Beginner Pottery

Shirley:I got up early this morning and caught something on TV.

Shirley:I was looking for the Home Shopping Network, but I accidentally landed on this channel...

Shirley:There were these people doing things I'd never seen before!

Shirley:Turns out I was watching one of those adult channels. I only have it because the cable company said it came free with our package and I didn't know how to remove it.

Pierce:Well, if she's working at a club, why don't you just go down there and show her what you've got? I mean, you've still got that violin, right?

Pierce:Think about it - you could be the only woman doing a strip routine with a full orchestral accompaniment. You'd be unstoppable.

Jeff:Pottery is a blow-off class. It's like... it's the thing you do when you want to be with someone, but you don't want to do anything.

Jeff:It's just you, them, wet clay, and the unspoken promise that nothing will happen.

Pierce:I signed up for a class. Guess which one.

Troy:Captain and Tennille?

Pierce:No.

Troy:Is it about a captain and a lady named Tenille?

Troy:Wait, we're taking a sailing class in a pool? That doesn't make any sense.

Pierce:Of course it makes sense, Troy. It's called 'practicing your sea legs' on land. Classic nautical move. You gotta get your water legs first.

Pierce:Bwahahaha... hehehehe... oohohoho... *wheezing* ...hehehehe... bwahahaha...

Shirley:I'm taking parking lot sailing because it's less pathetic than online dating help.

Troy:You know what? I'm not even gonna pretend to be mad about this. Of course the one black guy in the group is afraid of sailing. I'm like a walking stereotype.

Abed:One... two... three... four... five... six... seven... eight... nine... ten.

Troy:Yeah, we're gonna need a bigger boat.

Jeff:Hey everyone, I'm Jeff. I'm new to pottery, but I'm a fast learner. I've got very... skilled hands.

Pottery Instructor:Welcome, Jeff. Let's start with the wheel.

Jeff:The wheel, huh? I bet I could make that spin pretty good. I've got excellent... technique.

Student:Dude, just throw the clay.

Jeff:I'm trying to get into the zone here. You know, find my rhythm. Really work it nice and slow...

Pottery Instructor:Just center the clay, please.

Jeff:That's what I'm saying. I'm very good at getting things centered. Very... hands-on.

Student:Why does he keep talking like that?

Jeff:I was just... I mean, I wasn't trying to... Look, I genuinely care about this group. That's all I was saying.

Pottery Teacher:Hey there, you beautiful little goobers. Welcome back to pottery class.

Pottery Teacher:Alright, listen up. We have one rule in this class, and it's non-negotiable. No one—and I mean NO ONE—is allowed to do the wheel scene from Ghost. Not the pottery, not the music, not the hand-guiding. I don't care if you're taking this class specifically to recreate that moment with your significant other. It will not happen here. Last semester, I had to call campus security twice.

Pottery Teacher:Ghosting is when you suddenly cut off all communication with someone you're dating. It's become quite common in modern relationships. There's also 'breadcrumbing,' where you occasionally contact them to keep them interested. And then there's the less common 'guy-on-guy ghosting,' which is absolutely hilarious.

Pottery Teacher:I have a zero tolerance policy in this class. No humming, no singing, no whistling.

Student:What if I hum by accident?

Pottery Teacher:Then you will be removed from the class.

Student:What if I hum on purpose?

Pottery Teacher:Then I will kill you.

Troy:I made clay falafel. It's not edible.

Jeff:Look at this. I made it in pottery class.

Jeff:It's a bowl.

Jeff:A perfect, symmetrical bowl.

Britta:Jeff, that's just a lump of clay with a hole in it.

Jeff:A hole in it? That's what makes it a bowl, Britta. I did the bare minimum and it still qualifies as functional pottery.

Rich:Wait, wait, wait. You're telling me you just... threw that on a wheel for the first time and created this?

Jeff:I guess I have a gift.

Rich:A gift? Jeff, this isn't a gift. This is a curse. Do you understand what you've just done? You've stumbled into a talent so rare, so extraordinary, that it will consume your entire life. You will never know peace again. Every waking moment will be consumed by clay. Your relationships will crumble like dried pottery. Your very soul will be molded by the wheel!

Abed:In a world where...

Jeff:Abed, no.

Abed:I know, I know. I do this every week.

Professor Slaughter:This is a seized drug boat.

Pierce:I've been sailing for thirty years. Lost a few passengers along the way, but that's just part of the game.

Pierce:Out of every hundred people I take out on the water, ninety-five come back alive. That's a ninety-five percent success rate!

Shirley:Oh, what a nice boat!

Professor Slaughter:NICE?! This isn't about nice, Bennett. This is about SURVIVAL. Every rivet, every seam, every plank of wood is the difference between life and death. You don't 'nice' a boat. You RESPECT it, or it will drag you to the bottom of the ocean and hold you there while the fish eat your eyes!

Britta:You know what? You're so competitive, you're actually losing your cool.

Jeff:I'm not losing my cool.

Britta:You just got upset about a board game.

Jeff:That's streets ahead!

Troy:Did you just say 'streets ahead'? That's not even a real phrase.

Jeff:It's what we said back in my day.

Troy:Your day was like five years ago, Jeff.

Chang:What? I'm fine. This happens every Tuesday.

Rich:Jeff, this pottery is absolutely beautiful. You have such talented hands. I could watch you work all day long. The way you touch the clay... it's like watching a newborn baby being cradled.

Jeff:Okay, that's... that's enough, Rich.

Britta:Yeah, that got weird.

Abed:Very weird.

Professor Slaughter:Listen up, you seamen. I know what you're thinking — yes, seamen. We're going to be the best seamen on this water. Now, I see you smirking, but a true seaman doesn't get distracted by the word seamen. You need to focus on becoming experienced seamen. The greatest seamen in history didn't worry about giggling at the word seamen. They were too busy being seamen.

Troy:Yo, Pierce, you gotta drop anchor, son. That's how you get the illest nautical cred. You feel me?

Troy:And when you're coming into port, you gotta come in hot. Real hot. That's gangsta sailing right there.

Troy:His hat flew off and landed right on that boat.

Troy:I tried to stay in character, but then I broke and was like, 'Dude, your hat is in the water.'

Troy:Then I got back into it: 'Arrr, the cap has been claimed by Davy Jones' locker!'

Pierce:Shirley, you're a terrible captain. You know what? I could do better.

Shirley:Pierce, you can't even swim!

Pierce:Well, that's not relevant to my point.

Jeff:Just because you're good at pottery doesn't mean you can heal people.

Rich:Actually, I'm a doctor.

Jeff:Rich is clearly running some kind of operation. Think about it - pottery class? That's the perfect front. You're alone with clay, your hands are full, you can't defend yourself. He's building an army of potters.

Britta:Law is way more impressive than medicine. Doctors just memorize stuff and follow procedures. Lawyers actually have to think and argue and persuade people.

Jeff:Britta, I'm a lawyer, and I can tell you that's not how any of this works.

Britta:No, think about it. A surgeon's like, 'Cut here.' But a lawyer has to convince a jury that up is down and black is white and that a murder victim technically broke into their own murderer's knife.

Abed:That's insane.

Britta:It's called rhetoric, Abed. It's the foundation of Western civilization.

Annie:He was showing me how to center the clay on the wheel, and he just casually mentions that I should really get my cholesterol checked.

Annie:Like, 'okay, so you want to apply gentle pressure here,' and then 'you might want to talk to your doctor about statins.'

Jeff:Oh wow, that's great Annie. Really great. You know what? I'm so proud of you right now I could just... I could just take you right here on this pottery wheel.

Annie:What?

Jeff:I mean... make you a pot. A really nice pot.

Rich:You're not very good at this, are you?

Jeff:Rich is clearly not who he says he is. I've done the research. Statistics show that 73% of people named Rich who wear boat shoes are actually FBI informants.

Jeff:And look at his polo shirt collection. That's not normal behavior. Studies indicate that owning more than four polos indicates deep government ties and a troubled past in the import-export business.

Jeff:Plus, his family is too perfect. Nobody's family is that functional. I'm fairly certain his parents are either witnesses in protection or have never actually loved each other.

Britta:Did you just cite a YouTube comment as a source?

Britta:You're always such a Goldblumian when you talk about yourself.

Jeff:That's not even a word, and I don't— I mean, the thing is, what you're doing right now is taking, uh, certain vocal patterns and, well, you're conflating them with a specific performative style, and that's, you know, not really accurate because—

Britta:See? Goldblumian.

Pierce:You know what you are, Shirley? You're a crabapple.

Shirley:A crabapple?

Pierce:Yeah, that's right. Sour and small and nobody wants to eat you.

Shirley:The sea does what it wants. It doesn't care about your feelings. It will destroy your boat, it will kill your friends, it will swallow your children whole. And we love it anyway. That's me as a captain.

Troy:You know what? I hope I develop multiple personalities. At least then I'd have someone to talk to.

Troy:Wait, are we actually sailing right now or is this just how you talk?

Jeff:We're in a storm, Troy. These are legitimate nautical commands.

Troy:Because 'drop anchor' and 'trim the sails' sound like things my cousin would say before a fight.

Shirley:We're gonna have to cut him loose.

Pierce:What? No! Shirley, come on!

Shirley:I'm sorry, Pierce. It's him or all of us.

Pierce:But I'm Pierce! You love Pierce!

Shirley:I do. But I love living more.

Pierce:Shirley, please! SHIRLEY!

Random Person:Reality intrudes with mundane parking complaint

Jeff:Rich, I've been going through the records, and I found something interesting. You said you were at the library on Tuesday at 3 PM, but the security footage shows—

Rich:Jeff, what are you talking about?

Jeff:I've cross-referenced your statement with the campus directory, the weather report from that day, and I've even analyzed the shadows in your Facebook photos. You're lying!

Rich:How did you—

Jeff:And furthermore, based on my 47-hour investigation, I believe you were never even planning to be at the library. You were planning to be somewhere else entirely, which means everything you've ever told me is a lie.

Pottery Teacher:Whatever you do, don't let your shirt get caught in the wheel.

Jeff:Got it.

Pottery Teacher:I'm serious. It'll wrap around and pull you in.

Jeff:I understand.

Pottery Teacher:Last year a student ignored me and—

Jeff:It won't happen.

Pottery Teacher:AHHHHHHH! YOUR SHIRT!

Jeff:You're kicking me out? This class is so easy, I've been doing it with my eyes closed. Literally. I've been napping through every lecture and I'm still getting an A. I once turned in a paper I wrote on a napkin while drunk, and the professor gave me extra credit for 'creative formatting.' This class is a joke. I'm the punchline, and the punchline is 'Jeff Winger.'

Pottery Teacher:No, no, no! That's not how you center the clay!

Pottery Teacher:You're humming... you're humming 'Unchained Melody'?

Pottery Teacher:Do you have ANY idea what that song means to me?

Pottery Teacher:That's my WORST NIGHTMARE! Ghost! Patrick Swayze! The pottery wheel!

Pottery Teacher:This is exactly what I was afraid of!

Jeff:Oh my God! Stop! Stop it! That's satanic! You're singing the devil's lullaby! Make it stop!

Rich:It's 'Unchained Melody,' Jeff.

Jeff:I don't care what it's called! It's evil! Pure evil!

Jeff:Why aren't you in sailing class?

Pierce:I got murdered for grades.

Pierce:You know, Jeffrey, let me tell you about the day you were born. Your mother was in labor for 36 hours. The doctors said they'd never seen anything like it. Finally, you came out and the entire delivery room went silent. Then one doctor looked at another and they just started laughing. They couldn't stop. The nurses had to leave the room.

Jeff:Why were they laughing?

Pierce:Because you were the ugliest baby they'd ever seen.

Pierce:Life is like a breakfast buffet. You go in with big plans, you're gonna try everything, but halfway through you realize you've made a huge mistake and you just want some toast.

Jeff:Good luck, Pierce.

Pierce:Luck? I've never had luck. I don't believe in luck. Luck is for people who don't have money.

Troy:Hey, you're drowning way better than last time!

Troy:Pierce is drowning in the parking lot again!

Abed:Again? How do you even drown in a parking lot?

Troy:I don't know, man. But this is the second time this week.

Troy:Wait, wait, wait. Guys, I have midterms next week. I can't just drop everything to rescue Pierce.

Shirley:Troy, Pierce's life is in danger!

Troy:I know, but I've been studying for weeks. My GPA is finally getting better.

Abed:So you're choosing your midterms over Pierce's life?

Troy:I'm not choosing midterms over his life. I'm just... scheduling appropriately.

Shirley:Listen up, people. We may be standing in a parking lot, but in here—

Shirley:in here we are sailors. And a true captain doesn't abandon ship when the waters get rough. A true captain stands firm, looks her crew in the eye, and says: 'We will weather this storm together.'

Shirley:Now, I don't know much about the sea. I've never even been on a boat. But I know about loyalty. I know about family. And I know that asphalt is just water if you believe hard enough.

Rich:You know what your problem is, Jeff? You're not good enough to worry about being good enough. Your mediocrity is actually liberating.

Jeff:That's not helping.

Rich:See? That's the spirit.

Rich:The brutally honest but ultimately kind assessment

Jeff:Mom, I need your advice.

Jeff's Mom:Of course, sweetheart. What is it?

Jeff:I'm not sure what to do about this situation at school.

Jeff's Mom:Well, you know I'm just a figment of your imagination, right? And frankly, I'm a pretty poorly written one. I keep saying generic mom things because that's all your subconscious could come up with.

Jeff:That's... true, actually.

Jeff's Mom:I mean, look at me. I'm basically a stock character. No real depth, inconsistent motivation, probably won't even remember this conversation in five minutes.

Jeff's Mom:Jeffrey, this is supposed to be a bowl? It looks like something the cat wouldn't even use.

Jeff's Mom:And in your fantasy, you're still making garbage.

Rich:My mom always said I should pursue my pottery.

Rich's Mom (imaginary):Your brother would have been so proud of your pottery, Richard. Too bad he's dead and will never see it.

Rich:Thanks, Mom.