CHORUS: ♪ The Simpsons ♪
(theme music playing)
(bell ringing)
(whistle blows)
(beeping)
(playing the blues)
(jazzy solo)
(chimes)
(tires screeching)
(honking horn)
D'oh!
(screaming)
(tires screeching)
LISA: How much farther to the campground?
Let's see, judging from the bug buildup
we're getting close.
I'm not sure mosquito season
is the best time to visit Larva Lake.
(tires screech)
Folks, you're gonna want to turn around.
The bugs are firmly in charge.
-What? -Please, just go.
They've taken the Visitors' Center.
(stammers) They ate the comment book!
All right. Geez.
(buzzing)
(screaming)
Ay! Hey! My class ring!
Oh, thanks a lot.
Hey, an Indian casino.
HOMER: God bless Native America.
(tires screech)
Let's go, Marge. Come on, come on, come on.
Homer, you know I had a gambling problem.
Well, what better place to celebrate your recovery
than amidst the frenzied excitement
of the casino floor?
Hmph.
Lisa?
Ah, something troubles me about Indian gaming.
On the one hand, the revenue helps the tribe...
HOMER: Sure we can't talk you into it?
-No minors. -Yeah, but I really want to--
Sorry, son.
Although they seem strange to us
we must respect the ways of the Indian.
(chanting) Hi-how-are-ya, hi-how-are-ya,
hi-how-are-ya, hi-how-are-ya.
(sighs) I got to get in that casino.
The Great Gabbo demands a free night
in the Presidential Suite while performing.
We'll give you a free pass to the pasta bar.
The Great Gabbo accepts your terms.
(gasps)
(Bart laughs)
Ooh.
(Bart laughing)
Quiet, Gabbo.
I'd like to introduce you to my little wooden friend.
He's in his box, pining away.
(laughing)
(banging)
Say hello to...
-(breathing heavily) -(gasping)
Gabbo, you've become a real boy!
All right!
Time for some underage gambling.
So long, sucker.
(exclaims)
Your linen service has broken many promises to us.
Laundry bills soar like eagle.
Jerk.
So...
You like to sneak into casinos.
I wasn't going to gamble.
I just wanted a Bloody Mary.
Listen to me.
Unless you change your deceitful ways
I foresee a life of bitterness and failure for you...
Bart Simpson.
How'd you know my name?
Your father just took out a second mortgage downstairs.
You're listed as collateral.
Oh, I thought maybe you were some kind of Indian mystic
who could tell the future.
Who says I'm not?
Whoa!
If you want to see your future
throw a treasured personal item into the fire.
OK. (exclaims)
(loud pop)
Not a firecracker!
Hey, I bought it from a guy on your reservation.
That's Crazy Talk.
-No, it's true. -No, I know.
That's my brother, Crazy Talk.
We're all a little worried about him.
Now, look into the flame.
Look ahead 30 years
to the man you will become.
BART: Ew, that's me in the future?
CASINO MANAGER: Quiet. You're about to say something.
(belches)
Check, check.
Hello, Capital City.
Oh, way to make a guitar, Sears.
Hey, Bart, any clean towels?
Nah. Use this.
I'm sick of having to dry myself with a newspaper.
You could at least do some laundry.
I pay the rent.
Dude, you know I'm good for it.
I'll have plenty of money when my lawsuit pays off.
You mean the spider bite at Disneyland?
Or the incident with the over-salted fries.
(knock at door)
Hologram for Bart Simpson.
Hey, dingus, your band can play at my club tonight.
Yes!
But I can only pay you in popcorn shrimp.
Smell you later.
I can't believe "smell you later"
replaced "good-bye."
Smell you later.
-Smell you later. -Smell you later.
All right, we got our first gig!
But you traded your amplifier for a Boogie Board.
No prob. I'll just mooch some green off my folks.
Should we take the hover bus or the non-hover bus?
Non-hover.
(gulping)
Bleh! This virtual fudge tastes like crap.
Mmm. Mmm. Not half as good as cyber-fudge.
Yo, it's me.
(screams)
Oh, what a bleak, horrible future we live in!
Don't you mean "present"?
Right, right, present.
Anyway, can I get you some Soylent Green?
Isn't that made of people?
Oh, here we go.
Hey, Dad. My band finally got a break.
I just need a little moolah to get my amp out of hock.
How about a little loan-ski?
Oh, I'm tired of giving you money.
Why can't you be more like Lisa?
Ugh. I am so sick of hearing about Lisa.
Just because she's doing a little better than me...
She's President of the United States.
President-elect.
I could have been president, but I'm too real.
People can't deal with what I'm laying down.
They're like, "Whoa, dude, you can't say that"
And I'm like, "Watch me."
We're not giving you money.
Oh, but I want some.
You should have thought of that
before you dropped out of the DeVry Institute.
What happened to you, man? You used to be cool.
I'm still cool.
Nah. You've changed, man.
Well, I do have this robotic prostate,
but you can't see it.
Oh, you can.
(ringing doorbell)
Flanders is a soft touch.
He'll give us the money for sure.
Jesus, is that you?
Mr. Flanders, you're blind-e-ded.
Ah, yeah, I never should have had that trendy laser surgery.
(laughs) It was great at first, but, you know,
at the ten-year mark your eyes fall out.
-Listen, dude... -Oh, hi, Bart.
How much this time?
Dude, you got me all wrong.
Yeah. (scoffs) Just answer me this.
Are you holding your mooching sack?
My little one.
Bart, you're never going to grow up
if I keep bailing you out.
Then, please, help me help myself.
Oh, all right,
but only because you haven't outed Rod and Todd.
Hey, y'all ready to party?
(electrical crackling)
(loud feedback)
Now, we'd like to play a Jimmy Buffet song,
but he un-coolly charges people to cover them.
So here's a Captain Bart...
Original.
(strumming guitar)
♪ Wasted once more ♪
♪ In Daquiritaville... ♪
Rip-off!
Get off the stage!
(angry shouting)
(glass shattering)
We need more power.
The shield won't hold much longer.
Oh, no, I've got half a beer in there
and Bewitched is on.
Now we've got no home, no money
and our band's going nowhere
and it's all your fault.
Smell you later, Bart.
Smell you later forever.
Oh, he's right.
I'm a loser.
There's only one way out of this mess.
(electrical surging)
From around the globe to your frontal lobe,
this is Brain Vision News.
Tonight's winning lotto number: 4-4-6.
Damn! I was so close.
I had 3-2-7.
In other news, President-elect Lisa Simpson
moves into the White House tomorrow.
The 17-bedroom home features free long-distance,
laundry service and three food kitchens.
So, I'm the President's no-good brother.
"Moochie-moochie."
Lisa's the President?
I'm a pathetic loser?
I got to be honest.
I'm not loving this vision.
The fire has more wisdom to impart to you
in three, two...
1596...
1598...
1600.
Sweet.
Excellent question.
Yes, I am proud to be
America's first straight female president.
-(reporters chattering) -Helen?
Wasn't I wearing a hat?
Yes. Yes, you were.
Now, in conclusion,
my administration will focus on the three R's--
Reading, writing, and refilling the ocean.
Thank you very much.
(shutter clicking)
As you know, we've inherited
quite a budget crunch from President Trump.
How bad is it, Secretary Van Houten?
We're broke.
The country is broke?
How can that be?
Well, remember when the last administration decided
to invest in our nation's children?
Big mistake.
The balanced breakfast program just created a generation
of ultra-strong super criminals.
And midnight basketball taught them
to function without sleep.
What about my pledge to build the world's largest bookmobile?
Isn't there any money left for that?
No. And we borrowed from every country in the world.
Quick, Lisa, call off your... (screams and thuds)
-Bart! -Ow! Watch the ponytail.
Let him up, please?
What are you doing here?
I knew you'd need some help keeping it real
so I figured I could be, like, your... co-president.
Co-president?
Are you crazy?
Mom, Lisa won't share!
Be nice to your brother, Lisa.
(groans)
(Homer chomping loudly)
Don't you think we should wait for Lisa?
She is the President.
She knows what time dinner is. (chomping)
("Hail To The Chief" playing)
Sorry I'm late. I've been racking my brain
trying to think of something to cut from the budget.
(whistling nonchalantly)
(all chomping)
Hey, where's Maggie?
Here she is...
And look how big she's gotten.
Aw, just like her mommy, Maggie Senior.
So, what did everyone do today?
Appointed a Supreme Court justice.
MARGE: Oh!
-Bewitched marathon. -MARGE: Mmm.
Searched for Lincoln's gold.
Dad, that's just a myth.
Lincoln didn't hide any gold in the White House.
Then what is his ghost protecting?
Hey, that's my helicopter.
Yeah, I sent it to pick up Ralph,
no one was using it.
I fell out two times.
Bart, you do not send a billion-dollar helicopter
to pick up your drinking buddy.
You've changed, Lisa, you used to be cool.
No, I didn't.
I am proud to honor the players of
the Negro Leagues of Rollerball
And as we strive
for the desegregation of all death sports,
we cannot help but be inspired by...
-BART: Heads. -(grunts)
Hey, you guys owe me a Frisbee... a new one.
Bart, get out of here.
Relax, Lis, you'll live longer.
I can't relax.
Being president is hard work.
Maybe you should try doing something with your life.
-I'm gonna. -Yeah, did you even call
about that messenger job?
Yeah, but they said I wouldn't get
my first check for two weeks.
Meanwhile, they're making major interest on my salary.
-Hey, maybe I could sue 'em. -(sighs)
HOMER: Four score and four,
four score and five, four score and six,
four score and seven paces. (grunts)
Wait! How do you know
this is where Lincoln buried the gold?
You just started counting from an arbitrary place.
I started what from a what?
Your plan makes no sense.
Gold bars discovered by Marge-- Zero.
Gold bars discovered by Homer...
Well, let's just see.
-(grunts) -Oops. Sorry, honey.
Gold bars discovered by Homer...
Shut up.
LISA: If I'm going to bail the country out,
I'll have to raise taxes.
But in my speech, I'd like to avoid
calling it a "painful emergency tax."
What about "colossal salary grab"?
See, that has the same problem.
We need to soften the blow.
Well, if you just want to out-and-out lie...
MILHOUSE: OK.
We could call it
a "temporary refund adjustment."
-I love it. -Really?
What else do you love, Lisa?
Fiscal solvency.
Oh... Yeah. Me, too.
Thirty seconds, Madam President.
Hey, Lis, I need a favor.
Not now, Bart. I'm about to speak to 100 million people.
This speech could make or break my presidency.
I hear you. All I want you to do
is play my demo tape in the background
while you're yakking about whatever.
Now, this play button is a little screwed up,
so you got to hold it down.
-Are you insane? -What?
You told me I should do something with my life.
Five seconds.
(loud crash)
Mom!
(clears throat) My fellow Americans
and voting illegal aliens,
I will not mince words.
Your country needs you.
That's why today I'm proposing a temporary refund adjustment.
"Refund"? Hey, sounds good to me.
Sure beats a tax.
We love you, President Simpson.
The months ahead will be long and arduous
But it is only through arduousity that--
(singing to the tune of "The Pina Colada Song")
♪ If you like refund adjustments ♪
♪ And the music I play ♪
♪ Send a check to my friend, Ralph ♪
♪ And he'll mail you a tape ♪
(laughs nervously)
Uh, this is my brother, Bart,
who doesn't seem to realize
this isn't the best time for his music.
He's one of the people I want to help with my programs.
Hey, Lis, my music is gonna make it a lot easier
for America to swallow your big tax hike.
-(gasps) -"Tax hike"?
Hold the phone, Mabel.
You know, I never trusted her.
Don't blame me.
I voted for Chastity Bono.
(singing to the tune of "Banana Boat Song")
♪ Daylight come and you want-a my tape ♪
♪ Tape! He say tape-o ♪
♪ Post office box 30452 ♪
Good night, America.
And we're out.
-Why you little... -(choking)
Help! Secret service!
(gasping and choking)
According to polls, Americans have emphatically said
"smell you later"
to President Simpson's refund adjustment.
And that's the news.
We'll smell you later at 11:00.
Thanks a lot, Bart.
All right. How do we pay off our foreign debt?
I'm afraid it looks pretty grim.
We're going to have to give them the amber waves of grain,
the purple mountains' majesty and the shores of Tripoli.
We don't own the shores of Tripoli.
Shh. By the time they find out
we'll have taken our cyanide pills.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Why don't we just invite our creditor nations here
and gently remind them of America's past generosity?
-(murmuring agreement) -Yeah, now that I like.
Oh, but Bart could screw everything up.
You want him eliminated?
No. Just keep him out of my hair.
Out of your hair with extreme severity?
-No. -Come on. Every president
gets three secret murders. If you don't use them
by the end of the term... Pbft! They're gone.
(door opens)
All right, which one of you suits
ran over my moped?
I just put a dollar's worth of gas in that thing.
Bart, we're having a meeting.
You had a meeting this morning.
I have a lot of meetings. I'm the President.
Of what? The United States of Dorksylvania? (snickers)
Don't leave me hanging, Greenspan.
You know something, Bart?
You're right. My lack of coolness
is really holding America back.
Thank you. Down low.
Too slow.
(laughs nervously) You're too much, Bart.
That's why I'm appointing you Secretary of Keeping It Real.
Wow. You're really asking for my help?
Absolutely.
I want you and your pals
to go away to Camp David
and write up a report on coolness.
Well, if my country needs me...
Can we skinny dip?
At Camp David? Sure.
They couldn't keep pants on Kissinger.
Phew.
(clamoring)
-MAN: Peace, peace. -BART: Settle down.
Settle down!
I invited you guys here to help me with this report.
Any ideas?
Let's start off with a joke.
I got one. Give me that.
Uh, "What's the difference
between Pakistan and a pancake?
I don't know any pancakes that were nuked by India."
Ha-ha.
What? Too soon?
Come on, people. We got to buckle down here.
When we're finished,
we can go through Bill Clinton's porno stash.
(all clamoring excitedly)
(sighs) Lisa's counting on me for this coolness report.
-Coolness report? -(gasps)
Huh! You been had, boy.
Billy Carter's ghost?
Damn straight, and I'm here to tell you
you've been sent on a wild goose chase.
You mean Lisa wanted to get rid of me?
Well, that's a big 10-4.
When my brother Jimmy was making peace in the Middle East,
He sent me to Belly Flop Academy.
-I guess I am an embarrassment. -You sure are.
And, hey, there's an embarrassment of riches
at the Caesar's Pow-Wow Indian Casino.
You can bet on it. (clicks tongue)
You put an ad in my vision?
Yeah, Crazy Talk came up with that.
He got idea from Dances with Focus Groups.
(grunting)
Marge, I did it! I found Lincoln's gold!
-(gasps) -Huh?
"Dear countryman,
you have come in search of my gold
-and I will not disappoint you." -Boy, oh, boy, oh, boy.
"My gold is in the heart of every freedom-loving American."
Aw, crap!
"It's in our mighty rivers, our majestic..."
Well, isn't that clever?
It's a metaphor.
That lying, rail-splitting,
theater-going freak! (groans)
-Pay your debt! -(speaks French)
We demand remittance.
Please! Calm down.
We can work something out.
(German accent) We Germans are not a warlike people,
but even we have limits.
Right! Let's bash her noggin.
-Yeah, get her! -That's the spirit!
BART: You guys should relax.
You'll live longer.
Bart, you're supposed to be at Camp David.
You're meeting with debt collectors
and you don't want my help?
Do you know how crazy that is?
Guys, the thing is, we totally have the money
and we tried to wire it to you,
but you know how banks screw up.
(French accent) I do not understand.
We tried to call you all day Saturday.
We were there Saturday.
Dude, I know.
I left a message with some guy named Hans.
Hans?
He might have been a temp. Very surly.
We have had a lot of turnover.
You pay now. Now!
What happened to you, China.
You used to be cool.
Hey, China is still cool.
You pay later. Later!
Solid. The rest of you,
go on home and look in your mailboxes,
'cause I totally remember sending checks out.
(murmuring agreement in different languages)
Thanks, Bart.
You bought us some time.
What can I do to thank you?
Legalize it.
Legalize what?
Oh. Oh, consider it done.
Tasty. That calls for some tune-skis.
(pop rock music playing)
-(warped music) -Oh, great.
Anyone have a paper clip?
It gets kind of hazy after that.
Why did a vision of my future
include a story about Homer and Lincoln's gold?
I guess the spirits thought
the main vision was a little thin.
Anyway, the point is
you still have the power to change your future.
I'll do my best.
You're a good kid.
Here's a coupon for some crab claws.
Hey, this is expired.
There you are.
Come on. We have to go.
Dad pushed a waitress, and Mom lost $20,000.
You're not going to believe it, Lis.
This cool Indian guy showed me our future.
Really? Anything good?
I'll say. I've got my own band
and a moped.
What about me?
Eh, some government job.
(theme music playing)
Shh!
BART: Moochie-moochie.
Captioned by Visual Data Media Services