CHOIR: ♪ The Simpsons ♪
WIGGUM: Yeah, I know Ralphie's birthday is coming up.
Of course I'm gonna get him a present.
I'm at the... the toy store right now.
Let's see, present for Ralph, present for Ralph.
Ooh, what do we have here?
Boy, Ralph would kill himself with this in two seconds.
And somehow it'd be my fault.
Mm!
This money has been sitting here since 1998,
not doing anybody any good.
I want to get Ralphie something nice.
Yeah, a few thousand should do. Hm-mm.
(whistling a tune)
Uh, you heard me whistling there, right?
That indicates innocence.
Uh, proclaiming your innocence indicates guilt.
Oh, yeah? Well, what does this mean?
♪ Skiddily bop and bah! ♪
(whoops)
(engine revving, tires squealing)
Okay, so at a Ralph party, always get to the cake before...
Too late.
(both gasp)
BART: That's the best damn tree house I've ever seen!
(heavenly music plays)
Fine. I'll rub my eyes the other way.
(inspiring orchestral fanfare plays)
D'oh!
(lively chatter, laughter)
Whee!
Whee...!
Whoa!
The September issue!
(gentle classical music plays)
Ooh! Free wood!
(Homer whoops)
(groans) Oh.
My tree house sucks.
Haw haw!
(singsongy) You have class envy!
(slurring) Nelson, honey,
I told you to stop sayin' "haw haw."
Give me a dollar and I'll stop.
I don't got a dollar.
Haw haw!
(hums happily)
Do you want to practice your speech on me?
(chuckles) No need, honey.
Same speech I give every year.
The opening joke about Lenny's grandma always kills.
You can't joke about her.
They just put her on life support.
What?! No! She's the linchpin!
It's okay, it's okay.
Everyone is terrified of public speaking.
But just in case, I'll defrost a failure ham.
(dramatic musical stinger)
You don't have faith in me! I have savers.
If I get heckled, I'll say, "Get a half-life!"
I'm sure that'll be funny to them.
Mm! (kisses)
(whimpers)
Calm down, Homer.
Just leave your body.
Oh, no!
What the hell is this?!
(humming happily)
(startled grunt)
Ooh, throwing away your "No Girls" sign?
Is it time for you to have "the talk" with your dad?
Because he's gonna have to read a few things first.
No. I'm tearing it down.
Ralph has a cool tree house, and mine sucks.
Well, Bart, your father built it,
and he did the very best he could.
(grunting)
I did my job. Now it's your turn, tree.
Get growing.
I'll tell you what, why don't I spruce it up for you. Huh?
But you're an inside grown-up.
Moms can't build tree houses.
You realize that saying that
is gonna make this mom work her keister off
to make you the best darn tree house you ever saw!
Sounds good.
(screams)
Don't worry.
You forget, most of that's hair.
BURNS: (chuckles) So I said,
"Get a half-life!"
(laughter)
(laughs)
Funny and handsome. And I hear he's loaded.
(chuckles) Yes.
Now, to end this perfect day on the perfect note,
Mr. Homer Simpson.
(footsteps echoing)
(footsteps echoing louder)
(man coughs)
You're gonna do great, Homer. You're gonna kill.
You're gonna-- Oh, where did all these people come from?!
-(gunshot) -Aah!
Uh, uh...
Webster's Dictionary defines... a speech
as a... series of words that...
-(murmuring) -elo... quently...
I've never seen anyone bomb like that.
Yeah. I really feel badly for the guy.
-Boo! -Boo!
(crowd booing)
(whimpering, shuddering)
I'm a failure.
Shall I release the hounds, sir?
Mm, the therapy hounds.
Oh, oh, I feel a little better.
Now release the real hounds.
(dogs barking, snarling)
(screaming)
It's a pretty good seminar this year.
Dad, what's wrong? Did your speech go badly?
How do you know something's wrong?
You're drinking from a can of corn.
Hmm? Eh.
Aw, Dad, do you know Barbra Streisand
once forgot the words to a song
and didn't perform in public again for nearly three decades?
Yeah, but she still had James Brolin to cuddle.
So, on a scale of ten to ten, how'd you do?
Um...
(water dripping)
♪ Drip drop, you flop ♪
♪ Drip drop, you flop, drip drop, you flop, ♪
-♪ Drip drop, you flop ♪ -♪ Fail, fail, fail ♪
-♪ Drip drop, you flop... ♪ -♪ Fail, fail... ♪
What the hell is your problem, idiot?!
-(kettle whistling) -(Homer gasping)
I don't know!
(sobbing) I don't know!
(whimpers)
I know what will cheer you up.
We'll go to the comedy club downtown.
Downtown? With all those desperate addicts?
Oh, the city cleaned them up and made them comics.
Cool!
Homie, you're gonna chuckle your blues away.
This is the best kind of comedy.
-No writers. -Amen to that, Marge.
And I appreciate this, but I really resent
the two-drink minimum!
You always drink more than two drinks.
But no one makes me.
Three Long Island iced teas, please.
Okay, we're gonna perform a little improv.
First we need a location.
Uh, 40.7 degrees north latitude,
74 degrees west longitude.
Ah, yes, New York City.
Now we need a relationship for me and Cathy here.
Loveless marriage!
(laughs) Okay, I heard loveless marriage.
These guys are pros.
All they did was ask for two premises.
That's two more than you've asked for.
(sighs) Oh, boy.
All right, all we need now is an object.
Anyone.
(quietly) Fear of public speaking.
Sorry, didn't hear that.
Oh... fear of public speaking.
Maybe he has trouble talking in the dark.
Hey, Jerry, bring up number seven.
(shrieks)
No! Jerry, no!
Aah! No! Aah!
Jerry, stop it! No!
Stop... Aah!
Oh, no! Oh-ho-ho! Aah! Oh!
Okay, okay, okay, um... fear of public speaking.
Well, that's not really an object,
but we'll make it work.
New York City, loveless marriage,
fear of public speaking.
They've pulled back the bow; now let the arrow take flight.
You know, I'm gonna move over a seat.
We now take you to an apartment on 68th and Columbus Avenue.
(trembling) Oh... eek...
aah... aah... ooh...
What? What? Cathy, what's wrong?
I-I... I-I...
I... ah-ah-ah... ah...
Aw, for heaven's sakes, Cathy, when we got married,
you used to speak for hours.
But since we moved to New York City, nothing!
-(crowd laughing) -Wow. It all magically fits.
Come on, Cathy, say something! Anything!
(Italian accent) Fuggedaboutit!
(laughter, applause)
And scene!
I said "fear of public speaking."
Yes, you did. Very nice. Return to your seat immediately.
Wow. Wow. These guys do everything I can't.
Maybe they can teach me.
I don't know that they're interested in that.
$500 for the first eight classes.
That's kind of expensive.
Couldn't people just form their own groups for free?
And scene.
Uh, uh... excuse me, is this the, uh,
improv class?
Yes, and... come in.
Sit anywhere?
Yes, and... be quiet.
HOMER: This is it.
I feel my mind exploding with premises.
♪ ♪
So many ideas,
but how do I turn them into comedy?
♪ Oh, kiss me ♪
♪ Beneath the milky twilight... ♪
(chuckling)
Homer, could-could you stay with us, please?
I don't know how.
The secret is to lose yourself
and become, say, a suicidal auctioneer.
I could not possibly imagine what such a person would say.
Well, just remember, it's-it's not you.
Don't you get it? The secret to life
has been right in front of you all along:
Don't be yourself!
Uh, uh, okay.
What am I bid for this noose?
Do hear $100?
No?
Going... going...
(chokes)
(laughter)
That's great! Really took my mind off my sick grandmother.
-(phone chimes) -Oh.
Looks like the hospital left a message.
-(voice breaking) Gotta go. -HOMER: See ya!
(laughs) It made me laugh.
-So, then you pay me? -No, never!
And if you open your own school, we'll break your legs!
You want to give him the one we can never crack?
Queen of Norway buying a car.
(high-pitched) Oh, dear! I can't a-fjord it!
A star is born.
(grunting)
Excuse me.
I'm from the city. Are you aware that you live
in a historical tree house preservation district?
♪ ♪
May I see your permits?
I don't have permits.
-(screams) -Don't worry.
D-Don't worry. I'll take care of it.
(grunting)
I've got to hand it to you, Dad.
You went from fear of public speaking
to starting your own improv troupe.
Improv is exciting, but totally safe.
Like driving a helicopter on the ground.
Um, that's not safe.
Don't deny the premise. That's anti-improv.
Note for new character, "Auntie Improv."
(high-pitched) May I hear a suggestion?
People, don't freak out,
but the improv critic from the Springfield Shopper
is in the audience.
(gasps) Steve Thurlson?
No, Thurlson is their improv reporter.
Grant Hood is their improv critic.
Then who's Jennifer Whitehead?
Oh, she writes improv think pieces.
You know, trends, big picture stuff.
Who does the top ten list
at end-of-year "Best of Improv" issue?
They each write their own.
-(all murmuring assent) -Oh, yeah.
I forgot about that. That's true.
Huh!
(piano riff playing)
(crowd cheers)
Hi, everybody.
We are "Premises, Premises."
Yes, it says on Google that there are 5,012 improv groups
with that name.
LENNY: Take it, Homer.
(nervously) Uh, okay, I need a location.
Uh, Jackson Square in New Orleans.
And a type of person that might be there.
Someone with confidence.
Mm, I...
(Cajun accent) I ga-ron-tee it!
(laughter, cheering)
So, Tuesday is the tree house warming.
Nelson's gonna show us his mom's bra.
(gasps)
That's the thing that boobs touch.
Whoa, automatic blinds.
Yeah, I think my mom put those in.
No need to thank her.
She's just doing her job.
(grumbles)
The Keebler Elves are real!
Pass the gravy, Bart.
Yo.
Thank you.
Geez, who ordered the crab?
(gasps) There's crab?
There's no crab.
There's no "thank yous," no appreciation.
Nothing.
Uh, who was that directed at?
Bart!
Whew! Pass the gravy, please.
(phone chimes)
(gasps) Dad! Dad!
The Springfield Fringe Festival just invited us to perform!
Huh? What's a "Fringe Festival"?
My guess would be it's a three-day series of performances
by alternative comedy and music acts,
including, but not limited to,
improv, stand-up, light circus work and ironic burlesque.
We're gonna be on the main stage on closing night!
This is going in my log.
Yay!
(chuckles) More crab for me.
MARGE: There's no crab!
Mm!
(humming happily)
(grunts, slurps)
Mmm!
(Marge grunting)
Aw, Marge, don't take it to heart.
Kids are ungrateful; that's their job.
You can cheer up watching me at the Fringe Festival.
Good for you.
The main stage, closing night, all eyes on you.
Wh-Wh-Wh-What... what are you saying?
Oh, she's making me nervous again.
But now I'm a trained comedy amateur.
No one can get in my head.
MARGE: Marge Simpson,
you don't want to accidentally undermine him like last time.
Oh, thank God he doesn't know what I'm thinking.
I know exactly what she's thinking.
That if I mess this up, I'll be worse off than ever.
He does know.
She knows I know!
(Homer and Marge scream)
-Homer? -(muffled) Aw, what?
I slept on it, and I'm madder than ever.
Go get Bart.
Oh, my God, Marge,
you woke up with morning-would-be-mad.
Okay, I'll put this in your new language.
Location: Bart's room.
Action: bring him here.
Can I get a character, please?
Fine. Um...
A near-sighted Frankenstein.
Okay.
(growling)
Bride! Bride!
I do not look like the Bride of Frankenstein.
Don't deny premise.
(growls)
(knocking on door)
(grunts)
BART: Mom, can I come in?
You like your eggs a little runny don't you?
-What? -And your toast set at four,
with a little bit of butter?
Yeah!
Hash browns might be a little burnt.
I like 'em however you make 'em, sweetie.
I just wanted to say
I'm sorry.
We all forget just how many wonderful things you do.
Oh... (gasps)
(voice breaking) Y-You're making me cry.
-(sobs) -And best of all,
you're as hot as the day I met you.
(sobs) Thank you!
That apology speech you wrote worked like a charm, Pop.
Your mother can't resist an apology
that comes straight from the heart.
Of this box.
Oh, dear God,
this is not a Renaissance Faire, is it?
Uh, that's in two weeks, Henry the Weight Problem. Ha!
Gee, I don't know if I belong here with all this talent.
(goofy voice) Hey, Reverend.
Why didn't the dinosaurs make it on Noah's Ark?
(normal voice) Ooh, I give up.
(goofy voice) Because they didn't exist.
(laughter)
(carnival music plays)
Dad, this festival encourages experimentation.
Even failure.
Oh, what if I don't fail?
Desperate times call for desperate measures.
I am getting a helium balloon.
That makes anyone funny.
(high helium voice) Be right back!
(Homer retching)
Homer, are you okay?
You look exactly like Barbara Streisand did in 1967.
I can't think of anything funny.
Homer, Homer, relax, you're a riot.
Remember how funny you was when you was the confident Cajun?
Look, just let me feed you the prompt.
Wait, you mean cheat at improv?
What would Del Close say?
He would say, "Do like Moe says, and shut the hell up."
Who's Del Close?
Only the author of the best book I intend to read someday.
Homer, the cemeteries are filled with people
who didn't cheat at improv.
Hmm.
Okay, let's go over what you're gonna call out one more time.
Uh, ethnicity: Cajun.
Location: back alley.
Good, good.
The back alley Cajun bit.
LISA: (high helium voice) Dad!
Are you cheating by planting suggestions?
-Maybe. -(gasps)
(normal voice) Have you learned nothing
from owning an unread copy of Truth in Comedy?
It's either that or quit the show.
You can't let your troupe down.
They need your space work, your strong choices
and scene-building skills.
Hey, lay off your dad, huh?
Everything that's supposedly spontaneous
has already been planned, okay?
Reality shows, uh, lip-sync singing, even...
(dramatic voice) award shows.
No!
Yes. That's why the losers don't show up.
B-B-But they have scheduling conflicts.
Yeah, right.
Dave Franco has a scheduling conflict.
No, no, I've heard enough.
I refuse to use performance enhancing "sugs."
-(murmuring) -It's Homer Simpson.
Homer Simpson's here.
(crowd continues murmuring excitedly)
Okay, everyone, I'm Homer Simpson,
and I need an occupation.
Cadaver salesman?
Drive-thru cashier.
Uh, frog gigger.
Finger kisser! Mwah!
Nurse.
You'll have to be more specific.
I need a nurse!
Back alley Cajun!
Mm-hmm!
Ah...
A father I can look up to.
Oh. Um, uh...
I hear... drive-thru cashier!
BOTH: You wha...?!
Hello, welcome to "Down-and-Out Burger."
Would you like fries with that?
-(laughter) -A thousand?
Sure thing, Mr. Brando.
By the way, this is 1992.
(Homer chuckles, crowd laughing)
And now we're gonna do something a little special.
Our father is gonna improv live answers to questions
from the TV audience.
It only took us 27 years to do what they could do in 1954.
Homer, time to bomb.
Hello! I've gathered you here
because I have an important announcement.
This is the last episode of The Simpsons.
It's been a good run--
Ah, just kidding!
The Simpsons will never end!
But I do have bad news.
If you're seeing this,
something has gone horribly, horribly wrong.
Or you're watching the international version.
In either case, I have three minutes to fill.
And I can think of no better way to fill that time
than to throw my hat into the ring for U.S. President.
I have no previous experience, no endorsements,
and no idea when the election is.
That makes me the most qualified.
By far.
I can beat Trump and Clinton and Sanders.
Stupid Sanders.
I will make America great again.
Then not so great.
I will keep you on your toes.
I will not run for a second term.
I will walk.
I will drill, baby, drill,
until I find the river of chocolate
that lies beneath Hershey, Pennsylvania.
I will not only leave Gitmo open,
I will open Gitmo's tavern.
I believe that no one, whatever his or her gender,
should have to use the bathroom after I do.
I am a winner!
If the superdelegates oppose me,
I will destroy them with kryptonite.
I plan to win on the first, second, and third ballots.
Maybe take a breather on the fourth,
and come back strong on the fifth.
And I'll get rid of the boring Olympic events.
Like all of them.
I will increase American exports,
starting with my two stupid sister-in-laws.
Uh...
sister-in-laws...?
Let's just call them "American Uglies."
Soon to be "Canadian Sevens."
I would also like to apologize
for the horrible thing I just said about Canada.
And so, I withdraw.
I throw my endorsement to Jeb Bush,
and I trust it's not too late.
In conclusion, God bless America,
and God bless Springfield, in the beautiful state of--
Oh, wait. I'm afraid my time is up.
-(crowd murmuring) -Shh!
Subtitled by Jimmy Boots