(beeping)
KIEFER SUTHERLAND: Previously on 24...
I mean The Simpsons:
Behold... our new state-of-the-art weapon
in the global war against misbehavior.
CTU...
-the Counter Truancy Unit! -(kids gasp)
(moaning)
-(screams) -(Nelson laughing)
(whimpers)
I’ve got something!
The sixth-grade security camera
shows three empty desks.
Enhance!
Dehance! Dehance!
I ran the attendance protocols.
Here are your three missing students:
Hmm.
Good work, Database.
MARTIN/MILHOUSE: We helped.
(alarm blaring)
(siren wailing)
(shouting)
(amplified breathing)
(ticking)
Whoa.
-This is the source of the stench. -Hey.
Get your own yogurt.
Vile curd.
Simpson, you can take your putrid mess
far out of my sight, you song-less land whale.
Whoo-hoo!
Business trip!
(laughing)
(kids laughing)
Simpson!
I’ll teach you to make a Poupon "me."
(raucous laughter)
(grunts)
(shoes squeaking)
(groans)
(humming)
If someone did eat Bart’s shorts,
they’d have a tummy full of pocket garbage.
Hmm.
Mm.
Hmm.
(gasps)
The school’s having a bake sale today?!
At 3:00?!
I promised them a cake.
I’ve only got 27 minutes.
The pre-heat is on.
SUTHERLAND: Or maybe it’s a.m.
Whichever one is the morning one, it’s not that one.
Apu, I’m returning a yogurt
I wasn’t a hundred percent satisfied with.
Mmm?
Ooh. Oh my God!
If a dead fish and a homeless person had a baby,
and the baby puked, and a dog ate the puke,
this smells like the rear end of that dog!
I’ll give you any yogurt in the store,
just take that thing with you when you go!
(chuckling)
JIMBO: Let’s spit in the coffee pots.
DOLPH: I call hazelnut.
Truants moving into the Kwik-E-Mart.
I’ve got a visual.
(sniffing)
Ugh!
That yogurt is toxic.
It’s just what we’ve been looking for.
Now this crossword’s nothin’ but swears.
(gasps)
We’ve got what we need.
Milhouse, bring them in.
Roger that.
And Lisa, if I don’t make it back,
there’s a letter in my locker I want you to read.
I already read it.
We’ve all read it.
Wait, Milhouse, hold your position.
Something doesn’t add up.
Look what the bullies could have stolen...
Big Chief Rotten Cheeks Chewing Tobacco...
a take-a-penny tray with a quarter in it.
So why steal the yogurt?
We have to find out what they’re up to.
Hmm... Milhouse,
change of plan--
observe and follow.
Permission to buy a Hostess fruit pie
to keep my strength up?
Denied.
Hey Milhouse, who are you spying on?
-Those bullies? -Huh?
(screaming)
What about the fat guy?
Hey, lay off.
You’re the fat one of you guys!
I’m bulking up for football!
(Homer whimpering)
HOMER: I’m still alive.
You call that playing to win?
(Milhouse and Homer screaming)
(Homer giggling)
HOMER: Ooh.
MILHOUSE: Mr. Simpson, I’m scared.
HOMER: This is our life now, Milhouse.
We’re Dumpster folk.
(static bursting)
I’ve lost Milhouse.
He’ll be somewhat missed.
Who do we send now?
(moaning, whimpering)
Principal Skinner,
you know we have only one agent
who stands a chance with those bullies.
(sighs) My brother.
Lord, give me guidance.
That’s right, the Guidance Department-- Detention Room.
Thank you, Mrs. Lord.
(grunting angrily)
Hmm?
(grunting)
All out?
I can’t make my famous raisin sponge-cake without raisins.
Kids love the zing of raisins!
If I help you, I want full immunity
for all pranks past and future,
and you have to teach me a swear word
I don’t already know.
No deal.
Okay, suit yourself.
It’s not like you have any major events coming up
that the bullies would want to disrupt.
(gasps)
The bake sale!
Principal Skinner, as we both know,
but you might need reminding,
the annual bake sale provides 90% of the school’s funding.
Okay, you have a deal,
you conniving little...
-(whispering) -(gasps)
Wow, that’s a swear?
Used as a noun it is.
Sweet!
Now I’m going to need some wheels.
Yes, of course.
I think we can wrangle you a used bicycle.
Do you prefer Schwinn or Huffy?
Bart? Where did he...?
(gasps) My car keys!
(engine starting)
(tires squealing)
Road kill, burnt hair,
my sister’s retainer case,
six weeks of bottled farts, possum placenta,
sweat from a walk-around Goofy suit.
And finally, T.C.B.Y.--
that container of botulized yogurt.
Okay, everyone, masks on.
(grunts)
(liquid gurgling, hissing)
Gentlemen, we’ve created the mother of all stink bombs.
(laughter)
Most satisfactory.
(door squeaks open)
Jimbo, sweetie, I have to run to the bank.
Are you boys going to be okay alone?
Put a top on, Mom!
Everyone’s seen your implants.
But the doctor said the air will help them...
Just go!
(door closes)
Lookin’ good, Carol!
(squeaking)
(hissing)
(sniffing, liquid hissing)
(squeals)
(beeping)
(both grunting)
I saw it first!
You are such a liar!
(grunting continues)
(train whistle blowing)
You give that to me!
(methodic beeping)
(train whistling blowing, train chugging)
(crashing)
(train whistle blowing)
(liquid hissing)
(sniffing)
Must... escape.
(wheel squeaking)
(whimpers)
Springfield Elementary is about
to be Stinkfield Elementary.
Lisa, they’re going to put a stink bomb in the school.
I might be able to stop them,
but I’ll need a schematic of Jimbo’s house.
Jimbo drew a couple of pictures of his house in second grade,
but I can’t vouch for their accuracy.
The teacher gave him a frowny-face.
(button tones beeping)
I’m so proud of us.
(Odd Couple theme ring tone playing)
You got Jimbo.
They’re on to you, Jimbo!
Get out of there!
Scram... mbled eggs would be lovely
for breakfast, Mother.
(whispering): Just go! Quickly!
We’re busted!
Thanks, mole.
Now make your split- screen vanish.
Will do!
Ooh!
Damn it, these blueprints are all wrong.
Where’s the roller coaster room and the shark tank?
-(heavy door closes) -Huh?
Ooh.
(grunts)
Son of a beach ball, they’re gone!
(whimpering)
(phone speed dialing)
I’ve got a man down!
Well, not a man.
A very special boy.
(static on other end)
Chloe, I need those schematics now!
What? Who is this?
I’m Jack Bauer. Who the hell are you?
-Me? Uh, I’m... Ahmed Adoody. -(rapid gunfire)
Chloe, find out all you can about Ahmed Adoody.
Does anyone there know Ahmed Adoody?
Ahmed Adoody, wealthy Saudi financier.
Disappeared into Afghanistan in the late 90s.
-Really? -No, Jack, it’s a joke name.
You’re being set up.
Damn it!
(laughing)
Now, let’s see.
20 minutes at 300 degrees is the equivalent
of five minutes at...
Let’s see... (mumbles)
1,200 degrees.
Now...
to make the folded index card that goes in front of the cake.
(loud hissing)
(sniffing)
(explosion)
(hissing)
(groans)
D’oh!
(clock ticks)
No!
Oh. Pink frosting fixes everything.
HOMER: Say, is your butt numb from all this vibrating?
(laughs) Oh, mine is.
Still, I wouldn’t describe it as unpleasant.
Well, let’s get some shut-eye.
Ooh, it’s that bar I like!
Wait here in the car.
Ow!
Okay, this might hurt a little.
No problem.
(whirring)
Oh, sweet mother of Mary!
(whirring)
(groans)
Okay, Milhouse, what do you want to do?
Well, the school’s having a bake sale.
Old Betsy’ll get us there.
(grunting)
We are projecting an effective stink radius
farther than any of us can kick a kickball.
Sir, we have to call off this bake sale now!
Yes, yes, yes, we have to do something.
Although, the basketball hoops have been retracted.
D.J. Fun-times has already cashed his deposit,
and Superintendent Chalmers won’t be happy to hear...
I won’t be happy to hear what, Seymour?
Um, that, uh, bake sale revenue projections
are through the roof!
I’m very happy to hear that.
You don’t know me at all.
We have to find those bullies before the bake sale starts.
Martin, run a top-down search on the school security grid.
Will do, and you chose the perfect person.
(laughs)
(mechanical hum)
(gasps) The stink bomb!
I can’t let anyone see it!
Martin, anything?
I wish.
This is as boring as mainstream cinema.
(both laughing)
So true.
(methodic beeping)
Cops. Act natural.
(girly laughter)
(high-pitched voice): Hello, Officer!
Oh, afternoon, ma’am.
(sighs) What is it about a woman in a Dumpster?
(methodic beeping)
Wait!
(grunts)
Mr. Simpson!
(groans)
(gasping)
My cake!
(grunts)
They’re gonna wish the bake sale was a nose plug sale.
And it totally isn’t.
(all laughing)
Teens?
In Willie’s hidey hole?
I’ll mop up your blood from the inside!
(all scream)
(alarm ringing)
We have a fire alarm in the ventilation room!
I’ll check it out.
(door opens, closes)
(panting)
(sighs)
♪ Skip, skip, skip to my Lou... ♪
Top of the morning, Nelson.
And to you, Martin.
♪ Skip to my Lou, my darling. ♪
Hey, Nelson, what gives?
Martin just skipped past you singing "Skip to My Lou,"
and you did nothing.
Can’t a guy enjoy a catchy tune?
(grunts)
Ow! Ow!
I’m unclear on what you want!
Is Martin working for Jimbo?
Uh...
Ow! (groans)
Yes.
Yes what?
Ow!
Yes, sir.
(groans)
Lisa, are you on a secure line?
I am.
You’re on a Bluetooth cell phone,
the most vulnerable device known to man.
But it looks so cool.
Listen, there’s a mole inside CTU.
A mole?!
Yes, a mole.
Now, I don’t have much time,
so I’m just gonna come right out and say his name,
so get ready to know his name.
His name is the following: M...
♪ Skip, skip, skip to my Lou. ♪
(overlapping chatter)
Rice Krispie Treats?!
Way to phone it in, Sarah Wiggum.
Excuse me, excuse me, I’m in the sale.
Okay, I kept my end of the deal.
Release my friends.
All here, from Asimov to Zarathustra.
Where’s Phobos?!
He’s with us now.
(groans)
We’re out of here.
Smell you later.
Three minutes later, to be exact.
(beeping)
What have I done?
Raisin cake.
Who wants raisin cake?
Don’t worry, it’s not too moist.
Hmm?
(sighs)
Can I have some more money?
I gave you ten dollars.
All the other moms gave their husbands $20.
Well, all the other husbands
don’t come home dirty from fighting.
I had fight.
Lenny said his dad is Hulk Hogan,
and I know he’s not.
Here’s five more dollars.
(gasps)
(laughing)
Bart, are you all right?
Bart?!
Hey, I’m fine. They haven’t made
a French horn yet that can hurt me.
Now, I’m sending you a picture of the bomb.
(grunting)
My God.
That’s a class-five stench-dispersal unit.
We have to short out that fan.
"H.D.W."
What’s that?
That’s the main valve
of the hot dog water recirculation system.
There’s over 30 years of wiener soakings in there.
Lis, you have to release that water.
It’s the only way to short out the fan.
But you and Willie will drown.
Possibly, but I can’t risk
Superintendent Chalmers finding out about...
Finding out about what, Seymour?
Um, about how early press coverage of the bake sale
is uniformly positive.
Once again, you have thoroughly misgauged my response.
This is going on your permanent record.
The hot dog water’s going to push us into the fan!
And I just sharpened those blades.
(weakly): ♪ Skip to my Lou... my darling. ♪
Bart, I’ve got an idea.
As you’re dying, jam the blades with your spine.
Keep pitching. I’ll be back.
(inhales deeply)
(humming)
(gasps)
Look!
A window to a child’s watery grave!
Don’t worry, I’ll free the boy.
(crowd gasping)
(gunshots)
(gasps)
Damn it! This glass is bulletproof.
There’s nothing that can shatter it.
MARGE: Yes, there is!
(beeping)
Huh?
Ooh, a thermos.
With seven cups of coffee still in it.
Oh, wait, six.
Dad, that’s a bomb!
Here! It’s yours!
(panting)
(gasps)
How do I stop it?
Oh, that’s convenient.
(sighs)
SKINNER: Thank goodness this crisis was averted.
Nicely done, Lisa.
Hey, what about me?
I almost died, and so did Willie.
(grunting)
Oh, leave me be.
I don’t want to live if I have to clean up this mess.
Oh, my special little guy.
I’m so glad you’re okay.
Oh, I’m just glad you taste like hot dogs.
(crowd gasps)
Good work, Lisa!
What about me?
Bart Simpson, 12 minutes ago,
you made an annoying prank phone call to me.
All units, move in.
I pulled every single field agent off all other cases
to track you down and bring you to justice.
It was a tough decision, but I think I made the right call.
(explosion)
(all gasp)
It’s okay, that was Shelbyville.
(all sigh)
(methodic beeping)
Captioned by VISUAL DATA
Shh!
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