(humming)
(explosion)
Oh, my hallway‐walking God!
I've seen my fair share of workplace atrocities,
but this one's gonna be hard not to whistle‐blow.
Uh, Carlson, how about you forget
any unkillable irradiated airborne entities
you think you saw
and sign this nondisclosure agreement?
I'm sorry, I have no choice but to speak up and say...
what's in it for me?
Guess who just got two VIP concert tickets
to see Bob Seger tonight!
Bob Seger!
Which Bullet Band is he bringing?
Silver!
In that case, I'm closin' shop early.
(humming)
Marge, you know how nothing ever happens to me?
Well, the curse has been lifted!
Oh. I love how excited you are
to chaperone the kids' weekend sleepover
on the World War II battleship.
What?! Chaperoning?
You can't just spring this on me at the last...
(yelping)
D'oh!
Aw, you've got to fill in for me, Marge.
I'd do it for you if you were the husband.
You always get to do the fun thing
and leave me holding the bag.
I'll get you a new bag. A tote from the merch table.
What size are you?
No. I'm watching the Gen Gala red‐carpet arrivals tomorrow.
Can't you just record it and watch it next week
when me and Lenny are at the Hall & Oates concert?
Oh! I'm hosting the watch party.
I have firm commitments from several A‐level gays.
We're all gonna make snarky comments
about celebrities' outrageous outfits.
I'm working up the courage to use the B‐word on a man.
Okay, honey, I give up.
You host your party. I go to the concert.
No field trip for the kids.
It was your decision, so I'll let you tell them.
♪ Yo‐ho, yo‐ho ♪
♪ A field trip life for me. ♪
(sighs)
(horn blares)
- Whoa! - Whoa.
Mommy! Mommy!
I took a bite of my juice box because I forgot!
Ready about, sailors!
Name's Captain Bowditch.
For the next 36 hours, you will be my crew
aboard the USS ship with a name we're not allowed to say anymore
and with good reason.
Now, the year is 1943.
We sailors have fought many battles in the Pacific theater,
but today we face our most vicious enemy yet:
oxidation.
(booing)
Kill those lousy Oxies!
Rust has overtaken the vessel, and I'm giving you three tools
to neutralize the threat: wire brushes, marine paint,
and the remainder of the weekend.
(shouting excitedly)
Chaperones, you will stand watch in six‐hour shifts.
Now, pair up!
Can you imagine getting stuck with Sarah Wiggum
for the whole weekend?
What's she looking for, a personality?
(quiet laughter)
So, I guess we should figure out some system to pair up, like...
Oh.
(sighs)
Hey, Sarah, we've met before.
I'm Bart's mom, Marge.
Hi.
(sighs)
So, overnight field trips‐‐ the things we do for our kids.
Kids.
So...
have you ever been on a battleship before?
Probably.
We're so close, we can read the labels
on the drummer's medications.
Hey, I have that, too.
Mild depression rules!
Eh, nice seats, huh, fellas?
Yeah, Mr. Burns' payoffs are always the best.
Luckily, I was able to get my wife to take over chaperoning
some stupid battleship weekend with Ralphie.
Hey, I saddled my wife with that, too.
Marge and Sarah were okay with that?
Ah, they'll be fine.
Wives, they love that World War II stuff.
(chuckles): Yeah, they're always gifting their husbands
books and movies about it,
but you know they're really buying it them for themselves.
Hmm.
And number ten would be...
oh, "telling a funny story."
What are your top ten ways of starting a conversation?
Talking.
(sighs)
I guess we should get back to the kids.
They're asleep.
What?
Almost midnight? How did it get so late?
Oh. It's only 8:50?
Wait. Did you move the clock ahead
to trick the kids into going to sleep early?
Sarah, I'm impressed.
(gasps) Ooh.
A bottle of pocket alcohol.
(exhales): Ah...
Dang, this is the last place on earth I want to be.
No offense, Marge, but, geez, this field trip sucks!
(gasps) You said all those words!
I'm just quiet.
Even though everyone thinks I'm an idiot.
No, no, we don't think you're an idiot.
We just think you're boring.
(gasps) Oops.
(laughter)
Did you bring this from home?
Actually, I got it from Admiral Dingdong's liquor cabinet.
- It wasn't locked? - Oh, maybe it was.
Uh, wink.
MARGE: Ooh.
I've never done a swig.
Whoa!
(laughter)
Oh, Sarah Wiggum, who are you?
I love Clancy, but you have no idea what it's like
to be married to a man with a dangerous job
he's just not good at.
Actually...
And with the way he eats,
each crust he sucks the cheese out of
could be his last.
Maybe I do understand.
It just takes so much work to be a mom and a wife
and keep the goods in a tight little package,
if you catch my drift.
Sometimes it feels like he...
Takes me for granted!
Why do his last‐minute man‐plans have to ruin
the one day of the year where I get to be catty?
(chuckles): Hell yeah, sister.
Well, you know what? You and me,
we're like two fun peas in a party pod.
We should do more hangouts.
Oh, I'd like that, but there's a reason I keep to myself.
Ooh.
(singsongy): Secret reasons.
(gasps) Oh, no.
What are you doing here?
How did you find me?
Sarah!
Marge!
MARGE: Please take this bag off my head.
I think whoever you kidnapped
before me was a smoker. Ugh!
Why did you bring her into it?
She's just some vanilla soccer mom.
She doesn't know anything.
Hey, once I start bagging heads, I can't stop.
Hey, there, Sarah. I see you're hanging
with the Yankee Candle crowd.
Wait. Y‐You know these people?
Marge, meet Bette and Erin.
They're my old partners.
In a throuple? Who are the original two?
Partners in crime.
You're a criminal?
Jeebus Crackers!
Hi, Mr. Seger.
Boy, you probably don't remember this,
but I saw you at an airport once,
and I was too nervous to say anything,
and then it wasn't you.
We love you, man! We promised our wives
we'd go on some dumb school field trip,
but when we got these tickets, we ditched them so fast.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
You broke a promise to your wives?
A good husband's supposed to be "Like a Rock."
Because we're all running "Against the Wind."
Terrible "Night Moves."
Look at this.
Those aren't tour dates.
They're all the times I've kept commitments to my wife.
"Rock and Roll Never Forgets"
the needs of his coequal life companion.
You sicken me.
Were... were we just Seger‐shamed?
Why, the real silver bullet is truth.
We're terrible husbands.
I never should have left Marge holding the bag.
We've got to go make it up to Bob Seger.
And our wives.
Sarah, you were a crook?
Everything I never knew or cared to wonder about you
has been a lie.
We weren't crooks. We were thieves.
♪ A few times I've been around that track ♪
Sexy, girlie thieves.
♪ I ain't no hollaback girl, I ain't no hollaback... ♪
They never saw us coming,
but they loved to watch us walk away.
There's nothing we wouldn't lift.
Wallets. Watches.
MP3 players that held over a hundred songs.
Man, it was a blast.
Our biggest jobs were brought to us by a gal named Red.
She got a line on some unsupervised diamonds
in a penthouse safe.
I was the driver, and as always...
the honeypot.
Ooh. Ow.
Hey there, blue boy.
I was walking past your big building
and seemed to have sprained my ankle
because of my high flops.
Do you happen to have...
- What, a girlfriend? - ...an icepack?
(both laughing)
I'm sorry. I'm s...
Of course, of course I do.
Uh, this is just my night job, by the way.
I'm, uh, putting myself through the police academy. Yeah.
- Isn't that free? - Well, the first time, yeah.
I love a man in a rented uniform.
(moaning)
The kiss was part of the plan.
But falling head over high flops wasn't.
Clancy...
(siren wailing)
- (gasps) Oh, no. - No, no, don't leave.
Come back to pile.
Uh, I gotta go, blue boy.
- I'm sorry. - Ah, no problem.
- Oh, um, will you marry me? - Probably!
(gasps)
I was supposed to be the getaway driver.
My best friends were arrested.
And it was all my fault.
Oh, cool your jets.
Yeah, hot jets.
ERIN: It wasn't your fault we got busted.
We were set up...
by Red.
(alarm blaring)
(gasping)
She got away with our whole take,
including the Hourglass Diamond.
That backstabbing sack of Spanx.
Wait, so it wasn't my fault you got caught.
Yeah, and if you hadn't gone all horndog on that rent‐a‐cop,
you'd have been locked up, too.
We found Red.
She goes by the name Lindsey Naegle now.
I've heard of her.
She works in various female executive positions around town.
We've got a plan to steal that diamond back from her,
and you're gonna help us.
No, I left that life behind me.
I have a husband now,
and a son who's smart in a way we haven't figured out yet.
Well, it'd be a real shame if the Chief of Police
found out his wife was a common criminal.
(gasps) You never told Clancy?
Let's just say he's always been better
at planting evidence than finding it.
Why don't I just call him now and tell him everything?
I'm in.
Our wives are missing?
Not unheard of.
Most women have such an idealized version
of the Second World War in their heads
that when they meet the cold, hard reality,
they can't face it.
Did you see what happened?
There was but one witness.
Junior Seaman Ralph, give your account of the watch.
The mommies got new face hats, then got into a slidey‐door car.
(chuckles) Don't worry, I speak Ralph.
Face hats? Slidey‐door? (gasps)
God, they were kidnapped!
- (gasps) - And there's only one man bold enough
to kidnap the wives of the chief of police
and his slightly slimmer acquaintance.
Sarah was kidnapped?
Oh, spare me the act. We know it was you.
I spare, I swear.
I need your family to be happy and healthy,
because who else would I say it would be a shame
if something were to happen to?
Okay, but what about one of your cronies?
I assure you, you are a beloved figure
amongst my business brethren.
CLANCY: Mm.
(whispers): You look a lot like that guy Chief Bungles.
But there's no other reason to kidnap Sarah.
She's just my little schmoop‐a‐doop,
and that's all there is to her.
Apparently not. (laughs)
Perhaps your wives were not kidnapped.
Perhaps they left because you are selfish men.
That's the only explanation.
It was all about us.
All right, what's the job?
Naegle sold the jewels she ripped off from us
and became a fancy socialite.
She kept the biggest rock for herself.
The Hourglass Diamond‐‐ it's in her tiara.
And we're gonna steal it back
when she wears it to the Gen Gala, tomorrow.
You're gonna rob the Gen Gala?
Sorry, sorry. Scheme away.
Okay, here's how it's gonna work.
First, we come up through this manhole.
Nope!
Excuse you?
Look, I may not know anything about heists,
but I am the world's biggest superfan of the Gen Gala,
and your plan won't work.
And why not?
If you did any research,
you'd know Beyoncé's going to be carried in
by 20 plus‐size gladiators,
who will form a human pyramid
right on top of your way in.
No heist.
If you're so Kmart smart,
how would you get in?
Well, these entrances will be blocked by fans,
press and authorized stalkers.
The best plan would be to put on a crazy dress
and sneak in through the red carpet.
Although, you wouldn't get far without a publicist
who knows everything about the gala.
- Someone like you? - Yeah.
This vanilla soccer mom could be our secret weapon.
Me? Join the robbery?
(scoffs) No way!
Stealing is one of the big "thou shalt nots."
It's not about the cash.
It's about setting things right.
Lindsey Naegle betrayed us for money and fame,
and all we got are bad prison tattoos.
MARGE: Aw, duckies!
Marge, aren't you tired
of being underestimated and overlooked?
Together, we can right a wrong
and look damn good doing it.
I've always wanted to say this...
I'm in.
♪ ♪
This is Kent Brockman outside
the Museum of Generational Wealth for the annual Gen Gala.
This year's theme is "The Audacity."
A bold contrast to last year's theme:
"The Nerve."
But I'm stuck out here,
where hundreds of nobodies have gathered to watch
dozens of somebodies walk up some stairs.
Should we do this without Marge?
This is her favorite watching‐party of the year.
(booing)
Forget her. I'm jonesing for snark.
Oh, God, would you look at that dress.
Who is the designer, the Great Pacific Garbage Patch?
- Probably? - ALL: Ah...
Ah, that's the good shade.
The plan's working. We look amazing.
Now, let's get those tickets.
The 55 stairs.
The Tanqueray stiletto sharpener.
The Swarovski crystal wheelchair ramp.
‐(gasps) ‐Stop gawking.
Where do we let the other girls in?
Right over there, next to‐‐ Oh, my God!
Rihanna! (gasps)
I listen to the clean versions of all your songs!
Now, let's see if there's any honey left in this pot.
Excuse me, I seemed to have a pulled a muscle.
Do you have an ice pack so that my leg can stop...
- quivering? - (gulps)
Right away, ma'am.
Oh‐ho, hot stuff.
Ugh, no sign of our wives.
We checked out all their favorite places,
but turns out we don't pay enough attention
to know what those are.
So I don't know what we did.
It was my distinct pleasure to watch your son.
I find we are quite simpatico.
Both of us know nothin' about nothin'.
JOHNNY TIGHTLIPS: Oh!
Now that's a fluid gender!
I wouldn't mind asking them their preferred pronouns. Oh!
(gasps) If I'm not mistaken,
that's how Marge looks when she's happy.
And that's my Sarah!
Come on, Homer.
It looks like this town's got a museum.
There's Lindsey, and she's wearing the tiara.
Okay, don't be nervous.
- You can do this. - Nervous?
This is the best field trip of my fricking life!
Ms. Naegle, can I just say, "that dress."
I know, right? You go, girl. (chuckles)
What setting would you even wash that on?
Delicate? Eco‐warm?
I bet it would make so much noise in the dryer, right?
Um, I don't want this to sound harsh,
but you're not famous, so you don't exist.
Bye now.
Darling, stop talking to that empty chair
and come take a selfie at the Fenty lip gloss fountain.
Oh, it's a fake!
I've been robbed!
Somebody stop those two nobodies!
Keep it cool.
We just have to slip out of here
without anyone noticing us.
‐(sirens blaring) ‐(gasping)
WIGGUM (over bullhorn): Sarah Wiggum, freeze!
We're here to give you ladies the attention you deserve!
(panting)
Shh! Now is not the time, Clancy.
No, no, when it comes to love,
it's always the time for shouting!
Sar‐ah Wig‐gum!
Schmoop‐a‐doop!
Shmoop‐ba‐da‐doopa!
‐I love Sa‐‐ ‐Shut up!
Oh, God, ow.
- Sarah Wiggum, who are you? - LINDSEY: That's her!
She's the thief!
(yelps)
(grunting)
(grunting continues)
(groans)
Babe, who is she?
This is my new girlfriend.
You were tumbling for a long time.
Oh, you poor thing.
Here's your bag, sweetie.
Oopsie!
LINDSEY: Those aren't mine!
- My earrings! - My blood diamond!
My conflict tennis bracelet!
Oh, this time, leave me holding the bag.
Aw, thanks, Homie.
But they're part of the ensemble.
Chalamet looks like dirt.
BTS looks like seven dirts.
I see nerve there but nothing audacious.
Oh. My. God.
Jeebus Crackers!
That's Marge!
What the hell is she doing at the Gen Gala?
Exactly. She looks like dirt.
It's what she would have wanted.
Captioning sponsored by 20th CENTURY FOX TELEVISION
FOX BROADCASTING COMPANY
And FORD. We go further, so you can.
Oh, Clancy.
So, this whole time, I've been married to a master criminal.
Damn straight.
(both moaning)
Wait, wait, uh, where's Ralph?
I must confess,
I thought putting crushed‐up Oreos
into the cookies and cream yogurt would be redundant.
Instead, it is transcendent.
(chuckles) I like to smoosh the gummy bears.
Hey, no touching!
If the boy wants to smoosh, the boy will smoosh.
I love you, scary daddy.
I love you too, Ralphie "Stickie Hands."
Shh!