Postponing of "Arnold's "Christmas."

Hey, guys. I won't be able to post the review until Tuesday night, so hang in until then.

- Deebiedoobie

S1, E10: "Door #16" / "Arnold as Cupid"

"Door #16"

The alternate title for this episode should be "The Origin of Slenderman." 

Smooth, noir-style jazz plays as someone drops off a dry-cleaned trench coat and bowler hat at the Sunset Arms.

Do these people not realize this is like a laboratory-grade magnet for thieves? 

Arnold steps out onto the stoop to get the newspaper and milk that was delivered to the front door, and also grabs the trench coat, too. Honestly, this show really should have just been set in 1940s Brooklyn. While I know newspapers are still delivered, no one drops off milk to your front door every morning anymore. At least, not unless you're old and/or crippled. There are too many grocery stores and cars  in Brooklyn now, if that's the reason. And passerbys might steal them. Heck, there's a (small) supermarket literally right around the corner from my parents' apartment. We'd probably look lazy if we asked them to deliver groceries to our front door.

Arnold takes the stuff inside, and hangs the coat and hat on this weird mechanical rack that comes out of the wall in room #16. I swear, it reminds me of that opening scene from that Ed, Edd n Eddy episode where Double D (Edd) is practicing his first day of school routine.

Meanwhile, Grandpa is taking his sweet-ass time in the shower, causing a line to form outside of the main bathroom. Why the hell is there only one bathroom in the entire boarding house? I know that's probably standard, but it's horribly impractical if you ask me. 

Oskar Kokoshka, my all-time favorite boarder in the Sunset Arms (and most likely inspired by the Austrian poet, artist, and playwright), complains that Mr. Smith, who lives in the mysterious room, has his own private shower and suite. Well, now. Unless he installed it himself with his own money, that's not very fair. 

Hell, Mr. Smith even gets breakfast delivered to him via an anti-gravity vacuum tube of some sort.

I want to know more about this mysterious Mr. Smith. Maybe that's not even his real name. Maybe he's part of some witness protection program, or works in Area 51. Maybe he's an alien. We will never know.

Arnold keeps insisting that Mr. Smith is simply a private man, and that there's nothing wrong with him. And then this scene happens:

I have many questions.

Three things I noticed about this scene:

1) That is Slenderman. I don't care what you say. I'm going to refer to Mr. Smith as Slenderman from now on. 

2) What the hell are the animals doing?

3) The left side of Slendy's suitcase is in front of the kitchen door frame. Animation error!

The second Slenderman walks out the door to do things, some man with the face of a ventriloquist dummy--you know, the deep lines down the sides of their mouths--comes to the door with a package for him. The hell? Did he not just see Slenderman walking out the door? Anyway, the man tells Arnold to give the package directly to Slendy, and no one else, and for some reason trusts this 9-year-old kid with some military-level security. Oh, we know we can trust Arnold, but does this guy know? That kind of shit would get you fired in real life.

All the boarders get real curious about the package that Arnold was specifically assigned to guard with his life, and so he makes a run for it up to his room before the boarders rip open that box to shreds. Watch it just be a piece of string inside that box. Or an embarrassing snapshot of the boarders at last year's Christmas party.

Gerald comes over and learns about the box, and he tries to get Arnold to open it, too. Arnold explains why he can't, meanwhile Ernie is up on Arnold's sky window trying to unscrew the hinges to swipe the box.

Of course, he cartoonishly falls over in failure. 

Arnold decides that he must go out and deliver the package to Slenderman personally. So, the boys pool together what they know about Slenderman already to figure out where he could be. Arnold says that he always wears a fancy bowler hat, so Gerald thinks Slendy must frequent the town bowler hat shop, and he knows exactly where it's located because some other mystery character, "Fuzzy Slippers," gets his bowler hats there, too. Well ain't that convenient!

Arnold and Gerald do the ole "kid stands on another kid's shoulders to make himself look like a man" routine, and trick the hat clerk to fetch a fancy Renaissance hat at the top shelf so that Gerald can search through the clerk's client files for Slenderman's information. Considering there are probably hundreds of people in the city with the last name "Smith," how would Gerald know if he has the right man? Well, the clerk does mumble to himself about how he doesn't have many customers, so a smaller client list might mean fewer instances of someone bearing that name showing up. Why would a hat shop need a client list, though? And why is the clerk so dumb to not realize that Arnold is clearly a child?

You can hear the clerk mumbling about how he hates his job while he's up on the ladder, and then falls into a pile of hats. giving Arnold and Gerald an opportunity to make a run for it before the clerk starts asking more questions.

So, Gerald finds out from that file that Slendy works at or frequently goes to a place called Satellite Industries on 234 Smith Avenue. Sounds like a NASA branch or television company to me. The boys go up to the secretary and say they have a package for Slenderman, but since they don't know his first name, if he even has one, the secretary kicks them out. Or maybe she does because Gerald was trying to hit on her. He should have taken some hints from that Cool Moves for Happening Dudes book from "6th Grade Girls."

The boys spot Slenderman getting into a taxi, so they grab a bus and tell the driver to follow it. Um, that is not how buses work, boys. They manage to keep up with him somewhat, chasing him through the city and calling out his name from across the street, but to no avail. And then Slenderman freaking teleports to a rooftop and into a helicopter labeled "16." Damn, what's with this guy?! He's got to be an alien--there's no way some sane individual is that fast.

Arnold realizes he's been defeated, so he then looks at the box and goes "Fuck it, let's open it." But two nuns passing by brings him back to his conscience, and he decides not to open it. He then goes back home with Gerald, figuring the boarders have forgotten all about the package by now.

Arnold comes home to find Grandpa and Grandma engaged in some light BDSM roleplay. Nice to see their marriage is still going strong:

Once Arnold unties the bandanna around Grandpa's mouth, Grandpa starts cursing out Ernie for tying them up. Why he did that, I don't know, but judging by the fact that the boarders clearly haven't forgotten about the package, I'm going to assume they did this so that Grandpa and Grandma wouldn't try to protect Arnold from being jumped by a bunch of jealous, curious 40-year-old boarders.

The boarders chase Arnold and Gerald around the boarding house like wild animals, desperately trying to grab the package. And it just so happens they do. They tear it to shreds, and then stop immediately once they realize what was inside:

Okay, so it wasn't an embarrassing snapshot of the boarders at a Christmas party. It was a normal snapshot of them during Thanksgiving.

It's clear that SpongeBob SquarePants ripped off this plot. Or maybe it's a trope--I don't particularly know of a trope where a mysterious box everyone is trying to open actually contains a heartwarming piece of memorabilia inside. And jeez, did Slenderman order that from Amazon? Why would a package that big be needed for just one tiny photo? Not only that, but what is so mysterious about a photo? I get that it's supposed to be absurd, but it's still kind of ridiculous

And now, everyone feels like shit. Slenderman just loves his boarder family. And then, there's another knock at the door. It's the puppet man again, with a similar package, asking Arnold to give it to Slendy. Here we go again.

"Arnold as Cupid"

Oh boy, an Oskar episode! 

Arnold can't do his astronomy project because the voices of marital breakdown from the Kokoshkas are too distracting. Suzie, Oskar's wife, is yelling at him for shitting away all his money again and putting Suzie's happiness on the backburner, so Suzie has kicked him out, declaring herself a strong, independent woman.

So, Oskar goes to all the boarders asking to stay for the night, but everyone hates the air he breathes, and have no problem telling him to fuck off. Does that sound a bit harsh? To a normal person, yes, but this is Oskar Kokoshka we're talking about.

Oskar is easily one of the best characters on the show. An immigrant from former Czechoslovakia (it's been confirmed by Craig Bartlett), he's lazy, a moocher, and a serious gambler. He doesn't care about anyone but himself. And yet, he's so damn entertaining to watch. I'm sure we've all encountered an Oskar in our lives at one point or another.

Anyway, Oskar decides to take refuge in Arnold's room since he knows Arnold won't say no. Smart. He straight up climbs into Arnold's bed while Arnold stands by the door looking confused and anxious. Hey, if some strange man knocked on my door and took my bed for the night, I'd be upset about it, too.

Being the saint Arnold is, he shrugs and says, "At least it'll only be for a few nights," and sleeps on his pull-out couch. You know, sometimes Arnold is too nice. But as annoying and crooked as Oskar is, it would have been rather cruel to let Oskar just sleep out in the hallway or something.

The next morning, to thank Arnold for his hospitality, Oskar cooks and serves Arnold some delicious French toast and orange juice. Actually, he swiped it from Ernie when he wasn't looking, but that's not the point. He's trying to get on Arnold's good side so Arnold will let him stay in his room longer. Arnold asks what time it is, to which Oskar says 10:30. And then Arnold's like "WTF?! I gotta get to school!" Oskar had turned off Arnold's alarm clock so it wouldn't wake him up. Not Arnold, but himself. Dick.

Later that night, Oskar plays his signature saxophone riff--very off-key and loudly, I might add, while Arnold is trying to study for a test. Arnold asks him to play some other time, but Oskar tells him to study tomorrow. Again, what a dick.

"But Mr. Kokoshka, my test is tomorrow!" - Arnold

Why can't Oskar just play up on the roof if he has to practice so badly? Arnold has every right to stay in his room, so he shouldn't have to go to another room to study.Though if it's really that important, he should have just went downstairs. I really want to know how Suzie managed to stay married to Oskar for this long--I really want to know why Suzie married him in the first place. 

The next day, Arnold failed his test, and he walks in on Oskar making orange smoothies at his desk. And then Oskar's shady-looking friends show up to play cards, and Oskar bets Arnold's CD player for collateral--I don't think that's the right word, but whatever.

So, Arnold's like "You can't bet my stuff away, you freeloader." But Oskar is so sure that he can't lose. Too bad he did. I can't believe these people actually took his CD player! That's straight-up theft. But I kind of fault Arnold for not trying to get that thing back. Losing or not, there was no reason for them to take a kid's CD player even after Arnold specifically said it was his.

That night, right as they're going to sleep, Arnold tells Oskar that things aren't working out, and that it would be best if he hauled ass out of his room, but Oskar "falls asleep" and therefore didn't hear that. I so believe Oskar did that on purpose; he knows Arnold doesn't want him living in his room. Why doesn't Grandpa kick him out of Arnold's room? He's the landlord. This episode doesn't make much sense.

Gerald inspires an idea for Arnold to get Oskar and Suzie back together so Arnold can have his room back. He goes to Suzie and tells her that Oskar "misses her" like crazy and wants to have dinner on the roof. I'm not married to Oskar and even I can tell that's not like him at all to be that romantic. I wonder what their sex life is like. Oscar probably makes Suzie be on top the whole time. You know what? I don't think I should think about that. And then Arnold convinces Oskar to meet Suzie at the top of the roof for dinner since she "really misses him." Naturally, Oskar thinks "Of course she would. I'm hot shit."

That's a big ass toe. 

So, now comes the dinner, and it's a disaster already. Oskar has no idea how to be a decent human being, so he asks Arnold for help. Arnold tells him to say something nice to her, so Oskar comments on how the stain on Suzie's dress is hardly visible. Oh, how charming. I sincerely want to know how Oskar managed to get Suzie to spread her legs for him, let alone get her to talk to him. He obviously must have done something right in the past to win her over. So why all of a sudden does he not know what he's doing? Is he afraid that everything he does will just make things worse? Maybe, but that still doesn't explain why a nine-year-old kid must resort to giving advice to a 30-something-year-old man on how to seduce his own wife. 

Then Arnold suggests that they dance together. Suzie's like "Dance? With this clumsy fuck?" And then Oskar's like "I'll show you who's a fuck!" Excuse me for getting carried away with these paraphrased quotes; I'm just trying to figure out how this episode would play out if it was real life. And so, everyone starts the music. 

I had no idea all the boarders were part-time musicians.

The dancing goes about as well as you'd think. It's amazing that Oskar managed not to accidentally spin Suzie off the edge of the roof.

As Suzie is soaking her feet in ice water, Arnold brings out dessert--two cherry tarts for ants. Seriously, look at those things; they're tiny. They're like those 100-calorie diet cakes that are advertised as "healthier" than regular cakes. Arnold trips over Suzie's shoes and drops her tart into the bucket.

So now the dilemma is what to do with the lone tart. Oskar could split his between him and Suzie, but it's tiny enough already. What does Oskar do? He actually does something sweet and gives it to his wif--no, I'm just kidding. He freaking noshes that thing down right in front of her like he did nothing wrong.

Suzie stands up, tells Oskar he will never change, and leaves. Oskar looks over at Arnold with bewilderment, because he is an insensitive prick with no brains, and Arnold tells Oskar off, too. 

You know, it's obvious that Suzie and Oskar have been having issues for a while now. I don't know why they don't just divorce. Now, don't get the idea that I'm all rah-rah for divorcing your spouse when issues arise, but to me, it seems like there never really was a romance between them in the first place. Suzie never reminisces about happier times with Oskar or wishes he was his "old" self or anything, so what gives? Was this an arranged marriage? Or maybe Suzie hated her life prior to meeting Oskar that she thought marrying him would give her a better life. Whatever the reason, they don't seem like they should be married to each other in the first place.

Later that night, Arnold finds Oskar packing his suitcase. He's going to leave the godforsaken boarding house and go off on his own. Suzie catches him right as he's going down the stairs, and looks concerned for him. Oskar is certain that he's doing the right thing by leaving, seeing as he's a burden on everyone in the boarding house, so Suzie reaches into her pocket and gives him some money for a cheap motel room or something. Oskar is about to take the money as he always does, but then stops himself.

The aorta in his heart suddenly kicks in, and it begins to warm. Oskar begins to realize that he can't keep taking money from people anymore, especially Suzie, and actually tells her to keep the money. Suzie's like "Say what?!" And Oskar repeats himself. Suzie freaking tosses the money behind her dramatically and practically starts humping him, as it's the first time he's ever thought about anyone but himself. Methinks Suzie is just looking for ways to make Oskar seem like a decent person so she won't have to go through all the hassle of divorcing him.

Suzie coos every time Oskar yelps out "You keep the money!" which now makes me think Oskar is going to use that every time he and Suzie get into a fight in the future. Oskar continues to shout "You keep the money," while Suzie orgasms right then and there in the hallway. And then they go back into their room to fuck, since they're practically halfway there. Is she going to pick up those fifties, though?

You know, it's actually quite sad that Suzie creams her panties over Oskar telling her to keep her money, as if it's the best thing Oskar can say to her. It makes me wonder if Suzie has lived in poverty her whole life or something. What a fucked up marriage.

Lessons Learned From These Episodes: be respectful of others' privacy; think of others instead of yourself all the time; next time you get into a fight with your spouse over money, fix it by saying "You keep the money."

S1, E9: "Mugged" / "Roughin' It"

Aaaaand welcome back to Hey Arnold! Reviewed! I know I personally can't wait to dive into these particular episodes.


"Mugged"

This episode doesn't waste any time getting right to the lesson we should be learning, especially when traveling alone in the city: ALWAYS BE AWARE OF YOUR SURROUNDINGS.

What kind of lowlife scumbag attacks a little kid? Not that he would be any more in the right mugging an adult, but how much money could a nine-year-old possibly have on him? And just why would someone do that in the first place?! I just think he was waiting for the next person to walk by the alleyway, and Arnold happened to be that unlucky chum.

The mugger carries Arnold into an alleyway and freaking chucks him at a couple of trash cans like a bowling ball. He demands Arnold's money, but all Arnold has on him is spare change and a bus pass. See? What did I tell you? But that's not the point. The mugger lets Arnold off easy with a warning before throwing him into the trash again.

When Arnold gets home, he tells Grandpa and Mr. Hyunh about his encounter with the greasy punk thug, and Mr. Hyunh is particularly outraged, especially about how big he was compared to Arnold. "How big was this bunk? Big bunk?!" I know I shouldn't be laughing at his accent, mostly when he's angry, but it makes everything he says ten times funnier. So, Grandpa deduces that Arnold should start preparing for the next possible encounter by taking some self-defense courses.

"All the boy needs to do is take one of them self-defense classes. Learn himself some of that haiku." - Grandpa

Grandma comes in with some Tex-Mex steak or something for dinner, and quickly realizes the situation. She offers to make Arnold some green tea and put him to bed, but Arnold is too ashamed, so he makes himself some hot chocolate instead. Poor kid. Grandpa asks Grandma what they're going to do about Arnold, and Grandma starts stirring up an idea.

The next morning, Grandma nearly scares the shit out of Arnold jumping in front of him dressed in her karateji. I suppose that just saved his morning trip to the bathroom. All jokes aside, that probably wasn't the best introduction. I mean, the kid just got the wake-up call of his life last night, and I wouldn't be surprised if he's still jumpy.

Grandma takes Arnold into a gutted out apartment unit that has been turned into her own dojo. I'm just going to assume she's always had this room, because there is no way, even in the cartoon world, she would have kicked out the former tenants, gutted out the place, and put down the carpeting and (fake?) rocks all in one night... and still be this wide awake.

Grandma takes Arnold through some basic breathing and relaxation exercises to get him acquainted with what's coming next. Part of Arnold's training includes trying to snatch a housefly out of Grandma's hand, which Arnold barely even tries to do the first time. Grandma says that when he's able to snatch it with cat-like reflexes and some Harry Potter magic, his training will be complete.

So, for the next few hours, days, I can't tell, Arnold slowly learns the ways of the disciplined. Arnold even accidentally kicks Grandpa in his old balls when attempting to knock a can clear off his head. Ouch.

Eventually, Arnold gets the hang of it, and is able to snatch the fly right out of Grandma's hand. And he squishes it. Ew. Fly guts.

Now, Arnold is a black belt and is ready to show off his new skillz in front of his friends.

He successfully Hulk smashes a wooden board and a cinder block to bits, and even knocks a can clear off of Harold's head, flawlessly. I suppose it must have taken a while for Arnold to get his aim down before Grandma even allowed Arnold to try that again.

Some time later, Arnold and Gerald are taking a walk somewhere, and Arnold explains how Grandma turned him into a martial arts master. Apparently, all anyone needs to know to build confidence like that is to "be a frog in a pond," and that's it. Psssh. And years of training, but who has time for that in an 11-minute episode? Arnold admits that he likes his new, powerful self, and even moreso when he comes to the aid of Brainy and Eugene when they're being mugged by a trio of high school dropout losers. He practically snaps them in half like toothpicks. Well, he actually snaps their toothpicks in half like toothpicks. I don't know about you, but how is that supposed to be threatening? Whatever--the point is, Arnold is now the next Bruce Lee.

Arnold proclaims that he's going to find that bruiser and get his bus pass back if it's the last thing he does. Jeez, I wonder what Arnold would do if someone stole his pencil in class. Gerald chases after Arnold as he stomps down the street and is like, "Whoa, man, don't you think you're overreacting just a bit?" But Arnold ignores him..

Gerald becomes rightly concerned for Arnold's growing vigilante status. He watches Arnold reenact Robert De Niro's famous mirror scene from Taxi Driver in his transformation from wimpy, defenseless kid to bonafide badass with a chip on his shoulder. Lucky thing Arnold didn't have a gun on him at that moment. Now that I think about it, this episode basically is Taxi Driver for kids.

We realize Arnold has gone off the deep end when he goes to school and terrorizes everyone. Hell, even Helga can't believe what Arnold has done to himself.

Sometime later, Gerald straight up tells Arnold that he's changed, but Arnold just can't seem to understand. Typical, classic cliche. Of course, it's not until Arnold turns the corner and literally rips some guy's clothes to shreds that he realizes just how consumed with justice and rage he is.

"I was just trying to ask you where's the bus stop." - Guy

The entire town, in a dark, melodramatic twist, turns on Arnold, causing him to snap out of it and think "Oh, shit, what have I become?!"

Arnold runs down the street, which has turned black and white for dramatic effect. He sees, in all the city folk, his entire transformation flashing with either words of encouragement or words of concern from the people he cares about most. At the climax of this revelation, Arnold sees his shadow against a brick wall in an alley, and it grows and grows until it resembles the silhouette of the creep who took his bus pass and change at the beginning of the episode. And that's it--Arnold has become what he set out to destroy.

He gets on the bus (how, without a bus pass?) and takes a seat next to Grandma, who happens to be there in the back row. Arnold tells her all about his power trip and how he wants to give it all up and return to normal, and Grandma tells him that his training is complete. I thought it was complete when he snatched the fly out of her hand, but now I guess that was supposed to be a metaphor.

So, Arnold comes right out and says that the lesson is that he shouldn't go looking for trouble, he should let it come to him... and then he's free to do his karate chops.

Coincidentally, the thug hops on the bus with Arnold's bus pass. And that's when he recognizes him.

Born: Yes

The thug forces Grandma to hand over her purse, which she lets him have without lip. And then he recognizes Arnold (again) and teases him with his bus pass. He dangles it in front of him, not realizing that in that unspecified amount of time, Arnold has mastered all four elements: kicking cans, chopping blocks, striking threatening poses, and grabbing things.

Arnold remembers his training back to his first lesson--be the frog in the pond--let the fly come to him--and just like that, he snatches the bus pass right out of his hand. That's how you do it!

So, the punk punks out, gives back all the stuff he took, and literally runs off the bus crying. Just goes to show how weak people like him are. Strong in muscles, weak in defense.



"Roughin' It"

Ahh, what a wonderful day to go camping in the woods. Grandpa decides to take Gerald and Arnold along for some "real" camping experience.

If Grandpa wanted to get the real camping experience, they should have hiked all the way from the city.

Arnold and Gerald want to jump right into all the fun things about camping, but Grandpa tells them that they have to set up camp first. Okay, sure, no problem. Once they're done, they ask again, but Grandpa insists that it's more important for them to learn basic survival skills before they start having fun. See, this is why I would consider putting my future kids into scouting. I wouldn't know how to survive in the woods if my life depended on it.

Grandpa teaches the boys all they need to know to get around unpaved turf, like how to identify footprints, berries, and how to avoid stepping in animal poop. Yeah, they went there.

"See these bear tracks? Nine times out of ten, you can bet you'll close your eyes, spin around twice, and step right into fresh bear shit."

Grandpa also stresses the importance of remembering which berries are poisonous and which aren't. "Red and sweet are good to eat. But I swear by the sonnet, green'll make you vomit." Of course, Arnold mixes this up, and upchucks some bright green, half-digested berries.

I sincerely wonder if these tips Grandpa is giving are legitimate. I should ask my boyfriend--he was in Boy Scouts.

Oh, and Gerald gets sprayed by a skunk trying to figure out the way back to camp via a patch of tree moss. Hope Grandpa brought along a large bucket and several cans of tomato juice.

The only thing worse than getting sprayed with a quart of skunk stench, apparently, is sharing a tent with Grandpa. Snores and farts galore.

The next morning, as Grandpa is whipping up some delicious pancakes, Arnold and Gerald decide to call it quits. Already? I guess the first day didn't go so well, but they want to go home after one day? What happened to all the swimming and hiking they wanted to do? I don't know about Gerald, but this is so unlike Arnold to want to give up so easily. But the boys complain that they're cold and dirty and hungry. Grandpa tells the"No shit, that's the only way to camp". That is, until some fancy-shmancy RV rumbles up near them and takes down a pine tree like it just folded a piece of paper.

Out of the RV comes Helga, Phoebe, and Big Bob Pataki, Helga's blowhard, beeper extraordinaire father, also "camping."

Basically, Big Bob is only here to test out his new "camping" equipment, and also using it as a way to convince Miriam that he's spending quality time with Helga. Helga is unimpressed with the beauty the natural wilderness has to offer, and decides watching the Kardashians on their 80-inch flatscreen TV is more interesting than trees and dirt. Big Bob's like, "Whatever," and tells the girls to pull out the steaks from the freezer so they can have steak and eggs for breakfast. Why do I feel like Big Bob represents the average, conservative American? And if you're going to watch TV inside a big ole RV with all the bells and whistles, what is the point of going camping in the first place?

Phoebe mentions to Helga that Arnold and Gerald are in the next campsite, and Helga shits her pants. Here comes the soliloquy:

Helga, in an unfiltered state of euphoria and lust, decides she wants to reveal her love for Arnold in some secluded area off camp. Not that Helga would actually do this, otherwise she risks serious humiliation and possible trauma-induced depression, but her fake plan is saved by Big Bob calling the girls over for breakfast. For some reason, probably so she can play footsie with Arnold and pretend it's a skunk, she asks Big Bob to let the boys come eat with them. He shrugs approvingly, and Arnold and Gerald fly over there like the fucking roadrunner. Meep-meep!

So, Arnold and Gerald leave Grandpa sitting alone at the campfire burning pancakes while they practically shove steak and eggs through their faces, bypassing their throats, and directly into their stomachs.

Update: I just got back on my questions earlier. My boyfriend said that green berries are just under ripe, and color isn't indicative of them being poisonous. And moss cannot be used as a compass.

So, I guess Helga's plan to get Arnold all to herself isn't just one of her fantasies. She asks Big Bob if they could all go hiking, much to Big Bob and Phoebe's surprise, as Helga constantly mentioned how much she hated hiking on her way up to camp. Arnold reluctantly agrees to go, feeling bad that he would be leaving Grandpa to fend for himself in the woods. Oh, but Arnold has no problem abandoning pancakes for his bully's blowhard dad's meat.

Big Bob breaks out some more useless rich people contraptions to keep everyone "comfortable" for the hike, including a water-spraying headband for himself, a pre-Google Maps GPS tracker, and a gigantic refrigerator full of lunch that he's making Helga carry like a pack mule. Now that's just abuse. My brother and brother-in-law just helped bring my mom's new refrigerator upstairs into our apartment today, and seeing how they practically broke their backs lifting it all the way up the stairs, I can only feel pure sympathy for Helga.

Were trail mix and bottles of Poland Spring out of the question?

Honestly, I think Big Bob only likes these gadgets just to show them off. Because when everything starts breaking down, he chucks them over the edge of the cliff like the useless junk they are. Including the fancy backpack refrigerator. How the hell did it turn everyone's lunch into green, moldy sludge in just a couple of hours?

"Hoo-fah! Holy tolito, that's rank!" - Big Bob

They decide to go back to camp for more delicious porterhouse steaks, but they end up getting lost. Looks like Big Bob should have taken a camping trip with Grandpa so that he wouldn't have gotten four fourth graders lost in the woods all day.

Big Bob gets electrocuted by his water-spraying headband (ironic, I believe), and admits that he doesn't know what the fuck he's doing. Helga completely loses it, until Arnold announces that he and Gerald have bonafide master's degrees in wilderness survival thanks to Grandpa, and gets everyone back to camp in a jiffy.

Arnold spots Big Bob's RV in the distance, but isn't quick enough to warn Big Bob not to run through the bushes because it's poison ivy. Arnold goes up to Grandpa, who I hope wasn't sitting in front of that fire all day because that would just be sad, and tells him how they got themselves lost in the woods but found their way back thanks to his skills. And then he asks to stay one more night to camp out the right way--without all that high-tech junk.

So Grandpa and the kids have a wonderful rest of the night around the campfire...

...while Big Bob is left to heal his bruised ego. And take a deep bath in calamine lotion.

Lessons Learned From These Episodes: Only use self-defense when you are in personal danger; don't be a vigilante--that's Batman's job; learn survival skills when you go camping; don't bring Big Bob Pataki hiking with you