The Simpsons (1989–…): Season 3, Episode 19 - Dog of Death - full transcript
The Simpsons wind up regretting paying for an expensive surgery for Santa's Little Helper. He then runs away from home, winds up in the animal shelter, and is adopted by Mr. Burns to become an attack dog.
##Ahh, the Simpsons ##
D'oh!
I don't need
your crummy job.
I won the lottery!
Well, I won the lottery too!
We both won the lottery!
Why don't you
win the lottery too?
Where everybody wins!
Actual odds of winning:
one in 380 million.
The lottery--
exploiter of the poor
and ignorant.
You know, I heard the jackpot's
up to $1 30 million.
$1 30 million?
Did you say $1 30 million?
Yeah.
Wow!
Here's your lottery ticket.
Thank you for knocking over
my inventory.
Come again.
Bart, I need
some lucky numbers fast.
How old are you?
What's your birthday?
No kidding.
What's Lisa's birthday?
What? You don't know
your sister's birthday?
Strap on
your bulletproof vest.
It's time
for another bank run.
If I don't make it...
promise you won't sleep
with my wife.
I promise nothing.
You'll never guess
what happened, Marge.
Are you ready?
I have a feeling
that we may win...
the lottery!
But we never, ever--
Calm down and listen
to me carefully.
Go get all your money--
I buy one lottery ticket a week...
with the girls
at the hair salon.
That's enough excitement for me.
The lottery
is the one ray of hope...
in my otherwise
unbearable life!
Uh, the lottery
and you.
We're on a tight budget.
Promise you won't
get carried away.
Yes, money-- I mean honey.
Ooh! Here comes the news
about the lottery.
Hey, down in front.
The whole state is suddenly
in the grip of lottery fever...
and Springfield is no exception.
In fact, every copy
of ShirleyJackson's The Lottery...
has been checked out
from the library.
The book does not contain
hints on winning the lottery.
It is a chilling tale
of conformity gone mad.
There's one big winner--
our state school system...
which gets
half the profits.
Just think what we can buy
with that money--
history books that know
how the Korean War came out...
and a state-of-the-art
detention hall...
where children are held in place
with magnets.
Magnets--
always with the magnets.
I've never been so sure
of anything in my life.
I am going to win this lottery.
Homer, the odds
are 380 million to one.
Correction: 380 million to 50!
What will you do
with your share, kids?
Bank it.
Give it to the poor.
What do kids know
about spending money?
What about you?
Hmm.
Homer, what did you do,
get a haircut or something?
Look closer, Lenny.
Oh, you're the biggest man
in the world now...
and you're covered
in gold.
1 4-karat gold.
Take a hike, boss.
I'm running things now.
All hail King Homer.
We now take you
to the drawing live.
I've got my tickets.
They're about
to start, Chief.
No, you got
the wrong number.
This is 91 -- 2.
We'll be with you
in a minute, kids.
This could be our ticket
out of here, Mel.
I will now draw
the first winning number.
I've got so many tickets
I can't lose.
The first number is 1 7.
D'oh!
You can still
win money...
if you have
five out of six.
Woo-hoo!
And the second number
is three.
D'oh!
Yeah, I knew
we wouldn't win.
Well, why didn't you
tell the rest of us?
Why did you
keep it a secret!?
If you were 1 7,
we'd be rich.
But no,
you had to be ten.
And the final number is... 49.
38... 49!
Oh, my God. I won.
I won!
Recapping our day's top story:
The winner of today's
state lottery is...
me, Kent Brockman.
Can we get a shot of me?
There you go.
In other news, uh...
a tragic mix-up
today in Cleveland.
Many people killed. Uh...
good-bye!
Oh, well,
we lost the money...
but we've still got
each other.
Hey, the dog's dead.
He's not dead.
Don't say the dog's dead
when he's not.
It's not fair
to toy with people's emotions.
He is dead.
I'll get a shovel.
Well, he's not dead,
but he is awfully sick.
Oh, sure,
the old man's off his rocker.
If Grandpa says he's dead,
he must be alive.
He is alive.
He's wagging his tail.
Dogs wag their tails
for hours after they die.
I'm tired
of this conversation.
Let's talk
about something else.
I'm going home.
Clear.
Clear.
Doctor, he's gone.
This is the part
of the job I hate.
You did the best
you could.
I love animals.
I spend my life saving them,
and they can't thank me.
The parrots can, but--
Let's see what's wrong
with this little fellow.
Hmm.
I'm afraid your dog
has a twisted stomach.
He needs an operation
to correct it...
or he'll die.
How much
will it cost?
Seven hundred and fifty dollars.
Oh, dear.
This is never an easy decision.
Well, I guess
we'll have to talk it over.
What's there
to talk about?
What are we going
to talk over?
Mr. Teeny needs a refill
of his nicotine gum.
We're leaving the hospital.
When's the dog going to get
his operation?
Uh... later.
First I want to tell you...
about the most
wonderful place in the world--
doggie heaven.
In doggie heaven,
there's mountains of bones...
and you can't turn around...
without sniffing
another dog's butt.
All the best dogs
are there--
Old Yeller
and about eight Lassies--
Is there a doggie hell?
There couldn't be
a heaven without a hell.
Who's in there?
Oh... Hitler's dog...
and that dog Nixon had,
what's his name? Chester?
Checkers.
One of the Lassies
is in there too.
The mean one--
the one that mauled Timmy.
Does this have anything to do
with Santa's Little Helper?
Oh, honey,
$7 50 is a lot of money.
We really can't afford
this operation.
You'll let him die?
I know you're upset.
Darn right I'm upset!
Bart, watch your language.
Oh. You did. Sorry.
You're not going to let
our dog die, and that's it!
Lousy, dog-killing
son-of-a--
Well, it will be okay.
We'll get him
a new dog--
one with
an untwistable stomach.
Oh, come on. I'm sorry
but we just can't afford it.
Marge, make him stop.
Oh!
All right, all right,
we'll find a way.
Lousy, manipulative dog.
Uh, Mr. Burns...
I need to borrow money.
Please, do go on.
[ Homer]
I know you're a good man...
and I have a dog
that's very sick.
Oh, please, continue.
I thought maybe you--
Oh.
Well, thanks
for your time.
What makes a man
endanger his job...
and even his life
by asking me for money?
People like dogs,
Mr. Burns.
Dogs are idiots.
If I came into your house...
and started sniffing
at your crotch...
and slobbering
all over your face...
what would you say?
If you did it, sir?
Exactly.
You'd be fit to be tied.
Dogs!
Hmm.
No!
You are not performing
that operation yourself.
But, Marge, it looks so easy.
Just like carving a turkey.
Oh! Oh!
Eww!
Maybe you're right, Marge.
I found a way
we can pay for the operation.
All right!
Hear that, boy?
What do you got, Marge,
insurance scam?
We're just going...
to have to make
a few sacrifices.
Homer, you're going to have
to give up beer for a while.
Bart, you'll have to get
your hair cut for free...
at Springfield Barber College.
No problemo.
I'll give up
my weekly lottery ticket...
and I can stretch
the food budget.
Fried chicken night
will be organ meat night.
Ham night will be spam night,
and pork chop night...
will be chub night.
I don't even know what that is.
Lisa, I'm afraid
we'll have to stop getting...
Encyclopedia Generica
from the grocery store.
But next week is volume four--
Copernicus
through elephantiasis.
We all have
to make sacrifices, dear.
Maggie's baby clothes will have
to last for a little longer.
Marge, I've figured out...
an alternative
to giving up my beer.
Basically, we become a family
of traveling acrobats.
I don't think
you've thought this through.
Good news, Mr. Danielson.
We saved your gamecock...
but he'll never
fight again.
That's what you think.
He'll fight and he'll win.
Clamp.
Wipe.
No!
No!
Come to the light, boy.
Come into the light.
Come on now.
There's a good boy.
Come on. Come on.
Um, Simpson?
Oh, Santa's Little Helper,
you're alive!
We were so worried
about you.
It's times like this...
I'm glad I flunked
out of dental school.
Lousy chub night.
Hey, how come...
he gets meat
and we don't?
You wouldn't want
what he's eating.
It's mostly
snouts and entrails.
Mmm... snouts.
Yes, I'm back.
Kent Brockman
is not the kind of man...
who would leave
a $500,000-a-year job...
because he won a lottery.
I'm a journalist.
He's got all the money
in the world...
but there's one thing
he can't buy.
What's that?
A dinosaur.
I'm not the only one benefiting
from last week's big payoff.
State schools got
their share too.
Here, lottery officials present
Springfield Elementary...
with a brand-new eraser.
One eraser?
I'm used to my government
betraying me.
I was in 'Nam.
I served for--
And speaking of lotteries...
here are the winning numbers
for this week's $40,000 jackpot.
3-6-1 7-1 8-22 and 29.
Oh, no!
Those are my numbers.
If it wasn't for that dog,
I would have won.
For tomorrow, I want you
to write a report...
on Copernicus.
D'oh!
Come on, booze hound.
You want the 25 cents?
Keep singing!
Who's that old rummy?
Before his dog got sick...
that old rummy used to be
my best customer.
Sing it, baby!
My quarter!
Okay, I'll just even
this out and--
Mr. Laswell...
I've done it again.
I know you can't understand me...
but you're a lousy dog
and I hate you.
Not now.
Can't you see I'm reading
a third-rate biography...
of Copernicus I found
at the bus station?
Dumb dog.
Homie, did you
close the gate?
Yes.
Oh, you mean tonight.
The dog will get out.
Bart, close the gate!
Oh, Lisa, close the gate!
Close the gate, Maggie!
Here, boy!
Here, Santa's Little Helper!
Oh...
it's all my fault.
I called him a dumb dog.
Oh, he's gone
and he's never coming back.
Wait! There he is!
No, that's a horse.
Have you found a picture yet?
Not one that
I want the public to see.
Mmm.
Oh.
Mmm.
Oh, dear.
So, recycling...
is our way of giving
Mother Earth a big hug.
Yes, well,
it does sound like fun.
I can't wait to start pawing
through my garbage...
like some
starving raccoon.
Release the hounds.
Well, neighbor...
I see you've got
your running shoes on.
That's a good thing.
What's wrong
with Crippler?
He's getting on, sir.
He's been here
since the late '60s.
I'll never forget the day
he bagged his first hippie.
That young man didn't think
it was too groovy.
I'm looking for something...
in an attack dog--
one who likes...
the sweet, gamey tang
of human flesh.
Why, here's the fellow.
Wiry, fast, firm,
proud buttocks.
Reminds me of me.
Ah, the last one.
D'oh!
As an attack dog...
you'll be expected
to neutralize intruders.
Want to buy some cookies?
If that was
a Girl Scout...
I'd have been bothered
by now.
I know how you feel.
I lost my dog too.
He's in here somewhere.
[ ''Ode toJoy''from Beethoven's
Symphony No. 9 playing ]
Poor Santa's Little Helper.
I'm starting to think
we'll never see him again.
That was his dish...
and that was his leash...
and that's where
he took a whiz on the rug.
Homer, get a hold
of yourself.
Even if he has passed on,
there's no reason to cry.
Remember? Doggie heaven?
Oh, Marge!
There is no such place.
Or...
to put it another way...
there is.
I'm not giving up.
If I have to knock on every door
in this two-bit town...
I'm going to find my dog.
And I'll be right here
watching TV.
Poka, poka, poka.
Poka, poka, poka.
Excellent.
Hello. I'm Kent Brockman.
Excuse me, sir.
I lost my dog.
And you want me
to buy you a new one.
Since I won the lottery...
everybody wants a piece
of Kent Brockman--
homeless this and hungry that.
Gee, I'm sorry, mister.
Sir, your llama
just bit Ted Kennedy.
Good!
I hate to interrupt
your longevity treatment, sir...
but there's a sweet little boy
at the door.
Release the hounds.
Santa's Little Helper!
It's you!
What's the matter, boy?
I'm your buddy.
I love you, boy.
Let me pet him again.
You already petted him
for ten minutes.
I want to pet him again.
You can pet the cat.
The cat?
What's the point?
Good boy,
Santa's Little Helper.
Oh, good boy.
This will never happen again.
You can have anything
you want.
You can sleep on my bed,
you can chew on slippers.
Yeah, he's
a good doggie.
Shh!
D'oh!
I don't need
your crummy job.
I won the lottery!
Well, I won the lottery too!
We both won the lottery!
Why don't you
win the lottery too?
Where everybody wins!
Actual odds of winning:
one in 380 million.
The lottery--
exploiter of the poor
and ignorant.
You know, I heard the jackpot's
up to $1 30 million.
$1 30 million?
Did you say $1 30 million?
Yeah.
Wow!
Here's your lottery ticket.
Thank you for knocking over
my inventory.
Come again.
Bart, I need
some lucky numbers fast.
How old are you?
What's your birthday?
No kidding.
What's Lisa's birthday?
What? You don't know
your sister's birthday?
Strap on
your bulletproof vest.
It's time
for another bank run.
If I don't make it...
promise you won't sleep
with my wife.
I promise nothing.
You'll never guess
what happened, Marge.
Are you ready?
I have a feeling
that we may win...
the lottery!
But we never, ever--
Calm down and listen
to me carefully.
Go get all your money--
I buy one lottery ticket a week...
with the girls
at the hair salon.
That's enough excitement for me.
The lottery
is the one ray of hope...
in my otherwise
unbearable life!
Uh, the lottery
and you.
We're on a tight budget.
Promise you won't
get carried away.
Yes, money-- I mean honey.
Ooh! Here comes the news
about the lottery.
Hey, down in front.
The whole state is suddenly
in the grip of lottery fever...
and Springfield is no exception.
In fact, every copy
of ShirleyJackson's The Lottery...
has been checked out
from the library.
The book does not contain
hints on winning the lottery.
It is a chilling tale
of conformity gone mad.
There's one big winner--
our state school system...
which gets
half the profits.
Just think what we can buy
with that money--
history books that know
how the Korean War came out...
and a state-of-the-art
detention hall...
where children are held in place
with magnets.
Magnets--
always with the magnets.
I've never been so sure
of anything in my life.
I am going to win this lottery.
Homer, the odds
are 380 million to one.
Correction: 380 million to 50!
What will you do
with your share, kids?
Bank it.
Give it to the poor.
What do kids know
about spending money?
What about you?
Hmm.
Homer, what did you do,
get a haircut or something?
Look closer, Lenny.
Oh, you're the biggest man
in the world now...
and you're covered
in gold.
1 4-karat gold.
Take a hike, boss.
I'm running things now.
All hail King Homer.
We now take you
to the drawing live.
I've got my tickets.
They're about
to start, Chief.
No, you got
the wrong number.
This is 91 -- 2.
We'll be with you
in a minute, kids.
This could be our ticket
out of here, Mel.
I will now draw
the first winning number.
I've got so many tickets
I can't lose.
The first number is 1 7.
D'oh!
You can still
win money...
if you have
five out of six.
Woo-hoo!
And the second number
is three.
D'oh!
Yeah, I knew
we wouldn't win.
Well, why didn't you
tell the rest of us?
Why did you
keep it a secret!?
If you were 1 7,
we'd be rich.
But no,
you had to be ten.
And the final number is... 49.
38... 49!
Oh, my God. I won.
I won!
Recapping our day's top story:
The winner of today's
state lottery is...
me, Kent Brockman.
Can we get a shot of me?
There you go.
In other news, uh...
a tragic mix-up
today in Cleveland.
Many people killed. Uh...
good-bye!
Oh, well,
we lost the money...
but we've still got
each other.
Hey, the dog's dead.
He's not dead.
Don't say the dog's dead
when he's not.
It's not fair
to toy with people's emotions.
He is dead.
I'll get a shovel.
Well, he's not dead,
but he is awfully sick.
Oh, sure,
the old man's off his rocker.
If Grandpa says he's dead,
he must be alive.
He is alive.
He's wagging his tail.
Dogs wag their tails
for hours after they die.
I'm tired
of this conversation.
Let's talk
about something else.
I'm going home.
Clear.
Clear.
Doctor, he's gone.
This is the part
of the job I hate.
You did the best
you could.
I love animals.
I spend my life saving them,
and they can't thank me.
The parrots can, but--
Let's see what's wrong
with this little fellow.
Hmm.
I'm afraid your dog
has a twisted stomach.
He needs an operation
to correct it...
or he'll die.
How much
will it cost?
Seven hundred and fifty dollars.
Oh, dear.
This is never an easy decision.
Well, I guess
we'll have to talk it over.
What's there
to talk about?
What are we going
to talk over?
Mr. Teeny needs a refill
of his nicotine gum.
We're leaving the hospital.
When's the dog going to get
his operation?
Uh... later.
First I want to tell you...
about the most
wonderful place in the world--
doggie heaven.
In doggie heaven,
there's mountains of bones...
and you can't turn around...
without sniffing
another dog's butt.
All the best dogs
are there--
Old Yeller
and about eight Lassies--
Is there a doggie hell?
There couldn't be
a heaven without a hell.
Who's in there?
Oh... Hitler's dog...
and that dog Nixon had,
what's his name? Chester?
Checkers.
One of the Lassies
is in there too.
The mean one--
the one that mauled Timmy.
Does this have anything to do
with Santa's Little Helper?
Oh, honey,
$7 50 is a lot of money.
We really can't afford
this operation.
You'll let him die?
I know you're upset.
Darn right I'm upset!
Bart, watch your language.
Oh. You did. Sorry.
You're not going to let
our dog die, and that's it!
Lousy, dog-killing
son-of-a--
Well, it will be okay.
We'll get him
a new dog--
one with
an untwistable stomach.
Oh, come on. I'm sorry
but we just can't afford it.
Marge, make him stop.
Oh!
All right, all right,
we'll find a way.
Lousy, manipulative dog.
Uh, Mr. Burns...
I need to borrow money.
Please, do go on.
[ Homer]
I know you're a good man...
and I have a dog
that's very sick.
Oh, please, continue.
I thought maybe you--
Oh.
Well, thanks
for your time.
What makes a man
endanger his job...
and even his life
by asking me for money?
People like dogs,
Mr. Burns.
Dogs are idiots.
If I came into your house...
and started sniffing
at your crotch...
and slobbering
all over your face...
what would you say?
If you did it, sir?
Exactly.
You'd be fit to be tied.
Dogs!
Hmm.
No!
You are not performing
that operation yourself.
But, Marge, it looks so easy.
Just like carving a turkey.
Oh! Oh!
Eww!
Maybe you're right, Marge.
I found a way
we can pay for the operation.
All right!
Hear that, boy?
What do you got, Marge,
insurance scam?
We're just going...
to have to make
a few sacrifices.
Homer, you're going to have
to give up beer for a while.
Bart, you'll have to get
your hair cut for free...
at Springfield Barber College.
No problemo.
I'll give up
my weekly lottery ticket...
and I can stretch
the food budget.
Fried chicken night
will be organ meat night.
Ham night will be spam night,
and pork chop night...
will be chub night.
I don't even know what that is.
Lisa, I'm afraid
we'll have to stop getting...
Encyclopedia Generica
from the grocery store.
But next week is volume four--
Copernicus
through elephantiasis.
We all have
to make sacrifices, dear.
Maggie's baby clothes will have
to last for a little longer.
Marge, I've figured out...
an alternative
to giving up my beer.
Basically, we become a family
of traveling acrobats.
I don't think
you've thought this through.
Good news, Mr. Danielson.
We saved your gamecock...
but he'll never
fight again.
That's what you think.
He'll fight and he'll win.
Clamp.
Wipe.
No!
No!
Come to the light, boy.
Come into the light.
Come on now.
There's a good boy.
Come on. Come on.
Um, Simpson?
Oh, Santa's Little Helper,
you're alive!
We were so worried
about you.
It's times like this...
I'm glad I flunked
out of dental school.
Lousy chub night.
Hey, how come...
he gets meat
and we don't?
You wouldn't want
what he's eating.
It's mostly
snouts and entrails.
Mmm... snouts.
Yes, I'm back.
Kent Brockman
is not the kind of man...
who would leave
a $500,000-a-year job...
because he won a lottery.
I'm a journalist.
He's got all the money
in the world...
but there's one thing
he can't buy.
What's that?
A dinosaur.
I'm not the only one benefiting
from last week's big payoff.
State schools got
their share too.
Here, lottery officials present
Springfield Elementary...
with a brand-new eraser.
One eraser?
I'm used to my government
betraying me.
I was in 'Nam.
I served for--
And speaking of lotteries...
here are the winning numbers
for this week's $40,000 jackpot.
3-6-1 7-1 8-22 and 29.
Oh, no!
Those are my numbers.
If it wasn't for that dog,
I would have won.
For tomorrow, I want you
to write a report...
on Copernicus.
D'oh!
Come on, booze hound.
You want the 25 cents?
Keep singing!
Who's that old rummy?
Before his dog got sick...
that old rummy used to be
my best customer.
Sing it, baby!
My quarter!
Okay, I'll just even
this out and--
Mr. Laswell...
I've done it again.
I know you can't understand me...
but you're a lousy dog
and I hate you.
Not now.
Can't you see I'm reading
a third-rate biography...
of Copernicus I found
at the bus station?
Dumb dog.
Homie, did you
close the gate?
Yes.
Oh, you mean tonight.
The dog will get out.
Bart, close the gate!
Oh, Lisa, close the gate!
Close the gate, Maggie!
Here, boy!
Here, Santa's Little Helper!
Oh...
it's all my fault.
I called him a dumb dog.
Oh, he's gone
and he's never coming back.
Wait! There he is!
No, that's a horse.
Have you found a picture yet?
Not one that
I want the public to see.
Mmm.
Oh.
Mmm.
Oh, dear.
So, recycling...
is our way of giving
Mother Earth a big hug.
Yes, well,
it does sound like fun.
I can't wait to start pawing
through my garbage...
like some
starving raccoon.
Release the hounds.
Well, neighbor...
I see you've got
your running shoes on.
That's a good thing.
What's wrong
with Crippler?
He's getting on, sir.
He's been here
since the late '60s.
I'll never forget the day
he bagged his first hippie.
That young man didn't think
it was too groovy.
I'm looking for something...
in an attack dog--
one who likes...
the sweet, gamey tang
of human flesh.
Why, here's the fellow.
Wiry, fast, firm,
proud buttocks.
Reminds me of me.
Ah, the last one.
D'oh!
As an attack dog...
you'll be expected
to neutralize intruders.
Want to buy some cookies?
If that was
a Girl Scout...
I'd have been bothered
by now.
I know how you feel.
I lost my dog too.
He's in here somewhere.
[ ''Ode toJoy''from Beethoven's
Symphony No. 9 playing ]
Poor Santa's Little Helper.
I'm starting to think
we'll never see him again.
That was his dish...
and that was his leash...
and that's where
he took a whiz on the rug.
Homer, get a hold
of yourself.
Even if he has passed on,
there's no reason to cry.
Remember? Doggie heaven?
Oh, Marge!
There is no such place.
Or...
to put it another way...
there is.
I'm not giving up.
If I have to knock on every door
in this two-bit town...
I'm going to find my dog.
And I'll be right here
watching TV.
Poka, poka, poka.
Poka, poka, poka.
Excellent.
Hello. I'm Kent Brockman.
Excuse me, sir.
I lost my dog.
And you want me
to buy you a new one.
Since I won the lottery...
everybody wants a piece
of Kent Brockman--
homeless this and hungry that.
Gee, I'm sorry, mister.
Sir, your llama
just bit Ted Kennedy.
Good!
I hate to interrupt
your longevity treatment, sir...
but there's a sweet little boy
at the door.
Release the hounds.
Santa's Little Helper!
It's you!
What's the matter, boy?
I'm your buddy.
I love you, boy.
Let me pet him again.
You already petted him
for ten minutes.
I want to pet him again.
You can pet the cat.
The cat?
What's the point?
Good boy,
Santa's Little Helper.
Oh, good boy.
This will never happen again.
You can have anything
you want.
You can sleep on my bed,
you can chew on slippers.
Yeah, he's
a good doggie.
Shh!