My Name is Earl s03e05 Episode Script
Creative Writing
I guess my favorite time in prison is nighttime.
Lights out! When it's dark and peaceful, you can almost feel like you're not stuck behind bars anymore.
Outside lights on! Those are the best seven seconds of my day.
Prisoners like to complain, of course, but we're not the only ones who can feel trapped.
Sometimes Darnell felt trapped in a job that conflicted with his kind and gentle nature.
Catalina sometimes felt trapped just by being too pretty.
Is the Latina girl going to be walking to her car soon? 'Cause they're really strict about curfew at the halfway house.
Randy sometimes felt trapped in his day-to-day life.
I wanted the baby one on the bottom.
And sometimes Joy felt trapped just taking care of her overactive kids.
You two settle down.
And get Mama's thong off your head.
You had pinkeye last week.
But I for one was about to get an escape.
"Prison Creative Writing.
" Creative writing is a wonderful way to escape from prison, in your imagination.
It's a chance to free your mind, even if you're stuck behind walls and a five-point limb and torso restraint.
Anyway, I want you, men, to create a story where you're the main character, and you can do absolutely anything.
This tiny armored lady was actually getting me excited about writing, saying how the pen is mightier than the sword.
Then someone used their pen as sword.
Excuse me, Misses Teacher? I think Enrico might need a pass to the nurse's office.
Saison 3- Episode 5 Creative Writing Getting started on my creative writing project was harder than I expected.
I always thought I had a good imagination, but, turns out, that was just my imagination.
- How do you spell "hematoma"? - I don't know, Sonny.
If you're going to make up words, just make up how to spell them.
No, it's a real word.
See, I'm writing a story about me beating up a gymnast.
I hate those guys.
I wish I had an idea.
I'm trying to write but just drawing a blank.
You're being too uptight, man.
You've got to just close your eyes and look inside your brain.
You know, like when you're driving on meth.
I'd never driven on meth before, but I've ridden shotgun plenty of times while someone else did and closing your eyes did help.
So I gave it a shot.
So this is my imagination.
Cool.
My story can be about me doing anything.
Anything I can imagine.
You could put me in your story.
It worked for Sonny.
Come on, hit me.
- Break my nose.
- That's Sonny's thing.
Sweet of you, though.
You can go now.
I can't leave unless you stop thinking about me.
Right.
You're thinking about me.
Shut up! And that right there took me a little less than four and one half hours.
Writing sounds cool.
You could make a world where anything could happen.
Like a guy all alone in a boat hunting a big, white whale.
Randy, nobody's gonna want to read that.
That's okay.
I got lots of ideas.
Randy's been lost a lot, but never lost in thought.
Suddenly, he was in a world of his own.
What's next on my crime-fighter exercise schedule, H.
R.
? Golly, Randy, says here you do ten zillion jumping jacks.
Must be a light day.
Afternoon, Randy, bad news.
Some sort of trouble, Commissioner? Earl's in trouble at the Crab Shack.
At the Crab Shack? Sounds like Earl's in trouble, we're on it.
Now trouble's in trouble.
We'll need to get our driver.
Hey, Richard, we're moving out.
Step on it, Richard.
Sumo guy with a bazooka.
That's too easy.
It must be a trap.
Look out, team.
Puppet sniper, 10:00.
I'll use my X-ray vision to check on Earl.
Stop your shaking in fear, Earl.
Your brother will save us soon.
He's strong and fearless and bad to the bone.
He'll never get in.
These walls are rock solid metal.
The situation is hopeless.
No one can save us now.
Since we're going to die, I should tell you this is actually Randy's mustache.
He lets me wear it.
Look! How did you get in here? Dr.
Shrinker shrunk us and we crawled under the door.
Unshrink.
Unshrinking.
We're here for two things: to kick some ass and drink some beers.
Get him, you fools.
Did you see that one? Eat my tail, ninjas.
Get back in there, you loser.
Fight! Booyah, Randy.
Game over.
Go ahead, finish me off.
I'd never hurt a lady.
Lucky for me, you're no lady.
You're the best, Randy.
I know.
You ruined everything, Randy.
I don't ruin things.
I make them rock! Thanks, bro.
You've done it again.
Can I have some money for the claw machine? You wrote all this in one night? I even drew a poster in case Hollywood wants to make it into a movie.
Well, the doctor always said you were borderline artistic.
I think I'm all the way artistic now.
I'm gonna go hang it in the break room.
Considering Randy only uses a 17 letter alphabet, I was surprised he could write a story better than me.
So I decided I'd try again.
Something interesting.
Think of something interesting.
Just so you know, I've been all over this place, and there's nothing else here but me.
Go away, nobody's interested in a story about a gymnast.
Apparently you've never seen profiles in Courage: The Kerri Strug Story.
No, I haven't.
Then how'd you make me say it? Okay, fine, I saw it, it made me cry.
Are you happy now, you son of a bitch? Damn.
It was five days and I still couldn't think of anything to write.
Seemed like everybody had an imagination except me.
Boys, clean up this mess! It looks like a toy store took a dump in here.
I know what will cheer you up.
Writing a story.
You should do it.
Here's a story: "Once upon a time, Randy, shut up.
The end.
" Had a slow start, but I liked the middle.
Y'all didn't do your homework yet? I want homework done, TV off, and y'all in bed by midnight.
I'm not raising any Nathanville trash.
- I hate homework.
- I hate homework.
- It's stupid.
- I don't like it.
Joy's kids hated everything from homework to baths.
So Joy decided to go to the only place where kids couldn't complain her imagination.
"Once upon a long, long time ago, pretty far away, There were two little brats who I loved, but I still wanted to wring their necks.
And a mom with the class of Princess Diana and the body of a porn star.
You're mean, you make us do homework which is yucky.
Don't you talk in unison to me.
You think I'm mean? Mean is not being able to drink daiquiris for 9 months and still having your kids come out lazy-brained.
Now let me show you something about homework.
Let's go.
Once there was a little boy like you two who never ever studied.
I hate crows.
And that boy who didn't do his homework, grew up to be a giant dummy.
Hey, giant dummy.
If a train leaves a station at 60 miles an hour and you're a quarter mile away, how long do you have to get your hairy ass off the track? Crud, man, that's a toughie.
a quarter's 25 cents "I" before "E" equals an hour and a half.
And I've got 80 minutes to kill.
Well, he got the kill part right.
Anyway, that's why I make you do your homework.
So quit your bitchin'.
Yeah, quit your bitchin'.
Shut up, I got this.
Let's go.
Y'all hate bath time? Once there was a lazy slob who wouldn't take a bath.
He got so nasty and sweaty that moss grew on him.
Then the moss got sticky, and all his snack crumbs stuck to it.
Then mice came, and the nasty slob said Shoo, mice.
But the mice couldn't shoo because they were too stuck to the damn slob.
Then all the mess of the slob's filthy house stuck to the slob.
I hate myself! Then cars and trees and buildings stuck to the slob.
And then sure as poo on your shoe, everything stuck to the slob.
Mountains stuck to him, Canada stuck to him.
And the slob-clump got so heavy that he fell clear off the Earth, and fell all the way through space until he landed on God's desk where God squished him with his coffee mug.
God loves everybody, but I mean, come on.
Looking good, there, Joy.
Just using what You gave me, G.
"And they went back to their trailer and lived happily ever after.
" Okay, you two, clean up and go to bed, and remember, if you don't listen to what I say, God will kill you.
While I disagree with your view of a conventional anthropomorphic God, I respect you using that myth to discipline them rascally boys.
I am a creative being, Darnell.
Think about all that stuff I yell at the movie screen, all those great Mad Libs I've done.
The purple Christina Aguilera flew into The horny Carol Burnett.
That was a fun anniversary.
Apparently, all my friends were more creative than me, cause even Darnell was able to work out some issues by putting pen to paper.
My sweet animal brother Please forgive my sin Food source with a mother Where do I begin? To explain how my heart toils justifying that you boil? Leftovers I wrap in foil America burns too much oil Got to stay focused.
When I make my dirty dollar I have heard the sound Wait for it.
It's heavy.
Of a crab who hiss and hollers As he's drowning down That crab fritter you see frying was once a critter I sent dying I wanna be a quitter, and I'm sure trying Cause I'm a cook who can't stop crying! I'm not saying what to eat Have a shish kebab or piggy feet But honor he who feels the heat Please respect the meat I wanna say thank you, thank you from the nation To the people with claws, crustaceans And to the other animals whose location will end up in my draws, mastication It's not selfish, it is quite valid to hope that shellfish get their own mallets And you might well wish you ordered salad When a crab whups your ass, Darnell kick your ballad It's no crime to sell a ton of murdered exoskeletons No one cried when he got fried because he walks from side to side Baby, I tried to stay away from you You know, tried seeing other foods Broccoli, tofu, I even dipped it in butter But it's not you I'm not saying what to eat Life is short and life is sweet And meat is life so I repeat Please respect the meat Digest slowly Please respect the meat Even in Crete Please respect the meat Darnell, these lyrics are so beautiful and moving.
So that's what Joey looks like on the inside.
You should probably stop naming them.
That's what we did with the children in my village after the military took over.
Damn, you've got some crazy stories.
You ever think about writing them down? I wish I could write but with my two jobs, when will I find the time? Just want to take her to dinner.
Turns out, she found time to take a stab at writing that very night.
Catalina, Woman of a Thousand Tears.
Catalina, why are you crying? Yes, when tomorrow you marry the richest man in all of Latin America? It is a tear of relief, Randito, because tonight is the last time I will be forced into dancing by my brother's kidnappers.
I will finally have enough money to pay for his freedom.
Hola, Churro Man.
Hola, Earlonzo.
Catalina, these churros are in honor of your wedding.
Now I have tears of gratitude, Darnando.
I will eat them tomorrow after I marry Javier and lose my virginity to him, which will happen tomorrow, because that is when he will arrive into town.
Ay! There he is.
He can't see me in this outfit.
If he knows I dance in front of other men, it'll break his heart, and he'll call off the wedding.
Now I cry tears for fears.
Quick.
You can use the back door.
Your secret is safe.
Andale.
It is not safe with me.
She will suffer for being prettier than I.
Don't worry, my brother.
After this last dance, you will be free.
I wanted to tell you the truth.
The truth is you're a cheap tramp.
But there is a reason for my actions.
I dance to pay the ransom for my kidnapped brother.
They cut off both his big toes.
He can never wear flip-flop sandals again.
Why did you not tell me? I'm very wealthy from my flip-flop factory.
Because of the irony.
I am not interested in your money.
I am only interested in your heart.
I guess dancing is not that bad.
At least you were not a maid in a hotel.
Numero uno in our hearts, numero uno in your stomach.
For the first time in my life, I cry tears of happiness.
Catalina, Woman of a Thousand Tears.
Even Catalina, who couldn't think of a more creative stripper name than Catalina, was more creative than me.
So all night I banged my head thinking of a story about me that wouldn't suck.
I even used other people's stuff, but nothing I came up with felt right.
- How many? - Golly, Earl, you're still at zero.
You can do this.
Just think of some sort of The next day, I still had nothing exciting to read out loud, so I gave up trying to imagine something interesting or cool.
I just wrote down the only things I could actually picture in my head.
Nothing big, just regular stuff.
But it was stuff that made me happy.
And suddenly, the words were flowing.
It was great.
Everybody can feel trapped sometimes in their everyday lives.
But when you lose your everyday life, well, that can sometimes become your best fantasy.
"And that's what I would do if I could do anything in the world.
" I didn't think it was gonna be that great, but people seemed to like it.
Tell again the part about how the wings tasted.
Sure.
"The wings were not hot, but spicy.
And the celery was warm and bendy like I like it.
"
Lights out! When it's dark and peaceful, you can almost feel like you're not stuck behind bars anymore.
Outside lights on! Those are the best seven seconds of my day.
Prisoners like to complain, of course, but we're not the only ones who can feel trapped.
Sometimes Darnell felt trapped in a job that conflicted with his kind and gentle nature.
Catalina sometimes felt trapped just by being too pretty.
Is the Latina girl going to be walking to her car soon? 'Cause they're really strict about curfew at the halfway house.
Randy sometimes felt trapped in his day-to-day life.
I wanted the baby one on the bottom.
And sometimes Joy felt trapped just taking care of her overactive kids.
You two settle down.
And get Mama's thong off your head.
You had pinkeye last week.
But I for one was about to get an escape.
"Prison Creative Writing.
" Creative writing is a wonderful way to escape from prison, in your imagination.
It's a chance to free your mind, even if you're stuck behind walls and a five-point limb and torso restraint.
Anyway, I want you, men, to create a story where you're the main character, and you can do absolutely anything.
This tiny armored lady was actually getting me excited about writing, saying how the pen is mightier than the sword.
Then someone used their pen as sword.
Excuse me, Misses Teacher? I think Enrico might need a pass to the nurse's office.
Saison 3- Episode 5 Creative Writing Getting started on my creative writing project was harder than I expected.
I always thought I had a good imagination, but, turns out, that was just my imagination.
- How do you spell "hematoma"? - I don't know, Sonny.
If you're going to make up words, just make up how to spell them.
No, it's a real word.
See, I'm writing a story about me beating up a gymnast.
I hate those guys.
I wish I had an idea.
I'm trying to write but just drawing a blank.
You're being too uptight, man.
You've got to just close your eyes and look inside your brain.
You know, like when you're driving on meth.
I'd never driven on meth before, but I've ridden shotgun plenty of times while someone else did and closing your eyes did help.
So I gave it a shot.
So this is my imagination.
Cool.
My story can be about me doing anything.
Anything I can imagine.
You could put me in your story.
It worked for Sonny.
Come on, hit me.
- Break my nose.
- That's Sonny's thing.
Sweet of you, though.
You can go now.
I can't leave unless you stop thinking about me.
Right.
You're thinking about me.
Shut up! And that right there took me a little less than four and one half hours.
Writing sounds cool.
You could make a world where anything could happen.
Like a guy all alone in a boat hunting a big, white whale.
Randy, nobody's gonna want to read that.
That's okay.
I got lots of ideas.
Randy's been lost a lot, but never lost in thought.
Suddenly, he was in a world of his own.
What's next on my crime-fighter exercise schedule, H.
R.
? Golly, Randy, says here you do ten zillion jumping jacks.
Must be a light day.
Afternoon, Randy, bad news.
Some sort of trouble, Commissioner? Earl's in trouble at the Crab Shack.
At the Crab Shack? Sounds like Earl's in trouble, we're on it.
Now trouble's in trouble.
We'll need to get our driver.
Hey, Richard, we're moving out.
Step on it, Richard.
Sumo guy with a bazooka.
That's too easy.
It must be a trap.
Look out, team.
Puppet sniper, 10:00.
I'll use my X-ray vision to check on Earl.
Stop your shaking in fear, Earl.
Your brother will save us soon.
He's strong and fearless and bad to the bone.
He'll never get in.
These walls are rock solid metal.
The situation is hopeless.
No one can save us now.
Since we're going to die, I should tell you this is actually Randy's mustache.
He lets me wear it.
Look! How did you get in here? Dr.
Shrinker shrunk us and we crawled under the door.
Unshrink.
Unshrinking.
We're here for two things: to kick some ass and drink some beers.
Get him, you fools.
Did you see that one? Eat my tail, ninjas.
Get back in there, you loser.
Fight! Booyah, Randy.
Game over.
Go ahead, finish me off.
I'd never hurt a lady.
Lucky for me, you're no lady.
You're the best, Randy.
I know.
You ruined everything, Randy.
I don't ruin things.
I make them rock! Thanks, bro.
You've done it again.
Can I have some money for the claw machine? You wrote all this in one night? I even drew a poster in case Hollywood wants to make it into a movie.
Well, the doctor always said you were borderline artistic.
I think I'm all the way artistic now.
I'm gonna go hang it in the break room.
Considering Randy only uses a 17 letter alphabet, I was surprised he could write a story better than me.
So I decided I'd try again.
Something interesting.
Think of something interesting.
Just so you know, I've been all over this place, and there's nothing else here but me.
Go away, nobody's interested in a story about a gymnast.
Apparently you've never seen profiles in Courage: The Kerri Strug Story.
No, I haven't.
Then how'd you make me say it? Okay, fine, I saw it, it made me cry.
Are you happy now, you son of a bitch? Damn.
It was five days and I still couldn't think of anything to write.
Seemed like everybody had an imagination except me.
Boys, clean up this mess! It looks like a toy store took a dump in here.
I know what will cheer you up.
Writing a story.
You should do it.
Here's a story: "Once upon a time, Randy, shut up.
The end.
" Had a slow start, but I liked the middle.
Y'all didn't do your homework yet? I want homework done, TV off, and y'all in bed by midnight.
I'm not raising any Nathanville trash.
- I hate homework.
- I hate homework.
- It's stupid.
- I don't like it.
Joy's kids hated everything from homework to baths.
So Joy decided to go to the only place where kids couldn't complain her imagination.
"Once upon a long, long time ago, pretty far away, There were two little brats who I loved, but I still wanted to wring their necks.
And a mom with the class of Princess Diana and the body of a porn star.
You're mean, you make us do homework which is yucky.
Don't you talk in unison to me.
You think I'm mean? Mean is not being able to drink daiquiris for 9 months and still having your kids come out lazy-brained.
Now let me show you something about homework.
Let's go.
Once there was a little boy like you two who never ever studied.
I hate crows.
And that boy who didn't do his homework, grew up to be a giant dummy.
Hey, giant dummy.
If a train leaves a station at 60 miles an hour and you're a quarter mile away, how long do you have to get your hairy ass off the track? Crud, man, that's a toughie.
a quarter's 25 cents "I" before "E" equals an hour and a half.
And I've got 80 minutes to kill.
Well, he got the kill part right.
Anyway, that's why I make you do your homework.
So quit your bitchin'.
Yeah, quit your bitchin'.
Shut up, I got this.
Let's go.
Y'all hate bath time? Once there was a lazy slob who wouldn't take a bath.
He got so nasty and sweaty that moss grew on him.
Then the moss got sticky, and all his snack crumbs stuck to it.
Then mice came, and the nasty slob said Shoo, mice.
But the mice couldn't shoo because they were too stuck to the damn slob.
Then all the mess of the slob's filthy house stuck to the slob.
I hate myself! Then cars and trees and buildings stuck to the slob.
And then sure as poo on your shoe, everything stuck to the slob.
Mountains stuck to him, Canada stuck to him.
And the slob-clump got so heavy that he fell clear off the Earth, and fell all the way through space until he landed on God's desk where God squished him with his coffee mug.
God loves everybody, but I mean, come on.
Looking good, there, Joy.
Just using what You gave me, G.
"And they went back to their trailer and lived happily ever after.
" Okay, you two, clean up and go to bed, and remember, if you don't listen to what I say, God will kill you.
While I disagree with your view of a conventional anthropomorphic God, I respect you using that myth to discipline them rascally boys.
I am a creative being, Darnell.
Think about all that stuff I yell at the movie screen, all those great Mad Libs I've done.
The purple Christina Aguilera flew into The horny Carol Burnett.
That was a fun anniversary.
Apparently, all my friends were more creative than me, cause even Darnell was able to work out some issues by putting pen to paper.
My sweet animal brother Please forgive my sin Food source with a mother Where do I begin? To explain how my heart toils justifying that you boil? Leftovers I wrap in foil America burns too much oil Got to stay focused.
When I make my dirty dollar I have heard the sound Wait for it.
It's heavy.
Of a crab who hiss and hollers As he's drowning down That crab fritter you see frying was once a critter I sent dying I wanna be a quitter, and I'm sure trying Cause I'm a cook who can't stop crying! I'm not saying what to eat Have a shish kebab or piggy feet But honor he who feels the heat Please respect the meat I wanna say thank you, thank you from the nation To the people with claws, crustaceans And to the other animals whose location will end up in my draws, mastication It's not selfish, it is quite valid to hope that shellfish get their own mallets And you might well wish you ordered salad When a crab whups your ass, Darnell kick your ballad It's no crime to sell a ton of murdered exoskeletons No one cried when he got fried because he walks from side to side Baby, I tried to stay away from you You know, tried seeing other foods Broccoli, tofu, I even dipped it in butter But it's not you I'm not saying what to eat Life is short and life is sweet And meat is life so I repeat Please respect the meat Digest slowly Please respect the meat Even in Crete Please respect the meat Darnell, these lyrics are so beautiful and moving.
So that's what Joey looks like on the inside.
You should probably stop naming them.
That's what we did with the children in my village after the military took over.
Damn, you've got some crazy stories.
You ever think about writing them down? I wish I could write but with my two jobs, when will I find the time? Just want to take her to dinner.
Turns out, she found time to take a stab at writing that very night.
Catalina, Woman of a Thousand Tears.
Catalina, why are you crying? Yes, when tomorrow you marry the richest man in all of Latin America? It is a tear of relief, Randito, because tonight is the last time I will be forced into dancing by my brother's kidnappers.
I will finally have enough money to pay for his freedom.
Hola, Churro Man.
Hola, Earlonzo.
Catalina, these churros are in honor of your wedding.
Now I have tears of gratitude, Darnando.
I will eat them tomorrow after I marry Javier and lose my virginity to him, which will happen tomorrow, because that is when he will arrive into town.
Ay! There he is.
He can't see me in this outfit.
If he knows I dance in front of other men, it'll break his heart, and he'll call off the wedding.
Now I cry tears for fears.
Quick.
You can use the back door.
Your secret is safe.
Andale.
It is not safe with me.
She will suffer for being prettier than I.
Don't worry, my brother.
After this last dance, you will be free.
I wanted to tell you the truth.
The truth is you're a cheap tramp.
But there is a reason for my actions.
I dance to pay the ransom for my kidnapped brother.
They cut off both his big toes.
He can never wear flip-flop sandals again.
Why did you not tell me? I'm very wealthy from my flip-flop factory.
Because of the irony.
I am not interested in your money.
I am only interested in your heart.
I guess dancing is not that bad.
At least you were not a maid in a hotel.
Numero uno in our hearts, numero uno in your stomach.
For the first time in my life, I cry tears of happiness.
Catalina, Woman of a Thousand Tears.
Even Catalina, who couldn't think of a more creative stripper name than Catalina, was more creative than me.
So all night I banged my head thinking of a story about me that wouldn't suck.
I even used other people's stuff, but nothing I came up with felt right.
- How many? - Golly, Earl, you're still at zero.
You can do this.
Just think of some sort of The next day, I still had nothing exciting to read out loud, so I gave up trying to imagine something interesting or cool.
I just wrote down the only things I could actually picture in my head.
Nothing big, just regular stuff.
But it was stuff that made me happy.
And suddenly, the words were flowing.
It was great.
Everybody can feel trapped sometimes in their everyday lives.
But when you lose your everyday life, well, that can sometimes become your best fantasy.
"And that's what I would do if I could do anything in the world.
" I didn't think it was gonna be that great, but people seemed to like it.
Tell again the part about how the wings tasted.
Sure.
"The wings were not hot, but spicy.
And the celery was warm and bendy like I like it.
"