Gabby Duran and the Unsittables

And why are you watching an egg?

It's some kind of alien pet, I guess.

The owners are on vacation in another galaxy,

predpolaga se 4e trqbva da predpoloja on it for the next couple weeks.

But don't get too excited,

it's not supposed to hatch or anything until they get back.

- Oh, no. - Oh, yes!

Witnessing an alien birth?

This is so high on my bucket list!

Come on, little guy! You can do it!

Push! Push!

Wow.

The miracle of life is...

super ugly.

Don't listen to her, buddy. You're adorable!

I'm gonna name you Wesley Jr.

Gabby: Hey, buddy, who's your favorite baby-sitter.

Whoa, what was that?

I'm not sure, but I have an idea.

Try petting him.

Oh-Kay...

Yup, just like I thought.

It looks like Wesley Jr. emits strong vibrational energy

when he gets upset.

Don't you, guy?

Alien earthquake bird?

I guess we gotta keep it happy then!

Also... how dare you like Wesley more than me! (Scoffs)

All right, a little shading on the beak there.

Oh, that's nice.

- Wesley, you have outdone yourself. - (door opens)

I don't know what's worse:

Getting puked on by an alien bird

or having to wear this shirt.

- What you working on? - Check it out.

I've been working on a field journal

with everything we've learned so far about aliens.

Oh-Kay.

You realize we have to burn this, right?

What? No! Why?

Because this alien stuff is top secret, Wes!

What if someone found this?

Or what if Swift found out I told you?

I could lose my job!

Is this all there is?

Yes and no.

Yes, this is all there is of this journal.

Wes...

There's... two more.

I do not get it.

- You don't get what? - Nothing.

Just a guy on the street saw me and said he didn't like

my Dina Duran human interest segments on the news.

Who cares what he thinks? It's just one guy, right?

Well... when I said, "On the street,"

I meant, "In my office." And when I said, "One guy,"

- I really meant, "My boss." - Olivia: Oh.

- That's bad. - Dina: Yeah.

The ratings for my segments haven't been great.

And if I can't figure out why my feel-good pieces

are making people feel bad, I might get cancelled.

Ooh! Can I help?

I love solving work problems.

They're so much weightier

and more complex than school problems.

Actually, I could really use an outside opinion.

Yes! I hope you're ready

for some loving-but-honest criticism!

Okay.

Trust me...

this is for the best.

Do we have to?

I put a lot of work into these.

Every alien experience, every story you ever told me...

All the more reason we have to get rid of it!

Now where are your matches? Huh?

Nope. Can't do it.

Hey! Give me those!

- I won't show anyone! - I can't risk it!

You're forgetting: I'm a little bigger than you.

You're forgetting: I fight dirty.

Whoa!

- (screaming) - (Wesley grunting)

- Give me those! - No!

They're my journals!

I'm the one who babysits aliens, it's my decision!

Stop freaking out!

No one's gonna find out!

Man: Find out about what?

Hey. Mr. and Mrs., uh, Wesley's parents.

There you are!

What happened with your parents?

Bah! Don't worry about it.

My parents don't think the aliens are real.

But they do think that I think they're real.

So I've got an appointment with

the school guidance counselor this afternoon

to discuss my "cry for help."

Wes, this is bad.

I know.

Terry keeps a big bowl of butterscotch candies

on his desk, and I have, like, zero self-control...

No! Now another person is gonna see the journal!

You really screwed this up!

Me? This is your fault, you know!

No one would have found anything

if you hadn't tried to make me destroy my life's work.

Well, then you shouldn't have been keeping journals in the first place!

You know what?

I'm starting to think you shouldn't help me babysit anymore.

Well, you know what?

I'm starting to think I shouldn't help you babysit anymore!

- I just said that! - I just said that!

Wesley Jr. likes me more than you.

How dare you!

Your parents are very worried.

And looking at some of these pages,

I'd have to agree.

These images are...

somewhat disturbing.

They are?

Just in the drawing skill.

You're 13. You really should be a better artist.

So, Wesley.

These "Gor-Mons" you imagine. Do they talk to you or...

What?

No, they don't talk to me. It's all make-believe.

Kinda like your own imaginary fantasy world.

Exactly!

Well, I can relate to that.

I, too, enjoy the world of pretend.

Only for me, it's a vaguely medieval realm

where I'm called Prince Terry

and I rule a kingdom of centaurs.

You know, people-horses?

Cool.

Terry: Wesley, you seem just fine to me.

I see no reason why we need to...

Okay, Terry, I'll take over from here.

Principal Swift. This isn't your jurisdiction.

I was just dismissing young Wesley here...

And I was just remembering

when you and your dress-up buddies

used the school gymnasium

for an unauthorized people-horse battle.

Good luck to you!

So, Wesley.

- Let's talk, shall we? - Wesley: Sure.

Hey, here's a topic:

You ever notice how "flammable"

and "inflammable" mean the same thing?

That's weird.

Here's another topic:

Aliens and what you know about them.

Dina: (on laptop) So if you need a new cat groomer,

you paws-itively can't go wrong.

For Local 6, I'm Dina Duran.

And the ball's in your court.

So if you're looking for a fun afternoon,

park yourself at the park.