(eerie music plays)
Hello. Remember Halloween?
It was last week,
but here at the Simpson House,
we’re still celebrating.
Tonight, we have three terrifying tales of the...
Excuse me.
Now, our first gory story is...
Oh, for crying out loud!
Hey! Ow!
No fair.
Can’t anyone just watch the show they’re watching?
(shrieking)
(pained sputtering)
(ding)
(shrieking)
Hmm.
Dinner is served.
(eerie music)
(gobbling)
Mmm. Developed by.
(gargles)
(movie theme music playing)
Crème brulée! Crème brulée!
Or, in English:
Burnt cream! Burnt cream!
Hold on. I still have to caramelize.
(frustrated grunting)
Bart, go out to the shed
and get some more butane!
(groans)
(muttering): ...butane this.
What’s that unearthly glow?
The only sensible thing to do is explore it on my own.
Huh?
-(Bart grunts) -(pained grunting)
Oh, my God.
An alien... in our butane storage shed.
(speaking alien language)
Is that your space name?
No, you hit me in my 700 testicles.
(coughs)
Why did you come to our world?
My friends and I came in peace to find your vulnerabilities
and, um, shore them up with more peace.
Yes.
Then I was accidentally left behind...
in a spirit of peace.
Whoa.
Is that a ray gun?
No, it’s a... deodorant applicator.
I’ll just...
(anguished scream)
(labored breathing)
Smells like a summer breeze.
(laughs)
So, this is my Krusty doll, Funzo, Linguo,
Iraq War Sergeant Activity with insufficient armor,
Phonic Frog, cat skull, Jim Halterman bobblehead doll.
He’s a local car dealer.
Hmm... do all humans have such weak necks
or just the one you call "Jim Halterman"?
Oh, my God, an alien.
I’m going to blow Rachel Goodman away at show-and-tell.
No. If the government finds out he’s here,
they’ll dissect him.
I only hope those scientists leave me my mouth,
so I may spread my message of peace through song.
♪ Peace... ♪
♪ Peace, peace, peace ♪
♪ From space. ♪
As this month’s rotating president
of the Springfield Future Scientists Club,
may I say I’m sorry
and is there anything we can do to help?
Well, I would like to phone home
to tell my family I’m okay.
-Aw... -Aw...
To do so, I would need the following items.
Get them now. Fiber-optic cable, uranium 235,
two tickets to Avenue Q, seven billion body bags...
-Can I hammer that? -No.
-Can I weld that? -No!
-Can I tighten the... -I said no!
I thought we were supposed to do this together.
Actually, I do have an important job for you.
You can go get the wrench I dropped.
I’m helping! I’m helping!
Way to get rid of Bart.
(scoffing): He can be such a pest.
You are very observant, Lisa.
That’s why I have a special job for you.
Go find out the secret locations
of your country’s missile defense facilities.
They were in yesterday’s New York Times.
♪ We’ll be killing every human in two days ♪
♪ We will cook them, we will eat them ♪
♪ ’Cause that’s the way to treat them... ♪
(door opens)
HOMER (singsongy): Oh, Ma-arge.
Want some company?
As always, silence means yes.
How about a little neck rub, baby?
Now, how about the neck of my butt?
Oh-ho-ho!
Someone’s taking the highway to the danger zone.
Oh, Marge, your tentacles feel so good.
Wait a minute.
Why am I getting words in edgewise?
(both scream)
We can’t have a space creature
living in our house.
Go ahead. Say it.
It’s because I’m Jewish.
No, no, no, some of my best friends are...
Fine, you can stay.
Look! They’re coming to get... what’s your name?
-Kodos the Destroyer. -Huh?
Don’t worry, son. I got a plan to save your space doggy.
(doorbell rings)
HOMER (in Southern belle voice): Who is it?
Ma’am, we have reason to believe that you’re harboring an alien.
Open this door at once.
Oh, I’m not decent.
Let me throw something on.
Can I help you, gentlemen?
(coquettish giggle)
Uh, we know it’s you, Mr. Simpson.
Now where is the alien?
(in normal voice): Wow, you guys are good.
The alien’s right here in the living room.
Ha! You missed ’em.
Bart and our alien friend are hundreds of miles away by now.
(Bart grunting)
What do you weigh?
Like a million pounds?
More of me to love.
After them!
(in Southern belle voice): The South shall rise again.
(E.T. music playing)
(tires screeching)
We can fly over them with the power of love, right?
Hmm... we could, or...
You killed them.
Well done, Columbo.
That’s right. We watch Columbo.
It’s on during rain-outs of gleep-glop games.
I’m just gonna take off now.
I’m sure you have a lot of calls to make.
Foolish biped.
It’s not a phone.
It’s a space portal.
Our shock troops will teleport in and eat everyone’s heads,
all thanks to you.
(laughs maniacally)
(whirring)
(gasps)
(muttering)
Ah!
♪♪
(rapid gunfire)
(groaning)
(explosive whooshing)
What did I miss?
Oh!
Hop in, Bart.
They’re gonna let us kill one!
Bart... friend?
Homer... bored!
(sloshing)
(crickets chirping)
I can’t believe
that an alien who looked so evil turned out to be bad.
Hmm. I guess
you should judge a book by its cover.
Definitely, especially if you count the inside flap
as part of the cover.
It usually gives you a great idea
of what the book’s about.
Quiet. We’re missing the dissection!
Actually, I’m still alive,
so technically, it’s vivisection.
No one likes a know-it-all.
(frantic muffled groaning)
(sporadic groaning)
Shh, shh, shh, shh.
Shh!
(gunshots)
(gun chamber cocking repeatedly)
(wind whipping)
You see, the problem is we’ve grown apart.
The problem is
you don’t share my interest
in not being with you.
Another thing: I don’t know where you go at night.
(door squeaks)
(squeaking)
(whirring)
Greetings, 241.
Why does he always bring up my weight?
I want you to eliminate this reporter, Kent Brockman.
He found the gully where I dump electricity every summer
to jack up prices.
Don’t worry, sir.
I’ll handle this cleanly,
quietly and... Bart!
What?
Marge, I’m gonna be home late tonight.
I’m going to, uh... Midnight Monkey Madness
at the zoo.
Well, I won’t be home, either.
I’m, um... flipping over wheelbarrows in case it rains.
Have fun at your crazy-sounding thing.
And you have fun at your preposterous event.
-Love ya. -Love ya.
(overlapping chatter)
And that was my drink.
(laughter)
(overlapping chatter and laughter)
(high-pitched whirring)
ELEVATOR VOICE: Ninth floor.
Assassin’s perch.
(chittering)
Now all I have to do is think of a clever line
before I pull the trigger.
Oh, that’s a perfect one.
But I don’t need to say it out loud ’cause I’m by myself.
(muttering and scoffing)
Out of my way, mystery skank!
Hey!
(screams)
Hey! Now I don’t get paid!
(people gasping and screaming)
HOMER: Hey, baby, hello.
(gunfire, people screaming and grunting)
(wind whipping)
(metal clinks)
Now I’m mad!
(wind whipping)
Now I’m...
(speaking gibberish)
(metal clinks)
(gunshot)
(gasps)
Marge is a professional assassin!
(tires screeching)
Hmm. You just can’t get Russian gangster blood out.
Must be something they eat.
(door closes)
Hey, what’s that?
MARGE: Uh,
a blender cozy.
Hmm.
How was your Midnight Monkey Madness?
Great, great.
I turned over so many wheelbarrows...
Wait. That was your thing.
Hmm.
Homie,
I made you my killer lasagna.
HOMER: It’s poison!
Whatever you do, don’t eat it.
Okay, you’re already eating it, but don’t finish it.
Okay, you finished it, but don’t ask for...
Seconds, please.
You moron! Just kill her!
I’ll kill her after dessert!
(gun chambers clicking)
You’re a killer for hire!
You ruined that pie!
(gunfire)
How could you not tell me you were an assassin?
How could you not tell me?
I told you 20 times!
You never listen!
Well, they’re not as pretty as you, Marge.
(grumbles)
(grunts)
(sighs)
(gun chamber cocking)
Listen, I... Oh!
(clicking)
Okay, here’s the deal.
I’ll do the killing for hire,
-and you stay home with the kids. -(grumbles)
(grunts)
I get $50,000 a hit.
How much do you make?
I just get to keep whatever’s in the guy’s wallet.
(grunting)
(clock gongs)
All those nights I thought you were out getting drunk,
you were out killing people?!
I was out getting drunk, then killing people!
(grunts)
(groans)
(grumbling)
(whimpers)
(gasps)
(grunting)
Ooh! Ow! Ow! Ow!
-(grunts) -Aah!
(grunts)
Stop it!
That’s my favorite couch!
Why do you think I’m kicking it?
(grunts)
(panting)
Are you guys fighting over us?
Whatever we did, we’re sorry.
(panting)
Sweeties... (clears throat)
We weren’t fighting.
It sounded like you were.
Who wants ice cream in bed?
BOTH: Ice cream! Ice cream!
BOTH: Dad’s the best!
Great! Now they’re going to have tummy aches tomorrow.
And where will "Super Dad" be then?
At your funeral.
(doorbell rings)
We got a complaint from an anonymous "neighborino"
about an elaborately choreographed,
high-octane, ultra-fight.
(grunts)
I would have taken a bribe.
Oh, that was so hot!
I love watching you do other guys!
Mmm, I’d like to see you do a guy sometime.
-That can be arranged. -Oh!
(erotic moaning)
(clattering)
(birds twittering)
Oh, what a wonderful night.
(both sigh)
...so, killing people together has really spiced things up
in the bedroom.
That’s terrific, but I called you here to discuss
your son’s misbehavior on the school bus.
(simultaneous gunshots)
SKINNER: Think of me on Pizza Fridays.
HOMER: No!
(dripping sounds)
(doorbell rings)
Trick or treat!
Beat it, weirdoes!
I don’t do Halloween!
You’re supposed to give us candy.
I got your candy right here.
(hawks and spits)
-(slams door) -Weirdoes!
She empty-bagged us!
What do we do now?
Hear me out.
It seems to me we gave her a choice: trick or treat.
She didn’t give us a treat, so...
Bart, where are you heading with this?
"Trick or Treat" isn’t just some phrase you chant
mindlessly like The Lord’s Prayer.
It’s an oral contract!
You’re right. We’ve forgotten the old ways.
The ways of rotten eggs and soaped-up windows.
I say we trick her!
Trick her good!
-Yay! -Yes!
(doorbell rings)
Hmm?
(grunting)
(yelling)
May I remind you that I’m your principal’s mother?!
(yelling)
(laughing)
(chuckles weakly)
(chuckling)
I hope the next people don’t give us anything
so we can trick them too!
Why give ’em a choice?
That trick was sweeter than any treat we’ll get tonight.
I’m concerned we might be heading down a slippery slope.
What do you think, Nelson?
Can’t talk. Lighting poo.
♪ Hey ho, let’s go! ♪
♪ Hey ho, let’s go ♪
♪ They’re forming in straight line ♪
♪ They’re going through a tight wind ♪
♪ The kids are losing their minds ♪
♪ The blitzkrieg bop ♪
♪ Hey ho, let’s go! ♪
-(exploding) -(dog barking)
(screams)
(angry muttering)
Excuse me, but this is not good!
Oh, lighten up.
It’s Halloween-- a night for mischief and merriment.
(squealing)
Trick-or-treat! Lick my feet!
Your head smells like pig-butt meat!
(jeering laughter)
Those monsters must be stopped!
FLANDERS: Perhaps, I can be of some assistance.
I’ve got something that will scare
the H-E-double sippy straws out of them.
(pig squealing)
HOMER (muffled): Hold still!
(squealing)
How is this a prank?
Give me back my TV!
I fed your fish.
You overfed them!
You’re the worst one of all!
(bird of prey screeching, wolf howling)
(electrical buzzing, kids gasping
(man screaming repeatedly)
Whoa! They turned the church into a haunted house!
"Scaredy cats not wanted"?
Then I am wanted!
Welcome to Heck House!
You’re about to discover what a life of sin will get you!
Sin gets us something? Awesome!
I was just in it for the sin.
Just get in there!
(evil laughter)
Welcome to eternal darnation!
May I have a clean American newspaper, please,
no "Doonesbury?"
Wouldn’t you rather have a bikini magazine?
I guess a little peek won’t hurt me.
(squeaking)
No!
He died as he lived-- like a dork.
(laughing)
No! The lesson here is he’s being punished
for thinking women are beautiful!
(frustrated grunting)
Please, Lord, grant me the power
to psychologically torture them into loving you.
(thunder crashing)
(screaming)
Behold, the las-diddily-ast room of Ned Flanders’s Hell House!
(flames roaring)
(kids screaming)
I warned ya.
And yet my punishment is no less severe.
That’s odd.
(yelling)
(grunting)
(yelping)
Mm-hmm!
Springfield is rife with the seven deadly sins!
Starting with... gluttony!
(flames roar)
(hissing)
(slurping)
More bread, please.
(screaming)
Anger!
(grunting)
Why won’t you work, you stupid piece of junk?!
(whirring)
I said, why won’t you work?!
Pride!
(tires screeching)
Oh, why did I take pride in my child’s accomplishments?
Sloth!
(hissing)
I thought I was killed by that magic spaghetti!
(snoring)
(screaming)
And the rest!
Lust!
Greed!
(yelps)
And envy!
Oh, how I envy the crotchless.
And this is where sinners spend all of eternity!
(screaming)
This is what you get for stealing jokes?!
I keep telling you: I’m Hindu!
I regret... nothing.
Stop licking my junk!
It’s my junk, too!
(screaming)
We’ll never do any of those sins...
I promise!
All we’ll do from now on is pray and fight in wars.
(satisfied chuckle)
Well, then, my work is done.
(snaps fingers)
That concludes our Halloween show for this year.
I just want to say that for watching this network,
you’re all going to hell!
And that includes FX, Fox Sports
and our newest Devil’s portal, The Wall Street Journal.
Welcome to the club!
(scary music plays)
(Adam’s Family type theme music plays)
Captioned by VISUAL DATA
(bloodcurdling scream)
(scary pipe-organ music plays)
Enhanced by Fotokem