The Simpsons (1989–…): Season 27, Episode 16 - The Marge-ian Chronicles - full transcript

Lisa signs up for an opportunity to be part of a mission to colonize Mars in ten years, and Homer's strategy to use reverse psychology to talk her out of it backfires.

Hmm?

♪ The Simpsons 27x16 ♪
The Marge-ian Chronicles
Original Air Date on March 13,

Hey, Flanders.

Gas up your leaf
blower much?

Chickens?

Since when do you
have chickens?

Oh, about six months.

Well, they've been
driving me crazy.

Get rid of them.
Oh.

Don't let these feathery fellas
ruffle your feathers, fella.

Chickens.



You have yourself a
perfectly good coop,

and that's what
you keep in it?

Oh, Homer,
surely you know

there's nothing tastier
than a fresh-laid egg.

How do you want 'em, boys?

Coddled! Coddled! Coddled!

What is it about boys
and their coddled eggs?

Hmm.

Mm-hmm.

Hmm?

Whoa, so orange.

I'm sorry, I
can't eat these.

Flanders has
freshly-pooped eggs,

orange as a sunset over
a field of ripe Doritos,



while these--

look, I'm just gonna say
what we're all thinking--

store eggs are yellow.

They're yellow eggs,
Marge. Yellow.

Why do you always think
about what you don't have?

Has anyone ever thought
about what they do have?

Have you?
Not that much.

Have you?
Nope!

Have you?

Boy, I won't live long enough
to teach you about sex,

but I'll be damned if I don't
show you how to steal eggs.

Okay, son, stay
sharp in there.

If chickens are known
for two things,

it's bravery and
intelligence.

This is what we're after.

I got one.

Hurry, fat-ass!

How can idiots say
there's no God

when a species that
evolved from dinosaurs

feeds us their
unfertilized babies?

Ugh, if I could lay
eggs like these,

I'd never leave
my bedroom.

The farmer!

Homer Simpson, I am going
to enjoy finding it in my heart

to forgive you for this.

Well, there's no
getting past that.

We may not be able
to steal Flanders' eggs,

but we can steal his idea.

You mean get our
own chickens,

feed them, love them
and eat their eggs?

Check. Mate.

Urban poultry farming
is a great way

to reduce
our carbon footprint.

Or maybe increase it,
I'm not sure.

But they're so cute!

Now, don't get attached.

I'm about to cut them open
to scoop out the eggs.

No, look!

They're already laying.

Now, what lays bacon?

One... two... eggs!

Delicious.
Delicious.

These don't taste right.

You're crazy, these are
the best eggs I've ever eaten.

No.

No, something is missing.

Hmm.

Hmm, Bart's right.

They're not as good as the eggs
we stole from Flanders.

The eggs... we stole...
from Flanders!

You don't think they
tasted so great

because they were
stolen, do you?

Only one way to find out.

My potato chips!

Okay, first, a chip
from the control bag.

Now the stolen bag.

It's true.

Theft equals flavor.

Ah, forget it.

Just take 'em.

You can't just
give them to us!

They only taste good
if we steal them!

Keep chasing!

It improves
the flavor!

Sure, sure, whatever
works for you.

I guess we don't need
our chickens anymore.

Don't worry, I've already
found a research facility

that will raise them humanely.

I wasn't worried
about that.

If you're going to eat the
chickens, don't tell the girl.

Oh, no, these chickens are here
to advance the cause of science.

Look at
all those lab coats.

At Exploration
Incorporated,

our mission is to help humanity
make the next big leap.

That's so
fascinating.

When did you
incorporate?

We are preparing
to launch

the first privately-funded,
manned mission to Mars.

You're going to Mars?

That's incredible.

Uh, yes.

How do you plan to
solve the problem

of eyeball explosion when you
take off your space helmet?

Uh, you leave
your helmet on.

Hmm, these guys
seem legit.

This video will explain
our revolutionary vision.

Human beings are explorers.

It's what we do.

It's who we are.

But since our world holds
no more secrets,

we must journey... to Mars.

Government agencies like NASA
say it will be decades

before we set foot
on the Red Planet.

At Exploration Incorporated,
we're working hard to establish

a human settlement on Mars
ten years from today.

Soon a select group
of colonists

will leave Earth forever

and become the first residents
of another world.

Will you be one of them?

Exploration Incorporated.

Never stop exploring.

What about those Mars nutjobs?

Who wants to take a one-way trip
to a barren, lifeless rock?

Yeah, in a couple
years, we'll have

a perfectly good barren,
lifeless rock right here

This guy gets it.

Well, this mission
really gives me hope.

I'm tired of nothing but
bad news about the future.

Yes, but to travel
to another planet,

knowing you can
never come back,

you'd have to be
pretty sad.

Aniston sad.

I'm not sad,
I'm inspired.

That's why I volunteered
this afternoon.

What?!

The mission leaves
in ten years.

I'll be 18,
and I'm going to Mars.

No way, young lady.

We cannot afford
to send you to Mars.

It's free.

Cheaper than college.

No.
No!

You volunteered to go to Mars
and leave your family?

Forever?

This mission could
save humanity.

What if I was the first person
to set foot on another world?

I'd never be able to hug
my daughter again.

They thought of that.

They give a virtual hug machine
to every family back home.

That does look
pretty snuggly.

No!

I think this could be
my true purpose.

Just let me try out.

They might not even pick me.

I mean, I'd pick me, but...

Absolutely not.

You are grounded.

You are confined
to this planet.

And its moon.

Uh, honey?

A word before you
continue parenting?

What?

In all my years of living
with the female species,

I've learned one thing.

When they want to do
something totally insane,

your only move is
to support them 100%.

Oh, come on, that's ridiculous.

Really? Have you ever
done anything

just because someone
told you not to?

You cannot marry
Homer Simpson.

I forbid it.

Hmm.

And now you got me.

Oh, my gosh.

We both know Lisa's
not going to Mars.

It's just a little
girl's fantasy.

But if you forbid someone
from doing something,

they'll want to do it more.

So we should just
pretend we're cool

with our daughter
abandoning us forever?

Exactly.

It's an old relationship move
I call "turning into the skid."

If you just play along,

sooner or later Lisa will lose
interest in her terrible idea.

You haven't used
that trick on me, have you?

No, no. I learned it from
observing other marriages.

Ones less fantastic than ours.

Hmm, "turning into the skid."

You know, I
looked at a map,

and Mars is just
one planet over.

If you really want to try out
for this mission, I support you.

Really? Thanks, Mom!

If they choose me
to be a colonist,

I could make jazz
the dominant music form

of a whole new planet.

That's exactly
where jazz belongs.

Way to turn into
the skid, baby.

Now watch Lisa lose
interest in Mars,

just as sure
as you gave up

on opening that
G-rated comedy club.

I thought Gentle Jollies
was a great idea.

Oh, not great. Amazing.

Hmm, now that
I think about it,

that idea did have
a lot of problems.

Greetings, candidates.

The testing that begins
today will determine

which of you have the necessary
skills to thrive on Mars.

Think of how satisfying
it will feel

to stand in the
Valles Marineris

and thunder-chug a Blue
Bronco energy drink.

I'm sorry, Blue Bronco?
Wait, thunder-chug?

Blue Bronco
is just one

of this mission's many
corporate partners.

Because this is a privately
funded entrepreneurial mission,

we've teamed up with some of
America's most exciting brands.

We're talking
Mega-Charge Batteries,

Trudge-Rite
Work Boots,

Draft-Pigs.

And who here likes Fig Glutens?

What? The fig seeds get
caught in my adult braces.

Oh, I should not have
given away my dog, man.

Oh, God. Oh, God.
Oh, God. Oh, God.

Oh, it's hurting my...

Oi! I can't feel my...

Principal Skinner?

What brings you
on this mission

to make mankind
a two-planet species?

Mars is the ultimate field trip.

And all they sell at
the gift shop is immortality.

Also, I'm drowning in debt.

Well, I hope to establish a
planet of perfect equality-ment.

On Mars,
you are my servant.

Uh, well, well,
either way is good, really.

And then, finally,

I got to spend some quality time

with the oxygen reclaimers.

You must've felt like
the belle of the ball.

You said if I supported
Lisa's crazy idea,

she'd lose interest.

Oh, Marge.

You'll never understand
the female mind.

We're just getting started.

What more can we do?

I've utilized my male mind
to come up with

a plan so supportive,

Lisa will never want
to do anything again.

What are you guys doing here?

We're trying out
for Mars, too.

We were so inspired
by you being inspired.

A family unit could be
perfect for this mission.

NASA would never
have the guts

to shoot a baby
into space.

And your father is
a former astronaut.

What an honor.

Last time, I almost
killed everybody.

And what did you
learn from that?

Lessons, I guess.

Okay.

Mom, Dad and Bart

don't want to go to Mars.

So this must be some sort of

mind-game reverse
super-fake-out.

Poor Lisa.

She is so faked out.

And all I have to do
is be patient.

Pretty soon, they'll get
sick of this and quit.

I'm getting sick of this.

I think I'll quit soon.

It's just a matter of time.

I wonder which one of these
two guys is the one I quit to?

We will now test your ability

to handle close confinement.

For the next week,

you'll be living in
the Martian Habitat Simulator.

I'll man this station.

Okay, Mom.

Since you're so
excited to go to Mars,

you'll be thrilled
to start on

the hab's daily
maintenance procedures.

"Nutrition Zone
Sterilization Sequence."

That's just kitchen cleanup.

Fun!

No, no, no.

Procedures aren't "fun."

Sure, if you call them
"procedures," they're a bore,

but if you think
of them as "chores,"

they can be a blast!

They're not chores!

They're science!

Ooh, there's
even directions

on how to properly
clean this binder.

Oh, no.

You cannot like this
more than me.

Dinner is served!

I rehydrated it with love.

And recycled toilet water.

So good, Marge!

Well, today I tested nitrogen
levels in our atmosphere.

They were the same
as yesterday.

More toilet carrots, please!

Can't sleep.

My sleeping pod's too small.

They have an expansion mode

for morbidly obese astronauts.

Hmm.

I know we're just here
to fake-support our daughter,

but you're pretty good
at this space junk.

Moms spend their whole lives

obsessing over
unlikely catastrophes.

In space, that's what
you're supposed to do.

The hab study is complete.

To all the male participants,

your monumental incompetence

has sullied and
cheapened space forever.

Now get out.

Good. It's a stupid idea

and I hope everyone dies.

You're letting
the Martians in!

I'm keeping
the jumpsuit.

Marge and Lisa,
congratulations.

You've both passed
with flying colors

and will be named finalists
in our astronaut search.

Marge, you're a revelation.

Most of our candidates are
of the egghead loner variety.

Bookworms, teacher's pets,

friendless middle children,
that sort of thing.

But you display
an amazing ability

to perform repetitive tasks
without getting bored.

Even our robotic arm
gets a little cranky.

Ow!

That's two, Lorraine!

May I talk to you
in private, please?

Admit it: the only reason
you're here is to support me

until I lose
interest and quit.

Well, I'm not going anywhere,

so you can quit.

Maybe I don't
want to quit.

Do you realize what a big deal
it is to be a space colonist?

Yes!

That's why I want to do it!

I think you don't like that
I'm just as good at Mars as you.

Maybe even better.

Ha! Hardly.

All you are is a...

a stay-at-hab space wife!

Hmm.

Well, it looks like
the ego has landed.

You're the last person

I would ever want
to go to Mars with.

In ten years.

That's too bad,

because I'm
going with you.

In ten years.

On Mars, that would
be a door slam!

Sometimes I feel like Lisa
has no respect for me.

I know, I know.

I'm finally
good at something

and she has to make it
into a competition.

That must be
really hard for you.

It is.

I'm so sorry you have
to go through this.

Thank you.

Mom's always trying
to hold me back!

I know, I know.

I can't be her
little girl forever.

That must be
really hard for you.

It is!

I'm so sorry
you have to go through this.

Thank you.

That listening-to-women junk

you taught me really works.

The trick is in the nodding.

Dad, after seeing
Mom and Lisa go at it,

I'm glad our relationship
is about physical abuse,

not psychological.

Me, too, boy.

Aw.

This press conference
was originally scheduled

to introduce our
ten Mars mission finalists.

However, our rivals
at Space Colony One,

a division of Pepperidge Farms,

just announced that their Mars
rocket is nearing completion.

We made a solemn promise
to Fig Glutens

that they would be
the first cookie on Mars.

Therefore, we have moved up
our launch date from 2026 to...

Thursday.

Thursday?

This Thursday?

Are you all ready
to be a part of history?

I wanted to be someone

who's bravely going
to Mars eventually.

I haven't used
my Open Table dining points!

I'm still very much
an alcoholic.

Uh, I-I guess we
should leave, too.

I knew it!
What?

This has all been
an elaborate charade.

You never had the guts
to go to Mars.

Oh, I have the guts.

I once went to a rock concert
by myself in the rain.

It was Loverboy.

Then let's go. To Mars.

Yeah, let's go!

To Mars.

Hmph.
Hmph.

Ladies and gentlemen,

mankind's first
residents of Mars,

powered by Simmer-Time
Dinner Sauces.

Dinner time is Simmer-Time.
For sauce.

They're leaving
in a week?

Mom's my only
good parent.

And Lisa's my only good kid!

Why won't they admit

that neither of them
actually wants to go to Mars?

I'm not giving up yet.

There's got to be a limit
to their stubbornness, right?

T-minus one minute to launch.

D'oh!

Here we go! I guess.

Yep.

We're doing this,
apparently.

I'm sorry
I doubted you, Mom.

There's no one I would
rather go to Mars with.

I love you, sweetie.

I love you, too.

I don't want to go!

This is the stupidest
idea we ever had!

Abort launch!

That's a negative.

I think you're forgetting
the motto of Blue Bronco:

"Let's do this thing."

Twelve...

eleven...

This is not happening.

Do you know how
to run the dishwasher?

Of course not!

Maybe we can use
paper plates!

Where the hell do we get those?

Mom, no!
Marge, no!

...three...

two... one...

Ignition!

It's not a real rocket.

It's the outside
of a real rocket.

We did plan to build
a real rocket.

And that's one thing they can
never take away from us.

That plan is our legacy.

Then why did you move up the
launch if you knew it was fake?

To inspire
the next generation.

And to provide a distraction
while we drove away.

Then why are
you still here?

Our car wouldn't start.

Mom, doesn't it frighten you

that we almost went to Mars
out of sheer stubbornness?

That's what a mother-daughter
relationship is, sweetie.

A series of near-fatal
emotional standoffs.

Okay, but it doesn't
have to be that way.

Surely we can
learn from this.

One day,
we'll figure it out.

On this planet or another.

It's my life!

If I want to leave Mars

and move to Venus,
you can't stop me!

Mom's always trying
to hold me back.

I know, I know.

I can't be her
little girl forever.

That must be
really hard for you.

It is.

Nod-Bot is so sorry you
have to go through this.

Thank you.

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man

Well, that's one
for the win column.

I can't wait to find out
what we're gonna do next.

We should fix racism.

Racism is bad for business.

And that is
racism's fatal flaw.

I'm thinking of an app

that would use the best
algorithms in the world.

Algorithms like that
would be great

for this idea
I've been back-burnering.

It's an ad-supported
restaurant.

You get free food,
but you have to watch ads.

If you want a hamburger,
you watch five ads.

Tater Tots are,
like, three ads.

Have you tried these things?

I've heard about them,
actually, I didn't actually...

They're good.
They're really good.

I love everything
you just said,

but what if it was
a barbershop?

Might be a good idea...

if you're interested
in changing the world!

Shh!