D'oh!
(grunts)
Mom, can I get the... No!
But it's only... No!
(traditional Japanese music plays)
(giggling)
(whirring)
Aah!
ALL: Ooh...
MAN: Yo, your car is ready!
1986 Plymouth Junkerola.
Pink Plymouth! Yo!
Whoa! Baby is still in the back seat.
Mine!
(humming)
(gasps) Oh.
(laughs)
Comedy can be so surprising.
The Japanese Warrior Monks' Guide to Tidying Up?
Ooh, a bestseller!
And no one goes to Heaven.
Marge, you don't buy books at a car wash.
Ooh, sushi!
Okay, I read this whole book while your father
was hospitalized for food poisoning,
and it changed my life.
I want this house to reach what the monks call
the "state of en-tidy-ment."
En-tidy-ment? I thought this family meeting
was about reducing the carbon footprint
of my college fund. Done and done.
Wait, wait. Why is it so easy?
Moving on. Oh, man!
I thought your mother was gonna tell us that Grampa died.
Well, the meeting ain't over yet.
The monks' philosophy is simple.
Take every item you own and ask: does it still bring me joy?
If yes, then you keep it.
If not, you thank it for its service
and throw it away. HOMER: Boring!
Does this beverage coaster give me joy?
Not anymore. (grunts)
Not my "Oh, crap, I'm 50" coaster!
You're not 50, and I don't like the word "crap."
And I worry you drink too much beer.
But the rest of it's good, right?
That's all there is to it.
Marge, before you go cuckoo with cleanliness
and throw everything out, think of the kids.
The kids working in overseas factories
to make this crap.
It's time for it to go.
Coaster, thank you for your service.
Nyeh! No one ever thanked me
when I was in the service.
All I got was a pack of cigarettes
and a college education!
Speaking of college education...
Meeting adjourned! Oh, man.
BART: Let's see.
Car door handles,
a telescope and a hose.
Did this junk bring me joy?
Why did I wear Mother's blouse today?
(muffled clinking)
Ha-ha-ho! Thank you, Galileo.
Good-bye, Businesswoman Malibu Stacy,
Plus-Size Malibu Stacy,
and Nongender-Normative Malibu Stacy.
Your attempts to enter the 21st century brought joy to no one.
Are they worth anything?
Oh, I'm afraid not, no.
Take 'em.
Aha!
All right, because up until now I've been such a great guy.
You don't want to get rid of this fake barf?
Still gives me joy.
This pencil sharpener shaped like a nose?
That's what it is? Now I like it even more!
Is there anything you want to get rid of?
Hmm, let's see.
Joy, joy, joy,
joy, joy, joy, joy...
Milhouse, get out of the way.
Joy, joy, joy, joy, joy,
and Lisa's only "B." Super joy.
Huh! It's in phys ed!
I don't want to alarm you, but grade point average:
3.999999999...
(screaming)
(humming happily)
Listen, Marge, you've had me throw a lot of things away
that I really loved.
At long last, I'm Mr. Plow!
I was thinking we might want to save my 2014 Joke-A-Day calendar,
'cause the calendar's the same in the year 2031,
and we're really gonna need some laughs then
after World War China.
There is one thing of yours
that's not giving us much joy anymore.
(quietly): You know what's not giving me joy
is that Japanese book.
What'd you say? Nothing.
What I'm talking about is... Plopper.
(gasps) Spider-Pig?
♪ Spider-Pig, Spider-Pig ♪
♪ Does whatever ♪
♪ A Spider-Pig does... ♪
We've had him since you found him,
but I'm the only one who takes care of him.
How hard can it be to clean up after a pig?
(grunts)
Okay, okay, I hear you, Marge.
Look, I'm the only one who feeds him, cleans him, and maintains his wallow.
I am grateful beyond words.
I bet you didn't even know it was called a wallow.
I certainly did! Then tell me what it's called.
What what was called?
The word I just said.
Marge, I don't know what the word is.
Let's not wallow in this all day.
(groans) Please, just promise
you'll find him a new place to live.
(Plopper grunting)
(chuckles): Aw, ha-ha-ha.
That's a Christmas card!
(grunting, squealing)
The music of our lives.
If you don't find a home for that pig,
I'm going to withhold... No, whatever you're going to withhold--
anything but that!
I'll find him a home!
Boy, I really don't want to get rid of the pig.
Can you talk to your mother?
We have a pig? Oh, it's hopeless.
You know, I love this animal,
so I'm gonna be very selective with his new owner.
Okay. World's best pig,
Non-smoker only.
By which I mean he can't end up in your smoker.
(electronic ding)
Wow, I've already got a taker.
Well, I'm sure he's a nice, reputable guy.
(rock music playing)
Hello there.
Are you here for my pig?
I might be. I have to make sure the bacon
is worth the takin'. You better not eat him!
I have to talk to him every night on the phone.
We have a code word. Um, is it "oink"?
Damn it! I'm not giving him to you!
You make guys with a windowless van look bad!
Need a ride?
Sure.
Hey, how you doing?
(rock music playing) HOMER: So, what do you do?
Oh my God!
(Plopper squeals)
A decluttered life is a happy life.
A decluttered life is a h... (gasps)
Joyce Carol Oates!
(gasps) Oh, no!
I threw out my autograph book!
Are you nuts? You had Dean Cain!
I know I had Dean Cain!
Dad, maybe she'll sign a menu.
Books and checks-- that's all I sign.
What are you doin'?
You keep-a that unsliced prosciutto outside my restaurant!
Wait. How come he can bring a dog in,
but my pig has to stay outside, like a common snowman?
Because that-a dog is a therapy animal.
He's-a licensed to help calm those with anxiety.
Don't lick my face-- the makeup's lead-based.
But for calming down, I prefer my mama's methods.
Shut up!
She don't even-a work here.
So if I get that anxiety diagnosis,
Plopper could follow me anywhere.
He could live in my office!
Hey, what are the symptoms of anxiety?
Oh, no, don't try that, Dad. You might get into trouble.
Just the thought of it is making me sweat.
And my heart is palpitating.
Lisa, honey, Daddy will help you,
right after you tell me the symptoms of anxiety.
(gasping): You're... looking at them!
Oh, honey, I'm so sorry.
It's okay. It's... I know.
I'm better now. It's gonna be okay.
It's okay. I'm better now. All right, calm down.
Ooh. Heart's racing like a rabbit.
I have to sit down.
Oh, isn't that-a sweet?
All the little children have-a the adult anxiety now.
Uh, yeah, I'm really anxious, Doc.
I'm not sleeping at night, I'm not sleeping at work...
Okay, okay, I get it.
Here's your prescription for medicinal marijuana.
I don't want weed!
I'd like a letter for a therapy animal
of the pig persuasion.
Oh, you fakers disgust me!
Get out! You're harshing my clinic.
How many opioids would you like?
I don't want any!
Oh, come on, you've got to be dependent on something.
I just want a prescription for a therapy pig.
Fine. Plus five opioids.
Uno, dos, tres, cuatro, cinco.
And one for the doctor.
Ah, ha.
Gee, I didn't realize
you had gone this far.
A great musician only needs her instrument.
And underwear-- 'cause this dress is mighty short.
Time for a riff of joy.
(playing mournful melody)
Uh? Holding this, I feel only hours of tedious practice.
Where is the joy?
(playing mournful melody)
That was beautiful, honey!
No, it wasn't.
I finally feel about my sax...
the way you all do.
(long, deep gasp)
(long, squealing gasp)
Okay, Plopper, I'm going to the little pigs' room.
Can you cover for me?
Good, good. Not that many mistakes at all.
(alarm blaring)
(alarm stops)
Okay, is that Homer or a pig that looks just like him?
(snorting, squealing)
Sounds like Homer, but smells like truffles.
Toss in a bag of chips.
(snorting, squealing)
Yep, that's Homer.
Who's Homer? The pig behind the desk.
To a less secure man, being mistaken for a pig
would be a wakeup call.
This is great. All I had to do was say I'm crazy
on my permanent record, and I get to bring a pig to work.
Yeah, they are pretty lax here. That's right.
I got turned down by McDonald's, but, here,
they paid me the whole year I was in jail.
You said you were getting rid of him.
Marge, I'll take him to work and to Moe's.
He'll be like me-- you'll barely see him.
(sighs) Fine.
(clinking)
This is so hard for me to say,
but my saxophone no longer gives me joy.
I am giving it away.
Aw, that is really, really sad.
Wow, you understand how I feel.
Yes, because I feel about my pig
the way you used to feel about your honk-a-ma-flute.
Okay, back to what really matters.
So, I get the ball and I pivot to first...
(grunts) Ooh! Oh... Oh, my God! (stammers)
I'm so sorry, Dad! Accidents happen.
Wow, Homie. Spilled gravy
is one of your top three strangulation triggers.
I could never strangle a boy...
in front of the pig.
Huh. I think he really has become a support animal for you.
He's totally changed the way I look at animals.
Pass the pork chops.
(chuckles) Everybody's looking at us.
It's like bringing Elizabeth Taylor to the Oscars.
(sighs)
Can I pet your pig?
Of course! You can all pet him!
Kiss both ends. Homie, those kids' hands
are covered in barbeque sauce.
I know someone who's gonna get a sink bath tonight.
(children laughing)
(barking)
(growls)
(barking)
No! Get away from him!
I'll spray you! Dad, no!
That's a snake from the petting zoo!
(hissing) (gasps)
(screaming) (gasps)
(barking)
(growling)
(panting) Oh, my God!
(panting)
I can't breathe. Chest pounding.
What's happening to me?! You're having an anxiety attack.
There really is such a thing?!
Oh, the dogs contused his baby back ribs.
Of course, there is the luau option.
I will not subject him to something
that has three vowels in a row.
Uh, sir, I'm kind of worried about a lawsuit.
Our Lloyd's of London policy excludes the hounds.
Ooh! Damn that Lloyd. He's borne a grudge
ever since I took his girl to see Lunardi's balloon.
What are you talking about?
I'm not sure myself.
But don't worry, I'll have your swine taken care of
right here in the finest sanatorium money can buy.
HOMER: What the...
Maybe he should go to an animal hospital.
Oh, we'll take good care of Spider-Pig.
(gasps) You know his secret identity?
Mm-hmm. And your son is El Barto.
These things are very easy to figure out.
We'll take good care of him!
I'm worried, Marge.
His tail is all curly.
It's always been curly.
No, you're thinking of Bart when he was a baby.
But this is no time to argue.
He'll be fine. This place seems even nicer than the Mayo Clinic.
Mayo Clinic, eh?
Should we slice him diagonally or just cut off the crust?
Who cares? It's hopeless. You fools.
I'll save him like I've saved a million lunches!
(pop)
(screaming)
(exhales) It gets harder every time.
Mmm.
You were imagining a clinic full of mayonnaise doctors,
weren't you? Some were just interns.
Whoa!
What happened to your stuff?
Gave it all away. Nothing brings me joy.
Lis, for what it's worth, there was a time
I thought my life was horrible, too. Really?
Basically, it was when you were born.
(scoffs) Thanks. I'm all cheered up.
But I got over it.
And your older, smarter brother is going to help you.
Let's put our heads together.
(clicking like gears)
Wow. This actually is making me smarter.
And next week, we will have the MRT,
Mandatory Required Test.
Students must bring two pencils and a quiet lunch.
BART: This is WJZZ, Springfield Elementary's
pirate jazz station.
Good Lord, how is he overpowering my P.A. system?
We are preempting these lame-o school announcements
with an original composition from Lisa Simpson.
Warning, this may cancel math.
(cheering)
(jazz playing)
It sounds like how paste tastes.
♪ ♪
You did it, Bart!
You brought back my joy.
(grunts) (grunts) Hey!
I wouldn't have done it if I knew there was a hug at the end.
(grunting) Hold that thought.
School is canceled for the rest of the day.
I do have a lot of errands to run.
There. Good as new.
I also took the liberty of putting
a pop-up thermometer in him, just in case.
Excellent. Now, Doctor, the matter of your bill...
It's on me. I always enjoy the chance
to get my hands inside a pig.
Good day.
(dreamy waltz playing)
Oh, my God.
This reminds me of a golden moment
with my beloved, ruthless papa.
♪ ♪
Yale wins! And only three killed!
From this day hence, this beautiful creature
will be my faithful companion.
I-I thought I was your faithful companion.
A man can have two faithful companions.
But one is always his favorite.
("Gertrude's Dream Waltz" by Beethoven playing)
(doorbell ringing)
You've stolen my therapy animal.
Now I have to control my own emotions.
Well, he's still too ill to travel.
(classical music playing)
Now what's wrong?
My joy's returned, but my sax is gone.
(sniffles) I just want my passion back.
Come with me. Is it related?
Yes.
(dog howls)
The Japanese may have tidiness,
but, in America, we have storage lockers,
our only growth industry.
Look.
Oh, my God! You kept all our stuff!
Well, I couldn't throw anything out.
I wanted to be tidy, but I could only shift.
(chuckles) Hello, old friend!
(playing jazzy tune)
Hey! Could you keep it down?
Some of us are trying to throw a wedding in here!
Go ahead, Reverend. Start at "Dearly beloved."
♪ ♪
(lock clicking)
(light tapping)
(quietly): Plopper, meet me at the side door,
the one on the east wing by the greenhouse.
Take the elevator to Floor 2-R.
Not 2. 2-R.
That'll put you in the map room.
Take the second set of stairs.
Repeat, second set of stairs...
Well, finally.
(barking)
Ah!
Heel!
I, uh, know what it's like to have true love thwarted.
(groans) Just take your pig and go
before the old man realizes what's what.
What's what? Go!
♪ And I... ♪
♪ Will always love you ♪
♪ I will always ♪
♪ Love you ♪
♪ I will always ♪
♪ Love you ♪
♪ I will always ♪
♪ Love you... ♪
Marge, he brings me joy.
And to keep him, I'll give up beer.
Deal. Uh-oh.
(E.R. theme playing)
Fruit?! What a nightmare!
("Gertrude's Dream Waltz" by Beethoven playing)
Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH
(dreamy waltz playing)
(pig squeals quietly)