♪ The Simpsons ♪
(tires screech)
D'oh!
-Aah! -(tires screech)
(screeches)
Here's your caption boys:
"Local hero shuns spotlight and pitches in."
What an angle.
I can't believe I'm spending my Saturday picking up garbage.
I mean, half these bottles ain't even mine.
(clears throat)
Let's have less conversation and more sanitation.
(all grumbling)
Hey, where's Homer?
How'd he get out of this?
HOMER: Hey, everybody!
Up here!
Simpson, stop frolicking and get to work.
Right away, Mr. Smithers.
I'll just walk across these slippery ro... aah!
Oh, no! He's going over the falls!
Oh, good. He snagged that tree branch.
Oh, no! The branch broke off.
Oh, good. He can grab on to them pointy rocks.
Oh, no!
Them rocks broke his arms and legs.
Oh, good. Those helpful beavers
are swimming out to save him.
Oh, no.
They're biting him and stealing his pants.
Good Lord. He'll be sucked into the turbine.
(all gasp)
Smithers, Who was that corpse?
Homer Simpson, sir.
(sniffling)
One of the finest, bravest men
ever to grace Sector 7G.
(sobbing)
I'll cross him off the list.
(Bart laughing)
That dummy worked like a charm, Dad.
Best 600 bucks I ever spent.
Come on, boy.
We've earned this Saturday.
Now let's make the most of it!
61, 62, 63...
Marge, we can't tell you how sorry we are.
You have our deepest condol-diddly-olences.
I'm sorry. I-I'm just nervous.
I didn't mean any disrespect.
What are you talking about?
You know, uh...
Homer's passing.
Away.
Into death.
What?
That's ridiculous. Homer's not dead.
He's right out back in the hammock.
Oh, Marge, of course Homer's alive.
He's alive in all our hearts.
Yes, Marge.
I can see him.
Hi, everybody.
Marge, I'm going to give you the card
of our juvenile counselor.
(doorbell rings)
A tombstone?
It came with the burial plot.
But that's not important.
The important thing is, Homer's dead.
We've been saving for this since your wedding day.
Get out of here you ghouls!
Ay-yi-yi-yi-yi.
Hmm?
Uh, excuse me.
Sir, I think there's been a mistake.
Oh, no. No mistake.
Your electricity's in the name
of Homer J. Simpson, deceased.
The juice stays off till you get a job or a generator.
Oh, and, uh, my deepest sympathies.
Mmm... Homer?
That's my name.
When I asked you if that dummy
was to fake your own death, you told me no.
You go downtown first thing in the morning
and straighten this out.
LISA: Mom! Dad!
Bart ran into a doorframe and bit his tongue!
BART: What the hell'th goin' on heah?
Listen here. My name is Homer J. Simpson.
You guys think I'm dead, but I'm not.
Now I want you to straighten this out
without a lot of your bureaucratic red tape and mumbo jumbo.
Okay, Mr. Simpson
I'll just make the change here... and you're all set.
I don't like your attitude, you water-cooler dictator.
What do you have in that secret government file, anyway?
I have a right to read it.
You sure do.
"Wife: Marjorie.
Children: Bartholomew, Lisa..."
Ah-hah! See? This thing is all screwed up.
Who the heck is "Margaret" Simpson?
Uh... your youngest daughter.
(mimicking) "Uh... your youngest daughter."
Well, how about this?
This thing says my mother's still alive!
She died when I was a kid!
You see that stone angel up there?
That's my mother's grave.
My Dad points it out every time we drive by.
Mr. Simpson, uh...
maybe you should actually
go up there.
Huh?
Oh, Mom, I'm sorry I never come to see you.
I'm just not a cemetery person.
"Here lies...
Walt Whitman"?
(yelling)
Damn you, Walt Whitman!
I-hate-you- Walt-freakin'-Whitman!
Leaves of Grass, my ass!
Wait a minute.
Maybe it's that other grave-- the one that says "Simpson"!
(shrieking)
Oh!
Why does my death keep coming back to haunt me?
Oh!
You awful, awful man!
Get out of my son's grave!
I hate to rain on your parade, lady, but this is my grave.
Hey...
wait a minute...
Mom?
Homer?
I thought you were dead!
Oh, dang blast it.
Isn't anybody in this dad-gummed cemetery dead?
I didn't want to cause a fuss
but now that you mention it...
Oh, Homer, you grew up so handsome.
Some people say I look like Dan Aykroyd.
I can't believe you're here.
Dad always told me you died while I was at the movies.
Oh, my poor baby.
You must have been so upset.
But I suppose Abe has his reasons.
Yeah, well... where have you been all this time?
Oh, it's a very complicated story.
Let's just enjoy this moment.
Mom, there's something you should know about me.
I almost always spoil the moment.
(burping)
I'm sorry.
That's okay, darling.
It wasn't your fault.
Hey, everybody, I got a big surprise for you.
Presenting... my mother!
(gasps)
Your mother? That's Grandma Simpson?
Can you believe it?
I thought she was dead.
Hello.
This is so weird.
It's like something out of Dickens
or Melrose Place.
Where have you been, Granny?
Did they freeze you or something?
(laughing)
Oh, my, such clever grandchildren.
So full of questions and bright, shiny eyes.
I don't know what to say.
I finally have a mother-in-law.
(giggling)
No more living vicariously through my girlfriends.
(giggles and coughs)
Hey.
Since you were a no-show
at all the big moments of my life,
you owe me years of back presents.
Christmases, birthdays, Easters, Kwanzas, good report cards...
Hmm. 75 bucks a pop plus interest and penalties...
You owe me $22,000.
I'll Kwanza you!
Gaa! Gaa!
Homer, don't be so hard on little...
(whispering) What is his name?
This is my room.
This is my dresser.
It's where I keep my shirts when I'm not wearing them.
Oh, yes, right in the drawers.
(both laughing)
You remembered.
Oh, I've missed moments like this... Mom.
I saw all your awards, Lisa.
They're mighty impressive.
Oh, I just keep them out to bug Bart.
Don't be bashful.
When I was your age, kids made fun of me
because I read at the ninth-grade level.
Me too!
Hey, Mom, look at me!
Look at what I can do!
I see you, Homer.
That's very nice.
Although I hardly consider "A Separate Peace"
the ninth-grade level.
Yeah, more like preschool.
I hate John Knowles.
Me too.
(both laughing)
(both sighing)
Mom, you're not looking!
You know, Lisa, I feel like I have
an instant rapport with you.
(gasps) You didn't dumb it down.
You said "rapport."
Got to run. Grandma stuff.
Huh?
(turns dryer on)
There. Now no one should be able to hear us.
What?
(turns dryer off)
All right, we don't need the dryer.
What?!
Just shut up and listen.
There's something fishy about Grandma.
Whenever we ask her where she's been all this time
she changes the subject.
And just now when a police car drove by
she ran into the house.
Yeah, I don't trust her, either.
When I was going through her purse
look what I found.
LISA: "Mona Simpson."
"Mona Stevens."
"Martha Stewart."
"Penelope Olsen."
"Muddy Mae Suggins."
These are the calling cards of a con artist.
Whoo-hoo!
I'm so glad to have my Mom back.
I never realized how much I missed her.
She's nice.
But?
I just don't think you should get too excited
about the woman who abandoned you for 25 years.
You could get hurt again.
First, it wasn't 25 years.
It was 27 years.
And second, she had a very good reason.
Which was?
I don't know.
I guess I was just a horrible son
(crying) and no mother would want me.
Oh, Homie.
Come on, you're a sweet, kind, loving man.
I'm sure you were a wonderful son.
Then why did she leave me?
Let's find out.
Mother Simpson, we'd like to ask you
a few questions about your past.
Can't reminisce. Sleeping.
(snoring)
Spill it, Muddy Mae, or we're calling the cops.
Please don't.
Alright, then we'll call your husband-- Grampa.
No! I'll talk.
I'll tell you everything.
I've wanted to tell you.
It all started in the '60s.
Take out wrenched ankle.
(buzzing)
Mom! Mom! Mom!
Oh, my little Homie Bear.
Time for bed.
Sing me my bedtime song, Mom.
♪ Ooey, gooey, rich and chewy inside ♪
♪ Golden, flaky, tender, cakey outside ♪
♪ Wrap the inside in the outside ♪
♪ Is it good? ♪
Darn tootin'.
♪ Doing the big Fig Newton ♪
Here's the tricky part.
(snoring)
Abe, isn't Homer cute?
Probably. I'm trying to watch the Super Bowl.
If people don't support this thing, it might not make it.
Joe Willie Namath swaggering off the field
his sideburns an apogee of sculpted sartorium.
The foppish follicles pioneered by Ambrose Burnside
Appomattox, 1865.
("Sunshine of Your Love" plays)
MONA: His wild, untamed facial hair
revealed a new world of rebellion, of change
a world where doors were open for women like me.
But Abe was stuck in his button-down
plastic-fantastic Madison Avenue scene.
Look at them sideburns.
He looks like a girl.
Now, Johnny Unitas-- there's a haircut
you could set your watch to.
So Mother Simpson, where did your newfound sense
of irresponsibility take you?
I soon found people who shared my views
at the state college.
(all chanting) Anthrax, gangrene, swimmer's ear
get your germ lab out of here.
How could I not become a radical
when we were fighting
a force of pure evil?
(all chanting) Hey, hey, Mr. Burns
enough already with the germs.
Their flower power is no match for my glower power.
Ooh!
That's some nice glowering, Mr. B.
We'd met the enemy and it was Montgomery Burns.
Drastic action had to be taken to stop
his war machine.
I put Homer to bed, Abe, and now I'm going out.
It could be a late night.
I'm meeting my destiny.
So long.
("Along the Watchtower" plays)
When this baby goes off
Burns' lab is going to be history, man.
Germ history!
(laughing)
Oh, man, I got the munchies.
(ringing)
(coughing)
No! No!
Wait a minute.
(inhales)
Bronchial tubes clearing.
Asthma disappearing.
Acne... remains.
But asthma disappearing.
(alarm ringing)
My germs.
My precious germs.
They never harmed a soul.
They never even had a chance.
Whoever did this
will never get past me!
(all yelling)
You poor man.
Let me help you up.
You
just made a very big mistake.
You'll spend the rest of your life in pri--
My asthma's gone.
Listen to me breathe.
(snorting)
Wah!
(snorting)
Wah!
From that moment on
my life as I knew it was over.
Only one member
of the Springfield Seven was identified.
She's been described as a woman
in her early 30s
yellow complexion and may be extremely helpful.
For Channel Six News, I'm Kenny Brockelstein.
Homer?
(sobbing)
I'll miss you, Homer.
I thought I dreamed that kiss.
(sniffling)
I'm so sorry I misjudged you, Mom.
You had to leave to protect your family.
How did you survive?
Oh, I had help from my friends in the underground.
Jerry Rubin gave me a job
marketing his line of health shakes.
I proofread Bobby Seale's cookbook
and I ran credit checks
at Tom Hayden's Porsche dealership.
Wait a minute.
There's one thing I don't understand.
In all those years, why didn't you ever try to contact me?
But I did.
I sent you a care package every week.
Aw come on, Mom. We use that same line
on the kids when they're at camp.
But I did. I really did.
I'll prove it to you.
Any undelivered mail for Homer J. Simpson?
No... oh, wait. This.
That's what happens
when you don't tip your letter carrier at Christmas.
Yes, I'd like to send this letter
to the Prussian consulate in Siam by aeromail.
Am I too late for the 4:30 auto-gyro?
Uh... I better look in the manual.
Oh, the ignorance.
Wait a minute.
I know that woman.
But from when,
and in what capacity?
(gasping)
It's her.
At last.
This book must be out of date.
I don't see Prussia, Siam or auto-gyro.
Well, keep looking.
(gasps)
Are you sure this is the woman you saw in the Post Office?
Absolutely.
Who could forget such a monstrous visage?
She has the sloping brow
and cranial bumpage of the career criminal.
Uh, sir, phrenology was dismissed
as quackery 160 years ago.
Of course, you'd say that
You have the brainpan of a stagecoach tilter.
At any rate, the F.B.I. will track down
this mystery woman and put her behind bars.
How does it happen, Joe?
How does what happen?
How does a sweet young lady
mortgage her future for a bunch of scraggly ideals
and greasy-haired promises?
Maybe she thought the war on southeast Asia was so immoral
her end justified the means.
Gee, Joe, you haven't been the same
since your son went crazy in Vietnam.
It's a pain that never ends.
(Dragnet theme playing)
♪ How many roads must a man walk down ♪
♪ Before you can call him a man? ♪
Seven!
No, Dad, it's a rhetorical question.
Rhetorical, eh?
Eight.
Dad, do you even know what "rhetorical" means?
Do I know what "rhetorical" means?
(doorbell rings)
Quick, Grandma, hide!
(pounding)
(crashing)
No door is going to keep me from my meddlin'.
Stand up straight, Bart.
Abe?
What the...
Now, here's a piece of bad news.
Oh, Abe. You've aged terribly.
What do you expect?
You left me to raise the boy on my own.
I had to leave, but you didn't have to tell Homer I was dead!
It was either that or tell him
his mother was a wanted criminal.
You were a rotten wife
and I'll never, ever forgive you.
Can we have sex? Please?
Oh, Abe.
Well, I tried. What's for supper?
Yeah, I might have seen her. It's hard to tell
from this old picture, you know?
Well, according to our computer-aging program
she should look about...
25 years older.
Yeah, I seen her.
Uh, that is to say, I saw her.
Look at me, Grandma. I'm a hippie.
Peace, man. Groovy.
Bomb Vietnam!
Four more years! Up with people!
You know, Grandma, I used to think maybe I was adopted.
I couldn't understand how I fit into this family.
Now that I met you
I suddenly make a lot of sense.
I'm so glad to see the spirit of the '60s
is still alive in you kids.
(Laugh-In theme playing)
Yup, I saw her.
That is to say, I seen her.
She seemed like a nice lady.
Well, that "nice lady"
set the cause of biological warfare back 30 years.
We're only now finally caught up.
Two more ladies come by earlier that day.
One was real pretty.
T'other, sort of plain.
Ma'am, we're going to need your assistance
in locating this individual.
(chuckling) Oh, you're fresh.
Don't you want to play "good cop, bad cop"?
Ma'am, we're all good cops.
I had no intention of playing the good cop.
(chuckles)
Ew.
Look, we know you bought the tombstone.
We know the fugitive visited that tombstone.
Whose tombstone was it?
Just lift up your coffee cups and see.
(gasps)
Good Lord.
Put out an A.P.B. On a "Uosdwis R. Dewoh."
Uh, better start with Greektown.
That's Homer J. Simpson, Chief.
You're reading it upside down.
Uh, cancel that A.P.B.
But bring back some of them, uh, gyros.
Uh, Chief, you're talking into your wallet.
Grandma, have you ever thought
about moving back to Springfield?
You could live with Grampa again.
(laughter)
Oh, I'm a living joke.
You know, Lisa...
(phone rings)
it might be nice to rest for a while.
Mom?
There's nothing to be alarmed about,
but could you take one last look at the family
and join me in the kitchen?
I've been waiting 25 years for this moment.
("Ride of the Valkyries" playing)
("Waterloo" playing)
I'm sorry, sir. I must have taped over that.
(volume increasing) ♪ Knowing my fate is to be with you ♪
Freeze.
F.B.I. The jig is up.
All right, I admit it!
I am the Lindbergh baby.
Wah-wah. Goo, goo.
I miss my fly-fly da-da.
Are you trying to stall us, or are you just senile?
A little from column "a," a little from column "b."
(panting) Sir...
she's gone.
We made it, Homer.
It's all thanks to our anonymous tipster.
But who are you and why did you tip us off?
Well, it's 'cause of your old lady that I got rid
of the asthma that was keeping me out of the academy.
Thanks.
Sure. Just think of me as an anonymous friend
who rose through the ranks of the Springfield Police
to become Chief Clancy Wig...
(dial tone)
Yak, yak, yak, yak, yak.
(horn beeping)
Well, there's my ride.
The underground awaits.
(sniffling) At least this time I'm awake for your good-bye.
(sniffing) Oh, Homer.
Remember: whatever happens,
you have a mother
and she's truly proud of you.
Oh...
Oh! Hurry up, man.
This electric van only has 20 minutes of juice left.
Don't forget me.
Don't worry, Homer.
You'll always be a part of me.
D'oh!
♪♪
Shh!
CAPTIONS ENHANCED BY ROUNDABOUT ENTERTAINMENT INC.