/>
Each time a man stands for an ideal, he sends a tiny ripple of hope.
----Robert Francis Kennedy
Home Improvement
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Each time a man stands for an ideal, he sends a tiny ripple of hope.
----Robert Francis Kennedy
Home Improvement
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Home Improvement is an American television sitcom starring Tim Allen, that aired from September 17, 1991 to May 25, 1999. The show's title is a pun: it refers to physical improvement of houses, as well as to improving life with family, friends, work, and school.
The series centered on the Taylor family, which consists of father Tim (Tim Allen), his spouse Jill (Patricia Richardson) and their three children: the oldest, Brad (Zachery Ty Bryan), the middle child Randy (Jonathan Taylor Thomas) and youngest, Mark (Taran Noah Smith). The Taylors live in suburban Detroit, Michigan and have a neighbor named Wilson (Earl Hindman) who is often the go-to guy for solving Tim and Jill's problems.
The Write Stuff Scripts (ZT)
| Cut to school. | |
|---|---|
| [Brian brings in a big box labeled "LAKESIDE REPORTER". Randy enters] | |
| Lauren: | Hey Randy. |
| Randy: | Hey. |
| Lauren: | This week's paper is out. You know, that was a really great article. |
| Randy: | Well, thanks. You know, there is a lot more that I wanted to say, but I didn't want to hog the whole front page. |
| Lauren: | [Lauren opens the box] Um, technically, you're not on the front page. |
| Randy: | Technically, where am I? |
| Lauren: | You know, I, I don't think that's really important. What matters is that you got your message across. [Lauren shows Randy a copy of the paper] |
| Randy: | Hey well my message is on the page with next week's lunch menu. [Brian brings in another box] I'm buried under Soul*****erry Steak! |
| Lauren: | Randy, it's not that big a deal. |
| Randy: | No, it is to me. I mean, what could possibly be so important that it bumps me off the front page? [Randy looks at the front page] "Hey yo! Look who's got a remedy for jock itch"?? [Brad enters] |
| Brian: | [To Brad] Great article. |
| Brad: | Gracias. |
| Cut to the kitchen. | |
| [Randy is sitting at the counter, writing something. Brad enters from the backyard and is carrying a batch of newspapers] | |
| Brad: | Hey Randy. I'm sending the paper to everybody I know. Do you know what class I should send it? |
| Randy: | How about low-class? [Brad gets some envelopes out of one of the drawers] |
| Brad: | Whoa, I sense some hostility. [Brad comes over to Randy] |
| Randy: | Oh, why would that be, Brad? Could it be cuz I've spent two weeks writing my article only to have it bumped off the front page with your mindless drivel? |
| Brad: | You know, maybe yours got bumped off because mine was better. |
| Randy: | Oh, let's see. Eco system on the verge of collapse, or rash in the groin area. [Jill and Tim enter from the garage] |
| Jill: | Hi guys. |
| Brad: | You know what your problem is? You're jealous of me. |
| Randy: | Oh oh please! What would I possibly have to be jealous about? |
| Brad: | That people like my article better than yours, or maybe people just like me better. |
| Jill: | Brad. |
| Tim: | Jill. [Meaning "Stay out of this"] |
| Brad: | No no no, I'm more popular, I'm more athletic, and it looks like now I'm a better writer. |
| Randy: | You are such a deluded egomaniac! [Randy gets up and walks up to face Brad] |
| Brad: | No no, you're the one that's deluded, I mean you think that people want to read your boring intellectual crap? [They continue yelling at each other, indistinct] |
| Jill: | Knock it off! |
| Tim: | Guys, guys, guys! Stop. Stop, stop, stop! [Tim comes over and separates them] What is the problem here? |
| Randy: | The problem is, Dad, that your oldest son is so stupid, he should be writing an article called "Hey, duh!" [Randy leaves to the basement] |
| Brad: | [Shouting after Randy] HEY, I'M TALLER THAN YOU TOO! |
| Tim: | Good comeback, Brad. [Brad heads off upstairs] Huh, well. It's good to know they're both getting along real well at the paper. [Jill looks through the paper which Brad left back on the counter] |
| Jill: | Well look. "Hey yo!" is on the front page. |
| Tim: | Well, great. |
| Jill: | Randy's article is way back here, by the-- [Jill looks over the page and stops by the cooking article] Look, they make Soul*****erry Steak the same way I do! Oh man, Randy must be just feeling awful about this. |
| Tim: | Why, because his mom cooks like a cafeteria lady? |
| Jill: | No look, Brad stole the spotlight away from him. We're going to have to help them out with this one. |
| Tim: | Honey, no! I grew up with four brothers, and the last thing these two need is their parents interfering. |
| Jill: | Well, I know, it's probably better to let them work this out -- |
| Tim: | Yes, yes. |
| Jill: | -- on their own, but I'm their Mommy, and they're being somean to each other! |
| Tim: | Their Mommy?? |
| Jill: | Well? Do you think they will work this out on their own? |
| Tim: | Yes, yes, yes. My brothers and I fought all the time, we always worked through it ourselves. And, and after the casts came off and, and Jeff got used to his glass eye, we were the best of friends. |
| Jill: | Oh... |
| Cut to a little later. | |
| [Tim and Jill are sitting at the table working on their taxes] | |
| Jill: | I just don't get it. Of all the people that they could have audited, why did they have to pick us? [Mark enters from upstairs] |
| Tim: | I think that's pretty obvious, they go after the major celebrities. |
| Mark: | Mind if I put up Brad's article on the refrigerator? |
| Jill: | No, I think that's so sweet that you're so proud of him. [Mark sticks the article on to the refrigerator] |
| Mark: | Actually, I'm doing it to annoy Randy. See, the more they fight, the less they rag on me. [Brad enters] |
| Brad: | Do you guys know where Randy is? I need to talk to him. [Brad goes over to the kitchen] |
| Tim: | Talking is good, that's a good idea. [Randy comes around the corner by the refrigerator] |
| Brad: | [To Randy] Hey idiot, why didn't you tell me Samantha called? |
| Randy: | Uh well, I figured she'd call you back, seeing as how you're so popular and tall. [Mark is still in the kitchen near the refrigerator, now standing right in the middle between Randy & Brad] |
| Mark: | It doesn't get any better than this. |
| Randy & Brad: | SHUT UP! [Mark leaves] |
| Brad: | You know what my next article's gonna be? "Hey yo! Guess who'd beat the crap out of his wimpy brother" |
| Randy: | Yeah, well I have a new title for your article. "Guess who'd beat the crap put of his pea-brain brother" |
| Brad: | What are you trying to say? |
| Jill: | Tim, do something about this. I don't like it. |
| Tim: | I'll handle this. [Tim turns to the kitchen] Boys! Take it outside. [Tim turns back to the document he was reading. Jill looks at him] |
| Randy: | Alright, let's go. |
| Brad: | Alright. [Brad and Randy go into the backyard. Jill gets up] |
| Jill: | Look, you go talk to one, and I'll talk to the other. [Jill goes to the backdoor and looks outside] This is getting out of control. |
| Tim: | You're overreacting. Let them take care of this themselves. |
| [Brad is pushing Randy around in the backyard] | |
| Randy: | [Outside, seen through the backdoor] Doh! |
| Tim: | Maybe you're right. Maybe I'm under-reacting. [Tim gets up and goes outside] Guys, guys, guys. Come on! Split up, come on. C'mon, c'mon, c'mon! Guys. [Tim separates them, to Brad] Stay out here, I want to talk to you, alright? [Randy comes back inside] |
| Jill: | Are you alright? |
| Randy: | Yeah, I'm fine. |
| Jill: | Look, I want to tell you a story from when I was fourteen. |
| Randy: | Oh God, not the flute storyagain! |
| Jill: | It's not the flute story, O.K? Now this is a story about my mother. She.. bought me my very first.... tuba. |
| Randy: | Ah, this is the flute story! |
| Jill: | That's a good story! |
| Randy: | I know, Mom, but I can't sit through it again! |
| Jill: | Look, you know how much I hate it when you guys fight. |
| Randy: | Well then you shouldn't be talking to me, you should be telling your flute story to Mr. Hey Yo-Yo. |
| Jill: | Look, I wouldn't interfere at all if you guys would work this out the way you're supposed to. |
| Randy: | What's the big deal if we don't work it out? |
| Jill: | The big deal is that Brad's going away to college in a year. And you only have so much time left, that you can hang out together. You should take advantage of it while you got it. |
| Randy: | Well that would work. If we could stand the sight of each other. |
| Jill: | I don't believe that's true! I don't think you do either. |
| Mark: | I do. |
| [Randy leaves to his room] | |
| Meanwhile in the backyard. | |
| Tim: | What's going on with you? |
| Brad: | Dad, I don't want to talk about it. |
| Tim: | You gotta talk to me about this. Look, all brothers fight, O.K? When I was a kid I got in a terrible fight with Uncle Steve, I, I borrowed his '56 Chevy, without his permission, -- |
| Brad: | Dad, what's your point? |
| Tim: | I drove it into Courton Lake! |
| Brad: | Oh man, I bet when Uncle Steve beat you up it hurt. |
| Tim: | He roped me up a little bit. The point is, this fight put a big distance between us. It really hurt our relationship. |
| Brad: | Well Uncle Steve is a lot bigger than you, I mean, he's got those huge arms. |
| Tim: | What I'm trying to tell you is, this kind of fighting can hurt your relationship with your brother. |
| Brad: | Oh yeah, I bet Uncle Steve whopped your butt, ha ha. |
| Tim: | He didn't whop my butt. As a matter of fact, if he were here right now I would whop his butt. He's bigger and softer now. I'd grab Mr. Porkbelly by the flab [Tim starts to hit out at imaginary Uncle Steve] and go, "Hey man, who's the kid now, huh. How about that Chevy thing..." |
| Brad: | Dad! |
| Tim: | Hold on a minute. "I - tell - you - what..." |
| Brad: | DAD! |
| Tim: | WHAT?? |
| Brad: | Look, I know what you're trying to say, but if you think I'm gonna go in there and talk to Randy you can forget about it. |
| Tim: | I would just hate to think that a newspaper article would come between you and your brother. |
| Brad: | Yeah, why don't you go tell that to mutant boy? |
| Tim: | And I don't like you calling him names either. |
| Brad: | You just called Uncle Steve Mr. Porkbelly. |
| Tim: | Well that's a term of affection, you know, cuz you know how I like bacon. |
| Cut to the backyard, a little later. | |
| [Randy enters with a stack of newspapers and dumps all but one into the trash, then looks at the front page article one last time. Wilson is watching him from behind the fence] | |
| Wilson: | Well, hidy-ho, Taylor teen. |
| Randy: | Hey Wilson. |
| Wilson: | Shouldn't you be putting those newspapers in the recycling bin? |
| Randy: | No. Thanks to "Hey yo!" this paper is definitely trash. [Randy throws the last paper into the bin too and turns to Wilson] |
| Wilson: | Ohhh, I take it, you didn't like Brad's article. |
| Randy: | Did you read it? |
| Wilson: | Yes, he gave a copy of it to me a few moments ago. |
| Randy: | Surprised he didn't frame it for you. |
| Wilson: | Well actually, he did. [Wilson shows Randy the framed article. Randy climbs onto one of the garden chairs] |
| Randy: | You know Wilson, I've worked for two years at that paper, trying to produce quality journalism. |
| Wilson: | And Brad waltzes in and steals your thunder. |
| Randy: | Well it's not so much that he stole my thunder, it's just what he stole it with. |
| Wilson: | Jock itch. |
| Randy: | You got it. |
| Wilson: | Randy, let me ask you something. If Brad had written a brilliant article, would you feel any differently? |
| Randy: | Well I might be a bit jealous, but at least I would have respected it. |
| Wilson: | You know, despite of what anyone might think of Brad's article, it doesn't diminish the quality of yours. You know Robert Kennedy once said, "Each time a man stands up for an ideal, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope." |
| Randy: | Wilson, I'd like to believe that, but how do I keep pouring my heart into my writing if people are more interested in who's scratching where? |
| Wilson: | You know Randy, once I was a young columnist for the Wichita Star. Then one day I got bumped for my featured column by this hotshot named Walter Winchill. |
| Randy: | Walter Winchill? |
| Wilson: | Oh yes, the God of Gossip, the Earl of Innuendo, the Prince of Propaganda, the Duke of D-- |
| Randy: | Wilson, I get it. |
| Wilson: | No-no-no, I've got one more. The Baron of Baloney. |
| Randy: | So what were you going to say? |
| Wilson: | Well it was just that I was so outraged by being upstaged by Winchill, I wanted to quit. And then suddenly I realized, if more people buy the paper to read Winchill's column, more people are gonna read mine. |
| Randy: | So maybe "Hey yo!" can do for me what Winchill did for you? |
| Wilson: | Absolutely. As a matter of fact, because of him the readership doubled for my column, "Rock Beat". |
| Randy: | You wrote about Rock'n'Roll? |
| Wilson: | No no, no no no. Rocks! |
| Cut to school. | |
| [Brad is working on the computer. Brian hands him some research data] | |
| Brian: | Here's your research, Brad. |
| Brad: | [Reading] "Cheerleader Jenny Morrison is doing some major padding." [Brian nods and puts on a big smile] "A baton twirler who spoke on the condition of anonymity has actually seen Jenny wad the tissues." No, I'm not gonna print that. |
| Brian: | Why not? |
| Brad: | Well because this is "Hey yo!". I have standards. |
| Brian: | Brad, you printed the names of the guys that don't shower after gym class. |
| Brad: | Yeah, you're just mad because your name was on the list. Ha ha. [Brian leaves. Randy enters and comes over to Brad] |
| Randy: | Hey, Brad. |
| Brad: | If you need the computer, I'm almost off. |
| Randy: | Nah, that's alright. Listen, I wanted to talk to you. |
| Brad: | 'bout what? |
| Randy: | Well, I just reread your article, and, took some shots at it that weren't fair. |
| Brad: | And you liked it? |
| Randy: | Well I thought there were some good things in it. You know I didn't know our mascot was allergic to cats. |
| Brad: | Thanks. |
| Randy: | You know, you're kind of like a modern day Walter Winchill. |
| Brad: | The donut guy? [Pause] |
| Randy: | O.K... |
| Brad: | So, um, what are you planning on writing about next? |
| Randy: | You know I haven't really thought about it. Still kind of calming down from my last article. |
| Brad: | Yeah, it was pretty intense. |
| Randy: | You actually read it?? |
| Brad: | Yeah, I read it, I really didn't understand what I was reading, but, I could definitely tell you're a talented writer. |
| Randy: | Thanks. You know, maybe one day we can combine our talents and write something together. "Hey yo! Did you see what Ralph Nader wore to the latest EPA conference?" |
| Brad: | Or if he's got jock itch, we've got a story! |
| Cut to the living room. | |
| [Tim & Jill are on the couch. Tim is reading a magazine] | |
| Jill: | This auditor is in for a big surprise. After adding together all the receipts from three years ago, we overpaid our taxes. We are gonna get a refund. |
| Tim: | Hello, speed boat. |
| Jill: | Three dollars, and seventeen cents. |
| Tim: | Hello, sun block. |
| Jill: | Yeah... You know, as long as we're in this tax mood, I think we should finish this year's taxes and mail 'em in early. |
| Tim: | Why would we want to do that? |
| Jill: | Because every year we wait until what, five minutes before midnight on, on April 15th, and then you get into the car and drive a hundred and fifty miles an hour, your heart pounding, your face drenched with sweat. |
| Tim: | Please don't take that away from me. |
| Cut to the project house. | |
| Heidi: | Welcome back to "Tool Time" on location. [Tim and Al are standing by the window. Al salutes] |
| Tim: | Thank you, Heidi. We're back in our condin- continu- fordinforgetthe-- |
| [Beep, cut] | |
| Al: | Well, I'm using a reciprocating saw on these 2x4s, [Heidi stumbles past in the background] but it doesn't seem to be-- [Turns to Heidi] Are you alright there, Heidi? |
| [Beep] | |
| Cut to the kitchen. | |
| [Tim is reading the letter, Jill is peeling potatoes. Brad enters through the front door] | |
| Brad: | Well, I talked to my college advisor, and she said I needed some more extra-curricular activities. |
| Tim: | You could start by helping your Mom and me for-uh fafi-ish-afagabi. [Brad laughs] |
| [Beep] | |
| Cut to the kitchen. | |
| Randy: | Well you know I have a new article for your title... No I don't, I have a new title for your article! [They both start laughing] |
| [Beep] | |
| Cut to the living room. | |
| [Tim is sitting at the table, Jill is looking out the backdoor] | |
| Jill: | It's getting very out of control. |
| Tim: | You're overreacting, let them deal with this themselves. [Brad and Randy appear in the backyard, fencing. Jill laughs] |
| THE END | |
