The Simpsons (1989–…): Season 20, Episode 10 - Take My Life, Please - full transcript
Homer finds out that he actually won the senior class president election, and he gets an opportunity to find out how his life would have been different if it had happened.
(squawks)
(shrieks)
(school bell ringing)
(burps)
(whistle blows)
(screams)
(beeping)
(playing the blues)
(tires screech)
(tires screeching)
(horn honking, Grandpa shouts)
(tires screech)
D'oh!
(tires screech)
D'oh!
(grunts)
Aha!
(squeaking)
(gasps)
(grunts)
(squeaking)
(static crackles over TV)
Captioning sponsored by
20TH CENTURY FOX TELEVISION
FOX BROADCASTING COMPANY,
and brought to you by FORD.
Drive One.
Today we induct
the newest honoree
to the Springfield Wall of Fame,
who will take his place
along such luminaries as
Duffman, Poochie and the man
who invented the yield sign,
Paul Yield.
Now please welcome
the newest inductee
into the Springfield
Wall Of Fame,
local businessman, frequent
flyer silver card-holder
and legendary 20% tipper...
(crowd gasps)
...Springfield's own
Vance Connor!
(cheering, applause)
Hey. Hi.
BARNEY:
You're better than us!
Homer, that guy's
your age?
No, he's ten days younger.
So you're saying
he'll look like you in ten days?
If he's lucky.
The guy owns
a few local businesses
and everyone treats him
like he's God.
Well, God doesn't need
his own special day.
What about Sunday?
Sunday's the Lord's day,
boy, not God's.
Completely different guy.
Your father's
just jealous because
Vance was our class president
in high school.
If I had won class president,
I'd be the one getting thrown
up in the air right now.
Dad, you ran for
class president?
Yep, back in high school,
right before I met your mother.
A simpler time when the
only thing we worried about
was total nuclear
annihilation.
Rock the boat
Don't rock the boat, baby
Rock the boat
Don't tip the boat...
So under my reign
as vice president,
we sent three mathletes
to the state finals,
all of the tenth graders'
lima beans germinated...
(cheering)
Yeah, you should be proud!
So if you want to build on that,
vote for me,
and you will all advance...
with Vance!
(cheering)
And now I'm gonna
throw it back to a guy who,
in my opinion, is the classiest
principal in the business,
Principal Dondelinger!
(coughs)
(cheering, applause)
Ladies, I've seen him up close,
and yes, his eyes
are that green.
Our next candidate
is, uh, Homer Simpson.
Please hold
your applause forever.
(microphone feedback squeals)
My fellow Wildcats,
my name is Homer Simpson.
There are many reasons why
I, uh, I, I--
You know what?
(murmuring)
I spent all night
working on that speech,
but now I realize the best thing
to do is speak from my heart.
(murmuring)
So, uh...
I feel that, fellow Wildcats...
(panicky gasps)
Um, um, "Webster's defines--"
Um, "In the words
of Ted Nugent--"
"School spirit--"
"Next card--"
"The future..."
(laughter)
I've never heard
a speech so bad.
Ten days detention!
No fair!
Anyone who votes for Vance
gets a half-day tomorrow.
Mm, half-day, eh?
(sighs)
Don't feel
bad, Homie.
I married you.
And you're a million
times better than--
(gasps)
Here comes Vance!
Hey, Vance!
Thanks for coming out.
Hey, Gail.
Ooh, I love your bangs.
Hi.
Uh, there they are,
my favorite mixed-race couple.
Guys that popular and confident
are never truly happy.
He looks happy.
Tears of a clown.
He's not crying,
and he's not known for clowning.
Exception
that proves the rule.
If losers like me
know one thing,
it's that deep down,
winners like him are miserable.
Watch, I'll prove it.
Angry nut coming through!
Clear a path, boys.
(muttering)
Hey, Vance.
Hey, Homer Simpson.
How you been?
Great, thanks.
Listen,
settle a bet.
Behind that smile
you're dying, right?
Behind this smile is a bigger
smile trying to get out.
Oh, oh, here it comes!
Oh, yeah.
Please!
You got to have
some secret agony!
I bet those fancy
shoes hurt your feet.
No, actually they're like
two leather clouds.
Oh!
Got them from a buddy of mine
with a store in Shelbyville.
You want his number?
No. Yes.
Hey, Homer, you want to try
my new Vance Connor-politan?
Like Vance, it is smooth, cool
and oh, so sophisticated.
I'll just stick with my beer.
Homer, why are you
so down on Vance Connor?
He gave me one of his kidneys.
Yeah, me, too.
Because when Vance
beat me in that election,
he ruined my life.
Why'd you just exchange
that look of guilt?
Lenny, uh, I-I think it's
time for us to come clean.
About how we give
each other haircuts?
No, we'll take that
secret to our graves.
I'm talking about,
uh, you know.
Oh, right.
(clears throat)
Listen, Homer, something weird
happened back in high school.
Teenage Carl and I were walking
down the hallway when...
You two, I want you
to take this box
and bury it in the woods.
The true results of this
election must never be known.
Tell you what-- we'll do
it under one condition:
Our parents want us
to go to college,
but with a bad enough
recommendation from you,
we can stay here
and party.
Okay, but screw this up,
and it's Carnegie-Mellon
University for the both of you!
(both gasp)
So there's a chance
I actually won!
I've got to dig up
that ballot box!
Just let it
go, Homer.
Al Gore?
Homer, I had a presidential
election stolen from me.
But I moved on,
and I think you could say
everything worked out all right.
Isn't that right, Alfred?
(speaking in a falsetto,
as Alfred Nobel):
It sure is, Albert.
(Homer mumbling)
Ballots...
stolen...
real winner unknown.
What is the truth?
I gotta know.
Lenny! Wake up!
(gasps)
Finally, you returned
my shovel.
That's not why I'm here.
Get dressed.
California casual
or business attire?
California casual.
(gulps)
(grunting and panting)
(clunk)
There it is!
The ballot box?!
No, this is the box
that tells us where
the ballot box is.
LENNY:
"Right under this."
What will this box reveal?
And what will I use this box
for afterwards?
Mismatched bolts and nuts?
Recipes?
I may never know.
LISA:
Vance Connor.
HOMER: D'oh!
Homer Simpson.
Woo-hoo!
Vance Connor.
D'oh!
Homer Simpson.
Woo-hoo!
Vance Connor.
D'oh!
Homer Simpson.
Woo-hoo!
Please stop doing that.
"D'oh!" or "woo-hoo!"?
Both. Homer Simpson.
Vance Connor.
Fonzie.
Homer Simpson.
And the winner is...
(gasps)
Homer Simpson!
Yes! I'm Senior Class President!
I get a parking spot
if the Assistant Principal
isn't using it!
(laughs)
Wait a second.
If I'd been Class President
like I was supposed to,
I'd be the one with
the big mansion
and the color TVs
and the hot wife!
Hey!
Marge, I still would
be married to you,
but you would just be hotter.
Oh!
Dad, just 'cause you won
a high school election
doesn't mean your whole life
would've been better.
That's exactly
what it means.
And Dondelinger took
that life away from me.
And the taking of a life
is murder.
And the punishment
for murder is--
well, it varies from state
to state and by race.
But I'm going to
find Dondelinger
and tell him I know
what he did last summer...
22 years ago...
in the winter!
(golf cart whirring)
(tires screeching)
(chuckles)
That's--
that's the thing about
you Assistant Principals.
You can drive the ball,
but you can't putt.
(laughing)
Wait a minute!
You're not in
our foursome.
No other foursome would have me.
My legs gross people out.
HOMER:
Dondelinger!
Uh-oh! Looks like one
of my former students
on a quest for truth.
(Bart screaming)
Dondelinger, I should have
been Class President,
but you stole
the election from me.
I can explain.
But are you sure we should
talk in front of your son?
Yes! I want him to know
that if your life doesn't
turn out the way you want
there's someone else
to blame!
Oh, I already knew
that, Dad.
I'm going to blame you.
I respect your choice.
Now drive back to
the clubhouse
and order me a
Tom Collins.
With a virgin
Tom Collins for me?
Virgin? What are
you, a girl?
(Bart giggling)
Now, Dondelinger,
I want some answers.
Very well.
It's a fact I didn't
like you, Simpson.
Still don't.
You lie. You love me!
Whatever complex
emotions I feel,
they're not why I
did what I did.
There was another reason....
J-J-jive talkin'
You're telling me lies
J-Jive talkin'...
(chuckles)
Homer Simpson.
What a loser.
Hey, what if we got everyone
to vote for him,
as a joke, and he won?
Then we could laugh
at him all the way
through high school
and at every reunion.
BOTH:
Go, sports!
(grunting)
Hmm.
Yeah.
Mm.
So you see,
I disposed of the ballot box
to spare your feelings.
You denied me my dream,
so I'm angry.
But you did it out of kindness,
so I'm grateful.
I'm filled with respect
and contempt for you!
I really...
Oh, why, you...!
Oh! But...
(grunting)
Oh, you're so--
I hate you!
Mm-hmm.
As principal, I did a lot of
things I'm not proud of.
I would steal school chalk
for my home chalkboard.
But I'm not sorry
I rigged that election.
Now if you'll excuse me,
I'm going to sit
under that tree
and think of all the women I
could've talked to but didn't.
(sighs)
The brown-haired girl
gave me a look.
The redhead in the park
was reading a book.
The girl at the airport
upgraded my car.
Tonight I wonder
just where you are.
Homie, you're
barely eating.
Yeah, I can actually
see your hands.
They're not just a blur.
I don't feel much like eating.
I'll never know
what would've happened
if I'd have been
class president.
MAN (with Italian accent):
Oh, you could know...
if you dared.
Huh? Who said that?
In the kitchen
is a man
from the old country
who works for me.
He stirs the sauce-a.
They say if he stirs
the sauce-a
just-a right,
he can also see
what might have been.
As a rational
skeptic,
I find that hard
to believe.
Also, as a vegetarian, I hope
there's not meat in that sauce.
Any other orders, Mussolini?
No, that's it.
Watch the sauce.
You see what I see.
I see a hair.
You see too much.
Now, watch the sauce
of bubbling red
and see the life
you could have led.
Okay.
(grunting)
Yes, I like to stir.
Your new Senior Class
President is:
(chuckles)
(sighs)
Homer Simpson.
(all laughing)
Our president's
a real loser!
Yeah. A loser...
like us!
He proves you don't
have to be popular
to have everyone
like you!
(chanting):
Homer!
Homer! Homer!
Homer!
Homer!
ALL (chanting):
Homer!
Homer! Homer!
Homer! Homer!
(fading out):
Homer!
I would've
been a winner,
instead of some idiot spending
his Saturday night
staring into a bowl of sauce.
Why did fate do this to me?
Ask the garlic bread.
Why?
Why?
Hey, everyone!
The stupid fat man is
talking to garlic bread!
(cackling)
Come on, stir.
I must see more.
Homey, please.
Nothing good
will come of this.
Marge, unlike CPR,
this is something
I must know.
Very well.
Now we must once more
stare madly
into the sauce.
Mr. President,
we need a class song,
a class motto
and a class mascot.
"Color My World,"
"Disco Sucks"
and Butthead the Goat.
Mr. President,
do you approve of the
bailout of the French Club?
They're too big to fail.
Homer, do you have a date
for the prom yet?
Sorry, the only girl
I could ever want
is right over there.
Debbie Pinson.
Hey, Debbie, um...
Want to go to prom with me?
Well, I'm engaged
to the quarterback,
but yes!
Forget it, Marge.
A girl like you could never
land a Homer Simpson.
LISA:
Aha!
So Dad's life would actually
have been worse,
because he wouldn't have
gotten together with Mom,
his one true love.
Just keep watching
the sauce, girlie.
(music playing)
(sighing)
I got the biggest lapels,
the ruffliest shirt,
and the most
beautiful...
(gasps)
girl.
Thank you, Homer.
Debbie, I forgot I have an
English paper due on Monday.
Would you read "To Kill A
Mockingbird" for me?
And if you could write
down how Boo Radley fits
into the Southern Gothic
tradition, that would be great.
Nobody's ever asked me
to use my head-brain before!
(applause)
Uh, Homer Simpson.
Class President.
Oh my God,
he's talking to me!
A lot of great things have
happened to me lately,
but they're nothing
compared to meeting you.
May I have this dance?
Only if it lasts forever.
Homer Simpson!
I was going to let you
get to fifth base.
It would've been something you
told your grandchildren about.
Sorry, Debbie.
I hope you can
find happiness without me.
(humming
romantic tune)
Who wants a cheerleader
on the rebound?
I do!
Oh, right.
I can hardly believe
this is real.
Marge, the way
I feel about you
is as real and lasting
as my hairline.
Ooh. Who's that side of beef
munchin' on our sister?
I don't know, but in this
reality, I am not gay!
Hubba hubba!
(crickets chirping)
Sweet dreams!
Young man,
you have the noble bearing
of the barbarian leader
Vercingetorix.
Thank you,
mysterious weirdo.
Tell me, what student government
office do you hold?
Secretary?
Treasurer?
Dare I say Secretary-Treasurer?
I'm Class President.
Oh, hot dog!
Say, how would you
like to work for me?
Sir, we could start him
off in Sector 7-G.
7-G?
Let the Lennys and the Carls
of the world
waste their wretched lives
in that testicle-shriveling
torture chamber.
Son, you'll be working in...
Sector 6-F!
(sighing)
LISA:
Aha!
So Dad's life
would have been the same.
He would have married
Mom and worked for Mr. Burns.
It would have been a push.
Can you keep
her quiet?
Not even when
she's snorkeling.
I was describing
beautiful fish, Bart.
(sighing)
(whistling tune)
How you doin', Dad?
Oh, I can't complain
and I never do!
Thanks for letting me live
in your guest house.
Honey, I'm home.
Where are the kids?
You used protection.
We never had any.
Well, that's what's missing.
Our lives would be horrible
without the kids.
Uh, yes.
That must be it.
This is the best
of all possible worlds.
Blah, blah, blah, and...
I want to live in the sauce!
If you could live
in the sauce,
don't you think
I would live in the sauce?
Stupid-o!
(sighing)
How long has
he been there?
I don't know, but
he's algaefying.
(splashing)
Homie, please come inside.
Okay.
(sighing)
Dad, we need
to have a talk.
Oh, I get it.
You're all going to try
to convince me
that my life is great
just like it is, right?
Are you kidding?
We couldn't even convince you
that Bruce Wayne is Batman.
Oh, come on!
That millionaire playboy?
He's too busy socializing
at cocktail parties
and managing the affairs
of the Wayne foundation.
Don't open
this one again.
Why does he think Alfred's
friends with Batman?
Just stop.
Dad, we think the sauce
had it all wrong.
Oh, look who thinks
he's smarter than sauce.
Sweetheart, I think
you'll feel better
after we take
a little walk.
HOMER:
Oh, why would you bring me here?
It's like bringing Richard
Nixon to the Watergate.
Or Kevin Costner
to Waterworld.
Oh, really?
(gasping)
My own plaque!
And one for
Vice-President Butthead.
Cool.
Is that why you
brought me here, spirits?
Yep. In the future, people will
look at this and they'll say,
"Whoever he was,
he must've mattered."
I guess that
would be nice.
Oh, pardon me,
can my son
have his picture
taken with you?
Really?
Sure.
Dad, do you think I could
be elected Class President?
Well, we can't all
be Homer Simpson, son.
Thanks, guys.
Hey, was there another plaque
here before?
Plaques come,
plaques go.
Now let's get
something to eat.
How 'bout Italian?
God, no!
I hear there's a
Korean barbeque place
where the beef spells out
the date of your death.
Ooh, that sounds
like fun!
Shh!
(shrieks)
(school bell ringing)
(burps)
(whistle blows)
(screams)
(beeping)
(playing the blues)
(tires screech)
(tires screeching)
(horn honking, Grandpa shouts)
(tires screech)
D'oh!
(tires screech)
D'oh!
(grunts)
Aha!
(squeaking)
(gasps)
(grunts)
(squeaking)
(static crackles over TV)
Captioning sponsored by
20TH CENTURY FOX TELEVISION
FOX BROADCASTING COMPANY,
and brought to you by FORD.
Drive One.
Today we induct
the newest honoree
to the Springfield Wall of Fame,
who will take his place
along such luminaries as
Duffman, Poochie and the man
who invented the yield sign,
Paul Yield.
Now please welcome
the newest inductee
into the Springfield
Wall Of Fame,
local businessman, frequent
flyer silver card-holder
and legendary 20% tipper...
(crowd gasps)
...Springfield's own
Vance Connor!
(cheering, applause)
Hey. Hi.
BARNEY:
You're better than us!
Homer, that guy's
your age?
No, he's ten days younger.
So you're saying
he'll look like you in ten days?
If he's lucky.
The guy owns
a few local businesses
and everyone treats him
like he's God.
Well, God doesn't need
his own special day.
What about Sunday?
Sunday's the Lord's day,
boy, not God's.
Completely different guy.
Your father's
just jealous because
Vance was our class president
in high school.
If I had won class president,
I'd be the one getting thrown
up in the air right now.
Dad, you ran for
class president?
Yep, back in high school,
right before I met your mother.
A simpler time when the
only thing we worried about
was total nuclear
annihilation.
Rock the boat
Don't rock the boat, baby
Rock the boat
Don't tip the boat...
So under my reign
as vice president,
we sent three mathletes
to the state finals,
all of the tenth graders'
lima beans germinated...
(cheering)
Yeah, you should be proud!
So if you want to build on that,
vote for me,
and you will all advance...
with Vance!
(cheering)
And now I'm gonna
throw it back to a guy who,
in my opinion, is the classiest
principal in the business,
Principal Dondelinger!
(coughs)
(cheering, applause)
Ladies, I've seen him up close,
and yes, his eyes
are that green.
Our next candidate
is, uh, Homer Simpson.
Please hold
your applause forever.
(microphone feedback squeals)
My fellow Wildcats,
my name is Homer Simpson.
There are many reasons why
I, uh, I, I--
You know what?
(murmuring)
I spent all night
working on that speech,
but now I realize the best thing
to do is speak from my heart.
(murmuring)
So, uh...
I feel that, fellow Wildcats...
(panicky gasps)
Um, um, "Webster's defines--"
Um, "In the words
of Ted Nugent--"
"School spirit--"
"Next card--"
"The future..."
(laughter)
I've never heard
a speech so bad.
Ten days detention!
No fair!
Anyone who votes for Vance
gets a half-day tomorrow.
Mm, half-day, eh?
(sighs)
Don't feel
bad, Homie.
I married you.
And you're a million
times better than--
(gasps)
Here comes Vance!
Hey, Vance!
Thanks for coming out.
Hey, Gail.
Ooh, I love your bangs.
Hi.
Uh, there they are,
my favorite mixed-race couple.
Guys that popular and confident
are never truly happy.
He looks happy.
Tears of a clown.
He's not crying,
and he's not known for clowning.
Exception
that proves the rule.
If losers like me
know one thing,
it's that deep down,
winners like him are miserable.
Watch, I'll prove it.
Angry nut coming through!
Clear a path, boys.
(muttering)
Hey, Vance.
Hey, Homer Simpson.
How you been?
Great, thanks.
Listen,
settle a bet.
Behind that smile
you're dying, right?
Behind this smile is a bigger
smile trying to get out.
Oh, oh, here it comes!
Oh, yeah.
Please!
You got to have
some secret agony!
I bet those fancy
shoes hurt your feet.
No, actually they're like
two leather clouds.
Oh!
Got them from a buddy of mine
with a store in Shelbyville.
You want his number?
No. Yes.
Hey, Homer, you want to try
my new Vance Connor-politan?
Like Vance, it is smooth, cool
and oh, so sophisticated.
I'll just stick with my beer.
Homer, why are you
so down on Vance Connor?
He gave me one of his kidneys.
Yeah, me, too.
Because when Vance
beat me in that election,
he ruined my life.
Why'd you just exchange
that look of guilt?
Lenny, uh, I-I think it's
time for us to come clean.
About how we give
each other haircuts?
No, we'll take that
secret to our graves.
I'm talking about,
uh, you know.
Oh, right.
(clears throat)
Listen, Homer, something weird
happened back in high school.
Teenage Carl and I were walking
down the hallway when...
You two, I want you
to take this box
and bury it in the woods.
The true results of this
election must never be known.
Tell you what-- we'll do
it under one condition:
Our parents want us
to go to college,
but with a bad enough
recommendation from you,
we can stay here
and party.
Okay, but screw this up,
and it's Carnegie-Mellon
University for the both of you!
(both gasp)
So there's a chance
I actually won!
I've got to dig up
that ballot box!
Just let it
go, Homer.
Al Gore?
Homer, I had a presidential
election stolen from me.
But I moved on,
and I think you could say
everything worked out all right.
Isn't that right, Alfred?
(speaking in a falsetto,
as Alfred Nobel):
It sure is, Albert.
(Homer mumbling)
Ballots...
stolen...
real winner unknown.
What is the truth?
I gotta know.
Lenny! Wake up!
(gasps)
Finally, you returned
my shovel.
That's not why I'm here.
Get dressed.
California casual
or business attire?
California casual.
(gulps)
(grunting and panting)
(clunk)
There it is!
The ballot box?!
No, this is the box
that tells us where
the ballot box is.
LENNY:
"Right under this."
What will this box reveal?
And what will I use this box
for afterwards?
Mismatched bolts and nuts?
Recipes?
I may never know.
LISA:
Vance Connor.
HOMER: D'oh!
Homer Simpson.
Woo-hoo!
Vance Connor.
D'oh!
Homer Simpson.
Woo-hoo!
Vance Connor.
D'oh!
Homer Simpson.
Woo-hoo!
Please stop doing that.
"D'oh!" or "woo-hoo!"?
Both. Homer Simpson.
Vance Connor.
Fonzie.
Homer Simpson.
And the winner is...
(gasps)
Homer Simpson!
Yes! I'm Senior Class President!
I get a parking spot
if the Assistant Principal
isn't using it!
(laughs)
Wait a second.
If I'd been Class President
like I was supposed to,
I'd be the one with
the big mansion
and the color TVs
and the hot wife!
Hey!
Marge, I still would
be married to you,
but you would just be hotter.
Oh!
Dad, just 'cause you won
a high school election
doesn't mean your whole life
would've been better.
That's exactly
what it means.
And Dondelinger took
that life away from me.
And the taking of a life
is murder.
And the punishment
for murder is--
well, it varies from state
to state and by race.
But I'm going to
find Dondelinger
and tell him I know
what he did last summer...
22 years ago...
in the winter!
(golf cart whirring)
(tires screeching)
(chuckles)
That's--
that's the thing about
you Assistant Principals.
You can drive the ball,
but you can't putt.
(laughing)
Wait a minute!
You're not in
our foursome.
No other foursome would have me.
My legs gross people out.
HOMER:
Dondelinger!
Uh-oh! Looks like one
of my former students
on a quest for truth.
(Bart screaming)
Dondelinger, I should have
been Class President,
but you stole
the election from me.
I can explain.
But are you sure we should
talk in front of your son?
Yes! I want him to know
that if your life doesn't
turn out the way you want
there's someone else
to blame!
Oh, I already knew
that, Dad.
I'm going to blame you.
I respect your choice.
Now drive back to
the clubhouse
and order me a
Tom Collins.
With a virgin
Tom Collins for me?
Virgin? What are
you, a girl?
(Bart giggling)
Now, Dondelinger,
I want some answers.
Very well.
It's a fact I didn't
like you, Simpson.
Still don't.
You lie. You love me!
Whatever complex
emotions I feel,
they're not why I
did what I did.
There was another reason....
J-J-jive talkin'
You're telling me lies
J-Jive talkin'...
(chuckles)
Homer Simpson.
What a loser.
Hey, what if we got everyone
to vote for him,
as a joke, and he won?
Then we could laugh
at him all the way
through high school
and at every reunion.
BOTH:
Go, sports!
(grunting)
Hmm.
Yeah.
Mm.
So you see,
I disposed of the ballot box
to spare your feelings.
You denied me my dream,
so I'm angry.
But you did it out of kindness,
so I'm grateful.
I'm filled with respect
and contempt for you!
I really...
Oh, why, you...!
Oh! But...
(grunting)
Oh, you're so--
I hate you!
Mm-hmm.
As principal, I did a lot of
things I'm not proud of.
I would steal school chalk
for my home chalkboard.
But I'm not sorry
I rigged that election.
Now if you'll excuse me,
I'm going to sit
under that tree
and think of all the women I
could've talked to but didn't.
(sighs)
The brown-haired girl
gave me a look.
The redhead in the park
was reading a book.
The girl at the airport
upgraded my car.
Tonight I wonder
just where you are.
Homie, you're
barely eating.
Yeah, I can actually
see your hands.
They're not just a blur.
I don't feel much like eating.
I'll never know
what would've happened
if I'd have been
class president.
MAN (with Italian accent):
Oh, you could know...
if you dared.
Huh? Who said that?
In the kitchen
is a man
from the old country
who works for me.
He stirs the sauce-a.
They say if he stirs
the sauce-a
just-a right,
he can also see
what might have been.
As a rational
skeptic,
I find that hard
to believe.
Also, as a vegetarian, I hope
there's not meat in that sauce.
Any other orders, Mussolini?
No, that's it.
Watch the sauce.
You see what I see.
I see a hair.
You see too much.
Now, watch the sauce
of bubbling red
and see the life
you could have led.
Okay.
(grunting)
Yes, I like to stir.
Your new Senior Class
President is:
(chuckles)
(sighs)
Homer Simpson.
(all laughing)
Our president's
a real loser!
Yeah. A loser...
like us!
He proves you don't
have to be popular
to have everyone
like you!
(chanting):
Homer!
Homer! Homer!
Homer!
Homer!
ALL (chanting):
Homer!
Homer! Homer!
Homer! Homer!
(fading out):
Homer!
I would've
been a winner,
instead of some idiot spending
his Saturday night
staring into a bowl of sauce.
Why did fate do this to me?
Ask the garlic bread.
Why?
Why?
Hey, everyone!
The stupid fat man is
talking to garlic bread!
(cackling)
Come on, stir.
I must see more.
Homey, please.
Nothing good
will come of this.
Marge, unlike CPR,
this is something
I must know.
Very well.
Now we must once more
stare madly
into the sauce.
Mr. President,
we need a class song,
a class motto
and a class mascot.
"Color My World,"
"Disco Sucks"
and Butthead the Goat.
Mr. President,
do you approve of the
bailout of the French Club?
They're too big to fail.
Homer, do you have a date
for the prom yet?
Sorry, the only girl
I could ever want
is right over there.
Debbie Pinson.
Hey, Debbie, um...
Want to go to prom with me?
Well, I'm engaged
to the quarterback,
but yes!
Forget it, Marge.
A girl like you could never
land a Homer Simpson.
LISA:
Aha!
So Dad's life would actually
have been worse,
because he wouldn't have
gotten together with Mom,
his one true love.
Just keep watching
the sauce, girlie.
(music playing)
(sighing)
I got the biggest lapels,
the ruffliest shirt,
and the most
beautiful...
(gasps)
girl.
Thank you, Homer.
Debbie, I forgot I have an
English paper due on Monday.
Would you read "To Kill A
Mockingbird" for me?
And if you could write
down how Boo Radley fits
into the Southern Gothic
tradition, that would be great.
Nobody's ever asked me
to use my head-brain before!
(applause)
Uh, Homer Simpson.
Class President.
Oh my God,
he's talking to me!
A lot of great things have
happened to me lately,
but they're nothing
compared to meeting you.
May I have this dance?
Only if it lasts forever.
Homer Simpson!
I was going to let you
get to fifth base.
It would've been something you
told your grandchildren about.
Sorry, Debbie.
I hope you can
find happiness without me.
(humming
romantic tune)
Who wants a cheerleader
on the rebound?
I do!
Oh, right.
I can hardly believe
this is real.
Marge, the way
I feel about you
is as real and lasting
as my hairline.
Ooh. Who's that side of beef
munchin' on our sister?
I don't know, but in this
reality, I am not gay!
Hubba hubba!
(crickets chirping)
Sweet dreams!
Young man,
you have the noble bearing
of the barbarian leader
Vercingetorix.
Thank you,
mysterious weirdo.
Tell me, what student government
office do you hold?
Secretary?
Treasurer?
Dare I say Secretary-Treasurer?
I'm Class President.
Oh, hot dog!
Say, how would you
like to work for me?
Sir, we could start him
off in Sector 7-G.
7-G?
Let the Lennys and the Carls
of the world
waste their wretched lives
in that testicle-shriveling
torture chamber.
Son, you'll be working in...
Sector 6-F!
(sighing)
LISA:
Aha!
So Dad's life
would have been the same.
He would have married
Mom and worked for Mr. Burns.
It would have been a push.
Can you keep
her quiet?
Not even when
she's snorkeling.
I was describing
beautiful fish, Bart.
(sighing)
(whistling tune)
How you doin', Dad?
Oh, I can't complain
and I never do!
Thanks for letting me live
in your guest house.
Honey, I'm home.
Where are the kids?
You used protection.
We never had any.
Well, that's what's missing.
Our lives would be horrible
without the kids.
Uh, yes.
That must be it.
This is the best
of all possible worlds.
Blah, blah, blah, and...
I want to live in the sauce!
If you could live
in the sauce,
don't you think
I would live in the sauce?
Stupid-o!
(sighing)
How long has
he been there?
I don't know, but
he's algaefying.
(splashing)
Homie, please come inside.
Okay.
(sighing)
Dad, we need
to have a talk.
Oh, I get it.
You're all going to try
to convince me
that my life is great
just like it is, right?
Are you kidding?
We couldn't even convince you
that Bruce Wayne is Batman.
Oh, come on!
That millionaire playboy?
He's too busy socializing
at cocktail parties
and managing the affairs
of the Wayne foundation.
Don't open
this one again.
Why does he think Alfred's
friends with Batman?
Just stop.
Dad, we think the sauce
had it all wrong.
Oh, look who thinks
he's smarter than sauce.
Sweetheart, I think
you'll feel better
after we take
a little walk.
HOMER:
Oh, why would you bring me here?
It's like bringing Richard
Nixon to the Watergate.
Or Kevin Costner
to Waterworld.
Oh, really?
(gasping)
My own plaque!
And one for
Vice-President Butthead.
Cool.
Is that why you
brought me here, spirits?
Yep. In the future, people will
look at this and they'll say,
"Whoever he was,
he must've mattered."
I guess that
would be nice.
Oh, pardon me,
can my son
have his picture
taken with you?
Really?
Sure.
Dad, do you think I could
be elected Class President?
Well, we can't all
be Homer Simpson, son.
Thanks, guys.
Hey, was there another plaque
here before?
Plaques come,
plaques go.
Now let's get
something to eat.
How 'bout Italian?
God, no!
I hear there's a
Korean barbeque place
where the beef spells out
the date of your death.
Ooh, that sounds
like fun!
Shh!