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Arthur's Chicken Pox Title Card

(Arthur eats cereal at the breakfast table. His mom is on the phone.)

Mrs. Read: [on the phone] ...fifteen kilograms of prunes...

Arthur: It's a typical Monday morning in the Read house.

Kate: (cries)

(Mr. Read is cooking. D.W. searches a cupboard and throws pots and pans behind her, while Pal is running around the house.)

Mrs. Read: [on the phone] ...no card, no return address-- just these prunes. And my birthday was months ago, so I have no idea why or who...

Arthur: Sometimes I wish I lived in a quieter place.

(D.W. marches through the kitchen banging two pot lids together like cymbals. She is wearing a tutu.)

D.W.: The circus is coming! The circus is coming! The circus is coming....

Arthur: Like the middle of the desert, or Mars, maybe. (D.W. bangs the lids right next to his ear.) Aah!

D.W.: Didn't you hear me? The circus is coming. In only six more days. (She bangs the lids again.)

Mr. Read: All right. That's enough. (He takes the lids away.)

D.W.: But Dad! The circus is coming!

Mrs. Read: Just a minute, Carol. We heard you, honey. Several times.

Arthur: It's not that I'm not excited about the circus, because it's really fun when we go.

(Flashback: The Reads sit in a circus ring with many other people. A shadow falls on D.W.)

D.W.: (gasps) (an elephant's trunk grabs her cotton candy and ice-cream) Aaaaaahh!!

~~~

(The flashback ends. Arthur paints a picture of a circus elephant in in art class.)

Arthur: It's just that the circus isn't until Saturday, and besides, I'm feeling a little funny.

~~~

Title Card: D.W. Chases the Toad[]

Binky: (voice) Arthur's Chicken Pox

~~~

(The kids are painting in art class. Binky uses his brush viciously.)

Binky: (grunts and growls)

(Some red paint from Binky's brush falls on Buster's easel, where it forms an interesting comet shape.)

Buster: (gasps softly) Hey, thanks!

(Muffy is painting a $1000 bill. She notices that Sue Ellen is painting blue trees.)

Muffy: Miss Bryan, Sue Ellen is making her trees the wrong color! (Miss Bryan comes over.)

Sue Ellen: Oh.

Ms. Bryan: But these are lovely. It doesn't matter what colors you used.

Sue Ellen: (blows raspberry at Muffy) (Muffy frowns)

Ms. Bryan: See? Arthur's elephants are blue.

Muffy: Hmph.

(Arthur has painted an elephant in a circus arena. It suddenly becomes animated and trumpets.)

Arthur: Huh! (The whole easel turns into a blue elephant.) AAAAH! (The elephant looks at him.) Oh, no! (The elephant trumpets again.) AAAAAaAAAAAAAAAAH! (He walks backwards and bumps into Francine.)

Francine: Oof. Watch it!

Arthur: B-blue e-elephant! Huh? (The easel and painting are normal again; Arthur had been hallucinating the easel turning into an elephant.)

~~~

(Arthur lies on a stretcher in the nurse's room. The nurse shines a light on him.)

Ms. Flynn: Now, what's all this about blue elephants? (She puts a thermometer in Arthur's mouth.)

Arthur: (moaning) (Ms. Flynn puts a thermometer in Arthur's mouth.)

(Francine, Muffy, Buster and Brain stand in the door.)

Kids: (murmuring)

Francine: Are you sick?

Muffy: Is it contagious?

Buster: Did you throw up yet?

Ms. Flynn: Shh! (She claps her hands.) Don't you worry. With a little rest and quiet, you'll be good as new. (Arthur smiles.)

~~~

(That afternoon, Arthur sits on the couch at home wearing pajamas. He drinks apple juice and eats crackers while watching TV.)

TV: The Bionic Bunny Show!

D.W.: I'm home! (She comes in and stands in front of the TV.) What's wrong with you?

Arthur: I'm sick.

D.W.: You don't look sick to me.

Arthur: Well, I feel sick. Move!

D.W. (sarcastically): Oh, I see. Big test tomorrow? Or did Binky threaten to crush you?

Arthur: For your information, I had to go to the nurse.

D.W.: Uh-huh, sure. (She takes some of Arthur's crackers.)

~~~

(A while later, Arthur and D.W. sit side by side and watch TV.)

T.V.: Call now and you too can own this genuine imitation leather cowbell! That's right.

(Mrs. Read comes in with a tray for Arthur.)

Mrs. Read: Huh?

T.V.: So pick up the phone, that one, right there on the couch! (D.W. absentmindedly reaches for a toy phone beside her.) Remember, it's not available in stores, supplies are limited, so call right now!

Mrs. Read: (gasps) (sighs) (She turns off the TV.)

Arthur+D.W.: Moooooom!

Arthur: We were right in the middle!

D.W.: Five more minutes!

Arthur: It was just getting to the good part!

D.W.: Oh, Mooom!

~~~

(A short while later, Arthur eats from his tray on the couch, while D.W. sits at the dinner table.)

D.W.: Why do I have to eat at the table?

Mrs. Read: Because you're not sick. (Mr. Read serves spinach.)

D.W.: Blech! Spinach? (She watches Arthur.) How come Arthur doesn't have to eat spinach?

Mr.+Mrs. Read: Because he's sick!

D.W.: He's not! He's faking! (sticks out tongue at Arthur)

Arthur: (blows raspberry)

D.W.: (chuckles) Heh, heh. (She tries to look innocent while her parents stare at her.)

~~~

(That night, Arthur lies in bed.)

Arthur: (moans)

(In his dream, a lady performs on a flying trapeze. Arthur realizes that his bed is high up in a circus arena with the tightrope attached to it as circus stock music plays.)

Arthur: No... no... ah... Hey! (He looks down and does his signature gasp.)

(Suddenly, the bed is gone and Arthur stands in front of the tightrope wearing a leotard.)

Arthur: Whooooa! (A muscular performer hands him a unicycle.) What's this for?

Unicyclist: (Russian accent) You ride it. From here, to there. (He points to the other end of the tightrope.)

(D.W. comes wearing the attire she wore earlier.)

D.W.: Hurry up, I'm next!

Arthur: (balancing on the unicycle) I don't feel so well.

D.W.: Go on, faker! (Arthur rides onto the tightrope.)

Audience: (gasps and shriekes)

(Arthur falls off the tightrope and up into a swirling spiral pattern on top of the tent.)

Arthur: Yeeeowwwwwwwww!

(Arthur wakes up. He is covered in red spots.)

~~~

(Arthur walks into the bathroom. A moment later, he runs out screaming.)

Arthur: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! (He runs into his room and hides under the blanket. His parents come in with D.W. and Kate.)

Mrs. Read: What is it?

Mr. Read: What's wrong?

D.W.: Arthur has polka dots!

Arthur: What's wrong with me? (Mr. Read feels Arthur's forehead.)

Mr. Read: It's chicken pox. (D.W. feels Arthur's forehead.)

D.W.: Do you get it from chickens?

Mr. Read: No, it's just a normal childhood illness. I had it, your mom had it.

Mrs. Read: I'll see if Grandma Thora can come over while we're at work. She knows all about chicken pox. (D.W. looks delighted.)

D.W.: Does this mean Arthur can't go to the circus?

Mrs. Read: Well, we'll have to see.

Arthur: What?!

Mrs. Read: I'm sorry, honey, but chicken pox is very contagious.

D.W.: Looks like you're not going any place for a while. Don't worry, I'll take good care of you. (She smiles and rubs her hands.)

Arthur: (gulps)

~~~

(The next day, Arthur reads in bed. Buster sits in the tree outside and throws a can with a string attached to it into the room.)

Buster: Pick up the can!

Arthur: Buster! It's terrible! You have to save me!

Buster: Save you from the chicken pox?

Arthur: No, from... (gasps) (gulps)

(D.W. closes the window. She is wearing a nurse's costume.)

D.W.: No talking. You're sick. Now, sit back, young man, it's time to take your temperature. (She holds an oversized toy thermometer.)

Arthur: Mom! D.W.'s trying to take care of me, and... (D.W. puts a thermometer in his mouth.)

D.W.: Now lie still while I put on the "gallamine" lotion. (She rubs pink lotion on Arthur's chest.)

Arthur: Don't! Don't, D.W.! (Grandma Thora comes in.)

Grandma Thora: Having fun?

D.W.: (gasps) Grandma Thora, Arthur won't take his medicine!

Grandma Thora: You know, doctor, this is an especially difficult case. How about if I take over for a while? Now, are you ready for something really special? (Arthur smiles and nods.)

~~~

(D.W. puts oatmeal in the bathtub through a sieve.)

D.W.: Oatmeal? In the bathtub? (Arthur sits in the tub holding a drink with a crazy straw.)

Arthur: This feels great! (He scratches his head. He then lies back and takes a sip. D.W. puts oatmeal in his drink.) Cut it out!

D.W.: Hey! Grandma, Arthur's splashing me! And he's scratching, too!

Grandma Thora: I know it's hard, sweetie, but rule number one is no scratching.

Arthur: (gulps)

Grandma Thora: You'll get an infection!

D.W.: If you're a good little boy and don't scratch, I'll bring you a balloon from the circus.

Grandma Thora: I have a wonderful idea, D.W. Why don't you go to your room and draw a picture?

D.W.: I need to guard Arthur so he doesn't scratch.

Grandma Thora: I think we can trust him. (She leads D.W. away.)

Arthur: (annoyed sigh)

D.W.: Well, I don't.

~~~

(When Arthur comes out of the bathroom D.W. watches him through binoculars.)

D.W.: Hmm. (She sees Arthur scratching and blows a shrill whistle.) I saw! You scratched!

(D.W. runs into the kitchen where Thora is preparing a bowl of ice-cream for Arthur.)

D.W.: Grandma! Arthur scratched! I saw him!

Grandma Thora: That's nice.

D.W.: Aren't you going to punish him?

Grandma Thora: Well, sweetie, I think this will make Arthur feel much better. (She holds a tray full of goodies.)

D.W.: Grandma, when do I get to drink with the crazy straw?

Grandma Thora: You don't. It's covered with germs. Your lunch is over by the sink, D.W.

(D.W. pushes up a chair so she can reach her tray. There is a sandwich and a mug without a straw.)

D.W.: Hmph!

~~~

(Arthur lies on the couch and looks at his reflection in a mirror while Thora rubs lotion on his back. D.W. sits on the couch end, looking annoyed.)

Grandma Thora: So I warned your father. I said, "You'd better get the car started, because this little baby is on its way!"

D.W.: What little baby?

Grandma Thora: Arthur! This is about the night Arthur was born. Anyway, he never did get the car started, what with that busted carburetor, so I went in and called a taxi and, oh my, was I worried you'd be born right here in the kitchen!

D.W.: Where was I?

Grandma Thora: You weren't born yet, hon. (She pats Arthur's back.)

Arthur: (sighs)

D.W.: Hmm.

~~~

(A short while later, Thora heats water and D.W. sits at the kitchen table.)

D.W.: What about when I was born?

Grandma Thora: I think I was in Florida then.

D.W.: Can I have a back rub, too?

Grandma Thora: Maybe later. Right now, I'm busy making Arthur some tea. (D.W. gets off the chair looking grumpy.)

~~~

(D.W. powders her face in the bathroom.)

D.W.: (hums)

(Meanwhile, Arthur and Thora watch TV.)

D.W.: (moans)

Grandma Thora: (gasps) (She turns off the TV.)

D.W.: I don't feel well! (She comes down the stairs with red spots on her face.)

Grandma Thora: Good heavens! You have them too!

D.W.: I need an oatmeal bath.

Grandma Thora: Of course, dear. (She picks up D.W. and carries her upstairs. D.W. smiles.)

D.W.: And some... juice? With a... a... a... crazy straw? (fake cough)

Grandma Thora: Absolutely.

~~~

(A short while later, D.W. plays in the bathtub behind a shower curtain.)

D.W.: (hums and laughs) Thora comes in with a cup and a crazy straw.

Grandma Thora: Are you all right in there?

D.W.: I... guess... so.

Grandma Thora: Well, I brought you some nice... (gasps in surprise) D.W.! What happened to all your spots?!

D.W.: I got better?

Grandma Thora: (angered, realizing D.W. is faking it) Dora Winifred, I'm very disappointed in you!

D.W.: Oh. (bows head in shame)

~~~

(That night, D.W. sits on her bed.)

D.W.: Daddy, it's not fair! How come Arthur gets chicken pox and I don't?

Mr. Read: Honey, you're lucky you're not sick. Chicken pox is no fun! (He tucks her in.)

D.W.: Yes, it is! It's more fun than anything!

Mr. Read: More fun than the circus? More fun than elephants and cotton candy and ice-cream?

D.W.: Of course!

Mr. Read: Well, you have till tomorrow to decide. If you don't want to suffer through the circus, you can stay home with Arthur.

D.W.: (sniffs)

~~~

(The next day, Buster is on the phone.)

Buster: So, can you come to the circus?

(Arthur sits on the couch next to Grandma Thora. There are less spots on his face.)

Arthur: Just a minute!

Grandma Thora: Your spots are healing, and I don't see any new ones... no sign of a fever... Yes! I'd say all systems are go!

Arthur: Yes!

(At the other end, Buster smiles.)

~~~

(D.W. comes into the kitchen where the parents are washing up. She is covered with spots again.)

D.W.: I've decided I'm going to the circus.

Mr. Read: Attagirl! After all, how bad can it be? (Jane turns around and sees D.W.)

Mrs. Read: (gasps) (she drops her plate into the sink. David turns around and sees D.W.)

Mr. Read: (gasps) (he drops his plate into the sink as well.)

D.W.: I only wanted pox because I was jealous. (Both parents try unsuccessfully to hide their laughter.)

Mrs. Read: Oh, honey, I-I know you want to go to the circus, but...

Mr. Read: You're being very grown up, sweetie, but, I'm afraid we have some bad news.

D.W.: What's so funny? (She feels her face.) (gasps) (She looks at her reflection in the toaster.) Spots!

Mrs. Read: Now, D.W., I want you to be a big girl and... (D.W. dances around the kitchen.)

D.W.: I have chicken pox! I have my very own chicken pox! Spots, spots, spots! Spots, spots, spots! (D.W. slides over the floor and knocks over Pal's dog dish.) Look at me, Pal: spots!

Mrs. Read: She must be running a fever. (D.W. runs up to Thora.)

D.W.: Grandma, can I have all that stuff now? A tray and a bath and everything?

Grandma Thora: Strangest case I've ever seen. Okay, D.W. You want a bath, you've got it!

(D.W. meets Arthur who is coming down the stairs.)

D.W.: Arthur, Arthur, Arthur! Look at me! I have spots and you don't!

Arthur: But, D.W., you're gonna miss the circus!

D.W.: Who cares? The circus comes every year. But you only get chicken pox once! (She runs up the stairs. Arthur turns to the camera and smiles.)