The Simpsons (1989–…): Season 22, Episode 10 - Moms I'd Like to Forget - full transcript
After Bart discovers that he has the same hand scar as a fifth grader, Marge becomes inspired to reunite with a group of old friends from Bart's "Mommy and Me" class.
(whimpers)
(crow caws)
(gasps)
(school bell ringing)
(Barney belches)
(whistle blows)
(yells)
(beeping)
(playing the blues)
(playing the blues)
Ooh!
(gunfire)
(tires screeching)
(horn honking, Grampa shouts)
D'oh!
(tires screeching)
(grunts)
(alarm clock rings))
(happy music playing)
♪ ♪
(grunting, sighing)
♪ The Simpsons 22x10 ♪
Moms I'd Like to Forget
Original Air Date on January 9, 2011
Dodgeball!
(kids cheering, whooping)
GIRL: Yay, Dodgeball!
We're down to our
final four huckers!
Three wily fourth graders
and one scrappy
fifth gradesman!
To the death!
(kids shouting)
("Pipeline"
by the Ventures playing)
(grunts)
(cheering)
♪ ♪
(bell clangs)
(fireworks whistling, exploding)
♪ ♪
(whooshing)
(rumbling, crackling)
(explosions)
("Pipeline" ends)
(kids shouting)
(grunts)
Ha...
ah... ah...
Where do you want
your ball mark,
face or belly?
How about...
in your dreams!
Hee-yah!
(balls whooshing)
(grunting)
(kids shouting, cheering)
I'm not the coach!
There is no coach!
I just wanted to see
if you were wearing a bra.
Oh. (chuckles)
Your four eyes saw
a lot today, Milhouse.
What's the skinny?
The fifth graders
played a great game.
They got a great
program up there.
Great fans!
But this was
just our day.
Whatever happens, they
can never take away...
Aah! The ball never
touched the ground--
and I caught it!
That means fifth
graders win!
No way!
What a rip!
Shut your gobs!
I only took this
refereeing job
'cause I was cold
and needed a shirt!
(kids cheering, Willie gasping)
(Willie snoring)
(snoring continues)
(Willie grunts)
(kids cheering, Willie snoring)
(ominous music plays)
I hate you fifth graders!
I deem this
victory Pyrrhic!
ALL (chanting):
Pyrrhic! Pyrrhic!
Your response is puerile!
ALL (chanting):
Puerile! Puerile!
(to "The Old Gray Mare"):
♪ There goes the fifth grade ♪
♪ Floatin' down the Delaware ♪
♪ Chewin' on their underwear,
can't afford another pair ♪
♪ Ten days later,
bitten by a polar bear ♪
♪ That's how
the polar bear died. ♪
(groaning, chattering)
How dare they dishonor
the lyrics of "Old Gray Mare"!
How dare they!
(grunting)
Zach! Zach!
Who did this to you?
It was... it was...
the fourth graders!
(dramatic
orchestral music plays)
I like to think my kids would
know how to lose gracefully.
In the fifth grade,
we teach character.
Mike, let's be
adults here.
You're right, Edna.
(coughs):
Fourth sucks.
Oh, that's it!
(bell dings)
(steam hissing)
(screams)
(old-time Western saloon
piano playing)
(grunting)
(vicious yelling)
(yelling)
(grunts)
(grumbles)
Why, I oughta...
Hey, fourth graders,
can you help us
with our fractions?
Oh, wait, you can't.
(laughter)
They ain't even read Where
the Red Fern Grows yet.
(laughter)
That's it!
We challenge you
to a rumble.
Challenge accepted.
This is gonna be great!
A real rumble,
just like in that movie
where the Jets
fought the Sharks.
Hmm...
("Jet Song" from
West Side Story playing)
♪ ♪
Rumble it is!
After school, rain or shine.
(thunder crashing)
Anybody want to wait
for shine?
Yeah. Yeah.
Yeah. Yeah.
Definitely shine.
It's agreed-- no biting,
no throwing rocks,
no face farts,
flying face farts,
backdoor haircuts,
'nad noogies,
moist Michaels, and absolutely
no "Brazilian hardwood."
Is this a rumble
or a harvest dance?
Okay, you want hardwood?
No, no, no, no.
Then let's do this thing.
(angry muttering)
You know, if they
do this regularly,
maybe it could
count as gym.
Did you wear those
same clothes yesterday?
No. I have two identical sets
of these clothes.
I see. With a stain on the
shirt in the exact same place?
(sighs)
Things aren't good at home.
(ominous drum beating)
Rumble!
Why don't you
head on home, pal.
Bless you.
(grunts)
Huh?
Where'd you
get that scar?
I had it as long as
I can remember. Why?
You call
that a scar?!
This is a scar!
That's your
belly button.
Everybody's got one.
(sobbing): I thought
I was special.
When did this happen?
You sure none of you
guys gave me this?
I'm going through
my bully logbook here,
but I just don't see it.
- Don't be afraid to use your glasses.
You shut up!
Ow!
"January 9, whaled on
Jimbo with this book.
Awaiting results."
(sobs, sniffles)
"Unqualified success."
(metallic clatter)
Why do you have to eat peanuts
in the shower?
Can't start the day without that
fresh- from-the-circus feeling.
(humming
calliope music)
(groans)
Mom, do you have any idea
how I got this scar?
(groans) I was afraid
this day would come.
Ew! You're sitting
on the toilet!
When it's closed,
it's a chair.
When you were little,
I used to take you
to a Mommy-and-Me toddler gym.
You were friends with three
other boys, and I became close
with their moms.
But they were
a bad influence on you.
Ah... such an
innocent time.
Before cooties
ravaged our community.
How come we don't
get together anymore?
The moms and I had a falling
out, which was a shame--
we had been such
good friends.
Whoa!
You don't look like a mom,
you look happy.
We called ourselves
the "Cool Moms."
There's nothing cooler
than calling yourself cool.
Maybe we could
get back together.
Awesome! I'll get
the white wine.
You can't buy white wine!
Why not? Are you
having red meat?
Oh! Are you through
with the chair?
I've got to do the taxes.
It's all yours.
(mumbling):
...number of dependents, three.
Um, add to line 13...
Hmm, better check
last year's return.
Hm.
Seven years.
A lot of memories.
Talking, chatting.
Remember how
we used to reminisce?
Mm-hmm.
Mm-hmm.
Mm-hmm.
You know who was really happy to
get back together? Our husbands!
Been a while since our
wives got together, huh?
Mm. Whatever.
(snorts)
Why are we
getting together again?
I was so happy
when it stopped.
Let's just shut up and get
through this, all right?
(Homer smacking lips
like ticking clock)
Homer, stop doing that.
(smacking lips
like ticking clock)
Homer!
(text message alert ringing)
Ooh, I got a text!
I got a text.
Are you gonna
open it?
No, that page isn't optimized
for cell phone use...
Why am I
talking to you?!
Because you're my best
friend in the room.
BART:
Wow! We all have
the same scar!
So how'd you get yours?
My mom won't tell me.
My mom will tell me
how my dad is in bed,
but not about this.
Ever do a cold drop
out of a tree house?
Only, like, every day.
More like
all day every day.
(loud grunting)
BART:
Cowabunga...!
(laughter)
(coughing)
Check out my gnarly
backwards foot!
(laughter)
(slowly stops laughing)
(groans)
(laughter)
I said, "For the price
of this coffee,
I should have just
flown to Brazil."
(laughter)
Anyone see a good
beer commercial lately?
Asinine. Everything
you say is asinine.
Those dudes
were intense.
I'm glad you had fun,
because we're all getting
together next week.
Great. Great.
Oh, and, Homie, can you come
home early from work tomorrow
so I can have
a girls' night out?
Sure, I'll stay home and
Skype with the guys at Moe's.
Hey, how you doing, Home...
(distorted buzzing)
Stupid Flanders' Wi-Fi.
(grunts)
Uh, that wasn't the Wi-Fi.
My Bell's palsy's acting up.
(distorted buzzing)
Yeah, it can be tough, but,
you know, I try to stay posit...
(distorted buzzing)
(volume lowering)
(buzzing fades)
I've been dying
to try it.
Marge, who are you cutting
up that chicken for?
The kids aren't here.
Huh? Oh. Myself, I guess.
Who's kicking?
No one. No one's kicking.
Sorry. I'm just not used
to everyone behaving.
Oh, Marge.
If you don't have a life
outside your kids,
how do you expect to be happy?
I've got a great idea.
From now on,
the four of us will get
together every Tuesday.
Go out on a Tuesday?
Who am I, Charlie Sheen?
Fine, I'll do it.
Oh...
(gasps)
Oh...
(humming jaunty tune)
(gasps)
Oh...
"Ion." Hmm.
(gasps)
No.
"Irene Ryan is (gasps)
(tires squeal)
TV's Granny."
(car door closes)
MARGE: Thanks for the ride!
(vehicle drives away)
Hmm? (chuckling)
This is late for Marge.
I assume.
I've never been home
at this hour.
(Santa's Little Helper barking)
MARGE:
Shh, shh, shh,
shh, shh, shh!
Hey, Marge.
Partaking of the grape, were we?
(slurring):
Just a little Merlot...
Mmm... You want to stay
up and talk a while?
Are you sleepy?
I'm not sleepy.
(laughing)
And Anita's family
rented a beach house,
and guess what?
They went to the
beach every day.
Oh, great.
That's great.
But I have to get
to work in the morning.
But I don't want
a beach house.
Sand makes me sad
because it used
to be big rocks.
But not anymore.
Not anymore...
(both sobbing)
Kind of weird,
us all being naked in here.
(sighs)
We're not naked.
Right. Neither am I.
Listen, any of you guys
want to play Old Maid?
Don't be a wuss.
We all did it.
Chicken!
(all clucking)
(all clucking)
If I do it,
you're supposed to stop!
Don't tell a chicken
when to cluck.
You're not the chicken,
I'm the chicken!
Chicken!
(all clucking)
(groans)
Ooh, three!
Bart?
Hey.
(coughing)
They dared me to see
how many TV remotes
I could stick
in my mouth.
We've got to stop Mom
from going out with those women.
Something drove them apart
once before.
And I bet it has something
to do with this scar.
I've seen
this mark before.
On you,
every time you come in.
(laughing)
I believe it had something
to do with Comic Book Guy.
Comic Book Guy? Thanks.
Listen. Are you going
to see him now?
You can give him
some news for me.
Tell him it's
the worst prognosis ever.
(laughing)
Oh! I knew
this day would come.
Although frankly, I thought it
would have been a long time ago.
You are very uncurious
about your body.
All right, Comic Book Guy.
Tell me my origin story.
I will not relive
the horror of that day!
The answer is "no,"
and I can say it
in Na'vi or Klingon,
which are pretty
much the same.
I have some theories on that
which I will share
with you never.
You leave me no choice.
I hold in my hands
a mint-condition copy
of the legendary
Interesting Stories Number 27.
Oh! Oh, the first appearance
of Radioactive Man.
And if you don't tell us
what we want to know...
(cries out)
How do I know that is not
a cheap reprint?
Are you willing
to take that chance?
Yes.
No! No! No!
I'll tell you
what you want to know.
Could we hurry
this up?
I am really uncomfortable
being a girl in this store.
Very well.
I shall tell you
what happened to you and your
friends several years ago.
But for you to understand it,
I must go back a little further.
Our story begins with the
creation of Middle Earth,
as recounted in the Ainulindal
and the Valaquenta.
Behold Melkor,
proudest of the Ainu!
Look, pal,
we've gotta speed this up.
Fine. Children just want to know
what is and not why it is.
(slurping)
Your scar, like Tom Cruise's
last good movie,
was born on
the Fourth of July.
It was seven years ago,
a time when "twilight" meant
the end of the day
and not the most barftastic
horror franchise of all time.
(crying)
(confused jabbering)
Earth's single sun was setting,
and the Mayor began to speak...
Even though most of this town
collaborated with the British,
and we are still in informal
talks to return to their empire,
we all love fireworks!
CROWD:
Yay!
Traditionally,
the Fourth of July fireworks
were operated by the person
most likely
to be sober and dateless.
Once again,
the honor fell to me.
(boom)
(cheering)
This is your TV
for the year, kids.
And the embers is your dinner.
(explosions, crowd exclaiming)
While I was busy tending to
a critical matter
of great delicacy,
you and your diaper-wearing
droogs ruined everything!
(explosions)
(crowd gasping)
(panicked shouts)
(gasps)
(boom)
(scorching hiss)
(boys cry out)
(groans)
And that is when
the four of you
each received
the mark of the sword.
Hmm.
Every Fourth of July
I remember that fallen hero.
God, how I miss you.
So, what's the plan again?
I go to see those other guys,
we blow this junk up,
once again Mom decides that
they're a bad influence on me,
and she stops seeing those
women who make her so happy.
(gasps)
What are you boys doing?
Uh, we're doing
a project on...
uh, uh, uh...
the subject of...
something pertaining to...
here it comes...
Milhouse, I'm getting
tired of waiting.
Can I go home and
think of a lie?
Yes, you may.
Mom...
I'll admit it: I wanted to
create a devastating explosion
to get back my mom.
Aw, Bart, sweetie...
I love you kids
with all my heart,
but damn it,
I need something for myself!
I made you a coffee mug
on Mother's Day!
Isn't that enough?
It's close, but no.
I could light these,
but it wouldn't be the same.
(laughing)
Well, I've put it off
but today I'm finally getting
this garage organized.
(loud explosion)
HOMER (dazed):
Guess I'll put these tools away.
Hang 'em on hooks and such.
So Bart,
the little dickens,
was gonna set off an explosion
to break us up.
Can you believe it?
(giggles)
Actually, we
can believe it.
What are you talking about?
Your son always was the
bad apple of the bunch.
You know nothing about my son
and even less about apples.
(gasps)
(gun cocks, fires)
I remember why I left this group
seven years ago,
and it's why I'm leaving now.
Good day, ladies.
Well, since she's gone...
(all giggle)
Come here, you.
Sorry you broke up
with your friends, Mom.
Oh, I think they were
never my friends.
Maybe true friends
aren't random people
you meet at a
Mommy-and-Me class.
They're random people
you meet in a college dorm.
Maybe Lisa and I
can be friends.
Not with each other,
but with you.
Oh...
Ow!
Ah!
Grr.
Hey, does Dad know you
and the cool moms broke up?
Well, Homer got along so well
with the other dads,
I couldn't break it to him.
Oh. Can we at least
drink beer or something?
Why do you keep
trying to engage us?
Hey-diddily-hi, Homer.
Oh, you beautiful man!
Oh... that feeling
is Mutual of Omaha.
God, you're hilarious.
Shh!
(crow caws)
(gasps)
(school bell ringing)
(Barney belches)
(whistle blows)
(yells)
(beeping)
(playing the blues)
(playing the blues)
Ooh!
(gunfire)
(tires screeching)
(horn honking, Grampa shouts)
D'oh!
(tires screeching)
(grunts)
(alarm clock rings))
(happy music playing)
♪ ♪
(grunting, sighing)
♪ The Simpsons 22x10 ♪
Moms I'd Like to Forget
Original Air Date on January 9, 2011
Dodgeball!
(kids cheering, whooping)
GIRL: Yay, Dodgeball!
We're down to our
final four huckers!
Three wily fourth graders
and one scrappy
fifth gradesman!
To the death!
(kids shouting)
("Pipeline"
by the Ventures playing)
(grunts)
(cheering)
♪ ♪
(bell clangs)
(fireworks whistling, exploding)
♪ ♪
(whooshing)
(rumbling, crackling)
(explosions)
("Pipeline" ends)
(kids shouting)
(grunts)
Ha...
ah... ah...
Where do you want
your ball mark,
face or belly?
How about...
in your dreams!
Hee-yah!
(balls whooshing)
(grunting)
(kids shouting, cheering)
I'm not the coach!
There is no coach!
I just wanted to see
if you were wearing a bra.
Oh. (chuckles)
Your four eyes saw
a lot today, Milhouse.
What's the skinny?
The fifth graders
played a great game.
They got a great
program up there.
Great fans!
But this was
just our day.
Whatever happens, they
can never take away...
Aah! The ball never
touched the ground--
and I caught it!
That means fifth
graders win!
No way!
What a rip!
Shut your gobs!
I only took this
refereeing job
'cause I was cold
and needed a shirt!
(kids cheering, Willie gasping)
(Willie snoring)
(snoring continues)
(Willie grunts)
(kids cheering, Willie snoring)
(ominous music plays)
I hate you fifth graders!
I deem this
victory Pyrrhic!
ALL (chanting):
Pyrrhic! Pyrrhic!
Your response is puerile!
ALL (chanting):
Puerile! Puerile!
(to "The Old Gray Mare"):
♪ There goes the fifth grade ♪
♪ Floatin' down the Delaware ♪
♪ Chewin' on their underwear,
can't afford another pair ♪
♪ Ten days later,
bitten by a polar bear ♪
♪ That's how
the polar bear died. ♪
(groaning, chattering)
How dare they dishonor
the lyrics of "Old Gray Mare"!
How dare they!
(grunting)
Zach! Zach!
Who did this to you?
It was... it was...
the fourth graders!
(dramatic
orchestral music plays)
I like to think my kids would
know how to lose gracefully.
In the fifth grade,
we teach character.
Mike, let's be
adults here.
You're right, Edna.
(coughs):
Fourth sucks.
Oh, that's it!
(bell dings)
(steam hissing)
(screams)
(old-time Western saloon
piano playing)
(grunting)
(vicious yelling)
(yelling)
(grunts)
(grumbles)
Why, I oughta...
Hey, fourth graders,
can you help us
with our fractions?
Oh, wait, you can't.
(laughter)
They ain't even read Where
the Red Fern Grows yet.
(laughter)
That's it!
We challenge you
to a rumble.
Challenge accepted.
This is gonna be great!
A real rumble,
just like in that movie
where the Jets
fought the Sharks.
Hmm...
("Jet Song" from
West Side Story playing)
♪ ♪
Rumble it is!
After school, rain or shine.
(thunder crashing)
Anybody want to wait
for shine?
Yeah. Yeah.
Yeah. Yeah.
Definitely shine.
It's agreed-- no biting,
no throwing rocks,
no face farts,
flying face farts,
backdoor haircuts,
'nad noogies,
moist Michaels, and absolutely
no "Brazilian hardwood."
Is this a rumble
or a harvest dance?
Okay, you want hardwood?
No, no, no, no.
Then let's do this thing.
(angry muttering)
You know, if they
do this regularly,
maybe it could
count as gym.
Did you wear those
same clothes yesterday?
No. I have two identical sets
of these clothes.
I see. With a stain on the
shirt in the exact same place?
(sighs)
Things aren't good at home.
(ominous drum beating)
Rumble!
Why don't you
head on home, pal.
Bless you.
(grunts)
Huh?
Where'd you
get that scar?
I had it as long as
I can remember. Why?
You call
that a scar?!
This is a scar!
That's your
belly button.
Everybody's got one.
(sobbing): I thought
I was special.
When did this happen?
You sure none of you
guys gave me this?
I'm going through
my bully logbook here,
but I just don't see it.
- Don't be afraid to use your glasses.
You shut up!
Ow!
"January 9, whaled on
Jimbo with this book.
Awaiting results."
(sobs, sniffles)
"Unqualified success."
(metallic clatter)
Why do you have to eat peanuts
in the shower?
Can't start the day without that
fresh- from-the-circus feeling.
(humming
calliope music)
(groans)
Mom, do you have any idea
how I got this scar?
(groans) I was afraid
this day would come.
Ew! You're sitting
on the toilet!
When it's closed,
it's a chair.
When you were little,
I used to take you
to a Mommy-and-Me toddler gym.
You were friends with three
other boys, and I became close
with their moms.
But they were
a bad influence on you.
Ah... such an
innocent time.
Before cooties
ravaged our community.
How come we don't
get together anymore?
The moms and I had a falling
out, which was a shame--
we had been such
good friends.
Whoa!
You don't look like a mom,
you look happy.
We called ourselves
the "Cool Moms."
There's nothing cooler
than calling yourself cool.
Maybe we could
get back together.
Awesome! I'll get
the white wine.
You can't buy white wine!
Why not? Are you
having red meat?
Oh! Are you through
with the chair?
I've got to do the taxes.
It's all yours.
(mumbling):
...number of dependents, three.
Um, add to line 13...
Hmm, better check
last year's return.
Hm.
Seven years.
A lot of memories.
Talking, chatting.
Remember how
we used to reminisce?
Mm-hmm.
Mm-hmm.
Mm-hmm.
You know who was really happy to
get back together? Our husbands!
Been a while since our
wives got together, huh?
Mm. Whatever.
(snorts)
Why are we
getting together again?
I was so happy
when it stopped.
Let's just shut up and get
through this, all right?
(Homer smacking lips
like ticking clock)
Homer, stop doing that.
(smacking lips
like ticking clock)
Homer!
(text message alert ringing)
Ooh, I got a text!
I got a text.
Are you gonna
open it?
No, that page isn't optimized
for cell phone use...
Why am I
talking to you?!
Because you're my best
friend in the room.
BART:
Wow! We all have
the same scar!
So how'd you get yours?
My mom won't tell me.
My mom will tell me
how my dad is in bed,
but not about this.
Ever do a cold drop
out of a tree house?
Only, like, every day.
More like
all day every day.
(loud grunting)
BART:
Cowabunga...!
(laughter)
(coughing)
Check out my gnarly
backwards foot!
(laughter)
(slowly stops laughing)
(groans)
(laughter)
I said, "For the price
of this coffee,
I should have just
flown to Brazil."
(laughter)
Anyone see a good
beer commercial lately?
Asinine. Everything
you say is asinine.
Those dudes
were intense.
I'm glad you had fun,
because we're all getting
together next week.
Great. Great.
Oh, and, Homie, can you come
home early from work tomorrow
so I can have
a girls' night out?
Sure, I'll stay home and
Skype with the guys at Moe's.
Hey, how you doing, Home...
(distorted buzzing)
Stupid Flanders' Wi-Fi.
(grunts)
Uh, that wasn't the Wi-Fi.
My Bell's palsy's acting up.
(distorted buzzing)
Yeah, it can be tough, but,
you know, I try to stay posit...
(distorted buzzing)
(volume lowering)
(buzzing fades)
I've been dying
to try it.
Marge, who are you cutting
up that chicken for?
The kids aren't here.
Huh? Oh. Myself, I guess.
Who's kicking?
No one. No one's kicking.
Sorry. I'm just not used
to everyone behaving.
Oh, Marge.
If you don't have a life
outside your kids,
how do you expect to be happy?
I've got a great idea.
From now on,
the four of us will get
together every Tuesday.
Go out on a Tuesday?
Who am I, Charlie Sheen?
Fine, I'll do it.
Oh...
(gasps)
Oh...
(humming jaunty tune)
(gasps)
Oh...
"Ion." Hmm.
(gasps)
No.
"Irene Ryan is (gasps)
(tires squeal)
TV's Granny."
(car door closes)
MARGE: Thanks for the ride!
(vehicle drives away)
Hmm? (chuckling)
This is late for Marge.
I assume.
I've never been home
at this hour.
(Santa's Little Helper barking)
MARGE:
Shh, shh, shh,
shh, shh, shh!
Hey, Marge.
Partaking of the grape, were we?
(slurring):
Just a little Merlot...
Mmm... You want to stay
up and talk a while?
Are you sleepy?
I'm not sleepy.
(laughing)
And Anita's family
rented a beach house,
and guess what?
They went to the
beach every day.
Oh, great.
That's great.
But I have to get
to work in the morning.
But I don't want
a beach house.
Sand makes me sad
because it used
to be big rocks.
But not anymore.
Not anymore...
(both sobbing)
Kind of weird,
us all being naked in here.
(sighs)
We're not naked.
Right. Neither am I.
Listen, any of you guys
want to play Old Maid?
Don't be a wuss.
We all did it.
Chicken!
(all clucking)
(all clucking)
If I do it,
you're supposed to stop!
Don't tell a chicken
when to cluck.
You're not the chicken,
I'm the chicken!
Chicken!
(all clucking)
(groans)
Ooh, three!
Bart?
Hey.
(coughing)
They dared me to see
how many TV remotes
I could stick
in my mouth.
We've got to stop Mom
from going out with those women.
Something drove them apart
once before.
And I bet it has something
to do with this scar.
I've seen
this mark before.
On you,
every time you come in.
(laughing)
I believe it had something
to do with Comic Book Guy.
Comic Book Guy? Thanks.
Listen. Are you going
to see him now?
You can give him
some news for me.
Tell him it's
the worst prognosis ever.
(laughing)
Oh! I knew
this day would come.
Although frankly, I thought it
would have been a long time ago.
You are very uncurious
about your body.
All right, Comic Book Guy.
Tell me my origin story.
I will not relive
the horror of that day!
The answer is "no,"
and I can say it
in Na'vi or Klingon,
which are pretty
much the same.
I have some theories on that
which I will share
with you never.
You leave me no choice.
I hold in my hands
a mint-condition copy
of the legendary
Interesting Stories Number 27.
Oh! Oh, the first appearance
of Radioactive Man.
And if you don't tell us
what we want to know...
(cries out)
How do I know that is not
a cheap reprint?
Are you willing
to take that chance?
Yes.
No! No! No!
I'll tell you
what you want to know.
Could we hurry
this up?
I am really uncomfortable
being a girl in this store.
Very well.
I shall tell you
what happened to you and your
friends several years ago.
But for you to understand it,
I must go back a little further.
Our story begins with the
creation of Middle Earth,
as recounted in the Ainulindal
and the Valaquenta.
Behold Melkor,
proudest of the Ainu!
Look, pal,
we've gotta speed this up.
Fine. Children just want to know
what is and not why it is.
(slurping)
Your scar, like Tom Cruise's
last good movie,
was born on
the Fourth of July.
It was seven years ago,
a time when "twilight" meant
the end of the day
and not the most barftastic
horror franchise of all time.
(crying)
(confused jabbering)
Earth's single sun was setting,
and the Mayor began to speak...
Even though most of this town
collaborated with the British,
and we are still in informal
talks to return to their empire,
we all love fireworks!
CROWD:
Yay!
Traditionally,
the Fourth of July fireworks
were operated by the person
most likely
to be sober and dateless.
Once again,
the honor fell to me.
(boom)
(cheering)
This is your TV
for the year, kids.
And the embers is your dinner.
(explosions, crowd exclaiming)
While I was busy tending to
a critical matter
of great delicacy,
you and your diaper-wearing
droogs ruined everything!
(explosions)
(crowd gasping)
(panicked shouts)
(gasps)
(boom)
(scorching hiss)
(boys cry out)
(groans)
And that is when
the four of you
each received
the mark of the sword.
Hmm.
Every Fourth of July
I remember that fallen hero.
God, how I miss you.
So, what's the plan again?
I go to see those other guys,
we blow this junk up,
once again Mom decides that
they're a bad influence on me,
and she stops seeing those
women who make her so happy.
(gasps)
What are you boys doing?
Uh, we're doing
a project on...
uh, uh, uh...
the subject of...
something pertaining to...
here it comes...
Milhouse, I'm getting
tired of waiting.
Can I go home and
think of a lie?
Yes, you may.
Mom...
I'll admit it: I wanted to
create a devastating explosion
to get back my mom.
Aw, Bart, sweetie...
I love you kids
with all my heart,
but damn it,
I need something for myself!
I made you a coffee mug
on Mother's Day!
Isn't that enough?
It's close, but no.
I could light these,
but it wouldn't be the same.
(laughing)
Well, I've put it off
but today I'm finally getting
this garage organized.
(loud explosion)
HOMER (dazed):
Guess I'll put these tools away.
Hang 'em on hooks and such.
So Bart,
the little dickens,
was gonna set off an explosion
to break us up.
Can you believe it?
(giggles)
Actually, we
can believe it.
What are you talking about?
Your son always was the
bad apple of the bunch.
You know nothing about my son
and even less about apples.
(gasps)
(gun cocks, fires)
I remember why I left this group
seven years ago,
and it's why I'm leaving now.
Good day, ladies.
Well, since she's gone...
(all giggle)
Come here, you.
Sorry you broke up
with your friends, Mom.
Oh, I think they were
never my friends.
Maybe true friends
aren't random people
you meet at a
Mommy-and-Me class.
They're random people
you meet in a college dorm.
Maybe Lisa and I
can be friends.
Not with each other,
but with you.
Oh...
Ow!
Ah!
Grr.
Hey, does Dad know you
and the cool moms broke up?
Well, Homer got along so well
with the other dads,
I couldn't break it to him.
Oh. Can we at least
drink beer or something?
Why do you keep
trying to engage us?
Hey-diddily-hi, Homer.
Oh, you beautiful man!
Oh... that feeling
is Mutual of Omaha.
God, you're hilarious.
Shh!