(shuts off engine)
Welcome back, sir.
(indistinct chatter)
Oh, Artemis,
you wouldn't believe what my customers
unloaded on me tonight.
Crappy marriages, crappy jobs,
crappy sports teams. (groans)
My ears are killin' me.
That's why the Confidential is here,
to share your burden.
Just give me the usual, huh?
(chuckles) As if we served anything else.
(sipping)
(sighing)
To the Confidential,
the one bar where they listen to the listeners.
Come on. We got to get a seat in the front row.
If anything flies off the stage, I want to be in the Stain Zone.
I'm sorry, Krusty, but there's no way
we can seat this audience until we round up all the escaped,
uh, you‐know‐whats.
‐(hissing) ‐(yelling)
Tough luck, kids. The show's canceled.
I'm going down to the deli to drown my sorrows in tongue.
(Milhouse groans)
What about this upside‐down exclamation mark show?
Upside down is funny.
- (playing "Flight of the Bumblebee") - Desde Downtown Springfield,
es ¡Noches con Abejorrito!
¡Y ahora El Hombre Abejorro!
(cheering)
¡No se duerman, o les voy a picar!
(laughing)
Milhouse, you know Spanish. What did he say?
Oh, it's a cultural thing.
You wouldn't get it. Estúpido.
...y luego, había un escorpión en mis pantalones.
(laughs) Pantalones.
(siren wailing)
¡Una visita de mi primito!
Eso significa que es tiempo de jugar...
¡No... Te... 'splotes!
Presentado por la Monja Humilde,
la horchata más divina.
Hermanas, traigame unos concursantes.
¡Ay, caramba!
It's a game. They fill your mouth with horchata,
and if you don't laugh, you win a prize!
¡O, Bebito Abuelito!
(cheering, laughing)
¿Cuáles son las vacas más perezosas?
¡Las vacaciones!
(spitting)
(laughing)
¡Nuestro ganador!
(cheering)
Pick your prize!
(audience booing)
♪ ♪
Grandpa Baby, this is the easiest choice I've ever made.
Look what I won on Spanish Krusty!
(spits)
Oh, my God.
That is not just any crystal skull.
It's Calavera Gritando!
That tequila's so authentic
that it inspired George Clooney
to make his own semi‐authentic tequila.
Wait, my skull is full of booze?
That's why it has a screw cap.
Bart, you've got to give it to me.
I've always wanted to drink something fancy enough
to come in a bottle that doesn't look like a bottle.
Nah. I think I'm gonna save it.
For high school.
Come on. Gimme that!
Bart won that skull full of tequila.
He can do whatever he wants with it,
except drink the tequila.
Sorry, Homer. Game, set, skull.
(cackling)
(yelps)
(audience cheering on TV)
(Homer grunting)
Huh? (moans)
ANNOUNCER: Coming up now, we got a special dedication
to Homer S. from his son Bart.
("Tequila" playing)
I like how there are no lyrics to upset me.
(singing along)
♪ Tequila. ♪
D'oh!
(tires screech)
Isn't that your dad?
No.
(speaking Spanish)
(snickers)
I may not speak Spanish,
but I know when an imaginary talking skull is mocking me.
(cackling quietly)
Gentlemen,
I give you Calavera Gritando!
(all gasping)
Whoa, a crystal skull.
Like from my least favorite Indiana Jones movie
and most favorite Shia LaBeouf movie.
Okay, this booze is so classy,
I'm finally breaking out
my commemorative Iran hostage crisis shot glasses.
(blows)
Look at these guys.
Now, those were hostages.
Hey, Moe, why don't you pour yourself one for a change?
Me? Nah, nah, that's okay.
The pouring is enough of a thrill.
Come on. You're always on that side of the bar.
At least come over here and take a load off.
Well, maybe it wouldn't hurt none.
(shudders)
So this is sittin'.
You know, Moe, all these years,
we've never seen you drink.
Well, you know, a bartender
ain't supposed to drink with his regulars.
It's frowned upon.
By whom?
Not some secret society
that I go to every night after closing time,
if that's what you're thinking.
Look, I'm just the schlub that pours the booze.
That's all.
Moe, you're not just our bartender.
You're our friend.
Friend? You mean that?
Well, maybe it's just my relaxed butt cheeks talking,
but, uh, down the hatch!
Woof. (chuckles)
I haven't had anything this expensive in my mouth
since my dad's gun.
(laughs)
- (laughing) - Yeah. Go, Moe.
- Go, Moe. - Now you got it.
(cackling)
I think you're pretty cool, too, skull.
♪ ♪
(groans) Oh, my head.
Oh, what a hangover.
(grunting)
Ah, that's actually a little better.
Hmm.
Oh, no.
Oh, no! Last night's all coming back to me.
("Tequila" playing)
(shouting)
- Whoa! Yeah! - Yay!
♪ ♪
Let's go show the world how much fun it is
when drunk guys do stuff in public!
Baba‐boo!
♪ ♪
(groaning, barking)
(snorting)
(barking, snorting)
Excuse me, could you move?
My husband and I would like to sit on this bench
and comment on how the elephant seals are "living the life."
It's the only joke in our entire marriage.
Oh, that's not what I hear.
The real joke is that you two
haven't pushed the ole twin beds together
since before the election.
Of Obama.
To the Senate!
(laughing)
How'd you know about their sexless marriage?
Oh, Mrs. Lovejoy blabbed about it to her bartender,
who then told me.
Hey, wait, you bartenders tell each other
the stuff we say in drunken confidence?
Oh, we sure do.
Look what else I know.
You file your taxes as one person.
You sell all your pets each time you go on vacation.
Hey, you're two‐timing us
by also being the mayor of another town.
I swear, Greenview means nothing to me.
Hey, I love hot goss as much as the next guy,
but maybe you shouldn't be spilling
- people's secrets. - Secrets.
You mean like you not asking anyone out on a date in years
because you're ashamed of your wet spaghetti arms?
What woman could feel held by these?
Or how you keep yammering about your million‐dollar invention?
File the patent already, you coward.
Or how 'bout Barney over here?
Always going on about how much you love your mother,
but you haven't visited her in years.
She still thinks I work at Autozone.
I can't tell her they fired me for huffing floormat cleaner!
Moe, you've officially gone from fun drunk to mean drunk.
You judging me?
You're the one who said you're so scared
of being a lousy father and husband
that you hide out at the bar
instead of going home and actually tryin'.
(gasps)
You're worse than a mean drunk.
You're an honest drunk!
No! You guys are the drunks.
I am just wasted.
Baba‐boo.
Okay, Moe.
You did what no bartender ever should've done.
But maybe, just maybe, they won't find out.
(squeaking)
(gasps) The Confidential.
They found out.
All right there, Kristof.
Time for me to answer for my sins.
Lead the way.
Frickin' Kristof.
Yeah, so, I, uh... I got your rat.
Look, I know I screwed up, but that...
ARTEMIS: Since time immemorial,
bartenders have been the cornerstone of civilization,
an eternal guild of listeners.
And so a paradox:
for to whom could bartenders confide their secrets?
Thus was born the Confidential,
a hidden society of those who listen to the listeners.
But this institution will crumble to dust
if we do not obey its first and only law‐‐
"A bartender keeps his secrets!"
Look, Artemis, I know I shouldn't have got wasted
and blabbed the unblabbable.
It's just, for once, I wanted to have a drink with my friends.
A bartender has no friends!
Mr. Szyslak, your tab is closed.
Surrender your key, sir.
Well, them's the rules, I guess.
It was nice being part of a place
that was bigger than me and also super weird.
Uh‐‐ What the...
The penalty for your offense is far greater than mere expulsion.
Your friends, your regulars are to be...
cut off.
(glass breaking)
Cut off?! No. No, that's too horrible.
You can't do that to them!
You did this to them.
They have until the clock strikes...
happy hour.
Tick, tock, Mr. Szyslak. Tick, tock.
Guys, you're all in danger! You...
Oh, sorry. I've never been in your office before.
Any office, for that matter.
Yeesh. Now I get why you all drink so much.
You've got a lot of nerve coming here,
after what you said last night.
I know, I know, but this is serious, okay?
Some very scary people are mad
for all that drunken blabbing I did,
so you're being... cut off!
So what? You already lost us as customers.
No, no, you don't get it. Cut off.
Aah. There isn't much time,
but I'm gonna keep being cagey about it.
Oh, wait a minute. Where's Barney?
Barney doesn't work here.
Really? Seems like he would.
Yeah, that would lead to some good stories, all right.
Hurry, call him. Call him!
Mm. Fine.
Well, if it isn't the meanest drunk in town.
Barn, it's happy hour.
You got to lock your doors and windows right away!
During the best time of day for ocean breezes?
- No dice. - Look out for - the dapper gentleman!
Ow! Damn vampire bats!
What the hell was that?
He's been injected with Antibooze‐‐
a drug that makes it so he can never drink again.
Antibooze? That stuff isn't real.
Oh, it's real, and the side effects are horrible,
unthinkable!
It starts with a skull‐splitting headache.
(yelling)
Then you got your firehose sweating.
Rhinoceros pox.
And finally, hurricane vomiting.
(liquid pouring and prolonged yelling on screen)
(sighs) He's been cut off.
And now they're coming for you.
If they catch ya, you can never touch alcohol again.
No! No!
Wait. What about rum cakes and other boozy desserts?
Never again.
No!
(buzzing)
Run faster. Every bartender in town is coming after youse guys.
All because I couldn't keep my drunken trap shut!
Well, how many bartenders could there be in Springfield?
How many people in this town are miserable at work and at home?
Oh, my God.
You guys, get out of here!
I'll hold 'em off... with this.
(grunting)
Wow. He's like a ninja with that crotch rag.
That disgusting towel is a blur!
(panting)
(Moe grunts, electrical buzzing)
(electrical buzzing and snapping)
(all panting)
This is no way to live.
Hunted. Hunted like dinosaurs.
What are we supposed to do now?
If you ever want to drink again,
all you can do is get on the next bus out of town
and never stop running.
Sounds like a plan.
(both grunt)
(moaning)
(speaking German)
Those poor bastards.
I must keen for them.
(loud, sorrowful keening)
Forget it, Homer.
They're non‐drinkers now.
Marge, pack what you need and choose one kid.
We're leaving Springfield forever.
That's ridiculous, Homie.
Look who dropped by for dinner.
Hello, Homer.
Dad, Dr. Hibbert was just telling us
how he worked his way through medical school.
I think you'd be interested to hear how I did it.
- I would? - Bartending.
(screaming)
Who wants mushroom caps?
(screams)
I'm so sorry, Homer.
And Midge, your husband can never drink again,
and it's all because of me. (cries)
(cheering)
Good morning, family.
Mwah. Mwah. Mwah.
You sure I can't make you some oatmeal with blueberries?
Not today, honey. I promised to pick up coffee
for everyone on my team to celebrate our record numbers.
You are so much more of a go‐getter since your promotion.
I love this new, sober you.
And I love any version of you.
Mmm, mmm.
‐(coughing) ‐Get a room!
Bart, I haven't forgotten about your skateboard competition.
And don't worry, Lisa.
It'll be over in plenty of time
for me to be front and center at your recital.
Ooh! (sputtering)
(giggling)
Well, off to the salt mines.
(humming cheerily)
Well, this is a coincidence.
I haven't seen you guys since, uh, you know.
Geez, it would've had to have been the syringings?
Yeah, finally got in shape. Not drinking all day every day
really freed up a lot of time for me to work out.
And as soon as I filed my patent, my start‐up got funded.
Soon, everyone in America will have their own personal
body‐hair‐shaving mini robot.
That's you? (gasps)
I love my Groomba!
(buzzing)
And I got my job back at Autozone,
so I could finally face my ma.
He holds the big arrow that says "Autozone."
Yeah, I guess we're all doing pretty well.
You know who I heard ain't?
A certain bartender.
You won't believe how low he's sunk.
It would be nice to laugh at someone
living their lowest moment.
I asked for the ham in my omelet to be diced.
This ham is clearly cubed.
Yes, ma'am. Uh, right away, ma'am.
You flipped my omelet too high in the air,
and it got cold on the descent.
My mistake, sir. I'm sorry, sir.
I wanted to see him low, but not eggs‐on‐demand low.
I bet he doesn't even have a shotgun under that bar.
Get out of here. You can't see me like this.
Slingin' eggs in a well‐lit, non‐dank environment.
I can't believe I'm saying this.
We're all saying it.
Even though we can never drink again,
we still want you as our bartender.
You... you mean it?
- Yeah. - We do. - Mm‐hmm.
From now on, you can spray your own pans, America! Ha.
(cheering)
There you go, fellas. Bottoms up.
To Moe, our friend.
Nah, nah, guys. I'm something better.
Your bartender.
Who knew you could drink water in a bar?
It's, uh, still watered down.
‐(laughter) ‐Good one, Moe.
(laughter continues)
Well, I have never seen such a perfect distillation
of the human spirit.
A cocktail of humility and self‐sacrifice
with a dash of un‐bitters.
(chuckles)
Whoa, Artemis. What are you doing here?
Such loyalty to a bartender deserves a reward.
The antidote to Antibooze.
(all gasping)
Now, think carefully, chaps.
Once injected, you will lose all the benefits of sobriety.
Go away, Ma.
(gulping)
I'm sorry. I can't go back.
Sobriety has made me the man I never thought I'd be.
Now I'm going home to my family.
(whirring)
Hmm?
(whimpering)
(buzzing)
Hey, Bart, isn't that your stupid crystal skull?
Wasn't stupid. It was my best friend.
♪ ♪
(evil cackling)
(speaking Spanish)
(evil cackling)
(panting)
Captioning sponsored by 20th CENTURY FOX TELEVISION
FOX BROADCASTING COMPANY
And FORD. We go further, so you can.
Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH access.wgbh.org
Shh!