♪ The Simpsons ♪
-(chalk screeches) -(bell rings)
(work whistle blows)
-(sucking) -(register beeping)
(jazzy solo)
(tires screech)
(tires screeching)
(horn honks)
(tires screech)
D-oh!
-Aah! -(tires screech)
Hurry, Mom. If we don't get to the convention soon,
all the good comics will be gone.
Aw, what do you care about good comics?
All you ever buy is Casper "The Wimpy" Ghost.
I think it's sad that you equate friendliness with wimpiness,
and I hope it will keep you from ever achieving true popularity.
Well, you wanna know what I think?
I think Casper is the ghost of Richie Rich.
LISA: Hey, they do look alike.
-I wonder how Richie died? -Perhaps he realized
how hollow the pursuit of money is,
and took his own life.
Kids, could you lighten up a little?
Now, Radioactive Man, he rules!
Never punches a bad guy without saying something cool.
He's no wittier than the next superhero.
Oh, yeah? Look. He knocks a guy into the sun and says,
"Hot enough for you?"
Heh, heh, heh...
I stand corrected.
We're here!
Too bad we didn't come dressed
as popular cartoon characters.
This looks like a discount for...
-Bartman! -(wind gusts)
Who are you supposed to be?
I'm Bartman.
Never heard of him-- full price.
Lousy rip-off.
Is, uh, this on?
(clears throat) Young people of Springfield, as your mayor,
I'd like to welcome you to our annual funny book convention
and thank you for pumping almost $300 into the local economy.
-(scattered applause) -Your youthful high spirits
have imparted a glow to this old war-horse.
You might say I feel like Radiation Man.
-That's "Radioactive Man," jerk. -(laughing)
I, uh, stand corrected. Well, have fun and be sure
to clear out by 6 for the Shriners.
Get that punk's name. No one makes a fool out of Diamond Joe Quimby.
Excuse me, sir.
Has anyone turned in a left Vulcan ear?
Well, let's see.
We got a utility belt, a couple of tricorders,
a lightsaber... Sorry, kid.
Mmm-mm, mmm, mmm, mmm.
Mmm. Mm-mmm.
-Hey, Bart dude. -Hey, Otto man. Ooh, what's that?
My very own idea for a comic book, little man.
It's about a dude who drives a school bus by day
but by night, fights vampires in a post-apocalyptic war zone.
-Cool! -Come on, Bart.
We're going to see Buddy Hodges.
-The guy who played Fallout Boy on TV? -Yep!
Wow! I guess he wasn't killed in Vietnam.
Ahh, these Laramie cigarettes
give me the steady nerves I need to combat evil.
Gee willickers, Radioactive Man.
Wished I was old enough to smoke Laramies.
Sorry, Fallout Boy.
Not until you're 16. Look out!
ANNOUNCER: Will Radioactive Man
act in time to save the Earth?
(kids cheering)
Well, wasn't that great?
You know kids, I'm sure we'd all like to remember actor Dirk Richter
for his portrayal of Radioactive Man
and not the sordid details of his final years,
so let's keep the questions tasteful, okay?
Now, how about a big welcome for Buddy "Fallout Boy" Hodges!
-(kids cheering) -Any questions?
When Radioactive Man got injected with shrinking serum in issue 234,
how come his costume shrinks too?
I'm sure I don't know,
but I did just finish playing Rum Tum Tugger
in the second national touring company of Cats.
-Anybody see it? -Oh, oh, over here!
-Fallout Boy! Me, me me! -Yes, you. The masked boy.
Do you think the ghost of Dirk Richter haunts the bordello
where his bullet-riddled body was found?
(crying) Dirk Richter was a beautiful man.
Can't you little vultures leave him alone?!
(sobbing)
Hey! Radioactive Man #72!
It's an imaginary tale
where Radioactive Man marries Larva Girl.
BART: Wow, number nine!
That's before Fallout Boy became his ward.
Tell you what. I'll show you something very special
if you promise to put your grubby little hands behind your back and keep 'em there.
-Behold! -Wow!
Radioactive Man Number One.
-None other. -I bet it's worth a million bucks.
It is, my lad. But I'll let you have it for 100, because you remind me of me.
-Oh, all I got is 30. -Then you cannot have it.
But I must. Until this moment,
I never knew why God put me on this Earth,
but now I know-- to buy that comic book.
Your emotion is out of place here, son.
(horns honking)
So, did you kids have fun?
Yeah Mom. Guess what? For a dollar, a man sold me 35 Caspers
and a dozen Lois Lanes.
-Ooh. -I never knew what Superman saw in her.
Give me Wonder Woman! (lecherous growl)
And that golden lariat-- she can tie me up anytime.
(barking and howling)
-Homer! -I was just kidding, Marge.
Hey! What does everyone say to dinner at Krusty Burgers?
(cheering) My treat.
Alright Homer! Woah, you really are a sport, Dad,
taking us out to a fine restaurant like Krusty Burger.
Alright, what are you getting at?
I need $100 for a comic book.
100 bucks? For a comic book? Who drew it, Michael Malangelo?
Oh, please, Dad. I want this more than anything in the world.
Well, T.S.
-Please, Dad. -No.
-Please, Dad. -No. No!
Now look, son. We all know that,
usually, when you bug me like this, I give in,
so I'm not mad at you for trying--
shows you've been paying attention--
but we all know I'm not gonna give you $100.
-Now, are you going to stop bugging me? -No.
-Are you? -No.
-Are you? -No. No.
Okay!
Hee-hee! I win!
In your face!
Yeah! How do you like them apples?
-Hoo-hoo! (laughing) -Don't gloat, Homer.
You know, Bart, when I was your age,
the one thing I wanted more than anything in the world
was a child-size, electric-light bulb oven.
My parents wouldn't give me the money,
so I went to my sisters, Patty and Selma.
We'll give you half our allowance.
Uh-huh, but you have to be our slave.
-Okay. -This gives us a lot more free time.
Uh-huh! Let's take up smoking.
MARGE: For months I worked and worked
while my sisters smoked and smoked.
♪ Venus ♪
♪ Oh, Venus... ♪
We want those dress shields hand-washed
and drip dried.
But the big day finally came,
and because I'd worked for it,
all those lightbulb-warmed treats always tasted extra good.
So maybe a part-time job is the answer.
Oh, Mom, I couldn't ask you to do that.
You're already taking care of Maggie, and Lisa is such a handful.
LISA: She means you should get a job, stupid.
Me?
"THE WONDER YEARS" NARRATOR: Get a job? Were they serious?
♪♪ (The Byrds' "Turn, Turn, Turn" playing)
I didn't realize it at the time,
but a little piece of my childhood
had slipped away forever.
-Bart! What are you staring at? -Uh... nothing.
He didn't say it, and neither did I, but at that moment,
my Dad and I were closer than we've ever--
-Bart! Stop it. -Sorry.
♪ To everything... ♪
♪ I need some money... ♪
♪ A lot of money... ♪
Ah!
Empty bottles, empty bottles.
Hmm. Well, it's practically empty.
Here you go, Apu.
Very good. Would you like the deposit
defrayed from the cost of a jumbo cherry squishy?
No, not today. I need the dime.
Oh, it is good to see you are learning a trade.
Ching, ching, ching!
Aha!
Americanize this, my good man.
Okey-dokey.
All those coins were only worth three lousy cents?
Let the good times roll.
This is so humiliating.
I feel like such a geek.
-How's it going, Bart? -Terrible.
Cars slow down to laugh at me, but no one's buying.
Maybe you need to play on their sympathies more. Let's see...
Ha, now you look pathetic.
Ha-ha!
Aw, lemonade sucks!
I need a new product.
Let's see... Ah!
Form a line. No crowding.
Cheap beer and a sympathetic ear. Step right up.
Hey, Bart, can you give me one on credit? I'm a little short this week.
Beat it.
Hey, you got a liquor license here, young fella?
Uh... my dog ate it.
Got to have a license to sell beer.
Hey! Writing all those tickets
must make you guys thirsty.
How about a couple on the house?
Seeing how it's a first offense...
I guess we can overlook this.
-Mm-hmm. -(both chuckle)
So long, officers.
Uh-oh.
Hey, what's all the-- (screams)
My beer! My beer!
My beautiful beer!
MARGE: The poor boy is so desperate.
He wants to earn money to buy a comic book.
A comic book?
Oh, my. Boys never change.
Which one is it, Nazi Smasher?
I don't think so.
Send him over to my house.
I got a few chores he could do.
He knows how to mix whitewash, don't he?
-(crows cawing) -Mrs. Glick?
You must be Bert Simpson.
Well, you look like you got a strong, young back.
Would you like something to eat?
I got dried apricots, almond paste,
sauerkraut candy.
No, thanks. Who's that?
Oh, that's my brother Esa.
He was killed in the Great War.
Held a grenade too long.
This one's for you, Kaiser Bill.
Special delivery from Uncle Sam and all the boys in "D" company--
Yeah, Johnny, Harrison, Brooklyn Bob and Reggie.
Yeah, even Reggie.
He ain't so stuck up once you get to--
(explosion)
(gulp)
Here, have some ribbon candy.
-Boys love candy. -No, thanks.
-Boys love candy! -Eww!
I think I'd rather just get to work, ma'am.
We'll start with a little light yard work,
and when you're done, you can have a nice barley pop.
I want you to clear out all the weeds.
You do know which ones are weeds?
-All of them? -Good boy.
Now be careful with these.
I'll be inside watching my stories.
(sighs)
(grunting)
Ow!
Ow! Ooh!
Jack, please. I'm married.
That must be what's turning me on.
Oh, stop it. Some more.
Filthy...
but genuinely arousing.
-Finished. -Merciful heavens!
You're bleeding.
I'll get the iodine.
(mumbling) Now, let's see....
bunion pad... liver...
iodine.
Now don't fidget.
Listen, lady, you don't have--
(long scream)
MRS. GLICK: They never improved on iodine.
Hi, Mom.
Did you make any money?
Not yet, but at least I'm in a lot of pain.
Well, I think what you're doing for Mrs. Glick is very nice.
Poor old thing doesn't have anybody.
There's a reason.
The sludge certainly collects
around those downspouts, don't it?
I'll sludge you, you old bat.
Today, we wash Beulah. You know what that is?
Some old lady thing nobody's heard about for fifty years?
No.
It was my wedding dress.
But then I dyed it black
and it became my mourning dress.
Great story, lady.
Last night I dreamed I held you in my arms.
(cat growling)
(yowling)
No, no, not the iodine!
Burn the germs off with a torch
amputate my arm, but not the...
(screaming)
Well, it's payday.
I'll wager you've been looking forward to this.
Oh, yes, ma'am.
Here we are-- two quarters.
Two quarters?
You deserve every penny.
You know, I've told a lot of my girlfriends about you
and they have chores too.
Two quarters?
Bart, you didn't say thank you.
Listen, lady, I can leave without screaming,
and I can leave without saying a bad word.
But there is no way that I am saying thank you.
You're welcome.
All right then, off you go
to spend it on penny whistles and Moon Pies.
(door slams)
BART: Moon Pies, my butt.
Somebody ought to Moon-Pie her.
What's the problem, boy?
I been bustin' my hump all week for that withered old clam
and all I got was 50¢.
Hey, when I was your age, 50¢ was a lot of money.
-Really? -Nah.
Dad, I've done everything I could
and I've only got 35 bucks.
(groans) I am through with working.
-Working is for chumps. -Son, I'm proud of you.
I was twice your age before I figured that out.
(gasps)
Can you let me have it for $40?
40 bucks? Forget it. You made me get off my stool for that?
It's all I've got. I sold seeds.
I visited my aunt in the nursing home.
I fished a dime out of the sewer, for God's sake!
No way. What do you want?
Can I have it for 35?
No! No. Freaking kids. I do not need this.
I've got a Masters degree in Folklore and Mythology.
Do you have the Carl Yastrzemski baseball card from 1973,
when he had big sideburns?
Show me the 30 bucks,
because if you ain't got it, I ain't getting off the stool.
Okay.
Wait a minute.
Martin, if you, Milhouse and I went in together
we could buy a copy of Radioactive Man #1 right now.
-Wow! -Wow!
-Here you go. Muttonchop Yaz. -I don't want it.
-Freaking kids. -Look pal, we got 100 bucks
and we'd like to buy Radioactive Man #1.
So why don't you just waddle over there
-and get it! -Yes, sir!
Wow!
-Breathe it in, boys. -(sniffing)
This is the stuff dreams are made of.
It smells like my grandpa.
-(thunder rumbles) -Uh-oh, looks like rain.
We better get this baby home.
Uh-oh.
Looks like you bought more than you bargained for.
-(fiendish laughter) -(thunderclap)
MAN'S VOICE: My pants-- (straining)
...caught on barbed wire!
Good Lord! Choke! An A-bomb!
-Yaarrgh! -(explosion)
(grunts)
Becoming radioactive.
(deep, powerful voice) From this day forward I shall call myself...
-Radioactive Man! -So that's how it happened.
I would have thought being hit by an atomic bomb would've killed him.
-Now you know better. -Turn the page, Bart.
BART: Careful, careful. Ah.
Listen, you guys are welcome to come over
and read it any time you like.
Why can't we keep it at my house?
Your house? That's crazy talk.
Well the comic's ours as much as it is yours.
How about this, guys?
Bart can have it Mondays and Thursdays,
Milhouse will get it Tuesdays and Fridays,
and yours truly will take it Wednesdays and Saturdays.
-Perfect. -Wait a minute.
-What about Sunday? -Yeah. What about Sunday?
Well, Sunday possession will be determined by a random number generator.
I will pick the digits one through three, Milhouse, four through six,
-and Bart will have seven through nine. -Perfect.
Wait a minute. What about zero?
-Yeah. What about zero? -Yeah.
Well, in the unlikely event of a zero,
possession will be determined by rock, scissors, paper competition.
Best three out of five, how's that?
-All right. -That's cool.
Excellent. Well, today being Saturday,
gentlemen, I guess I'll be taking my comic and...
-Uh-uh-uh. -Nice try, Martin.
It almost worked,
but tonight this comic book stays right here.
If the comic stays right here, then so do I.
Me too.
Fine. We're all going to stay here with the comic book.
It will be like a sleep-over. Yeah, a sleep-over.
That's what pals do, right? Real friendly-like.
(wind blowing)
I want to read it again.
Nice try, mister.
Milhouse, The acids in your hand
could damage the newsprint.
We want to keep this comic forever
so the last one alive
will have the honor of being buried with it.
What do you mean, "The last one alive"?
-I meant years from now. -Yeah, sure you did.
Bart, don't push him.
I knew it-- you're both against me.
Nobody makes a sap out of Bartholomew J. Simpson.
-Quit it! -You quit it.
No, you quit it.
(all choking)
I thought you boys
might like some milk and microwave s'mores.
-(gasping) Thank you, Mrs. Simpson. -Thanks, Mom.
Sweet dreams, boys.
(all crunching )
(thunder)
One more step, and you're a dead man.
I have to go to the bathroom, Bart.
Yeah right, so do I,
-but you don't see me getting up. -What's going on?
Our dear friend Martin was trying to steal the comic book.
Let's tie him up!
(thunder)
Bart, is this how you treat all your guests?
Quiet, Piggy, or we'll stick an apple in your mouth.
We can't take any chances. We'll have to take turns watching him.
Okay. I'll go first.
Ah! So that's your little game.
Let old Bart get nice and drowsy
then when his back is turned, wham!
-Well, it will not happen, see? -You're going crazy, Bart.
I'm telling your Mom.
Hey, Martin, tell him what we do with squealers.
I don't know. Is it worse than
what you do with people who have to go to the bathroom?
You can't stop me.
The hell I can't.
(both grunting)
MARGE: Homer, it's really coming down.
Could you check on the boys?
They're fine.
-Whoa! -Yeow!
Bart! The comic!
Don't let go of me, Bart!
Milhouse, it's not that far to the ground.
The rain's probably softened it up a bit.
No, Bart, no!
You know, if you guys hadn't tied me up,
I could be saving the comic as we speak.
Shut up... shut up!
Help me, Bart. I didn't even want the comic.
I wanted Carl Yastrzemski with the big sideburns.
(grunting)
(ripping)
(sighs)
(growling)
(gasping)
(thunder clap)
(groaning)
Boys, you better come in the house.
-You don't want to get the sniffles. -Oh, Mom.
Oh, now, come on.
Hmm. You can play your little tie-up game inside.
I've got some cocoa on the stove.
Who wants imitation marshmallows?
-I do! -I do!
I'd raise my hand, Mrs. Simpson, if I could.
(birds chirping)
(yawning)
D-oh!
It's no use, fellas.
Another comic book
has returned to the Earth from whence it came.
We worked so hard and now it's all gone.
We ended up with nothing
because the three of us can't share.
What's your point?
Nothing. Just kind of ticks me off.
RADIOACTIVE MAN: Well, the world is safe again
but... for how long?
♪♪
Shh!
CAPTIONS ENHANCED BY ROUNDABOUT ENTERTAINMENT INC.