♪ The Simpsons ♪
(bell ringing)
D'oh!
-Ahh! -(tires screech)
(honking)
Hymns here. I got hymns here. Get 'em while they're Holy.
Fresh from God's brain to your mouth.
(chuckles)
And now, please rise for our opening hymn.
Uh...
"In the Garden of Eden" by I-ron Butterfly.
♪♪ (organ plays "In A Gadda Davida")
♪ In the Garden of Eden, honey ♪
♪ Don't you know that I love you ♪
♪ In the Garden of Eden, baby ♪
♪ Don't you know that I'll always be true ♪
(laughs)
Hey Marge, remember when
we used to make out to this hymn?
(giggles) Shh...
♪♪
♪ Oh, won't you come with me? ♪
♪ And take my hand ♪
Wait a minute, this sounds like rock and/or roll.
(organist riffing)
I know one of you is responsible for this, so repeat after me:
"If I withhold the truth, may I go straight to hell,
"where I will eat naught but burning hot coals
and drink naught but burning hot cola."
Where fiery demons will punch me in the back.
Where my soul will be chopped into confetti
and strewn upon a parade of murderers and single mothers.
Where my tongue will be torn out by ravenous birds.
(shrieking)
Bart did it! That Bart right there!
Milhouse!
Milhouse, you did the right thing.
Bart, come with me for punishment.
You, too, snitchy.
Now I want you to clean every one of these organ pipes
that you have befouled with your "popular music."
(door closing)
You shank.
How could you tell on me?
Well, I didn't want hungry birds pecking my soul forever.
Soul? Come on, Milhouse, there's no such thing as a soul.
It's just something they made up to scare kids
like the bogeyman or Michael Jackson.
But every religion says there's a soul, Bart.
Why would they lie?
What would they have to gain?
I don't hear scrubbing.
Well, if your soul's real, where is it?
It's kind of in here.
And when you sneeze
that's your soul trying to escape.
Saying "God bless you" crams it back in.
And when you die, it squirms out and flies away.
Uh-huh. What if you die in a submarine
at the bottom of the ocean?
Oh, it can swim.
It's even got wheels in case you die in the desert
and it has to drive to the cemetery.
How can someone with glasses that thick be so stupid?
Listen, you don't have a soul, I don't have a soul.
There's no such thing as a soul.
Fine.
If you're so sure about that
why don't you sell your soul to me?
How much you got?
-Five bucks. -Deal.
There you go. One soul.
Pleasure doing business with you.
Anytime, chum... p.
All right, where would you kids like to eat tonight?
The Spaghetti Laboratory!
Face Stuffers!
Professor V.J. Cornucopia's
Fantastic Foodmagorium and Great American Steakery.
Well, what about this place?
"Moe's."
(screams)
Natural light! Get it off me! Get it off me.
Oh, I'm sorry.
I thought this was a family restaurant.
Oh, it is. It is.
Just, uh... pull them stools up to the pool table.
Daddy, this place smells like tinkle.
Mm-hmm. I think we'll just go to
the Texas Cheesecake Depository.
Everybody is going to family restaurants these days.
Seems nobody wants to hang out in a dank pit no more.
You ain't thinking of getting rid of the dank, are you, Moe?
Ah, maybe I am.
But, Moe, the dank, the dank.
Yeah, family restaurants.
That's where the big bucks are.
I could turn this joint into a place
where you wouldn't be ashamed to bring your family, huh?
I'm not ashamed.
Hey, put a coaster under that.
Oh, Lisa.
There's a little present for you lying in the driveway.
Oh, boy! Really?
(gasps)
(roaring)
(screaming)
Oh, no!
It's dripping funny-smelling water all over me!
(sighs)
I wasted five bucks on these.
Where did you get five bucks?
I want five bucks.
I sold my soul to Milhouse.
What? How could you do that?
Your soul is the most valuable part of you.
You believe in that junk?
Well, whether or not the soul is physically real, Bart,
it's the symbol of everything fine inside us.
Tsk, tsk, tsk. Poor, gullible Lisa.
I'll keep my crappy sponges, thanks.
Bart, your soul is the only part of you that lasts forever.
For five dollars,
Milhouse could own you for a zillion years.
Well, if you think he got such a good deal,
I'll sell you my conscience for 4.50.
I'll throw in my sense of decency too.
It's a Bart Sales Event. Everything about me must go.
Hey boy, how you doing?
(growling)
Man, what's gotten into you?
(hissing)
Geez, you're pretty uppity
for someone who eats bugs all day.
Stupid automatic door.
BOTH: Thank you, door.
Some ice cream guy is going to see that
and it will blow his mind.
Let me try.
(blowing)
Way to breathe, no-breath.
This is getting weird.
Sanjay, to the entrance with the Windex.
So c'mon, I need a name that says
"friendly, all-American cooking."
How about
Chairman Moe's Magic Wok?
BARNEY: I like it.
Nah. I want something that says
people can have a nice, relaxing time.
I got it!
Madman Moe's Pressure Cooker.
BARNEY: I like it.
Hey, how about Uncle Moe's Family Feedbag?
BARNEY: I hate it.
(truck horn blaring)
Oh, boy. The deep fryer's here.
I got it used from the Navy.
You could flash fry a buffalo in 40 seconds.
40 seconds? But I want it now.
♪ The Itchy and Scratchy Show ♪
(sighs)
Whoa!
(sighs)
(screaming)
(laughing)
I know that's funny, but I'm just not laughing.
Hmm?
Pablo Neruda said laughter is the language of the soul.
I am familiar with the works of Pablo Neruda.
I think we should do a test.
HOMER: ♪ Oh, do-do-do ♪
♪ I'm just walking... ♪
Whoa!
D'oh!
-(laughing) -(Homer yelling)
Well?
Nope. I don't feel a thing.
That's creepy, Bart.
I think you really did lose your soul.
-Good boy. Ow! -(growling)
Who's doin' that?
Hmm?
Nothing.
Ow! Help me! Ow!
Why isn't anybody-- Ow! Helping?
-(doorbell rings) -Hi, is Milhouse home?
He's playing in the dirt with his Army men.
Oh, and a white piece of paper, I believe.
(gasps)
Cover me, Sarge.
I'm going after Bart's soul.
(imitating gun fire)
If the Ayatollah can't have it, no one can.
(imitating engine)
Uh, uh, you know, Milhouse...
(smugly) Yes?
Bet you're getting tired of that soul, huh?
No.
Well, suppose someone wanted to buy it from you?
Ohh. You want to buy it back, Bart?
Sure. No problem.
-50 bucks. -What?!
Who's stupid now? Huh?
(maniacal laughing)
If you like good food, good fun
and a whole lot of crazy crap on the walls
then come on down to Uncle Moe's Family Feedbag.
ANNOUNCER: At Moe's, we serve good, old-fashioned home cooking
deep-fried to perfection.
Now that's "Moe" like it.
So bring the whole family-- Mom, Dad, kids...
uh, no old people.
They're not covered by our insurance.
It's fun.
And remember our guarantee:
if I'm not smiling when your check comes,
your meal's on me, Uncle Moe.
♪ Come to Uncle Moe's for family fun ♪
♪ It's good, good, good, good, good, good, good ♪
Mmm. Sounds good.
(humming)
Hmm...
Bart, what's wrong?
There's something a little off
about your hug.
Mom, I need to tell you something.
I kind of--
Uh, uh, uh. Let me guess.
A mother can always tell.
Mm-hmm.
Hmm.
It's not fear of nuclear war.
Mm-hmm.
It's not swim test anxiety.
It almost feels like you're missing something--
something important.
Like I don't have a soul?
(laughing)
Ah, honey, you're not a monster.
GIRL: My soul's my best friend.
GIRL 2: My soul's like a toy that never breaks.
(cackles)
My soul can take your soul!
♪ Bart sold his soul, and that's just swell ♪
♪ Now he's going straight to ♪
♪ Hello operator, give me number nine ♪
♪ And if you disconnect... ♪
No soul, huh? Don't worry.
I'm still behind you.
Ha-ha.
Ahoy there, friends.
Everybody find a first mate.
Oh, I choose Martin.
Wait. Wait for me!
(singsongy) Bart, it's time to end this dream,
and don't forget the standard scream.
(screaming)
An alligator with sunglasses?
Now I've seen everything.
Hiya, folks. Welcome to Uncle Moe's.
Ah, look at all the cute little minors.
Wow. That's Moe. The guy from the ad.
Right this way, Homer.
And he knows my name.
Street signs indoors?
(giggles) Whatever.
Now Rod, you order anything you want
for your big ten-o.
Million Dollar Birthday Fries.
Uh-oh.
Moe gets so excited when you order
his Million Dollar Birthday Fries
he just has to celebrate.
Here you go. Here I am, Uncle Moe.
Thank you, ma'am.
This'll be a treat.
Uncle Moe, here I am, while you eat.
Please take the fries off my head, kid.
The basket is extremely hot.
How are the southwestern pizza fingers?
They're, um...
"awesomely outrageous."
Oh, these look good.
Guilt-free steak fish filets.
No, no, let me level with you, Marge.
That's just our name
for bottom-feeding suction eel.
You don't want that.
Why don't you try Moe's Hobo Chicken Chili?
I start with the best part, the neck,
and then I add secret hobo spices.
Ooh, tres bien.
Yeah.
(giggles)
What the hell are you doing, you little freak?!
(crying)
Oh, sorry, kid. Sorry.
I'm not used to the laughter of children.
It cuts through me like a dentist's drill.
But no, no, that was funny, that was funny
taking away my dignity like that.
Ha, ha, ha.
I would like to say grace.
(clears throat)
Lord, have mercy on my soul
and Mom's soul
and Dad's soul
and Maggie's soul
and that every soul in Christendom-- Uh!
Bart!
I can't take this anymore.
I want my soul, and I want it now.
Bart, you didn't finish your spaghetti and Moe Balls.
HOMER'S BRAIN: Silence, you fool.
It can be ours.
Run, boy!
Run.
(chewing) Run for your life... boy.
Milhouse! Milhouse. You win!
I want this nightmare to end!
(creaking)
(deep breathing)
(sinister voice) Leave this place.
You are in great danger.
Where's Milhouse?
The one you call Milhouse is gone.
(normal voice) He went to his grandma's place
while we're spraying for potato bugs.
Oh. When Milhouse left
did you notice if he was carrying a piece of paper?
Oh, yeah. You don't forget a thing like that.
(alarm sounding)
Oh, God.
Here you go!
Here I am, Uncle Moe! Thank you, ma'am.
This will be a treat. Uncle Moe! Here I am!
-While you eat! -Yay!
Now do it for Terri.
What? It's your birthday too?
BOTH: We're twins.
(sighs)
Here you go. Here I am.
Eat your fries. Eat them.
Here's you.
Ah, geez. And you got the stink lines and everything.
Oh, dude, you did not smile.
We eat for free.
Come on, Shoshanna, let's roll.
(chuckles)
But I sang you the potato stuffings.
Come on, I sang you the potato stuffings!
Look at the vein on that guy's forehead.
He's gonna blow.
(alarm sounding)
Unky Moe?
What... is it, sweetheart?
My "sodie" is too cold.
My "teef" hurt.
Your "teef" hurt, huh? Your "teef" hurt?
Well, that's too freaking bad!
Ya hear me? I'll tell you
where you can put your freaking "sodie" too!
(all gasping)
-Ow! My freaking ears! -(gasps)
Oh, let's go, dear.
I expect that type of language at Denny's
but not here.
Come on, folks, wait!
Please, come back!
Please, I got a new offer.
Whenever Uncle Moe threatens you
you get a free steak... fish.
(sighs)
Okay. Okay.
Milhouse's grandmother lives on 257th Street
and I'm on Third.
(groans)
(horn blaring)
(pop!)
Well finally, a little luck.
(squeaking)
(evil laugh)
(crashing)
(yelling gibberish)
Son, you wait here while Daddy tries
to talk some sense into this raving derelict.
(gibberish)
Now slow down, slow down.
Who's been stealing your thoughts?
-Hello, Ralph. -(gasps)
Um, hi, Bart.
I know you from school.
Yes.
A simple proposition, Ralph:
how would you like to make a dollar?
Uh... I don't know.
All you have to do is sign a paper
that says I can have your soul.
I need a soul, Ralph.
Any soul.
Yours.
(whimpers)
(crying)
Hey, what's going on over there?
(hissing)
(pounding on wood)
Go on, take it all. Get it all out of here.
You know, Moe, you might want
to keep the fire extinguishers.
Nah. Too many bad memories.
Well, look on the bright side, Moe.
You still got us.
Yeah. You know, that actually makes me feel a little better.
HOMER: Why?
That was the problem in the first place.
You were going broke
because we were your only customers.
Wasn't that the problem in the first place?
That you were going broke?
Moe? Moe?
Hey, Moe?
Oh, you're thinking about all the money
you blew, aren't you?
What was it, $50,000, $60,000?
Moe? Look,
maybe it would help if you went over
all the mistakes you made from the beginning.
-Moe? -What?!
Let me get a pad.
(snoring)
(knocking on door)
A caller at this hour?
You dial 9-1,
then when I say so, dial 1 again.
(panting)
Milhouse, please.
Bart, I can't play now.
It's 2:00 A.M.
Milhouse, I got to have my soul back.
I'll do anything you want.
Uh... well...
Milhouse, give him back his soul.
I've got work tomorrow.
I'm really sorry.
I kinda traded your soul to the guy
at the comic book store.
But look, I got some cool Pogs.
Alf Pogs.
Remember Alf?
He's back, in Pog form.
You traded my soul for Pogs?!
No-o-o-o!
GRANDMOTHER: Close that door.
You're letting the heat out.
FATHER: Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!
If you're waiting for the "Hi & Lois" signing
it has been moved to the Springfield Coliseum.
Please, you have something of mine
on a little piece of paper.
Oh. So you're Bart Simpson, eh?
Well, since my breakfast burrito
is congealing rapidly,
I will be blunt.
You're too late.
I sold your soul last night.
Yes, yes, I found a buyer right away for that item.
Who?
I'm not at liberty to divulge the party
but they were most interested in having possession
of a little boy's soul.
Excuse me.
No banging your head on the display case, please.
It contains a very rare "Mary Worth"
in which she has advised a friend
to commit suicide. Thank you.
Are you there, God?
It's me, Bart Simpson.
I know I never paid too much attention in church
but I could really use some of that good stuff now.
I'm afraid.
I'm afraid some weirdo's got my soul
and I don't know what they're doing to it.
I just want it back.
Please.
(sobbing)
(whimpers)
I hope you can hear this.
Lisa? You bought this?
With the change in my piggy bank.
There's no change in your piggy bank.
Not in any of the ones you know about.
Oh, Lis, thank you.
Happy to do it.
But you know Bart, some philosophers
believe that nobody is born with a soul,
that you have to earn one
through suffering
and thought and prayer
like you did last night.
Uh-huh.
(gulping)
Ha! It's like punting on the Thames. Stroke. Stroke.
Oh!
(laughing)
♪♪
Shh!
CAPTIONS ENHANCED BY ROUNDABOUT ENTERTAINMENT INC.