CHOIR: ♪ The Simpsons ♪
(tires screeching)
D’oh!
(shrieks)
(tires screeching)
(music playing)
(music stops)
(Homer groans)
("Take Me Out to the Ball Game" plays)
Homer, what took you so long?
The game’s almost over.
I got hung up at the snack stand
watching those hot dogs rolling and turning,
not a care in the world.
No more lazy Saturdays for you.
(chomping)
(grunts)
Strike two!
By my calculations, we’re only one strike away from victory.
Numbers are fun.
This is it, boys.
One more out and we go to the championship game.
Let’s do it for Groundskeeper Willie,
who made me this beautiful black bicep warmer!
It keeps me naughty hands busy.
(grunts)
I got it! I got it!
(groans)
I hogged it! I hogged it!
(trumpets playing)
(crowd cheering)
My son caught the ball!
This makes up for everything
that’s gone wrong in my life
or ever will!
I’m also pleased!
After years of failure in everything we’ve attempted,
we are one victory away from a championship, people.
And our newfound glory is all due to these wonderful boys.
(cheering)
Behold
my naked butt!
Each cheek is a god to you!
FLANDERS: Now Bart,
stay humble.
Your baseball cap won’t fit over a swelled head.
Flanders, these boys have earned the right
to behave like arrogant oafs.
Can we egg the crowd?
In this modern-day Deadwood
you can do anything.
BOYS: All right.
(laughing and cheering)
Smithers, I’m missing the fun!
Upsy-daisy, sir.
Ah, what glorious goo!
I need a dress to wear for my son’s big game.
He’s the star, I’m his mom, and he’s my son.
Mm-hmm, you’ve mentioned his name
and batting average several times.
Well, he’s done very well for someone
who came out blue and backwards.
Listen, do you mind if I hum while you talk?
Not at all!
-(humming) -He single-handedly got the team
-to the championship, first time ever. -(humming)
My son caught the ball
-that won the game. -(continues humming)
(sighs)
I hate shopping!
I’m bored; my feet hurt; I’m too big for the choo-choo train.
Hmm...
where’s the "husband chair?"
Unless you’re serving me a cold beer,
you keep moving.
(moaning): Oh!
There must be another chair.
-(cocks gun) -Eh-eh.
My wife’s lookin’ for a bathing suit
that doesn’t make her look "horsey."
So, I’m gonna be here a while.
Mm-hmm.
(moaning)
I guess I could just sit on a bed.
Wow, this is soft.
Sure feels weird lying on top of the covers.
Sure feels weird lying in bed with my pants on.
(sighs)
(snoring)
What in the name of...?
Hey, you!
Whoa! How many?
Are you sleeping in the middle of my department store?
Well...
who wouldn’t
with an incredible mattress like this?
It works with my body’s natural curves
and supports my back-boobs.
That’s the best endorsement I’ve heard
since Mickey Mantle for Maypo!
I’ll take five mattresses.
I don’t work here.
You do now, son!
(jowly): You’re hired!
Woo-hoo!
(cheering)
All this fuss for a baseball game?
Why don’t thousands come to watch a teacher inspire a child?
But it did happen.
Just yesterday, in Crazytown!
BASEBALL ANNOUNCER: So, in the amber gloaming of this September afternoon,
Shelbyville has the bases loaded,
but the Isotots only need one out
to win the championship and get that pizza party at Luigi’s!
Luigi’s, they deliver on flavor, but not to your house!
Damas y caballeros,
if the Isotots win, please do not fire your guns in the air.
The bullets will come down!
And kill my sister.
A lazy pop fly to star shortstop Bart Simpson.
And this should do it!
Now for the defining moment of my life.
Huh?
(crowd gasps)
(clamoring)
Simpson drops the ball!
And he kicks it!
And he kicks it again! And again!
Oh, it’s horrible, but you can’t take your eyes away!
It’s like watching a monkey swallow a hand grenade.
The Isotots lose the pennant!
(crowd booing)
(booing continues)
Bart, you choked!
I put on fresh makeup for this?
(booing)
Knock it off!
He’s just a kid!
Aw, hey that’s the guy what created him!
If Homer had used some protection,
we’d all be poopin’ roses on easy street!
Hey, get off my case!
He’s the choke artist!
(crowd booing)
Quick, Bart, Bart, get in!
(sighs)
Thanks, Chief.
Don’t mention it, son.
He’s back!
Go nuts, everyone!
(crowd booing)
Bart’s coming down!
Hide the sports section!
D’oh!
Good morning, sweetie.
There’s nothing you can say.
After that game, my life is over.
Was there even a baseball game yesterday?
I don’t remember...
Marge, we were just talking about it a few seconds ago.
Don’t you have to get to your job as a mattress salesman?
Oh, yeah. Let’s see where that goes.
Let me tell you about a land
where it rains beer and hails pretzels
and you can play swim-up blackjack with Abraham Lincoln.
It’s the land of sleep.
And your passport:
a simple mattress.
Heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh.
Yes, I need to be able to sleep through my wife’s nagging
and my eight horrible babies
and the anguished howls of my ancestors.
A common problem.
Try this.
Oh. Ooh.
Oh, I feel like I’m floating on a river of corpses.
(clearing throat)
Homer, we have a friend--
actually a friend of a friend...
Sex problem, eh?!
Homer, please.
They can hear you in Fine China.
Relax. I’m a licensed mattress professional,
if there were such a thing,
and I’ve got the answer to your problems:
The Snugulux by Matrimonium.
Ooh, sold.
And remember: your most intimate secrets are safe with me.
(louder): Okay, who else is dead in bed?
BILL: You’re listening to KBBL,
your official "Bart Simpson sucks" station.
Oh-ho, and here comes another "Bash Bart Block,"
starting with this entry from Jimbo, Dolph, and Kearney.
JIMBO/DOLPH/KEARNEY (on tape): ♪ Bart stinks ♪
♪ Yeah, yeah ♪
♪ Bart stinks ♪
♪ Yeah, yeah ♪
-♪ Bart stinks... ♪ -(clicks radio off)
Oh, my favorite song ruined!
Bart, come with me.
I’ll take you to someone who will make you feel better.
Is it my rabbit Cottontail?
The one who went to live upstate?
He died, Bart.
Dad buried him in the backyard.
But not in that order.
(gasps)
Bart, meet Joe LaBoot.
LaBoot, LaBoot.
Sounds familiar.
You probably remember me from 1943 World Series.
With the score tied in game seven,
Tommy Heinrich of the Yankees hit a ball
in my direction.
Jugglin’ Joe LaBoot they called me.
When I finally picked up the ball,
I threw it into the stands, hitting Eleanor Roosevelt,
who up till then had been a great beauty.
We lost the game and the series.
(chuckles): But I bounced back.
Got my own car dealership.
I have 17 grandchildren and a big home in Idaho.
It’s a great life!
Yeah, in Idaho.
And at these card shows, the fans let me know
that I’ve put my gaffe behind me.
You stink, LaBoot!
No, I don’t! Google my stats!
Take it from me, kid, you’ll be just fine.
Feel better now, Bart?
"Bart?!" Are you Bart Simpson?
The kid who dropped that easy fly ball?!
You stink like a Dutchman’s throw-up.
Talking to you was the biggest error of my life!
(crowd booing)
Boo. Boo, indeed.
The Lovejoys?!
If this is about me drinking that holy water, let me tell you,
I had had like a million Doritos.
You know, the ones with the flame on the bag?
Oh-ho, that bag ain’t lyin’!
We’re here about the mattress.
What’s wrong with it?
We tried raising Cain, but we weren’t able.
Oh, I think I know what you’re doing wrong.
Have you tried...
(loud whispering)
I know the mechanics of lovemaking, Homer!
You owe us a refund!
I’ll write you a check.
"Pay to the order of Stupid Reverend.
Memo: Bite my ass."
(moaning)
Wha...?!
Homer, I’m not a man who believes in miracles,
but this bed of yours could resurrect our sex life.
If you let us have your mattress, we’ll give you ours.
On one condition: you do the shlepping.
Well, I’ll have to check with my wife.
♪♪
HOMER: Move over just a...
MARGE: Ow, well, maybe if you go...
No, wrong, wrong, wrong!
I’m sorry, Homie.
I want to snuggle, but I’m just not feeling it.
Yeah, something has changed, but I can’t figure out what.
(gasps): Our mattress!
I traded it to the Lovejoys!
You traded our mattress?
I had my secret cash in it.
Oh, that’s long gone, baby.
Long gone.
It was made for Elvis, but he found it tacky.
But I can’t believe a mattress
could make that much difference.
♪ This little light of mine ♪
-♪ I’m gonna let it shine ♪ -♪ Oh, glory ♪
♪ This little light of mine ♪
♪ I’m gonna let it shine ♪
♪ Every day, every day ♪
♪ Every day ♪
♪ Yay, yay, yay! ♪
(Mrs. Lovejoy giggles)
(mumbling): Lousy Reverend, he’s having my sex
while I’m at home with Marge
not doing anything sensual or erotic.
(birds singing)
(splatters)
(gasps loudly)
(muttering): A damp sponge will take care of this weak, water-based...
It’s oil-based!
Oil-based!
Daddy?
Fetch Daddy’s thinner, boy.
But it’s in the "stay away" closet.
You just fetch it!
Who would do this to Bart?
The person who hates Bart more than anyone else. Look!
Oh, yeah, that’s really something.
Mom, put your glasses on.
But they make me look dowdy.
(gasping)
My baby!
(whimpers)
See? I hate me, too.
Now we can be friends again.
(crazy laugh)
Bart, stop!
No one’s mad at you anymore, right?
-(crowd murmuring) -Mm.
Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.
-You know. -CHIEF WIGGUM: Jump!
Who-Who said that?
I hate Bart Simpson!
I got him! I got him!
You stink, LaBoot!
Damn it!
He’ll be all right.
Right now he just needs peace and quiet.
CROWD (chanting): Bart sucks! Bart sucks!
Bart sucks! Bart sucks!
You should all be ashamed!
Passing judgment on a child for a sports boo-boo!
What have you people ever done?
Well, I wrote a best-selling series of mystery novels.
Stephen King called it, "Scary, good fun."
Besides that.
Now, thanks to you,
my special little guy will be haunted
by this for the rest of his life.
I always thought that was just a slogan
to attract small businesses.
But now I know it’s the truth.
(crowd murmuring)
Okay, Midge.
You made us feel bad about what we done to your boy,
but what can we do about it now?
It’s not like we can play the game over again.
Can’t we?
Like I just said, we can’t.
Are you sure?
Open your freakin’ ears. No!
I think maybe we...
♪ Could. ♪
And I say, I have difficulty
♪ Envisioning it. ♪
Let me get this straight.
You want our boys to play a fake rematch
against Springfield so your son can make the catch he missed
and feel better about himself.
Exactly.
I guess I could, uh, if you pretend
to be my fiancée when my mother comes to visit.
Okay. If you pretend to be our chauffeur
at my high school reunion.
Fine, fine, if you pretend to be a ghost
at an old amusement park I’m trying to buy.
-We should stop now. -Yeah.
You want me to reannounce a game I’ve already called?
Oh, sister, I got too much integrity.
The same integrity Farmer Dan puts into every link sausage.
Then I guess you wouldn’t mind eating one.
(sloshing)
Of course I wouldn’t.
It’s not like they’re made
of skunk tails and horse nipples.
(sighs)
I’ll do whatever you say!
Just get that death wiener away from me!
I’m starting to feel funny about doing this.
Look, we’re just going to take our mattress,
do a quick sweep of the medicine chest,
then we’re out of here.
(Homer hissing like drummer’s high hat)
Homer, stop that.
Sorry.
There it is-- Old Bounce an’ Giggle.
(chuckles)
(engine revving, tires squeal)
You put on the Michael Bolton CD.
I’ll put on my edible vestments.
(footsteps running)
HELEN LOVEJOY (gasps): Oh, my God!
How dare you break into our house,
defile our bed,
and smash our family photos with your foot.
Well, excuse me
for being a powerful yet careless lover.
Reverend Lovejoy, our marriage needs this bed.
Our marriage needs it more!
Well, I am reminded
of the story of wise King Solomon.
(scoffs) You would be.
(dings)
I wish he hadn’t cut it that way.
It looks like a grilled-cheese sandwich.
Or a chicken club.
Or a-a Reuben.
Or a Monte Cristo, or...
Pull over behind that billboard!
(engine revving, tires squealing)
(moaning)
-Oh! -Oh, yeah!
Oh! You really want to make love
on half a mattress behind a billboard?
It’s like our honeymoon all over again.
Oh!
We even have the same bum looking at us.
I knew you kids would make it.
Man, you got fat.
MALE ANNOUNCER: So, it’s déjà vu all over again
as Springfield needs just one out to win the game
and the championship.
Who’d have thunk it?
Probably everyone who was here the last time.
I still can’t believe it.
They dusted the plate with a non-regulation brush,
so we have to play the last inning over again.
I think this time it’ll have a happier ending.
Why do you think that?
Uh... uh...
Oh! They warned me not to talk to you.
Who warned you?
Nobody!
(panting)
Oh!
(crowd cheering)
(grunts)
Hello, redemption.
Bart gets another try!
Uh, the batter hit it by accident, not by design.
(sighs) Play ball!
(grunts)
(all groaning)
Er, uh, that is also a do-over ’cause, um, er, uh...
There’s a naked idiot on the field.
(grunts)
(crowd groaning and gasping)
(laughs)
(humming)
(sighs)
(instrumental version of "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" plays)
(squawks)
Woo-hoo!
D’oh!
(lights click on and hum)
(sighs)
Play ball.
(wind whipping)
I did it!
I did it! I did it!
(weak cheering and applause)
-Oh. Yay. -All right.
(Homer blows raspberry)
ANNOUNCER: And the 78th time is the charm!
Now, over the left field wall,
the real show’s about to begin: the glorious sunrise,
brought to you by God,
the invisible giant you turn to when you’re about to die.
(spaceships whirring and humming)
BART: Hey, Milhouse,
did I ever tell you
about the catch I made when I was ten?
Greatest moment of my life.
It was a fake, you idiot!
We did it to make you feel better.
A fake?
Then I did suck.
I-I... I do suck!
(sobbing)
No, that was a fake just now.
You did make the catch.
I knew it!
I rule!
And you drool!
(laughs)
Boy, our son can be a real jerk.
Hey, do you want to have ghost sex?
I keep telling you, ghost sex is nothing.
It’s worse than nothing.
Then why were you moaning last time?
Because I’m a ghost!
(moaning)
(shrieks) A ghost!
(wind whipping)
Captioned by VISUAL DATA
Shh!
Enhanced by Fotokem