(theme song playing)
CHORUS: ♪ The Simpsons ♪
(bell rings)
(tires screeching)
D'oh! (screams)
(tires screeching)
(gulping)
Ah! I love these lazy Saturdays.
It's Wednesday, Homer.
(shrieks) Work!
(tires screeching)
(Homer sighs)
I love these real Saturdays.
They're so relaxing.
Not like that fake Saturday that almost got me fired.
(slurping)
(groans)
Is this all we're going to do today?
Absolutely.
(gagging)
(sighs)
(gagging)
(sighs)
You know, Homer,
I'm starting to realize life is short.
It is?
We have to make the most of the time we have.
We do?!
Otherwise, we could wake up one day
and realize we've wasted our whole lives.
Oh, that.
(chuckles)
(slurping and gagging)
Hmm, "Friends of the library"
is holding an historic manuscript viewing.
(blowing raspberry) Friends of the library?
Ooh... Ooh!
There's an Azalea festival at the public garden.
I went yesterday.
(groans)
Lenny really wanted to go!
I'm tired of being cooped up in this house all the time.
Open a window.
Oh...
All right, I hear you, honey.
Change into something nice.
We're stepping out.
The police auction?
Can you believe it?
It's already been a year.
Wow, sweetheart, look at all this seized booty.
We could find the drug boat of our dreams.
I don't want a drug boat.
Well, I bet there's drug dresses
and drug vacuum cleaners, too.
WIGGUM: All right, listen up.
Listen up!
These prestigious, wrought iron
security gates are bulletproof, bombproof,
and battering-ram resistant.
Now...
Then what happened to Johnny D.?
He forgot to lock them.
Now, what am I bid?
-One kilo. -Sold.
Ay-yi-yi, my gates.
Ay, Johnny C. Gave me those.
Tough break, Amigo.
(laughs)
Next item up for bids.
(crowd murmuring)
Oh, no!
Oh, hey, look, they're selling your car, man.
Boy, it's nice.
Oh, I will totally kill whoever buys li'l bandit.
Sold.
Woo-hoo!
(imitating car revving)
You bought a car
without consulting me?
I don't recall being consulted
when you bought that hat.
I found this hat.
Then what are you complaining about?
You got yours.
Mm-hmm-mm.
(tires screeching)
Homer, be careful.
Oh, yeah, you got to be careful
when you do a trick like this.
(screaming)
Stop, Homer!
Stop it. Let me out!
You're the boss.
I'm not getting back in this car
until you drive like a sane person.
OK, bye, love you.
You know, if you lived here you'd be home by now.
Mr. Hutz, I didn't know you sold real estate.
You didn't?
We should talk more often, Marge.
You see, the law business is a little slow
and since most of my clients
wind up losing their houses,
this was a natural move for me.
Helping people find homes...
That must be really rewarding.
Yes, the money is good.
But the beauty is
you get to stay in the house until it's sold.
Come on, guys, let's go for a swim.
(dogs barking)
Gee, this hot rod is souped-up
six ways from Sunday.
Never had you figured for a gear-head, Homer.
Oh, yeah, I'm a real expert.
Is that a six-barrel holley carb?
-You betcha. -Edelbrock intakes?
-Nothing but. -Meyerhof lifters?
Oh, yeah.
I made that last one up.
I see.
MARGE: Selling real estate could be
just what I'm looking for.
I'd really like to give it a try.
I don't know, Marge.
Trying is the first step toward failure. (grunts)
Oh, boy, I've got a lot to learn before that license test.
Don't worry, Mom, we'll help you study.
'Course, we'll have to cut back
on our own homework.
What in the heck is a "dwelling"?
So, you're married
and looking for your first house
Mr. and Mrs...?
-Superman. -Oh, don't listen to my husband.
He's just an idiot.
Now, I'm a veterinarian
and I need to keep lots of sick animals in my house.
Is that permitted?
Not in my damn house!
Well, this neighborhood is zoned R-3,
which allows dogs, cats, phone-answering monkeys,
and... Oh...
I'll never memorize all this.
When I had to learn about the Magna Carta,
I made up a song.
(to the tune of "Camptown Races")
♪ In 1215 at runnymede, doo-dah, doo-dah ♪
♪ The nobles and the king agreed, oh, de doo-dah day ♪
We should have lived together first.
ALL: ♪ On the closing day, the escrow agents pay ♪
♪ Taxes, liens and interest, too ♪
♪ Thanks to Fanny Mae ♪
♪ They back your bank ♪
You're all nuts.
(humming "Swanee River")
-Easement! -(bell rings)
Time's up.
You may now undermine each other's confidence.
Arr, I nailed that one about houseboats. Did you?
I passed!
(both): Yay! Way to go!
Uh-Oh!
Oh, thank you, Bart.
Thank you, Lisa, for all your help.
What about me? You didn't thank me.
You didn't do anything.
I like being thanked.
Welcome to the big leagues, Marge.
There's over 50 years of real-estate experience
right in this room.
And 42 of those years are Gil's.
Marge, it's a real pleasure.
You got any leads?
I need some leads. Please, help me.
That's enough, Gil.
Don't drag her down with you.
That's Cookie Kwan.
She's number one on the west side.
Hi, Marge.
Stay off the west side.
And there's Nick Callahan.
MARGE: A headset telephone?!
I thought those only existed in the movies.
Boo-ya! Guess who sold the Whitman place.
-Way to go, Nick. -(indistinct chatter)
I've been working on the Whitman place for 21 years.
And now, Marge, I'd like to welcome you to the family
with your very own red blazer.
(gasps) For me?
(all cheering)
Thank you.
Thank you, everybody.
I'm going to do my darndest to uphold the principles
and ideals this jacket represents.
I give her a week.
Are you guys talking about the west side?
No, Cookie. I swear it.
I'm scared of you.
Whoa, Dad!
Doesn't this car have seat belts?
Seat belts? Pfft!
They kill more people than they save.
That's not true. You're thinking of airbags.
There it is!
(brakes screeching)
BART AND LISA: Wow!
LISA: Your own billboard!
BART: Check it out.
HOMER: Gee, that picture makes your butt look big.
I thought so, too, but they said it sells.
Works for the lumber king.
Lumber. We need lumber.
Excuse me, Mr. Szyslak.
Have you ever considered selling your home?
What? No. Why? What? Why? What've you heard?
Are you implying I'm in some sort of financial trouble?
No.
Well, I am. Let me have that card.
(slamming)
And here we have a lovely gourmet kitchen
with gas range,
central can-opener,
and foam under-flooring for enhanced standability.
Why, isn't this kitchen horribly cramped?
(chuckling)
Why, yes, it is.
Well, I suppose we could get used to it.
Yeah, but you shouldn't have to settle.
You know, I've always loved the house you're in now.
Really?
Well, maybe we should stay put.
Thanks for your honesty, Marge.
My pleasure.
If you ever need a prescription,
no questions asked...
(clicking tongue)
(hearty chuckle)
Good shot, Barbara!
I can't believe it--
A house with a bowling alley!
Do you bowl often?
Actually, this is our first time
and I didn't really care for it.
Oh. Well, then you have to ask yourself,
is this the right house for you?
I suppose not.
I guess we were just captivated by this delightful plaque.
(hearty laughter)
(tires screeching)
(engine revving)
Hey, skinner, want to drag-race?
My high school sweetheart
was killed in a drag-racing accident.
Come on.
It'll be fun.
That's what Debbie Sue said.
(gears grinding)
Come on, you... Stupid... Car.
You... Get... Going!
(gears still grinding)
That's li'l bandit
and she's in pain!
Screw the honor system.
My car needs me.
Hey, you're ruining it for the rest of us!
Stop! That's my car!
(tires squealing)
(coughing)
(sniffing)
Hey, that smells like regular.
She needs premium, dude!
(screaming) Premium!
Dude!
Marge, I had a lot of calls about you.
Customers love your no-pressure approach.
Well, like we say,
"The right house for the right person."
Listen, it's time I let you in on a little secret, Marge.
The right house is the house that's for sale.
The right person is anyone.
But... All I did was tell the truth.
Of course you did.
But there's... The truth...
And the truth.
Let me show you.
MARGE: It's awfully small.
I'd say it's awfully... Cozy.
MARGE: That's dilapidated.
Rustic.
That house is on fire.
Motivated seller.
That's a beauty.
Forget about that house. That's the murder house.
Ooh, I remember.
Mrs. Astor was very lucky.
Well, no one expects you to sell that house
But you'd better sell something.
Because cubicles are for closers, Marge.
Anybody who doesn't sell a house
their first week gets fired.
I probably should have mentioned that earlier.
I thought I'd do anything to succeed in business,
but bending the truth, I don't know.
Ah, so you don't have that killer instinct. Big deal.
Yeah, honey. Even if you don't succeed in the business world,
you're still the world's greatest wife and mother.
(groans) So that's how you see me?
As a spineless potato-cooking housewife
who can't compete in the real world?
ALL: Mm-hmm.
Well, I can, too, compete
and I'm going to sell a house.
End of story.
Kids, your mother's under a lot of pressure.
Why don't we let her clear the table in peace?
(groans)
The first house I have to show you is, um...
A handyman's dream.
Because it's so dilapidated.
(murmurs)
Well, nothing's perfect.
I sure hate to make you come out here
and not buy a house. (chuckles)
No, slow down, Neddy.
The home-buyers course said
always look inside the house before buying.
Well, there it is.
Please don't tell anyone how I live.
Hmm... It's awfully small.
Some people would call it cozy.
I guess it is sort of cute.
But small.
Really, really small.
Hmm. Wh-when you put it that way
it does seem a bit small.
(disappointed murmur)
Well, that about does it for houses in this area...
Oh, wait. What about that house?
That has a "for sale" sign.
(suspenseful music plays)
Ooh, that's a dilly.
How about it, Marge?
(uncomfortable murmur)
NEDDY: Oh, my-diddly-i!
Will you look at this place!
(gasps)
And the price has been slashed repeatedly.
It's sure built solid.
The kids could scream bloody murder
and no one would hear.
Well, I'm just going to spill my guts.
I love it to death.
I'm going to give you a deposit this minute.
Unless you can give me a reason not to.
Is there anything else we should know, Marge?
(echoey voice) There's the truth...
And the truth.
(lady screaming) No... No!
If you don't sell a house,
you're fired, fired, fired...
(lady screaming)
Well, Marge?
No. There is absolutely nothing else
to tell you about this house.
That's good enough for me.
(screaming)
Purple drapes!
All my life I've wanted purple drapes.
(screaming)
Attention.
Ding-ding, ding-ding ding-ding.
Listen up, everybody.
Marge Simpson sold her first house.
-How about that? -How nice.
The murder house.
-Wow! Now, that's something. -Hoo-yay.
Wow, you must have told a whopper
to unload that deathtrap.
And what'd you use, Marge? Huh?
The old Buff 'n' Bluff?
The Hail Murray?
The Susquehanna Shuffle?
Huh? (clicks) Huh? (clicks) Huh?
No. No, no tricks.
It was salesmanship, that's all.
Sure, Marge.
"Salesmanship."
But it was.
Sure, Marge. "Was."
Look, just because everyone who lived in that house
was hacked to bits, doesn't mean the Flanders will be.
Guess you're right. Who cares?
Well, whatever happens
as our newest closer,
you're entitled to wear the coveted closing blazer.
(scattered applause)
And you get a third wall for your cubical.
But I earned that wall.
Don't push your luck, Pal.
You're hanging on by a thread.
Well, I brought this wall from home.
(tires screeching)
(laughs)
OK.
Baldy boy hits wire, head comes off,
l'il bandit rolls to a gentle stop.
Everybody wins.
Man, the air feels good on my neck.
Whoo! Gum ball!
Oh, why do I even bother?
(car approaching)
I told that idiot to slice my sandwich.
Oh!
Wow, honey, you sold a house
and got rid of the Flanders.
What's for dinner?
Well, neighborinos,
I guess this is goodbye.
I'd better make this quick
or I'm going to start blubbering like a baby.
Yeah, me, too.
Let me know if you need any help.
Now that you mention it, we could use...
It was just an expression.
Mm... Good-bye, Ned.
If the slightest thing goes wrong with that house,
I want you to call me right away
or you can beep me.
In fact, why don't you just stay here tonight?
We'll go to a hotel.
Oh, you're sweet to offer,
but we're all just so tired.
We just want to get to our new house
and rest in peace.
So long, Simpsons.
-Bye! -Bye.
(shuddering)
That old Flanders' place gives me the creeps.
♪ My name is Luka ♪
♪ I live ♪
♪ On the second floor... ♪
(Homer screams)
Give me my car, fatty.
(grunting)
This is my car!
And I'm not fat, it's glandular.
Right.
(grunting)
MARGE: Ooh...
You've got to tell them the truth, Marge, the truth.
Hello?
Anyone home?
(screaming)
Oh, hi, Marge.
(chuckles) Guess we gave you quite a start.
We were painting Todd's room red--
Pretty messy work--
And then we came out here to take a break.
Must have dozed off.
Red room. Red room.
Over there.
Well, I'm just glad you're OK.
(sighs)
And I have something to tell you.
(both grunting and groaning)
(tires screeching)
My head!
(grunting)
Come on, let's hear that snap.
(grunting)
You...
(grunting)
Ow.
-You're... -Ow.
-Going... -Ow.
-Down... -Ow.
Punk!
Whoa, this is so dangerous.
Yeah, you're right.
Wha... What the...
This is Wiggum reporting a 318-- waking a police officer.
(siren wailing)
(gasping)
This is the murder house?
Mm-hmm.
Oh, you mean the infamous "jealous jockey murders"?
Mm-hmm.
(gasping) Of course.
This must be where he dropped the dagger.
And this is the butler's pantry
where Mrs. Astor concealed herself
And right here's where they found the torso heap
in front of our very own fireplace.
Oh, just think, Neddy.
We're part of Springfield history.
Look, Daddy, I'm the jealous jockey.
I'm a torso.
I'm glad you're not mad,
but I lied to you
and I won't feel right
until I return your deposit.
We appreciate the offer, Marge,
but... I think we're going to be very happy here.
(all screaming)
(siren wailing)
Oh... Marge... (giggling)
Still got that deposit check?
(groaning)
Oh, wow.
Lucky thing we landed on this bubble wrap.
Hey, quit hogging.
Oh... I'm badly hurt.
A smashed hot rod?
A wrecked police cruiser?
A destroyed house?
I've had it with your renegade ways, Simpson.
-You're a loose cannon. -But I...
And what really fries me
is you returned his check!
I'm sorry, Mr. Hutz, but I just can't lie to people.
(laughing)
You're one of a kind, Marge.
And nobody deserves this more than you.
Mm...
Well, I'm proud of you, Mom.
You refused to compromise your integrity.
Yeah. You did the right thing... Eventually.
Still, it would've been nice
to bring home at least one paycheck.
Oh, you will, honey.
You will.
$300 for doing nothing?
I feel like such a crook.
Don't worry.
Gets easier every week.
(theme music playing)
-(murmuring) -Shh!
Captioned by Visual Data Media Serices