CHORUS: ♪ The Simpsons ♪
(theme music playing)
(bell ringing)
(whistle blows)
(beeping)
(playing the blues)
(tires screeching)
(clanks)
(tires screeching)
(honking horn)
(tires screeching)
-D'oh! (screams) -(tires screeching)
ALL: (screaming)
♪ O'er the land of the free ♪
♪ And the home ♪
♪ Home of the brave ♪
♪ Oh, America's The home of the brave ♪
♪ The brave, America the brave ♪
♪ The brave ♪
♪ Home of the brave ♪
Thank you, Springfield!
I love you! Peace!
CONROY: Thank you, Cyndi Lauper.
Just a reminder, folks. We do have a baseball game today.
-MAN: All right. -(chuckles)
I am Dennis Conroy,
and here come your Isotopes!
-CROWD: (booing) -(all gasping)
Let's welcome two new additions to the team,
Smash Diggins and Fishbone Walker.
Lucky for us, they were sent down
from the Majors for drug violations.
(crowd cheering)
Oh, stupid Isotopes.
Hurry up and lose so we can get out of here!
Why do you hate the Isotopes so much, Dad?
Because I loved them once and they broke my heart.
Let that be a lesson to you, sweetie.
Never love anything.
-Even you? -Especially me.
But you've got to support the team, Dad.
They're already threatening to move to Moose Jaw.
That's right.
Like my mother always said,
"You've got to stick it out
even if you picked a loser..."
-Hmm. -"...to the bitter end."
CONROY: First pitch of the game.
(screams)
That's a rotator cuff.
His career is over.
I'm going to warm up the car.
But there's only been one pitch.
And it sucked.
CONROY: Bases loaded,
two outs, bottom of the ninth,
and it's do or die.
HOMER (singing): ♪ Hitler is a jerk ♪
♪ Mussolini ♪
That'll bring up Babe Ruth IV.
'Course, he's no Babe Ruth III,
but the franchise is very excited
about this illegitimate great grand bambino!
And... what's this?
He's pointing to the right field bleachers,
probably at a dying little boy.
-Mom, am I dying? -No, of course not.
-Is he, Mom? You can tell me. -No.
CONROY: Now he's pointing to the ground.
Is he indicating a bunt? Yes, he's bunting!
(crowd booing)
MARGE: Good hustle, kid!
HOMER (singing): ♪ No, it doesn't work ♪
So who won? The losers?
No, they lost.
(chuckling) Losers.
But only by two points, and they didn't resort
to stealing bases like the other team,
so it's kind of a moral victory.
With a little middle relief,
they might even make the playoffs!
You'll be in your cold, cold grave
before that ever happens.
Homer, would you please
stop talking about the childrens' graves?
(loud chatter, cheering)
-MAN: Whoo! -(grunts)
What's the hubbub?
Did Moe finally blow his brains out?
Quiet! We're watching the Isotopes!
Shut it off. They're losers.
Where you been? The Isotopes are on fire.
Yeah. That sniper at the all-star game
was a blessing in disguise.
Now we're in the championship game.
Championship? Hmm.
Whoo! 'Topes rule!
Well, here's a die-hard fan.
Sir, your beloved Isotopes
are about to make history.
Any thoughts?
Ah! It's a great team, Kent.
They never gave up hope.
I want to thank Jesus
and say "Hi" to my special lady, Marge.
We did it, baby! Whoo! Whoo!
The inspiring words of a fan
who'll always root, root, root for the home team,
even if they lose this game.
They lost? Those losers!
No, no, no. The game's not over.
Whoo! Not over! Whoo!
There you have it. Whoo!
(all cheering)
CONROY: Bottom of the ninth, two outs.
It all comes down to this.
And here's the pitch.
Humping Hesus. He got all of that one.
It's going... going... going.
Our technical director today was Stan Kadlubowski.
It's out of here! 'Topes win!
-(all cheering) -Isotopes! Come on!
(cheering continues)
(sighs) Nobody touched my rumaki.
Whoo! Rumaki!
-(honking) -Yay!
Isotopes! Whoo!
(grunts)
-Isotopes. -(grunts)
MAN: Isotopes.
You know what I'm sayin' to you, baby?
Hey, a baseball field. Batter up.
-(all yelling) -MAN: Go, baby! Steal second!
I think I'm going to puke!
-Hey, who's on first? -Touchdown!
BARNEY: Slide!
(tires screeching)
-HOMER: Safe! -(all cheering)
(cheering continues)
Hey, Carl. Isotopes!
(all groaning, grunting)
(drunkenly) ♪ We are the champions ♪
♪ You got mud on your face Big disgrace ♪
-(screams) -Whoop! Careful.
(munching)
Wow! You look really hungover, Dad.
What did you do last night?
Last night? Uh, um...
Hmm, huh. Hello, Big Maggie.
Yes! Yes! Yes!
Someone trashed the school.
What the dilly-yo?
Where this morning,
the three "Rs" stand for
"rowdiness, ransacking
and irresponsibility."
-Any suspects, chief? -None.
That's why we're jumping to the conclusion
that this was the work of no-good, punk kids.
Kids?
Therefore, effective immediately,
I am imposing a curfew.
Any kid caught on the street after dark will be shot,
or returned to their parents as the situation may warrant.
-(gasps) Curfew? -Whoa!
Serves you little punks right.
So, maybe next time, you'll think before--
Oh, my God!
Look what those rotten kids did to my car! (crying)
The cops can't just slap a curfew on us.
-We have rights. -Sure, you do.
You have the right to remain silent.
(both laughing)
That was cold-blooded, Marge.
-Yeah. -But it's not fair.
Adults always blame kids for everything.
Well, if kids are so innocent,
why is everything bad named after them?
Acting childish, kidnapping, child abuse.
What about adultery?
Not until you're older, son.
(children giggling)
Okay, go deep!
Ice cream truck!
Hey, quit pushing!
I was here first!
Get out of my way!
(soft tune playing)
(exclaiming)
-(siren wailing) -(tires screeching)
Achtung, babies!
Curfew is in effect.
Return to your homes, immediately.
(screaming)
All right, let's see some IDs, boys.
Huh. You two scofflaws are violating curfew.
I'm taking you downtown.
Oh, uh, sorry to disturb you, Dr. Hibbert.
(deep voice) Not at all, officer.
(laughing like Hibbert)
Hah! What a beautiful night. Fireflies, full moon.
And here we are, locked inside.
Kids, the carnival's in town for one night only.
And they've got cotton candy and hats with feathers.
And there's no lines
because all the stupid kids have curfew, so...
Oh, right. Sorry.
(giggling)
-Hmm. -(sighs)
Why don't you kids play one of your old board games?
When was the last time you played Citizenship?
-BART: Energy Shortage. -LISA: Hippo in the House?
MARGE: Ooh! The Game of Lent.
Oh, can't we just go to bed?
It's only 5:30.
Fine. We'll play Hippo in the House .
Oh, the hippo's missing.
(both groaning)
You think that's bad?
I had to talk to my mom all night.
She's got problems. Scary problems.
Adults blow.
Yeah. Just look at them over there.
Smoking their cigarettes.
Drinking their coffee.
Scratching their big butts.
Your metabolism will change someday, too, young man.
(mutters, clears throat)
That ought to show little Timmy and Tammy scumbag
who's in charge around here.
Gee, chief, all those gears and motors
must have cost a fortune.
Well, you got to spend money to make money, Lou.
Uh-huh.
(yawning) You want to hold it for a while?
Nah.
MARGE: (humming)
Marge. Kite.
Hey, there is one thing we could do.
-(music playing on TV) -(gasps) Lise, no. It's prime time!
You robbed me of my manhood.
That's petty theft.
(audience exclaiming)
Don't go there.
(audience laughing, applauding)
Don't Go There will be right back.
-Oh, no. It won't. -Wait, there's a commercial.
(spooky music plays)
-Ah, oh... yeah. -Whoa.
MALE NARRATOR: 40 years ago,
a film appeared that was so shocking,
so terrifying, it was sealed in a concrete vault
deep beneath the earth.
But even the new management of Sony/TriStar
could not contain the pure evil
of The Bloodening.
(woman screaming)
Milhouse, do you see what's on channel six?
Uh, yeah, it-it's really something.
(gasps)
MALE NARRATOR: A registered nurse trained
in the treatment of terror
will be on duty during the showing of...
The Bloodening.
(evil laughter)
(normal voice) Now playing at the Springfield drive-in...
after dark.
Milhouse, spread the word.
We're seeing this movie, tonight.
That's right. We're breaking curfew.
(both grunting)
Come on.
(grunting)
-Breaking curfew, Mom! -WOMAN: We're out of skoal!
Due to the likelihood of fear-induced heart attacks,
we're offering all patrons million-dollar life insurance policies.
Life insurance? Hmm.
Will I be able to borrow against the equity?
Uh, I don't know, sir. It comes free with the popcorn.
Is that air-popped?
MAN: Skinner!
-We're losing valuable make-out time. -WOMAN: (groans)
(grunts)
-Little help. -Sure.
(grunts)
-(groans) -(grunts)
-Lisa. -Nelson.
CHORUS (singing): ♪ Let's all go to the lobby ♪
♪ To get ourselves some drinks ♪
Get off of my moor, you mischievous weans.
Actually, we'd prefer to stay.
You're thinking about hurting us.
(groans)
Now you're thinking,
"How did they know what I was thinking?"
Now you're thinking,
"I hope that's shepherd's pie in my knickers."
(groans)
(screaming)
-Wow! -They showed him.
Man, I never liked Shakespeare until now.
Right, you little blighters.
We've had quite enough of your evil mischief.
But you're the one who's been bad.
You've been sneaking puddings.
But-but, how did you know?
We know all your secrets.
-And you pilfered the poor box. -(gasps)
And, doctor, we know that you and the bootblack
have been rogering the fishwife in the crumpet shop.
-(blows raspberry) -(gasps)
-Lies! How dare you! -Get them! Quickly!
We can't have that.
(gasps)
(grunts)
-Take that, you suckers! -Way to go!
In your face, fishwife.
(thud)
Enjoying the movie, kids?
ALL: (screaming)
Listen up, punks.
The moral of the story is,
the adults always win.
(yells)
Stop crying out loud, Eddie, you scared the hell out of me.
Sorry, chief. (evil chuckle)
KIDS: (groaning)
CLANCY WIGGUM: Don't forget to clean under the jowls.
That spot is club med for mildew.
And let this be a lesson to you.
Kids never learn. (grunts)
(tires screeching)
(all coughing, retching)
Oh, that is it.
I'm tired of being pushed around by grownups.
It's time to fight back!
ALL: Yeah! Fight back!
Man, if we had eye power like those kids in that movie,
we could read the adults' mind and tell their secrets,
and make them pitchfork each other and junk.
(laughing, cheering)
Wait! We don't need supernatural powers.
-We already know their secrets. -She's right.
Homer's done a ton of crap that never made the papers.
My mom shoplifts all the time,
stuff she doesn't even need.
My dad gets in car accidents on purpose.
Great. This is all gold.
MILHOUSE: We got to spread this stuff around.
Let's put it on the Internet.
BART: No, we have to reach people
whose opinions actually matter,
and I think I know how.
Why don't we just...
(chatter)
Attention, hemline and midriff monitors.
-(tapping) -Um.
-(squeaky sound) -(gasps)
Willie, get my Windex.
(snoring)
(cat meows)
200 channels, and nothing but cats.
So, Marge, ready for another episode
of Don't Go There?
I'm tired of that show,
but I've been hearing good things about Talk to the Hand.
Tom Shales says the writing snaps, crackles, and pops.
Okay, whatever takes my mind off my life.
(theme music playing) ♪ Talk to the hand, they say... ♪
Hey, look what I found.
Grandpa's old radio.
Oh, wouldn't it be grand to gather round
and have a listen?
Well, turn something on.
I'm starting to think.
(big band music)
(rock music)
FRANKLIN ROOSEVELT: A date which will live...
in infamy.
Good evening, adults. We interrupt this broadcast
to bring you a very special presentation.
Tonight's program is entitled...
KIDS: We Know All Your Secrets.
Boring.
Go back to that "infamy" guy.
BART: Constable Wiggum likes to act tough.
But he also likes to walk the beat
in control-top pantyhose.
(gasping)
Heh-heh! Well, heh,
it's not like that's a crime.
I'm afraid it is, chief.
-Um. -(handcuffs ratcheting)
BART: And Schoolmistress Krabapple
has been stealing supplies from the school cafeteria.
(gasps) Edna, how could you?
Don't get up. I'll bus my own tray.
BART: And now we come to Mr. Homer Simpson.
(gasps)
Did you know, he likes to eat
out of the Flanders' garbage?
Oh, no. Homer.
I have a problem.
Tune in tomorrow and every day
until the curfew is lifted
because we'll be revealing embarrassing secrets about
Springfield's other adults.
Well, at least they've already done me.
And we have plenty more on Homer Simpson.
D'oh!
I've called this meeting to determine
what to do about those blabbermouth kids
and their creepy English accents.
Hey, shut up, Mayor. They're telling secrets again.
ALL: (gasp)
Oh, I hope they don't reveal this is a comb-over.
LISA (over radio): Our top secret tonight,
Gay divorcee Luanne Van Houten
has been cheating on her boyfriend, Pyro...
-CROWD: (gasp) -...with his best friend, Gyro.
How many times have I fought beside you, Gyro?
And this is how you repay me?
(both grunting)
Pyro, Gyro, settle down.
Can't we shut down that infernal transmitter?
-Can't we just blow it up? -You go ahead, girlfriend.
(chattering)
-Settle down, people. -(gavel banging)
As we speak, Chief Wiggum is tracking down
those little squealers using the latest
in crime-fighting technology.
Ah, I got nothing. How about you, frinky?
I have captured the signal,
and am presently triangulating the vectors
and compressing the data down
in order to express it as a function of my hand.
They're over there.
And guess who's been practicing medicine
without a license?
(gulps)
That's right. Homer Simpson.
Freeze, you little shock jocks.
(guns cocking)
Brilliant.
They transduced amplitude modulation
via the concavity of that over-sized beverage conveyance.
I mean, that is some clever goyvin.
All right, you kids, come down now.
We promise, we won't kill you.
Speak for yourself. Bart, get down here!
I'm going to spank you back to the Stone Age.
You can't make us come down.
You adults are always giving us orders.
Well, you kids are always disobeying them.
Well, adults treat kids like children.
Kids treat adults like cash machines.
-Adults! Adults! Adults! -Kids! Kids! Kids!
(singing) ♪ Kids, you've had your fun ♪ Now we've had our fill ♪
♪ Yeah, you're only here 'Cause Marge forgot her pill ♪
(sneers)
♪ Kids, you're all just ♪
♪ Scandalizing, vandalizing punks ♪
♪ Channel-hoppin', Ritalin-poppin' monkeys ♪
But please don't quit the fan club.
♪ Kids, I can nag and nag ♪
♪ Till my hair turns blue ♪
♪ Kids, you bum my smokes And don't say thank you ♪
♪ Why can't you be like we are? ♪
♪ Oh, what a bunch of brats ♪
♪ We ought to drown you just like cats ♪
(cat meows)
♪ Adults, you run our lives ♪
♪ Like you're Colonel Klink ♪
♪ Adults, you strut around like your farts don't stink ♪
♪ Adults, you're such a drooling, snoring ♪
♪ Boozing, boring bunch ♪
♪ Surly, meanie, Three-martini lunchers ♪
I just ate a thumbtack.
♪ Adults, they're always telling us to-- ♪
Shut your traps!
♪ Eh, we're fed up with all of you whippersnaps ♪
♪ We're tryin' to get some sleep here ♪
♪ It's almost 6:15 ♪
♪ What's the matter with ♪
♪ Don't you treat us like ♪
♪ Can't you just lay off ♪
♪ We're sick of all of you ♪
ADULTS: ♪ Kids... to... day... ♪
We're going to teach all you rugrats a lesson.
Oh, yeah? (blows raspberry)
What can you old people do to us?
-Yeah, you old fogies. -Buzz off, you old buzzards.
(chatter)
...iron you.
This is Kent Brockman reporting from my own home
in accordance with a new curfew
for anyone under 70.
-(growls) I can't believe that passed. -(Homer speaking inaudibly)
I warned you guys that seniors always vote in record numbers.
The controversial measure passed by a single vote.
Um, you really should have voted, Homer.
Pfft. It wouldn't have made a difference.
Lights out, you punk kids!
Yay! We took back the night!
MAN: Hey, fellas!
Hey, you wanna stop with the kicking?
My pills are in that can.
Good gravy.
I don't kick your things.
When you're trying to breathe on the machine,
do I go up and kick it?
Oh, now, look at that. It went down the sewer.
You're happy? I'm gonna sue now.
Now it's time for the lawyers.
(theme music playing)
Shh.
MAN: Don't tell me to shush, you stupid lady!
Captioned by Visual Data Media Services