The Simpsons (1989–…): Season 3, Episode 5 - Homer Defined - full transcript
Homer is a hero after averting a nuclear meltdown that he nearly caused, but he doesn't want to tell anyone that he stopped it completely by accident.
##Ahh, the Simpsons ##
D'oh!
Here's good news.
According to this article...
S.A.T. scores are declining
at a slower rate.
I think this paper
is a flimsy hodgepodge...
of pie graphs, factoids
and Larry King.
This is the only paper
in America...
not afraid to tell the truth--
that everything is just fine.
''To me bestest bud Milhouse.
Happy birthday, Bart.''
Bart, that's so sweet.
May I see the card?
''I couldn't afford
to get you a new drum--''
Eww.
Come on.
Open it! Open it!
Uh... maybe
a little later, Bart.
Just 'cause your mom didn't
let you have a party--
We had a lovely time
on Saturday, Milhouse.
I liked the balloons.
I liked the party hats.
What do you mean?
Nothing.
Twins.
Open your present.
They're Krusty the Klown
walkie-talkies!
I'll keep one
and you keep one.
Whenever you want
to talk to me...
call me on the phone...
and tell me to turn on
my walkie-talkie.
I'd like to express my
appreciation for Saturday--
jellybean baskets,
personalized noisemakers--
but the little touches
are what made it enduring.
What's he talking about?
Hey, look at that dog.
Isn't that something?
Wow! Brown.
Whoa! Springfield Elementary,
last stop.
And by the way,
I'd like to say...
applause, applause
to birthday boy Milhouse...
for his totally bitchin' party...
on Saturday!
Milhouse, I think I left
my pants on your roof.
You did have a party.
You didn't invite me.
And I thought
we were best friends.
Sorry, Bart.
Bye, little dudes.
Don't learn anything...
I wouldn't learn.
Ah, Monday morning.
Time to pay...
for your two days
of debauchery...
you hung-over drones.
T.G.I.M., sir.
What did you do
this weekend, Smithers?
I caught up
on my laundry...
wrote a letter
to my mother.
I took Hercules out
to be clipped.
Who the devil is Hercules?
My Yorkshire terrier.
He's tiny.
You know, it's a joke.
Here's a picture of Hurky.
Wheww.
Well, don't you know how
to paint the town red.
May I ask about your weekend?
A bit overly familiar,
but I'll allow it.
I took in a movie.
A piece of filth
featuring a blonde harlot...
who spent half the film
naked as a jaybird.
Give the great unwashed...
a pair of oversized breasts
and a happy ending...
and they'll oink
for more.
What a movie!
And that blonde--
does she have assets!
Heh-heh-heh!
Sounds like my kind of flick.
And how!
Eww! Lemon.
Ugh! Cherry.
Ooh... custard.
Mmm... purple!
Otto, welcome.
Apu, hey.
Got a bad case
of the munchies, man.
Time for a heat-lamp dog.
Did you know there's
a child in your bus?
Good thing you warned me.
I was heading to Mexico.
Call me old-fashioned,
but movies were sexier...
when the actors kept
their clothes on.
Vilma Banky did more
with one raised eyebrow...
than an entire--
Warning.
Problem in sector 7-G.
Good God! Who's
the safety inspector there?
Uh, Homer Simpson, sir.
Simpson, eh?
Good man? Intelligent?
Actually, he was hired
under ''Project Bootstrap.''
Thank you, President Ford.
Huh?
Noise.
Bad noise.
Five minutes
before critical mass.
Critical wha-- ?
Whosever problem this is,
I'm sure they can handle it.
Huh?
It's my problem!
We're doomed!
Sector 7-G
is now being isolated.
My best friend shafted me.
I'll never get over this,
Otto-man.
Sure, you will.
My old lady ran off
and married my brother.
It hurt, but it's a month later,
and I'm sleeping on their couch.
Marguerita...
I want you.
Mr. Devereaux, I can't work
under these conditions.
Have it your way, baby.
You're fired.
Oh, Avery.
Call me Mr. Devereaux.
We interrupt
Search for the Sun for this bulletin.
Forget the hair.
Just give me the blush.
Oh, we're on.
This station has learned
that a crisis is in progress...
at the
Springfield Nuclear Power Plant.
Oh, my Lord!
On the line is plant owner
C. Montgomery Burns.
Oh, hello, Kent.
Right now, skilled technicians...
are calmly correcting a minor,
piffling malfunction...
...but I can assure you
and the public...
that there's absolutely...
no danger whatsoever.
Things couldn't be
more shipshape.
Where's my radiation suit?
How the hell should I know?
People are calling this a meltdown.
That's one of
those annoying buzz words.
We prefer to call it an
''unrequested fission surplus.''
Homie, please, be all right.
Got to think!
Somewhere there's a thingy...
that tells you
how to work this stuff.
The, um... manual!
The manual, right.
Aha!
It's as fat as a phone book!
''Congratulations
on your purchase...
of a Fissionator
1 952 slow fission reactor--''
D'oh! Get to the point.
Ooh, what's this?
D'oh! Who'd have thought
a nuclear reactor...
would be so complicated?
90 seconds to core meltdown.
There may never be another time
to say... I love you, sir.
Oh, hot dog.
Thank you for making
my last few moments...
socially awkward.
Looks like this is the end.
That's all right.
I couldn't have led
a richer life.
After the meltdown,
expect roving bands--
I don't like this program.
Change the channel.
...traffic for hours.
Wheel of Fortune!
I don't understand anything.
When they look up ''stupid''
in a dictionary...
there will be a picture of me.
Dear Lord,
if you spare this town...
from becoming a smoking hole
in the ground...
I'll try
to be a better Christian.
I don't know what I can do.
Um... oh, the next time
there's a canned food drive...
I'll give the poor something
they'd actually like...
instead of old lima beans
and pumpkin mix.
One minute to core meltdown.
Shut up!
Simpson, it's all up to you.
It's show time!
Okay, okay,
think back to your training.
This may well save your life one day.
- Homer?
- Yeah?
This button controls
the emergency override.
In a meltdown, push this button,
and only this button.
Ooh, a side.
- Simpson!
- What?
You see which button?
Yeah, yeah, push the button.
Got it.
This is all your fault!
Got to pick a button.
One potato, two potato--
No, wait.
Bubble gum, bubble gum,
in a dish.
How many pieces do you wish?
No! No!
30 seconds to core meltdown.
I guess there's nothing left...
but to kiss my sorry ass
good-bye.
May I, sir?
Ughh.
These unfortunate people...
will be instantly killed.
This circle, which I am
sad to say we are in...
will experience a slower,
considerably more painful death.
Good Lord!
They called me old-fashioned
for teaching ''duck and cover''...
but who's laughing now?
1 5 seconds to core meltdown.
Eeny, meeny, miney, moe.
Catch a tiger by the toe.
If he hollers, let him go.
Eeny, meeny, miney...
...moe.
All systems returning to normal.
Danger in 7-G neutralized.
Have a nice day.
Whew.
Will I ever
see you again?
Sure, baby.
Next meltdown. Heh.
I'd like to solve the puzzle.
''Three loins in the fountain.''
We've isolated the problem.
Wouldn't you know-- false alarm.
It seems a single wayward crow...
flew into our warning system.
Your point
about nuclear hysteria...
is well taken.
This reporter promises...
to be less vigilant
in the future.
Excellent.
Well, ta.
Smithers, I can still
sell them snake oil.
Now, bring me
a wine spritzer...
and don't be stingy
with the vino.
Yes, sir.
So, Smithers...
it seems you've underestimated
one Homer Simpson...
our next
employee of the month.
Milhouse, a little salt?
Sure.
Ohh!
Ha-ha-ha.
Now we're even
for your party.
Come on,
let's go play.
My mom won't let me
be your friend anymore.
That's why you
couldn't come.
What's she got against me?
She says you're a bad influence.
Bad influence, my butt!
Never listen
to your mother.
She threatened
to cut off my allowance.
Whatever
she's paying you...
I'll double it.
I'm really sorry.
Sir, if you'll recall...
I'm the one who put
a five-percent ceiling...
on the Keogh plan--
You bean counter,
give it up.
Simpson's my man.
Hey, way to save
our lives.
Yeah,
we owe you one.
Well, you know, boys...
a nuclear reactor
is a lot like a woman--
you just read the manual
and press the right button.
Simpson?
Monty Burns.
Come with me.
Homer! Homer! Homer!
Now, now... that will do.
Homer, for your bravery
and skill...
we award you...
this ham,
this plaque...
this discount coupon book...
and my own personal thumbs-up.
Ahh!
Hah!
And to ensure your immortality...
your heroic visage
will be added...
to our wall of fame.
Oh, and what's this?
A congratulatory phone call
from Earvin ''Magic''Johnson?
MagicJohnson?!
Yello.
Is this Homer Simpson?
Yeah.
Homer, I just used
our last time-out...
to call and congratulate you...
on averting nuclear holocaust.
Well, thank you.
If you play on that ankle,
you'll be in pain.
I don't care.
Magic, what if people think
a guy's a hero...
but he was just lucky?
Sooner or later people like that
are exposed as frauds.
Thanks, Magic.
Oh!
Aaaaaaaaaaah!
Aah!
Hee-hee-hee-hee!
Bart,
you're not laughing.
Too subtle?
No, I'm just depressed.
Milhouse's mom won't let me
play with him anymore.
Homer, did you go out
and buy a 20-pound ham?
What's all this?
D'oh!
''For heroic competence.
For narrowly
averting a meltdown...
and proving without question...
that nuclear power
is completely safe.
Employee of the month!''
Oh, Homer!
Ohh.
A role model
in my very own home.
How convenient.
Look, I get enough admiration
and respect at work.
I don't need it
here at home.
How are you enjoying
your ham?
Tastes so bitter,
it's like ashes.
It's actually more
of a honey glaze.
Maybe you ate a clove.
What's your problem, boy?
I had a fight
with Milhouse.
You don't need friends
like that four-eyes.
How Zen.
What?
What is it?
What you doing?
Looking at you with quiet awe.
As long as it's quiet.
Milhouse to Bart.
Milhouse to Bart.
Please don't hate me.
Please?
Ooh, right next to the boss.
Aw, he'll never know who did it.
Ah, Simpson,
there's someone...
I want you to meet--
Aristotle Amadopolis...
owner of Shelbyville's
nuclear power facility.
Huh? What?
Ari's been having
terrible worker problems.
They've lost
their zest for work.
Help them find their
eanae-eharatou-nah-duleve.
Their eanae-haratou-doola what?
We want you to give them
a pep talk...
that turns them
from donut-eating goof-offs...
into Homer Simpsons.
I can't tell them
anything.
Cut the false modesty!
It's tiresome.
Besides, employee of the month
isn't all ham and plaques.
Well, Smithers.
How kind of you
to pay us a visit.
Couldn't help it, sir.
Parking here is terrible.
This man has no love...
for his power plant.
Begone from my sight.
That one's
always been a problem.
One, two, three.
''Community Chest.''
Nah.
Nah.
Ah!
I've won second prize
in a beauty contest.
Collect ten bucks.
Ha, ha!
You're losing.
Bart, don't feed
your sister...
hotels.
Don't worry.
There's tons.
That game
is too old for her.
Go play with Milhouse.
I don't want to.
You haven't made up?
His mom says
I'm a bad influence.
Let's go throw rocks
at that hornets' nest.
Mrs. Van Houten,
I'm Bart's mother.
We met when
the boys drank paint.
I remember.
Please come in.
Marge, I'm sorry...
but I think
it would be better...
if Milhouse
didn't see your son.
Look, I know Bart
can be a handful...
but I also know
what he's like inside.
He's got a spark.
It's not a bad thing.
Of course,
it makes him do bad things.
Well, Marge, the other day...
Milhouse told me
my meat loaf sucks.
He must have gotten that
from your little boy...
because they certainly
don't say that word on TV.
Well, I can't defend
everything he does...
but let's face it.
All Bart and Milhouse have
is each other.
They're too young
for girls...
and they're a popular target
for bullies...
and in the Christmas pageant,
they're always sheep.
Please, please,
let them be friends.
I'll think about it.
So the next time
somebody tells you...
carny folk are good,
honest people...
you can spit
in their faces for me.
If you'll excuse me...
I'm profiling my dad
for the school paper.
I thought I'd follow him around
for a day...
to see what makes him tick.
Aw, that's sweet.
I followed my dad
to a lot of bars too.
One beer, one chocolate milk.
Excuse me,
I have the chocolate milk.
Oh.
What's the matter,
Homer?
Alcohol's
depressing effects...
don't kick in
till closing.
He's a little nervous.
He has to give a speech
on keeping cool in a crisis.
What will I do?!
What will I do?!
I gave a speech once.
I was pretty nervous,
so I used a little trick.
I pictured everyone
in their underwear--
the judge, the jury, my lawyer--
everybody.
Did it work?
I'm a free man.
Milhouse to Bart.
Do you want
to come over and play?
Really?
We can be friends again?
Did your mom die?
Uh... I don't think so.
Well, who cares?
Milhouse, I'll be right there.
Sorry, Maggie.
Game's over.
Hey, Mom!
I'm friends
with Milhouse again.
I knew his mother
would come to her senses.
Thanks for sticking up
for me.
Who says I did it?
Who else would?
Aw...
you be good.
I will.
As I look into this sea
of smiling faces...
I am filled with a sense
of loathing and revulsion.
You are not workers.
You are a pack...
of mangy, cud-chewing,
ugly goats.
Well, you're in for a treat.
We have with us today
a real man.
Behold the glory
that is Homer Simpson.
Uh...
''ladies and...
gentlemen.''
Just picture them
in their underwear.
Whew!
Ahh!
''Grace under pressure... is no--''
Three minutes to meltdown.
Whew! Saved by the bell.
1 5 seconds to core meltdown.
Just do what
you did before.
All right.
Eeny, meeny, miney, moe.
Catch a tiger by toe.
If he hollers, let him go.
Eeny, meeny, miney... moe.
Crisis has been averted.
Everything is super.
Thank you, Homer,
for saving my plant...
with that idiotic rhyming!
Do you even know
what button you pushed?!
Sure-- moe.
Eeny, meeny, miney, moe.
Is Homer a hero?
The answer is no.
I'm Kent Brockman
and that was ''My Two Cents.''
Now, Scott Christian
with ''Laugh and a Half.''
Thanks, Kent.
There was more dumb luck today...
when Police Chief Wiggum
foiled a bank holdup...
without even trying.
It seems the chief
had gone to the bank...
to cash in his penny jar.
...48, 49, 50.
What the-- ?
Ooh!
Good work, Chief.
Just doing my job.
Yes, it seems the chief pulled
a Homer Simpson of his own.
Whoa!
Huh?
A pretzel?
Wow! Looks like
I pulled a Homer.
MagicJohnson coming down the floor.
His feet slip out
from under him!
The ball flies loose,
hits the referee...
goes in the basket!
It's a three-point play!
The Lakers win!
Looks like I pulled a Homer.
Our dad!
Now he belongs to the ages.
Shh!
D'oh!
Here's good news.
According to this article...
S.A.T. scores are declining
at a slower rate.
I think this paper
is a flimsy hodgepodge...
of pie graphs, factoids
and Larry King.
This is the only paper
in America...
not afraid to tell the truth--
that everything is just fine.
''To me bestest bud Milhouse.
Happy birthday, Bart.''
Bart, that's so sweet.
May I see the card?
''I couldn't afford
to get you a new drum--''
Eww.
Come on.
Open it! Open it!
Uh... maybe
a little later, Bart.
Just 'cause your mom didn't
let you have a party--
We had a lovely time
on Saturday, Milhouse.
I liked the balloons.
I liked the party hats.
What do you mean?
Nothing.
Twins.
Open your present.
They're Krusty the Klown
walkie-talkies!
I'll keep one
and you keep one.
Whenever you want
to talk to me...
call me on the phone...
and tell me to turn on
my walkie-talkie.
I'd like to express my
appreciation for Saturday--
jellybean baskets,
personalized noisemakers--
but the little touches
are what made it enduring.
What's he talking about?
Hey, look at that dog.
Isn't that something?
Wow! Brown.
Whoa! Springfield Elementary,
last stop.
And by the way,
I'd like to say...
applause, applause
to birthday boy Milhouse...
for his totally bitchin' party...
on Saturday!
Milhouse, I think I left
my pants on your roof.
You did have a party.
You didn't invite me.
And I thought
we were best friends.
Sorry, Bart.
Bye, little dudes.
Don't learn anything...
I wouldn't learn.
Ah, Monday morning.
Time to pay...
for your two days
of debauchery...
you hung-over drones.
T.G.I.M., sir.
What did you do
this weekend, Smithers?
I caught up
on my laundry...
wrote a letter
to my mother.
I took Hercules out
to be clipped.
Who the devil is Hercules?
My Yorkshire terrier.
He's tiny.
You know, it's a joke.
Here's a picture of Hurky.
Wheww.
Well, don't you know how
to paint the town red.
May I ask about your weekend?
A bit overly familiar,
but I'll allow it.
I took in a movie.
A piece of filth
featuring a blonde harlot...
who spent half the film
naked as a jaybird.
Give the great unwashed...
a pair of oversized breasts
and a happy ending...
and they'll oink
for more.
What a movie!
And that blonde--
does she have assets!
Heh-heh-heh!
Sounds like my kind of flick.
And how!
Eww! Lemon.
Ugh! Cherry.
Ooh... custard.
Mmm... purple!
Otto, welcome.
Apu, hey.
Got a bad case
of the munchies, man.
Time for a heat-lamp dog.
Did you know there's
a child in your bus?
Good thing you warned me.
I was heading to Mexico.
Call me old-fashioned,
but movies were sexier...
when the actors kept
their clothes on.
Vilma Banky did more
with one raised eyebrow...
than an entire--
Warning.
Problem in sector 7-G.
Good God! Who's
the safety inspector there?
Uh, Homer Simpson, sir.
Simpson, eh?
Good man? Intelligent?
Actually, he was hired
under ''Project Bootstrap.''
Thank you, President Ford.
Huh?
Noise.
Bad noise.
Five minutes
before critical mass.
Critical wha-- ?
Whosever problem this is,
I'm sure they can handle it.
Huh?
It's my problem!
We're doomed!
Sector 7-G
is now being isolated.
My best friend shafted me.
I'll never get over this,
Otto-man.
Sure, you will.
My old lady ran off
and married my brother.
It hurt, but it's a month later,
and I'm sleeping on their couch.
Marguerita...
I want you.
Mr. Devereaux, I can't work
under these conditions.
Have it your way, baby.
You're fired.
Oh, Avery.
Call me Mr. Devereaux.
We interrupt
Search for the Sun for this bulletin.
Forget the hair.
Just give me the blush.
Oh, we're on.
This station has learned
that a crisis is in progress...
at the
Springfield Nuclear Power Plant.
Oh, my Lord!
On the line is plant owner
C. Montgomery Burns.
Oh, hello, Kent.
Right now, skilled technicians...
are calmly correcting a minor,
piffling malfunction...
...but I can assure you
and the public...
that there's absolutely...
no danger whatsoever.
Things couldn't be
more shipshape.
Where's my radiation suit?
How the hell should I know?
People are calling this a meltdown.
That's one of
those annoying buzz words.
We prefer to call it an
''unrequested fission surplus.''
Homie, please, be all right.
Got to think!
Somewhere there's a thingy...
that tells you
how to work this stuff.
The, um... manual!
The manual, right.
Aha!
It's as fat as a phone book!
''Congratulations
on your purchase...
of a Fissionator
1 952 slow fission reactor--''
D'oh! Get to the point.
Ooh, what's this?
D'oh! Who'd have thought
a nuclear reactor...
would be so complicated?
90 seconds to core meltdown.
There may never be another time
to say... I love you, sir.
Oh, hot dog.
Thank you for making
my last few moments...
socially awkward.
Looks like this is the end.
That's all right.
I couldn't have led
a richer life.
After the meltdown,
expect roving bands--
I don't like this program.
Change the channel.
...traffic for hours.
Wheel of Fortune!
I don't understand anything.
When they look up ''stupid''
in a dictionary...
there will be a picture of me.
Dear Lord,
if you spare this town...
from becoming a smoking hole
in the ground...
I'll try
to be a better Christian.
I don't know what I can do.
Um... oh, the next time
there's a canned food drive...
I'll give the poor something
they'd actually like...
instead of old lima beans
and pumpkin mix.
One minute to core meltdown.
Shut up!
Simpson, it's all up to you.
It's show time!
Okay, okay,
think back to your training.
This may well save your life one day.
- Homer?
- Yeah?
This button controls
the emergency override.
In a meltdown, push this button,
and only this button.
Ooh, a side.
- Simpson!
- What?
You see which button?
Yeah, yeah, push the button.
Got it.
This is all your fault!
Got to pick a button.
One potato, two potato--
No, wait.
Bubble gum, bubble gum,
in a dish.
How many pieces do you wish?
No! No!
30 seconds to core meltdown.
I guess there's nothing left...
but to kiss my sorry ass
good-bye.
May I, sir?
Ughh.
These unfortunate people...
will be instantly killed.
This circle, which I am
sad to say we are in...
will experience a slower,
considerably more painful death.
Good Lord!
They called me old-fashioned
for teaching ''duck and cover''...
but who's laughing now?
1 5 seconds to core meltdown.
Eeny, meeny, miney, moe.
Catch a tiger by the toe.
If he hollers, let him go.
Eeny, meeny, miney...
...moe.
All systems returning to normal.
Danger in 7-G neutralized.
Have a nice day.
Whew.
Will I ever
see you again?
Sure, baby.
Next meltdown. Heh.
I'd like to solve the puzzle.
''Three loins in the fountain.''
We've isolated the problem.
Wouldn't you know-- false alarm.
It seems a single wayward crow...
flew into our warning system.
Your point
about nuclear hysteria...
is well taken.
This reporter promises...
to be less vigilant
in the future.
Excellent.
Well, ta.
Smithers, I can still
sell them snake oil.
Now, bring me
a wine spritzer...
and don't be stingy
with the vino.
Yes, sir.
So, Smithers...
it seems you've underestimated
one Homer Simpson...
our next
employee of the month.
Milhouse, a little salt?
Sure.
Ohh!
Ha-ha-ha.
Now we're even
for your party.
Come on,
let's go play.
My mom won't let me
be your friend anymore.
That's why you
couldn't come.
What's she got against me?
She says you're a bad influence.
Bad influence, my butt!
Never listen
to your mother.
She threatened
to cut off my allowance.
Whatever
she's paying you...
I'll double it.
I'm really sorry.
Sir, if you'll recall...
I'm the one who put
a five-percent ceiling...
on the Keogh plan--
You bean counter,
give it up.
Simpson's my man.
Hey, way to save
our lives.
Yeah,
we owe you one.
Well, you know, boys...
a nuclear reactor
is a lot like a woman--
you just read the manual
and press the right button.
Simpson?
Monty Burns.
Come with me.
Homer! Homer! Homer!
Now, now... that will do.
Homer, for your bravery
and skill...
we award you...
this ham,
this plaque...
this discount coupon book...
and my own personal thumbs-up.
Ahh!
Hah!
And to ensure your immortality...
your heroic visage
will be added...
to our wall of fame.
Oh, and what's this?
A congratulatory phone call
from Earvin ''Magic''Johnson?
MagicJohnson?!
Yello.
Is this Homer Simpson?
Yeah.
Homer, I just used
our last time-out...
to call and congratulate you...
on averting nuclear holocaust.
Well, thank you.
If you play on that ankle,
you'll be in pain.
I don't care.
Magic, what if people think
a guy's a hero...
but he was just lucky?
Sooner or later people like that
are exposed as frauds.
Thanks, Magic.
Oh!
Aaaaaaaaaaah!
Aah!
Hee-hee-hee-hee!
Bart,
you're not laughing.
Too subtle?
No, I'm just depressed.
Milhouse's mom won't let me
play with him anymore.
Homer, did you go out
and buy a 20-pound ham?
What's all this?
D'oh!
''For heroic competence.
For narrowly
averting a meltdown...
and proving without question...
that nuclear power
is completely safe.
Employee of the month!''
Oh, Homer!
Ohh.
A role model
in my very own home.
How convenient.
Look, I get enough admiration
and respect at work.
I don't need it
here at home.
How are you enjoying
your ham?
Tastes so bitter,
it's like ashes.
It's actually more
of a honey glaze.
Maybe you ate a clove.
What's your problem, boy?
I had a fight
with Milhouse.
You don't need friends
like that four-eyes.
How Zen.
What?
What is it?
What you doing?
Looking at you with quiet awe.
As long as it's quiet.
Milhouse to Bart.
Milhouse to Bart.
Please don't hate me.
Please?
Ooh, right next to the boss.
Aw, he'll never know who did it.
Ah, Simpson,
there's someone...
I want you to meet--
Aristotle Amadopolis...
owner of Shelbyville's
nuclear power facility.
Huh? What?
Ari's been having
terrible worker problems.
They've lost
their zest for work.
Help them find their
eanae-eharatou-nah-duleve.
Their eanae-haratou-doola what?
We want you to give them
a pep talk...
that turns them
from donut-eating goof-offs...
into Homer Simpsons.
I can't tell them
anything.
Cut the false modesty!
It's tiresome.
Besides, employee of the month
isn't all ham and plaques.
Well, Smithers.
How kind of you
to pay us a visit.
Couldn't help it, sir.
Parking here is terrible.
This man has no love...
for his power plant.
Begone from my sight.
That one's
always been a problem.
One, two, three.
''Community Chest.''
Nah.
Nah.
Ah!
I've won second prize
in a beauty contest.
Collect ten bucks.
Ha, ha!
You're losing.
Bart, don't feed
your sister...
hotels.
Don't worry.
There's tons.
That game
is too old for her.
Go play with Milhouse.
I don't want to.
You haven't made up?
His mom says
I'm a bad influence.
Let's go throw rocks
at that hornets' nest.
Mrs. Van Houten,
I'm Bart's mother.
We met when
the boys drank paint.
I remember.
Please come in.
Marge, I'm sorry...
but I think
it would be better...
if Milhouse
didn't see your son.
Look, I know Bart
can be a handful...
but I also know
what he's like inside.
He's got a spark.
It's not a bad thing.
Of course,
it makes him do bad things.
Well, Marge, the other day...
Milhouse told me
my meat loaf sucks.
He must have gotten that
from your little boy...
because they certainly
don't say that word on TV.
Well, I can't defend
everything he does...
but let's face it.
All Bart and Milhouse have
is each other.
They're too young
for girls...
and they're a popular target
for bullies...
and in the Christmas pageant,
they're always sheep.
Please, please,
let them be friends.
I'll think about it.
So the next time
somebody tells you...
carny folk are good,
honest people...
you can spit
in their faces for me.
If you'll excuse me...
I'm profiling my dad
for the school paper.
I thought I'd follow him around
for a day...
to see what makes him tick.
Aw, that's sweet.
I followed my dad
to a lot of bars too.
One beer, one chocolate milk.
Excuse me,
I have the chocolate milk.
Oh.
What's the matter,
Homer?
Alcohol's
depressing effects...
don't kick in
till closing.
He's a little nervous.
He has to give a speech
on keeping cool in a crisis.
What will I do?!
What will I do?!
I gave a speech once.
I was pretty nervous,
so I used a little trick.
I pictured everyone
in their underwear--
the judge, the jury, my lawyer--
everybody.
Did it work?
I'm a free man.
Milhouse to Bart.
Do you want
to come over and play?
Really?
We can be friends again?
Did your mom die?
Uh... I don't think so.
Well, who cares?
Milhouse, I'll be right there.
Sorry, Maggie.
Game's over.
Hey, Mom!
I'm friends
with Milhouse again.
I knew his mother
would come to her senses.
Thanks for sticking up
for me.
Who says I did it?
Who else would?
Aw...
you be good.
I will.
As I look into this sea
of smiling faces...
I am filled with a sense
of loathing and revulsion.
You are not workers.
You are a pack...
of mangy, cud-chewing,
ugly goats.
Well, you're in for a treat.
We have with us today
a real man.
Behold the glory
that is Homer Simpson.
Uh...
''ladies and...
gentlemen.''
Just picture them
in their underwear.
Whew!
Ahh!
''Grace under pressure... is no--''
Three minutes to meltdown.
Whew! Saved by the bell.
1 5 seconds to core meltdown.
Just do what
you did before.
All right.
Eeny, meeny, miney, moe.
Catch a tiger by toe.
If he hollers, let him go.
Eeny, meeny, miney... moe.
Crisis has been averted.
Everything is super.
Thank you, Homer,
for saving my plant...
with that idiotic rhyming!
Do you even know
what button you pushed?!
Sure-- moe.
Eeny, meeny, miney, moe.
Is Homer a hero?
The answer is no.
I'm Kent Brockman
and that was ''My Two Cents.''
Now, Scott Christian
with ''Laugh and a Half.''
Thanks, Kent.
There was more dumb luck today...
when Police Chief Wiggum
foiled a bank holdup...
without even trying.
It seems the chief
had gone to the bank...
to cash in his penny jar.
...48, 49, 50.
What the-- ?
Ooh!
Good work, Chief.
Just doing my job.
Yes, it seems the chief pulled
a Homer Simpson of his own.
Whoa!
Huh?
A pretzel?
Wow! Looks like
I pulled a Homer.
MagicJohnson coming down the floor.
His feet slip out
from under him!
The ball flies loose,
hits the referee...
goes in the basket!
It's a three-point play!
The Lakers win!
Looks like I pulled a Homer.
Our dad!
Now he belongs to the ages.
Shh!