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"Backflip Bill" | Next: "Gramma's License" |
The following is a transcript for the episode, "Backflip Bill".
Greens' house[]
Basement[]
(Episode title appears on Bill's toolbox; Cricket scoops out all the tools in his arms.)
Cricket: Hey, Dad! I got the tool you wanted!
Bill: (takes the wrench) Uh...thanks, Cricket. Now, pay attention kids. Water heaters can be tricky things. (starts working) Of course this thing is hot, so you gotta be real...
(He struggles to tighten the bolt on the water heater.)
Cricket: SPEAK UP, DAD! I CAN'T HEAR YA!
Bill: (drops the wrench) ACK! Whoaaaaa!!! (accidentally puts his hand on the heater pipes, burning them) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!! (stumbles backward) Whoa...oh!
(He falls into a pile of boxes, scattering them; he sits up.)
Cricket (OS): Oh my gosh, Dad!!
Bill: (chuckles) Don't worry, Cricket. I'm fine!
(Pull back; he and Tilly Green are looking at one of the boxes which spilled out some keepsakes from the past.)
Cricket: No, I was talkin' about this!
(Close-up on "this"; a picture of Bill around Cricket's age dressed in gymnast's attire and doing a big leap.)
Cricket: Dad, is this you?!
Bill: (takes the picture) Ha-ha, yup! I did gymnastics as a kid! They used to call me "Backflip Bill". Boy, that sure was fun...
Tilly (OS): "Bill's Power Ballad Mix"?
(Cut to Tilly holding a cassette tape.)
Tilly: This'll spice up my mornin' routine.
Cricket: This stuff is great! (takes out the red sweatband from the picture and stretches it) How come you keep it all hidden down here?
Bill: Well, I...was really lookin' forward to my first big competition. (doubtfully) But I ended up not competin'.
Tilly: (holding a ribbon) That is so sad.
Cricket: What happened?
Bill: (a bit pensive) Iiiit's not important, that stuff's all in the past. (puts the stuff away) It was just a silly childhood dream. But I'll...always wonder what woulda happened if I had gone through with it. (losing focus) Maybe I coulda placed... or even won... (snaps back) AGH! I've moved on. (walks out)
Cricket: (to Tilly) Doesn't sound like he's moved on to me.
Tilly: Papa, if you don't follow your dreams, regrets follow you.
(A pan shows she recited the exact quote from a motivational poster of an eagle behind her.)
Tilly: I read that somewhere.
Bill: Look, kids. I don't wanna say anymore about it.
Gramma: (comes in through the door) I'LL say more about it! I tried to coach that boy. We trained for hours on end, but he just couldn't hack it as a gymnist!
Bill: (scratches head) Well, I guess that's true.
Gramma: See!? He can't even hack it in this argument! ā« Do-do-do-do... ā« (leaves)
Cricket: Mmmmm...!!!
Hallway[]
Gramma: ā« Do-do-do-do-do-do-do... ā«
Cricket: (comes out) NEIGHSEYER!
Gramma: Huh?
Cricket: NEIGHSEYER, NEIGHSEYER, NEIGHSEYER! You must have not been a very good coach! Dad obviously loves a sport! He's brimming with passion. Anyone could coach such a willing athlete! You're just a big 'ol neighseyer.
Gramma: You can believe what you want, but your dad is un-coachable!
Cricket: Oh, yeah?! I'll coach him and prove you wrong! You'll see! MY DAD'S GONNA BE A KICKBUTT GYMNIST!!!
Big City Community Center[]
Gymnasium[]
(Various athletes are doing gymnastic activities; Cricket and Tilly stand before the storage closet door.)
Cricket: Y'ready, Dad?
Bill: (peeks out the door) Uh...I'm not sure about this, Cricket.
Cricket: Come on, Dad!
Tilly: It's time to get gym-nasty.
Bill: Maybe we should just go home.
Cricket: Well, do you or don't you wanna achieve your childhood dream?!
Bill: All right, all right!
(The doors open to reveal him dressed in his leotard with matching footbands; he flexes.)
Bill: Heh-heh, can you believe this thing still fits?
(Cricket is stunned.)
Tilly: And they say miracles don't happen anymore.
Bill: Yup, I still got it! (stretches part near his leg; releases it so his leg ripples)
Cricket: ...I'm just gonna take a moment to erase that from my memory. (closes eyes for one second, then reopens them) Done.
Training area[]
Bill: (approaches the pommel horse) Well, wouldja look at this? I can't believe I'm gettin' back on the old horse... pommel horse, that is! (chuckles)
Cricket: Enough with the gym jokes, let's see what you've got!
Tilly: (from aside) Here's Bill Green stepping up to the line ready to relive his childhood dream. (Bill cracks a muscle; with a celery stick as the microphone) Can he do it?
(She eats the celery; the host, Juan Pablo, stands uneasy next to her.)
Juan: Are you...you talkin' to me?
Tilly: I'm talkin' to everyone.
(Bill stands ready; he flips himself up onto the pommel horse.)
Bill: Egh! (stumbles) Whoa...OH! (flops down) Oh...
Tilly: Ouchie-wa-wa.
Cricket: Dad! Are you okay?!
Bill: This was a bad idea. Maybe your Gramma's right.
Cricket: No she's not!! You're just a little rusty, that's natural. Don't even think about Gramma. This is about you and your childhood dream. (holds hand out) Just relax and have fun.
Bill: (sighs) Thanks, son. (Cricket helps him up; with eyes closed and arms outstretched) Just have fun...
(He tries at his pommel horse trick and does it flawlessly.)
Bill: Hyup! H-hey, I'm really doin' it!
Cricket: That's fantastic!
(He lands and wobbles a bit before standing.)
Bill: What a RUSH! It's all comin' back to me!!
Juan: (walks over) Wow, holy cow! In my whole life, I've never seen a guy move like that! This is impressive! Inspiring! Here, you gotta sign him up for this afternoon gymnastics competition. (holds out a form in his clipboard)
Cricket: A gymnastics competition?! Did you hear that, Dad?! It must be destiny -- I mean, what are the chances?!?!
Juan: Actually, we do this every week!
Cricket: Ah-ah!! Will you hush up?!
Bill: (pauses for a moment) Aw, what the heck? Sounds like fun!
Tilly: I can't believe what I'm seein' here today. (turns to the viewers) This could be the start of a comeback for ol' Backflip Bill.
(Reveals she's actually talking to a little gymnist girl.)
Girl: Uh...I have to go... (backs away)
Tilly: That's okay. We've gotta cut to commercial anyways.
(Cricket calls Gramma in her room at home; she answers.)
Gramma: If you're sellin', I AIN'T BUYIN'!
Cricket: Remember how you said Dad was uncoachable?
Gramma: Is that you, boy?!?
Cricket: Well, you're wrong! So come on down to the rec center and see how wrong you are!
Gramma: All right --
Cricket: (hangs up and chuckles) Got her good...
(He turns and sees one of the gymnasts practice her routine leaping across a beam and leaping into the air to do two whole flips before landing perfectly on her feet as the spectators applaud. A sudden thought clicks in his mind.)
Cricket: Wow...competition's pretty good... (looks up) Uh...
(Above him, Bill is hanging with one arm and one leg in the hanging rings.)
Bill: Ha-ha...could...could someone help me? (falls) AAAAAAAGH! (lands face first) Oof.
Cricket: If I'm gonna prove Gramma wrong, I've gotta take my coaching up a notch. (He ties Bill's sweatband to his forehead, making his hair resemble devil horns.) No more Mr. Nice Cricket.
Bill: Whoo-whee! Rings are hard!
(Cricket stands up to him, all sweetness gone and going full drill sergeant on him.)
Cricket: C'mon, Dad! You can do better than that!
Bill: (stands) Heh-heh, I'll sure try! (runs off) Thanks, son!
Gramma (OS): OUTTA MY WAY!!
(He sees Gramma taking her seat in the bleachers.)
Gramma: I need a front row seat!!
Bill (OS): Hey, Cricket! Look over here!
(He jumps off a trampoline and does a somersault over a stool and proceeds to start his flip. Cricket, again, drops all niceness and goes complete drill sergeant nasty.)
Cricket: STICK THE LANDING!!
Bill: Wha...? (wipes out) Oof. Oh...! (sits up) Ha! Almost had it!
(Cricket stares at Gramma and whimpers with worry; she gives him a thumbs-down. He quickly runs off in a panic.)
Bill: (chuckles)
Cricket: Hey! What're you doin' sittin' around!!?? Get back to it!!
Bill: You got it, coach!
(He does a handstand on the beam, arms struggling a bit.)
Cricket: Awfully pleased for such sloppy form!
Bill: Huh? (loses balance) Whoa...oh! (falls) Oops! (chuckles) Silly me!
Cricket: C'MON, DAD! FOCUS!
(Now Bill tries at the monkey bars.)
Bill: Ah...oof! (messes up and falls)
Cricket: DO IT AGAIN!
(Bill is tied up in his own ribbon; he falls.)
Cricket: IS THAT ALL YOU GOT!!??!!
(Bill struggles to hold a single pose; he faints due to exhaustion.)
Bill: Hey, son...? Do you think we could ease up a bit?
Cricket: No way! I won't settle for anything less than first place!!!!
Bill: (confused) "First place"? I thought we were just here to have fun!
Cricket: "FUN"!!???!!!?? SURE, WE'LL HAVE LOTS OF FUN...IF YA THINK IT'S FUN TO LOSE!!!!!!!!!!
("Fun to lose" echoes out; Bill is dumbfounded.)
Bill: (groans; stands with anguish) STOP IT, MA!!!!!!!!!
(He is so loud the whole room hears.)
Other gymnasts and trainers: Huh?
Cricket: What? Ma...?
(Bill gasps; he proceeds to run out of the room.)
Cricket: Wait! Come back, Dad!
(He leaves completely.)
Cricket: Where ya goin'?!
Gramma: (smugly walks over) He quit! I knew this would happen; I told you he couldn't hack it! I was right, you were wrong! That'll teach you to doubt your gramma.
Cricket: I don't understand. I coached Dad as hard as I could. It's not like I gave up on him like you did.
Gramma: Gave up on him? Is that what you think I did? On the contrary...
Flashback[]
(Dissolve to Gramma when she was younger, around her 40s, and teaching the younger pre-teen Bill his gymnastics routine harshly like how Cricket did.)
Gramma (VO): I believed in Bill, just like you. I coached him day and night to try and turn him into a winner. With his potential, and my lung capacity, he could've won it all! But how did he repay me?
(At the rec center, a gymnastics meet is going on; Bill stands at the door with Alice behind him.)
Gramma (VO): By quitting, right before his first big meet!
Adolescent Bill: I'm just gonna go out there and have some fun!
Adult Age Gramma: Sure...you'll have lots of fun, Billy Boy...IF YOU THINK IT'S FUN TO LOSE!!!!!!!!!!
Adolescent Bill: (hurt by her words) STOP IT, MA!!!!!!!!! (runs away crying)
Adult Age Gramma: (pauses) Hmm.
Gymnasium, present day[]
(Dissolve back to a dumbstruck Cricket.)
Gramma: So ya see? He's a quitter! Simple as that! (walks away)
Cricket: Oh, no...what have I done!?! (darts out of the room)
Tilly: (over speaker) Attention everyone...
(From off the area, Tilly sits at a judging table before a microphone.)
Tilly: The gymnastics competition will be startin' with the floor routine in five minutes.
Juan: (appears next to her) Ecu'me, are you supposed to be here?
Tilly: That depends. Are you supposed to be standin' around lollygaggin'?
(Juan is speechless; he silently sits next to her.)
Parking lot[]
Cricket: (Opens door) DAD! DAD?! WHERE ARE YOU?!
(He finds him sulking against the Kludge and trying to pull his leotard off.)
Bill: (between strains) Stupid...thing...come off...!!
Cricket: Uh...hey, Dad.
Bill: (sees him) Oh -- oh, uh...hey, son.
Cricket: (sits in the trunks' fold) Can we talk for a second?
(After a beat, Bill sits next to him.)
Cricket: Listen, big guy. Sorry about all the yellin' and screamin'. In tryin' to prove Gramma wrong, I ended up makin' the same mistake she did.
Bill: (hat drooping over his face) Just face it, Cricket -- I was never cut out to be a gymnast.
Cricket: That's not true! You were oppressed by coaches who sucked the fun outta your dream. I was a bad coach; so from now on, I'm not your coach.
(He removes the sweatband and uses it to tie his hair into a side ponytail.)
Cricket: I'm your cheerleader! And the only thing I'm cheerin' for is for you to have fun out there. (hugs him)
Bill: Aww, that means a lot to me, Cricket. I...I think I'll give it another shot.
Gymnasium[]
(The competition is well underway; one gymnast finishes her routine. Bill waits by the bleachers.)
Tilly (OS): (amplified) And next up is...Bill Green!
Cricket: (next to him) BILL GREEN! (imitates crowd cheering) Ahhhhhh...ohmygosh...ahhhhhh...
Tilly: There's a lot ridin' on this for ol' Backflip Bill. (Bill walks into the performance area) All he's got is a heart full of hope! And cholesterol.
Juan: That's so... moving, Tilly. You're really good at thi --
Tilly: Eh, keep it professional, Juan Pablo.
(On the floor, Bill takes a breath; Cricket and Gramma watch from the bleachers.)
Cricket: GO, DAD, GO! Go Daaaad! Go Daaaad! He's my Daaaad! He's my Daaaad! He's biiiig! I love him!
Gramma: Hmmph.
(Bill puts his power ballad cassette tape into a boombox, starting up a tune; he smiles and strikes a pose in the spotlight.)
Cricket: Whoa.
(Bill starts his routine. He does several poses and somersaults, before jumping into the air and spinning and landing on one foot but steadies himself.)
Bill: Whoa...!
Tilly: Bill sticks the landing!
Cricket: YEAH, DAD!
(More gymnast tricks.)
Tilly: It all comes down to this last flip. If he nails it, he'll have the highest score in the competition!
(He somersaults backwards and leaps off the ground, flipping and striking a pose with a split and holding one foot behind him against a sparkly sky background. Cricket and Gramma are astounded.)
Cricket: Whoaaaaaaa!
Juan: Magnificent!
Tilly: Oh, my stars!
(He lands...and stumbles!)
Bill: Oof!
(He flops; the crowd gasps! He sits up and groans; someone in the crowd coughs. After a beat...)
Bill: Uh...
Gramma: (happily) YEAH!! THAT'S MY BILLY BOY! WHOOOOOOOO!!!
Cricket: YEAH, DAD! ALL RIGHT! I BELIEVED IN YOU! WHOO-HOO!
(The crowd cheers! Bill stands up and spreads his arms with a smile.)
Tilly: I'm sure we're all thinkin' the same thing, folks! Is there even an award high enough to honor such a stunnin' performance!?!
Parking lot[]
(The family exits the center; Bill is wearing a medal showing...)
Bill: Wow, sixth place!
Cricket: I'm real proud of you for finally followin' through on your dream, Dad. Even if you didn't win the gold.
Bill: Ahh, tungsten is a much more practical medal than gold, anyway. Without it, we wouldn't have light bulb filaments.
Tilly: And then we wouldn't be able to think of ideas.
Bill: (uneasy) Eh...right. Anyway, now that I've finally lived out my gymnastics dreams, I may need to retire. My body is destroyed! (stops and laughs; cracks a muscle) OW!! (sees Gramma) Hmm?
Gramma: Good job out there, son! You've finally done me proud.
Bill: Aww, gee. Thanks, Ma. Ah...what part didja like best?
Gramma: STOP FISHIN' FOR COMPLEMENTS! (walks away) Hmm...
Cricket: C'mon, big guy. Let's go get you a milkshake.
(They happily walk out of the lot.)