♪ The Simpsons ♪
-(chalk screeches) -(bell rings)
(work whistle blows)
-(sucking) -(register beeping)
(jazzy solo)
(tires screech)
(tires screeching)
(horn honks)
(tires screech)
-Aah! -(tires screech)
(dog whining and scratching)
(barking)
(growling)
No. No!
No! Bad dog!
Let go!
Bad Santa's Little Helper!
Stop it! Not the sports section!
D'oh!
(whining)
(Homer growling)
Stupid dog.
(dog sniffing)
No! Stay away.
This is not for you.
This is Homer food.
(jabbering)
Time to get up, Lisa.
It's a school day.
(groaning)
Hmm, Lisa, you don't look well.
I'll make it, Mom.
Just tape my lunch box to my hand.
Oh, my, you're burning up
and your cheeks are so swollen.
(gasps) I think you have the mumps.
I'm calling Dr. Hibbert.
HOMER: Marge, the dog is hungry.
Well, then feed him.
Yes, master.
D'oh!
DOLL: You're my best friend. (laughing)
You're my best friend. (laughing)
(jabbering, laughing)
You're my best friend. (voice warbles)
(growling)
Hello, Dr. Hibbert?
This is Marge Simpson.
Not that I'm angry,
but how did you get my home number?
(chuckles) I see. Quite ingenious.
Doctor, I think Lisa has the mumps.
(chuckles) Mrs. Simpson, much as I'd like to rely on your diagnosis
I think it might be professionally derelict of me to do so.
Let me check my schedule.
Mm-hmm, mm-hmm, 2:00 is fine. Thank you, Dr. Hibbert.
No way! She's faking!
If Lisa stays home, I stay home.
If Bart stays home, I'm going to school.
Fine. Then...
Wait a minute. If Lisa goes to school,
then I go to school.
But then Lisa stays home,
so I stay home, so Lisa goes to school.
Lisa, don't confuse your brother like that.
Have a nice day at school, Bart.
Get my homework from Mrs. Hoover.
Homework?
Lisa, you wasted chicken pox.
Don't waste the mumps.
(school bus approaching)
(horn honks)
(whining)
Hey, Bart dude.
Hey, Otto man.
Yo, hairy bro.
Go home, boy.
Go home.
Blah-blah-blah, blah, blah.
(whining)
(sniffing)
(crunching)
(bell rings)
(bell dings)
You wandering mongrel.
Get out of my mom-and-pop operation.
(barking)
(squawking)
-(ring) -Hello?
Simpson? This is Sylvia Winfield.
That canine of yours is in my pool again.
I'm calling the dog warden right now!
Oh, are you?
Well, you go ahead and call your precious dog warden,
you old battle-ax,
because my dog is tied up in the backyard.
There's only one family on this block--
no, on Earth--
inconsiderate enough to let a monster like that roam free.
D'oh!
Are you losing your hearing, or are you just stupid?
I am going to explain this to you one more time,
and then I'm going to hang up on you.
It is not my dog!
I tied my dog outside myself!
I am looking at him right-- D'oh!
Well, howdly-do, Simpson. Getting a little exercise, huh?
Good for you, pal.
Oh, look at this old rascal.
He's a wet old baby boy, isn't he?
You're just a water monster.
Well, well. Mr. Universe takes a walk. Ha ha.
(chuckles) Mr. Universe-- I wish.
Look at that getup. Heavy hands, ankle weights--
that's cute-- and...
(gasp) Assassins!
Oh, you betcha. You know, they got the Velcro straps,
a water pump in the tongue, built-in pedometer,
reflective sidewalls, and little vanity license plates.
Ohh! Ohh! How much? How much? How much?
Well, you know, they're not giving them away,
but sometimes you've just got to spoil yourself.
-Yeah. -(beeping)
Oop. My heart rate's dropping.
Better skedaddly-do.
LISA: Ahh.
HIBBERT: Mm-hmm.
Discoloration of the saliva glands...
MARGE: Oh, dear.
Swelling of the parotids...
I knew it.
Yeah, looks like little Lisa has the mumps.
I guess you'll be missing a week of school, young lady.
Oh no. I don't want to fall behind my class.
(laughing)
Oh, such responsibility for such a little girl.
What's your favorite subject?
-Arithmetic. -Oh ho, ho, ho...
Arithmetic. Now before you know it, you'll be back among
your polygons, your hypotenuse, and your Euclidean algorithms.
Now you get rest and have yourself a wahwee pop.
(phone ringing)
Yello?
Hi, Lisa. What's wrong?
The mumps?
Ooh, the kissing disease.
(chuckles) My little girl is growing up.
(laughing)
Yuck. Quit it, Dad.
So what does my little girl want?
What? Let me write this down.
Copies of "Teen Dream,"
"Teen Scream,"
and "Teen Steam" magazine?
Well, okay, you're the sickie. Good-bye, Lisa.
Hey, Lenny, I need to leave early. Cover for me, will ya?
Hey, sure thing, Homer.
(contented sigh)
(smacking)
Well, Lisa, here it is--
the Bouvier family quilt.
(sniffing)
Wow! Neat! It smells historic.
(gasps) Ooh.
For five generations
women in our family have each added a square to it.
Now it's your turn.
LISA: Oh. But I don't know how to sew.
Oh, yes, you do. You just don't know it.
The memory of a million drop stitches
flows in your veins.
-Ah. -Very impressive.
-You try it. -Oww!
You just need to develop a callous.
(humming tune)
You see?
Now that's a sewing finger, honey.
Eww.
Oh, man. Two dollars?
Uh, I'll take these three.
-Hmm. -They're for my daughter.
Sure they are.
Wise guy.
Huh?
Oh.
(gasps) Assassins!
Oh... 125 bucks?
Sometimes you got to spoil yourself...
spoil yourself... spoil yourself...
But I can't afford--
Simpson! I order you to buy those shoes!
Okay, Flanders, you're the boss.
MARGE: This one's mine.
"Keep On Truckin'"? What does that mean?
MARGE: I didn't know then and I don't know now.
Here's your stupid homework.
Ooh, phonics, functions, vocabulary...
remedial reading?
Oh, do your own homework, Bart.
-D'oh! -Here's your magazines.
How many of these guys are named Corey?
Eight. Thanks, Dad.
-Whoa! Assassins! -Yep, read 'em and weep.
Those are very elaborate sneakers.
They better be for 125 big ones.
-D'oh! -$125?
-Bart! -Ahh!
-Homer! -D'oh!
I thought we agreed
to consult each other before any major purchases.
Well, you bought all those smoke alarms
-and we haven't had a single fire. -(growls)
A manhunt-- or should I say a woman hunt-- is on...
You know, Joe, yours is the only show I'll do.
♪♪ (jingle music playing)
As an actor, my eyeballs need to look their whitest.
♪♪ (jingle music playing)
It's a penalty kick for--
(whining)
(screaming)
(gasping, whimpering)
Shoe lace...
(Homer whimpering)
-No! -(howling)
(dogs barking)
(whimpering)
Well, Homer, there seems to be
a lot of good obedience schools here.
Oh, school, right. Yeah, that's your answer for everything.
MARGE: Hmm.
Oh.
(groaning)
Oh, this one looks very reputable.
-(barking) -(blows dog whistle)
(thick British accent) What lovely handwriting. Have a toffee.
Such a neat dog. Have at them.
Well done.
Oh! Aww...
Now, if I could borrow Satan's Little Helper.
Santa's Little Helper.
Ladies and gentlemen, most of you already know
that with a little love and compassion,
any puppy will grow up to be a cuddly little bundle of joy.
Stuff and nonsense taught by charlatans
and learned by bloody twits.
Let me tell you the two most important words
you will ever hear in your life.
Choke chain.
You raise a dog the same way you would raise a child:
with simple, authoritative commands.
Lay down!
-Followed by immediate correction. -(yelps)
How can we tell if we're doing this maneuver effectively?
The dog's eyes will cross, and his tongue will protrude
and change color, ever so slightly.
Is my dog dead, ma'am?
Ha ha! You don't know how often I am asked that.
Choke chain is a misnomer.
Trust me, they are always breathing.
WOMAN (on TV): Jack, I think the baby might be yours.
Oh, I'm sure it is, doll face,
but I'd like to see you prove it.
-You treat me like garbage. -(laughing)
That's because that's the way you love it, baby.
Gee, is it always this good?
Mmm, I don't know. I just step in and out.
I'm only watching today
because Brandy is coming out of her coma
and she knows the phony prince's body is hidden in the boathouse.
-(barking and screeching) -Oh, that dog!
Bad dog!
Don't worry, Snowball.
Blah, blah, blah, blah.
(cat screeches)
Mom, what will we do if Santa's Little Helper
doesn't learn anything in obedience school?
I don't know.
Father McGrath, I thought you were dead.
I was.
♪♪
There are two ways for a dog to relieve himself:
One is like a faithful friend and partner for life.
The other is like a hose without a fireman.
Which way do you think that was, Mr. Simpson?
Like a hose, your wrinkled highness.
Hyah!
Uh, I changed my mind. I decided I don't want these shoes.
Hey, wait a minute. What happened here?
Well, my faithful dog was bringing me my shoes
and they fell apart in his mouth.
I'm sorry, sir. Our warranty doesn't cover
fire, theft or acts of dog.
(gasps) Big cookie!
-Aloha. -Well, aloha.
-Would you like a free sample? -The price is right.
Mmm. Ooh. Macamacdamia nuts.
If you'd like to buy some, they're only a dollar each.
Oh, so that's your little plan.
Get us addicted, then jack up the price.
Well, you win.
Property of...
Hom-er...
J....
Simps-on.
Hands off!
(snarling)
Look, Mom, I finished my patch.
It depicts the two greatest
musical influences in my life. (coughing)
On the left is Mr. Largo, my music teacher at school.
He taught me that even the noblest concerto
can be drained of its beauty and soul.
And on the right is "Bleeding Gums" Murphy.
He taught me that music is like a fire in your belly
that comes out of your mouth
so you better stick an instrument in front of it.
-Hmm... -And look.
-Oh. -Oh.
(lapping up water)
♪♪ (spooky music)
(growling)
Come on, Homer.
I want you to see what your sick little girl did.
(screaming)
My quilt!
Six generations, ruined! (crying)
Now, Marge. Honey, honey, honey.
Come on. Come on. Don't get upset.
It's not the end of the world.
We all loved that quilt, but you can't get too attached to--
(screams) My cookie!
(sobbing)
This is not happening. This is not happening!
Everybody in the kitchen! We're having a family meeting.
We never had a family meeting before.
We never had a problem
with a family member we can give away before.
MARGE: Homer, what are you saying?
I'm saying...
(jabbering)
No way! You can't give my dog away.
I'll set fire to my hair. I'll rip up all my clothes.
-I'll put sugar in the gas tank. -Bart!
I've suffered as much as anyone
at the paws of this dog.
But when I look into his vacant brown eyes,
I just can't bear to let him go.
I'm sure Mom agrees with me.
No, I'm afraid I agree with your father.
You do?
♪ Ha ha ha ha ha! ♪
Homer, please. It's not just the quilt.
He's a nice dog, but he chews up everything.
He doesn't obey. He's not even housebroken,
and we've spent all this money on an obedience school,
and I don't see any improvement.
Alright, alright. If Santa's Little Helper
studies real hard, and passes his finals
and becomes a perfect dog,
-can we keep him then? -No!
-Dad! -This is our pet.
We can question his integrity and disposition,
but we can't question his heart.
Are you trying to teach us that the way to solve a problem
with something you love is to throw it away?
(crying) Oh, Lisa.
If they're ever going to pull the plug on me,
I want you in my corner, honey.
Oh, all right.
If he passes obedience school, we can keep him.
-All right. -Yay.
(coughs)
BART: See, boy, it's not so hard.
Here, roll over. Roll over!
Like this.
Congratulations, Sonny.
You've earned a toffee.
Oh, thank you.
(quietly) You moldy old maid.
Homer, can't we place this ad
after the dog fails his test?
No. We have to commit ourselves.
Now take this down.
Free to loving home, world's most brilliant dog.
Says "I love you" on command.
-(grumbling) -Type, type.
Now!
Sit!
I said, "sit."
Um, take a walk. Sniff that other dog's butt.
See? He does exactly what I tell him.
HOMER: Oh, no. We'd never give him away
but we're moving to another country where dogs are forbidden.
You're what?
Oh, sure.
Come here, boy.
Put that prowler down. Come here. Come on, boy.
(panting)
Say it, boy. Say "I love you" for the nice man.
(panting) I ruv ru.
Good dog!
Good doggie.
Isn't that amazing?
See you soon. Woo-hoo!
A lot of you think your dogs have mastered the "stay" command.
Let's see if they can "stay" away from this Beef Wellington.
Now, stay.
(panting)
Stay, boy! Stay! Stay!
Stay!
(chomping)
Oh, he'd be very happy at my farm.
People think only mules can pull carts.
Impatient people think that.
-But patient people know better. -(yelps)
HOMER: He can pick him up tomorrow.
Mrs. Winthrop, I was thinking.
-Ah! Oh! -Oh, dear.
Since you get paid either way, would it be a big deal
to just let my dog pass?
I see. Rubber stamp, thank you very much, next in line.
-Is that it? -Yeah.
Heavens to murgatroid. But!
Perhaps I cling to the old ways like a well-chewed shoe,
as the traditions I was weaned on are put to sleep
or neutered one by one.
But my time has not passed yet!
The world does not need another college graduate
who doesn't know how to sit!
He'll sit, he'll sit.
Come on, boy, sit.
Sit.
Blah-blah, blah-blah.
-Pull the chain. -Huh?
-Correct the dog. -I don't wanna strangle my dog.
Pull the bloody chain, boy!
(yelping)
(whimpering)
I'm sorry, boy. You can't help being dumb.
Hmm, what are you doing, dear?
Sewing a new quilt.
You know, it's one thing to be a link in a chain.
It's another to start one of your own.
Aw...
This patch commemorates
the destruction of the old quilt.
Well, you certainly captured the moment. Mwah!
Come on, boy.
Sit.
Sit... sit...
Sit! Oh, come on, sit!
Oh, man.
Bart, he's not going to learn it now.
Don't spend your last hours together
tormenting the poor creature.
Have some fun. Frolic with him.
Go get it, boy!
(sighs)
-(growling) -(growling)
I'm gonna miss you, boy.
I thought we were going to be pals forever.
But we're going to have to say good-bye,
because you don't understand a single word I say.
If you just knew how important it was to learn...
blah blah sit.
Wait a minute, you did it.
Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.
Lay down.
Shake hands?
Stay.
-Speak. -(barks)
All right! Good boy!
Roll over.
You son of a bitch.
Good show!
(cheering)
Alright. Yay.
♪♪
Shh!
CAPTIONS ENHANCED BY ROUNDABOUT ENTERTAINMENT INC.