(men screaming)
(exclaiming)
(school bell ringing)
(grunts) Hey!
(theme music stops)
(theme music resumes)
(whistle blows)
(yells)
(choking) (theme music stops)
(body thuds)
(theme music resumes)
(playing the blues)
(blows wrong note, grunts) (theme music stops)
(theme songs resumes, tires screech)
(Marge screams)
(chicken clucking)
(theme music stops)
♪ ♪
Hello? Hello?
Oh, finally, I get the remote.
♪ ♪
Hmm. Hmm?
Homer, are you ever planning on putting this stuff together?
Sure, right after I watch this DVD.
(clicks tongue, groans) Just what are you watching
that's so important?
Outstanding College Mascot Fights?
S.E.C. edition.
(marching band music plays)
(blows landing)
The top-heavy mascots always lose.
Unless they're fighting something with no arms.
See? The Stanford Tree
is no match for the Tulane Green Wave.
(gasps)
There's people inside.
Marge, do you see?
(gasps) Maggie!
That's it, mister.
You're putting everything together today.
Marjorie,
isn't it a little sexist
to expect me to do all the carpentry?
Or you can take Bart to the mall to get fitted for...
(power drill running) Sorry, the drill is too loud!
I can't hear the options!
(groans)
(grunting softly)
(phonetically): "Vous avez 'termine'"?
"Vous avez 'termine'"?
"Du ar klar"?
"Du bist fertig"?
"You are 'fini-shed'"?
Oh, I am finished!
Whoo-hoo!
(grunting)
D'oh!
I'm trapped.
(worried grunting)
(high-pitched): Here, boy. Come here.
Who's a good Allen wrench?
You's a good Allen wrench.
Come here.
(sucking in)
Come on.
(choking)
(loud cough)
Huh? That isn't the same Allen wrench I swallowed.
(grunting angrily)
(line rings)
Hey, Barney, how's it going?
Fine. How are you?
I need help. Can you come right over?
Homer, you should use the Choremonkey app.
People do all your chores,
so you're free to follow your dreams.
My dream right now is beer and toilet paper.
Mr. Gumble, because I'm a decent person,
this is the last beer I'm going to bring you.
I'll just use Uburp.
(belch sound)
(cat yowling)
Stop eating me, I'm not dead yet!
(cat yowling loudly)
Choremonkey to the rescue.
Oh!
Oh, thank you.
I think this is the beginning of an unhealthy dependence.
Aw.
(Steely Dan's "Dirty Work" playing)
HOMER: ♪ I'm a fool to do my dirty work ♪
♪ Oh, yeah ♪
♪ I can hire all these nerdy jerks ♪
♪ For free ♪
♪ ♪
(music fades out)
♪ I ain't gonna do my dirty work ♪
♪ No more ♪
♪ Gonna leave my socks and dirty shirt ♪
♪ On the floor. ♪
Homie,
I don't like that the house
is full of strangers all the time.
And I-- wait, wait, why are you taking out your phone?
(gasps)
No. Don't you Choremonkey me!
Sweetie, you know I'm no good at arguments,
so I brought in a professional.
Hello, ma'am, my name's Blake,
and I'm a retired FBI hostage negotiator.
I wouldn't say this is a hostage situation.
Mm, no one said it was, ma'am.
I'm just here to listen.
So that was step one: listening.
Next, empathy.
I'm standing right here, you know.
Mm, it must be frustrating for you to hear me talk
like you're invisible.
It is. It is.
Step three: I build a rapport.
You know, I love the color scheme in your home.
I feel like you're saying that just to build a rapport with me.
Wow, that's very observant.
Very wise.
Oh, well, thank you.
(softly): Nice.
This ain't my first rodeo.
Marge, right now
I bet you wish you were just back home
in your kitchen.
I am back home in my kitchen!
Then life is good.
Am I right?
Mm-hmm. You are.
While I'm here, could I also fix your icemaker?
Yes.
Oh, yes.
Blake, I adore you.
Shh. It's over now.
Go get some rest.
Hmm.
Homer, can we throw the ball around?
Oh, um...
By "we," I mean me and your chore monkey.
(chuckling): Oh, of course! Sure, buddy.
For you I'll get one without a criminal record.
Which means I'll have to use Choremonkey Gold.
(cash register dings)
Good one, Bart. (grunts)
Wait, are you Heisman Trophy-winner Matt Leinart?
Yep, I am.
And you need this job?
Yeah, I haven't really been smart with my money
after football.
(air hisses)
But what about your broadcasting work?
Uh, sunk it all into my Thai-Irish fusion restaurant,
Shamrock Spice.
(backup sensor beeping)
On the plus side, he taught me how to throw a perfect spiral.
(grunts)
Yes!
Frozen rope, kiddo!
Aw, love you, man.
Ah, I love you.
Maybe I should play a little catch with my son now.
Whatever, Hoss, let's see what you got.
(grunts)
FLANDERS: My zinnias!
(scoffs) Annuals.
Wait, please, just let me try again.
(groans)
(coughs)
Dad, you're embarrassing me in front of Matt Leinart.
But... Wow.
You made that for me?
No, it used to be O.J.'s.
Yeah, Little Juice.
(groans) Oh, stupid Choremonkey.
Another thing I overdo bites me in the butt.
(Leinart and Bart grunting)
(Homer moaning and whining)
HOMER: Uh-oh.
You're late.
There's no specified time, sir.
And you did receive progress alerts.
Whatever, fine.
Just throw the damn ball.
So, how was your day? Pretty good.
I've thrown various balls with six different middle-aged men.
All right, stop talking, you're ruining it.
(grunts) Nice pass, sir.
For someone your age.
Ju-- This isn't fun at all.
I'm done. Fine.
You know the monkeys also rate the customers.
Now everyone will know what kind of man you are.
Good-bye, Tyler.
Jerk.
"Jerk." Bart used to call me that.
(sobbing)
Be careful, Dad.
Being careful is not going to get us
on America's Funniest Home Videos.
Now, when I nod, you pull the bottom brick out
and the wall falls on me.
Then call Vin Di Bona Productions,
then an ambulance.
Wait. Won't they know this video is fake?
Why would I be filming you making a wall?
Why didn't you bring these things up
at the production meeting?
Well, it's too late now!
Oh, great!
Dad, can I get you one of my children's Xanax?
What I need is that $10,000 prize.
Not $5,000. I already spent that on bricks.
Now pull that rope.
If I pull the rope and it kills you,
I'll need a lot of therapy.
I'm not gonna die, son.
Uh, but if I do, can you play "Nobody Does It Better"
at my funeral on the recorder?
I can't be a part of this.
Yeah, yeah, you're right.
Luann, help!
I'm in a hurry.
Well, at least I got it on video.
Delete.
(groaning): Ah, come on.
Haw-haw!
(knocking on door)
Dad, it's me.
What are you doing here? It's not pudding day.
(sighing): My son doesn't want to be with me anymore.
So you realize that's how you've treated me all these years
and you've come to apologize.
Look, Dad, I would visit more
if I hadn't put you in such a depressing place.
Whatever.
I've got a real problem here.
I'm gonna be a father again!
My girlfriend's pregnant.
(gasps) That's insane!
I leave you alone for six months and this is what happens?
How did you even meet her?
Oh, this home just got the Internet
and everyone's using senior dating sites.
Gray Date,
Friends with Social Security Benefits.
Everyone's making whoopee and hanky-panky.
A few are even having sex.
(whines)
WOMAN: You can't leave me.
We started a puzzle together.
My heart's bleeding.
Seriously.
Please call 911.
Abraham Simpson.
Are you skipping town on me?
No, no. I like you.
It's the baby I'm skipping town on.
You don't want our baby?
Before you judge me, look where my DNA leads.
I'm fine.
(grunting)
Hmm.
I think he's sweet.
Would he like to play with my keys?
I am a normal person, and yes.
All right, I'll man up.
But remember, men of my generation
don't change a diaper, attend a birth,
or talk to the child before he's drafted.
I couldn't ask for more.
(rattling)
I thought you just rolled.
Those were my knees. (rattling)
Rent six dollars?!
You can't even buy a Monopoly set for that.
(chuckles) Great commentary, Bart.
Love you, man.
I love you.
Hi, I'm Matt.
Milhouse.
I'm Bart's best friend.
Aw, sounds like someone wants an autograph.
I do.
Who are you?
I misspelled my name.
But that makes it worth more.
Come on, Leinart, get your head in the game.
Bart, I got a straight up swap.
How 'bout I give you Boardwalk and Park Place,
and you give me Ventnor?
That's crazy talk.
Oh, yeah?
What "History of Board Games" class did you take
when you were in college?
My friend, you have a deal.
You got Chance.
"Take a walk on the Boardwalk,"
which I now own, and you're bankrupt
and I win.
Wow, you beat me at every game,
even Heisman Trophy Trivial Pursuit.
Oh! Can I play Bart next?
I carry my own little top hat with me.
Oh.
Is this guy bothering you, Bart?
I'll make sure he finds the door.
(gasps)
Could you throw me out in a perfect spiral?
I can walk you out in a straight line.
Wow! No one's gonna believe that at school.
(cackles)
Huh?
"Always let him win"?
"Don't let him see this sheet"?
He called me the greatest receiver he'd ever thrown to.
Was that a lie, too?
Get out there.
Hey, Mr. Simpson.
Hey, Milk Dud.
Uh, listen, I got to go change the oil in my car.
Don't you want to get a Choremonkey?
They cut me off.
I never dreamed when I gave 'em my credit card number
that they would charge me.
You could help me out if you want.
I have an old shirt you could wear.
An old shirt! Wow!
My dad doesn't have any of those.
Wow.
Anyone ever tell you that you're excellent at gluing?
Um, no.
And your rubber cement boogers were very convincing.
Look, I know you're doing this because you have to.
How would you like it if the other team
had just let you win all the time?
That would have been really great.
(phone buzzes)
Listen, I have another Choremonkey job.
I'll see you around.
(grunts) (shouting)
(grunts)
Huh? Huh. Hmm.
Wait, I don't think a bouncer throws people into a bar.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. You just bounce, all right?
I'll tell you which way.
LEINART: Get in there.
(sputters) Ralph.
Yay! I'm a touchdown.
(Milhouse laughs)
Boop! (laughs)
Look who's a greasy guy! (laughs)
Now you're greasy, too! (laughs)
Look at you. (laughs)
Bloop, bloop.
Well, hello, Tony Stark.
We've never had fun like that in my whole life.
Oh, look! The engine block pizza is almost done.
(sizzling)
(gasps) Engine block pizza?
Car food is our thing.
Careful you don't burn your mouth.
Oh. He never warns me.
ANNOUNCER: Vijay Singh has chosen a seven iron
for his approach here
at the fifth on St Andrews.
(siren wails)
BART: My zombies have got you now.
(cackles) Mm.
What's the matter? Aren't you into the game?
Uh, yeah, yeah.
(dramatic music playing onscreen)
(groaning) (whirring)
Good luck with that zombie Bing Crosby!
B-B-Brains.
(shouting)
Eh, I won. Whoo-hoo.
Huh? Didn't seem like you were too excited
when you sliced me in half.
It's just hard when you think you're gonna be slicing
the same boy in half all your life.
Uh-huh...
Well, I guess I'd better get to work.
On a Friday?
(humming)
Why are you wearing a fishing hat?
(gasps) Are you going fishing without me?
(whimpers) What is happening with us?
If you've got something to say, just say it.
Unless it's boring.
Is there someone else?
Oh! Spare me your melodramata!
(huffing)
♪ ♪
(tires screech)
Marge, I can't have a baby.
Coordinating our sleep schedules will be a nightmare.
Plus, the only good relationship I ever had was with my hat.
Then the wind blew it away.
You didn't have a good relationship with your father?
Hmm.
(instrumental of "Turkey in the Straw" plays)
Come here, sweet pea, give me a burp.
Youse can do it.
(chortling) (burps)
Aah! Youse got milk on me!
I'll murdalize ya!
(grunts)
(sizzles)
Oh... that was before
throwin' your baby into the sun was considered child abuse.
So you see, Simpson men just don't...
Wait a minute!
(both laughing)
Now yank the hook out and throw him back because we're humane.
(growling)
I've never seen Homer and Bart so close.
Maybe I can finally be a good dad!
That's not Bart.
Don't ruin my epiphany!
♪ ♪
(sizzling) Hey, Mr. Van Houten.
Oh, hey, Bart. Milhouse isn't here. I know.
And I don't care.
Are you making envelope soup?
Envelope soup?
(chuckles) That'd be silly.
No, I'm stamp mining.
You steam off the stamp, color in the postmark,
and you just made half a dollar. Almost.
Want to try?
Careful! That's a forever stamp!
Could be worth a fortune some day.
Well done.
And look at me.
I'm hangin' out with Bart Simpson.
That's so cool.
I can't wait till Wendell sees us hangin' out.
Oh, hey.
Oh, I built it up too much.
(crickets chirping)
♪ What do you do with a drunken Homer? ♪
♪ Make him watch "Hunt for Red October" ♪
♪ Let him drive in a lunar rover ♪
♪ Tickle his nose with a... ♪
Oh, hi, Marge.
Homer, why were you fishing with Milhouse?
Because for once, I'm with a kid who respects me.
One who doesn't call me "Homer."
I didn't know that bothered you.
It does. A lot.
Oh, Homer.
Feels good when you say it.
Homer.
Ah...
Honey, maybe you should talk to Bart.
He's just behind that wall.
BART: Yeah, Homer!
Get your fat ass over here!
You see? You see?!
It's not bad enough he calls me "Homer."
He calls my buttocks "ass."
Hmm. He probably learned that at school.
You bet your ass he did.
Maybe you and Lisa can talk to him.
Lisa and I aren't speaking right now.
I can't believe you threw away my Utne Readers!
MARGE: Oh, is that how you pronounce it? Aah!
(birds singing)
For most of my child's life, I'll be gone.
When you're cremated, you feel it!
Warn everyone!
Aah.
Oh, Abe, hi.
I-I was about to call you.
I had an ultrasound today. But...
♪ ♪
Does this mean...?
Yup, I'm the father.
And I thought she was just using me for a beard.
♪ ♪ (gasps)
♪ ♪
I'm so sorry, Abe.
(sighs): Well, I just want to say...
Yes! I can't raise my left arm,
much less a child!
Yippee! Not having kids keeps you young!
Oh, I knew you'd come back!
(clears throat)
Kirk. Homer.
Dad. Fat Ass.
That is not my name!
Mm, mm, mm!
Let's roll.
Can't let 'em catch us.
♪ ♪
I can't take the pressure!
(gasps) (tires screech)
Son, I'm so sorry!
I'm getting rid of this stupid stop sign
before it hurts somebody else!
(grunts)
(tires screeching, horns honking)
I'm sorry, too, Dad.
(gasps) You called me Dad!
There's a first time for everything.
Also, a last.
Milhouse, I'd be lying if I said riding in a go-cart
with Bart Simpson wasn't the highlight of my life,
but you're my son and I love you.
I love you, too, Dad.
You're my favorite guy that Mom's brought home.
Aw...
Last one home is a rotten father!
Those aren't yours to keep!
They take them out of our pay!
HOMER: We'll bring them back when we get tired of them!
Oh, that never happens.
But, Chief, I... I don't think those vehicles
are certified for highway use.
Yeah, well, I don't think you're certified
to understand the relationship between a father and son, Lou.
Yeah, well, I have a son-- he lives in Baltimore.
What do you want, a parade, Lou?
Listen, Maggie-- can I call you Maggie?--
is there a way I can get you to put that pacifier down?
(chuckles): Oh, don't worry.
I'll be here as long as it takes.
You know, if you cooperate,
I can talk to your mother about a reduced time out.
Look, you wanted a helicopter,
I got you a helicopter.
Okay, I've got your nose, and if you want to see your nose again,
you'll give me that pacifier!
Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH
ANNOUNCER: Swing and a miss! Strike two.
Sanchez batting .269.
Fun fact: His father was one of those soccer players
who ate his teammate after a plane crashed
in the Andes.
Look at him bite at the high fastball.
Shh!