CHOIR: ♪ The Simpsons ♪
(tires screech)
D’oh!
(screams)
(tires screech)
(wind blowing)
(British accent): Oh, hello.
I’m documentary filmmaker Declan Desmond.
32 years ago I interviewed
a group of Springfield schoolchildren.
(laughter, indistinct talking)
(gulping)
DECLAN: These children ran the gamut of society:
rich and poor, black and white,
"he’ll grow into his looks" and "forever hideous."
My dad was a circus freak, but my mom don’t remember which one.
I like to think it was a little bit of all of them.
DECLAN: Every eight years, I revisited those children,
creating a cinematic chronicle of their lives.
Join me, won’t you, to see dreams dissolve
like a muffin in the rain in...
In (reading):
(fanfare plays)
What does the future hold for these children?
Will he grow up to work in a robot factory?
Will she be the receptionist for a robot businessman?
And will he be a crusader for robo-sexual rights?
I say, "yes," "no," and "yes."
Whee!
DECLAN: So, Lenny, what have we here?
My daddy said I can have any birthday party I want.
My cake will be a picture of a dinosaur
and all the guests will say,
"Why, Lenny, that’s a fine cake!"
Then, "Yes," I’ll say.
DECLAN: I decided not to waste any more film on him after that.
I wish for world peace.
I wish for world war.
Oh, yeah, that would be cooler.
(grunts)
I wish when I grow up,
I’ll be richer than everybody!
(laughing)
I will! I will be rich!
I’ll own a football team and a basketball team
and I’ll make them play baseball!
But what became of these wide-eyed naives?
Let’s begin by following the life of little Clancy Wiggum.
Bang-bang! Bang!
Freeze, robber, freeze!
Bang, bang, bang!
(screaming)
It hurts! It hurts so bad!
Please, just put one in my brain!
(sighs)
Okay.
Uh, bang.
(groaning): Thank you.
As hall monitor, I am the law.
No running in the hall.
Ah, no running in the hall.
Hey, detention bird!
Thanks for not running in the hall.
(muffled yelling)
Go, Wildcats.
(gunshots)
DECLAN: At 24, Clancy Wiggum
was accepted into the police academy.
(clicking)
Hmm...
Wiggum!
What did I tell you about pointsy-towardsies?!
You seem a little cranky, Commandant.
A back rub’ll set you right.
There we go.
Ooh... okay.
Don’t be afraid to dig in there good!
(gunshot, thump)
Hey, what’s the matter, buddy? Need a backrub?
DECLAN: At 32, Officer Wiggum
had found the fast track to becoming chief.
Oh, yeah, oh, that’s the stuff.
Thanks for giving me an 8:30 appointment.
You are a lifesaver.
You know, uh, if I was Chief, I could give you 8:30 every day.
I don’t have the authority to...
Oh... oh...
I’ll make it happen.
And here we are in now-times.
As you can see, I’ve gotten everything I’ve ever wanted.
Except pants that fit.
I told you that if I let you in this movie
you couldn’t make fun of me.
I’m not making fun of you. I’m making fun of your pants.
Well, how’d you like it if I made fun of your pants?
Go ahead.
Well, they’re a little, uh...
They-they, uh...
Oh, they’re perfect.
When I grow up, I’ll have a giant mansion,
my own pinball machine with infinity quarters,
eight pairs of peanut butter and jelly pajamas...
How many wishes do I have left?
DECLAN: None. You never had any.
I’m not a genie.
D’oh!
Homer, your dreams will take a lot of money.
Don’t look at me. Look at the camera.
Got it.
I said, look at the camera.
No problem.
Now you’re looking at a mud puddle.
That’s your hand.
That’s the production accountant.
That’s your other hand.
Do you even know what a camera is?
Well, of cour... No.
I’m gonna put this squeaky toy
on top of the camera.
(squeaking)
(giggles): Squeaky! Squeaky!
Squeaky, squeaky!
Squeaky, squeaky, squeaky!
DECLAN: Unsurprisingly, by age 24,
Homer’s dreams of wealth had not come to fruition.
Manure for sale!
Get your manure!
Loamiest in town!
Hey, the manure dealership
is just one of the things I got going.
I also have a sweet gig as an infomercial question-asker.
Um, I know Super Clean cleans, but does it scrub?
My garage band is getting so tight.
(guitar solo)
(drum solo)
♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah ♪
(harmonica solo)
(panting)
The album cover’s gonna be a naked girl
with stars for boobs.
And I do open-casket caricatures.
Did he have any hobbies?
Get out of here!
DECLAN: But Homer had found a peanut of hope
in his Cracker Jack box of despair.
Homer is so amazing!
He can chug a beer and pitch woo at the same time.
The light from your eyes could guide a ship at sea.
Eh?
DECLAN: Are you two considering children?
(scoffs): Kids? No way!
You’ll never see a couple of rugrats tying me down!
You better not put this shot
after the one where I said I won’t have kids.
That would be a devastating edit.
Homer, your life is nothing to be ashamed of.
You’ve got a loving family
and a steady job at a nuclear power plant.
You’re not English Breakfast,
but you’re not Lapsang Soochong either.
(fey laughter)
Oh, yeah?
Check with me in eight years, Dr. Who.
I’ll be kickin’ your ass with a solid gold boot!
Hmm... what’s changed for me since the last time I saw you?
Only... everything!
DECLAN: I can’t believe it!
Homer Simpson... a bloody millionaire?!
Why do you sound so shocked?
This is our fifth take.
Whee!
(laughing)
Now that I’m super-wealthy,
I can buy them whatever their hearts desire.
(chuckles)
That’s why rich kids turn out so well.
(whooping)
(laughing)
Mine has a cup holder.
Bart, that’s a blowhole.
You’re a blowhole!
(dolphin squealing)
No, boy. Up, up, up!
DECLAN: Well, Marge, you must be proud of your "Homie."
Oh, yes, I’m so proud, I feel my chest might burst.
Can you edit that? I don’t want to say "chest" in a movie.
You said it and it stays.
But I must know: How did Homer come so far
in eight short years?
(mariachi band playing)
This pays a lot better than you think.
(speaking Spanish)
You see, Declan, I made my millions
with a simple invention: the Condiment Pen!
Just click the buttons at the top,
and you can choose from ketchup, mustard, mayo and relish.
♪ Do, do, do, do, do-do-do. ♪
(loud whisper): I got the idea from the regular pen.
DECLAN: Can I use it on fish and chips?
I don’t know.
You can put horseradish on your dead mother for all I care.
The point is: I’m rich, rich, rich!
Just look-- my dog has his own Jacuzzi!
(yelping)
(giggling)
He loves it!
(yelps)
DECLAN: You win, Homer.
I guess there’s no way I can embarrass you any further.
(Declan chuckles)
When I, um, grow up, I’m gonna be a rocket scientist!
To Mars!
Zoom.
(grunts)
Zoom.
(nervous cry)
Ah, bullies approaching.
Activate cloaking device.
DECLAN: Professor Frink, you’ve become
one of Springfield’s most renowned scientific minds.
-You discovered and cured Frink’s disease, -Uh-huh.
created the element Frinkonium,
and invented the eight-month-after pill.
Yes, yes, all right. All of that means nothing, sir.
I’ve spent my whole life in the lab and never talked to a girl.
That’s why I built this time machine.
I give you the chrono-trike!
Now, I’ll go back in time
to tell myself to choose a different career,
one where I’ll meet a female woman of the girl-u-lar variety.
(grunting)
Have to get the speed going here.
(electrical zapping)
(humming)
Listen to me, little Frink.
I am here to warn you...
(grunting and groaning)
That was...
Hey, I’m still going, but... (groans)
(humming)
Hey... cool!
I want to be a lawyer and a doctor
because a woman can do anything.
DECLAN: At 24, Eleanor had graduated
from Harvard Medical and Yale Law.
Your Honor, I’d like to request a continuance
so I can go deliver a baby.
I love babies. I’ll allow it.
I’m a little burnt-out.
So, sometimes-- don’t shoot me--
I have a glass of wine with Buster here.
(chuckles nervously)
He’s a real comfort.
I might even get a second cat.
(shrieking and muttering gibberish)
(cats yowling)
Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!
DECLAN: Nice kitty.
I like taking pictures.
Whee!
(camera shutter clicks)
Take my picture. Take my picture.
(grunts and groans)
(camera shutter clicks)
Aw, crap, my first kiss.
You could do a lot worse, my friend.
DECLAN: At age 16,
Marge was the star photographer for her school newspaper.
But her interests soon expanded beyond shutterbuggery.
The biggest change for me over the last eight years?
That’s got to be Homer.
Marge, baby!
I got a picture of you tattooed on my chest.
(chuckling)
They had a sale on skulls.
(murmurs awkwardly)
DECLAN: At 24,
Marge’s photojournalistic dreams were,
shall we say, underdeveloped?
I need one wallet-sized photo for my captain’s license.
(sighs wearily)
Coming right up.
Mind if I turn on a little music?
("Disco Inferno" playing)
It’s so danceable.
Nautical Stu loves disco music.
Ha, ha!
DECLAN: And the world welcomed Disco Stu.
Ha, mm, yeah!
(sighs)
I need a full-time job to support Homer
so he has time to work on his rock music,
his erotic etchings,
his Play-Doh Theater...
(sighs heavily)
And yet look how things turned out.
This overnight affluence must have come as a tremendous shock.
Oh, yes, sir.
As shocks go, this one’s a real zaparoo.
Listen, something’s been piquing my curiosity.
Why is your medicine cabinet full of old man ointments?
Oh... mm-hmm.
-Well, yeah, the ointments, um.. -(door opens)
(gasps): What are you people doing in my summer home?
(stammering): Uh, oh, uh...
This is Eduardo, my pool boy.
He thinks he’s an angry, rich man.
I am an angry, rich man.
(loud whisper): That’s the pool chemicals talking.
Homer J. Simpson,
your fabulous millionaire lifestyle is all a lie.
(a la Katharine Hepburn): Oh, Father, my pony Buttercup
can jump ever so high...
(normal voice): Hoo-boy, it’s Mr. Burns.
Please, Mr. Burns, pretend you work for me.
You can have the boy. Just don’t beat him.
(loud whisper): You can beat him. Just don’t leave marks.
Shut up, you waste of skin and fat.
You’ve desecrated my every possession.
Ugh!
Eww!
(muffled grunting)
(sighs)
(panting and groaning)
Oh, thank you, sir.
For three days I’ve had nothing to read
but clock-setting instructions:
"Using the suspension spring above the pendulum leader,
hang the pendulum on the pendulum guide..."
(angry grunt)
Mr. Burns, we’re so sorry.
The plan was just to use your backyard,
and the next thing we know,
Mr. Smithers is tied up in a grandfather clock.
Please get me out of here.
It’s 11:59:59.
(clock tolling 12 times as Smithers moans)
(exasperated grunt)
I’ve heard enough.
Release the hounds.
Uh, sir, your hounds are still at the winter house.
Well, bring them over in the Durango.
Shadow and Winston have been fighting a lot.
Huh, put Winston in the front.
Winston doesn’t like the front.
Just do it. Do it. Do it now!
(sipping)
...and that’s how I got
the vending machine contract for the Kremlin.
(polite laughter)
(door opens, growling)
Sorry, sir.
Traffic was a nightmare.
Then I got caught in some kind of garlic festival.
(menacing): Release the hounds.
(barking, screaming)
HOMER: Stop it, Winston!
In the wake of this deception, I had two questions for Homer:
"Why lie?" and "Lies... why?"
But he seemed less than eager to meet.
Homer, I brought a squeaky!
(squeaking)
(shrieks)
(toy squeaking)
(yelling)
(toy squeaking)
(yells)
(toy squeaking)
(shrieks, grunts)
Ooh! Ah! Ah!
Help!
DECLAN: I realized that if this bunny was going to be boiled,
I would have to turn up the heat.
LENNY: There you are!
I’m ready for my segment.
(chuckles): Lenny...
always exciting to hear from you.
Did you ever try that new shampoo?
Nope, never did.
Want to watch me pay my cable bill?
I got checks with butterflies on them.
I am interesting.
No, you’re not.
What do you want?
Marge, can you just let me in for a minute?
We let you in 32 years ago
and it’s brought us nothing but pain.
Well, if you want, I can cut you out of the film.
No, no, no, no, no!
Let’s not get crazy.
Then I just want to know why your husband did what he did.
HOMER: I’ll tell you why.
It’s been another eight years and what do I have?
Same job, same house, same dirty joke book.
(weak laughter)
I just thought for once I could be the cool guy in your movie.
But all I am is the guy who makes everyone else look good.
Strong words from a dumpy man.
And cut.
Wait just a cotton-swabbing minute!
A good man went to a lot of trouble just to impress you.
And I went along with it because I love him to pieces.
And you made him look like a fool.
Well, I don’t want you anywhere near my house!
Now you can cut!
What’s the matter, Declan?
Did a cop give you a ticket
for talking like a fruit?
It’s the oddest thing.
I actually feel affection
for these knuckle-dragging sub-monkeys.
I feel sorry for Homer Simpson.
What, have you been sipping cuckoo juice?
Homer’s got it made.
He’s married to one hell of a woman.
All I’ve got is this porn channel
I’m too cheap to descramble.
That’s an ad for shoe inserts.
What the....?
I’ve been writing creepy letters to that?
But what you said about Homer, it’s...
it’s given me a brilliant idea!
An action movie where I play the Pope
who kills the president?
No, that’s a terrible idea.
Yeah, I know. It’s stupid.
I think it could work, though.
I’ve even got a title: Pontiff No Return.
I came up with it, but I don’t really get it.
DECLAN: The next day, I invited Homer to my editing bay.
Oh, my God, the view!
This makes it all worth it!
Yeah, it’s not so much fun when you’re blind.
At least you made it up the mountain.
No thanks to you two.
All right, you lured me to your bay.
Now what sick game are you playing?
I have some footage to show you.
O, spirit!
Are you gonna show me my future?
My snow-flecked grave, mourned by no man?
Well, it’s not too late for me to change!
You there, boy!
Buy me a Christmas goose!
The biggest one in the shop!
BOY (squeaky-voiced): And then what?
Homer, come over here and take a look at this.
I’ve gone over 100,000 hours of Springfield footage--
twice-- and put together something you must see.
If I could trade lives with anybody, I’d pick Homer.
Have you been to Homer’s house?
It’s got a back yard, a front yard...
The place is like yard city!
I love his laugh.
He picked the perfect time to lock in his mortgage.
He’s the kindest, sweetest, most generous man
ever to drive through my living room.
I’ll pay for most of this!
He may not be perfect, but he’s my dad.
Homer gave me a kidney.
It wasn’t his, I didn’t need it, and it came postage due,
but still, a lovely gesture.
I like when Daddy’s out of work
’cause he can spend more time with me.
At bedtime, he tucks me in tighter than anyone else could.
And you know what?
No monsters have gotten me yet.
Wow...
I have a pretty good life after all.
Homer! Don’t kill the foreign man!
(chuckling): Relax, Marge.
I wasn’t gonna kill him.
All those years I was dreaming of other things,
I was actually doing what I really wanted:
hanging out with my family, drinking with my friends,
making friends with my family and hanging with my drinking.
Marge, you’re my real dream come true.
And I get to live you every day.
Oh, Homie!
You make each eight-year interval better than the last!
Oh...
So, Homer, are you at peace with your lot in life?
Absolutely.
Hey, is that a mixing board?
Uh, no, no. It’s something else.
Yes, it is.
Look, I need to lay down some tracks.
I’m making a demo tape.
By the time you come back in eight years,
I’ll be the world’s richest rock star!
One, two, three, four...
♪ Satan, you’re my lady ♪
♪ Stick me with your pitchfork thing ♪
♪ Satan, you’re my lady ♪
♪ Stick me with your pitchfork thing ♪
♪ All night long ♪
♪ Yeah, yeah, girl ♪
♪ Smother me with your beezle boobs ♪
♪ ’Cause I’m a rock ’n’ roll hero ♪
♪ With a motorcycle made of fire called the Flame Mobile ♪
-♪ Flame Mobile ♪ -(electrical zapping)
♪ Satan, you’re my lady ♪
♪ Stick me with your pitchfork thing ♪
Come on, Declan. Join me.
♪ Shoobie-doobie-do-wa ♪
-No! -♪ Woobie-shoobie-do-wa ♪
-Those aren’t the lyrics! -What?
-"Satan, you’re my lady." -Oh!
♪ Satan, you’re my lady ♪
♪ Stick me with your pitchfork thing ♪
-♪ Shoobie-do-wa, shoobie-do-wa ♪ -I think I’ll keep that in.
Stop.
I don’t really know much about this rock and roll thing.
Oh, you could have fooled me!
-I think I can do one more, though. -All right.
♪ Satan, you’re my lady ♪
♪ Stick me with your pitchfork thing ♪
♪ Shoobie-do-wa, shoobie-do-wa ♪
-♪ All night long ♪ -♪ All night long ♪
-♪ Yeah, yeah, girl ♪ -♪ Yeah, yeah ♪
Don’t quit your day job.
All right. That’s it.
Captioned by VISUAL DATA
Shh!
Enhanced by Fotokem