Tom and Jerry: Charlotte's Web/Transcripts

("Tom and Jerry" theme song plays)

(A Warner Bros. CARTOON)

(Turner Entertainment Co. and Warner Bros. Animation PRESENT)

(Tom and Jerry)

(Tom and Jerry: Charlotte's Web)

(Based on "Tom and Jerry" created by William Hanna and Joseph Barbera)

(Based on the novel "Charlotte's Web" by E. B. White)

Narrator: This old world is filled with wonders, but to me there's no place more wonderful than the farm in springtime when the sun is just lifting on the skyline. This air was so sweet, and everywhere you look, little miracles are happening. Buds swell into blossoms, eggs hatch, young are born. Everything's off to the fresh start, and the life is good and busy and brand new. Around a barnyard, big families are blessing. The more, the merrier. Rooting and grunting. Pushing and shoving. Room for everybody. Well, everybody except the runt. Tom and Jerry are having fun at the farm.

(Tom and Jerry are chasing each other all over the Arable farm.)

Narrator: Mr. Arable had been up since daybreak. He'd seen the size of the pig. He wasn't looking forward to what had to be done.

Fern: Good morning, Papa.

Mr. Arable: Good morning, Fern.

Fern: Here are the eggs, Mama.

Mrs. Arable: Thank you, Fern.

Fern: What's Papa gonna do with that axe?

Mrs. Arable: Some pigs were born last night.

Fern: Why does he need an axe for?

Mrs. Arable: One pig was a runt. So your father has to do away with it.

Fern: Do away with it? You mean kill it?

Mrs. Arable: Well, yes.

Fern: Just because it's smaller than the others?

Mrs. Arable: Don't yell, Fern. This pig would probably die anyway.

(Tom and Jerry witnessed Mr. Arable picking a runt for kill and they hurry to warn Fern. They run to her father.)

Fern: Papa! Papa! Papa! Papa, stop! Don't kill it! It's unfair!

Mr. Arable: Fern, you will have to learn to control yourself.

Fern: Control myself? (starts crying) This is a matter of life and death and you talk about controlling myself!

Mr. Arable: Now, Fern. I know a lot more about raising pigs than you do. A weakling makes trouble now. Run along.

Fern: But it's unfair. If I had been very small, would you have killed me? (Jerry shakes his head)

Mr. Arable: No, certainly not! A little girl is one thing, a runty pig is another.

Fern: I don't see any difference. This is the most terrible case of injustice I ever heard of.

Mr. Arable: Oh, you know I've got a good mind to let you raise this pig. And then you see what trouble but how could it be.

Fern: Oh, Papa, would you? Please! (Mr. Arable hands the runt to Fern)

Mr. Arable: All right, he's yours. Saved from an untimely death.

Fern: Oh, look at him. She's absolutely perfect! His name is Wilbur. (Tom and Jerry sigh)

Mr. Arable: This pig doesn't grow fat on kisses and hugs. Take him inside and feed him.

Mrs. Arable: Mr. Arable, you've gone soft.

Fern: Isn't he precious?

Avery: Can I have a pig, too, Pop?

Mr. Arable: I only distribute pigs to early risers. Fern was up at daylight trying to rid the world of injustice. (The frog comes out of Avery's shirt)

Mr. Arable: Seems to me you've already got more wildlife than you can take care of Avery.

Fern: There must be something more to us than you and me

It must be tangled up, somehow, with destiny

I used to think the sum of one and one was two

But we add up to more, me and you

When we are close together it's so plain to see

Together we are better than we used to be

I don't know how to say the things I'm thinking of

But the something more I'm feeling must be love

I used to think the sum of one and one was two

But we add up to more, me and you

I don't know how to say the things I'm thinking of

But the something more I'm feeling must be love

Narrator: But to a boy named Henry Fussy, fun was something he'd only heard about.

Fern: Henry!

Henry: Hey, where'd you get the pig?

Fern: Papa gave him to me because he was the R-U-N-T.

Henry: Let me hold him.

Fern: You ought to have a dog or something.

Henry: Well, Mother says pets are unsanitary.

Fern: Wilbur's not! He's clean as a whistle.

Mrs: Fussy: Henry Fussy, you put that thing down! Shoo! Shoo! Get out! Shoo! Shoo! A mouse! Mouse! Mouse!

Fern: All right, Wilbur. Make a wish.

Mr. Arable: He now sits at the table like one of the family?

Fern: It's Wilbur's birthday, Papa. He's two weeks old.

Mr. Arable: Then it's time for him to start behaving like a pig. Tonight we started sleeping outside.

Fern: But, but. Papa!

Mr. Arable: Don't But, Papa me. Now, take that pig outside where it belongs.

Fern: It's my old comfy blanket when I was little. You'll be nice and warm. Go on in. Try it. Goodnight, Wilbur. I'll see you in the morning. You'll be just fine. Go to sleep now. Oh, Wilbur!

There must be something more to us than you and me

Mrs. Arable: John, wake up! Robbers!

Avery: Help, Papa! There's a ghost in my bed!

Narrator: Wilbur was what the farmers call a spring pig, which means he was born in springtime. By the time he was six weeks old, he'd grown so you'd never know he started life as a runt. Wilbur had gotten so bigger, in fact, Mr. Arable decided it was time he stopped being a pet and started being a pig.

Mr. Arable: He's got to go, Fern.

Fern: Papa, no!

Mr. Arable: You've had your fun raising a baby pig, but Wilbur's got to be sold. He's not a baby pig with Wilbur’s brothers and sisters are already sold.

Fern: Oh, Papa!

Avery: What's the matter with Fern?

Mr. Arable: She's learning a hard fact of farm life.

Fern: Oh, Wilbur! (sobs) Tom, Jerry, will you promise me something? Promise me you’ll be friends and work together… …to keep an eye on Wilbur. Please, boys, you’re awfully good at looking after him. He needs someone to protect him. Promise me you’ll do that. (Tom and Jerry handshake) Thank you, boys. Now, you stay close to Wilbur.

Narrator: The next day was the saddest Fern and Wilbur had ever known, for the young pig was taken from his home under the apple tree, and sold down the road to Fern's uncle, Homer Zuckerman. Tom and Jerry watch over Wilbur while he's in the Zuckerman farm.

Fern: Goodbye, Wilbur. Goodbye, Wilbur! Good luck, Tom and Jerry.

Gwen the Goose: Sorry, sonny, sorry, I'm sitting-sitting on my eggs, but if you'd like to come over here and talk, you're welcome-welcome-welcome. Can't you talk-talk-talk? You probably-obably could if you tried. Try-try-try. You can do better-better-better than that.

Wilbur: Wilbur!

Gwen: Very good. Very good!

Wilbur: Wilbur.

Gwen: There-there-there! You speak very well.

Tom: Wilbur, you talk!

Jerry: Yeah!

(Song: I Can Talk)

Wilbur: I can talk.

I can talk!

I can actually, factually talk!

Isn't it great that I articulate?

Isn't it grand that you can understand?

I don't grunt, I don't oink I don't even squeak or squawk

And then I wanna say a something I open up and talk

I can talk I can talk, talk, talk, I can talk

I pop with perspicacity I'm loaded with loquacity

My vocalized verbacity is tops

Semantically, each bit of me's the verbalized epitome

My plethora of patter never stops!

Isn't it great that I articulate?

Isn't it grand that you can understand?

I don't awk, I don't eek I don't even squeak or squawk

When I wanna say a something I open up and talk

I can talk I can talk, talk, talk, I can talk

It's wondrous and mystical

I'm hardly egotistical Because of this linguistical aplomb

But speaking quite pragmatically My self-esteem emphatically

Dramatically improved since I was dumb!

Isn't it great that I articulate?

Isn't it grand that you can understand?

I don't oink, I don't eek I don't even squeak or squawk

When I wanna say a something I open up and talk

I can talk I can talk, talk, talk, I can... (gasps)

Old Sheep: Who are you keep it down?

Wilbur: I can talk!

Gwen: Now, aren't you glad-glad-glad?

Wilbur: No, I'm still sad-sad-sad. I miss Fern.

Tom: Don't worry, Wilbur. We're with you.

Lurvy: Pig, pig, pig. Here, pig.

Something's wrong with that new pig, Homer. He won't touch his slops.

Probably needs a spring tonic.

Give him a couple of spoonfuls of sulphur and molasses.

Here, pig.

Here you go, Wilbur.

Now, just take this...

There you go.

Hey, this pig is a fainter.

You have a good home-home here.

Why aren't you happy-appy-appy?

I miss Fern.

You're quite a pig.

It felt good to hear a word of praise,

but what he really wanted was a friend.

- Better eat, Wilbur. - I don't want food. I want a friend.

- Will you play with me? - I'm no flibberty-ibberty-gibbet.

I'm staying here and hatching my goslings.

- Will you play with me, Templeton? - I hardly know the meaning of the word.

It means to run, skip and make merry.

I never do any of those things, if I can avoid them.

I prefer to spend my time spying,

and hiding, and eating.

Help yourself. I'm not hungry.

- Wanna play? - May I, Papa?

Certainly not. In the first place, you can't get out of your pen.

In the second place, sheep do not play with pigs.

- Why not? - It's a matter of status.

Sheep, for instance, are highly regarded by Zuckerman

because we furnish him with good quality wool.

With pigs, on the other hand, it's just a matter of time.

- Time till what? - Till you're fat enough to kill.

- What did you say? - Everybody knows it.

In the fall, you'll be turned into smoked bacon and ham,

as soon as cold weather sets in.

They'll kill you!

Templeton!

Would you do something-umthing - umthing about Wilbur, please?

Is it true what the old sheep says? Is that awful thing true?

It's a dirty-irty trick, but it's true.

I don't want to die. I want to stay here in my warm manure pile.

And breathe the beautiful air and lie in the beautiful sun.

You're certainly making a beautiful noise.

I don't wanna die! I don't wanna die!

Quiet, Wilbur. Now, chin up.

- Who said that? - Do you want a friend?

Yes, I want a friend. But I want to live, too.

Well, chin up. I'll be your friend, and I'll try to save your life.

I've been watching you, and I like you.

I can't see you. What do you mean, chin up?

Now, go to sleep. You'll see me in the morning, and I'll explain everything then.

Wilbur's stomach was empty and his mind was full.

When your stomach is empty and your mind is full, it's always hard to sleep.

But sleep and Wilbur finally found each other.

Chin up! Chin up! Everybody loves a happy face!

Wear it! Share it! It'll brighten up the darkest place

Twinkle! Sparkle! Let a little sunshine in

You'll be on the right side Looking at the bright side

Up with your chinny-chin-chin!

Attention, please.

Will the party who addressed me last night kindly come out of hiding?

lf you do have a friend, you're probably disturbing his rest.

I beg everyone's pardon. I didn't mean to be objectionable.

Chin up! Chin up! Put a little laughter in your eyes

Brave it! Save it! Even though you're feeling otherwise

Rise up! Wise up! Make a little smile begin

You'll be happy-hearted Once you get it started

Up with your chinny-chin-chin!

Salutations!

Salu-what?

- Salutations. - What are they? And where are you?

Salutations are greetings. It's my fancy way of saying hello.

Look up here in the doorway.

Chin down, you can't help frowning Turn round, start in clowning

Think sad, your troubles double

Think glad, they burst like bubbles

Chin up! Chin up! Every little time your spirits wilt

Chin up! Chin up! Give your attitude an upward tilt

Twinkle! Sparkle! Make a little fun begin

You'll be on the right side Looking at the bright side

Up with your chinny-chin... Chin up!

- See me now? - Oh, yes. Good morning!

Salutations! I can't see you very well, though.

- Is that better? - Oh, yes.

I promised I'd tell you all about chin up and I did.

- What is your name, please? - Charlotte A. Cavatica.

- I think you're beautiful. - Well, I am pretty.

Almost all spiders are nice-looking. I'm not as flashy as some, but I'll do.

About saving my life, do you really think you can?

Just a minute, Wilbur.

- He'll make a perfect breakfast for me. - You mean you eat flies?

Why, certainly. I eat anything that gets caught in my web. I have to live, don't l?

Why, yes, of course. Do they taste good?

Delicious!

I don't really eat them. I drink their blood. I love blood.

- Please don't say things like that. - Why not? It's true.

- But it's cruel! - Well, you can't talk.

You have meals brought to you in a pail. Nobody feeds me. I live by my wits.

It just seems an odd sort of diet.

If I didn't eat them, bugs would get so numerous they'd destroy the humanity and rule the earth.

Spiders are really very useful creatures.

I wish I were useful. Maybe I'll spin a web.

- Let's see you do it. - How do I start?

Take a deep breath. Now climb to the highest place you can get to.

Oh, what did I do wrong?

- Nothing. It was a nice try. - I know what I need.

Are you there, Templeton?

Got a little piece of string I could borrow? I need it to spin a web.

- What's in it for me? - I'll save you a part of my breakfast.

You've got yourself a deal.

- Tie one end to my tail, will you? - No trouble at all.

Now, attach the other end up there to that rafter.

Everybody watch!

Oh. I'm gonna try that again.

I advise you to put the idea out of your mind.

You lack a set of spinnerets and you lack know-how.

But chin up. Why should you worry about trapping food?

I'm glad you're here, Charlotte. Will you stay for a long, long time?

A spider's life is an uncertain thing, but I promise I'll stay as long as I can.

lf it bothers you so, I'll eat it after you're asleep.

Thank you, Charlotte. You're very considerate.

The early summer days on a farm are the fairest and happiest of the year.

And Wilbur looked forward each day to a visit from Fern.

All the animals trusted her because she was quiet and friendly.

And it made Fern happy just to be near them.

I'm sure everyone will be gratified to learn

that after four weeks of unremitting effort and patience by the goose,

the goslings have arrived.

Congratulations! How many are there?

- There are seven. - Seven is a lucky number.

Luck had nothing to do with this. It was good management and hard work.

Why didn't this one hatch?

- It's a dud, I guess. - What are you going to do with it?

You can have it. Roll it away and add it to that nasty collection of yours.

A rotten egg can be a regular stink bomb.

I know what I'm doing. I handle stuff like this all the time.

Let me see your family. I've never seen goslings before.

Come along, Geoffrey.

Oh, it's big out here.

It is big, and it is frightening at times.

But, on the whole, the world is a wonderful place.

- This one's undersized. - That's Geoffrey.

He takes after my side of the family-amily.

I never saw a gosling that tiny. There must be something wrong with him.

Are you my mother?

No, I'm Wilbur. I'm not your mother, but I'll be your friend.

- I was a runt like you once. - You're kidding!

- No, I'm not. - Then I want to be like you.

Well, why not?

Oh, we've got lots in common where it really counts

Where it really counts we've got large amounts

What we look like doesn't count an ounce

We've got lots in common where it really counts

You've got feathers, I've got skin But both our outsides hold us in

I've got hooves, you've got webbed feet But we both stand up to eat

'Cause we've got lots in common where it really counts

Where it really counts we've got large amounts

What we look like doesn't count an ounce

We've got lots in common where it really counts

You've got a beak and I've a snout But the both of us can sniff about

You'll say quack and I'll say neigh But we're talking either way

'Cause we've got lots in common where it really counts

Where it really counts we've got large amounts

What we look like doesn't count an ounce

We've got lots in common where it really counts

You're born to swim and me to spin But we both love this world we're in

We share the sun, the earth, the sky And that's the reason why

We've all got lots in common where it really counts

Where it really counts we've got large amounts

What we look like doesn't count an ounce

We've got lots in common where it really counts

Come along, Geoffrey-eoffrey, it's time for swimming lessons.

- You want to go? - I'd love to, but I don't swim.

- I'll stay with Wilbur, Mom. - Suit yourself.

Let's be friends forever, Wilbur. Want to?

Geoffrey, there's a horrible fact of life that you don't know about yet.

And I don't want to tell you, but Charlotte's working on the problem.

- Aren't you, Charlotte? - Indeed, yes.

But I see no point in withholding unpleasant information from your friend.

The fact is, Geoffrey, Wilbur's life is in danger.

- I'm trying to think of a way to save him. - Can I help?

We'll see. First I have to think of an idea.

- I love you, Wilbur. - I love you, too, Geoffrey.