♪ The Simpsons ♪
(tires screech)
D'oh!
-(screams) -(tires screech)
(printer whirs, beeps)
MAN: May I offer my condolences
on the untimely passing
of your great Aunt Hortense.
As her only living heirs
you stand to inherit her entire estate.
(crying)
Poor Aunt Hortense!
(cries)
(softly) Whoo-hoo!
(crying)
Whoo-hoo!
The only stipulation
is that you spend one night in a haunted house.
Oh. Isn't that somewhat unusual?
No. It's a standard clause.
Well, luckily, there's no such thing as ghosts.
Yes, there's no such thing as ghosts.
(all yawning)
Best night's sleep I ever had.
Their tap water
tasted better than ours.
Here you go.
$100 each.
The rest goes to Ann Landers
as was stipulated in your Aunt's will.
Hmm?
Oh, I'm sorry.
I must have continued talking
after you left the office.
I do that sometimes.
(diabolical laugh)
Oh, my!
What are you going to spend your money on, kids?
There's a special on tacos down at The Tacomat:
a hundred tacos for a hundred dollars. I'm gonna get that.
I'm going to contribute my money
to the Corporation for Public Broadcasting.
Tacos?!
Public broadcasting?!
I won't have you kids throwing your money away like that.
You're both coming downtown with me and you're gonna put that money in the bank.
Boy, I sure could go for 100 tacos right about now.
No!
Yes, this should provide adequate sustenance
for the Dr. Who marathon.
MARGE: You'll feel better knowing
your money's in the hands of professionals.
(muffled) Ook Ook.
Are you folks ready to go ape?
Mom?
A professional in an ape mask
is still a professional.
And you'll find that saving for your future
is far more thrilling than any roller coaster.
Really? Wow! I should have started a long time ago!
Mm-hmm. Now fill out these forms.
I'm sure you'll find them more exciting
than a weekend with Batman.
I got their new Thrifty Saver savings account.
2.3% annual interest instead of the normal 2.25.
So a year from now, I'll have an extra nickel.
I got the account
where you get free customized checks.
I chose the Hindenburg flip-book series.
Cool!
Mmm. Checking accounts aren't really for children, Bart.
No, Mom. I can handle it.
Let's see. "Pay to the order of..."
Lisa-- one cent and no cents.
And now, the old John Hancock.
There you go.
Thank you.
MILHOUSE: $1 million!
Thanks, Bart! I owe you one.
That's a postdated check remember.
Don't cash it till the year 10,000.
Okay.
(watch ticks)
Excellent!
As soon as the check clears, I'll let you go.
-Krusty! -Krusty!
That's it. No more autographs.
I gotta go.
They're naming a new sandwich after me
at my restaurant.
Oh!
That's okay, Bart. You can share mine.
Quick-- press against me while
the ink's still wet.
No need. I'm going to get Krusty's autograph
the easy way.
If he wants these 25 cents
he'll have to endorse the check by signing it on the back.
Then, when my monthly bank statement comes
I'll get the check back complete with autograph.
No fuss, no muss.
That's a good plan,
but it won't impress girls like this.
-Ew! -Ew!
(laughing heartily)
Lisa's autograph...
Apu's autograph...
Oh, what do you know?
Jimbo's real name is Corky.
And...
Krusty!
Hey! "Cayman Islands Offshore Holding Corporation"?
Krusty was supposed to sign this.
Take it back and make him sign it.
Ah, no, no.
Stamping the back of a check
is perfectly legal, little boy.
Many people do it to save time.
You see, in this case, instead of writing out his name
Krusty has stamped the name
of his Cayman Islands Holding Corporation
on the... hmm.
Ah, excuse me a minute.
(chuckles)
Oh, I'm sorry.
I can't divulge information
about that customer's secret illegal account.
Oh, crap. I shouldn't have said he was a customer.
Oh, crap! I shouldn't have said it was a secret.
Oh, crap!
I certainly shouldn't have said it was illegal.
Ah. It's too hot today.
Hey, hey, hey, hey!
I bought this popcorn fair and square!
Sorry, the bank is...
Oh, kid!
Gosh, I meant to tell you.
Turns out that Krusty
is one of the biggest tax cheats in history,
and they nailed him-- all thanks to you.
-(gasps) -Some might say you're a hero, kid.
Not me, however. I love Krusty.
Ladies and gentlemen, Krusty the Clown...
was arrested today for massive tax fraud.
Krusty's years of tax avoision would never have cah--
Avoision? It's a crime. Look it up.
-...would never have-- -VOICE (in headset): Evasion.
I don't say "evasion." I say "avoision."
...would never have come to light if not for
a crafty, little boy named Bart Simpson.
Krusty's my hero.
How could I do this to him?
It is a tragedy for all us kids,
but, Bart, you can't beat yourself up.
Yeah. There'll be enough people
to do that for me at recess tomorrow.
Oh, I can't go to jail!
I got a swanky lifestyle.
I'm used to the best.
Krusty, this is America. We don't send our celebrities to jail.
We're just going to garnish your salary.
Garnish my celery?
Please, Krusty, no jokes.
Who's joking?
Oy! Oh, I don't know what you're saying.
It all sounds so crazy to me.
It simply means we'll be taking part of your salary
until your debt is repaid.
Say, 75% for 40 years.
But I don't plan to live that long.
Better make it 95%.
Ah... oh... oy!
The Internal Revenue Service presents:
(chortling)
Hey, hey, kids!
Now, that the feds are calling the shots,
this show's got to be a lot more cost-effective.
So we had to cut down on the frills
like sets, props, costumes and Sideshow Mel.
But that doesn't mean we can't have fun.
For example, I sure wish somebody would give me
a banana cream pie.
Yeah!
Uh...
I guess we can't afford pies right now.
Well, throw something!
(screams)
Oh, that corner...
(groaning)
Um, I'll have four tax burgers,
one I.R.S.-wich, withhold the lettuce
three dependent-sized sodas,
and a fico-ccino.
Fill out Schedule B.
You should receive your burgers
in six to eight weeks.
(mumbling) Eh, let's see here...
Add Schedule B, divide 53...
take away...
Hey, Marge, what were your gambling losses last year?
MARGE: $700.
They took my money.
They wrecked my show.
They buried a bunch of stinking veterans
in my family plot,
but at least I still got my memories.
Those are locked up safe
in my fabulous mansion.
And now, lot number 66, a handmade leather suitcase
carried by the Krustofsky family
upon their arrival at Ellis Island in 1902.
A priceless heirloom
and historic piece of Krustiana. What am I bid?
40 cents.
I got 40 cents.
40 cents over there, 40 cents over here.
Who'll give me 50? Do I hear 50, 50?
Sold for 40 cents.
40 cents?
Ach! My Grampa Zev would turn over in his grave
if it wasn't filled with some veteran.
Lot 67, 32 cartons of pornography.
-Ten cents. -12!
12 cents to our phone bidder in Japan.
-Any advance? -All I brought is a dime.
I didn't know there would be pornography.
Sold for 12 cents.
Oh, my beloved pornography.
I can't watch this anymore.
I'm going to bed.
How much for Krusty's bed?
-Half a buck! -Sold!
Goodnight, everybody.
ALL: Good night, Moe!
(groaning)
And now, lot number 2,380, Krusty's private plane,
The I'm On A Rolla Gay.
KRUSTY: But I love that plane.
I used to fly to Vegas in it with Dean Martin.
One night, he looked out the window,
and the moon hit his eye like a big pizza pie.
We wrote a song about it,
but it ended up infringing on one he recorded years before.
Hey Selma, that plane would go great
with your new suitcase.
Nah, I just bought it to soak my feet in.
(moaning)
Krusty. Hi.
Is it okay if I sit down here?
Go ahead, kid.
Knock yourself out.
I'm sorry for all the trouble
I've caused you, Krusty.
But, you know, my Mom says
God never closes a door without opening a window.
No offense, kid, but your Mom's a dingbat.
There's no silver lining here.
I was a big cheese.
A huge cheese!
But now look at me.
I got to ride the bus like a schnook!
I got to live in an apartment like an idiot!
I got to wait in line with nobodies
to buy groceries from a failure!
It doesn't matter how you live or what you did wrong.
As long as you're on TV, people will respect you.
Respect? Bah!
What good is respect
without the moolah to back it up?
Everywhere I go, I see teachers in Ferraris,
research scientists drinking champagne.
I tried to drink a Coke on the bus
and they took away my pass!
That's no life for a famous clown.
Well, if it'll make you feel any better, Krusty,
you can punch me in the face.
Nah, forget it!
Go home, kid.
-(buzzing in distance) -(bell dings)
Shiva H. Vishnu!
Where is that noise coming from?
(Krusty bawling)
Well, I must say I've had a lovely evening, Agnes.
I don't suppose I could come in
for a cup of...
Seymour!
Mother... (gasps)
Superintendent Chalmers!
Skinner!
What I wouldn't give
for something to interrupt this awkward moment.
(Krusty bawling)
That will do nicely.
(bawling continues)
You got to hand it to Krusty.
Yeah, even with all his problems
he's still willing to do something unbelievably dangerous
just to entertain his fans.
-Wow! -Wow!
Oh, that's my Krusty.
I got a feeling he'll be all right.
Oh, my God!
Krusty's shoes!
Okay, folks, show's over.
Nothing to see here. Show's...
Oh, my God!
A horrible plane crash!
Hey, everybody, get a load of this flaming wreckage!
Come on, crowd around.
Crowd around. Don't be shy. Crowd around.
Ladies and gentlemen, Krusty the Clown...
is dead.
(all gasp)
I can't believe Krusty is really gone.
Don't worry, son.
I'm sure he's up in heaven right now
laughing it up with all the other celebrities.
John Dillinger, Ty Cobb, Joseph Stalin...
(sighs)
I wish I were dead.
We're gathered to mourn the passing
of Herschel Shmoikel Krustofsky
beloved entertainer and dear friend.
Hello, I'm Troy McClure.
You might remember me from such show business funerals
as "Andre the Giant: We Hardly Knew Ye"
and "Shemp Howard: Today We Mourn a Stooge."
Now, Krusty's closest friend and sidekick,
Sideshow Mel.
I'll miss you, Krusty
I, and all the other sideshows...
except Sideshow Bob.
But in the midst of our sorrow
we can take comfort in the fact
that your elevated blood alcohol level
probably helped you burn up quicker.
Since you left us no earthly remains,
it is my sad duty to unveil this simple memorial.
Next in our cavalcade of celebrity mourners...
Bob Newhart.
(clearing throat)
See, to tell you the truth, um...
I was-- I'm just killing time here.
I was waiting for a...
well, a different--
different funeral to start.
I'll handle it.
Bob Newhart, everybody!
(applause)
Oh, um...
(coughs) Although, you know,
though I-I started my career
several years before, uh, Krusty,
so, you know, I could never
really learn anything directly from him--
Uh, still...
I think in a way, in a very meaningful way,
that I, uh...
uh... all of us...
have, uh, have learned
from him.
You know, that is, by...
uh, by being a clown on television for...
for... for so many years
even, even though
many of us, we-- we didn't--
we didn't watch his show.
-(clearing throat) -(feedback squeals)
Th-thank you.
-(scattered applause) -(sniffles)
Well, that's the funeral, folks.
We'll be sitting Shiva at the Friar's Club
at 7 p.m. and again at 10.
You must be over 18 for the 10.
It gets a little blue.
And so Herschel Krustofsky is gone, but not forgotten.
Today was the unveiling of the new Krusty stamp.
Postal patrons were asked to choose
between two competing designs:
one of Krusty's heartwarming smile
and one of his fiery death.
By a nearly two-to-one vote, the smiling Krusty was chosen.
(mechanical groaning)
(groaning continues)
Don't let Krusty's death get you down, boy.
People die all the time.
Just like that.
Why, you could wake up dead tomorrow.
Well, good night.
(switch clicks)
(gasps)
Krusty!
(humming)
Mom! I just saw Krusty!
Yes, dear, in your mind.
No, on the street.
On the street in your mind.
Why won't you believe me?
Sweetheart, maybe you just want Krusty
to be alive so badly, you think you see him everywhere.
I went through the same thing when Lyndon Johnson died.
DR. HIBBERT: And these pills will help with the queasiness.
Krusty?
Doctor Hibbert, Who was that man?
Now Bart, telling you would violate
the patient-doctor privilege,
just as if I were to tell you
that Jasper here has five seconds to live.
What'd he say?
He said I'm next.
Am I going crazy?
I'm seeing Krusty everywhere.
Bart, you're seeing Krusty everywhere because you want
to tell him you're sorry for causing his death.
Would it help if I told you you're not responsible for Krusty's death?
Yes. Yes, it would.
Well, I can't. You'll just have to learn to live with your mental problem.
Wait a minute-- all those things I saw.
There's a connection.
The truck full of nets and buckets...
the queasy guy... the lobsters...
they all point to one thing.
Follow me.
Arr, I've got some customers.
Call me back, Ishmael.
Ahoy there, minnows.
Ahoy, have you seen this man?
Arr, that's Handsome Pete.
He dances for nickels.
Pete, ye got some customers.
(playing "Sailor's Hornpipe")
No, we're looking for this man,
Krusty the Clown.
Mmm. Narr, narr, narr.
It's hopeless, Bart.
We've searched up and down these docks, from pier one
to that Pier 1 by pier 17.
Lisa, look.
A signature with stars around it, just like Krusty's.
Rory B. Bellows.
Slip 8. Let's go.
(playing "Sailor's Hornpipe")
Not a quarter.
Darr, he'll be dancing for hours.
Are you Rory B. Bellows?
Yes.
How about Krusty the Clown?
Sorry, I don't do impressions.
Well, if you're not Krusty,
how come you have the exact same signature as him?
I'm Rory Bellows, I tell you
and I got a lot of corroborating evidence
over... here
by the throttle!
(chuckling)
Oh... you know you two could have said something
instead of letting me make an ass of myself.
Hey, you got a pacemaker scar just like Krusty.
And Krusty's superfluous third nipple.
(groaning)
Can't you see I don't want to be Krusty anymore?
That's why I faked my death.
But we saw your plane crash.
Yeah, but I wasn't in it.
Just before I hit the mountain
I jumped out of the plane
into a carefully placed net.
(groaning)
So now that we've blown your cover,
I guess you gotta come back and do your show again.
Or kill us...
(nervous giggling)
I won't be coming back, kids.
I got a sweet life here.
The sea air is clearing my lungs.
The sun is toasting my pale skin a healthy brown,
and most important, I learned
that I don't need money to be happy.
All that high living just distracted me
from my true calling in life:
salvaging sunken barges for scrap iron.
Sorry kids, there's nothing left for me on dry land anymore.
But Krusty, what about all the kids who depend on you
to brighten up their afternoons?
Are you gonna turn your back on them?
Yes!
Come on, Lis,
Krusty doesn't want our attention anymore.
Let's go worship somebody who has
the guts to be a celebrity.
Yeah, Krusty doesn't want to be a clown.
He's happy just being another blue-collar Bozo.
Meh.
Krusty's tired of having phonies around
pretending to be his friends.
I'm sure he'll find plenty of people
who'll like him for who he is.
Uh... it could happen.
Nah, who needs friends?
The incessant beep of the global positioning system
is all the companionship I need.
-(chuckling) -(beeping)
(screams)
Tell me where you are now, you bastard!
All right, I admit it.
I miss the phonies, but that's all I miss.
That and Shirley Jones and Marty Ingels'
New Year's Eve party.
What about that great feeling you get
from knowing you're better than regular people?!
BART: What about being an illiterate TV clown
who's still more respected than all the scientists,
doctors and educators in the country put together?
Yeah!
I'm not going to let those guys hog all the respect
while I'm out here in some stinking tub.
That's just what those eggheads want.
Well, forget it, Poindexter.
'Cause Krusty's back in town!
(cheering)
So, Krusty, what are you going to do
about your tax problem?
Don't sweat it.
The life of Rory B. Bellows is insured
for a surprisingly large amount.
(cackling laughter)
♪♪
Shh!
CAPTIONS ENHANCED BY ROUNDABOUT ENTERTAINMENT INC.