I wish I could see your sister's face when she finds Courtney's frog in her bed.
You and me both. This is gonna be good.
If she doesn't scream soon, I'm gonna have to give my frog a drink.
Ferdinand gets dehydrated.
It's Will and Hilary. Open up.
No. We're all gonna die.
We wanted to say good night.
We're going to bed just as soon as we finish this frog-leg soup.
Frog-leg soup?
- It's mm-mm good. - I wish you could have some...
but there wasn't enough frog to make more than two bowls.
- Can I have a bite? - Sasha, they're eating Ferdinand.
Ferdinand? This is a guy frog?
Nighty-night. Don't let the snails bite.
Snails?
That's funny, I thought she said she put snakes in your sleeping bags.
Psych!
- That means "just kidding." - Nighty-night.
Will?
Will you tell us a scary story before you go, please?
Okay, but I hope everybody's ready to be scared to death.
Yes!
Wait. Hold up. Scream for me one time.
That's good.
I got a scary story, but I have to warn you...
it's really, truly frightening.
- Any of you have pacemakers on? - No.
See, what makes this story so scary is that it's true.
It happened to a guy named Will... bert.
Wilbert Smith... sonian.
See, Wilbert Smithsonian grew up in Philly.
He went to school in the 'hood, right?
But this school he went to was so tough...
I mean, it was graffiti everywhere, even on the principal.
But that's not the scary part.
It all happened right here in Bel-Air...
when Wilbert was transferred to a private school.
It was a living nightmare.
How long they trying to keep us here?
Banker, what do you know?
- It's who you know that counts. - Carlton, how you doing?
- Wallace. - Chadster!
- Bankster! - I'd like you to meet my cousin...
Willster!
So, Studmaster General, what's the word on co-ed tennis camp?
I really got a lot out of it, amigo. Scored big on and off the court.
Way to play. I kid you not, Will, women faint at this man's feet.
Odor-Eaters work for me.
Outrageous. This guy's seriously twisted.
He gets in a good one now and then.
Will, this is Simon Stanhope, our student council president.
It's my job here to give you the tour.
I took the Universal Tour. You know that earthquake ride?
Look out! Here comes the subway car!
Excuse my cousin. He just doesn't know.
As I was saying, this is our founder...
and those are the first students of the Bel-Air Academy...
and they all carved their names on this...
the alumni desk.
And these are the championship oars that we retired in 1957.
Y'all don't throw nothing away.
I'm Edward Fellows III, but call me Ned, okay?
Okay.
You've been assigned to my lit class, so I read your records.
I just wanted to say, we're both coming from the same place.
You're from Philly?
Shaker Heights, Ohio. But when I was doing research...
on my main man Langston Hughes, I lived in Harlem.
And believe me, those two weeks changed my life.
"I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young
"I built my hut by the Congo and it lulled me to sleep
"My soul has grown deep like the waters"
I can tell.
Listen, I've got a mean collection of jazz platters.
Anytime you feel like grooving, come over and get down with my bad self.
Seriously, you have any problems, any questions?
Where are all the fly honeys at?
- Fly honeys? - Yeah, girls.
Will, didn't anybody tell you this is an all-boys school?
Greetings Bel-Airdales. We're the Alligaroos.
And we'd like to take this opportunity to tell you new students to...
Then Wilbert saw their evil plan.
They were trying to break him down.
First, they told him it was an all-boys school.
Then they tortured him with a half an hour of Broadway show tunes.
But he wouldn't break.
Then they went ballistic.
They brought in the evil teacher, Dr. Bloat.
Enter the Bloat. Five, four, three, two...
I am Dr...
B, period, Langford...
Oates.
And you are...
Alan, Banks, Downer, Fales, Hunt, Lieberbaum, Smith...
William Smith.
Stanhope, Sterling, Svenson...
Yo!
- Mr. Svenson? - Ja?
Mr. Smith, how good of you to join us. Mr. Smith, look around.
Do you see any difference between yourself and the other young gentlemen?
Is that like a trick question?
The tie, Mr. Smith. The tie.
Kindly consult that section of the rule book pertaining to neckwear.
You mean Section 3, Paragraph 4, which states:
"A tie must be worn with a Windsor knot."
But it doesn't say where.
Take a seat.
Now may we turn our attention to history? Thomas Paine once wrote...
- Mr. Smith? - Weren't you the bad guy in Goldfinger?
- Smooth. - Looking great.
- Sharp. Look at that. - It's a little something I put together.
Smith, ho!
- My man Lieberbaum. - Right. First name Kellogg.
Listen, Cornflake.
"Ho" is definitely not a word that you want to yell.
I think the word you're looking for is "yo."
"Yo"?
Yeah. It'll be easy to remember. It's like "oy" backwards.
All right.
Will. Yo.
Will, may I have a word?
You got something you want to say to me, man?
Can you be serious for just one moment?
Will, this is your first day.
And I think you're rubbing a lot of people the wrong way.
Carlton, here in Boys Town...
I don't want to rub anybody any way.
That's not funny. Nothing you say is funny.
What, did you like pass out in history class? I had them rolling.
The people who count were laughing at you, not with you.
I mean it, Will.
When you're snubbed, don't say that I did not warn you.
Hey, Will. How's it going?
- There you are. - Okay, here comes Chadney.
Just lay low and watch how it's done.
Are you free this weekend, Smithy?
My parents are throwing a weekend bash at our compound in Malibu.
Badminton, the lobster boil, you know, the usual.
Yes, the usual.
The Chadster's Malibu bashes are legendary.
Carlton, you should come, too.
Bang-bang.
My man Geoffrey.
- Master William. - You know what I could go for right now?
- Some pâté. - Then by all means, go.
Might I recommend the gourmet deli on Roxbury?
When I said I could go for it, I mean, like, I want it...
like you go for it.
Wilbert thought his first day at Bel-Air Academy was a big success.
When he told his aunt and uncle, they were thrilled.
This is cause for celebration.
Geoffrey, Will did well at school.
This calls for champagne.
There's been a tragedy at the school.
The alumni desk has been cruelly and wantonly defaced.
- What happened? - Someone carved the word "fresh" in it.
And they have a theory about the person who did it.
They do?
They think it was a freshman who got halfway through and lost his cool.
He lost his cool? That's funny. "Fresh" means cool, right, Will?
I can't keep up with this crazy teenage slang.
But I thought they call you the Fresh Prince.
Day damn one, Vivian.
Champagne.
Cork it.
All I can say to you, Will, is tsk squared.
You thought you had the school all figured out.
No. You didn't need my advice.
All right, Carlton, what is your brilliant advice?
I'll tell you.
You've gotta march straight into school tomorrow and confess.
I'm serious, Will.
There's such a thing as the honor code.
There's such a thing as dog dumb, too.
- You don't intend to tell them? - Maybe on my deathbed.
Then on your conscience be it.
Before we begin the class, I must speak about the atrocious defiling...
of our sacred alumni desk.
Fingerprint analysis has shown...
it is the handiwork of our resident hoodlum, William Smith.
And may we turn our attention to another important figure in American history.
Dolley Madison...
was one of our most influential First Ladies...
and not, as Mr. Smith contends...
the manufacturer of Ring Dings.
In the short time left, I'd like to address...
the infamous act of vandalism which occurred here yesterday.
The desecration of our desk is indeed sad...
but even sadder is the fact that no one has yet come forward with a confession.
- So if any of you may know... - He did it.
Can you believe it?
Wilbert was accused by his evil cousin Carlton...
I mean, Carlbert.
I don't get what's scary about this story.
There aren't any werewolves or vampires or anything.
But we're coming to the scary part.
Poor Wilbert was brought to trial before the scariest monsters of all:
Preppies.
As president of student council, I declare this tribunal in session.
Let's begin by hearing from Mr. Smith.
Will, will you finally take my advice?
Let me do the talking for you.
Gentlemen, my cousin has committed a vicious crime.
He could not be guiltier.
Yeah. That's what I would have said.
The fact is, young Will has not yet developed the social skills...
to adapt to the rarefied atmosphere of Bel-Air Academy...
or parties in Malibu.
I recommend we put him on probation, ban him from all clubs...
sports, special events, the Alligaroos.
No, not the Alligaroos.
Probation is not enough.
If Smith isn't expelled, it will be an invitation to anarchy.
I have to say that I am appalled...
at this tribunal's lack of sensitivity.
Speak on, bro.
We can't judge Will Smith by our standards.
He doesn't even speak our language.
Where he grew up, the word "bad" means "good."
Doesn't that say it all?
Fight the power.
- Will, do you have anything to say? - Yeah.
I didn't think y'all was gonna get so mad...
for me writing my name on an old desk.
I'd never write my name on a new desk. That's vandalism.
But those guys, they carved their name in a new desk.
They got their picture on the wall.
That's totally different.
They carved their names so people would remember them as part of the school.
That's why I did it.
That's ridiculous. You're trying to ruin our school.
- No, he isn't. - Lieberbaum, you're out of order.
But he's not ruining the school. He's making it better.
Word up, Cornflake.
I don't mean to dis you guys...
but if Will's expelled, I'm leaving, too...
and I'm taking my dad's checkbook with me.
Free Will!
I'm going to bed.
I hope you realize how lucky you were that you weren't kicked out of school.
Lucky? I gotta work every day after school to pay off the desk repair.
Before I cry myself to sleep...
may I leave you with a few words of advice?
If at some point tomorrow, or during my lifetime for that matter...
you come up with another brilliant idea for something to do at school, stop.
Do nothing.
Just stand there doing nothing...
saying nothing...
arms at your side like a zombie.
Breathing just enough to keep the blood circulating.
And no more.
Could you do that for me?
I'm sorry, Uncle Phil. I wasn't listening. What did you say?
Good night, Will. Lock your door when you go to bed.
Will, before I go to bed, I just want to say...
I was proud of you tonight, old sport. Kudos.
You took your punishment like a man.
- That's all you got to say? - Good night?
- Carlton, you Five-Oed me, man. - Excuse me?
- You dimed me out. - Pardon?
You tattled on me, all right?
I did it for your own good. You weren't going to tell.
How do you know? You didn't give me a chance.
You're not worried about my own good. You're just worried about yourself.
It may seem like that to you now, but one day, you will...
Carlton, shut up!
I know what this is about.
You thought you were this big hotshot at school...
and I was gonna be your little charity case, but I took your juice.
Let me explain something to you.
In this society, we have this silly little thing called order...
and we have rules to preserve that order.
If we let people break the rules, there would be chaos.
We have rules where I'm from, too. And they say you don't rat on people.
The more you cling to your old ways and refuse to listen to reality...
the harder it's going to be for you to fit in with my friends.
You just don't get it, do you, man? I don't want your friends. All right?
If I woke up one morning and I had all of your friends...
and I was an Alligaroo...
and I wore those cute shirts with the little horses on them...
I'd jump off the Empire State Building and hope to catch my eyelid on a nail.
With quips like that, it's no wonder you're the toast of the town.
Good night, Will.
Master William.
I have been informed that due to your new after-school employment...
you will no longer be requiring your customary 4:00 snack.
Could this be true?
Yeah, afraid so, G. I might not even get home till dinner time, if that early.
What a pity.
Out of curiosity...
just what is the nature of your enforced labor?
Kitchen duty. Fetching, cleaning, carrying, that kind of stuff.
Indeed.
Oh, well. Chin up.
Picture this if you will...
my man Wilbert in a kitchen with a hair net on his head.
If that's not a scary thought, I don't know what is.
So look. You all gotta do me a favor. Raise your right hand.
I want your solemn promise that if any of you ever meets Wilbert Smithsonian...
you won't tell him I told you this story, okay?
- Swear? - I swear, Wilbert Smithsonian.
Will's cold busted.
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