(Bell rings) (Whistle blows) (Plays the blues) (Screams) Do you two have to sit so close? Back up or the TV will hurt your eyes. It will not. Oh, yes, it will. Our next movie is McBain, another shoot-em-up, push-them-through-the-window splatterfest from the Hollywood Cookie Cutter. Here's a typically brainless scene. Senator Mendoza is one of our most respected citizens, McBain, yet you ran his limo off a cliff, broke his bodyguards' necks and drove a bus through his front door? We have proof that he's head of an drug cartel. I don't want to hear it! You're out of here! (Screams) That makes two of us. All right, McBain! "That makes two of us..." (Grumbles) We're talking about the same movie? I thought McBain was a non-stop roller coaster of chills, thrills, spills and kills. And that chase at the end, my friend? That movie stinks like your one-bedroom apartment. Your mother didn't think so. My mother. Real mature. Homer: I love watching the bald guy argue with the fat tub of lard. Hey! What gives? Dad, do something! All right, all right. Time for Dr TV to perform a little surgery. Looks like you lost a patient, doc. Shut up, boy. Cheap Chinese TV. Why did I ever buy it? Better? both: No! - How's this? - (Both scream) Oh, no. OK. Everybody remain calm. (Both scream) If you look real close, you can kind of make them out. Hey, yeah. Yeah, I think I can. I think this is sick. You're staring at a dot! She's right! She's right! (Sobs) Oh, how I miss TV! Dear God, just give me one channel! Homer, it's not the end of the world. You know, before we got married, we hardly ever watched television. - You lie. - Bart! It's true, Bart. We used to shoot pool and go dancing. How romantic. A lot of times we'd talk just like this. I'm living it, but I ain't loving it. It's hard to picture you two, hand in hand, at the crossroads of life. There's so many questions. Pick one. OK. Uh... how did dad propose to you? Oh, well... Well, uh Miss Bouvier, we've found the reason why you've been throwing up in the morning. Congratulations. - D-ohhh! - Oh... Lisa, I'd rather tell you a different story ` how your father and I first met and fell in love. We were seniors in high school but we had never even met. # Why do birds suddenly appear... # Ugh. Gross. # Some people call me a space cowboy # Yeah # Some call me the gangster of love # Some people call me Maurice. # Whoo! Whoo! # As I speak of the pompitous of love... Hey, Homer, you're late for English. Homer: Who needs that? I'm never going to England. Let's go smoke. Marge: I'm for equal rights but do we need a whole amendment? Don't you deserve to earn as much as a man who does the same job? Not if I have to do heavy lifting or math. Oh, Marge. You really ought to read this. (Sniffs) Oh, the shop kids are smoking again. (Inhales) (Coughs) (Bell rings) We're late for wood shop. But we're early for lunch. Let's grab a burger. Boy, you never stop eating, and you don't gain a pound. It's my metaba-molism. I'm just one of the lucky ones. Well, well, well. If it isn't Homer Simpson and Barney Gumble, Springfield's answer to Cheech and Chong. Allow me. You've just bought yourselves three days of detention. You know where and when. Both: 3:00, old building, room 106. Marge: In another article, I found out that to hire professionals to do all the jobs of a housewife-- who, incidentally, is not married to a house-- would cost $48,000 a year. Right on, sister! The first step is to free ourselves from these male-imposed shackles. (Cheering) I didn't think it would burn so fast. I guess it's the tissue paper inside. Miss Bouvier, I am surprised. You just bought yourself one day of detention. You know where and when. Well, no, I don't. I've never` 3:00, old building, room 106. (Whistles) Hi, Estelle? Will you go to the prom with me? I wouldn't go with you if you were Elliott Gould. Oh, shot down again. Hey, don't worry, Barney. There's got to be a girl nobody else will take to the prom. Excuse me, is this room 106? Hey, who's that? I... I don't know. # Why do birds suddenly appear # every time you are near? # # Just like me. # They long to be... # Oh. Hi. Would you like to go..? She's mine. # ...close to you. # Finally, the kitchen. Something light. Like... Okarito. Okarito. Goes well with Alexandra. Oh, look. Whoa, pink. Or... Hot Water Beach. Very relaxing. Pinky, blue. It's not very kitchen-y. But it is pretty... nursery. Hmm. Nursery? Or we could go Rangitikei River. (GASPS) Oh! (LAUGHS) You little beauty! So, the nursery. * So, what are you in for? I'm a political prisoner. Last time I take a stand. I'm here for being me. Every day I act like me and they slap me in here. Simpson, be quiet. I haven't seen you in school before. - OK, Simpson. - What? - Another day of detention. - Maybe we should get together... - Two days. I don't even know your name. - I'm Homer... - Three days! - ...J... - Four days! - ...Simpson. - Five days! - It was worth it! - Six days! OK, Simpson, to the back of the room. It was love at first sight. A jailhouse romance. I reached step one-- she knew I existed. The only problem was she didn't care. What's the matter, boy? Homer: Nothing. You haven't said poo all night, and usually I wrestle the bucket out of your greasy mitts. Dad, I'm in love. Uh-oh. Grab yourself a beer. - But I don't drink. - Cut the crap. "I just collect the cans, Daddy." Grab yourself a beer and get me one too. - This girlfriend-- is she a looker? - Uh... - A lot on the ball? Oh, yeah. Oh, son, don't overreach. Go for the dented car, the dead-end job, the less attractive girl. Oh, well, I blame myself. We should have talked long ago. Thanks, Pop. A-B-C-D-E-F-G-H-I-K-K... Oh, M. M-O-N-O-M-P-S... Hi, I'm Homer Simpson. I need guidance, Counsellor. Okey-dokey. Good Lord. You should have come by a long time ago. I just met Marge Bouvier and I want to force her to like me. That's not the type of guidance I give. I like to think I do something helpful for every student "N" through "Z." The only advice I can give is share common interests and spend, spend, spend. What interests of hers could I make common? She's very active on the forensics team. - They meet in the new building. - Far out! Homer, do you have plans for after graduation? Me? I'm going to drink a lot of beer and stay out all night. Oh, no, I meant career-wise. That nuclear power plant will be opening soon. It's one place that won't require a college education. Me? In a nuclear power plant? (laughs) Kaboom! But bringing up a son-- even a blind one-- isn't a lifetime occupation. Now the more you help him, the more you hurt him. Lo unto Shelbyville should they underestimate our strength in dramatic interpretation. Thank you, Artie. My name's Homer. I'd like to sign up for something. There's the debate team. Debate? Like arguing? Yes. I'll take that, you stinkpot! Just warming up. This year's topic is 'Resolved: the national speed limit should be lowered to 55 miles per hour.' 55? That's ridiculous. Sure, that will save a few lives but millions will be late. Why don't you take con. (AVERAGE WHITE BAND'S 'PICK UP THE PIECES' PLAYS) No way. Our current speed limit is an anachronism. - Ignoramus. - Will you shut up? - That word you keep calling me. - Ignoramus? Ignoramus. It means I'm stupid! There is a difference between ignorance and stupidity. Not to me there isn't, you... - Homer. - ...ignoramus. - You're the ignoramus. - You are! Would you present your rebuttal? With pleasure. (All gasp) - Ay, caramba! - (Marge groans) Hello. Hello. You may not remember me. I'm Homer Simpson. I mooned for rebuttal. Yes, I remember. So, you want to go out with me? Well, I, uh... I don't think you're my type. Well, you see ` the problem is you don't know me. I have references. Just ask Coach Flanagan. And ask Mr Sakofsky and Barney Gumble. I don't know. I'm not asking you to like me or put yourself in a position where I can touch your goodies. I'm asking you to be fair. Homer Simpson? Oh, yeah. Junior varsity shot-putter. I think if he applies himself, trains real hard, hits the weights, he could go another foot. I had him for four years. Solid "C" student. Made a lamp last year. He's all things to all men and maybe to one lucky gal. Want to go to the prom with me? Good God, no! Well put. What's the good word? - I'm sorry. - What? You seem like a nice guy, - but I don't have time. - What? And the city forensics championship is coming up. - Yeah, so? - And I tutor part-time. - You tutor? - Yes. - Anyone can be tooted? Just those who need help with French. - French. - Mm-hmm. - What a coincidence. Just the subject I'm having trouble with. (Giggles) Why, you cagey old dog. Great story. Positively spellbinding. Work, damn you! Bart! Pay attention. You may be telling this to your own son one day if something breaks. (Hums) Ooh, lost a few. There's plenty more where that came from. Uh-oh, a zit. No problemo. The perfect crime. # Don't be a baby, lady. # Just be a lady, baby. # All I ask is one thing, baby. # (Doorbell rings) Hello. Why is there make-out music on? It helps me study. Well, not me. Shut it off and let's get down to business. (Music stops) Crayon. Bien. Fen... etre. Bien. Femme. Tres bien. Well, I should go. I have a big forensics meet tomorrow. Wait, wait, wait. Don't go, don't go. Why don't we take a little study break? Both: # Do the hustle... # Mr Simpson: Keep it down! Homer, you're amazing. Before you couldn't say bonjour, but now you can conjugate all regular verbs, two irregular verbs and sing the first verse of "Alouette." # Alouette, gentil Alouette, Alouette, je te plumerai. # Bien. I can't believe it. It's sticking. You're telling me new stuff and minutes later, it's still there. And it's all thanks to you. When I see you forming vowels and continents... Consonants. ...consonants with your beautiful mouth and your beautiful breath pushing them past your beautiful teeth... (chuckles) Merci, I guess. Marge... would you go to the prom with me? You know, Homer, you're like no one I've ever met before. You're dear, honest and open without a trace of pretension. I'll take that as a compliment. Will you go? Please say oui. Oui. Whoo! Marge! This will be the greatest night of your life. I've been saving for a engine for my car, but I'm spending it on us. I'm renting the biggest limo, buying you the biggest corsage. It'll have the widest lapels, the most ruffles and the highest platform shoes you ever saw. Maybe I'll wear my hair... up. Wait, wait, wait, Marge. If honest and open is what you like, get a load of this. I'm not really in any French class. This was just a brilliant scheme to get to know you better. - Hmm! - Ow. You knew the city forensics finals are tomorrow and you kept me here until 1:00 am! Pretending to be stupid! Homer J Simpson, I hate you! Hey, Barney... Guess who's got a date for the prom! Finally, the kitchen. Something light. Like... Okarito. Okarito. Goes well with Alexandra. Oh, look. Whoa, pink. Or... Hot Water Beach. Very relaxing. Pinky, blue. It's not very kitchen-y. But it is pretty... nursery. Hmm. Nursery? Or we could go Rangitikei River. (GASPS) Oh! (LAUGHS) You little beauty! So, the nursery. * Everything I know tells me this story doesn't end with us sitting here and you telling it to us. They got married, had kids and bought a cheap TV. Marge: Bringing up a son, even a blind one, isn't a lifetime occupation. (yawns) Now the more you help him, the more you hurt him. Congratulations, Artie. Marge, this may not be the most appropriate forum for what I'm about to put forth, but... (hocks) would you go to the prom with me? Well... I can think of a dozen highly cogent arguments. The first is from Time Magazine. "America's love affair with the prom. "Even wallflowers can look forward to one date a year..." No, Artie. The best argument is I've known and respected you for eight years and would be delighted to go with you. If you pinch your cheeks, they'll glow. A little more. Try to break some capillaries. Couldn't we just use rouge for this? Ladies pinch. Whores use rouge. Is Marge here? Who... ...or what are you? Her date. Mm-hm. I suppose you want to come in. OK. Marge's dates are getting homelier. That's what you get when you don't put out. You know, I usually insist on approving Marge's dates, but from what she's told me, I'm sure you're a solid citizen. Thanks, Mr B. (All grunt) Mrs Bouvier: Here she comes. Get the camera ready. Homer! What are you doing here? You said you'd go to the prom with me. I also said I hated you. We haven't talked since then. I was afraid you'd cancel our date, so I stayed away from you completely,... (Doorbell rings) ...even though it meant skipping school for three weeks and graduating this summer... I hope. I'm Artie Ziff, Marge's date for the prom. Well, hello. Well, hello, hello. Don't we look handsome? Yes, indeed, we do. Well, come in, young man. Wait a second. If he's your date, who are you? I'm... a spare. Excuse me. Now that that unpleasantness is behind us forever, let's take a picture of the happy couple. Say "cheese whiz." Hey, buddy, where's your date? She's with him. Ouch. You want to go home, huh? I paid for this car, I paid for this tuxedo and I paid for the two dinners. We're going to the prom. Prom it is. # Good-bye, yellow brick road # where the dogs of society howl... # Don't dance too closely now. Have a good time. Wait a second. Is that a bong? You have asthma? All right, move along. Homer Simpson. I thought you dropped out. You wish, Donderlinger. That's Mr Donderlinger. Steak or chicken? One of each, please. - Coming through! - Barney! # Oh, yes, they call him the streak. # (Whistles) That young man's bought himself a decade of detention. We have tabulated your votes. The king and queen of Springfield High School's class of 1974 are... (Drum rolls) ...Artie Ziff and Marge Bouvier. Oh, isn't it great? Hail Queen Marge! Long live the queen! Hello, classmates. Instead of voting for some athletic hero or a pretty boy, you have elected me, your intellectual superior as your king. Good for you. Very well said. Now your king and queen will share their first royal dance. # Why do birds suddenly appear # every time # you're near? # I got to get out of here. (Sobs) Homer? What? Why are you doing this? Why can't you accept that I'm here with someone else? Because I'm sure we were meant to be together. Usually when I have a thought, there's a lot of other thoughts in there. Something says yes, something says no. But this time, there's only yes. How could the only thing I've ever been sure about in my life be wrong? (sobs) Hmm... I don't know, but it is. Well, where to now, Romeo? Inspiration Point. OK, but I'm only paid to drive. (People moaning and giggling) Marge: Gee, Artie. Artie, wait. I don't know. It was a beautiful evening. Let's not ruin it. Artie: Just this. Artie, please... - Come on, kiss me. - Oh, Artie. I mean it! Now stop it! - I'm sorry, Marge. - Take me home, Artie. It's 1:00. If you want to keep me I'm afraid it's going to be $45 an hour. Nah, that's OK. I'm broke. I'll walk home. Yeah, why spoil a perfect evening? Marge, I would appreciate it if you didn't tell anybody about my busy hands. Not so much for myself, but I am so respected it would damage the town to hear it. - Good night. - Yeah, right. Mr Bouvier: When Simpson showed up, it took years off my life. Mrs Bouvier: Will you stop it? She went out with the good one. - (Horn honks) - Shut up! - (Horn honks) - I'm over as far as I can go. (Horn honks) All right! All right! I'll walk in the mud! - Homer? - Marge? - Yeah. You want a ride? - Sure. Oh Homer, when I got home, I realised who I should have gone to the prom with. - Who? - Oh... Hi, prom date. Marge, pour vous. Why so glum? (sighs) I got a problem. Once you stop this car, I'm going to hug you and kiss you and then I'll never be able to let you go. And I never have. (gags) Homer: # Some people call me a space cowboy # Yeah # Some call me the gangster of love # Some people call me Maurice. # Whoo! Whoo! # Because I speak of the profitos of love # People talk about me, baby... # # Say I'm doing you wrong, doing you wrong, do you wrong. # Don't you worry, baby. Don't worry. # Cos I'm right here, right here, right... # Copyright Able 2018