CHOIR: ♪ The Simpsons ♪
(exclaiming)
(school bell ringing)
(Barney belches)
(whistle blows)
LENNY: Oh, not again!
(beeping)
(playing theremin)
(tires screeching)
D'oh!
(tires screeching)
(grunts)
(soft, whimsical music)
-(phone line ringing) -Eh, hello?
-Bart! -(cash register dings)
Hell no!
D'oh!
(crumpling paper)
(can opening)
-(Homer munching food) -Mmm.
(clock ticking)
(grunts)
HOMER: D'oh!
(clock ticking, bell chimes)
(snoring)
-Homer! Do something. -(shrieks)
(laughs)
(glass shattering)
(distressed sounds)
(twinkle sound)
-(whistle blows) -LENNY: Quittin' time!
CARL: Quittin' time.
HOMER: Thank God it's Friday.
LENNY: Thursday.
HOMER: Same thing. See you Monday.
Marge, baby, I'm out the door.
Are you sure?
Because sometimes people say they're out the door
when they really haven't left yet.
Those people are horrible, horrible liars.
See you soon.
Simpson, not so fast.
Hold up one end of this poster.
Now use it to conceal this.
(air hissing)
Excellent.
Now, let me just crank up the plumb bob
to determine the vertical.
(crank squeaking)
(chuckles) With this mechanical marvel,
we'll have this poster level in under three hours.
(chuckles)
-(crank continues squeaking) -(Homer whimpers)
Ooh, and for a little excitement,
how about a plumb bob song?
Uh... (stammers)
All right. Um...
♪ One must never, never ♪
♪ Never rush ♪
♪ The plumb bob ♪
♪ Slow is the way ♪
♪ The only way to go ♪
♪ Clear your schedule ♪
♪ Before you use the plumb bob ♪
♪ Yes, the plumb bob ♪
♪ Is mighty, mighty ♪
♪ Mighty ♪
(drawn out) ♪ Slow... ♪
(carrying note)
MARGE: Okay.
Maggie's had her bath,
dinner's on the stove. Hmm.
Dare I pop a cork?
(British accent) Give me a spin, Marge.
You're so deft.
Not like... (shudders) him.
Mom. Mom!
My costume for the science play is all wrong!
You said you were a seahorse.
A male seahorse.
With a pouch.
Males have pouches?
Male seahorses' nurturing is one of the wonders of the world.
You said you read the script.
Bart gave me a synopsis.
I... (groans)
Oh, boy.
-(garage door opening and closing) -Oh, now what?
Eat your carrot and pea medley.
(groans)
Mom, I'll clean that up for you.
Oh, thank God, some help.
-Where's the mop? -In the mop closet.
-Where's the bucket? -Under the mop.
Other closet.
There's stuff in front of it.
(loud groan)
Let me help.
-(bubbling, fizzing) -Ay, caramba!
Hey, there's wood underneath this linoleum.
(groans) Just go play outside.
Outside? Your loss.
(humming happily)
(children chattering)
I do not get what kids see in these places.
(clanking)
It's the genie of the sub.
Genie? I wish.
You get a lamp and a carpet,
which is more than I got in here.
Hmm, didn't know this place was filled with such losers.
Hey, Martin.
Bartholomew!
This playground has safely stimulated my imagination.
What the hell are you talking about?
Martin. (chuckles)
Who's your new friend?
(whispers) Mother, don't blow this for me.
Fine, I'll just go sit and talk to his mother.
Where is she?
I'm here by myself.
-But I have a safety number. -(phone line ringing)
MOE: Moe's Tavern. Homer ain't here.
And for once, that's the truth.
(keys beeping)
(siren wailing)
(tires screech, siren stops)
Simpson, are you here unsupervised?
Yeah. And so what?
I'd lose the attitude, "Sylvester Alone."
(chuckles)
Finally, a laugh out of Lou.
Son, kids aren't allowed on their own anymore.
Now, who said you could come here?
My mom.
Ugh. Always the mom.
(siren wailing)
-(Flanders yells) -(tires screech)
(grunting)
(screams)
She's got needles.
(clicking)
(exhales) What did Bart do now?
I was playing nicely in the park.
Bart, how could you-- What?
Your children need to be supervised.
Take her away, boys.
If you take me away, then who's gonna watch my kids?
You should've thought of that
before we showed up unannounced.
What, Marge?
You're being arrested?
I'm afraid so, Mr. Simpson.
A mother at the park saw something she disapproved of.
And luckily for your son, she overreacted.
♪ ♪
I, uh... I get carsick in the front.
(Wiggum chuckles)
Our top story, a Springfield mother
has been arrested for an outrageous "negligée."
The...
Sorry, I'm being told it's "negligence."
Which is very boring.
Judge, I don't understand.
When I was a kid, we used to go out and play
and not come home until dark.
I see. Bailiff, incarcerate Marge Simpson's mother.
(squeaks)
Thanks for ratting me out, Marge.
(muffled talking)
With all due respect, Judge, this is wackadoodle.
Nobody cares about their kids more than I do.
Liar.
Marge is right, Your Honor.
My e-mail password is "bad dad."
-(gallery gasps) -Yeah, Judge.
If you want to know who should be in jail,
he weighs 240 and smells like onions.
It is not within the purview of this court
to determine how fat and smelly your father may be.
Woo-hoo!
Mrs. Simpson, 90 days.
(gasps)
This is Kafkaesque.
Kafkaesque!
I've got my eye on you.
Now it's Orwellian.
(hinges squeaking)
Hey, kitties. You got a new ball of yarn.
(door slams)
Oh, that guard is awfully slammy.
Newbies on top.
Oh. Where's the ladder?
Have you been claimed yet?
-Claimed? -By one of the book clubs.
(sighs)
Yeah, we read a little, dig a little,
read a little, dig a little,
kiss a little, dig a little.
(nervous groan)
(birds chirping)
Homer, I think you're supposed to cook sausage.
What's the point?
(knocking on door)
Well, hi there, Homer.
I know a time like this is when a man really needs his neighbor.
Yeah, well, thanks for the check-in.
(chuckles) Well, this is more than a check-in.
It's a chance to do good for us boys in the hood!
Just call us NWA, "Neighbors With Appetizers."
(sobbing)
Wow, wow.
I really am the richest man in town.
Not rich in money,
but in what really matters: pity.
And what happened to Marge is a wake-up call for us all.
There's no greater crime than half-assed parenting.
Kirk, where's Milhouse?
On the leash, baby. On the leash.
He's too far.
Retract. Retract!
Whoa! Why'd you pull me back?
Some new kids were just about to give me a chance.
Don't try anything new, son.
I could've married a woman who didn't look exactly like me.
(chuckling) But that would've been crazy.
(door slams shut)
Hey, newbie.
Nobody touches the new James Patterson
until Solar reads it first.
(moans, yelps)
She wants you to pick it up.
-(laughter) You scared, huh? -(clucking)
(sighs)
(grumbling)
(growling)
-(gasping) -Oh! Whoa, whoa, whoa. Whoa.
Anybody else want a taste of Blue Thunder?
Uh, I do. Yeah. (grunts)
Now, if you ladies recall what this place
is supposed to be for...
-Mm... -Smokin' weed?
Reading!
(sighs)
(chewing sounds)
Dad, if this is what they send when Mom goes to jail,
just imagine what happens when you kick the bucket.
-(burps) -Oh, man, that's gonna be so awesome.
Dad, Dad! You're eating a teddy bear!
That's my stomach's problem.
Okay, Homer, I just changed all the linens,
diapered the dog for modesty,
and replaced the batteries in the smoke detectors,
which were all bad.
One was just a candy dish with a red light painted on.
Was there any candy in it?
There is now.
(laughs) Oh, Flanders.
It turns out there's a good side to you after all.
Well, sir, maybe I know a little bit about what it's like
to lose the lady of the house. (sniffles)
Oh, I think I heard a dryer ding.
Thank you, Mr. Flanders.
Tell your boys I want to hang.
Flanders is great.
I've always said that.
But we can't forget your mother.
(shuddering) Oh...
♪ ♪
MARGE: Oh, my first prison flower.
Can it be? Am I starting to like it in here?
Exercise time!
Ooh.
I never have time to exercise.
Is this a prison or a spa?
Aah! It's a prison. (grunts)
-(birds chirping) -(munching sounds)
(munching continues)
Hey, uh, are there any more chocolate chip muffins?
Sorry, Dad. The only ones left have caraway seeds.
(crying) Oh. I miss your mother so much.
Shockingly, these gift baskets haven't solved anything.
Wait, Dad. That one that looks like blueberry
actually has M&M'S.
Oh. Oh, thank God. Everything's okay.
But for how long?
LISA: Mom, I really, really miss you.
Also, I have a field trip form
that needs to be signed for school.
I think if I mail it to you at the prison
it's still easier than getting it from Dad.
BART: I want to talk to Mom.
Can you send me a shiv for show and tell?
Preferably with blood on it.
Hey, give me the phone. (grunts)
Are my blue pants done at the prison laundry?
Remember to sign my form.
Shiv with blood.
-Press my pants. -(dial tone)
(gasps) The electric chair.
And then he thought it was the electric chair.
(all laughing)
8:00. Lights out.
Really? 8:00? I get to go to bed?
I don't have to clean a sink full of dishes,
or write a paragraph with topic sentence
for Homer?
(sighs heavily)
Aw, you're tired too.
Everyone goes to sleep so easily here.
Marge, your positivity is contagious.
I'm starting to believe I really will show everyone.
Simpson, you got a visitor.
Oh, gee, now? It's a shame to go inside.
Okay, let's move in the body now.
(groaning sigh)
Marge, I got great news.
We hired the one good lawyer in town.
Yes, Mrs. Simpson, I got you off on a technicality.
Since your husband never filed for a birth certificate,
Bart isn't legally your son.
Mm? Mm?
How about that?
Why aren't you saying anything, Marge?
You're free. Free.
Now, it's not the world you remember.
The girl at the coffee place that left?
Came back.
So you'll have that to get used to.
I'm free?
Oh, and just in time.
Bart's claiming he's in another dimension,
but I think he's just hiding in the closet.
I had 90 days.
I was promised 90 days.
Now you have to give me more time.
(stammers) Oh, no you don't.
I can't go to another school meeting.
I can't!
Everyone just asks about their own kid.
Hey, you like shopping? 'Cause you just
bought yourself two more months.
(cackles)
Sorry, Homie. I can't go back yet.
Just tell me where the soap for the dishwasher goes
-and how do I... -(lock clicks)
(sighs heavily)
Marge would rather stay in prison than come home to me.
I have to reexamine my entire life.
Yeah, maybe you can start by not bringing your kids to the bar.
(slurping)
Yeah, it's kind of funny-- Homer takes his kids to a saloon,
but Marge is in jail for being a bad parent.
I guess somebody up there likes me.
Do you like him?
Uh, not really, no.
I've got to change, show Marge I can help around the house.
More than just turning up the TV when she vacuums.
I've got to become the perfect homemaker.
-(phone ringing) -♪ ♪
(laughs)
(giggling)
Oh...
(gulping)
(phone rings)
Oh, I was doing so great,
but it turned out I was a secret alcoholic.
Yeah, good thing it's just your imagination.
(gulping)
Oh, yeah.
When we said we'd take turns watching all the kids,
I never thought it would be my turn.
-(humming) -Why did I get the choke chain?
Go around this side of the tree.
This side of the tree. This side of the tree!
-No, Ralph. No! -(humming)
(giggles) Hi, Mr. Bobcat.
(bobcat growls)
You're in charge, boy.
(grunting)
-(bobcat growling) -Now, listen, bobcat.
(Homer screaming)
Are you as sick as I am of having grown-ups
-everywhere you go? -(others agreeing)
I say we sneak off to the park and have fun by ourselves.
Great idea. I'll text my mom.
(gasps) My Jitterbug senior phone!
OPERATOR: Jitterbug call center.
If you've fallen and need assistance, press one.
If you're lonely and want to talk, press disconnect.
(steam hissing)
♪ ♪
Oh, I really miss my family.
I thought they were letting you out.
I just wasn't ready for the outside.
I didn't realize how much I needed a break.
But maybe not a prison break.
-Prison break? -Prison break! Yeah!
(women shouting)
(alarm wailing)
All right, all our parents
think we're playing after-school rugby with Willie.
What... where's me scrum?
Time for unsupervised play!
I'm going down the hot slide in shorts.
I'm gonna freckle.
I'm gonna ride the hobbyhorse English style.
(children chattering excitedly)
Finally-- kids having fun the way they were meant to.
It just proves that danger is not the rule,
but the exception.
-Tornado! -(gasps)
(wind whistling)
-(screaming) -(mooing)
This is Kent Brockman covering two of the biggest stories of the year:
a tornado and a prison break,
while I report safely from the Channel Six Emmy Watch bunker.
Arnie Pye, what's the situation?
-I'm-I'm about to die, Kent. -(snarling)
And worst of all is the fact that your voice
is the last one I'll ever hear,
you pompous snow monkey!
-(gasping) -(alarm wailing)
Homer, what are you doing here?
I had to do whatever it takes to get you to leave.
So I dressed up as a prison guard.
Now I'd better not blow my cover.
Get back. Get back.
Okay, a little forward.
-Now back! Back! Back! -(blows landing)
Now forward.
-And back! Back! Back! -(blows landing)
It's very sweet that you came for me.
I know things won't always be perfect-- (grunts)--
but they'll be better than fighting off prison inmates
in a tornado. (grunts)
I believe you.
And I want to go home.
♪ ♪
Mwah.
MAN: Come on, man. Take the shot.
No, I can't. I'll fire a warning shot at her hair.
-(clang) -(grunts)
Oh, she uses too much product.
Don't worry. All the kids are accounted for
except for, uh... Raife Waggum.
Well, I have a sad call to make.
(keys beeping)
(busy signal)
Huh. Busy.
MARGE: Bart, would you like some extra bacon?
Sure would, Mom.
Okay, but you owe me.
Sorry, sorry, force of habit.
It's okay, Mom. Whatever you want, just glad you're back.
Geez, ever since I got sprung from the hoosegow,
you kids have been kind of clingy.
No, Mom, we're just really glad to have you back.
And we're not nuts or anything,
but please don't let the refrigerator door
block my view of you.
BOTH: Aah!
Hmm, I need some spices from the pantry.
I'm coming, too.
-Oh, you're pathetic. -(door opens)
Let me in.
Now, kids, give your mother a little peace and...
Aw.
♪ ♪
Aw.
MARGE: I want to say two things:
I love you guys, and we're out of peanut butter.
-(all laughing) -(Santa's Little Helper barks)
-(phone ringing) -♪ ♪
(gasps)
(laughs)
(theme song playing)
Shh.
Subtitled by B. Everdene