CHORUS SINGS: ♪ The Simpsons ♪
(tires screeching)
D’oh!
(screams)
(tires screeching)
Dad, are you sure you’re okay to drive at night?
It’s night?!
All right, that’s it. Pull over.
Now don’t you worry.
Just sit back and relax
to the smooth sounds of Tommy Dorsey’s All-White Orchestra.
♪ ♪
Son, let this music take you
to a time when girls were girls
and a Hershey bar was as thick as a phone book.
I’m sick of this song!
♪ Catch a falling star and... ♪
I don’t like this one either-- too optimistic!
Too slow!
Too fast!
No zazz!
Too much zazz!
More boogie!
Less woogie!
My back hurts!
All my friends are dead!
(screaming)
-Nice one. -Thanks.
-Oh, no, we’re gonna die. -(screaming)
(sighs)
-Oh, no, we’re gonna die. -(screaming)
(sighs)
Oh, no...
(both sigh)
(engine puttering)
(tires screeching)
(both scream)
(glass shattering)
(groaning)
(wheezing)
(coughs)
Son, call me an ambulance.
And while I’m in the hospital,
you’ll have to visit me every day.
And then I’ll have to come live with you
while I recover.
Eventually I’ll die in your home,
which’ll hurt the resale value, but it’ll all be...
(muffled moaning)
LISA: Dad?
Dad? Wake up!
Who’s... what, who?
Oh, I was having the most wonderful dream.
I always wake up just before the good part.
You can just drop me off here.
I’ll see you later, honey.
(snoring)
(mumbling)
(doorbell rings)
Er, uh, yes?
I’m delivering your Scout Gal Cookies, Mayor Quimby!
That’ll be $30.
For three boxes?
The money helps us serve the community.
We plant trees, pick up litter,
cut up milk bones for old dogs...
It was rhetorical question.
And I used rhetoric in my answer?
(sighs)
Let’s just move on.
(lock clicking)
27 to the left and open.
(door squeals)
(mouse chittering)
Where’s all the money?
Why, it’s right...
Uh-oh.
We spent all our money
on that new slogan for Springfield.
Eh.
Um, what say you leave the cookies,
and I pay you double next year?
Sir, I didn’t get this
"skepticism" merit badge
falling for promises like that.
If you don’t give me those cookies,
I’ll pass a law forcing your organization
to accept gay scout leaders.
I would strongly support that measure.
Just give me those cookies!
(grunting)
-You get it... -Let go.
This is a low point for my administration.
-(grunting) -No. You give it.
People of Springfield,
our city is broke.
(all gasp)
Uh, when you say broke,
do you mean really broke,
or uh, "O.J. Simpson broke"?
Really broke!
I’ve been reduced to using this cheap novelty gavel.
(squeaking)
(laughing)
Order! Order!
Homer Simpson.
I know a lot of you from church and the market and such.
And I’m not much for talkin’, but seems to me,
in hard times like these that we Americans come together.
(indistinct chatter)
So I say we roll up our sleeves,
and fake a disaster
to trick the federal government out of relief money.
(people murmuring)
Rip off the federal government?
Mmm, I have reservations...
for dinner in five minutes.
So all in favor, say "aye"!
ALL: Aye!
The "ayes" have it.
Now, when exactly
did the hurricane pass through your town?
Er, uh, five minutes ago.
You just missed it.
FEMA will help you rebuild this town.
(cheering)
Your first $10 million will arrive
as soon as you submit this form,
and the, uh, $2,500 processing fee.
-Mm-hmm. -And that’s how
a fake FEMA official scammed us out of $2,500.
We are now worse than broke.
(murmuring)
LISA: Panic not, fellow Springfielders!
I’ve gone through the town’s financial records,
and it turns out there are millions
in uncollected city taxes.
Hmm.
We shall collect each and every back tax owed!
Everyone from...
Comic Book Guy to...
...Milhouse!
No one shall be spared!
Dozens of swindling deadbeats,
as well as this respected reporter
who made an honest mistake, have paid their back taxes,
leaving only one outstanding debtor:
country music star Lurleen Lumpkin,
seen here at the height of her fame.
♪ Bunk with me tonight, Kermit ♪
♪ Bunk with me tonight... ♪
(gulps)
Uh, really, Lurleen?
(karate yell)
Hey, Dad,
that’s the singer you used to manage!
Oh, right.
Dad was Colonel Homer and he wore that awesome suit
and Lurleen wanted to bunk his brains out!
But I forget how Mom felt about it.
(grunting)
Kids, marriage is like a car.
Along the way it has its bumps and dings,
and this country can’t make one
that lasts more than five years.
With Lurleen I just walked past the showroom
and didn’t even go inside.
Now let’s return to watching the news.
Ms. Lumpkin owed $50,000 in back taxes.
With penalties, interest and the celebrity resentment tax,
that sum has grown to $12 million.
However, she’s been missing for several years,
since her career went into a downward spiral.
I told her not to go into one of those.
The entire city is searching for her.
Not for any reward, but for the pleasure
of destroying someone they once admired.
Save some for me!
(grunts)
Got her!
Krusty?
I just want to win one thing in my life!
It’s not real.
Don’t you dare ruin the moment!
(scoffs) Look at those idiots.
I bet Lurleen’s a million miles away right now.
-Hey, Homer. -(screams)
Shh! I’m more wanted
than the last petal on a bloomin’ onion.
Don’t worry. You can stay with us.
I’m sure Marge will be cool.
(tires screeching)
(garage door whirring)
MARGE: (muffled yelling)
HOMER: (muffled shouting)
MARGE: (muffled yelling): ...get her out of here!
HOMER (muffled): But...
I’m taking you to your home,
before you wreck mine!
You live here?
Bye, Marge.
Well, at least she’s got a friend.
It’s your turn to clean the toilet.
Where is it?
You’re holding it.
-(screams) -(tires screeching)
Get in!
Oh, come on.
Thanks, Marge.
Gee, after all that’s passed between us, I mean...
Well, you’re a bigger woman than I am.
Are you calling me fat?
No, no, no!
I’ll just be quiet.
Lurleen, this barbecue is delicious!
Oh, it’s a traditional Southern recipe:
ketchup, Coca-Cola, and fricasseed possum.
ALL: Ew!
Just kiddin’.
It’s actually chicken.
Double ew!
Well, I think it’s wonderful.
My diet starts tomorrow!
Listen, I’m sorry I called you all those mean things
like... oh, I don’t even remember.
Confederate degenerate?
Southern-fried succubus?
Hee-haw ho?
(chuckles)
Oh, that’s all right, Marge.
I’m just so grateful
that y’all took me in and hid me from...
CHIEF WIGGUM: Freeze, Patsy Crime!
Ha!
(moans)
(all gasping)
-(bones cracking) -Chief, you okay?
Yeah, yeah.
Why’d you jump off the roof?
I just wanted to be extraordinary.
Your Honor, I would love to pay the money I owe,
but country music changed, and I went out of style.
Objection!
Speculating on the trajectory
of trends in country music.
I’m going to allow it.
Lurleen, the court orders you
to make payments of a hundred dollars a week
till such time as your music comes back in style
or becomes appreciated for its camp value.
All right, what’s the next case?
Judge, next we have a man
who is suing his wife for not dressing sexy enough
in "The Case of the Horny Husband."
What the...?
Well,
I thought if we acted like The People’s Court,
some day we’d be The People’s Court.
And, uh, well, a bailiff can dream, can’t he?
No, he can’t.
I don’t get it, Lurleen. How did you lose all your money?
Did it go up your nose?
-Between your toes? -Sadly, no.
Most of my money went to my ex-husbands.
Boy, you sure have married a lot of super-hunks.
Well, from now on,
the only thing I’m gonna be married to is my work.
I’ve already accepted "a high-octane job
in the nightlife industry."
All right, I need you to get the rats outta the jukebox,
and clean the vomit out of the pool table pockets,
and then you got the job.
Oh, and you’ve gotta share your tips with Manuel,
who’s, uh, actually me with a fake moustache.
(in Spanish accent): Es good job. You should take it.
(sighs)
Say, Lurleen, are you Jamaican?
’Cause "Jamaican" me crazy.
That’s sweet, but I’m not lookin’ to date.
No, I’m glad you said that.
’Cause you reminded me
that I’m not looking to date, either.
So... so great.
Hey, Lurleen, I’m going down to the rock quarry tonight
to throw stones at the woodchucks.
-Want to come? -No.
That’s okay. I understand.
Someone’s lookin’ at a snake in her mailbox.
MARGE: She turned down
Lenny and Carl?
That’s like someone
who doesn’t like hamburgers or hot dogs.
What could make her hate men like that?
(guitar strumming country song)
♪ I was cryin’ in my cradle ♪
♪ When my daddy hopped a train ♪
♪ He left a hole in my heart and filled it up with pain ♪
♪ I know no amount of liquor ♪
♪ Will soothe my achin’ ticker ♪
♪ ’Cause the love for my deadbeat daddy ♪
♪ Is still pumpin’ through my veins ♪
(song ends, Lurleen sighs)
So that’s it.
She’s been burned by the most important man in her life--
her father.
How could a man just abandon his family?
By which I mean, what is the method he would use,
and could anyone do it?
(laughs and mutters)
Wh-Where you going?
Lurleen Lumpkin has a hole in her heart,
and I’m gonna fill it.
(sighs)
I’ve talked to over 500 men named Lumpkin.
Everyone at Lumpkin, Lumpkin and Rosenthal Associates,
an Asian or Pacific Islander named Cho Lum Kin...
Good luck in searchings!
...but still no sign of Lurleen’s dad!
Hello.
Are you Royce Lumpkin?
-That’s right. -The father of Lurleen Lumpkin?
Lurleen?
(sighs)
I ain’t seen my little girl in 30 years.
She must be what, uh, 12, 13 by now?
She’s 34, and she’s having a rough time!
Oh, man.
I better whiskey up these corn flakes.
She needs to see you right away!
Oh, man.
I better heroin up this orange juice.
(birds singing)
(goofy male humming and rhythmic clapping)
(gasps)
There’s only one man who can hambone like that.
(humming)
Daddy!
Lurleen?! My goodness.
Why, you’re the spittin’ image of your mother’s hotter sister!
-(grunts) -Royce Lumpkin, where you been?
I’ve been a dang fool. That’s where.
(clears throat)
Can you forgive me, Lurleen?
The way that I immediately forgave myself?
Ooh!
(sighs)
I can, Daddy!
ROYCE: Mmm!
I made that hug happen!
Wait a minute.
He’s a deadbeat dad,
and yet, he’s getting as much love as me,
a dad too lazy to run away!
And he has hair! Oh!
Bart, get me my suicide axe.
No suicide axe!
Oh.
Later.
You know what I like best about this T-shirt?
I’ll always be able to see
your face.
Oh, well, you don’t need a T-shirt
for that, Tootsie Pop,
’cause I ain’t ever gonna leave you again.
Just sit still in my lap!
What lap?
Yeah, all I see is a gut with knees!
Why you little...
(Homer grunting, Bart and Lisa laughing)
Get back here so we can put our love on a shirt!
(camera shutter clicks)
(both cackling)
What?
Lurleen’s daddy comes back after 30 years,
and he’s father of the year.
Why can’t I leave for 30 years?
Fine with me.
Look, I packed you a bag.
Well, it might be cold outside.
No problem. I bought you a hat.
Oh, I see.
It’s reverse psychology.
Well, in that case,
I’m not going, and I’m not staying.
And I’ll cut my steak with a spoon,
then take a walk on the ceiling.
(both laughing)
Oh, Daddy, you made me the happiest girl
on whichever side of the Mississippi this is.
And last night, I wrote this song just for you.
(strumming upbeat country song)
♪ For 30 years you made me cry ♪
♪ But now I see you ain’t such a bad guy ♪
♪ I haven’t felt this good since the Lord knows when ♪
(goofy humming)
♪ And I’m sure you got a million reasons ♪
♪ For being gone a hundred-twenty seasons ♪
♪ My daddy’s back ♪
♪ And I’m feelin’ like a daughter again ♪
(stomach squeaks rhythmically)
♪ Yeah, Daddy’s back ♪
♪ And I’m feelin’ like a daughter ♪
♪ Daddy’s back ♪
♪ And she’s feelin’ like she oughter ♪
♪ Daddy’s back ♪
♪ And he’s drinking bottled water ♪
♪ Keep it down, I’m reading Harry Potter ♪
♪ My body wash is Estée Lauder ♪
♪ Daddy’s back and I’m feelin’ like a daughter again! ♪
(song ends)
♪ And here comes Grampa with an otter! ♪
Song’s over, Dad.
Oh! I took three buses to get here.
(crickets chirping)
(floorboards creaking)
(quietly): ♪ Daddy’s a deadbeat ♪
♪ He’s leaving his daughter again ♪
(door squeaks)
I’m really worried about Lurleen.
Yeah, me, too.
Since her father re-abandoned her,
she’s cut the word "pop" out of all of our foods.
You’d think a house full of crazy people would be fun.
It’s actually really depressing.
(sighs)
(sobbing quietly)
Aw, cheer up.
You still got your talent,
and that new song you wrote is gonna be a really big hit.
Here’s a new song that’s rising faster
than a rocket with a rocket up its butt.
It’s from the Dixie Chicks!
(strumming song with same melody as "Daddy’s Back")
♪ We said some things that came out wrong ♪
♪ But now we’ve got a brand-new song ♪
♪ ’Cause free speech needs curtailin’ now and then ♪
♪ We pledge allegiance to Fox News ♪
♪ Please take away our right to choose... ♪
Ooh, that sounds just like my song,
but how could they have heard...?
(gasps) Daddy!
♪ America’s back ♪
♪ And we’re feeling patri-otter again ♪
♪ ♪
♪ America’s back ♪
♪ And we’re feeling patri-otter ♪
♪ Freedom’s a germ and we’re ♪
♪ Glad that we caught ’er ♪
♪ Liberty has ♪
♪ Never looked hotter ♪
♪ I used to love ♪
♪ Welcome Back Kotter ♪
♪ America’s back ♪
♪ And we’re feeling patri-otter again! ♪
(song ends)
Take it away, Royce!
He wrote this song!
(fast-paced instrumental interlude and goofy humming)
-Hey! -(song ends)
If you need me, I’ll be...
Oh, who am I kidding?
No one needs me.
(door squeaking)
(spurs jangling)
(gasps) Colonel Homer!
And Major Marge!
Well, I don’t...
Lurleen, you’re giving your dad too much power
over the way you feel about yourself.
Stop getting your self-esteem from the men in your life.
Well, that’s easy for you to say.
You’re married to a kind, thoughtful genius.
Uh, yeah...
Marge, my fringes are knotted again.
There’s only one person in the world
who can tell you what to do.
And that person is right here!
Santa Claus?!
No, no, that’s just our old Christmas decorations.
(grunts)
-Huh? -Me?!
Yes!
It’s time for you to take control
of your own destiny.
You’re not a doormat.
You’re a door prize!
You’re right, Marge.
And remember, you can do anything
you want in the world of country music,
Western wear merchandising and TV movies.
Regular movies-- don’t hold your breath.
But TV movies-- the sky’s the limit.
Colonel, you’re still my knight in white polyester.
Ten percent Lycra.
Oh, I noticed.
Congratulations!
That song I wrote you was so patriotic,
they decided to make it into a Chevy commercial,
so I, uh, changed a few lines.
I don’t know.
You’re asking us to sell out our song.
And for what?
-Cash money. -(all gasping)
Money? Ooh, we love money!
Really? That’s great!
I’m gonna buy me a clock radio!
Royce Boss Hogg Lumpkin,
you are a thief!
A dirty, rotten, lowdown...
I think I can say it better with this.
(grunts)
No, no, no, don’t hit him in the head!
He needs that to think up our songs.
I’m Lurleen Lumpkin, and he stole your song from me!
-What?! -What?! -What?!
(gasping)
Okay, maybe I abandoned my daughter
and stole her song,
but I’m still the most honorable record producer
y’all have ever met.
Well, he’s got us there.
Still, in human terms, he’s deplorable.
Let’s make guitar picks out of him!
-(women growling) -No!
I’m droppin’ y’all as clients. Ow!
(birds singing)
Oh, I can’t thank you guys enough.
Now I’m opening for the Dixie Chicks,
and I may have just met husband #4.
Babe, need a hundred bucks for beer.
Ooh, I think he’s a keeper.
Well, you’re very welcome, Lurleen.
Of all the women who’ve hit on Homer
over the years, you’re my favorite.
ALL: Aw.
If you ever come near Homer again,
I’ll strangle you with your own hair extensions.
That’s right. I know.
Captioned by VISUAL DATA
♪ We said some things that came out wrong ♪
♪ But now we’ve got a brand-new song ♪
♪ ’Cause free speech needs curtailin’ now and then ♪
♪ We pledge allegiance to Fox News ♪
♪ Please take away our right to choose ♪
♪ America’s back ♪
♪ And we’re feeling patri-otter again ♪
♪ America’s back ♪
♪ And we’re feeling patri-otter ♪
♪ Freedom’s a germ ♪
♪ And we’re glad that we caught ’er ♪
♪ Liberty has never looked hotter ♪
♪ America’s back ♪
♪ And we’re feeling patri-otter again! ♪
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