The Simpsons (1989–…): Season 34, Episode 14 - Carl Carlson Rides Again - full transcript

Marge is making chili?

Con carne?

Dinner for breakfast.

She finally looked
at the suggestion box!

Aw. Aw. Aw!

Marge, where's the
smells I smelled?

This chili was for poor Ned,

after he broke his
arm falling off our roof

when he went up there
to get your baseball hat.

Do you know how
much I paid for that hat?

Ned can't cook for a few weeks,



so I've started a
meal train for him.

"Meal train"?

Homer! A meal train is
when family and friends

set up a schedule to
bring homemade dishes

to people in need.

Hmm. Coming up
with a fake injury

to get obscene amounts
of free food, you say?

No, I don't say!

- Hmm. Hmm.
- And stop stroking your chin like that.

Poor Barney, so sorry to
hear about your treadmill injury.

Yeah, it's my fault for
being so addicted to cardio.

Well, my chicken enchiladas,

which aren't from
the freezer aisle,

should ease your suffering
as only homemade can.



Bless you, ladies.

Let the healing begin.

Remember, Moe,
tomorrow you've got

"foot shredded in
garbage disposal."

Oh, yeah, I'm gonna be
swimming in sympathy meatballs.

This scam is genius.

Yeah, people like doing charity,

but they love posting about it.

We are wretched.

Uh, guys, this has been fun,

but, uh, bowling
season starts in a week.

I didn't think this was
physically possible,

but we're not even
in bowling shape.

I'm jumping off this meal train.

You will be missed.

Mm-hmm.

Haven't
needed a belt in a while.

Well, big old mystery
buckle, it's been a long time.

Yeah!

Ah...

Look, I'm just here

for my friend's kid's
birthday party, okay?

And you're telling me
that I have to put on

other people's funky shoes?

Oh, I wouldn't worry about that.

That spray he
uses... super toxic.

Some might say in-toxic-ating.

So, Carl, you're good with
wearing pre-stank rental shoes?

Oh, no, I own these babies.

Also, my work shoes,
my Crocs, orthotic inserts,

pretty much all my footwear,
own 'em all, free and clear.

Ooh, fancy.

You know, you're kind of sweet,

in a super chatty,
shoe-splainy kind of way.

I'm Naima.

Whoa, now, that is
some serious belly bling.

Oh, this? I needed
something to hold up my pants,

Belt.

Thank you for walking
me through that.

So, Carl, maybe
I'll see you around.

W-Wait!

Give me a chance to show you

why bowling is America's
slowest-dying indoor sport.

I'll even get Franco here to
unbox a new pair of Lane Janes.

Well, it's a good thing you
are cuter than these shoes.

Come on, let me
show you my world.

Oh.

Could I see you again?

Um, how about Friday?

Ooh, we could have
dinner at this place I know,

'cause I own it...

The SoulHouse.

My nephew just
made this commercial.

There's a 14-minute
version on his Soundcloud.

It's really explicit.

Then I'll meet you at SoulHouse.

Where's it at?

It's on our side of town.

Between the Jazz Hole and
the First Springfield AME Church.

Yeah, of course.

Our side. I mean,
where else would it be?

Uh, guys, I just met the one.

The one person here willing
to go out on a date with me.

Wow, way to go.

Someone's not gonna die alone.

So that's why you abandoned us

and made us lose to the
worst team in the league.

Good game.

Bitches.

Wow, that is the most
sexually graphic song

about collard greens
I've ever heard.

Yeah, Naima's really something.

Business degree from
Howard University,

sings in a gospel choir,

and she's in a
Salt-N-Pepa cover band

called "Pepa-N-Pepa." Oh, man.

What if she doesn't think
I'm, you know, "Pepa" enough?

Oh, I get it, like Peppa Pig.

Never mind.

How about a haircut to
boost your confidence?

I got the clippers
set to "Carl."

Nope.

I think this time I'm
gonna switch it up a bit.

If I'm going to make
the right impression,

I need to go somewhere
I've never gone before:

our side of town.

So, which one of these is you?

I have no idea.

Got it. "The Identity
Crisis," number seven.

Thank you, sir. High-top fade.

Tight on the sides. Line it up.

Bartholomew, my man.

You are a regular here?

No one gets it
right like Clarence.

Wow, look at all these
great bald guy options.

I think my head could rock
the Michael Jordan on the top,

but around the sides...
got to be the Ving Rhames.

I can't decide.

Which haircut would this
beautiful woman want to kiss?

You think I can pull
off "The Denzel?"

What you need to pull off is

that country junkyard hubcap
holding up your Dockers.

Yeah, why don't
you put that buckle

back on that manhole
you stole it from?

Who knew there was so much
ribbing at a Black barbershop?

Hmm?

Hmm...

What about this
old-school Kangol?

Dare I Samuel Jackson
my new Denzel?

What's my look? I
don't know. I don't know!

Carl, look, you can tell me.

Is there something going on
that you need to talk about?

No.

Oh, thank God!

But if I was going through

a deep questioning
of my inner self,

do you think I could fix
it with different clothes?

Oh, for sure.

I mean, I was a lost soul

before I found this white
shirt and blue pants.

Let's find the outfit that'll
make Naima look at me

the way that Marge looks at you.

Worried?

Blindly in love.

Who said you could do

a dressing room
montage in my store?

If you're not gonna
buy anything,

then get your
yacht-rock-listening corny asses

back to Starbucks.

Oh, come on, you
got to help my friend.

He needs a new look by tonight.

Huh. What's a square like
you doing with an oval like that?

I get it, the buckle's not cool.

Every time I wear
it I get razzed.

Savagely razzed.

Tell you what, you
trade me that buckle,

I'll take all this wrong
and make it right.

Naima's worth it.

Now, can you make me look
real? You know, authentic.

Yeah, I got the perfect outfit.

Naima, this place is amazing!

- When did you open?
- Um, 75 years ago.

My great-grandparents started
out selling gumbo off of a cart.

They gave free
samples out to the kids,

you know, just poured it
right into their cupped hands.

That cart, it became my
favorite table in the house.

Wow, that's a lot of history,

and, uh, ancestors, and, uh...

flavor.

So, tell me about you.

You know, like, what are
you into besides bowling?

Don't talk about
Moe's. Don't talk about Moe's.

- Lenny!
- Who's Lenny?

Ah, just my friend from Moe's.

Oh, that's cool.

I see you're into
the Black Panthers.

Oh, yeah. Totally.
Wakanda Forever.

No, Huey P. Newton,
the guy that's on your shirt.

Oh, right. Him.

My man, Old Huey P.

1942 to 1989. Early
life and education...

Are you
googling him under the table?

No, I was, uh, just
looking at this dope kale.

Those are collard greens.

Right. I love all
the urban veggies.

Urban veggies?

Okay. You embarrassing
yourself right now.

Look, I'm sorry.

I'm new to all this.

New to being Black?

Yes! I mean, no.

I mean, I'm just trying to
be more convincing at it.

I got the Denzel, I'm wearing
second-hand leather underwear,

and I'm doused in
Michael Jordan cologne

and Michael B.
Jordan aftershave.

Ooh, wow. Okay, there's
a lot to unpack there.

Look, I liked the guy that
I met at the bowling alley,

and I wanted to get
to know him better,

but I don't see how
that's gonna happen

'cause you don't know you.

So take my advice...
It's time to figure that out.

I'll have them wrap
up your oxtails to go.

I was eating what?

Back early, eh? You
know what they say,

"The shorter the date,
the more it went great."

No! It was terrible.

All she wanted to know
about was the real me.

You mean self-reflection?
Who does that?

Yeah, whoa, whoa,
whoa, trust the sign.

Mm-hmm.

I think I know what
she was getting at, but...

See, it's got to do with...

Nah, never mind.

You guys wouldn't understand.

Sure we would.
We're your best friends.

We pee in the same
trough together.

We've melted so much ice.

Just say what you need
to say, eh? We got this.

I'm confused about
my racial identity!

Hey, I know avoidance
slurps when I hear 'em.

No, we're perfectly
comfortable talking about...

Race.

I mean, I can talk about

Race...

all day.

Oh, me, personally,

I don't even see...
Color.

Look, being adopted and
raised by white folks from Iceland,

I've always felt
like an outsider...

Not Icelandic enough,
not Black enough.

I mean, hey, sure,
I'm barfly enough,

but that's not enough.

Hey, barflies have a rich
and storied...

I don't know anything
about my roots!

That stupid old rodeo belt
buckle was the only thing

I ever got from
my birth parents.

The buckle?

But you gave that away.

I know! It-it was a panic swap!

I thought I could get rid of
this sucky feeling of emptiness,

but now it's worse than ever.

If I'm ever going to be with
someone as great as Naima,

then I need to
find out who I am.

And for the first
time in my life,

the answer isn't in this bar.

Carl's never been away
from Moe's this long.

He missed Public
Domain Karaoke Night.

How could I sing "Toot,
Toot, Tootsie, Goodbye!"

without my duet partner?

Well, Carl did open up to
you about some big issues.

Just his identity.

My book club book says
it's important to look at

the discomfort you
felt as an opportunity

to "explore your
unacknowledged privilege."

Oh, buzz words.

Have you even called him?

What am I supposed to say?

Let's start with what
you're not supposed to say.

- "My feelings matter, too."
- Said that.

- "Slavery was a long time ago."
- Thought that.

- "But I love Eddie Murphy."
- Lenny tweeted that.

I just want things
to be normal again.

Oh, that's on the list.

Doesn't the book
have any suggestions

for what I should do?

Hmm. Not to
gesture, not to quote,

not to laugh too hard at,
not to think, not to wear,

not to wear on Halloween,
not to sing along to in the car.

Look, Homer. I know you.

You're never going
to say the right thing,

but that doesn't mean
you should stop trying.

Lenny, are you sure you're okay

with selling your
vintage suspenders

to buy back Carl's buckle?

Well, the doctor says
I should take a break

because of the shoulder
grooves and nipple abrasions.

You guys had the
same idea as me.

You're the best friends a guy
with no sense of self can have!

We're gonna get
that buckle back.

I already sold that buckle.

Aw. Who bought it?

I don't know. Some
white guy who talks funny.

Oh, that could be any of
the weirdos in this town.

- Crinkle me kilt!
- Avast!

Zounds, Horatio.

Damn, this place
gentrified fast.

Look, I don't know
who bought your buckle.

All I know is I call
him the Rich Texan

on account of him
being a rich Texan.

I love buckles. Yeehaw!

While that's doing
its thing, let's talk.

My buckle shows a
cowboy wrestling a bull

and kind of... kissing it?

Oh, that one? Ain't no smooch.

He's biting its
lip. Bulldogging.

I already flipped it.

Aw! You sold it?

To a pal of mine who's
a real buckle-head.

He said it had a heapin' helpin'

of historical heritage.

Do you think the guy who bought
it could help me find my roots?

Hmm. Well, it's a long shot.

Fellas, meet the host
of Finding Your Roots,

Dr. Henry Louis Gates, Jr.

Dr. Gates, you're
a national treasure.

Please, at best I'm
a regional treasure.

That buckle is a stunning
piece of American history.

What's your connection to it?

Well, all I know is that
after my parents died,

it was in my bassinet
when I was dropped off

at the orphanage.

Other than that, my
heritage is a blank slate.

Solving this kind of
life-defining, soul-affirming

historical riddle is the
reason I created this show.

Tell my next guest he's bumped.

Ah, it's probably for the best.

Finding Your Roots.

With Dr. Henry Louis Gates, Jr.

Carl, when you look at this
buckle, what do you feel?

I just want to
know... what gives?

Today, you'll hear
the story that answers

"what gives?"

What got you started on
this journey of discovery?

An amazing woman I met.

Hey, the most awkward
guy I ever dated is on TV.

Ooh, come on,
mention the restaurant.

I felt like such a fool

as I left with my takeout
bag from SoulHouse.

He said
it! Ooh, he said it.

Let me introduce you to Ellis.

Ellis! I bet I'm related to him.

I wasn't supposed
to say that yet, was I?

Just act surprised later.

Turn the page.

From this pre-Civil War
document, we know that

your fourth great-grandfather
was born into slavery

on a ranch in Texas.

On what would become
the first Juneteenth in 1865,

Ellis got word that the
Emancipation Proclamation

had freed the slaves

two years earlier.

Angry and determined,

he leapt onto the wildest
stallion on the ranch

and held on for dear life.

Three days later,
and two states over,

that stallion was broken.

But Ellis, who'd
been born a slave,

was not only free,

now he was a cowboy.

Really? I come from cowboys?

My friend, you
come from a long line of cowboys,

right up to Wyatt, your father.

That's my dad.

And here he is at the
Okmulgee Oklahoma Rodeo.

20 seconds! Unbelievable ride!

What are you gonna do
with your grand prize buckle?

Use it to hold up my Wranglers.

But then I'm going
to pass it on to my kin.

Folks don't always
see us as cowboys,

but when my boy wears
this blue-ribbon belly-badge,

he'll know bull
riding's in his blood.

I finally know who I am.

I'm a Black cowboy.

Uh, that's great, Carl,

but does that mean you're
qualified to be doing this?

Yeah, what the
hell are you doing?

What I was born to do.

Get killed by a
2,000-pound super cow?

Guys, don't worry,
I got the buckle.

Uh...

Doctor, can't you do something?

Sorry, I see this a lot.

Once, I had to pull Laurence
Fishburne out of a jet cockpit

after he found out
his great-uncle was

a Tuskegee Airman.

Naima, you came!

Yeah, I got your suicidal Evite.

Carl, don't do this.

You don't need to
prove anything to me.

No, I need to
prove it to myself.

Bull riding is in my blood.

That is not how blood works!

Now, get off of that monster
before I come over there.

Oh, my God.

Genealogy can be a wild ride.

I did it!

- I'm a cowboy!
- That was crazy.

Carl, you held on for
three whole seconds.

Cowboy Carl!

Uh, is it supposed to do that?

Don't worry, I'll fix that.

My great-great-grandfather
was a doctor in the Civil War.

Get the hell out of here.

One in four cowboys who
settled the Old West was Black.

Oh, and you
know the Lone Ranger?

No, I'm a young person.

Well, he was based on a real
guy, Lawman Bass Reeves.

Maybe it's that you took my
advice and explored your past,

or maybe I just like a man
who does what I tell him,

but I feel very close
to you right now.

Me, too.

Oh, and thanks for the
O-positive, by the way.

So, does this make
me a cowboy, too?

That's not how blood works.