The Simpsons (1989–…): Season 1, Episode 8 - The Telltale Head - full transcript

Bart gets more than he bargained for when he saws the head off a statue of the town's founder.

You know, Bart,
when I was your age,

I pulled a few boners.

But I think you'll find
that people are pretty decent...

- if you give them half--
- Look! There it is--

- The head!
- Kill him!

They got us cornered, boy.
We'll never get away. Give me the head.

No, Dad. This whole thing
was my fault.

- You run along.
- Son, we're in this mess together.

No matter how
tempting it might be,

I can't let my only boy get ripped
limb from limb by a bloodthirsty mob.

- Aw, Dad.
- We'll die together,
like a father and son should.



Look.
Now we've got 'em.

- Hey, that's Homer Simpson.
- And his kid, Bart.

- Let's kill them!
-Bring 'em out!

- off the kid, man. Off him!
- Kill Bart!

- Kill Homer!
- Let's kill this guy!

Murderous mob,
I beg you to spare our lives.

At least until you've heard
the story of how we ended up...

with the head
of our beloved town founder.

How long will
this story take?

Uh, about 23 minutes
and 5 seconds.

- It's too long!
- 23:05?

Well, all right.
Go ahead.

Okay. It all started
Sunday morning.

Kids!
We're late for church.



Kids!
We're late for church.

Get your butts
down here right now!

- Ready for inspection, Mom.
- Very nice, Maggie.

And, Lisa,
you look lovely.

Bart,
assume the position.

- Ohh!
- Bart.

Now where's your father?

- Phillips has broken free.
- Get 'em. Get 'em!

-The 50, the 40, the 30, the 20, the 10.
-Oh, no!

- Touchdown!
-Homer?
- D'oh!

A 64-yard run!
We've got an upset in the making!

No, we don't.
Ty being objective for once in-- Oh?

- Let's go, Homer.
- But you don't understand, Marge.

I have 50 bucks
riding on this game.

Homer,
you promised me.

This isn't gambling, Marge.

- It's a lead-pipe cinch.
- Here's the kick off.

Wolodarsky takes it at the five.
And oh, my. He fumbles!

- Oh, no!
-Another touchdown!

Come on.

Why should I feel like a traffic cop
every Sunday morning?

I'm just tying to get
a little goodness into the family.

Where is it? The game! Where is it?

-Ahh!
-... got Wolodarsky open in the end zone.

- Catch it. Catch it.
- It's complete. Touchdown!

All right!

Oh, Doctor, we got
a barnburner here.

This could be the most
remarkable comeback since
Lazarus rose from the dead.

Laza who?

Come on, everybody.
We're late.

Bart, I want you to promise me you'll
pay attention in Sunday school.

Bart. Bart?

- Bart!
- Whoa! Are you talking to me?

What's this?
A personal stereo.

Were you going to listen
to rock music in Sunday school?

- Maybe.
- Can you believe this, Homer? Homer?

- Homer!
- No, no, no! We stink. We stink.

...the 40, the 30,
the 20, the 10. Touchdown!

Homer, were you planning on sitting
in the car till the game was over?

- Maybe.
- It's because of your
irreverent attitude...

that Bart thinks he can sneak
headphones into Sunday school.

- Now move it!
- Now here's the kickoff.
Wolodarsky takes it.

And oh my. He fumbles!

Will my dog Pepper
be there?

I'm sorry,
but the answer is no.

- Why not?
- Because heaven is for people.

What about my cat,
Snowball?

I'm sorry,
but the answer is no.

- Will there be cavemen in heaven?
- Certainly not.

Um, ma'am, what if you're
a really good person,

but you're in a really,
really bad fight...

and your leg gets gangrene,
and it has to be amputated.

Will it be waiting
for you in heaven?

For the last time,
Bart, yes!

I'd like to begin today's
sermon, which I have entitled,

"Gambling,
the Eighth Deadly Sin."

Today is Sunday,
the Lord's day,

and yet,
at this very moment,

millions of Americans
are not in the Lord's house.

They're in their own house
worshipping a false idol--

professional football.

- Oh, Lord--
- It's a beautiful Sunday.

Perfect football weather
for this incredible game.

And by the way,
this game is being brought to you...

by the good people
at Duffbeer.

You can't get enough...
of that wonderful Duff.

Now they're lining up
fort his crucial kick.

One final tick
of the clock remains.

If they win, it will cap
an amazing comeback.

But it's a 49-yard field goal
into the wind.

Make it! Make it!
Make it! Make it!

- The kick is up.
- Oh, please, please, please, please!

- Holy Toledo, it's good!
- It's good! It's good! It's good!

It's... good to see
you all in church.

- Please, be seated, Homer.
- Yeah, sit down, Homer.

The ventriloquist goes to heaven,
but the dummy doesn't.

- Oh, oh, oh! Me!
- Bart?

What about a robot
with a human brain?

I don't know!
All these questions!

Is a little blind faith
too much to ask?

Yea!

Don't forget next week.
Remember to read--

That was very nice,
Father.

I was pleased
you enjoyed it.

I seemed to have struck a chord
with you today, Homer.

What? Oh, yeah,
you were great.

Homer.

Homer, you embarrassed us in front
of the whole congregation.

And today's sermon was one
you should have really listened to.

- What was it about?
- Gambling.

Oh. He didn't say that under certain
circumstances it was all right, did he?

No! Look. I don't want to talk about
this anymore in front of the kids.

Lisa, Bart,

what did you two learn
in Sunday school today?

The answers to deep
theological questions.

Yeah. Among other things,
apes can't get into heaven.

What? Those cute
little monkeys?

- That's terrible. Who told you that?
- Our teacher.

I can understand how they wouldn't
let in those wild jungle apes,

but what about those really
smart ones who live among us,

who roller-skate
and smoke cigars?

Oh, cool, man.
Space Mutants 4.

Drop me off!
Drop me off!

- No way, Jose.
- Marge, they're only space mutants.

Uh-uh. I know what
those movies are like.

Killing innocent people,
eating human flesh.

You'll just get
a lot of bad ideas.

Hey, Dad.
Can I have five bucks?

I hope you're not planning
to see a certain movie...

starring certain
space mutants...

that a certain mother didn't
want you to see.

Perish the thought.

Here you go, son. Share the wealth.
That's what I always say.

Ooh!

Da da da da da
Whoa! Whoa!

Ooh, cowabunga!

- Hey, hot dog!
- What?

Nice dismount, man.

- Didn't hurt.
- Oh, yeah? Well, do it again.

Nah. Might land on my face
and end up looking like you.

You little punk!

Hey, man, leave the kid alone.
I like him.

- You do?
- Yeah, you're witty.

- You do?
- Yeah, you're witty.

- So what's your name, man?
- I'm Bart Simpson.

This here's Kearny,
and I'm Jimbo.

You don't need an introduction.
You're the worst kid in school.

- Thanks.
- Psst. Coast is clear.

You guys
are sneakin' in?

- Yeah. Only saps pay to see movies.
- Hey, Bart, come on!

But sneaking into a movie is
practically stealing, man.

- " Practically"?
- It is stealing.

Well, okay. I just wanted to make sure
we weren't deluding ourselves.

Wait! I think
I hear something.

Oh, come on.
Loosen up, babe.

There's nobody here
but you and me.

No. Stop it!

I think I hear something...
not human.

Let's get romantic.

Well, okay.

You little sneaks,
you're coming with me.

Next time you little hoodlums
ty this, I'm calling your parents!

Oh, yeah? Well, we don't wanna see
your crummy movie anyway.

Yeah. We'll take
our business elsewhere.

You know, Bart.

I've been kicked out
of all four Space Mutant movies.

Wow, man.

Three jumbo
chery squisheys,

- and one double jumbo
original flavor, sir.
- Okay.

Don't you kids take anything.
I'm watching you.

I've got eyes in the back of my head.

- Four fifty-two.
- Don't worry, guys. It's on me.

Share the wealth.
That's what I always say.

Guys?

Guys?

Hey, guys.
Where'd you get all that great stuff?

Five-finger discount,
man.

- You ripped it off?
- Yeah. Thanks for covering for us, man.

- Go on, Bart.
- But that guy founded Springfield.

He built our first hospital
out of logs and mud.

If it weren't for him,
all the settlers would have died...

in the great blizzard
of '48.

So?

So...

watch me hit him
right between the eyes.

What are you doing? Show a little
respect, you insolent little thugs.

We're really scared.

Hey! Hey, you!
Hey! Hey, you!

You know, when you
look up at clouds in the sky,

they start looking
like stuff.

- No, they don't.
- Yeah, they do.

Like that one over there
looks just like a cherry bomb.

Hey, you're right.
And look at that one.

It looks like a guy with
a switchblade stuck in his back.

Yeah, that one
looks like a school bus...

going over a cliff in flames,
with kids inside screaming.

That one looks just like the statue of
our town founder, Jebediah Springfield.

- Does not.
- Does too.

- I mean, without the head, of course.
- Oh, yeah.

I wish someone really would cut
his ugly old head off.

- You do?
- Yeah, that'd be cool.

Sure would cheese
everybody off.

But, guys, come on.
Don't you remember history class?

Jebediah once killed
a bear with his bare hands.

- Oh, sorry.
- We forgot how much you love
Jebediah Springfield.

- Yeah, he's your boyfriend.
- Yeah!

- Come on, guys. Knock it off.
- Beat it, Simpson.

Man, I thought
you were cool.

Beat it, Simpson.

Man, I thought
you were cool.

Aha!

Wow! Look at these
bowling balls, Maggie.

Can you think of a better way for
Daddy to spend his hard-won 50 bucks?

Now I've seen everything.

Black marbleized
with a liquid center.

"The Stealth Bowler:
The pins don't know what hit them."

Dad, can I talk to you
about something?

Sure, boy.
What's on your mind?

Well, I was wondering.
How important is it to be popular?

I'm glad you asked, son.
Being popular is the most
important thing in the world.

So, like, sometimes you could
do stuff you think is pretty bad...

so other kids
will like you better?

- You're not talking about
killing anyone, are you?
- No.

- Are you?
- No!

Then run along,
you little scamp.

A boy without mischief is like a
bowling ball without a liquid center.

What have I done?

Bart, are you all right?

Uh, yeah.
Top of the world, Ma.

Well, then come down
for breakfast.

Ooh! Look at this one.

"The Hammer of Thor:
It will send your pins to...

Val-halla." Lisa?

Valhalla is where Vikings
go when they die.

Oh.
That's some ball.

Good morning,
everybody.

We interrupt "Mamboin the Morning"...

to bring you
this special news bulletin.

The statue of Jebediah Springfield,
our illustrious town founder,

was brutally decapitated last night...

in an act
of senseless vandalism.

We now go to Police Chief Wiggum
at City Hall.

Well, we have no witnesses,
no suspects, and no leads.

If anyone has any information,
please dial "O" and ask for the police.

That number again,"O."

Stay tuned to this station...

for further developments as they break.

- It's just a statue.
- The statue of the trail blazing
founder of our town.

It's a symbol of what we can all do
if we put our minds to it.

Just a statue?

Is the Statue of Liberty
just a statue?

Is the Leaning Tower of Pizza
just a statue?

- Uh-oh. School bus.

Come on, Lis.
School bus.

Go on, Lisa. We've all got
to be brave, just like Jebediah...

- when he killed that bear.
- It's so awful.

Okay, come on,
come on, everybody.

We gotta get on
with our lives.

Let's ty and put
this tragedy behind us.

You're right, Moe.

A beer, please, and make sure
there's a head on it.

I said it before, and I'll say it again.

" Hell in a hand basket!"

I hope they find
the punk who did this,

and I hope
they cut his head off.

Yeah!

Hi, guys.
What's up?

We were saying we'd love to meet the
guy who cut off the head of that statue.

Yeah, we wish he were here right now.

Oh, really?

Yeah, we'd break every bone
in his stupid little body.

- Yeah, that's right, man. Limb by limb.
- Yeah!

What? But-But yesterday,
didn't you say it would be cool...

to cut off the head,
and really cheese everybody off?

Yeah, that was
just cloud talk, man.

Yeah. I mean, throwing rocks
is one thing,

but I would never cut
the head off of a guy...

who iced a bear
with his bare hands.

-So what's in the bag, Bart?
-My head.

I said, what's in the bag, Bart?

Go ahead, Bart. Tell them.

It's the head
of Jebediah Springfield.

I gotta go!

Look what you've done.
You wanted to be popular.

Now you're the most
hated boy in town.

You're not really talking to me.
You're just my overactive imagination.

- Oh, I am, am I?
- Shut up.

I wanted them
to like me.

Hmm.
The child seems rattled.

- Can you blame him?
- No. No, I can't.

There, there, Mr. Burns.
Blow, sir.

Hey, Bart,
where are you going?

- Uh, to my room.
- Why don't you watch Krusty the Clown?

There's someone out there in Krustyland
who has committed an atrocity.

If you know who cut off
Jebediah's head--

I don't care if it's your brother,
your sister, your daddy or your mommy--

turn them in,
and Krusty will send you...

a free slide whistle
just like Sideshow Bob's.

Wait a minute.

I hope you're not planning to do
what I think you're doing.

Sorry, man.
It's either you or me.

You know, Bart, you don't
have to found a town to be a hero.

Sometimes a hero
could be a young boy...

with the courage to stand up
and admit he's made a mistake.

Yeah, well, I'm running
a little short on courage right now.

Aah!

Anyway, think about it,
will you, son?

Jebediah Obediah
Zachariahjedediah Springfield...

came West in 1838.

Along the way,
he met a ferocious bear...

and killed him
with his bare hands.

That's " B-A-R-E" hands.

Although modern historians
recently uncovered evidence...

that the bear, in fact,
probably killed him.

- But whether bear killed man--
- Mom. Dad.

- I knew it all along!
- Why, Bart? Why?

Yeah, why?
You little--

Because I wanted
some really bad kids to like me.

Somehow I got the idea
that being popular...

was the most important
thing in the world.

- Where did you get
a ridiculous idea like that?
- Uh--

Lay off
the boy, Marge.

He's a good kid.
Quit giving him the third degree.

Homer, did you have
something to do with this?

Well, maybe I am
a little responsible.

- A little?
- Come on, son.

Let's take the head thing
back to the authorities.

You know, Bart,
when I was your age,

I pulled a few boners.

But I think you'll find people
are pretty decent...

- if you give them half--
- Look! There it is--

- The head!
- Kill 'em!

-Allright. Allright.
- Allright, already.

- We know this part.
-Oh, yeah, right.

Well, that's my story.

And if you still wanna tear apart
this young Sunday school student...

as he stands on the brink
of salvation,

- I await your wrath.
- Aw!

- Somehow I don't feel
like killing anymore.
- Neither do I.

Dad.

- Forgive me, sir.
- No problem, Bart.

Look!
It's glorious.

It's beautiful, man.

- I love you, Smithers.
- The feeling is more than mutual, sir.

Whoo!

Good going, son.

But remember--
Most lynch mobs aren't this nice.