CHORUS: ♪ The Simpsons ♪
(bell ringing)
(playing the blues)
(honking horn)
D'oh! (screams)
ANNOUNCER: And now, the conclusion of our Thousand Dollar Movie,
Roger Corman's Titanic.
(screeches to a halt)
-(passengers scream) -(tinny clink)
We're safe now, Clarice.
We made it away from that cursed ship.
Now I can relax and take off this stifling bikini.
-(struggling) -Mmm.
-(dramatic music playing) -(metallic grinding)
Look out! Behind you!
ANNOUNCER: We'll return for the remainder of the conclusion
after these messages.
Well, I'd rather get a message
than see another lousy commercial.
(electronic voice) People of Earth,
we have traveled all the way from space
to attend the most astro-tastic event
in the entire universe.
(deejay voice) You said it, Phil.
It's the Bi-Monthly Springfield Sci-Fi Convention.
ALIEN 1: That's right. It's BI-MON-SCI-FI-CON.
Come meet all your favorite stars.
Mark Hamill!
Alf!
And many more!
ALIEN 2: Plus tag-team robot wrestling.
It's the mighty robots of Battlestar Galactica
versus the gay robots of Star Wars.
(grunts) Ow, ow! Stop!
Please, save me, R2!
(beeping)
C-3PO: Oh, you stupid little tramp.
-You're so boring. I hate you! -Ow, ow, ow!
Remember, it's BI-MON-SCI-FI-CON.
Be there... and be square.
Well, beats work.
Yup. Beats school.
Sorry, we're all full.
(roaring)
Are you sure this is a sci-fi convention?
It's full of nerds.
-Hi, Lisa. -Hey, Lisa.
-Guten tag! -Hi. (chuckles sheepishly)
People, people!
This man has actually been in outer space.
Ha! Nobody cares.
This is one small step towards firing your ass!
Hey, wait. I saw that Lost In Space movie.
You are not Dr. Smith.
Oh, the pain, the pain... The pain of it all!
(laughing)
You have still got it, Dr. Smith.
Silence, you nickel-plated nitwit.
My dear boy, I'd be happy to show you my resume.
If you'd care to meet me later in the food court...
Danger, danger, Bart Simpson!
Someone has mixed an Amazing Spider-Man in
with the Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man series.
This will not stand.
Pardon me, but I wish to tender
a serious cash offer for this stack of water-damaged Little Lulus.
(groans) "A," that is not water,
it is diet Mr. Pibb. And "B," I... Oh.
Uh...
Tell me, how do you feel about 45-year-old virgins
who still live with their parents?
Comb the SweeTarts out of your beard and you're on.
Don't try to change me, baby.
-(shrill feedback) -Welcome, futurists,
cyberphiles, and the rest of you dateless wonders.
(cheering)
And now to push this convention into hyperspace,
the man who put the "star" in Star Wars,
a real burr under Darth Vader's saddle,
Luke Skywalker himself, Mark Hamill.
(cheering)
Hey, thanks everybody.
You know, I'm here today as Luke Skywalker,
but I'm also here to talk about Sprint.
As you can see, you stand to save upto 17 cents a month
over the more dependable providers.
(exclaims) Talk about Star Wars.
ALL: Yeah, yeah!
You stupid nerds!
He's trying to save you money on long distance!
Star Wars, huh? Well, let me ask you this.
How many of you have ever dreamed of being in that movie?
(cheers and applause)
Well, you're in luck,
'cause we're going to act out a scene
and I'll need a volunteer to play Obi Wan.
-Kenobi? -Right here, right here.
(crowd murmurs excitedly)
Mark, Mark, Mark, Mark, pick me!
My whole life has been leading to this moment.
Ah, like hell it has.
If anybody's going to play Obi, it's me.
All right, step away, foolish amateurs.
Just keep back. Keep out of it. The role is mine.
With the acting and the groupies and the "Luke, Luke, save me",
with the light saber and the... (imitating light saber)
That's not how you... (imitates light saber)
(shouts)
(all shouting)
We're doomed! Doomed!
(screaming)
Oh, God, can't this town go one day without a riot?
Ya! Gadzooks. Where are my bodyguards?
Is there anything fluffier than a cloud?
If there is, I don't want to know about it.
MAN: Oh, dear! Oh, my!
We're screwed. Use your light saber.
What, and break it?
You know, George Lucas makes me pay for these.
Take him! He's the one you want!
Not the hair! Back off, you freaking dweebs.
Oh, poor Mark Hamill.
(gasps) That swarm of nerds is going to kill him.
(grunting)
(shouting) Nerds!
Get out of there! (grunting)
Mr. Hamill, Mr. Mayor, come on!
-Who are you? -Homer Simpson, nerd buster,
and I'm getting you out of here.
(groans) I can't, Homer.
I twisted my ankle.
You guys go on without me!
Never! (grunting)
Follow me.
(grunts)
(strains)
How was I supposed to know it's not a real spaceship?
BART: Dad, over here!
(panting)
Oh, my God! Someone has to go back in for Maggie.
Forget Maggie. She's gone.
I've got Maggie.
Wow, that was close.
Well, thanks a lot, Homer.
Well, it's all... Hey, I thought you twisted your ankle.
Oh, yeah.
Well, see, the thing about that is...
(screaming)
-(fire alarm ringing) -(people screaming)
(groaning)
Hey, boss, we were just talking about you.
You call yourselves bodyguards? You're fired!
Fired, huh? (chuckles)
Who else you going to find to take a bullet for you?
Or have his genitals hooked up to a car battery?
-I'll tell you who, him! -Whoo-hoo!
Homer, I don't think you were listening to what he just--
I said, "Whoo-hoo."
(grumbles)
As a bodyguard, your only loyalty is to your protectee.
Not to your family. Not to your country.
Not to Mu-hammad.
Even during Ramadan?
Shut your sass-hole, boy.
These melons represent your protectees.
Throughout this course,
you will protect your personal melon
as if it was paying your salary.
What?
Okay, listen up!
My goal is to assassinate that watermelon.
Your job is to take the bullet. Go!
-(gasps and panting) -Go, go, go.
Pow.
No...
Well, your dive wasn't bad,
but I just didn't believe your "no."
You got to sell it.
Remember, your "no" is what gets you your next job.
Now drop and give me 20.
No!
Better.
You ladies are without a doubt
the most sorrowful clique at the dance.
Not one of you fit to guard a Russian rock band.
However, your checks have cleared,
so you all graduate. Congratulations.
(cheering)
And now, in honor of your achievement,
here is the theme song from the hit motion picture,
The Bodyguard.
♪ And I ♪
♪ Will always love you ♪
Yee-haw!
-Clear! -Oh, for Pete's sake.
The pig is in the poke.
You know, I really don't care for that code name.
-(Snowball meows) -Look out, Marge! Cat!
-(grunting) -(Snowball meows)
I know you're excited about starting a new job,
but could you just relax for now?
Hold it. What's your clearance?
We just want to get a snack.
Access denied.
-But Da... -(both moaning)
Homer, I don't want you using your new sleeper hold
on the children.
They'll be fine in half an hour.
That's not the point.
And another thing,
I asked you to take out the garbage three days ago
and you still haven't... (moaning)
Hmm, still half an hour till dinner.
Oh, well... (moaning)
Ow!
It's a real honor to be guarding your body, sir.
Just remember, you represent the office of the Mayor.
So always comport yourself in a manner befitting...
Quick, honk at that broad!
-(car horn blowing) -(wolf whistle)
Good work, Simpson.
I couldn't be happier with the way that went.
Hey, Homer, I told you not to come around here no more
till you paid your tab
or at least cleaned up that mess you made
in the bathroom. (stammering)
Mayor Quimby? Uh...
Homer, why didn't you say you was with the Mayor?
Shove off, puke-holes! Get out of there!
These stools are reserved for the Mayor and his cronies.
Ha! Here's a couple of Duffenbraus, on the house, of course.
Mmm! Semi-imported.
-Keep them coming. -(sighs)
Your generosity is greatly appreciated.
Especially during this health inspection season.
Oh, yeah, yeah, right. Health inspection.
That reminds me... (chuckles)
Your change, sir.
We're working on that roach situation, I swear to God.
Ah, you should see the hospital.
(bottles clinking)
And after Moe's, we went to Krusty Burger,
and the Mayor got some more change,
and I ordered a double-double,
but they gave me the double-double-double-double.
And then Apu gave the Mayor lots of change for--
Dad, don't you see what's going on?
That "change" was a bribe.
Oh, honey, don't be so naive.
That's how the world works.
Sure, the Mayor takes a few bribes,
but he also makes the trains run on time.
No, he doesn't.
Trains are regulated by the Federal Department of Transportation.
And recent studies have shown that... (moaning)
Homer!
Thank you, Mayor Quimby
for honoring us with the school milk concession.
Well, the good children of Springfield need their milk.
And I need my... (coughing and clears throat)
Please accept this kickback as a token of our esteem.
Thank you, Fat Tony.
However, in the future,
I would prefer a nondescript briefcase
to the sack with a dollar sign on it.
So, how did you get the nickname "Legs"?
Well, that's an interesting story. (chuckles)
It seems, President Kennedy's father was--
Ooh! Mini-cannolis!
Hey, I called that!
I saw it first. Come back here. (growling)
Hmm. "Milking Room."
-I hope you cows are decent. -(squeaking)
(gasps) Oh! Crap on a crutch!
(screams)
(screams) They're milking rats!
Milking rats!
Rats? I'm outraged.
You promised me dog or higher.
(exclaims and gasps)
(gulping)
-Ugh! -(gulping)
-(gagging) -(gulping)
(retching sounds)
(sucking)
Bart, no!
Hey, my milk,
I traded my math book for that.
Dad! What a nice surprise.
(retching noise)
Oh, get that away from me!
Kids, I don't want you drinking any more milk, ever!
Can I still drink it?
-Go nuts. -All right!
(gulping)
(gagging)
You monster! How could you do that to the children?
Those wacky gangsters. What are you going to do?
And to think I respected you!
And defended you!
You wouldn't even be alive if it wasn't for me!
-(shouts) -(screaming)
(gasps) Okay, we'll call it even.
Oh, my God, I killed the Mayor.
All right, stay calm.
I'll just use the body to stage an elaborate farce
-a la Weekend at Bernie's. -Help! Help!
(gasps) His corpse is climbing the building!
I'm alive, you idiot. Pull me in!
Wait a second.
I'm not saving you unless you promise
to get that rats' milk out of the schools.
But the gangsters will kill me.
You're forgetting,
you've got the best bodyguard in the business.
Now promise, or I'll let you fall to your death.
All right, all right. I promise.
Shake on it.
(screams)
Relax. You're in good hands.
Now, come on, I'll pull you up.
Wait, wait, wait, wait. Not so fast.
I can see into the interns' restroom from here.
(groans) Did you know that this is how F.D.R. met Eleanor? Ah!
All right, pull me up.
Six queens. Read 'em and weep.
Not so fast.
Seven queens.
Freeze, Goombahs!
We're shutting you down, you filthy Italians!
-(whispering) -Oh, right, right.
Filthy Italian-Americans!
Gentlemen, if you would simply consult
my dear friend Mayor Quimby,
I am confident this can be--
Not this time, Fat Tony.
The Mayor's office is not for sale!
(all laughing)
Can you, uh, edit out the laughs?
I am not so much disappointed as I am blinded with rage.
Ooh! The mafia guy's all mad.
Oh, what are you going to do? Call your Godfather?
Huh? "Oh, Godfather..."
(fake whimpering)
Break it down.
It's pure.
Pull the plug, boys.
Run free, little vermin.
The city is yours.
And so, as the rats' milk is returned to the sewers,
the circle of life is complete.
Uh, Fat Tony, do you have any comment?
I don't get it.
Everyone loves rats.
But they don't want to drink the rats' milk?
Hmm. Any words for the Mayor?
Hello, Mayor Quimby.
I would like to remind you that accidents will happen.
Like the killing of you by us.
Aren't you scared, Dad?
I mean, if I were Fat Tony, and, God willing, someday I will be,
I'd just be stewing in my jail cell getting madder and madder.
Oh, don't worry about that, boy.
He's already out on bail.
Well, I'm off to work.
You're guarding the Mayor tonight?
After Fat Tony swore revenge?
It's my duty, Marge.
Besides, those mobsters don't scare me.
-Bart, would you go start Daddy's car? -Homer!
What? There's nothing to worry about.
Well, then you start it.
All right, fine. I'll take a cab.
(doorbell ringing)
Homer, I'm not sure it's wise to go out right now.
I was thinking of a quiet evening at home
with the, uh... (sighs) wife.
Oh, I get it. You're worried about those mobsters, aren't you?
No, no. I truly do want to stay home
with the... (sighs) wife.
You got to snap out of this funk, Mayor.
I'm going to take you someplace where you can relax
and forget all about gangsters.
-Uh, excuse me. -Yes?
Do you have a table for the Mayor?
Yes!
Why do you talk that way?
I had a stroke.
Dear Lord, please make tonight's production
better than Othello with Peter Marshall.
HOMER: Okay, Mr. Burns, Fat Tony,
what's-his-name... Fat Tony? (gasps)
(exclaims)
All right, Fat Tony. If it's trouble with Quimby you're after--
Please, I am only here as a devotee of the lively arts.
But I do have something for the Mayor
that perhaps you could deliver.
Mayor, Fat Tony asked me to give you this.
You moron! That's the kiss of death!
Oh, no! Wait.
Maybe I didn't do it right.
Never mind that. Just go patrol the perimeter.
Ah! Au gratin potatoes.
That's a quality side.
Uh... No!
(gulps)
Potatoes are clean. The poison must be in the steak.
♪ Guys and dolls ♪
♪ We're just a bunch of crazy guys and dolls ♪
♪ Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah ♪
♪ Guys and dolls... ♪
This is a conceptual nightmare.
I mean, Nathan Detroit would never wear this.
And this song isn't even in the show.
I don't have time for this.
I got 75 shortcakes to strawberry.
Now get out there, Luke.
(sighs)
♪ Guys and dolls ♪
♪ We're just a bunch of crazy guys and dolls ♪
♪ Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah... ♪
I want the Mayor dead.
I want his wife dead.
I want his cat and his dog dead.
Whoa, whoa. Wait, wait, wait.
Who was before the cat?
(sighs)
Just kill the Mayor.
You're not mad at me, are you?
♪ Luke, be a Jedi tonight ♪
♪ Just be a Jedi tonight ♪
♪ Do it for Yoda while we serve our guests a soda ♪
♪ Uh, and do it for Chewie and the Ewoks ♪
♪ And all the other puppets ♪
♪ Luke, be a Jedi tonight... ♪
Hey, you're in this number.
Get out there and shake that moneymaker.
But I'm just here to kill... Ah!
That guy with the knife sure can dance, huh?
He looks awfully familiar.
I think I saw him in Rent, or Stomp,
or Clomp, or some piece of crap.
(cheering and applause)
Hey, pal, that's my headshot up there
next to the pepper steak, and don't you forget it.
You're all talk, Hamill.
You never even finished Jedi school.
-(grunts) -(groans) Oh!
-Show's over, Mayor. -Look out! (grunts)
-(groaning and grunting) -Ah!
-Give... Give me that knife! -No. It's mine.
(whimpering)
Homer... use... the for--
-The force? -The forks.
-Use the forks! -Oh.
(both grunting and straining)
-(screams) -Ya!
-(grunts) -(screams)
Yes!
Nobody messes with the Mayor when Homer Simpson's on...
Oh, crap.
Oh, Fat Tony.
What? What did I do?
I checked with the doctor.
He said Mayor Quimby's going to be fine.
And I was electric as Nathan Detroit.
What did you think of me?
Well, I'd say you were luminous, magnetic... (sighs)
incandescent.
Oh, cheer up, Homer.
I think you made a great bodyguard.
Really? Would you say I was magnetic?
-Absolutely. -Aw.
-REPORTER: Mr. Skywalker! -(groans)
Homer, I think you know what to do.
(grunting)
-Shoot! I forgot my light saber. -(groans) all right.
(grunting)
-Oh, wait. Here it is. -(groans and grunts) Get out of the way!
♪ I will always ♪
♪ Love you ♪
♪ I will always ♪
♪ Love you ♪
♪ I will always love you ♪
♪ I... I will always ♪
♪ Love you... ♪
Shh.
Captioned by Visual Data Media Services