("Hark! The Herald Angels Sing" instrumental playing)
(dogs barking, sleigh bells jingling)
(grunts)
(music stops) Smithers, release the Christmas hounds.
(barking) (screaming)
(growling, barking)
("Hark! The Herald Angels Sing" resumes playing)
SINGERS: ♪ All is not well, on this noel ♪
♪ It's looking grim for Reverend Tim ♪
HELEN: ♪ This should be his very busy season ♪
SIDESHOW MEL: ♪ No one's coming, tell me what's the reason ♪
SINGERS: ♪ What will he do, pull up a pew ♪ (snoring)
(singing quiets): ♪ As we bid adieu, look for Disco Stu. ♪
Usually, the Fourth Sunday of Advent is packed.
I hope the reverend isn't losing his touch.
Comparing the Three Wise Men to the Beastie Boys
seemed more desperate than hip. I'm serious.
(groans)
Even Milhouse could've made that.
What is it, Helen?
Uh, well, Tim, just thought you should know,
a very special fan club is waiting to talk to you.
Mm!
A semi-circle? What gives?
LOVEJOY: Ned? Agnes?
Mel? The Parson?
That's right, your boss.
And I'd like to introduce you to my boss,
the Patriarch.
Actually, Parson, we all have the same boss.
The Metropolitan.
And it is his will that we come together here for...
a divine intervention.
Look, since when is it a crime
to mix Pinot Noir and Vicodin?
Oh, we don't care if you wreck your liver
with Sancerre and acetaminophen.
You can pop pain pills like cran-raisins
for all we care.
We're here 'cause you're not packing the p-p-p-pews.
The church is emptier than a syrup bottle
after a pancake breakfast.
Oh, people have reasons to miss mass.
There's flu going around, the new Jeeps
are in at the dealership.
Lot of new features, the big screen up front, where...
It's not just attendance, Reverend.
It's that sometimes when you speak, my mind wanders,
to, uh, non-religious areas.
(metallic creaking)
Timothy, admit it. You're in a slump.
How many souls have you personally converted
to our faith this year?
Negative six.
You have some converting to do.
(moaning)
I haven't been heard from!
And what do you have to say?
Nothing!
Just pointing it out.
Okay, I can do this.
I'm a good man.
And Springfield is nothing if not a good Christian community.
♪ ♪
(cries out)
(laughing)
(grumbles) I'm worried about this festival.
It's like something you'd see in a college town. (grunting)
BART: Come on, Mom,
get with the pagan agenda.
Ha. This doggy likes me.
Don't worry, Ralphie, I'll shoot you off of there.
Uh-oh.
Come on guys, let's go check out
this year's feature attraction:
the Strandbeest.
Powered by the wind!
Wow. Uh...
Is this science,
or garbage?
Dutch art. Ooh!
And I'll bet it's environmentally conscious.
No. It is not.
(onlookers murmuring)
Whoa. It's alive!
(excited murmuring)
Hmm. The wind is picking up slightly.
This is a disaster!
The Beest is built for the polite breezes of Europe.
(panicked shouting)
Save me, Odin. (grunts)
(screaming)
Look, Dad, I can skate backwards!
Great, Sophie! Just watch out for Strandbeests!
(laughter)
(shocked gasps)
(screaming)
(stammering grunts)
(grunting)
(screams)
(grunting)
What the...?
(grunting)
Okay, I got to warn ya.
Regular morphine doesn't work on me anymore.
Call this number and they'll send the stuff I need.
It'll say "for elephants," but ignore that.
(groans)
Sorry about this, Sophie.
Couldn't have come at a worse time.
I only get one week of custody, once a year.
It's okay, Dad. We'll get to know each other
in this semi-private room.
Oh, I'll give you all the privacy you need.
Ah... (flat lines)
(screams): Harold?
Private room!
Mm-hmm.
Uh... So,
uh, how's your act coming along?
I'm not in show business.
What kind of a screwed-up kid are you?
I'm not screwed up. I get good grades.
I play the French horn.
Good, good.
You know, it's funny when someone's playing it
and their pants fall down.
(chuckles) I haven't had that happen.
Well, don't feel bad.
It's actually a pretty complicated rig.
The whole megillah is a big tzimmes.
Tzimmes? Megillah?
It's Yiddish.
The language of our fakakta people.
Mom raised me Christian.
A Christian?
(spits) (groans)
That farbissina shiksa.
How can you ignore the sacred traditions
of the Jewish people?
Krusty, here's your bacon, lobster and tref sandwich.
Hey, it was supposed to come with a side of camel.
Extra cloven.
Dad, you don't have to be sort of funny with me.
The thing is, I want to celebrate this time with you.
Sweetie, I know you're reaching out.
But to me, Christmas is just another day.
I usually curl up with a good bookmaker, and...
Well...
Why don't the two of you spend Christmas with us?
Our home isn't fancy, but we'd love to set a place
for two more.
Marge, we accept.
Can we bring anything?
Just yourself.
That'll cost you.
(singsongy): Oh, Maggie.
Guess who just came down the chimney?
A magical holiday friend,
straight from the North Pole.
He's called the Gnome In Your Home, and he works for Santa,
by watching you all the time.
According to a book sold separately,
the Gnome In Your Home doesn't need food or sleep.
He lives for just one thing:
to tell Santa if you're bad or good.
(sucking pacifier rapidly)
He's gonna live here on your shelf,
and he never shuts his eyes.
Isn't that cute?
You'd better be good,
or he'll nibble your wittle fingers!
(sucking pacifier rapidly)
(playing "O Tannenbaum" on piano)
(doorbell rings)
Oh, boy, Krusty's here!
A very merry Christmas,
from the bottom of my heart.
(calling): Did you get the shot?
How did it play? Was I too sincere?
Perfect, Mr. K!
Start laying dolly track.
("Jingle Bells" playing)
(doorbell rings)
Come on, damn it!
Christmas is about one thing:
being with family.
Sophie, come sit on Daddy's lap.
I don't want to be on camera.
Fine, we'll just motion-capture her in later.
(screeching)
Aww, that's my girl.
Oh, what a beautiful gingerbread house.
Wish I could make one.
And I can! On a multi-function Minolta printer.
Print, scan, copy,
let Minolta do your Xeroxing!
"...when what to my wondering yes did appear..."
To hear me read the rest of this poem,
dial 1-900-OLD-POEM.
$9.95 per call.
All I wanted was to spend the holidays with you
so we could learn more about each other.
Well, I learned!
Get out!
(crying) What? Seriously?
You really want me to go?
Yes.
Right now.
(doorbell rings)
Uh, can we get some room tone?
Just 20 seconds.
Oh, Sophie! Please, forgive me.
I canceled the show.
I'm pulling up duct tape myself,
like a caveman! (grunting)
SOPHIE (crying): Just leave me alone.
If the Word of God isn't enough,
I also have some rubber jar openers.
(groans) I've been directing Christmas pageants for 30 years.
There's no way there's a God.
Forget it. Our nonsense is so much better than your nonsense.
Look at this guy! He can be a Pixar hero.
Look at him!
No, maybe I'm just not cut out
for the God game.
Maybe I could teach S.A.T. Prep.
At least there are answers in the back of that book.
(grunts)
(cries) What kind of poison do you serve to a guy
whose daughter hates his guts?
Yeah. Try a Duff Numb. No flavor, just alcohol.
(gulps)
I need something that makes me feel better in my heart.
Like firing a writer.
Especially one who just bought a house.
Mm...
(cash register dings)
My son, I'm here to guide you to the most powerful man
in this world, or any other.
J.J. Abrams?
No. Jesus.
He is reaching his arms out to you.
Oh, my God.
I can see him.
I am a Christian!
(angelic voices singing)
(stun gun crackling)
Uh, Chief, I think you got him.
Yeah, it's Christmas. (chuckles)
Just bang his head on the car door
and we'll call it a day.
Merry Christmas. (crackling)
Good night, sweet Maggie.
Mwah.
Why are you huddling over there?
The gnome can't see you.
I'll move your crib closer.
(grunting)
There.
(clock ticking)
Oh, sorry, I forgot your nightlight.
(in baby voice): The gnome can't nibble your fingers
if he can't see them.
(Psycho type violin stings)
LISA: Hey, Maggie.
I thought I'd try the violin.
(Psycho type violin stings)
(wind whistling)
(object falls)
(wind whistling)
(terrified sucking)
I've got a tummy ache.
Maybe I ate too much before bedtime.
Have you been a bad baby?
Oh.
Don't lie to me...
or Christmas morning will never come!
(cackles evilly)
("Jingle Bells" slowly plays in minor key)
(laughing)
(yells)
Oh, don't worry, Maggie.
He can't beat the super team of Santa, Jack Frost,
the Abominable Snowman and Wayne Gretzky.
He's got a gun.
Merry Christmas, Maggie!
Was Maggie a good little girl?
She was?!
Well, you did such a good job, Mr. Gnome,
that we're gonna leave you here
all year round.
("Joy to the World" instrumental playing)
"...which they also did and sent to the elders
by the hands of Barnabas and Saul."
Now, I'd like to introduce
our newest brother in faith:
Krusty the Christian.
♪ Amazing grace ♪
♪ How sweet the sound ♪
♪ That saved a putz ♪
♪ Like me. ♪
Aw, I remember the day she came into my life.
Oh, here's a present for Maggie.
And the good news is, Spycraft Toys makes
other invasive dolls: Narc In The Park,
Bear Who's Always There
and Snoop While You Poop.
Won't that be fun?
So much fun. (slurps)
Oh, now sweetie, that's a present for your mother.
(chuckles) Another Christmas in the bag.
I love my juicer.
And don't worry, Marge, I'm adding fruit.
You know,
I might have one more present for you.
(groans in surprise)
(chuckles excitedly)
(both scream)
(scared stammering)
What is it?
What is it?!
HOMER: What the...?!
(panting)
(drumroll)
Welcome to the Krusty the Clown Sober Contemplation Hour.
(cymbals crash) Pray, pray, kids.
We've got a very uplifting show today.
He is risen.
And now please silently reflect
upon the wholesome new teachings of Itchy and Scratchy.
♪ They pray, they pray ♪
♪ They pray and they don't slay ♪
♪ Pray, pray, pray, they found a way ♪
♪ The pious mouse and cat. ♪
"They shall beat their swords
into plowshares."
I think it's about time we put on some clothes.
(both grunting)
And then this happened.
Wow, Dad, you wrecked your entire show
just to prove you love me.
Wait a minute, wait a minute.
Here comes a cream pie.
(pennywhistle plays)
(Krusty chuckles softly) (Bart groans)
Coming up next, we've got some hilarious comedians.
Finally.
Andrew Nice Clay,
Larry the Fable Guy
and Joe Piscopalian.
Oh, if he was gonna convert,
why didn't he pick a funny religion?
Like Zoroastrianism.
Their top god is named Mazda.
Tell me that's not hilarious.
(groans)
And now the moment you've been waiting for...
The nature of the universe is we are forced to wait
for every moment.
As Mazda teaches us...
Shh!
My daughter will play
the French horn
and no one's pants will drop.
(plays upbeat melody)
I guess this will just be for me.
Well, look at you, all cool and collected.
Oh, well, even the Lord rested on Sunday.
But Krusty's not ours till he's b-b-b-baptized.
You have to get his soul and his bank router number on autopay.
Oh, he wanted to do it the old-fashioned way,
in the river with Miss Teenage Nevada,
but the river's frozen.
I have to wait until the ice melts.
Mm-mm-mm.
I had you pegged for a closer, Tim.
You know, Ogdenville is looking
for a prison chaplain.
(laughing): The last one, well...
he got a very cool tattoo...
that he didn't ask for.
(Helen gasps, glass shatters, mouse squeaks)
♪ Gather with the saints ♪
♪ At the river ♪
♪ That flows by the throne of God ♪
(squeaky-voice): ♪ Throne of God. ♪
Will the baptismal candidate please approach?
(laughing) (grunting)
You're sure you want to do this, Dad?
Seems kind of meshugana.
I want to be a total Christian for you, babe,
so I'm gonna shpritz my tuchis...
Be careful of the current.
Don't worry, I haven't been current in years.
(laughs boisterously)
(groans)
(laughter)
(laughter continues)
Huh? Huh? Oh.
Oh, great, my death is a hacky parody of Frozen.
Dad? But who's the moose?
I'm your first agent.
Oh, this is the most we've ever spoken.
(phone rings)
(groans)
I must be dead.
You're not dead yet.
Listen, I should know because I am.
And life was no picnic, but let me tell you,
death is no picnic, either.
Your biggest mistake is expecting picnics.
Dad!
Oh, I suppose you're not happy
that I'm converting.
Herschel, your heart just stopped
so I'll make this very quick.
There's no one religion that makes you a good father.
All you got to do is think of your children
before yourself, that's all...
except with those oxygen masks that you get on the planes.
There it's vice-a-versa.
Well, I guess you would know.
You're a rabbi who's seen the face of God.
Actually, I'm a hallucination caused by cell death
in your suffocating brain.
Also, I saw you texting during my funeral.
For shame! (cries out)
Oh, reel him in.
You've caught a drowning man!
Slow down.
First I'm gonna play him a little.
"I shall be a fisher of men."
(ice breaking)
I'm alive!
Oh, ho!
Don't tell my ex-wife.
(whooping and cheering)
Lovejoy is a hero!
Finally something I can explain!
SINGERS: ♪ All ended well except for Sideshow Mel ♪
♪ This Jewish clown, he didn't drown ♪
♪ Reconciled with his daughter ♪
♪ When he got out of the water ♪
♪ Here's the good news, butts in the pews ♪
♪ Watch Homer snooze as he still chews ♪
♪ Our show is almost done ♪
♪ Maggie didn't stop ♪
♪ At one. ♪
Sorry about Krusty, but he's still
on Team Hanukkah.
Um, I hate to win on a technicality,
but he was under the water.
That's a baptism.
Maybe we should ask Mazda?
I'm not going to ask him anything, he's drunk.
(slurring): Oh, and like you're not!
(slurping)
♪ ♪
♪ Just hear those sleigh bells jingling ♪
♪ Ring-ting-tingling along ♪
♪ Let's sing a jolly holiday non-denominational song ♪
♪ Being pulled through the snow ♪
♪ To our wintertime feast ♪
♪ By a PVC beast ♪
♪ My Web site traffic just increased ♪
♪ Best get you home to your mother ♪
♪ Or she'll call a lawyer or two ♪
♪ There's nothing better ♪
♪ Than spending alternate weekends ♪
♪ With you. ♪
Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH
Shh!
(squeaky-voice): ♪ Throne of God. ♪