CHOIR: ♪ The Simpsons ♪
(tires screeching)
D’oh!
(screams)
(tires screeching)
There you are.
Wait a minute.
-(grunts) -Hmm.
Come and get me, you syrupy stack of man-cakes.
(sexy growl)
(groaning)
(groans)
It’s too much work.
Why don’t you come and get me?
Oh!
(kissing sounds)
(sighs)
(breathing loudly)
Jeez Louise, are you okay?
Just give me a minute.
Uh, but feel free to go nuts on me.
(laughs)
(mutters)
Hmm.
Oh, boy, dinner time!
The perfect break between work and drunk.
(sniffing)
Wait. What’s that smell?
It’s like a stalk of broccoli fell in a pot of boiling water.
(steam hissing)
It’s your new diet!
But I have all those old diets I still haven’t finished.
Your lack of bedroom pizzazz last night started me worrying,
so I hired this nutritionist, Betsy Bidwell.
Homer, did you know I used to weigh 400 pounds?
I’ll bet no man would touch you.
Well, I went from fat to "all that"
using my simple, foolproof diet.
It’s all about little substitutions.
Instead of French toast for breakfast,
why not eat a bell pepper?
When you crave something sugary,
eat a bell pepper.
Want a beer? Bell pepper!
Mmm!
It’s tangy like a pepper, but crunchy like a bell!
Bell pepper!
MAN: Hot dogs!
Get your hot dogs.
One, please.
Bell peppers-- piping cold, crunchy and bland.
Three, please.
(blows falling, Homer grunting)
(machine whirring)
♪♪
(whirring)
Not quite.
Yeah. Get out.
(whirring)
You’ve gained seven pounds!
Well, they say muscle weighs more than fat.
Homer, your body is all fat.
Homie, have you been cheating on your diet?!
What?!
I’m not even gonna dignify that with eye contact.
(squeaking)
HOMER: Hmm.
(squeaking continues)
Hmm.
(muttering)
Oh! Aah!
(muttering)
What you doin’, Mom, goin’ crazy?
Searching for evidence.
I know your father’s cheating on his diet.
Hey, Marge, looking for something?
I’m looking for something, too--
a bell pepper I don’t like.
Maybe it’ll be this one.
Wrong again.
(laughs)
(groans)
See that fat lady with the moustache?
That’s you.
See that hippo rolling in dung?
You’re the dung.
Now, that’s enough. You each got one in.
Oh, but hers was better!
(instrumental music plays on TV, camera shutter clicking)
MALE ANNOUNCER: Meet Jennifer.
She’s worried her acupuncturist boyfriend
is sticking it to someone else.
He used to be so loving.
Now he says he’s always working late,
but when he comes home, his needles aren’t even bloody!
I’ve tried everything except talking to him.
Help me, TV show!
ANNOUNCER: We’ll find out if Jennifer’s boyfriend
has been fooling around
on Sneakers.
If you suspect a loved one of cheating on you,
call the Sneakers hotline.
Also call if you don’t suspect.
Most cheating happens
when you think everything is just great.
Hmm. Could this show help me with eating cheating?
Out of the house, kids!
I have to make an adult phone call.
Oh, man, not again...
How would you...? Come on.
Go, go, go, go, go!
Hey, I didn’t know this park was here.
You wrote a report on it last week.
The Internet wrote it.
I just handed it in.
-Whoa, check that out! -(squawking)
Cool! The strong kicking the weak’s butt.
It’s disgusting!
(squeaking and squawking)
(screeches) Now you two play nice!
This is my husband.
I think he’s been
Sneakering on his diet.
I didn’t used to mind it
when he’d lock the bathroom door and snack off,
but when he’s getting it regular,
night after night after night...
(crying)
There, there.
I’m sorry I’m so emotional.
No, I mean, cry to the camera over there.
There.
(crying)
Yeah!
Hey, Martin, what are you doing?
Excavating for arrowheads!
Dude, it’s Saturday. What kind of a freak wastes his...?
May I join you?
Care to make it a trio, Bart?
You can brush, and I can blow!
Well, I agree you blow.
Then it’s a plan.
A lot of people blow, but no one blows like you.
High praise indeed!
When you look up blow in the dictionary...
-Bart, he’s not gonna get it! -Fine.
(snoring, whistling sounding)
(snoring, whistle sounding)
(snoring)
The bone’s the very thing, methinks,
to prank my sister and the dink.
(birds singing)
(whistle sounding)
Martin, I’ve made a major discovery!
A bone?!
(gasps) It could be one of the major homos!
You’re one of the major...
Forget it.
(chuckles)
(screams)
(grunts)
-Martin! -Oh, my God!
(groaning)
Grab onto this!
Come on, wake up!
(thudding)
Bart!
You can’t just run away from this!
(panting)
You’re right.
I can bike away much faster,
and ring the bell to drown out bad thoughts!
(bell dinging)
But Bart...
(bell dinging)
Bart, Martin could be seriously hurt, or worse.
You’re right. We have to do something.
Let’s watch TV!
♪ Happy, happy safe at home ♪
-♪ Happy, happy... ♪ -(sighs)
KENT BROCKMAN: We interrupt
Kaptain Kiddy’s Komfort Karnival
to report on a grisly incident
involving a small child, who has apparently
plunged off a guardrail here at Springfield National Park.
According to this pocket protector, the victim’s name is
Martin Prince.
Sadly, his pocket was protected, but nothing else.
And we know exactly who is to blame.
(both gasping)
No one.
The boy clearly fell by accident.
BOTH: Huh?
He crashed through
the tree canopy there,
and was presumably eaten by this cougar,
who is still coughing up parts of the boy’s clothes.
(coughing)
Tragic, just tragic.
You think this would fit little Ralphy?
Chief, that’s evidence.
I know, but after it’s evidence, it’s a shirt again, isn’t it?
So Chief, what’s your final word on the Prince boy?
Hmm? Oh, dead.
Definitely dead.
Uh, Chief, aren’t we supposed to, uh,
notify the family first?
What do you think I’m doing right now?
♪ Happy, happy, safe at home. ♪
Oh, my God!
We’re murderers!
Hey, I was trying to help him.
At worst, I’m an accomplice.
(gasps) I’m an accomplice!
Bookmobile.
Got any Joyce Carol Oates?
Nope. It’s all Danielle Steel.
(screaming)
I’ve been in trouble, but never like this.
Guess I’ll go turn myself in.
Uh, let’s think about this.
Martin’s gone, but it was an accident.
Ruining our lives won’t bring him back.
Lisa! You’re saying we shouldn’t tell the truth?!
I’m saying this is worse than a million A minuses!
So, how was your outside time?
We were never outside. We were here all day.
That quick talking is never a good sign.
That’s usually true, but in this case, it’s not.
MARGE: Hmm. The kids are acting awfully strange.
Maybe I should sit down with them and...
Homer, where are you going?!
Work.
It’s 4:00 o’clock on a Saturday.
I, uh, have to count the atoms
at the nuclear plant.
Conservation of mass.
It’s the law.
(door closes)
(touch tones sounding)
The load is on the road.
(tires squealing)
This episode’s gonna be great.
It’ll finally win me the respect of my father,
the Reverend Billy Graham, Junior.
(playing the theme from Rocky)
Martin Prince was known by many names--
Martin Priss, Martin Princess, Fartin’ Prince,
Martin the Brown-Nosed Reindeer...
That was mine.
Martin was a shy, awkward child
who will never fulfill his promise
to become a weird, unloved adult.
The Audio-Visual Club has prepared a video tribute
to their fallen associate.
(fife and drum playing)
("I Will Remember You" by Sarah McLachlan playing)
♪ I will remember you ♪
♪ Will you remember me? ♪
♪ Don’t let your life pass you by ♪
MRS. KRABAPPEL: Jimbo, stop that.
Usually when I do something bad, I feel good.
But not this time.
Martin was like Jesus, only real.
(sobbing)
Bart, keep it together.
People are looking.
I’m filled with rue.
You know, something bugs me.
Martin was afraid of heights.
What’s he doing on a cliff?
It don’t add up.
Hey, look who’s trying to add.
You wuss.
(all grunting)
The pig is in the sty.
(sighing): You know, I used to make documentaries
about coal miners, migrant workers,
things that mattered.
Yeah, yeah, we’re all whores.
Just get in there.
(humming)
(moaning)
Mmm...
Into your hands, I commend this crap.
(grunts)
Hmm.
(grunting)
(humming)
Well, enough burning ants.
Time to investigate.
Hmm.
(humming)
I now declare you chips and salsa.
(moaning): Oh!
Mmm!
Uh...
Oh, hey, kids.
(gulping): Um... what’s up?
What do you mean "what’s up"?
Why would something be up?
Yeah, nothing’s up, nothing’s down,
except for Martin, who died.
-Idiot! -D’oh!
(giggles nervously)
Well, I certainly wasn’t eating chips and salsa
from this briefcase.
-What’s up? -Nothing.
-Nothing.
(film noir music playing)
(sighs)
Mmm, lamb.
("Sabre Dance" playing)
Uh, I’ve never said this before,
but turn the camera off.
-(grunts) -Hey, you little murderer.
What?!
Those shades are killing me, they’re so cute.
(screams)
Act like you’re shopping.
We can’t be seen together.
But we’re brother and sister.
Exactly.
Give me an Indian burn.
-But... -Don’t make me say "Indian" again.
(groans) Ow...
-Afternoon. -(both yelp)
Doing a little shopping, huh?
Shopping at the Kwik-E-Mart.
I like how "Kwik" is spelled with a "K."
It’s a quicker way of spelling "quick."
Well, you’re busy people.
I’ll let you get on with your day.
Oh, there is one other thing.
I was up in Springfield National Park.
You know, where Martin bit the big one?
Found this bone tied to a string.
Almost like someone was playing a prank on him.
You like pranks, don’t you, dingus?
I... like pranks.
Everyone likes pranks, e-even Dr. Hibbert.
I hate pranks.
Well, I’d better get going.
The missus is cooking meatloaf tonight.
My mom-- Mrs. Muntz.
Bart, I have a plan.
We go to the morgue and come back with a hand,
put its fingerprints all over the railing...
Why are you being so quiet, Bart?
Are you judging me?
Please don’t judge me.
(gasps)
"I can’t live with the guilt.
I’m going to Martin’s house
to end it all"?!
(gasps)
Come on, pick up, pick up, I know you’re there.
(phone rings)
(machine beeps)
HOMER: Listen, baby, the other night was great,
but it can never happen again.
Oh, who am I kidding?
I have to see you right now.
(brakes screeching)
Bart, no, don’t do...
whatever the heck you’re doing.
I’m tending to Martin’s butterfly enclosure.
His butterflies are emerging from their chrysalises tonight.
You said you wanted to end it all.
By which I meant
bring Martin’s butterfly project to completion.
I can’t take it anymore.
The stress is killing me.
I’m on a freight train to Crazy Town.
-Calm down. -You calm down!
(crackling, Lisa gasps)
What was that?
BART: The butterflies are hatching.
Aren’t they beautiful?
MARTIN: Greetings, my friends.
(both scream)
This beguiling lute solo
will ease your metamorphoses.
(lute music playing)
Oh, it’s a tape.
Martin must have set it to go off
when the chrysalises hatched.
Now, if I may mimic your mother’s feeding call...
Clawdy-claw, clickety-cloo, clawdy-claw...
-(tape stops) -Thank you.
(lute music resumes)
I thought I turned
that tape off.
Maybe you just put it on auto-reverse.
"Congratulations on purchasing the Sanyo DL30,
the finest non-reversing tape player"...
(both gasp)
(humming)
Here you go, hon-- one Butterscotch Stallion.
-MARGE: Homer Jay Simpson! -(shrieks)
Pudding power, activate!
Oh, no, you don’t.
Let him have it, Marge.
Sweetheart, I didn’t want to deceive you.
I just couldn’t stand to see the disappointment
in your beautiful eyes.
That’s it, Marge.
Slap him good.
-(grunts) -Ooh.
Zack, you’re not trying
to help our marriage.
You’re trying to split us up.
I’d rather have a chubby hubby than a sexy exy.
Aw, Marge, if there was a reality show
called Fat Guys Who Really Love Their Wives,
not only would it be an enormous ratings success,
but I’d be the first one on it.
Aw...
Marge,
you’ve given me a lot to think about today.
Now, if you’ll excuse me,
I’m going to the editing room to make you look insane.
To the post-production trailer!
(lute music continues)
Ugh!
Where is this music coming from?
(whimpering)
Get off me!
(gasping)
His foot is caught in my button hole.
I almost flicked
an innocent butterfly.
Bart, we’re turning into monsters.
Cool.
No, not cool.
We have to do the right thing and come clean.
Listen, world, we killed Martin Prince!
That’s all I needed to hear.
You almost got away with it,
but here’s where you got sloppy:
shouting out that you did it.
Oh, man, I’m too pretty to go to jail.
You don’t know how lucky you are.
(annoyed grunt)
I’m just glad it was you who brought us in, Nelson.
Remember when we used to date?
If you let me go, we can get back together.
I never let you cherry- bomb my Malibu Stacy.
I’ll let you do it now.
Save it for the warden.
Please,
keep it down around the newborns.
-(all scream) -To quote Mark Twain,
"rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated."
Yeah, and rumors of your wussiness
are a hundred percent true.
Now tell us how you survived the fall.
For years I’ve worn underwear
with a wedgie-accommodating waistband.
On that fateful day,
these mighty whiteys saved my life.
(grunting)
Malheureusement, I landed
right next to a cougar’s lair.
He saw me as easy prey.
(roars)
I feared death was a certainty
until I was saved by simple physics.
(screaming)
Huh?
I landed on a small isle in the middle of a murky lake.
I spent an hour fashioning an escape raft
and three days crafting this modesty skirt.
(giggling happily)
-(grunts) -Ow.
Well, it’s good to have you alive, Dorkburger,
and as for you two, I hope you learned your lesson.
I learned that beneath my goody two-shoes
lie some very dark socks.
And I learned that killing a nerd
is not as fun as it sounds.
There is just one more thing.
You folks have a good night now.
(Sunday Mystery Movie theme music playing)
Captioned by VISUAL DATA
Shh!
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