The Simpsons (1989–…): Season 24, Episode 20 - The Fabulous Faker Boy - full transcript

Bart takes piano lessons from a cute Russian girl, Marge tries to teach the girl's father how to drive, and Homer loses the last of his hair.

(exclaiming)

(school bell ringing)

(Barney belches)

(playing the blues)

(playing the blues)

(tires screeching)

D'oh!

(tires screeching)

(grunts)

(Homer moaning)

What the...!
(screams)



Hmm? (sniffs)

Ew, cheap PVC smell.

Oh, no. I'm an action figure!

And I hate action.

Hiddiley-ho,
articulated neighborino.

Beautiful day, isn't it?

Why, it's practically
mint on card.

Shut up, Flanders!

(screams)

(laughs)

This reality ain't all bad.

(blows)

Pastry power, activate.

(laughs)



(groans)

- Whoa!
- (whimpers)

Beep, beep, beep.

(belching)

Homer, give me a yank.

I'm lonely. Typical.

Homer, this isn't
the way to the mall.

The mall?
I thought you said Badass City!

(kids screaming)

(horn honks)

Tokyo drift.

(engine revs, tires squeal)

♪ The Simpsons 24x20 ♪
Fabulous Faker Boy
Original Air Date on May 12, 2013

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
Resync for WEB-DL by Norther

(laughs)

I'm fatality.

- (whoops)
- All right, Dad!

(tires screeching)

(grunting)

(sinister music plays)

HOMER: Hey, put the
chicken one back on.

Urgent message
from Nelson Muntz.

- Go on.
- Haw. Haw.

(groans)

Well, I am going to write
a note back to Mr. Muntz.

Sorry about that. So, Mrs. Simpson,
the reason you're here...

Let me guess. You need
a field trip mom.

A library volunteer?

Someone to Purell the CPR dummy?

Resusci-Kate is just
fine, thank you.

We're here to talk about Bart.

(sighs)

What did he do now?

Oh, today, I'm not here to
talk about what he did.

I'm here to talk
about the future.

(sighs)

What did he do in the future?

I'm not sure what he's planning, although
there is a lot of Internet chatter.

I want to change his character:

less Dennis the Menace,
more Casper the Ghost,

if he were still alive.

What if Bart took music lessons?

Music classes could channel his destructive
impulses into artistic expression.

I myself have been taking
flamenco lessons.

(strums)

(plays flamenco music)

Got it, music lessons.

(grunts)

(playing)

SKINNER (distantly):
Mother!

(muffled):
Right. Right.

Inside.

Oh, stupid clog.

(gasps)

My head hairs!

I'm bald!

Get... get... get in there.

(whoops)

D'oh!

(grunts)

Aw, damn it!

MAN (over TV): Welcome back...
(audience applauds)

to America's Most Tattooed Baby.

Now, if the Lindblads can fit just
one more tattoo on baby Jennifer--

and she's getting pretty
full, I can tell you that--

they win the grand prize
of $100.

So what'll it be?

Walk away! Walk away!

(shouting indistinctly)

TV's gotten so lousy.

Did you ever wonder
if hippopotamuses

think that rhinos are unicorns?

TV's not so bad.

Sweetie... did you ever
think of doing something

a little more creative
with your time?

If you're worried about your Mother's
Day present, it's in the works.

I was thinking something
more artistic.

Something musical.

You could take advantage of a
fantastic musician living right here.

(playing the blues)

That's the kind of riff you can
aim for after years of practice.

We start off with the
fun stuff: music theory.

(giggles)

Don't worry, music theory's just
a fancy word for music math.

(chuckles)

MEL: My dear boy, you undoubtedly
think of the slide whistle

as merely a whistle
that slides.

Let me disabuse you
of that misperception.

(playing complex classical tune)

- Pass.
- Do you have any idea how difficult...

Bye, now.
(whistle sliding down)

(playing complex classical tune)

COMIC BOOK GUY:
Behold!

From the pages of Dune
and Dune Messiah,

Gurney Halleck's beloved zither:

the baliset.

(plays twanging, alien music)

Pass.

(clears throat)

When I die, you will carry on the
tradition of... the Frink-e-min.

(plays electronic tones
that sound like Frink's voice)

Pass.

(dog howling)

Ah, Mr. Homer.

I see you are wearing
the bald man's beret.

- Is it that obvious?
- Oh, yes.

The only thing that screams "I am
hiding hairlessness" more is a goatee.

I'm as smooth as jazz.

(scatting)

Oh... my wife has never seen
my head naked.

Maybe I should wear
a cowboy hat.

A cowboy hat means "I'm
ashamed of my small penis."

Don't even ask me
what this means!

(gunshots)

Yee-haw!

I'm a-compensatin'!

(gunshots)

(beautiful piano music playing)

(buzzer sounds)

(Russian accent): New student.
Sit at piano.

My daughter teach you.
You, mother!

Come to kitchen and see
picture of my dead wife.

- That's okay. I...
- (laughs) No, no, no, no.

She is not dead in picture.

Uh... she is dying.

Let's go, Bart.

(piano playing continues)

(Russian accent):
So, you want lesson?

- Yes. I want lesson.
- I accept your whip.

BART:
A girl who likes candy?

Wow.

(playing beautifully)

So, how much are lessons?

I give you something you want...

(voice deepens):
you give me something I want.

I'm sorry, did my
voice go all evil? (chuckles)

It is common
with Russian accent.

You'd better be asking
for something PC:

pie or cake.

Here's my offer:
my daughter give lessons,

you teach me to drive car.

There might be
some nagging involved.

Deal! Now we toast with vodka.

(glass shatters)

(gulps)

Ah. (grunts)
(glass shatters)

- Now we drive!
- Huh?

Homer, I recommend getting drunk
on my most expensive beer:

Duff Platinum.

Hey, what the...?

But I used the best label paste.

Those two hairs were what
was left of my youth, Moe.

Hey, come on, there's
sexy bald, like, um...

Babar, king of the elephants.

I read his books as a kid.

He married his cousin, Celeste.

That was my takeaway.

Those royal elephants have
trainers to keep them in shape.

Average schmoe like me,
forget it.

Well, let me see
how bald you are.

Whoa... whoa!
Dear Lord.

Here. Oh. You need
this more than I do.

(grunts)

(whimpers)

Just... just what exactly
is this good for?

(groaning)

It's nice when something you plan in
your head for so long comes to fruition.

Where you going, Bart?

Piano lesson.

Ooh, piano lesson.

We put two of those guys up there
just for using a big word.

"Caché" is not a big word.

Clickety clack!
(yelling, groaning)

Wait, wait. I'm not
learning anything.

I'm just going
'cause the teacher's pretty.

Okay. But you'd better steal
bananas for all of us.

I will!

Let me go.

I have a swim lesson
with a gorgeous lifeguard.

- What gender?
- You're not allowed to ask.

Okay. Check your mirrors.

Hands at 10:00 and 2:00.

Slowly back out
of the driveway.

(tires squeal, metal crunches)

Aah!

Mmm...

Daddy said I was a accident.

Okay, let's try again.

(engine revs, tires squeal)

(playing scales)

That is so beautiful.
Did you write it?

These are scales.

Now, memorize:
Every good Boris deserves farm.

Let me try.

Every good booger
deserves flicking.

Your tongue is nimble,

unlike sausage fingers.

Sausage fingers!

Do what I do.

(moans softly)

(playing scales)

♪ Druguyu nevestu

♪ Drugoi iyunya

♪ Drugoi solnechni

♪ Medovyi mesyats...

(knocking)

♪ Yeshche odim sezon

♪ Yeshche odna prichina

♪ Dlya vupi makin'...

Ah...

♪ Dlya makin'...

♪ Whoopee...

Scales!

Lesson over.

(tires screech, glass crunches)

Lesson over.

(Marge groans)

(tires squeal)

(gears grind)
Aah!

What are you doing?

I want to go backwards. Like
Russian economy, under Putin.

(tires screech)

Stop making Putin jokes.

You sound like police... under Putin.
(siren whoops)

Ugh. Speaking of police...

I'm sorry, Officer. I believe
my license is, uh...

...somewhere in these pairs
of easy-fit blue jeans.

Eh? Eh?

That's not the way
American police do things.

Finally.

Someone who knows what a traffic
stop is really all about.

Uh, Chief, don't you think
those jeans are a little tight?

We're all not high-waisted
like you, Lou, okay?

I'm just gonna lie down
in the backseat here.

(grunts, chuckles)

Okay.

All right, the blue knight
is ready for action!

(grunting)

(sighs)

- What's wrong?
- Every note you play

sounds like dying animal
writhing on keys.

Awesome!

I just want to get more students

and help my father
with his dream.

Buying a limo.

He could tell big shots
in the back that,

no, they cannot smoke.

Seriously,
I'm gonna make you proud.

I have hidden talents.

Oh, Bort, if only you make
such a miracle happen...

I would love your
hands forever.

(slowly playing notes)

(intense classical music plays)
(horn honking)

Wait a minute. You can't hear.

(playing continues)

I am so proud.

I would've been happy if
Bart was just a piano mover.

(audience applauds)

Thank you. I owe
it all to Zhenya.

Can you teach my boys?

But no tickling the ivories.
You treat them with respect.

Can you teach my monkey?
(grunting)

Then I can deal with the Musician's
Union instead of the Humane Society.

Much easier to muscle.

Zhenya, I couldn't have
done it without you.

(whispers):
And you.

MARGE:
Bart!

Bart, I've never been
so proud of you.

Never, never, never!

And now I'll always be
at home in a saloon.

Something smells fishy.

Yar, that would be me.

But I agree. There's
something funny here.

- Is it me?
- No!

Oh...

Hey, your baseball cap's one
plastic bump tighter than usual.

What gives?

Okay, guys, here's the deal.

I've gone bald.

- (gasps)
- (gasps)

Then again, who cares?

Yeah, you already
landed a hot wife.

That's the only reason
men evolved hair.

What are you talking about?

You lured Marge in with your hair.
You trapped her with marriage.

You skinned and field-gutted
her by having kids.

Now she's mounted on
your wall for good,

with fake glass eyes
and a rubber tongue.

The way you put it, it sounds
so perfect, but it's not.

You sound seriously depressed.

Why don't we talk
about it over at Moe's?

It's not even noon.

Yeah, I've got
a watch, egghead.

I couldn't help overhearing
your predicament.

Mainly because
my hearing is so great.

- Who are you?
- The answer to your prayers.

Are you my guardian angel?

If so, can you turn a
pumpkin into a chariot?

Even a used Camry would be okay.

No, just a regular
hairless Joe like you.

Been bald since I was 23.

With the money I've saved,
I bought a yacht.

Whoa... You're cool with it?

I haven't even told my wife.

You wait for the right moment,
you show her that glorious dome,

and then you rest it
sweetly on her bosom

and let the kisses
flow like rain.

Wow, is that what
your wife did?

No wife. I just slept with
thousands of bald women.

(laughing)

(Marge humming)

Caught your recital, Bart.

Lisa, isn't it great to have a
musical genius in the family?

Helen Lovejoy,

you always have to stir the pot.

Unlike you, when you make
your lumpy clam chowder.

I guess Bart must be
a musical genius,

because frauds are
always found out.

Always.

My work is done.

Now to reward myself
with a case of wine.

(doorbell buzzes)

Hi, Zhenya.
I'm here for my lesson.

Good to see you, my love.

Sit on porch.

- Are there other people in here?
- Because of your performance,

I win many new students.



Come on. I got to learn my mom's
stripper music by midnight.

But if I got you all these students,
shouldn't you be grateful?

Oh, of course I'm grateful.

Here is cushion for porch chair.

Go to "bata boom."

(humming)

(grumbles)

Mopped myself into a corner.

Oh...

Mom, you'd still be proud of me if
I couldn't play the piano, right?

Of course.

But very, very, very angry

at all the time I wasted.

(gulps)

Gulp? Was that a gulp?

Are you getting a sore throat?

Let me give you
some castor oil.

Hmm...

(gulping)

You'll need your voice
to say, "Thanks, Mom,"

after your next recital.

My wha...?

I signed you up for the 10-And-Below
Talent Show next week. Huh?

You know, I'm almost 11.
It's not really fair.

Bart, when you were
on that stage,

it felt like you were pouring
those notes right into my heart.

Hey, one of those notes could
go to your brain and kill you.

Are you sure you want
to take that chance?

A proud mother always does.

(whimpers)

First of all,
you're over ten years old.

Second, you're clearly
Justin Bieber.

That's another 25 bucks
we'll never see.

Gosh!

♪ Who can make the sun rise?

Why won't anybody tell me?

(crying)
(audience applauds)

(heart beating loudly)

Oh...

I'm sorry.

I was faking it.

(gasps, murmurs)

I lied so I could see Zhenya.

Zhenya. Oh, Zhenya.
Everyone knows Zhenya.

(murmuring)

But there's really only one girl
whose opinion matters to me.

My mom.

I'd like to go home now.

And to think you'd do this
on Mother's Day.

Is it too late to make you
(door shuts) breakfast in bed?

(growling in frustration)

Uh, Mom?

I'm sorry I pretended
to be good at piano.

And I'm really ashamed
that I lied.

(doorbell rings)

Excuse me.

Mrs. Marge, I took
my driver's test.

- Did you pass?
- More or less.

If I eat an orange wedge,
the whole thing's gonna blow.

Well, I'm glad your side
of the deal worked out.

What are you talking about?
Your boy is genius!

No, he cheated.

Marge, in Russia, everyone
succeeds by cheating.

Even Russian dressing
is just Thousand Island.

(gasps)

But your son is a good boy.

He cheated for love,
and he cheated for you.

Thank you!

All right. A chance
to make a new friend.

Listen, sweetie...

it was wrong of me to
force my dreams on you.

Yeah, your generation won't have
any dreams come true.

Sweetie, you're just
gonna be who you are.

Well, who am I?

You are unique,
you are special,

and at some point, that's gonna
come together and work for you.

- I know it.
- Thanks, Mom.

And that means
no punishment, right?

Wrong.

You have to walk
all the way over to Grampa

to take a plate
of cookies I baked.

Here's your new plate, Grampa.

Oh, boy!

There's crumbs on it!

Marge...

(sighs)

I have something to show you.

Is it your impression
of Mr. Burns eating soup?

Because I'm not in the mood.

No, it's something else.

So?

I've always wondered what you were
hiding under your curly locks,

my beautiful yellow melon.

Hair, no hair...

I don't really think
about it. (laughs)

Confidence is so
attractive in a man.

Tell me about it.

Oh, Marge, when you
hold me like that...

Thank you, God.

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
Resync for WEB-DL by Norther

Shh!