♪ The Simpsons ♪
(bell ringing)
D'oh!
(screams)
ANNOUNCER: Ladies and gentlemen,
the Springfield Mall in conjunction with
Nostalgia Licensing Corporation
is proud to present... the stars of "Bonanza"!
♪♪ ("Bonanza" theme)
Thank you. I just wish Ben and Hoss
and Little Joe and Hop Sing and Sheriff Roy
and all of your favorites could be alive today
to see this wonderful turnout.
You know, on the series
we were always trying to kill the Cartwrights.
(crowd booing)
But it looks like father time
took care of that for us, right?
Am I right, folks?
♪♪ ("Bonanza" theme)
Oh, this sucks.
Weren't there three Indians last year?
Look, Marge!
They opened a new high-tech gadget store!
-You love high-tech gadgets. -No, I don't.
Like bull, you don't. Come on.
Homer, please! You're hurting my arm!
(laughs) No, I'm not!
Hey, Lis.
Check out this space-age toothbrush.
That's an electric nostril groomer.
(coughs)
Night vision goggles?
A bathroom scale from a Soviet sub?
A suede briefcase case?
Mm. Anyone who needs this kind of status symbol
must have some terrible emotional problems.
(gasps) Marge, look!
"The world's best jacket."
if I had this, it would show everybody!
(growling maniacally) Show everybody!
Yes, finally!
I would like to return your "ultimate belt."
I see. Do you have a "receipt," sir?
No, I do not have a receipt.
I won it as a door prize at the Star Trek convention
although I find their choice of prize highly illogical
as the average Trekker
has no use for a medium-sized belt.
Whoa, whoa! A fat, sarcastic "Star Trek" fan.
You must be a devil with the ladies.
Hey, I-- that-- Oh...
Gee, I hate to let you down, Casanova,
but no receipt, no return.
I'll give you four bucks for it.
(sighs)
Very well. I must hurry back
to my comic book store
where I dispense the insults rather than absorb them.
Wow! I bet if God wore pants
he'd have a belt like that!
This isn't a belt.
It's a tactical pants-retaining system.
Check it out: Compass, matches,
whistle, saw, panic button, squirrel snare,
radon/lie detector, sphygmomanometer,
and it's even got turn signals.
(all exclaiming)
Hey, Simpson.
Want to trade belts?
Well, not really
'cause yours is just a piece of extension cord.
Hey, dude, he's ragging on your cord.
Get him.
No running.
Time for a little evasive action.
Hey!
He's turning left!
Help! Help! Help! Help! Help!
I was hoping it wouldn't come to this
but you guys asked for it.
Can't you read?!
Call the police!
Hey, Dad.
Looking good, son.
Hey! What happened to your belt?
Some bullies beat me up and took it.
Son, there's only one thing punks like that understand--
squealing.
You've got to squeal to every teacher
and every grown-up you can find.
Coming to me was a good start.
But then they'll just beat me up even worse!
Yes. They are a clever bunch.
I know. I'll squeal for you-- to their parents.
(grunting)
JIMBO'S FATHER: That's for telling me how to raise my lousy kid.
And this is for the crummy life
I've had to live.
The thing is-- (grunts)
Bart really loves that belt, and--
Hey, something's wrong with this guy.
He's not falling down!
-(shotgun cocking) -MOE: Fun's over, fellas.
If you're gonna beat up my friend in my bar
there's a two-drink minimum.
Geez, Homer, I never seen
a guy stand up to that kind of punishment.
I mean, you took a three-man pounding
and didn't even fall down.
Big deal. I didn't even get my kid's belt back.
The only thing a loser like me is good for
is taking beatings.
There you go! That's the spirit!
Homer, I've seen prizefighters
couldn't take a punch half as good as you.
You know, boxing might be right up your alley.
-Really? -Oh, please!
It's the good life, Homer.
Some of these boxers
they eat steak and lobster and salad bar
all in a single meal.
(gasps) Dressing?
Their choice.
You really think I could do it?
Well, I don't know.
Are you man enough to test every one of your limits?
-Yes. -And are you man enough
to throw a punch, should the opportunity arise?
-Yes! -And are you
man enough to give me a 60% cut?
-Yes! -I'll take it.
Woo-hoo!
MOE: Now Homer,
if I'm going to manage your boxing career,
I want you to have complete faith in me.
Here, let me show you something.
Wow, I've never been in here before.
Yeah, well, when I realized
we hadn't had no ladies in here since 1979
I turned it into an office.
You used to be a boxer just like me?
Yep. They called me "Kid Gorgeous."
Later on, it was "Kid Presentable."
Then "Kid Gruesome,"
and finally, "Kid Moe."
Hey, what's this?
Aw, that's my old spit bucket.
Yeah, I've been meaning to empty that out.
(gasps) You know Lucius Sweet?!
He's one of the biggest names in boxing.
He's exactly as rich and as famous
as Don King and he looks just like him too.
Yeah, he was my manager.
Back when I was gorgeous, everybody wanted a piece of me,
but somehow I just never made it to the big time.
Why not?
'Cause I got knocked out 40 times in a row.
That plus politics. You know, it's all politics.
Lousy Democrats.
(Marge growling)
Homer, of all the crazy ideas you've had
this one ranks somewhere in the middle.
You're 38 years old.
You don't know how to box
and you haven't gotten any exercise since grade school.
Before you even consider this, I insist you consult a doctor.
No problemo.
A competent doctor!
HOMER: D'oh!
Well, sir, you more than meet
every one of this state's requirements
to box, wrestle or be shot out of a cannon.
(growling) That's what we get
for living in a state founded by circus freaks.
You have an absolutely unique genetic condition
known as "Homer Simpson syndrome."
Oh, why me?!
Don't worry, it's quite beneficial.
Your brain is cushioned by a layer of fluid
one-eighth of an inch thicker than normal.
It's almost as if you're wearing
a football helmet inside your head.
Why, I could wallop you all day with this surgical 2x4
without ever knocking you down, but I have other appointments.
All right, Homer let's see the left.
(grunts)
O-kay.
Let's see the right.
(panting)
Just a second.
When you're ready.
All right.
I'm ready.
Wait a minute.
All right.
Wait a minute. Just a second.
Okay, punching isn't your thing, but that's okay.
You're not that kind of fighter.
What you're going to do is stand there
while your opponent gets exhausted from overpunching.
Then I can just push him over.
That's right, and if the ref's not looking
you can kick him a couple of times.
-Who's gonna knock you down? -No one.
-When are you gonna fight back? -Never!
-What are you gonna do? -Nothing!
That's my boy!
Man, you'd never get me into a ring.
Boxing causes brain damage.
Okay, you're fighting a guy named Boxcar Bob.
Brawled his way up from the boxcars, did he?
No, not yet.
He still lives at the train yard
but he's a hungry young fighter.
In fact, he's actually fighting for a sandwich.
Homer, I want you to have my lucky mitts.
I hope you do better with them than I did.
Gee, thanks, Moe.
What's this?
Ah, that's the barbed wire.
We called that "the stinger."
They don't let you use that no more.
Now, no matter how much he hits you,
you don't do nothing, okay?
You don't want to get drawn
into a boxing match here.
(bell rings)
Way to go, Dad! Take those punches!
Man, that tramp's got the energy of a hobo.
Yeah, he never stops punching
except to check out his bindle.
Okay, Homer, he's tired. He's tired.
Now's your chance. Nudge him, nudge him.
(cheering)
♪♪
Hello, Moe.
Delightful to see you again.
Lucius! Hey, what's a glitterati like you doing in my dump?
I thought you were managing the champ.
Yes, managing Drederick has been my highest priority
even though he is temporarily incarcerated
for pushing his mother down the stairs,
but with his impending release
I've been strategizing for his glorious return
to the shores of fistiana.
Uh... what?
His comeback fight.
You know-- boxing?
Oh, man. Yeah.
Well, who's donating his body for that one, huh?
Well, word is you manage a stalwart young pugilist
who cannot be knocked down.
Homer?
You want Homer to fight Tatum?
Well, the fans are weary of fights that are over
before they have an opportunity
to even get drunk.
I just need a body
who can sustain verticality
for three rounds.
Yeah, but Homer's no boxer.
He's just a freak.
Tatum will fustigate him.
Well, fustigation aside, Moe,
you've got a choice.
You can either sit here in the ladies' room
with your faded memories,
or you can take your last shot at the big time
and I can make it happen.
(jingling)
Three rounds. That's all I ask.
I got to be honest with you, Homer.
I didn't bring you up here to show you my new tar paper.
You didn't?
No. Homer, how would you like
to be heavyweight champion of the world?
-Oh, sure. -Great.
All you got to do is fight Drederick Tatum.
It's this Saturday. Here's your parking pass.
Ooh. "General."
Who's Drederick Tatum, anyway?
-Is he another hobo? -Uh... you know what?
I'm gonna have to check on that.
Well, I trust you, Moe.
If you say I can beat this guy
then he doesn't stand a chance.
(alarm wailing)
(shouting)
Hey, guys, come on. Shut up.
(silence)
We didn't know you were here.
-Sorry, champ. -It was Jerry.
MAN 1: Champ, champ.
Do you feel remorse for your crime?
Oh, yes. Believe me, my God,
if I could turn back the clock on my mother's stair pushing,
I would certainly reconsider it.
MAN 2: Drederick, what do you think of Homer Simpson?
I think he's a good man, I like him.
I got nothing against him,
but I'm definitely gonna make orphans of his children.
MAN 3: You know, they do have a mother, champ.
Yes, but I would imagine that she would die of grief.
(reporters shouting)
Thank you, thank you
but the champ has no time for further queries.
This parole hearing is over.
(reporters groaning)
I wanted to know what it was like in prison.
Homer, why are they saying
you're going to fight Drederick Tatum?
(gulps)
Uh... well...
I was gonna surprise you, but...
happy anniversary, baby!
Have you lost your mind?!
Oh, come on!
I'll make a fortune for one night's work.
We can have all the things we always dreamed of--
a snooty butler, carpeted carports,
those blue cupcakes they sell sometimes--
But you'll get killed.
Marge, will you let me finish?
Plug-in room deodorizers,
front and rear spoilers for the car.
Mom's right, Dad.
The odds against you winning are a thousand to one.
I don't think it's that unlikely.
Those are the odds they're giving in Vegas.
All right
I think we've heard just about enough
from Mr. Newspaper today.
MAN: Society put Drederick Tatum away
for his brutal crime,
but he's paid his debt,
and now he's going to get revenge
on Homer Simpson.
BOTH: Yay!
That's your daddy.
T-shirts. Get your T-shirts.
Tell them where you've been by wearing a T-shirt.
BART: You'll be okay, Dad.
Just make sure he hits you an even number of times
so you don't end up with amnesia.
Moe, I'm so glad I found you.
Please, promise me you won't let Homer get hurt.
Hey, I'm not the villain here, okay?
If Homer gets killed in the ring tonight,
it will be because of your negative attitude.
-There, I said it. -Listen to me!
The instant that Homer's in any kind of danger,
I want you to throw in this towel
and stop the fight!
All right, all right, all right, I promise, okay?
Thank you.
Celebrities at ringside tonight:
star of the "McBain" action films
and feature player in the Hollywood prostitution scandal,
Rainier Wolfcastle!
TV anchorman and Springfield institution,
Mr. Kent Brockman!
(crowd booing)
This just in: Go to hell.
From the world of organized crime,
say hello to Anthony "Fat Tony" D'Amico!
And the ruiner of events worldwide--
title fights, the Super Bowl and the Nixon funeral--
ladies and gentlemen, the Fan Man.
Ah, cripes.
Now I've got to comb this side over.
All right, Homer, I'm not gonna lie to you--
there's a good chance you can beat Tatum
but you've got to visualize how you're gonna win, okay?
Gotcha.
(crowd cheering)
A congenital heart defect has apparently felled Tatum
moments before he could step into the ring.
And now, please welcome back into decent society,
ladies and gentlemen,
the heavyweight champion of the world,
Drederick Tatum!
(cheering)
♪♪ (rap)
Let's get ready to rumble!
♪ In this corner we have the full-body snatcher ♪
♪ P-funkadelic and I gotcha ♪
♪ Hard enough that I could chew a whole bag of rock ♪
♪ Chew an avenue chew an off street ♪
ANNOUNCER: And to challenge the irresistible force
of Tatum
we have the immovable object.
He's been called "the brick hithouse"
and is also known as "the southern dandy,"
Homer Simpson!
♪ Why can't we be friends? ♪
Your boy looks a little soft, Moe.
You do remember our arrangement?
Yeah, don't worry.
You'll get your three rounds.
Stupendous.
Because if he goes down before that bell rings,
your future's going with him.
Okey-doke. Future down the crapper. Gotcha.
Due to popular demand,
we will forgo our national anthem.
And now, ladies and gentlemen
l-l-l-let's get ready to rumb-l-l-le!
-(cheering) -(bell dings)
Okay, Homer, nothing to be worried about. Just--
(crowd gasps)
Wow! I've never seen Dad hit somebody like that before.
What are you talking about?
Isn't Dad the one in the black trunks?
-No. -Uh-oh.
What, what, what am I missing? What?
ANNOUNCER: And there's Tatum showboating for the crowd.
Geez, only six seconds in.
Attaboy, Homer. Keep dancing.
ANNOUNCER: Showing utter disdain for his opponent's abilities,
Tatum is taking a short, midround breather
to converse with actor Charlie Sheen.
You know what's great there is the sea bass.
They do it blackened or sauteed. It's stupendous.
Okay, break it up, break it up, you two.
MARGE: Homer!
Homer, he's not going to get tired.
You've got to hit him back.
Hit him back!
HOMER: That cactus is right.
I've only got one chance.
I've got to knock him out.
D-o-h-h-h-h!
Hang in there, Homer.
Only 440 more seconds.
He's getting his second wind.
No. He's getting killed.
He's gonna die on his feet.
I can't watch this.
I've got to get out of here.
Fight!
Somebody stop the fight!
Where's the doctor?!
Kill him! Kill him!
ANNOUNCER: It looks like it's all over.
Tatum wants to finish this with one punch,
and here it comes.
(heart beating slowly)
ANNOUNCER: Oh, my God!
Simpson's manager
has flown into the ring and is airlifting him out.
Ladies and gentlemen,
whatever dignity remained in boxing
is literally flying out the window.
Are you an angel?
Yes, Homer, I'm an angel.
All us angels wear Farah slacks.
But you stopped the fight.
Won't everyone be mad at you?
Let them be mad.
The only thing that matters to me
is you're safe.
D'oh!
Sorry.
Homer, your manager
obviously loves you very much.
Lucius, would you do that for me?
Absolutely, I would.
Now get in the van.
You couldn't even give me one lousy round, Moe.
You will always be a loser.
Now take your check for $100,000
and get out of my sight.
I don't need your stinking money.
Oh, Homie, are you okay?
I can't remember where we parked.
That's all right.
We'll just wait till everyone else leaves.
I got your tooth, Dad.
Uh, not mine.
Thank you, Moe.
I know you gave up your dreams for Homer.
Well, what do dreams matter, Marge?
I was able to stick up for a pal.
Well, so long, Springfield.
Where are you going?
Nowheres in particular.
I just need some time to think.
Hey, there you are!
You give me that contraption back!
♪ People who need people ♪
♪ Are the luckiest people ♪
♪ In the world ♪
♪ With one person ♪
♪ One very special person ♪
♪ They're the luckiest people ♪
♪ In the world ♪♪
Shh!
CAPTIONS ENHANCED BY ROUNDABOUT ENTERTAINMENT INC.