CHOIR: ♪ The Simpsons ♪
(tires screeching)
D’oh!
(screams)
♪♪
HOMER: Hmm.
♪♪
(Homer snoring)
Hmm.
(sighs)
What’s the matter, sweetie?
Tomorrow’s Multicultural Day at school.
Now what do they want?
(snoring)
I’ve got to give a presentation about our family’s heritage,
but ours is so boring.
Yep. The Simpsons have never married,
or even shook hands, with anyone interesting.
In a world of 31 flavors,
we’re the cup of water they rinse the scoops in.
Grampa out.
Aw, Grampa.
We should take lots of pictures of him while we still can.
Camera’s broken!
(snoring)
(sad music)
(chuckling)
Hey, Lis, check it out.
With some clever scissor work,
I can make the Lake Land Butter Indian maiden show me her boobs.
Clean, dirty.
(laughs)
Clean, dirty.
(laughs): Clean, dirty.
(laughs)
Bart, stop that!
Native Americans are a proud people
with a noble heritage.
A noble heritage that anyone can claim.
Cool!
Look what Snap’s doing to Pop
while Crackle watches!
(laughing)
"My great-great-great- great... great-grandmother
was a Native American.
She was a member of the..."
(music swells)
"...Hitachee tribe."
♪♪
Wait. Is it wrong for me to appropriate the culture
of a long-suffering people?
I’ll tell you what’s wrong:
You getting a "C" on this project
and winding up at a third-rate college.
Lisa, the world needs you to go to Wellesley!
You’re right.
I’ll just need to find
traditional garb.
(Native American music)
And so, my proud people were nearly destroyed
by the warfare, disease,
and greed of the invading Europeans.
I didn’t come here to be insulted.
Guten tag!
(dog panting)
Today, the Hitachees have dwindled to a handful,
and our detailed genealogical records
were cruelly destroyed by the white man.
So, any attempts to research my tribe
would be the ultimate insult.
(clapping) Splendid, Lisa.
By far, the best presentation of the day.
I’m still proud of what I am.
And you should be.
The city’s Multicultural Council
has invited one lucky student to perform at City Hall.
Lisa, you’ll be representing us
and the noble Hitachee people.
Oh... great!
I’d... love to.
Mm-hmm.
Why did I have to lie about my heritage?
By speaking with forked tongue, I am in heap big trouble.
(gasps)
And now I’m thinking in stereotypes!
That’s even worse!
(screaming)
Must be the war cry of her tribe.
Probably. Now, get me some coffee.
(chicken clucking)
Daddy, I got me a C-minus
on my Multicultural project.
A C-minus, huh?
Well, let’s celebrate.
Hey, Brandine, empty out the tub!
We’s makin’ rum!
BRANDINE: Can’t use the tub!
I’m drownin’ rats in it!
Still?! Are you drownin’ ’em or makin’ love to ’em?
(bellows)
(chicken clucks)
(busy music playing)
(chirps)
(screech)
(shrieks)
(music continues)
Oh!
(bellows)
(dramatic music)
(screaming)
Mr. Burns, help me!
Why? You’re not helping me.
But, sir, I’m flaming!
(screaming)
My God, Willie, that fire
is headed right for the tetherball pole.
Put it out!
I cannot!
All the extinguishers are gone!
Then I’m afraid these Wet Ones
will have to do the job.
Gah! These are drier than a Charles Grodin quip.
(foreboding music)
What monster, or pair of monsters,
would steal our extinguishers?
If this works, I’ll go faster than any ten-year-old
has ever gone.
Whoa!
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!
(dramatic music)
Oh, the flames are heading straight for the Flammable District!
That’s where our mom works!
(screaming)
My last words are "Lisa sucks!"
(heroic brass music)
That boy is a hero!
Let’s get hoisting!
ALL: Bart! Bart! Bart!
(pleased chuckle)
Young man, to show our gratitude,
the City of Springfield will grant you one wish.
Really? Hmm.
(joyful music)
(satisfied sigh)
(cool jazz music)
(crowd cheering)
That’s it! I want a license!
To kill?
No. To drive.
Suit yourself.
Do you wish to be an organ donor?
No way! I don’t want my guts touching some sick guy.
Well, you make a good point.
-ALL: Oh, yeah. -I agree.
Oh, this is a bad time for me to have massive organ failure.
(chuckling)
Where do you think you’re going?
(nervous screeching)
(cool jazz music)
Oh, I can’t believe this day is already here.
Me taking you for your first driving lesson.
Hey! That jerk cut us off.
Pull alongside.
Eat Marshall Tucker, idiot!
(grunting)
MARGE: Homer? Is that you?
(yelps): Floor it!
("Jessica" by The Allman Brothers playing)
(school bell ringing)
♪♪
(tires screeching)
(panicked shrieks and yells)
(groaning)
(shrieks)
The Hitachees invented women’s lacrosse...
soft luggage...
(interested murmuring)
And that thing where you’re walking
and someone’s walking towards you
and you each try to step aside
but you both go the same way and you do it again and again
until one of you just scoots around?
They had seven names for that.
Whoa, you just blew my mind!
Uh, thank you and good night.
AUDIENCE: Yay!
Show’s over. Let’s go.
What’s your hurry?
Well, some of my report...
um... wasn’t thoroughly fact-checked.
(nervous giggle)
(laughs)
My little girl’s just like CBS News.
Lisa, it was wonderful!
I am such a proud Hitachee mother.
Lisa, hi, my name is John Squawking Bear.
I’m a reporter for The Chippewa Bugle.
I happen to have today’s.
You know, uh, I thought I knew all the lost tribes.
I’ve never heard of the Hitachee.
(giggles nervously)
Yes, we’re among the lostest.
Uh-huh. Where were you centered?
Centered. Centered...
You know where the four states come together?
Oh, quite well.
Not there. Not even close.
In the name of the Great Turtle, will you answer the question?
We were south... west of... North Dakota-lahoma.
Hmm.
Very good.
Well, I better get to my office
before my boss, Screaming Editor, gets mad.
I kid, but he’s a real jerk.
(gulps)
Hey, guys. See you in a bit.
I entered a thousand-mile Baja Road race.
Hold on there, boy.
If you wanna keep using that car,
you’d better start pullin’ your weight.
This cell phone is so I can call you
whenever I need your driving services.
I put in my own ringtone!
("Fur Elise" blaring)
Hello, Bart?
Now, listen. I need you to go the gas station.
Tell them you need to inflate your tires,
but actually you inflate these volleyballs.
Then, throw them over the wall of the prison
to create chaos and confusion.
("Fur Elise" blaring)
H-Hello?
HOMER (drunk): Bart! Buddy!
It’s your dad!
I need a ride.
I think I’m in Chinatown.
Not our Chinatown.
LISA: Slow down!
You’re too close to that car.
Your hands should be at ten and two, not three and nothing!
You know, it’d be a real shame
if someone started investigating your "Indian heritage."
I’ll be good.
("Fur Elise" blaring)
Oh, man.
What now?
Boy, I don’t want to freak you out,
but I’m calling from inside the trunk.
(thumping)
That was me.
Some very un-cool people put me in here.
(motor revving)
This sucks.
I can’t do anything fun
’cause I’m doing so many stupid errands.
("Fur Elise" blaring)
Shut up, shut up, shut up!
HOMER: Ah! It’s dark in here!
Oh, I gotta get outta this town for a while.
Time to put the pedal to the metal.
(War’s "Lowrider" plays)
Ooh, North Haverbrook.
The very name conjures up romance and intrigue.
(bell rings)
Wow, a mint condition Hippie Hulk from 1968!
Tune in, turn on, Hulk out!
Oh, man, this town’s got everything!
Hey, hey, LBJ, how many pants you rip today?
(growl)
♪ Gonna rock around the clock tonight ♪
♪ Gonna rock, rock, rock till broad daylight ♪
♪ Gonna rock, gonna rock around the clock tonight ♪
♪♪
Any of you ladies like stereo music?
I do.
You look kinda young.
Uh... Yeah.
I have that disease that makes you look like an old man,
but they gave me medicine for it and I took too much.
That’s cool. I’m Darcy.
I’m Bart Simpson, who the hell are you?
Oh, right. (chuckles) Darcy.
(romantic accordion music)
(both laughing)
("Fur Elise" blaring)
HOMER: Bart! This is a matter of life and death.
What is the difference between ketchup and catsup?
They’re gonna cut my head off...
(both laughing)
Kyle, are you sure we should be making out
in this abandoned sawmill?
Lighten up, baby.
There hasn’t been a murder here in ten years.
Ten years tonight.
(chainsaw buzzing)
GIRL: It’s the kid we locked
in the cemetery in the first grade!
BOY: Hey, what are you gonna do with that chainsaw, dork?
(chainsaw buzzing, couple screaming)
(screaming)
I really like you, Bart.
That is such a girl thing to say.
(smooching)
So, Doctor, was it all a dream.
(buzzing, screaming)
(romantic French music playing)
Bart, let’s get married.
(gulps): What?!
Why not?
We’ve made out.
It’s not right to make out with somebody
if you have no intention of marrying them.
I mean, you’re not a jerk, right?
(gulps): No, I’m not, but...
Then it’s settled. (smooches)
Oh, man, I must be the first guy
who was ever pressured into marriage.
(foreboding music)
Look, Darcy, I like you.
I really do. It’s just...
I’m only ten years old.
Wha?!
I’m really sorry.
Bart, I’ve been keeping a secret from you, too.
I’m pregnant.
(engine grinding)
(groans)
(engine grinds)
I’m going to be a father?!
What?! No!
You couldn’t be the father.
We never got close to that.
Really? We didn’t?
But we kissed and held hands at the same time.
Wow, you really are ten.
I thought you were just kind of stupid.
I’m ten and stupid.
Look, if I’m not the father, then who is?
A Norwegian exchange student.
He’s long gone, back to Norwegia.
I wanted you to marry me so my baby would have a dad.
I’m very religious that way.
How religious can you be if you’re pregnant?
Good answer.
(sobs)
Marrying you was my only hope.
When my parents find out, they’re gonna kill me.
(sobbing)
Look, Darcy, maybe there’s still a way we can get married.
How?
You’re just a kid!
Maybe I shouldn’t be telling you this,
but there is a state where the marriage laws
are a little looser.
Utah.
Utah?
Home of America’s most powerful weirdos?
Our lives could be so wonderful there.
(serene music)
(gargling)
Oh, Bart.
You are an extreme husband
and an extreme father.
Awesome!
(tense Native American music)
The people of my tribe lived in harmony with the land.
Eating mock buffalo steaks made from
peaceful turnip roots,
uh, they...
Environment...
uh, dignity...
Corn god...
(groans): I’m sorry, I can’t do this!
I made it all up!
There is no Hitachee tribe.
I took the name from my microwave.
(crowd murmuring)
But surely you can forgive a little girl who...
(screams)
Wait, wait.
Although she is not one of our people,
this young lady has shown the courage
we Native Americans cherish.
And who can blame her for wanting to be one of us?
We have a noble heritage and cheekbones to die for.
(cheering)
I’m not Native American, either.
I just ski a lot.
(crowd gasps)
I’m Japanese.
Well, I’m an Aborigine.
I’m two midgets in a costume.
What? Not you, Fibbing Bear?!
(clamoring)
You know, my great-great grandmother was an Indian.
I guess I should’ve mentioned that before, huh?
Yes, you should have!
(screams)
Bart, sweetie.
I need some strawberries.
Mm-hmm. I bet they sell them in Utah.
Bart, I need some strawberries.
Right now.
We’re in the middle of the desert.
I need strawberries!
BART: Take my wife...
please.
Hey, I finally get that joke.
-(smack) -Ow!
I just found this note in Bart’s room.
"Dear Mom and Dad, me and my girlfriend Darcy
have gone to Utah to get married.
FYI: she’s pregnant."
(chuckling): Oh.
Simpson men get the job done.
(groans)
It’s a tragedy, a real tragedy.
I mean, what kind of tramp gets knocked up
before she’s even married?
I did.
I mean in this day and age,
when the link between sex and pregnancy has been proven
so... conclusively...
in Scientific American, where...
Okay, we can trace where the kids are
by the charges they made on your card.
In Colorado, they charged $200 worth of bubble gum.
Actually,
that was me.
"Dingle’s Berries" in Provo, Utah?
Why would I go to Utah?
I love booze, caffeine and monogamy.
Then that must be it.
Our daughter says she’s run off with your son.
Did she mention she was knocked up?
-No! -Oops! Sorry for the spoiler.
So how many brides will you be marrying today, Mr. Simpson?
Just one.
(scoffs): What are you, gay?
Stop the wedding!
Bart, you’re too young to get married.
You still make me check the closet for the boogeyman.
Well, maybe I found someone else to do it for me.
Someone who will do a more thorough job.
I don’t care how young he is,
he took advantage of a girl five years older than him.
Utah karate!
(intense drum music)
(grunts)
(groans)
Dad, lay off the Bartman.
He’s not the father.
I just wanted to marry him,
so you and Mom wouldn’t be ashamed of me.
Ashamed?
I’m thrilled...
because I’m gonna have a baby, too!
CROWD: Aw...
We can lie to the neighbors and tell them they’re twins.
Awesome idea, Dad.
I guess this is the end for us, Bart.
Thanks for everything.
Darcy, in 50 years,
you might see me walking down the street
and you’ll wonder, "Is that Bart?"
And I’ll go... (armpit farts)
and you’ll know.
BOTH: (giggling)
You know, I thought Darcy and I
would be like a real married couple.
Instead we just ended up fighting all the time.
Uh yeah, how ’bout that?
You know, for a while,
I was kind of looking forward to being a dad.
Son, one day you’re going to be a great father.
Aw...
And someday you’ll be one, too.
Thanks, boy.
(chuckles jovially)
Hey, for old time’s sake, you want to drive me around
while I sing public domain songs out the window?
You got it.
♪ Twinkle, twinkle ♪
♪ Little star ♪
♪ How I wonder what you are ♪
Captioned by VISUAL DATA
♪♪
Shh!
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