(theme music playing)
CHORUS: ♪ The Simpsons ♪
(bell ringing)
(whistle blows)
(beeping)
(playing the blues)
(tires screeching)
(honking)
(tires screeching)
D'oh! (screams)
(tires screeching)
(screams)
(whistling)
(shrieks)
(laughs)
(shrieks)
(laughs)
Cool.
(Homer shrieking)
Hmm.
(Homer shrieking to the tune of "Mary Had a Little Lamb")
(laughs)
Stop that! And get ready.
We're going to the old folks' talent show.
Now, get washed up.
With pleasure.
(Homer shrieking Beethoven's Fifth Symphony)
(all laughing)
You ever notice that after dialysis
you always get the munchies?
(all laughing)
He's saying the stuff we all forgot.
And you know what I can't open?
Cabinets.
Can he say that?
You know what else scares me?
Everything.
("Sabre Dance" playing)
Get that one.
Faster! You gotta have time for the other ones.
Oh, good.
Oh, no, that one's slowing down!
Oh, good.
Oh, that one's wobbling!
Got that before I even said it.
♪ What's new, pussycat? ♪
-(bones cracking) -♪ Ow-ow-ow-ow ♪
♪ What's new, pussycat? ♪
♪ Ow, God, no! ♪
Wasn't he great, folks?
Now, all the the contestants are going to receive
extra servings of honey mush.
But there can only be one winner
and, uh, since Abe's already standing here, what the heck?
Wow! A free auto.
No, keep reading.
GRAMPA SIMPSON: Oh.
Hey, let's get this down to the funeral home
before they try to back out.
Hmm.
Well, this autopsy coupon appears to be valid.
What other funerary services may we provide
for the pre-deceased?
Oh, the whole deal. Coffin, tombstone, anti-stink spray.
Sir, we prefer the term "casket" to "coffin"
and "monument" to "tombstone."
We have all the leading brands of anti-stink spray.
HOMER (chuckles): What funny names.
(imitating speeding car)
He's heading into Dead Man's Curve!
Aah! Get me out of here!
(chuckling)
Oh, the living.
Well, fortunately, this model features
the "CadavaCam."
(grunting)
(chuckles)
Look at him go.
That thing got picture-in-picture?
Of course. This is the "Contempo."
Aw, geez.
How come they never call traveling anymore?
This is the deluxe area.
The caskets are buried in unused virgin graves
the monuments are completely self-cleaning
and there is an optional "weeping widow" service.
(sobbing) Wally! Wally! Wally!
Irving! Oh, Irving!
Oh, bury me over here! Please?
Whoa, whoa.
This is getting kind of pricey.
Sir, what lies beyond this life is a mystery,
but we do know for sure that God prefers people
who travel in style.
Hear that?
If you cheapskate me into hell
I'll haunt you good.
Imagine this when you're sitting on the john.
(mumbling)
OK!
(typewriter keys clacking)
OK, with mole insurance, you total comes to $17,000.
What? Oh!
Or you could just toss him in the woods
and let the wolves carry him off.
It's really up to you.
Mr. Salesman?
Yes?
We're going to go with the wolves.
(growling)
Beat it.
(whimpering)
Dad, I love you this much,
but that's just under $900.
I wish I could go $17,000, but...
Mm... Mm...
Sir, if I may.
Think of it an investment in extravagance.
The Mauso-palooza can be seen from space.
It will consume as much cement
as a regulation-size tennis court.
Tennis court, eh?
Oh, I can't believe we went through all that
just to wind up with a tennis court.
I'll bet you didn't see that coming.
You don't care what happens to me when I die.
Of course I do, Dad.
Oh, and if it were up to me
you wouldn't die at all,
but try telling that to Killy McGee up there.
(tapping sounds)
Ooh. What on Earth are you doing?
Practising tennis.
That's tennis? Oh!
Then what's the one where the chicks whale on each other?
Foxy boxing?
Yes! That's what I wanted!
Oh! (sobbing)
"And finally, make sure the net is tight and springy."
-(grunts) -(barking)
(howling)
That seems about right.
You know, a tennis court
can really make your house look classy.
I hear Mel Brooks has one.
I mean, Sir Mel Brooks.
And it's bad news for the gophers.
(muffled chattering)
And it's going to do wonders for our social life.
Yeah, it'd be nice
to entertain friends and have people over.
Hey, you got a tennis court?
Keep walking, Flanders.
Will do.
Faster.
(grunts)
(grunting)
(all grunting)
Sorry. I grunted way too early.
We win again.
Hey, this was a lot of fun, guys.
Yeah, we never knew nobody
with their own tennis rink.
So what happens now?
Is the food free, or do we pay someone?
Of course not.
They send you a bill.
Well, that's why I asked.
That's how you learn, by asking, you dumbass.
(both grunting)
Can you believe it?
Kent Brockman playing on our court.
BROCKMAN: Match point.
And how about that Stephanie the weather girl?
(flirtatious growl)
-Homer, ball. -(grunting)
Oh!
Ha-ha! That's game, set and match to us.
But the real winners here are Marge's hors d'oeuvres.
Whoa, how do you come up with such witty remarks?
-(chuckle) Well... -(static over ear piece)
MAN: Come on, come on. Hurry up.
(typewriter keys clacking)
"I guess you could say
It's my racket."
I guess you could say I'm Iraqi.
(gasps) Get off my property.
So from now on
all hats are banned from the school.
Even bonnets?
Especially bonnets.
I've had it with that school.
-(doorbell ringing) -Door.
(humming)
(gasping) Chief Wiggum.
Are you here to make a bust of some kind?
No, we're just, uh... checking to make sure
you're having a crime-free morning.
Oh, as far as I know.
You know what would be a real crime?
What's that, Lou?
Uh, letting that tennis court go to waste.
Would you boys like to play tennis?
Why, yes. Yes, we would.
OK. We'll be right out.
Let's roll, Lou.
(humming)
Take it, Lou.
(Lou humming)
Huh?
Well, hello, Marge.
Lovely day for tennis, eh?
I thought you had your own court.
He did, but he had it converted into a human chessboard.
Hey, Burns has been gone for a while.
Let's make a run for it.
Come back, fools!
Protect me.
(grunts)
Ah.
Hey, check it out.
I'm surfing the net.
(laughter)
His clowning around is putting me at ease.
No.
Yes! We win again.
Will you get serious, Homer?
I'd like to win at least once.
Come on, Marge, all sports have
their lovable clowns.
John Rocker, O.J. Simpson, Dorf.
(Marge grunts)
Hey, Homer. Here's a bloopie for you.
I've got it.
It's in the bag.
Ow!
-(laughter) -(groaning)
Oh, no!
(sighing)
Hey Chief, we're going to bust up that crackhouse tonight.
We did that last night.
Yeah, but this time we got the right address.
-Uh, you coming? -Well, I'd love to, Lou,
but, uh, I'm playing tennis at the Simpsons' again.
Ooh, Maggie, are your ears burning?
The Simpsons?
You mean the L.A. Clippers of backyard tennis?
(giggles): Yeah, they're easier to beat than a suspect in shackles.
Pretty easy to beat a suspect in shackles, Chief.
Well, that's the joke, Lou.
It's on the Simpsons and their easy beatability.
(laughter)
-(gasps) -(laughter continues)
I think they enjoy being humiliated.
I don't know what's sadder about the Simpsons
the fact that we mock them or that they shall never know.
(exclaims)
SIDESHOW MEL: Never, ever, ever.
-Ever. -(gasps)
(sighs)
Do... I... have... cooties?
"No."
Ah, this home testing kit saved me a fortune.
You'll never guess what I heard in the supermarket today.
I found out we're the laughing stock of the town.
Oh, well, that's bad news for Dingbat Charlie.
He's gonna be crushed.
I thought our tennis court was bringing us a little respectability.
Instead, people make fun of our lousiness.
OK. Now, some of that is me.
All of that is you.
You've gotta take this more seriously.
OK, honey.
I can see this means a lot to you.
I'll practice till my elbow is swollen and discolored.
That's all I ask.
(grunting)
No. It's a smooth motion.
You follow through with your racket.
(grunting)
Uh-oh.
(explosion)
You know, this is such a beautiful day.
I don't know why we don't operate outside more often.
(monitor flatlining)
Time of death, 10:15.
(laughing)
Good news, honey.
I found a way to prove to the town we're not losers.
I entered us in a doubles tournament.
What? We're not ready to compete.
Don't worry.
The tournament's not till tomorrow.
OK, get ready for the serve.
(grunting)
Get them off! Get them off!
How embarrassing.
You take over, Bart.
Lisa! Lisa, beer me.
I'll be right out, honey.
Oh, that's OK. Bart's doing fine.
You just have another beer.
Now, that's the kind of nagging I can live with.
So Barney's, like, "You're on your own, dude."
And I'm, like, "Not even."
I don't know what this has to do with the Civil War.
I'm getting to that.
(both grunting)
Lookin' good, honey.
I think you and I might just win this tournament dealie.
Hey, Bart.
Yeah, you've got your Daddy's hustle.
Too busy to reply, huh?
I know how that goes.
Well, I think I'll go lay out my clothes for the tournament.
(humming)
Perfect.
(happily humming)
Well, I'm ready for the big tournament.
Hey there, son.
Oh, hi, Dad.
With that little outfit on, everyone's going to think
you're playing in the tournament.
I am playing in the tournament.
It's going to be tough without a partner.
-I've got a partner. -Well, good for you.
Anyone I know?
Yeah, you know her.
Oh. Hello, Homer.
Good morning, partner.
Um... there's something I should tell you.
The name of Bart's partner? I'm all ears.
Well, actually...
the name of Bart's partner... is... um...
Yes, darling?
I'm Bart's partner.
No. No, no. no.
You're my partner.
Dude, I think the lady's made her decision.
I'm sorry, Homie.
We'll talk about it later, OK?
No!
Traitors!
-(glass shattering) -(tires screeching)
Uh-oh.
I don't think they saw me.
I'm going to put my trophy on the mantle.
How about you?
I was thinking mantle, too.
Talk about being on the same wavelength.
HOMER: Hello, Marge.
Hello, Bart.
How are the tennis partners?
Oh, Homie, I'm sorry I hurt your feelings. (sighing)
Don't touch me.
Your hands feel like salad tongs.
I just wanted to win for once.
Please, don't take it as a threat to your manhood.
(Homer gasps)
My manhood? I never thought of that!
We were good, Dad.
They asked us to play in the Krusty Klassic.
It's for charity.
It benefits victims of balcony collapse.
We could wipe out B.C. in our lifetime.
I don't care about B.C.
I care about M.E.-- my enjoyment.
(sobbing)
It's obvious what's happening.
I'm being replaced by a younger more in-your-face version of me.
Dad, you're just going through a classic Oedipal anxiety.
You remember the story of Oedipus, don't you?
Hmm. Maybe five bucks would refresh my memory.
(sighs) Oedipus killed his father and married his mother.
Ugh! Who pays for that wedding?
I'm just saying you feel threatened by Bart
but it's all in your head.
You're right.
But just to be safe, maybe I should chain him up.
Dad, I think you're overreacting.
I think you're underreacting.
This session's over.
This session's under.
Good-bye.
Bad-bye.
(moaning)
No! No! Stay away from my wife, Bart!
Darling, you're so much handsomer
than my first husband.
I may have the looks, but he's the trophy husband.
(laughs)
He thought that trip
to the guillotine factory was just for fun
but it was the perfect place to shoot him.
(gasping)
Ah! That's the guy.
That's the guy from my dream.
Go ahead and smile, smart guy.
I'm going to mop you up like turkey gravy.
Are you sure you want me to be your doubles partner?
Absolutely, sweetie.
And you're not doing it out of spite?
(chuckling): No, of course not.
Now, aim for your mother's heart.
(Lisa exclaims)
Dad, I don't want to enter the tournament
just to hurt Mom.
Oh, come on.
You've been gunning for Queen Bee
ever since you buzzed into this hive.
Now, serve.
(grunts)
MARGE: Lisa!
Did you make that awful effigy?
Hey, leave my teammate alone.
Lisa's your teammate?
(laughs)
What's so funny? I'm better than you.
Now, Lisa, you know that's not true.
How would you know?
Your backhand looks like a rusty gate.
You little...
Come on, Bart.
Babies.
(all eating noisily)
Telegram for Lisa Simpson.
(mimicking envelope opening)
Don't listen. It's a trick.
"Dear Lisa-- Psych!
Psych, psych, psych!
Signed, Super-psych."
I think he's trying to psych you out.
Look, we're all trying to have dinner
so why don't we just-- Psych! Psych! Psych!
(players grunting)
(ballboys groaning)
BOTH: Ooh.
(ballboys groaning)
Ooh, where did you buy that novelty hand, sir?
This? Oh, it's just fluid collecting.
(grunts)
Hey, hey! What do you think, folks?
I hope I don't get arrested for racket-earring.
(weak laughter)
Eh, what do you want?
I'm not going to do "A" material for charity.
And after all, that is why we're here.
Well, look who's here.
You two are going down.
No, we're not.
You're going down.
Did you hear that? She said we're going down.
All we can do is our very best.
Oh, that's loser talk!
(sobbing)
Now I'd like to introduce
two of the tennis world's most unbeatable players.
Venus and Serena Williams.
Unbeatable, eh?
Comin' through! Hey, hi, Otto.
Sorry.
(laughing)
-What are you doing? -That's our dad's seat.
Hey, that's great.
Listen, I need a new doubles partner.
My little girl's a lead weight.
You're dumping your own daughter?
Yeah, but only to crush my wife and son.
That's horrible!
Yeah, that's pretty low.
-Hmm, you seem less disgusted. Let's go. -(exclaims)
Our next match is Marge and Bart Simpson...
(applause)
HOMER: Boo!
...versus Homer and Lisa--
Sorry, that's Homer and Venus Simpson.
What? Huh?
Venus Simpson?
You're replacing me?
Now, Lisa, "dumping" is such a harsh word.
Let's just say I'm replacing you.
(Lisa sighs)
WIGGUM: 15-love.
Once again, I'm outraged by this last-minute switch.
We all got problems.
I dropped my cookie.
(gun cocks)
You sure you want to risk it?
It's totally unfair for one side to have
a professional player.
All right, all right, you guys can have Serena.
I just ate a personal pizza.
(groans)
Oh, you're dumping me.
Honey, I'll make it up to you in bottle rockets.
(sighing)
OK, swing.
Run! Hit the thing.
Now run across the...
-(grunts) -Yeah.
Whoopsie.
Marge, how bad do you want to win?
Oh. Oh, I'd do anything.
Good. Yo, Pete!
Pete Sampras!
Get over here!
Yes! I'm in!
(audience applauding)
(laughing)
Everybody's been dumped but me!
I'm undumpable!
ANDRE AGASSI: Yoink!
My tennis stick!
Who are you?
I'm Andre Agassi.
The wrestler?
Come on, tubby, get off the court.
Scat!
Come on. Let's play.
I've got to tape a Ho-Hos commercial.
Which one am I? Serena or Venus?
You're Andre. I'm Serena.
Ha-ha-ha! You're a girl!
Why don't we stop this nonsense?
I'm not mad anymore.
Me, neither.
I'm just enjoying some world-class tennis.
You know, there's a lesson here for all of us.
It's better to watch stuff than to do stuff.
Amen.
After the tournament
let's go out for a nice family dinner.
(chuckling)
Courtesy of Pete Sampras.
D'oh!
Sorry.
(chuckles) Sucker.
(theme music playing)
Shh!
Captioned by Visual Data Media Services