The Simpsons (1989–…): Season 22, Episode 6 - The Fool Monty - full transcript
After Mr. Burns finds out that he is dying, he has an accident and loses his memory, and all the townspeople use the situation to get their revenge on him.
The.Simpsons.S22E06.HDTV.XviD-LOL
(whirring)
(grunting)
(whooshing)
♪ ♪
(screeching)
(yells)
(panting)
(screeching)
(Bart grunts)
(zapping)
(yells)
♪ The Simpsons 22x06 ♪
The Fool Monty
Original Air Date on November 21, 2010
♪ ♪
PILOT (screams):
We're unbalanced!
It's not fair!
(explosion)
I'd like to call to order
this secret conclave
of America's media empires.
We are here to come up with
the next phony
baloney crisis
to put Americans back
where they belong--
in dark rooms,
glued to their televisions,
too terrified to skip
the commercials.
Well, I think...
NBC, you are here
to listen and not speak!
I think we should go with
a good old-fashioned
public health scare.
(murmuring)
A new disease!
No one's immune!
It's like the summer
of the shark,
except instead of a shark,
it's an epidemic...
and instead of summer,
it's all the time!
(agreeing murmurs)
MAN:
That is smokin'!
Now I hate to be
the guy who derails
what everybody else loves...
He loves being that guy.
But, Janice,
we do have standards.
This can't be
a made-up disease.
The only moral thing to do
is release a deadly virus
into the general public.
We do have something
we've been holding onto,
but it hasn't been tested.
Get over here, NBC.
(chuckling) Well, we certainly
believe in testing,
but I... Oh!
(woozy moan)
(struggling breaths)
Wow. Wow!
Oh, yeah!
So, we've got
our deadly disease.
Now we just have to
blame it on something
that's in every household...
something that people are a
little bit afraid of already.
Housecat Flu is coming, people!
The Center for Disease
Disinformation predicts
with some degree of probability
that the Housecat Flu might
spread in the following
hypothetical outbreak pattern.
(congested coughing)
So petter beware, that warm body
on your lap just might be
ready to destroy
your tender vittles.
(purring)
(screams)
(meows)
Springfielders are advised to
stay tuned for more information
if they experience any of the
following symptoms:
mild thirst, occasional hunger,
tiredness at night...
(clamoring voices)
You know, I don't know when this
was ever a good idea.
(meows)
(meowing)
Hurry up, boy!
We have to burn
everything the cat touched,
before the virus
makes us paranoid!
Homer!
Stop burning!
They have a vaccine!
All right.
We'll get the vaccine.
(yawns)
Homer, did you know
he was in the pile?
I thought he was
an old clump of rags.
(clamoring voices)
Don't worry, people.
We have enough
vaccines for...
one child per family.
(grumbling)
I don't even have a kid
that I admit to having.
Please use your time
in line wisely
to "Sophie's Choice" your child.
(irate grumbling)
What a crook!
This isn't the line
for a movie.
Why are you wearing
that costume?
Because, you see, I am afraid of
needles, but Wolverine is not.
Snikt! Snikt!
(ice cream truck tune plays)
(groans)
Need...
acceptable currency... Ooh...
for delicious treat... Ooh!
(old-fashioned horn honks)
Mr. Burns?
Where's he going?
(tires screeching)
(thudding)
Yes, I'd like 37 snifters
of your influenza syrup.
One for me, one for Smithers
here and the rest for my hounds.
Give him what he wants. He's the
only taxpayer in this town.
But Mr. Mayor, these people
have waited in line.
And dogs can't even
get the disease.
They'll see me take it
and they'll want some.
Yes 'oo will. Yes 'oo will,
you little jelly belly.
Sir, perhaps we should
get out of here,
before people start
resenting you.
Hooh! Hurry up and get in!
I'll drive.
(engine starts)
(tires screech)
(glass shattering)
(crowd clamoring)
Hurry, everyone!
Roll in the shards!
Come on! Like this!
(grunting, glass tinkling)
Healthy.
Gettin' healthy. Ow!
Gettin' healthy...
and very sleepy.
(sighs wearily)
(gasps)
Ahh!
I feel as hail
and hearty as an eohippus.
Eh, Mr. Burns, I did a little
blood work earlier today
and I'm afraid I've got
a bit of hard news.
Spit it out, Doctor!
I haven't got all day.
Eh, you certainly don't.
You see, I'm
afraid you're dying.
(gasping)
Dying?!
Yes. It's a number
of factors, really:
whooping cough, hectic fever,
cancrum otis,
Wellington's ooze, the Lambeth
plague, and skull collapse.
How long do I have?
Five, six weeks tops.
You might live to see
the Wheat-Eared Warbler return
to Swinton Park.
But I wouldn't count on it.
(hard swallow)
You... want me to tell
the employees, sir?
No. It's better that
they hear it from me.
I'll tell them the truth
in the simplest way I know how.
(lively music plays)
Aw, why did Burns
make us all come here?
I bet he's got something
up his sleeve.
I don't like that he hired
a band to play ominous music.
(slow jazz playing)
(microphone feedback)
Good evening. I have very sad
news for all of you.
(grumbling, murmurs)
Or maybe he's going to
jack up our electric rates.
Whew! I will have to
hand-crank my wiener warmer.
Hand-crank my wiener warmer!
The truth is...
I'm dying.
Hell, yeah!
Finally, a break
for the black man!
This better not
be a gag!
It's not!
My days are Roman-numeraled!
(cheering)
Stop this!
Stop this at once, or I'll...
Or what? You're just gonna
die soon anyway!
(laughter)
I'm warning you!
You are making a
very powerful temporary enemy!
Sir, you'd better not
rile them up.
The first course is oysters on the half shell.
(wild slurping)
(grunting)
I see.
I'm well and truly hated.
However, you will
change your tune
when you see the legacy
I'm leaving behind me.
I'm leaving all my money
to an orchard
that will grow inedible
"me"-shaped fruits.
They're as addictive
as they are poisonous.
(melodramatic piano music plays)
Melt his ice sculpture!
(clamoring)
It's starting to drip!
(laughing maniacally)
♪ La-la-la-la-la, la-la-la... ♪
I haven't a friend
in the world.
You have me, sir.
I pay you, Smithers.
No kind of love can come
from one man
paying another.
Well, but there's...
I'll just retire to my bed.
Uh... that's where we put
everyone's coats.
Shred them in the wood chipper,
and use the rags to wax my car.
(grinding)
Why does everyone hate me?
(grinding)
Sir, what are
you doing?
Smithers, I want to die quietly,
on my own terms...
crushing as many of those baby
sea turtles as I possibly can.
Good-bye,
insufficiently cruel world!
(sobbing):
Oh, no...
♪ ♪
(thud)
(grunting)
(thunderclap, zapping)
(zany thudding)
Anthill, wasp nest,
moose poop, Mr. Burns...
Mr. Burns?!
(moans)
My poop stick has
brought him back to life!
But which end?
(gasps)
What do you want?
Come on, man, leave me alone.
Friend?
You my mommy-daddy-puppy?
Whoa! Your brains
have turned to oatmeal!
My name Oatmeal?
This is too weird, man.
(panting):
Wait for Oatmeal!
(groans)
(whimpers)
(grumbles)
Oh! What am I gonna
do with you?
(humming a tune)
Look, I know
you're cool now,
but my dad hates you
more than celery,
and my mom said no new pets,
so I'm hiding you in my room.
Oatmeal accept premise.
MARGE:
Bart, who are you talking to?
(Mr. Burns whines)
And what's all that noise?
Ah, I'm playing with my
Sergeant Activity Doll.
DOLL:
Why not buy another of me?
(door creaks)
Hmm.
Well, okay.
(humming a tune)
(chomping)
Okay, okay!
I'll find you some food.
Me not feel good.
(train whistle blows)
Hey pal, you look like
you lost your best friend.
Mm. He was
more than a friend.
He was the reason I got up
in the morning. (sniffles)
Because he would inject me
with coffee at 6:00 a.m.
in the back of the head.
(sniffles)
(sobbing): My new boss
will never take his place!
New boss, huh?
What's he like?
(sighs)
Oh, a lot like my old boss.
Ruthless.
Went to Yale.
Made a fortune in energy.
Basically hairless.
Oh, yeah.
He likes to stack men naked.
I guess that's a start.
A philanthropist, a
humanitarian, a man of peace...
these are among the people
who've come today
to spit in Montgomery Burns'
open grave.
The fact that Burns'
37-pound body was never found
did nothing to lessen the
salivary salvos.
(gathering spit)
Hold, please.
You may continue.
I hope they use that spit
for a good cause,
like sealing
wedding envelopes.
Or helping a railroad worker
grip his sledgehammer!
Now they're dancing
on his grave!
Dance, you sons of bitches!
Dance like it's me down there!
(spits)
Thank God Mr. Burns
isn't alive to see this.
BART:
Come back!
I'm not finished
giving you your bath!
(grunts)
(gasping)
(grunting)
DOLL:
Attack during their
sacred holiday!
Hmm, apparently Mr. Burns
is in a state of shock
from the trauma
he underwent.
Oh man, this is great!
The most evil man in town
is in our power.
(evil laughter)
He will do my bidding...
at that fantasy football
auction.
And anything else my limited
imagination can come up with.
(sadistic laughter)
Just because Mr. Burns
was mean to you,
that doesn't give you the right
to abuse him when he's helpless.
Marge, it's the golden rule:
treat others the way
they mess with you.
It's not up to you.
We're going to take him
to our moral and civic leaders.
They'll know
the right thing to do.
All those in favor
of treating Mr. Burns
the way he messed
with us, say "aye."
CROWD:
Aye!
People of Springfield!
To quote Shakespeare,
"The quality of mercy
is not strained."
CROWD:
Boo!
You know, it takes a lot
for an eight-year-old to stand
up in front of the whole town!
Eight-year-old? I always
thought you were a midget!
We're called "little people,"
and I'm not one.
People of Springfield,
as a nerd,
I understand your desire
for revenge,
but this sweet, harmless man
is not the same remorseless
monster who tormented us all.
He's close enough!
Yeah, Seaside Heights
ain't Maui,
but, uh, you take
what you can get. Whoa!
(groans)
(chittering)
(zapping)
You done pullin' the wings
off of those bees?
Almost, Mr. Vice President.
May I ask why I'm doing this?
I don't know.
I'm bored.
When my old boss got bored,
he liked to listen
to Thomas Edison reciting
"Mary Had a Little Lamb"
on a wax cylinder.
What do you think I am,
1,000 years old?
I got a myPod
full of Lee Greenwood.
(hums)
(snores)
Now boy, everyone
in town gets Burns
for half an hour
to do as they will.
This town can't teach its kids
or collect its garbage,
but we lead the nation in
pointless revenge.
Amen.
Oh!
Okay, Burnsie,
follow the carrot!
(lively music plays)
Dad! You're gonna
wreck him for everybody!
Don't worry, boy.
Another girder always swings in
for you to walk on right
when you get to the end.
(shudders)
Where's the other girder?
Ow!
Okay, here's your choice:
cash in my hands
or blood on the jerky.
I believe you want
the assistant manager, sir.
Oh, I can't shoot him.
I've got him next.
Well, that is your bad luck,
because he is mine right now.
Come back in half an hour.
He can be your accomplice.
I was going to
take him ice skating.
What was that?
Nothing.
What was that?
Ice skating?
Do you do axels
and Salchows?
What do you do?
(scoffs)
Check out my new dad!
Sorry, lame-o!
It's 2:00, which makes him my
Uncle Ed for an hour.
No, it's Saturday, which makes
him that guy at the Youth Center
who really believes in me.
There's still time for me to
turn my life around, right?
It's not that easy, man!
(sobs)
(doorbell rings)
All yours.
What did you do with him?
Found a way
to use him as a bong.
(gurgling)
(coughs)
(woozy moan)
(sighs)
Dad, Mr. Burns is here
for you again.
(moans)
Already?
A little tired of revenge,
are we?
Yeah, I've done all I can do
in that medium.
All right. Mr. Burns,
I'm going to show you
that not all of us in this town
are vindictive and cruel.
(pumps barrel)
Not today.
I thought,
after all you went through,
you just might want to
spend an hour
in a place where
you felt at home.
Lots of room for friends.
Actually, sir, the man who lived
here didn't have many friends.
But you're a better person
than he ever was.
(hums)
(gasps)
That's me!
Yes, technically it's you.
But like I said,
people change.
And they can also
bloody well change back!
(whimpers)
Daddy's home.
(motor humming)
I don't have time for the
papers, Smithers.
Any terrorist attacks on
American soil today?
I'm sorry, but no.
Oh...
BURNS:
Smithers!
Trading me in
for a younger model, I see.
Mr. Burns!
You're alive!
I'm so happy
I could... hug you!
(scoffs) And me smell like
drugstore cologne
the rest of the day?
I don't think so.
You may hug... my shadow.
(cry of delight)
(ecstatic cries)
(clearing throat)
Oh, Mr. Vice President...
I've loved this time we've spent
in this dormant volcano, but...
You're leaving me,
aren't you?
I... I am.
You realize that every time
I don't get what I want,
Al Qaeda wins?
Can I go now?
Yes.
I just need
to erase your memory.
(zapping)
(grumbles)
(helicopter whirring)
BURNS (over bullhorn):
Attention, insects!
The foot of reckoning
has arrived!
Hey there, Mr. Burns!
For our half hour, I thought
we'd have a picnic in the park.
Silence, you sadistic monster!
I've got my memory back,
and I'm going to wreak a
terrible vengeance.
Taking an idea I got
from a Stephen King book,
I'm going to cover this town
with a dome!
(evil laughter)
It's been done!
Really?
You don't say.
Did you know about this?
Mm-hmm.
I see.
Well, what if I cover
you all with...
a cube of bulletproof
plexiglas?!
Uh, it's pretty much
the same thing.
Plus we could always
dig ourselves out,
although that never seems
to occur to anybody.
Set 'er down, Smithers.
Mr. Burns, you can't hurt us
after all we've done for you.
What the devil
are you talking about?
You were given
six weeks to live,
and you've outlived it!
I think what kept you alive
was that for once in your life
you were helping other people.
Could it be?
Perhaps kindness did
keep me alive.
Young man, would you like
a lemon drop?
Mmm!
(groaning)
(cries)
(pop)
It wasn't kindness that was
keeping me alive,
it was bile
building up inside!
Loathing is my life blood,
and rage my royal jelly!
So yes, thank you,
Springfield, for giving me
the secret to eternal life--
hate!
You're welcome!
What are you doing here?
You were my father
for two hours,
and I'm not letting
this dad get away!
Oh! Preposterous!
I won't be Bismarcked
into fathering anyone!
Listen, old man.
I need someone to
cheer me on in the school play.
And it's gonna be you,
or this copter's goin' down!
You know I'll do it!
Thank God your son can't see
the way you're behaving.
My son?
My son?!
The truth is...
I don't have a son!
Haw-haw!
Haw-haw!
Haw-haw!
That's my boy!
(whirring)
(grunting)
(whooshing)
♪ ♪
(screeching)
(yells)
(panting)
(screeching)
(Bart grunts)
(zapping)
(yells)
♪ The Simpsons 22x06 ♪
The Fool Monty
Original Air Date on November 21, 2010
♪ ♪
PILOT (screams):
We're unbalanced!
It's not fair!
(explosion)
I'd like to call to order
this secret conclave
of America's media empires.
We are here to come up with
the next phony
baloney crisis
to put Americans back
where they belong--
in dark rooms,
glued to their televisions,
too terrified to skip
the commercials.
Well, I think...
NBC, you are here
to listen and not speak!
I think we should go with
a good old-fashioned
public health scare.
(murmuring)
A new disease!
No one's immune!
It's like the summer
of the shark,
except instead of a shark,
it's an epidemic...
and instead of summer,
it's all the time!
(agreeing murmurs)
MAN:
That is smokin'!
Now I hate to be
the guy who derails
what everybody else loves...
He loves being that guy.
But, Janice,
we do have standards.
This can't be
a made-up disease.
The only moral thing to do
is release a deadly virus
into the general public.
We do have something
we've been holding onto,
but it hasn't been tested.
Get over here, NBC.
(chuckling) Well, we certainly
believe in testing,
but I... Oh!
(woozy moan)
(struggling breaths)
Wow. Wow!
Oh, yeah!
So, we've got
our deadly disease.
Now we just have to
blame it on something
that's in every household...
something that people are a
little bit afraid of already.
Housecat Flu is coming, people!
The Center for Disease
Disinformation predicts
with some degree of probability
that the Housecat Flu might
spread in the following
hypothetical outbreak pattern.
(congested coughing)
So petter beware, that warm body
on your lap just might be
ready to destroy
your tender vittles.
(purring)
(screams)
(meows)
Springfielders are advised to
stay tuned for more information
if they experience any of the
following symptoms:
mild thirst, occasional hunger,
tiredness at night...
(clamoring voices)
You know, I don't know when this
was ever a good idea.
(meows)
(meowing)
Hurry up, boy!
We have to burn
everything the cat touched,
before the virus
makes us paranoid!
Homer!
Stop burning!
They have a vaccine!
All right.
We'll get the vaccine.
(yawns)
Homer, did you know
he was in the pile?
I thought he was
an old clump of rags.
(clamoring voices)
Don't worry, people.
We have enough
vaccines for...
one child per family.
(grumbling)
I don't even have a kid
that I admit to having.
Please use your time
in line wisely
to "Sophie's Choice" your child.
(irate grumbling)
What a crook!
This isn't the line
for a movie.
Why are you wearing
that costume?
Because, you see, I am afraid of
needles, but Wolverine is not.
Snikt! Snikt!
(ice cream truck tune plays)
(groans)
Need...
acceptable currency... Ooh...
for delicious treat... Ooh!
(old-fashioned horn honks)
Mr. Burns?
Where's he going?
(tires screeching)
(thudding)
Yes, I'd like 37 snifters
of your influenza syrup.
One for me, one for Smithers
here and the rest for my hounds.
Give him what he wants. He's the
only taxpayer in this town.
But Mr. Mayor, these people
have waited in line.
And dogs can't even
get the disease.
They'll see me take it
and they'll want some.
Yes 'oo will. Yes 'oo will,
you little jelly belly.
Sir, perhaps we should
get out of here,
before people start
resenting you.
Hooh! Hurry up and get in!
I'll drive.
(engine starts)
(tires screech)
(glass shattering)
(crowd clamoring)
Hurry, everyone!
Roll in the shards!
Come on! Like this!
(grunting, glass tinkling)
Healthy.
Gettin' healthy. Ow!
Gettin' healthy...
and very sleepy.
(sighs wearily)
(gasps)
Ahh!
I feel as hail
and hearty as an eohippus.
Eh, Mr. Burns, I did a little
blood work earlier today
and I'm afraid I've got
a bit of hard news.
Spit it out, Doctor!
I haven't got all day.
Eh, you certainly don't.
You see, I'm
afraid you're dying.
(gasping)
Dying?!
Yes. It's a number
of factors, really:
whooping cough, hectic fever,
cancrum otis,
Wellington's ooze, the Lambeth
plague, and skull collapse.
How long do I have?
Five, six weeks tops.
You might live to see
the Wheat-Eared Warbler return
to Swinton Park.
But I wouldn't count on it.
(hard swallow)
You... want me to tell
the employees, sir?
No. It's better that
they hear it from me.
I'll tell them the truth
in the simplest way I know how.
(lively music plays)
Aw, why did Burns
make us all come here?
I bet he's got something
up his sleeve.
I don't like that he hired
a band to play ominous music.
(slow jazz playing)
(microphone feedback)
Good evening. I have very sad
news for all of you.
(grumbling, murmurs)
Or maybe he's going to
jack up our electric rates.
Whew! I will have to
hand-crank my wiener warmer.
Hand-crank my wiener warmer!
The truth is...
I'm dying.
Hell, yeah!
Finally, a break
for the black man!
This better not
be a gag!
It's not!
My days are Roman-numeraled!
(cheering)
Stop this!
Stop this at once, or I'll...
Or what? You're just gonna
die soon anyway!
(laughter)
I'm warning you!
You are making a
very powerful temporary enemy!
Sir, you'd better not
rile them up.
The first course is oysters on the half shell.
(wild slurping)
(grunting)
I see.
I'm well and truly hated.
However, you will
change your tune
when you see the legacy
I'm leaving behind me.
I'm leaving all my money
to an orchard
that will grow inedible
"me"-shaped fruits.
They're as addictive
as they are poisonous.
(melodramatic piano music plays)
Melt his ice sculpture!
(clamoring)
It's starting to drip!
(laughing maniacally)
♪ La-la-la-la-la, la-la-la... ♪
I haven't a friend
in the world.
You have me, sir.
I pay you, Smithers.
No kind of love can come
from one man
paying another.
Well, but there's...
I'll just retire to my bed.
Uh... that's where we put
everyone's coats.
Shred them in the wood chipper,
and use the rags to wax my car.
(grinding)
Why does everyone hate me?
(grinding)
Sir, what are
you doing?
Smithers, I want to die quietly,
on my own terms...
crushing as many of those baby
sea turtles as I possibly can.
Good-bye,
insufficiently cruel world!
(sobbing):
Oh, no...
♪ ♪
(thud)
(grunting)
(thunderclap, zapping)
(zany thudding)
Anthill, wasp nest,
moose poop, Mr. Burns...
Mr. Burns?!
(moans)
My poop stick has
brought him back to life!
But which end?
(gasps)
What do you want?
Come on, man, leave me alone.
Friend?
You my mommy-daddy-puppy?
Whoa! Your brains
have turned to oatmeal!
My name Oatmeal?
This is too weird, man.
(panting):
Wait for Oatmeal!
(groans)
(whimpers)
(grumbles)
Oh! What am I gonna
do with you?
(humming a tune)
Look, I know
you're cool now,
but my dad hates you
more than celery,
and my mom said no new pets,
so I'm hiding you in my room.
Oatmeal accept premise.
MARGE:
Bart, who are you talking to?
(Mr. Burns whines)
And what's all that noise?
Ah, I'm playing with my
Sergeant Activity Doll.
DOLL:
Why not buy another of me?
(door creaks)
Hmm.
Well, okay.
(humming a tune)
(chomping)
Okay, okay!
I'll find you some food.
Me not feel good.
(train whistle blows)
Hey pal, you look like
you lost your best friend.
Mm. He was
more than a friend.
He was the reason I got up
in the morning. (sniffles)
Because he would inject me
with coffee at 6:00 a.m.
in the back of the head.
(sniffles)
(sobbing): My new boss
will never take his place!
New boss, huh?
What's he like?
(sighs)
Oh, a lot like my old boss.
Ruthless.
Went to Yale.
Made a fortune in energy.
Basically hairless.
Oh, yeah.
He likes to stack men naked.
I guess that's a start.
A philanthropist, a
humanitarian, a man of peace...
these are among the people
who've come today
to spit in Montgomery Burns'
open grave.
The fact that Burns'
37-pound body was never found
did nothing to lessen the
salivary salvos.
(gathering spit)
Hold, please.
You may continue.
I hope they use that spit
for a good cause,
like sealing
wedding envelopes.
Or helping a railroad worker
grip his sledgehammer!
Now they're dancing
on his grave!
Dance, you sons of bitches!
Dance like it's me down there!
(spits)
Thank God Mr. Burns
isn't alive to see this.
BART:
Come back!
I'm not finished
giving you your bath!
(grunts)
(gasping)
(grunting)
DOLL:
Attack during their
sacred holiday!
Hmm, apparently Mr. Burns
is in a state of shock
from the trauma
he underwent.
Oh man, this is great!
The most evil man in town
is in our power.
(evil laughter)
He will do my bidding...
at that fantasy football
auction.
And anything else my limited
imagination can come up with.
(sadistic laughter)
Just because Mr. Burns
was mean to you,
that doesn't give you the right
to abuse him when he's helpless.
Marge, it's the golden rule:
treat others the way
they mess with you.
It's not up to you.
We're going to take him
to our moral and civic leaders.
They'll know
the right thing to do.
All those in favor
of treating Mr. Burns
the way he messed
with us, say "aye."
CROWD:
Aye!
People of Springfield!
To quote Shakespeare,
"The quality of mercy
is not strained."
CROWD:
Boo!
You know, it takes a lot
for an eight-year-old to stand
up in front of the whole town!
Eight-year-old? I always
thought you were a midget!
We're called "little people,"
and I'm not one.
People of Springfield,
as a nerd,
I understand your desire
for revenge,
but this sweet, harmless man
is not the same remorseless
monster who tormented us all.
He's close enough!
Yeah, Seaside Heights
ain't Maui,
but, uh, you take
what you can get. Whoa!
(groans)
(chittering)
(zapping)
You done pullin' the wings
off of those bees?
Almost, Mr. Vice President.
May I ask why I'm doing this?
I don't know.
I'm bored.
When my old boss got bored,
he liked to listen
to Thomas Edison reciting
"Mary Had a Little Lamb"
on a wax cylinder.
What do you think I am,
1,000 years old?
I got a myPod
full of Lee Greenwood.
(hums)
(snores)
Now boy, everyone
in town gets Burns
for half an hour
to do as they will.
This town can't teach its kids
or collect its garbage,
but we lead the nation in
pointless revenge.
Amen.
Oh!
Okay, Burnsie,
follow the carrot!
(lively music plays)
Dad! You're gonna
wreck him for everybody!
Don't worry, boy.
Another girder always swings in
for you to walk on right
when you get to the end.
(shudders)
Where's the other girder?
Ow!
Okay, here's your choice:
cash in my hands
or blood on the jerky.
I believe you want
the assistant manager, sir.
Oh, I can't shoot him.
I've got him next.
Well, that is your bad luck,
because he is mine right now.
Come back in half an hour.
He can be your accomplice.
I was going to
take him ice skating.
What was that?
Nothing.
What was that?
Ice skating?
Do you do axels
and Salchows?
What do you do?
(scoffs)
Check out my new dad!
Sorry, lame-o!
It's 2:00, which makes him my
Uncle Ed for an hour.
No, it's Saturday, which makes
him that guy at the Youth Center
who really believes in me.
There's still time for me to
turn my life around, right?
It's not that easy, man!
(sobs)
(doorbell rings)
All yours.
What did you do with him?
Found a way
to use him as a bong.
(gurgling)
(coughs)
(woozy moan)
(sighs)
Dad, Mr. Burns is here
for you again.
(moans)
Already?
A little tired of revenge,
are we?
Yeah, I've done all I can do
in that medium.
All right. Mr. Burns,
I'm going to show you
that not all of us in this town
are vindictive and cruel.
(pumps barrel)
Not today.
I thought,
after all you went through,
you just might want to
spend an hour
in a place where
you felt at home.
Lots of room for friends.
Actually, sir, the man who lived
here didn't have many friends.
But you're a better person
than he ever was.
(hums)
(gasps)
That's me!
Yes, technically it's you.
But like I said,
people change.
And they can also
bloody well change back!
(whimpers)
Daddy's home.
(motor humming)
I don't have time for the
papers, Smithers.
Any terrorist attacks on
American soil today?
I'm sorry, but no.
Oh...
BURNS:
Smithers!
Trading me in
for a younger model, I see.
Mr. Burns!
You're alive!
I'm so happy
I could... hug you!
(scoffs) And me smell like
drugstore cologne
the rest of the day?
I don't think so.
You may hug... my shadow.
(cry of delight)
(ecstatic cries)
(clearing throat)
Oh, Mr. Vice President...
I've loved this time we've spent
in this dormant volcano, but...
You're leaving me,
aren't you?
I... I am.
You realize that every time
I don't get what I want,
Al Qaeda wins?
Can I go now?
Yes.
I just need
to erase your memory.
(zapping)
(grumbles)
(helicopter whirring)
BURNS (over bullhorn):
Attention, insects!
The foot of reckoning
has arrived!
Hey there, Mr. Burns!
For our half hour, I thought
we'd have a picnic in the park.
Silence, you sadistic monster!
I've got my memory back,
and I'm going to wreak a
terrible vengeance.
Taking an idea I got
from a Stephen King book,
I'm going to cover this town
with a dome!
(evil laughter)
It's been done!
Really?
You don't say.
Did you know about this?
Mm-hmm.
I see.
Well, what if I cover
you all with...
a cube of bulletproof
plexiglas?!
Uh, it's pretty much
the same thing.
Plus we could always
dig ourselves out,
although that never seems
to occur to anybody.
Set 'er down, Smithers.
Mr. Burns, you can't hurt us
after all we've done for you.
What the devil
are you talking about?
You were given
six weeks to live,
and you've outlived it!
I think what kept you alive
was that for once in your life
you were helping other people.
Could it be?
Perhaps kindness did
keep me alive.
Young man, would you like
a lemon drop?
Mmm!
(groaning)
(cries)
(pop)
It wasn't kindness that was
keeping me alive,
it was bile
building up inside!
Loathing is my life blood,
and rage my royal jelly!
So yes, thank you,
Springfield, for giving me
the secret to eternal life--
hate!
You're welcome!
What are you doing here?
You were my father
for two hours,
and I'm not letting
this dad get away!
Oh! Preposterous!
I won't be Bismarcked
into fathering anyone!
Listen, old man.
I need someone to
cheer me on in the school play.
And it's gonna be you,
or this copter's goin' down!
You know I'll do it!
Thank God your son can't see
the way you're behaving.
My son?
My son?!
The truth is...
I don't have a son!
Haw-haw!
Haw-haw!
Haw-haw!
That's my boy!