MAN: Hmm.
No.
No. No.
(hearty laugh)
No.
Hmm... I think we can do without the crack pipe.
Oh, hi. As the Fox censor,
it's my job to protect you from reality.
And thanks to my prudent editing,
tonight's special Halloween show
has been rated TV-G.
This means there will be no raunchy NBC-style sex
or senseless CBS-style violence.
So sit back and enjoy a night of worry-free--
(groaning) What the fudge--
Oh, for Pete's sake!
(groans)
Jiminy Christmas! (screams)
Darn it!
(spooky music playing)
(all moaning)
(bell clanging)
And that's how an heroic hippo became a deputy.
Stupid hippo.
This just in.
Tensions continue to mount between Springfield and France
over Mayor Quimby's now-famous frog's legs joke!
The French president has threatened swift and massive retaliation
if he doesn't receive an immediate apology.
Stupid frog.
We now go live to city hall for Mayor Quimby's response.
I stand by my ethnic slur!
Do your worst, you filthy, pretentious savages!
Homer, you know how unpredictable the French are.
One minute they're kissing a woman's hand, the next, they're chopping off her head.
What if they start a war?
Relax. I built a bomb shelter.
That's not gonna protect us from anything!
Fine, then don't use it.
-I won't. -Good.
-I know it's good. -So do I.
-I'm happy for you. -You should be.
Now, this baby is called "The Withstandinator."
It can take a six-megaton blast. No more, no less.
Oooh!
Blankets, radio.
(gasps) Oh, a Gary Larson calendar.
I don't get it. I don't get it.
I... don't get it.
(romantic accordion music plays)
Sacre bleu!
We will show those stupid Americans
who looks like ze frog, eh?
(all chortling)
Ready, aim-
(popping sound)
What the hell was that?
Calling home planet.
This is Ensign Kang reporting
a cigar-shaped object moving at tremendous speed.
Sure, Kang, I'm writing it all down.
-(chuckles) -(snorts)
I'll bet I get blamed for this.
But, Aquaman, you cannot marry a woman without gills.
You're from two different worlds.
(bomb whistle sound)
Oooh, I've wasted my life.
You call that prime rib? Yuck.
(horn blaring)
It's green, moron! Earth to stupid guy. Hello?
(groans) Maybe a little friendly punching will move your ass.
Ha! Still got it!
(wind howling)
Geez, what's with all the dust?
My God!
Everyone's gone!
(whimpers, voice cracking) Little Bart.
(bat striking ball)
-Little Lisa. -(bat striking ball)
-Little Marge. -(bat not striking ball)
And the rest!
(sobbing)
Oh, I've lost everything! I can't go on!
No. No, no!
I can't just wallow in sadness. It's time to laugh again!
(giddy laughter)
I'm the last man alive...
(voice echoing) and I can do everything I've always wanted!
-(both yelling) -(bees buzzing)
Oh, Spade, why did you put Farley in charge of the bees?
Hey, buddy, down in front!
(grunts, laughing)
♪ I said... ♪
-♪ War, huh ♪ -♪ War, huh! ♪
♪ Good God, y'all ♪ -♪ Good God, y'all ♪
-♪ What is it good for? ♪ -♪ What is it good for? ♪
-♪ Absolutely nothin' ♪ -♪ Absolutely nothin' ♪
-♪ Say it again ♪ -♪ Say it again ♪
OK.
Hey, what happened to the tunes?
(shrieks)
Hey, what the hell's going on? Where'd you get those cloaks?
Silence! You're talking too loud.
Not everyone died in the blast, Homer.
Some of us were merely horribly mutated.
(laughing)
(gasps) You're mutants?
Uh, we don't like the word "mutants," Homer.
We prefer "freaks" or "monsters."
We're creating a new perfect society
in which the mistakes of the past will be eliminated.
And now... you must die.
(all moaning)
-You want me? Come and get me! -Get him!
-D'oh! -(all moaning)
(screams) Look, a coffin!
-(engine not turning over) -(moaning continues)
(engine starting)
-(all shouting) -After him.
Die, you chalk-faced goons!
(both screaming)
Come on. We just wanna eat your skin.
Go to hell, cloaky!
(tires screeching)
-Safe at last. -(doorbell rings)
That better not be the mutants.
-(screams) -MARGE: Homie, is that you?
(gasps) Marge, kids, you're alive!
All the layers of lead paint in this house made it the perfect bomb shelter.
Oh, come here.
(all sighing)
Kinda brings a tear to your eye socket.
Mm-hmm. In the midst of all the killing and skin eating,
somehow we forgot the love.
Yeah, ain't that always the way?
You get nuts with the skin eating.
You know, I don't see any reason why freaks and norms can't get along.
(all murmuring agreement)
Why not? Yeah.
We can all work together to build a utopian society
free of violence, hate and prejudice.
That sounds beautiful, Ned. And let me just say...
my family and I share your vision for a better-- Now!
(all gasp)
(all groaning)
Hmph! Friends with mutants-- Right!
Now that's the Marge I married.
So, who wants to steal some Ferraris?
LISA: I do! BART: I do!
MARGE: I do!
LISA: Yeah, let's go!
Wow, look at all these gadgets. If I were a nerd, I'd be in heaven.
Good morning, ma'am. Good afternoon, sir.
It passed noon while I was speaking,
so that was technically accurate.
He's crazy.
Hey, Eins-teen, how much for the mood pants?
(mutters) How much you got?
Nice try, Floyd, but you were designed for scrubbing.
And scrubbing is what you shall do.
(whistling)
(hum resonating)
(whistling)
Hmm!
I take it from that little impressed noise
that you are interested in purchasing that matter transporter, sir.
Um, two bucks.
And it only transports matter.
Um, well, uh-
I'll give you 35 cents.
Sold! But I must warn you
this device carries a frighteningly high risk of catastrophic--
I said I'll take it.
This mountain of stairs used to make bedtime a grueling chore
but not anymore, baby.
(hum resonating)
(chuckling) Good night, losers.
Man, how'd I ever live without this thing?
(contented sigh)
Oh, man, that's good!
(grunting) Hmm.
(humming)
-(unzipping) -Homer, no!
-(zips up pants) -Oh!
Hey, Dad, can I use the transporter sometime?
Please, I swear I'll be careful.
Sorry, but this is a highly sophisti-ma-cated doo-wacky.
If you don't use it responsibly, kablamo!
LISA: Ow! Someone just punched me in the face!
It was your mother!
OK, cat, now if this works, your next trip will be to the bank vault.
(frantic meowing)
(barking)
(alarm beeping)
(whimpering)
Whoa, cool! Twice the pet and none of the mess.
Oh! Ugh! You can be Lisa's.
(fly buzzing)
Hmm...
Look, in the sky! It's Superfly!
Oh, I'd be stupid not to do this!
(alarm beeping)
It worked!
Oh... I was hoping to be humongous.
Tch. Oh, well, at least I don't have two butts.
MARGE: What's going on down there? What's all this mist?
Uh-oh.
-(banging) -(groans)
-(banging window) -Ow! Ow! Oh! Ow! Oh!
Bart, are you in there?
Have you forgotten our little "kablamo" talk?
(growling)
(all scream)
(blubbering)
Mom, stop!
According to this, it says Bart mixed up his D.N.A. with a fly's.
I think that's Bart!
(babbling)
I think she's right. The pants are a dead giveaway.
Oh, well, he may be a horrible freak, but he's still my son.
I'm sure we'll grow to accept him in time.
(slurping)
So then Lenny says, "As if! Don't even go there, sister."
(all laughing)
-Good one, Dad. -Yeah, well, Lenny said it.
Bluggh!
-Blarrr! Blagh! -Oh. You want more syrup, honey?
There's one thing I still don't understand.
When Bart went through the transporter, what happened to his head?
Oh, it'll turn up somewhere.
(high-pitched) Help me! Help me!
Sucker!
(slurping)
-(growls) -OK, OK. It's your sugar, Bart.
That impostor!
(Bart buzzing)
Mom, Dad, I'm the real Bart.
That's just some overgrown fly with my body.
-Somebody listen to me! -(grunts) Shoo! Shoo, fly!
(grunting)
Listen, buddy. This is all a mistake.
If you'll just go through the transporter with me again,
we'll have you back eating garbage in no time.
-Blarrgh! -(Bart gaaps)
(crashing)
Get him, boy! Smash that fly!
Mush him up good!
Nice work, son.
(thunderclap)
Bart! Is that you?
-(buzzing) -I can't hear you. Wait.
Fly into my saxophone.
Help me, Lise! That giant fly stole my body and now he's trying to kill me!
Oh, no! And I let him use my toothbrush!
Well, that hideous creep doesn't scare me.
(screaming)
Mom, Dad, help! He's trying to kill me!
Nobody likes a tattletale, honey.
They're like this every rainy day.
(grunting)
Bluggh! Blagh!
(buzzing)
Bluggh! Blagh!
(Bart grunts)
Hey, get my filthy hands off my sister!
Whoa! No, don't eat me! You don't know where I've been!
You just made a big mistake, fly-boy!
(grunting)
Hey, it worked!
Well, we were lucky this time.
But it's all too clear that some things in this universe
aren't meant to be trifled with.
Homer, what are you doing?
Something I should have done a long time ago.
I'll teach you to mess with my machine!
-(screams) -I'm gonna chop you good!
That cost me 35 cents!
You're just making it worse! I promise I won't hurt you!
(animal howling)
QUIMBY: You are all hereby found guilty of the crime of witchcraft.
I sentence you hags to be burned at the stake
until you are deemed fit to reenter society.
Fire it up, boys.
-(crowd cheering) -Ha-ha!
-See you in hell, Seymour! -Good-bye, Mother.
How horrible!
If they're really witches, why don't they use their powers to escape?
-That sounds like witch talk to me, Lisa. -Never mind.
Well, that's 75 witches we've processed.
That ought to show God whose side we're on, eh, Pastor?
Yes, Nedwin, but we have many more strumpets to incinerate.
Brothers and sisters, there is still a witch among us.
Let us throw open the floor to, uh, wild accusations.
Whoo-hoo! I accuse Goodie Flanders!
-(gasps) -(crowd murmuring)
I accuse Goodie Badwife.
Uh, we killed her on Sunday.
Well, there must be someone here we can accuse.
-Lisa Simpson! -Bart, quit it!
She put a spell on me!
Must... drop... pantaloons.
-(groans) -Whoa!
Let's come to our senses, everyone.
This witch hunt is turning into a circus.
-She's the witch! -(crowd shouting)
Yeah! She's the witch!
I was just about to accuse her.
This is crazy. I'm not a witch!
Ha! Then how come your laundry is always much whiter than mine?
-Oh, I've heard enough. Burn her! -ALL: Burn her! Burn her!
People, let us not turn into an angry mob.
Goodie Simpson is entitled to due process.
OK, here's how the process works.
You sit on the broom and we shove you off the cliff.
-What? -Well, hear me out.
If you're innocent, you will fall to an honorable Christian death.
If, however, you are the bride of Satan,
you will surely fly your broom to safety.
At that point, you will report back here for torture and beheading.
Tough, but fair.
Stop!
Doesn't the Bible say, "Judge not lest ye be judged"?
(murmuring agreement)
The Bible says a lot of things. Shove her!
(gasps)
(screaming)
Brothers and sisters...
we have performed the Lord's work
and sent a good woman into his waiting--
-(gasping) -(cackling)
OK, now, let's not jump to conclusions, everyone.
Well, I'll be a son of a witch.
That's right, I'm a witch.
And I'm the one who withered your livestock,
soured your sheep's milk and made your shirts itchy.
-Hey, you destroyed my turnip crop. -No, that was gophers.
Impossible. We burned all the gophers.
Not all of them.
(screaming)
And this is for pushing me off the cliff!
-MAN: Whoa! Whoa! -(all gasping)
All right, people, nothing to see here.
Yeah, show's over, all right? Move along.
As for the rest of you-- (cackling)
(screaming)
(gasps) They're in my hair! They're in my hair!
Mmm, mmm, mmm...
This needs more eye of newt.
You always want more eye of newt.
If it were up to you, the brew would be nothing but newt eyes.
Well, look who's here.
If I knew you were coming, I'd have baked a cat.
What a day! They found out I was a witch, so I had to leave my family.
Really? So you finally left Durwood.
His name is Homer.
Oh, Neddie, look at them up there, plotting our doom.
They could force us to commit wanton acts of carnality.
-(scoffs) Yeah, that'll be the day. -What's that, Ned?
Uh, we shouldn't fear the witches, Maude.
We're both 35. We've already gone way past our life expectancy.
But think of the children! I heard that witches come to your house
and take your children away to eat them!
Hmm. Eat their children.
Geez, we were just gonna swipe their shoes.
But a good idea is a good idea.
(all cackling)
-NED: Who is it? -ALL: Witches!
MAUDE: Um, what do you want?
We're here to eat your kids.
NED: OK, come on in...
and look at this!
Oh, please!
Now make with the kids.
Don't blame yourself, Daddy.
(muffled) You did everything you could.
(whimpers) Maude, do something.
Oh. Uh, well, excuse me.
Are you sure you ladies wouldn't prefer some gingerbread children instead?
-They're boneless. -ALL: Hmm?
-ALL: Mmm. -CHILDREN: Ow!
(hooting)
Bye, witches. Thanks for not eating me.
Yeah, you hags are all right.
What did you get?
-A candied apple. -I got a caramel cod.
Mmm, you know, scaring people into giving us treats is fun.
We should do this every year.
I just wish we hadn't filled up on all those kids
before we got to the Flanders'.
(belches)
(all cackling)
Yar, and that's the story of the very first caramel cod.
I mean, Halloween. And it wasn't long
before this yearly custom became an annual tradition.
(children chattering)
(grunting)
Come on! Give us some candy! Don't pretend you're not home.
Dad, that's our house.
(crowd laughing)
-She's a witch! -MAN: Get her! Get her!
-(crowd shouting) -(Lisa screaming)
Burn her! Burn her!
(woman screaming)
Captioned by Visual Data Media Service