The Simpsons (1989–…): Season 18, Episode 1 - The Mook, the Chef, the Wife and Her Homer - full transcript
The laughing kid of the school kids' car pool, Michael, is all of a sudden feared by everyone when it comes out that he is the son of local mob boss (or, as he says, "garbage businessman") Fat Tony. Everyone but Lisa. She tries to get to know him and finds out all he really wants to do is becoming a chef, cooking being his greatest passion. When Fat Tony is severely hurt by a whacking attempt, carried out by a rival mob considering him vulnerable for his son won't take revenge in case of his death, Michael doesn't feel like he can take over the family business. So Homer and Bart, feeling responsible for the new friends of the family, offer to take over while Fat Tony is recovering.
Otto, Bart won't
give me a seat.
You know I can deal with your problem
or I can rock out.
But I cannot do both.
We're an American band
We're an American band
We're comin' to your town
We'll help you party down
We're an American band...
Otto, help me.
Fu-u-u-u... nk.
What am I hearing now?
Nature?
The ultimate bring-down.
Why...
was I... born?!
Don't worry, dude.
We'll hook you up with some tunes.
Old McDonald had a fart
Fart, fart, fart, fart, fart
And on his farthe had a fart.
Fart, fart, fart, fart, fart.
That's not a song.
Real songs are about deals
with the devil, far-off lands,
and where you'd find smoke
in relation to water.
Mister driver?
One of my bus mates
has purloined my French horn.
Why can't you talk like a dude?
Oh, knock it off, Kearney.
Why are you still in this school anyway?
We were in third grade together.
Stupid school
doesn't know how to teach me.
The farts on the bus
go round and round...
Oh, wow, this is about 90% less funny
than you think it is.
W-wait... the radio.
That'll drown 'em out.
Disco?
Easy listening.
Country Western?
World music?
Urban smooth?
Salsa fusion?
Metallica?
- Am I on drugs?
- Yes, you are,
but that really is Metallica.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm late for
a gumdrop parade on Foo-foo Island.
What's up, Metallica?
Need a lift?
We don't take rides
from strangers.
I'm no stranger.
Remember this?
Metallica ru-u-u...les!
Oh, yeah, Springfield Arena, 1997,
Row XX, Seat 64.
I was about to quit the bande
when I saw your lighter.
- You saved me that night.
- So what are you waiting for? Hop in.
Hop in what?
Look at me, I'm Otto. I'm a hundred
years old, and I drive a school bus.
Oh, man. Maybe me and Metallica
can go splitsies on a cab.
Hey, loser, we got a ride
from a real fan.
I used to sleep
with Lars' grandmother.
Never listen to
our music again.
Bye-bye, take care,
watch your step,
eat my shorts,
have a good one.
She's all yours, dude.
Oh, and I think I
ran over a moose.
This is for every bus driver,
lunch lady, gym coach, hall monitor...
Otto.
Are you meting out
corporal punishment?
Can't... talk... now.
I'm spanking a child.
You are temporarily suspended
from bus driving, with pay.
- No...!
- Hand in your beaded seat-cover.
And your gun.
I hope you're happy, Bart.
Thanks to your hijinks,
I have to drive you and
your friends to school.
Let me drive.
I go through yellow lights.
One more crack out of you,
young man,
and I'm showing everyone
your baby pictures.
Sorry, sorry, sorry.
Carpool!
I brought my own car seat.
Look.
Hey, Lisa, my safety bar
matches your eyes.
Carpool, Nelson!
Just a sec, I've got to finish
my science project.
Whoa.
"Squirrels don't like rocks."
Okay, just one more
kid to pick up.
Ew, it's Michael.
That weird kid who
never says anything.
He's so gross and stupid.
- Hi, Michael.
- Hi, Michael.
Hey, dork, you're sittin'
on my shadow.
Sorry.
What, you're too good
to sitn my shadow?
Aw, I forgot my math book.
No problem, I'll just drive
up to your house and get it.
Whoa. Your mother must dance at the
nicest strip club in town.
Michael, my son.
Here is your book,
and never forget:
the divisor goes into the dividend.
Yes, Papa.
That was Fat Tony.
Your dad's a mob boss?
Please don't have me whacked.
I was just kidding around.
We were all having fun.
Wasn't it fun?
Oh, fun is so fun.
There is no Mafia.
Columbus Day
is better than Christmas.
He's Fat Tony's son!
His daddy putted bullets
in my daddy.
My daddy had to potty in a bag.
Ah, look at all this puke!
Why did I come in on my day off?
Oh, Fat Tony's lad!
God bless you.
Oh, stop, stop!
Who's the out-of-tune idiot
on third clarinet?
- That's me.
- I p-- you didn't
let me finish!
I... from now on you're not
third clarinet,
you're first everything!
Now if you excuse me, I'm brewing tea
and I have to go jiggle my bags!
- You're sitting with me?
- I'm not afraid of you.
Well, you shouldn't be.
I'm not like my dad.
I understand.
I'm not like my dad either.
Oh.
There's a triple-A battery
in my macaroni and cheese!
It counts
as a vegetable.
I can't eat this.
You know, I cook a little.
Maybe I can make you something.
All we need is some
fresh ingredients.
Well, you're not going
to find any here.
Yeah, yeah, yeah,
get in the bowl.
Dandelion greens,
a sprig of wildill,
fresh blackberry
juice for dressing.
It's delicious!
Are you just saying that
'cause you're afraid of my dad?
No, it's great!
Ooh! Except for the bee!
It's good
to see you laughing!
You could make
a great chef someday.
My dad wants me to go
into the family business.
Which is, uh...
"waste management."
We are going for a ride.
By which I mean the carpool.
Perhaps we will get yogurt.
Now who wants to sleep
with the fishes?
Because I broughtthis Finding Nemo bedspread.
The Calabresis!
My archenemies in waste management!
Milhouse, may I borrow
your three-ring binder?
"Garfield" or "Love Is?"
Uh, I prefer the cat. He hates Mondays.
We can all relate.
Not that bad.
Mom!
I apologize for
my tardiness.
I "ran into" some
old acquaintances.
On the surface, that sounds
perfectly pleasant.
Papa, can Lisa and her family
come over for dinner?
We'd love to!
You know,
I've never met your wife.
Sadly, my Anna Maria was whacked
by natural causes.
Oh, you're a widower.
I bring flowers to her
grave every Sunday.
Ooh, flowers every week!
I wish I was dead.
Welcome to my home.
Must have cost a fortune.
Actually, you can really
keep costs down
when you don't pay
for materials or labor...
or permits...
or land.
Your paintings have brush marks.
And your statues have wieners!
Your words honor
my family.
In the words of the old country:
Mangiare, i miei amici!
He's talkin' like the guy
in Fat Albert.
Howba areba youba?
Homer!
Whyba youba doba thatba?
Boss, the Calabresis are
here for the sit-down.
The sit-down's tonight?!
Again this Palm Pilot
has failed to remind me.
I believe this needs to be
hot-synced.
What are you doing?
I thought you meant "hot-sync" it.
You know how it is with us--
everything means kill.
Sit-down item number one:
your recent murderous overtures
with regard to my person.
We meant no disrespect,
Fat Tony.
We were simply trying
to kill you.
When we saw you driving
that carpool,
we figured you'd gone soft,
and were therefore whackable.
You'd be fools to kill me for my son,
Michael, would take my place.
And wreak a terrible vengeance.
I made souffl?s!
I've tried to make those, but
they always end up as brownies.
You said you meant
to make brownies.
Any other lies?
Oh, this must be
what angels taste like!
Oh, Michael,
One bite of this souffl? and your father
will realize your gift deserves to flower.
Why can't you do anything?
So, we are at peace once more.
Let us indulge in exaggerated
displays of affection!
This guy, I love him!
Get over here!
My brother, over here!
You're my everything,
over here!
You color my world, over here!
Over here, over here.
Papa, I brought
you some dessert.
My God, this is like
a lap dance for my taste buds!
Ah, yeah!
The flavor just drove my sweet tooth
to a vacant lot and whacked it.
Hey, kid, what bakery
did you boost these from?
Well, actually,
I made them.
Papa, I want to be a chef.
A chef, huh?
Hey, look what we got here.
It's Chef Boy-ar-gay!
What's he gonna do if we rub you out,
serve our soup cold?
Well, gazpacho is served cold.
So take that.
Hey, Tony, catch you later.
Your kid's got a bright future--
catering your funeral.
You know what I like?
Those little baby hot dogs.
Do they small down big ones
or do they make 'em different?
Michael, you have made me appear weak
in the eyes of my enemies.
Fat Tony, it's not important
what other people think of you.
What matters is how
you feel inside.
Papa!
Your father's gonna be absolutely fine
in about three months.
But for now, he can't talk,
write or blink.
With Fat Tony
doing the morphine mambo,
the Calabresis are gonna try
to put him down for a dirt nap.
Dirt nap, eh?
Hmm...
Homer, our house is on fire!
Help me save the children!
Sorry, Marge, can't hear you!
What am I gonna do now?
Kid, the only way you're
gonna live to grow shprazoot
on your abonjoola is if
you take your dad's place.
Let's go.
Hey, can we go by the Lexus place?
I want to test drive that new hybrid.
You are a hybrid:
half idiot, half moron.
Whoa!
Where did that come from? Whoa!
I don't know what to do.
This is all my daughter's fault.
But I'll make it up to you.
Bart and I will run your
business till your dad's okay.
Well, what do you know
about being a mob boss?
Everything! And I learned it all
from the greatest gangster film ever:
Shark Tale.
- This guy in here owes us money.
- Leave him to me.
I hurt my fist and my palm.
I thought you guys
were looking out for me.
All right, tap jockey, you owe Fat
Tony 50 bucks. Cough it up!
Look, Mister, I don't got
the cash. My clientele...
They're all bums.
They never pay!
Just get the money!
Homer, the mob is putting
the screws on me, see.
I ain't getting killed
'cause you won't pay your tab.
Now give me 50 bucks!
Take it, take it!
Just don't hurt me!
Okay, pretty boy, where's
Fat Tony's 50 bucks?
Look, all-all I got is 25.
I swear! I swear!
It'll do for now!
Hey, hey, it's Fat Tony's crew!
How's the big guy doing?
I sent flowers, but you
probably didn't get them.
You know florists.
Glug, glug.
Krusty, Fat Tony hasn't
received his weekly payment
for keeping McDonald's
and Burger King out of town.
Well, I'm a little short this week.
Could I just pay you $5
to keep out Hardee's?
Ow! My schnoz! My punim! My pupik!
My genechtagazoink!
Homer, where'd you get
that truck?
Uh, it-it fell off a truck.
Uh, you know, a truck-truck.
Where'd you get that?
Eh, it fell off
a truck-truck truck.
Homer, Helen Lovejoy never returned my
casserole dish from the church potluck.
Could you pick it up?
No problem.
I'll be back in ten minutes.
Hi-diddily-ho, mob-areenos!
I, uh...
I got your, uh, phone bill
in my mail by mistake,
and, uh...
I-I'll just pay it.
Dad, you want I should
plug him in the ankle?
You monster! Just cut his Achilles
tendon with this knife.
Bart, Mr. Simpson, we are getting out of
the mob business, right now.
But this is the only life I know!
I'm sorry. I just can't live with
myself, seeing you this way.
- Can I still talk wh my hands?
- I'm afraid not.
- What about with my ears?
- No.
My friends, I surrender.
I'm handing over
all my father's territory,
in exchange for the safety
of my family and the Simpsons.
Sorry. We can only guarantee
we won't hurt them.
Yeah. You know, they've still got
to eat right and exercise.
Walk the dog once in a while.
He's a furry little fitness machine.
Well said.
As for me,
from now on, my only
business is cooking.
You did the right thing, Mikey.
You weren't cut out to be a wise guy.
But you, you got a future
in this business. Call me.
Thanks, but I'm going
into bootleg DVDs.
It's so great that Michael's
doing what he loves.
And I can stop looking the other way
from what my husband's doing.
Lady.
Man.
Lady.
Man.
Lady.
I want to be buried next to my wife,
under that bridge in Jersey.
Someone poisoned these meatballs.
Homer?
Hey, if I poisoned them,
would I be doing this?
This is a chef's worst nightmare.
I won't be using this recipe anymore.
Well done, my son.
In making peace with our enemies,
you were able to take them down.
Perhaps you and I are not
so different after all.
Papa, I'm just glad you're okay.
Now get some rest.
Why don't you tell him
it was an accident?
It was an accident, right?
Michael?
Don't ever ask me
out my business, Lisa.
Michael?
give me a seat.
You know I can deal with your problem
or I can rock out.
But I cannot do both.
We're an American band
We're an American band
We're comin' to your town
We'll help you party down
We're an American band...
Otto, help me.
Fu-u-u-u... nk.
What am I hearing now?
Nature?
The ultimate bring-down.
Why...
was I... born?!
Don't worry, dude.
We'll hook you up with some tunes.
Old McDonald had a fart
Fart, fart, fart, fart, fart
And on his farthe had a fart.
Fart, fart, fart, fart, fart.
That's not a song.
Real songs are about deals
with the devil, far-off lands,
and where you'd find smoke
in relation to water.
Mister driver?
One of my bus mates
has purloined my French horn.
Why can't you talk like a dude?
Oh, knock it off, Kearney.
Why are you still in this school anyway?
We were in third grade together.
Stupid school
doesn't know how to teach me.
The farts on the bus
go round and round...
Oh, wow, this is about 90% less funny
than you think it is.
W-wait... the radio.
That'll drown 'em out.
Disco?
Easy listening.
Country Western?
World music?
Urban smooth?
Salsa fusion?
Metallica?
- Am I on drugs?
- Yes, you are,
but that really is Metallica.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm late for
a gumdrop parade on Foo-foo Island.
What's up, Metallica?
Need a lift?
We don't take rides
from strangers.
I'm no stranger.
Remember this?
Metallica ru-u-u...les!
Oh, yeah, Springfield Arena, 1997,
Row XX, Seat 64.
I was about to quit the bande
when I saw your lighter.
- You saved me that night.
- So what are you waiting for? Hop in.
Hop in what?
Look at me, I'm Otto. I'm a hundred
years old, and I drive a school bus.
Oh, man. Maybe me and Metallica
can go splitsies on a cab.
Hey, loser, we got a ride
from a real fan.
I used to sleep
with Lars' grandmother.
Never listen to
our music again.
Bye-bye, take care,
watch your step,
eat my shorts,
have a good one.
She's all yours, dude.
Oh, and I think I
ran over a moose.
This is for every bus driver,
lunch lady, gym coach, hall monitor...
Otto.
Are you meting out
corporal punishment?
Can't... talk... now.
I'm spanking a child.
You are temporarily suspended
from bus driving, with pay.
- No...!
- Hand in your beaded seat-cover.
And your gun.
I hope you're happy, Bart.
Thanks to your hijinks,
I have to drive you and
your friends to school.
Let me drive.
I go through yellow lights.
One more crack out of you,
young man,
and I'm showing everyone
your baby pictures.
Sorry, sorry, sorry.
Carpool!
I brought my own car seat.
Look.
Hey, Lisa, my safety bar
matches your eyes.
Carpool, Nelson!
Just a sec, I've got to finish
my science project.
Whoa.
"Squirrels don't like rocks."
Okay, just one more
kid to pick up.
Ew, it's Michael.
That weird kid who
never says anything.
He's so gross and stupid.
- Hi, Michael.
- Hi, Michael.
Hey, dork, you're sittin'
on my shadow.
Sorry.
What, you're too good
to sitn my shadow?
Aw, I forgot my math book.
No problem, I'll just drive
up to your house and get it.
Whoa. Your mother must dance at the
nicest strip club in town.
Michael, my son.
Here is your book,
and never forget:
the divisor goes into the dividend.
Yes, Papa.
That was Fat Tony.
Your dad's a mob boss?
Please don't have me whacked.
I was just kidding around.
We were all having fun.
Wasn't it fun?
Oh, fun is so fun.
There is no Mafia.
Columbus Day
is better than Christmas.
He's Fat Tony's son!
His daddy putted bullets
in my daddy.
My daddy had to potty in a bag.
Ah, look at all this puke!
Why did I come in on my day off?
Oh, Fat Tony's lad!
God bless you.
Oh, stop, stop!
Who's the out-of-tune idiot
on third clarinet?
- That's me.
- I p-- you didn't
let me finish!
I... from now on you're not
third clarinet,
you're first everything!
Now if you excuse me, I'm brewing tea
and I have to go jiggle my bags!
- You're sitting with me?
- I'm not afraid of you.
Well, you shouldn't be.
I'm not like my dad.
I understand.
I'm not like my dad either.
Oh.
There's a triple-A battery
in my macaroni and cheese!
It counts
as a vegetable.
I can't eat this.
You know, I cook a little.
Maybe I can make you something.
All we need is some
fresh ingredients.
Well, you're not going
to find any here.
Yeah, yeah, yeah,
get in the bowl.
Dandelion greens,
a sprig of wildill,
fresh blackberry
juice for dressing.
It's delicious!
Are you just saying that
'cause you're afraid of my dad?
No, it's great!
Ooh! Except for the bee!
It's good
to see you laughing!
You could make
a great chef someday.
My dad wants me to go
into the family business.
Which is, uh...
"waste management."
We are going for a ride.
By which I mean the carpool.
Perhaps we will get yogurt.
Now who wants to sleep
with the fishes?
Because I broughtthis Finding Nemo bedspread.
The Calabresis!
My archenemies in waste management!
Milhouse, may I borrow
your three-ring binder?
"Garfield" or "Love Is?"
Uh, I prefer the cat. He hates Mondays.
We can all relate.
Not that bad.
Mom!
I apologize for
my tardiness.
I "ran into" some
old acquaintances.
On the surface, that sounds
perfectly pleasant.
Papa, can Lisa and her family
come over for dinner?
We'd love to!
You know,
I've never met your wife.
Sadly, my Anna Maria was whacked
by natural causes.
Oh, you're a widower.
I bring flowers to her
grave every Sunday.
Ooh, flowers every week!
I wish I was dead.
Welcome to my home.
Must have cost a fortune.
Actually, you can really
keep costs down
when you don't pay
for materials or labor...
or permits...
or land.
Your paintings have brush marks.
And your statues have wieners!
Your words honor
my family.
In the words of the old country:
Mangiare, i miei amici!
He's talkin' like the guy
in Fat Albert.
Howba areba youba?
Homer!
Whyba youba doba thatba?
Boss, the Calabresis are
here for the sit-down.
The sit-down's tonight?!
Again this Palm Pilot
has failed to remind me.
I believe this needs to be
hot-synced.
What are you doing?
I thought you meant "hot-sync" it.
You know how it is with us--
everything means kill.
Sit-down item number one:
your recent murderous overtures
with regard to my person.
We meant no disrespect,
Fat Tony.
We were simply trying
to kill you.
When we saw you driving
that carpool,
we figured you'd gone soft,
and were therefore whackable.
You'd be fools to kill me for my son,
Michael, would take my place.
And wreak a terrible vengeance.
I made souffl?s!
I've tried to make those, but
they always end up as brownies.
You said you meant
to make brownies.
Any other lies?
Oh, this must be
what angels taste like!
Oh, Michael,
One bite of this souffl? and your father
will realize your gift deserves to flower.
Why can't you do anything?
So, we are at peace once more.
Let us indulge in exaggerated
displays of affection!
This guy, I love him!
Get over here!
My brother, over here!
You're my everything,
over here!
You color my world, over here!
Over here, over here.
Papa, I brought
you some dessert.
My God, this is like
a lap dance for my taste buds!
Ah, yeah!
The flavor just drove my sweet tooth
to a vacant lot and whacked it.
Hey, kid, what bakery
did you boost these from?
Well, actually,
I made them.
Papa, I want to be a chef.
A chef, huh?
Hey, look what we got here.
It's Chef Boy-ar-gay!
What's he gonna do if we rub you out,
serve our soup cold?
Well, gazpacho is served cold.
So take that.
Hey, Tony, catch you later.
Your kid's got a bright future--
catering your funeral.
You know what I like?
Those little baby hot dogs.
Do they small down big ones
or do they make 'em different?
Michael, you have made me appear weak
in the eyes of my enemies.
Fat Tony, it's not important
what other people think of you.
What matters is how
you feel inside.
Papa!
Your father's gonna be absolutely fine
in about three months.
But for now, he can't talk,
write or blink.
With Fat Tony
doing the morphine mambo,
the Calabresis are gonna try
to put him down for a dirt nap.
Dirt nap, eh?
Hmm...
Homer, our house is on fire!
Help me save the children!
Sorry, Marge, can't hear you!
What am I gonna do now?
Kid, the only way you're
gonna live to grow shprazoot
on your abonjoola is if
you take your dad's place.
Let's go.
Hey, can we go by the Lexus place?
I want to test drive that new hybrid.
You are a hybrid:
half idiot, half moron.
Whoa!
Where did that come from? Whoa!
I don't know what to do.
This is all my daughter's fault.
But I'll make it up to you.
Bart and I will run your
business till your dad's okay.
Well, what do you know
about being a mob boss?
Everything! And I learned it all
from the greatest gangster film ever:
Shark Tale.
- This guy in here owes us money.
- Leave him to me.
I hurt my fist and my palm.
I thought you guys
were looking out for me.
All right, tap jockey, you owe Fat
Tony 50 bucks. Cough it up!
Look, Mister, I don't got
the cash. My clientele...
They're all bums.
They never pay!
Just get the money!
Homer, the mob is putting
the screws on me, see.
I ain't getting killed
'cause you won't pay your tab.
Now give me 50 bucks!
Take it, take it!
Just don't hurt me!
Okay, pretty boy, where's
Fat Tony's 50 bucks?
Look, all-all I got is 25.
I swear! I swear!
It'll do for now!
Hey, hey, it's Fat Tony's crew!
How's the big guy doing?
I sent flowers, but you
probably didn't get them.
You know florists.
Glug, glug.
Krusty, Fat Tony hasn't
received his weekly payment
for keeping McDonald's
and Burger King out of town.
Well, I'm a little short this week.
Could I just pay you $5
to keep out Hardee's?
Ow! My schnoz! My punim! My pupik!
My genechtagazoink!
Homer, where'd you get
that truck?
Uh, it-it fell off a truck.
Uh, you know, a truck-truck.
Where'd you get that?
Eh, it fell off
a truck-truck truck.
Homer, Helen Lovejoy never returned my
casserole dish from the church potluck.
Could you pick it up?
No problem.
I'll be back in ten minutes.
Hi-diddily-ho, mob-areenos!
I, uh...
I got your, uh, phone bill
in my mail by mistake,
and, uh...
I-I'll just pay it.
Dad, you want I should
plug him in the ankle?
You monster! Just cut his Achilles
tendon with this knife.
Bart, Mr. Simpson, we are getting out of
the mob business, right now.
But this is the only life I know!
I'm sorry. I just can't live with
myself, seeing you this way.
- Can I still talk wh my hands?
- I'm afraid not.
- What about with my ears?
- No.
My friends, I surrender.
I'm handing over
all my father's territory,
in exchange for the safety
of my family and the Simpsons.
Sorry. We can only guarantee
we won't hurt them.
Yeah. You know, they've still got
to eat right and exercise.
Walk the dog once in a while.
He's a furry little fitness machine.
Well said.
As for me,
from now on, my only
business is cooking.
You did the right thing, Mikey.
You weren't cut out to be a wise guy.
But you, you got a future
in this business. Call me.
Thanks, but I'm going
into bootleg DVDs.
It's so great that Michael's
doing what he loves.
And I can stop looking the other way
from what my husband's doing.
Lady.
Man.
Lady.
Man.
Lady.
I want to be buried next to my wife,
under that bridge in Jersey.
Someone poisoned these meatballs.
Homer?
Hey, if I poisoned them,
would I be doing this?
This is a chef's worst nightmare.
I won't be using this recipe anymore.
Well done, my son.
In making peace with our enemies,
you were able to take them down.
Perhaps you and I are not
so different after all.
Papa, I'm just glad you're okay.
Now get some rest.
Why don't you tell him
it was an accident?
It was an accident, right?
Michael?
Don't ever ask me
out my business, Lisa.
Michael?