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Mr. Simpson, I don't think he likes that. | Of course he does. He's a cute little piggy. Curly, straight, curly, straight, curly... |
Mr. Simpson, I don't think he likes that. | Ow! Why you little... |
Huh, I can't believe that worked. | Hey, that's not the wallet inspector. |
It's bad enough they put their retainers in the dishwasher -- Can't we do something? | Look, I'm sure we can work something out where we can all live in harmony. Right, Marge? |
You really think you can get us back into college? | Absolutely. Now the only antidote to a zany scheme is an even zanier scheme. |
Why does it have to be zany? | I got it! We're gonna fix it so you guys save the dean's life. |
Prank? | And all those other pranks were my idea too. I'm the one who should be expelled. |
Well, I'm touched by your honesty. And who knows, perhaps I've been a bit of an ogre myself. | Yes, you have. |
We really want to thank you, Mr. Simpson. | No problem, guys. The important thing is that we wrapped up all the loose ends. |
So, in conclusion, good luck on tomorrow's big final exam. | Exam?!? Oh, this is just like one of those bad dreams. |
What are you gonna do Mr. Simpson? | Actually, I've been working on a plan. During the exam, I'll hide under some coats and hope that somehow everything will work out. |
Or, with our help you could cram like you've never crammed before. | Whatever. Either way is good... |
Aw, man, I can't believe you failed. | I'm gonna lose my job just 'cause I'm dangerously unqualified. |
Mr. Simpson, there is a way. We could... well, use a computer to change your grade. | Computers can do that? |
Oh yes. The only problem is the moral dilemma it raises... which requires... | Mora wuza? |
An "A plus"! How did you do it? | Oh, let's just say I had help from a "little magic box..." |
Way to go, dad! | Look, the important thing is that we all learned a lesson. These guys learned the richness and variety of the world outside college. |
No we didn't. | Oh. Then I learned the real value of college is to study and work hard. |
No you didn't. You only passed your course by cheating, which you always taught us was wrong. | Hmmm, true. |
And I learned that in order for you to set a good example for your son, you're gonna take that course over again without cheating. | Oh, Marge. You're worse than that crusty old dean. |
And I learned that in order for you to set a good example for your son, you're gonna take that course over again without cheating. | Well, I guess it's back to college for me. And that means it's time to... What did I teach you guys? |
Par-ty down? | Yes. |
What? Homie! | Oh no! Burns' Birthday! |
What's wrong? | Every time Mr. Burns has a birthday all his employees have to help out at the party. And I always get some terrible job. |
Where is that dreaded piñata? | Ow. Ow. Ow. Missed me. Ow! |
What are you doin'? | I'm writing a delicious send up of Mr. Burns for his birthday party. Is poo poo one word or two? |
Actually, Mom, a tweaking of Mr. Burns' foibles if done with the greatest of care could earn Dad a special place in the old man's heart. | Well, I also do a delightful impression of him. I paint a frownie face on my butt and pull down my pants. |
Int. Simpson home - that night) | Now I'm not saying Mr. Burns is incontinent... |
Does either of you know what incontinent means? | Lisa, don't spoil our fun! |
Come on dear. It's time to go. | Okay, stupid! |
Homer! You've got to stop insulting everyone, especially your boss. | Marge, the comedy roast is an American tradition. It's what gives us the freedom to criticize our social betters. Hey Flanders, you smell like Manure! |
And now it's time for the comedy stylings of Homer Simpson! | Are you ready to laugh? |
Oh... That poor dog. | I said are you ready to laugh?! |
Quiet, you awful man! | You know, Mr. Burns is so cheap... |
What! | I mean... you know... Mr. Burns... is so... old... |
How dare you! | Oooh, tough crowd. Better bring out the big guns. Here's an impression of Mr. Burns that you might find... a little cheeky. |
How dare you! | I'm Mr. Burns. Blah, blah, blah. Do this. Do that. Blah, blah, blah. |
How dare you! | I think I'm so big. Blah, blah, blah. |
Destroy him. | Blah, bla... |
Destroy him. | Unghhhh! |
Yes'm. Dad, I know you're discouraged, but please don't deny the world your fat can. | Don't worry, boy. He'll be ready for your Aunt Selma's birthday. |
It could be right in front of your face as I'm saying this, waggling back and forth, perhaps being held up by a loved one. | Maggie, I'm trying to watch TV. Put that moldy old bear down. |
It could be right in front of your face as I'm saying this, waggling back and forth, perhaps being held up by a loved one. | Moldy!?! Old!?!... I'm gonna get something to eat! |
"Bobo". It's Mr. Burns' bear all right. | Well, Burns isn't gettin' this back cheap, I'll tell you that. He's going to have to give me... my own recording studio. |
"Bobo". It's Mr. Burns' bear all right. | Two all-beef patties, special sauce lettuce cheese pickles onions on a sesame seed bun... |
No. Let's send Burns the eye in the mail. He'll pay more money if he thinks the bear is in danger. | Yes. We'll send the eye. |
As you can see, this old place is falling apart. But I'm sure we can come to an understanding. | Yes sir. Reject the first offer. Reject the first offer. |
May I offer you a drink? | Sorry, Burns. No deal. |
Done. Now, give me that bear. | Woo hoo! I'm rich! Rich I tells ya. Here you go. |
Done. Now, give me that bear. | It seems to be stuck. Bad baby! Bad Maggie! |
You've made a mistake, Simpson. | Ah, big deal. Who needs his money? We're gettin' by okay. |
Yes. | Hmmm. Sixty-four slices of American cheese. |
Yes. | Sixty four... sixty three... |
Have you been up all night eating cheese? | I think I'm blind. |
Excuse me wanted to see the guy who valued the happiness of his children over money. | Right here. |
Aw, you said his head was the size of a baseball. | My life can't get any worse. |
Homer Simpson, report for much worse duties. | After lunch can I whip you? |
Homer Simpson, report for much worse duties. | Maggie, I know you like the bear... but wouldn't you be just as happy playing with... this box! |
Homer Simpson, report for much worse duties. | See Maggie? See the fun box! Do do do do doo do... |
Homer Simpson, report for much worse duties. | Do do do do doo... |
Homer Simpson, report for much worse duties. | No! My box! My box! |
I don't hate you, I'm proud of you. You came through for your daughter when she needed you the most. | Aw thanks, Marge. But it'll take a lot more than that to comfort this tortured soul. |
I don't hate you, I'm proud of you. You came through for your daughter when she needed you the most. | Box... |
TWO PLUS TWO IS FOUR / TWO PLUS TWO IS FOUR.... / TWO PLUS TWO IS FOUR.... | I can see why this is so popular. |
What's that you say? You can live without television as long as you have beer? | That's right. |
Homer, give him what he wants. | Oh, Barney, leave me alone. |
Is it my imagination or is TV getting worse? | Eh, it's about the same. Uh-oh! Look out, Smithers! |
Is it my imagination or is TV getting worse? | I love this show |
Is it my imagination or is TV getting worse? | Well well, look whose come to apologize. |
Please... please. | But Mr. Burns, it's not my bear. It's Maggie's. |
Eh, don't worry, I'm sure I'll remember it. | Well, we didn't get any money, but Mr. Burns got what he wanted. Marge, I'm confused. Is this a happy ending or a sad ending? |
And next in our fall catalogue: we love this, it is a vision in raspberry cream. | Oooh, pure genius... |
And next in our fall catalogue: we love this, it is a vision in raspberry cream. | Oh. Pure genius. And now to make the leap from dreams to reality. |
Int. POWER PLANT - HOMER'S WORKSTATION - a little later) | All right. Stay calm. Remember your training. |
Int. POWER PLANT - HOMER'S WORKSTATION - a little later) | Dear Homer, I.O.U. one emergency donut. Signed, Homer. Bastard. He's always one step ahead. Oh, I'd sell my soul for a donut! |
Well, that can be arranged. | Flanders! You're the devil? |
It's always the one you least suspect! Now many people offer to sell their souls without reflecting upon the grave ramifica... | Do you have a donut or not? |
Now remember: the instant you finish it, I own your soul for -- | Hey, wait. If I don't finish this last bite, you don't get my soul, do you? |
Technically no, but -- | I'm smarter than the de-vil! I'm smarter than the dev- |
You are not smarter than me! I'll see you in Hell yet, Homer Simpson! | Not likely. Heh, heh. |
Homer?! Did you eat that donut? | No. |
Oh you Americans with your due process and fair trials. This is always so much easier in Mexico. All right. Very well. We'll have the trial tomorrow at the stroke of midnight. 'Til then, you're going to spend the day in hell. | Eh, that wasn't so bad. |
So, you like donuts, eh? | Uh, huh. |
Well! Have all the donuts in the world!! | More. Mmmm. |
Homer! Are you all right? | No. |
No. | Woo hoo! Ow! |
Homer, stop picking at it. | But I'm so sweet and tasty. Well, time to go to work. |
Lisa, your brother's obviously had a nightmare. Don't worry, honey, the scary part's over. | Marge, look at all this great stuff I found at the marina! It was just sitting in some guy's boat! |
We come now to the final and most terrifying painting of the evening. To even gaze upon it is to go mad. | They're dogs! And they're playing poker! |
A vampire! | Heh-heh-HEH. Lisa, vampires are make-believe. Just like elves, gremlins and Eskimos. |
Precious blood. | Hmmm... business deal. |
Lisa, stop being so suspicious. Did everyone wash their necks like Mr. Burns asked? | Sure did. |
Dad, do you notice anything strange? | Yeah, his hairdo looks so queer. |
I heard that! | It was the boy! |
I heard that! | Huh, ooooh, punch! |
Eww, Dad, this is blood. | Correction. Free blood. |
Eww, Dad, this is blood. | Ahhh. |
Hello, Mother. Hello, Father. I missed you during my uneventful absence. | Oh, Lisa, you and your stories. Bart is a vampire, beer kills brain cells. Now let's go back to that... building... thingee... where our beds and TV... is. |
Lisa, it's not like you have a choice here. | Bart! How many times have I told you not to bite your sist... Wait a minute! You are a vampire. |
The only way to get Bart back is to kill the head vampire, Mr. Burns. | Kill my boss? Do I dare live out the American Dream? |
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