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His ears if we're lucky! | Flanders! You gotta help me! |
You are on a quest for knowledge. | Who said that? |
Fear not, Homer. I am your spirit guide. | Hiya. |
There is a lesson you must learn. | If it's about laying off the insanity peppers, I'm way ahead of you. |
No, I speak of a deeper wisdom. The problem, Homer, is that the mind is always chattering away, with a thousand thoughts at once. | Yeah, that's me all right. |
Clarity is the path to inner peace. | But what should I do? Should I meditate? Should I get rid of all my possessions? |
Are you kidding? If anything, you should get more possessions. You don't even have a computer! | You know, I have been meaning to take a spiritual journey, and I would -- Hey!! |
Sorry. I am a coyote... | Look, just gimme some inner peace, or I'll mop the floor with ya. |
Good. Your mind is in a state of readiness. So listen well: To make yourself complete, you must find your soul mate. | Soul mate? |
Your kindred spirit. The one with whom you share an unspoken bond... a profound, mystical understanding. | That's it? Well, that's Marge. Big deal. Great spiritual quest, wolfie. My soul mate is Marge. |
Is it? | Hey, wait! Come back!... |
Is it? | A ghost train! And so little time to get out of the way!... Now less!... Now none! |
Hey, get off the course, you bum! Security! | Wha? Golf course? Did I dream that whole thing? Maybe the desert was just this sand trap... Oh, and I bet that crazy pyramid was just the Pro Shop! |
Hey, get off the course, you bum! Security! | Carl? |
Hey, get off the course, you bum! Security! | And that talking coyote was really just a talking dog. |
Hi, Homer. Find your soul mate. | Hey, wait a minute. There's no such thing as a talking dog. |
So then I says to Mabel, I says... | Hi, kids. |
I'll finish this later. Hi, Dad. | Where's your mother? |
So anyway, I says to Mabel, I says... | Hi, honey. |
So anyway, I says to Mabel, I says... | Uh-oh. I guess you're cranky because I didn't come home last night... |
I'm "cranky" because my husband got drunk and humiliated me in front of the entire town. You broke your promise, Homer. | Oh, honey, I didn't get drunk. I just went to a strange fantasy world. C'mon, you gotta believe me. You're my soul mate. |
Don't "soul mate" me! | Okay. |
Don't "soul mate" me! | That coyote said my soul mate would understand me, but Marge doesn't understand me at all. Maybe we're not kindred spirits. We don't have anything in common... |
Don't "soul mate" me! | Look at these records! Jim Nabors, Glen Campbell, the Doodletown Pipers! Now look at her records... They stink! Maybe I had that crazy dream for a reason... |
Don't "soul mate" me! | Wherever my soul mate is, it's not here. |
Don't "soul mate" me! | ...I always just figured my wife was my soul mate. But if it's not Marge, then who is it? Where do I begin looking? |
Okay, but I'm not your soul mate. I'm really more of a chum. | Well what about you, Lenny? |
Find your soul mate, Homer. Find your soul mate. | Where? Where?! |
Either that or Batman has really let himself go. | Alone! I'm alone! I'm a lonely, insignificant speck on a has-been planet orbited by a cold, indifferent sun! |
Either that or Batman has really let himself go. | A ship! A ship with people! I know... I'll bring them to me! And then they'll have to be my friends! |
Either that or Batman has really let himself go. | Come here, people! |
Aye... the hotpants. | Well, I won't be lonely for long.... |
Oh, Homer, thank goodness you're safe! | Marge? |
I woke up and you weren't there, and I was so worried... | Really? You were? But how did you find me? |
Well, I was sure you'd be on foot, because you always say public transportation is for losers. And I was sure you'd head west, because Springfield slopes down that way. And then I saw the lighthouse, and I remembered how you love blinking lights... like the one on the waffle iron... | Or that little guy on the "Don't Walk" sign. |
Yeah. | Wow, Marge, you really do understand me. See, I thought we weren't soul mates because... |
...we had a fight? | Right, and we don't like the same things. It's like you're from Venus... |
...and you're from Mars. | Oh, sure. Give me the one with all the monsters. |
Homer, don't you see? Our differences are only skin-deep... | ...But our sames go right down to the bone. Maybe we do have a... |
...a profound mystical understanding? | Hey... we do! Oh, Marge! |
...a profound mystical understanding? | We're number one! We're number one! In your face, space coyote! |
Space coyote? | Omigod! The ship! |
We'll all be killed! | The light! We gotta get the light back on! |
We did it! | We sure did... soul mate. |
But Homer, it's ten in the morning. | Don't worry, I have a plan. I saw this in a movie about a bus that had to speed around a city, keeping its speed over fifty, and if its speed dropped, it would explode. I think it was called "The Bus That Couldn't Slow Down." First, I hook this common VCR into the security camera system like so... |
But Homer, it's ten in the morning. | Then, I insert this old videotape of us working on a continuous loop... |
Another Duff, Homer? | Nah, it's Friday night Moe. I wanna try something special. |
Uh, here you go. Düff. From Sweden. | Skoal! Wait a minute -- this is Duff! |
Ah, ha ha, you got me, didn't ya? All right, here you go -- "Red Tick Beer." | Hmm, bold -- refreshing... and something I can't quite put my finger on. |
Just a second, Homer, you gotta take a breathalyzer test before I let you drive home. | Eh, I guess I'll walk home. |
Oh, son, I'm glad to see ya. I went for the morning paper and I got lost, and... | No time for you, old man! |
Aww. | Please, don't hurt me! |
Don't be afraid. | Yaaaa... |
Don't be afraid. | Uh! |
Homer, it's two a.m.! What happened? | It was an alien, Marge! It appeared in front of me and said, "Don't be afraid!" |
Have you been drinking? | No! Well, ten beers... |
Maybe you just dreamed it. | Oh, yeah? Well, when I came to, I was covered with a sticky translucent goo! Explain that! |
Dad, according to "Junior Skeptic Magazine" the chances are a hundred seventy-five million-to-one of another form of life actually coming in contact with ours. | So? |
I am the thing from Uranus! | Oh. It's Bart. I can't believe it. I'm being mocked... by my own children... on my birthday! |
It's your birthday? | Yes. Remember, it's the same day as the dog's? |
Good doggy. Good doggy! | Lousy loveable dog. |
Well, your story is very compelling, Mr. Jackass... I mean, uh, Simpson. So I'll just type it up on my invisible typewriter. | You don't have to humiliate me. |
Yo! | No, I'm sorry. |
Now we're going to run a few tests. This is a simple lie-detector. I'll ask you a few yes-or-no questions and you just answer truthfully. Do you understand? | Yes. |
All right, Homer. We want you to recreate your every move the night you saw this alien. | Well, the evening began at the Gentleman's Club, where we were discussing Wittgenstein over a game of backgammon. |
Mr. Simpson, it's a felony to lie to the FBI. | We were sitting in Barney's car eating packets of mustard. Ya happy? |
Mr. Simpson, it's a felony to lie to the FBI. | You are one fine-lookin' woman, lady. If I wasn't married, I'd go out with you like that. |
I don't believe you, Homer. | You do?! Oh, Marge, you've made me so happy! |
You're not listening. You're only hearing what you want to hear. | Thanks! I'd love an omelet right about now. |
Homer, please! I try to be supportive, but this has gone too far. Please just let it be. | No, I can't. This is my cause. I'm like the man who single-handedly built the rocket and went to the moon. What was his name? Apollo Creed? |
Please, let's just go to sleep. | No, I refuse to share a bed with someone who thinks I'm crazy. Unless you're feeling... amorous? |
No, I'm not. | Well then, good night! |
Hey, Dad. What's the word from Planet Crackpot? | Oh, I suppose you're going to mock me, too. |
Well, actually, Dad... I believe you. | You do? |
Yes, I do. You seem so damn sure. | Thank you, son. And do you think you could stop the casual swearing? |
Hell, yes. | That's my boy. Well, if you believe in me, then I'm not going to give up. I'll prove I'm right. This Friday we're going back to the woods, and we're going to find that alien! |
What if we don't? | We'll fake it and sell it to the Fox network. |
They'll buy anything! | Now son, they do a lot of quality programming, too. |
They'll buy anything! | I kill me. |
Yo, Dad, can I have a sip of your beer? | Now, son, you don't want to drink beer. That's for Daddies, and kids with fake IDs... besides, it's such a beautiful night. How about a ghost story? |
And that is how much college will cost for Maggie! | No! No! No-o-o-o-o! |
You know, Dad, it doesn't matter that we didn't see the alien. I've really had a great time out here. | Yeah, me too. |
You know, Dad, it doesn't matter that we didn't see the alien. I've really had a great time out here. | It's him! |
I bring you peace. | As a representative of planet earth, let me be the first to say... |
I bring you peace. | Bwah! Bwah! Bwaaaaah! |
I bring you peace. | It's gone. And we still don't have any proof. |
Oh yes we do! I got it all on tape. | Good work, son! We did it! We did it! |
I think there must be a more logical explanation. And I think the people of this town aren't gonna be won over by three seconds of videotape. | Uh, I'm happy to answer any questions you have about the alien. Any questions at all. Doctor Hibbert? |
Is the alien Santa Claus? | Uh, yes. |
Uh, were you on my roof last night, stealing my weathervane? | This interview is over! |
Surprise me! | Take a look at this, Lisa. You don't see any "Homer is a Dope" T-shirts, do you? |
We sold those out in five minutes. | Marge! How could you? |
These shirts are a hundred per cent cotton! And look at the fine stitching on "Dope!" | I'll take two! |
These shirts are a hundred per cent cotton! And look at the fine stitching on "Dope!" | Look! There it is! |
Well, you said you'd bring them peace and love and it looks like you did it. I'm proud of you, Homie. | Thanks, Marge. |
...and then they gave me back my 500 dollar investment and kicked me out of the club. | Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait -- back up a bit now. When are the pancakes coming in the mail? |
Well, maybe it's all for the best... | What do you need to make money for anyway? As long as I have my earning power, this family's got nothing to worry about. |
Well, maybe it's all for the best... | Ow! Oh! Call work and tell 'em I won't be in tomorrow. |
Well, that's the miracle of the franchise. You get all the equipment and know-how you need, plus a familiar brand name people trust. You'll be on a rocket ride to the moon. And while you're there, would you pick up some of that nice green moon money for me, Royce McCutcheon. | No deal, McCutcheon. That moon money is mine! |
Marge. | Oh yeah. |
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