The Simpsons (1989–…): Season 34, Episode 22 - Homer's Adventures Through the Windshield Glass - full transcript
Time stands still for Homer when he flies through his windshield after crashing his car and as his life flashes before his eyes, a magical friend helps him uncover the truth about his marriage.
Aah!
Aah!
What? Whatcha...
D'
Who the hell are these people?
Why you...
My pâté de campagne!
My "Kick me" sign!
How could she?
Why would she?
So many feelings,
all of them anger.
Must drive them away.
Rage belongs on the road.
Where the hell's my phone?
Got to express my rage to
the person who enraged me:
my wife.
Marge, I am so, so,
so, so angry.
Anger emoji, skull emoji,
eggplant emoji,
because I hate eggplant.
Fire, fire, fire. Aah!
A fire-fire-fire hydrant!
Okay, Homer, stay calm.
Your seat belt will save you.
Wha?
Thank God I still got my airbag.
Safety first.
Well, at least I got
shatter-proof glass.
It's shattering!
D'...!
I'm soaring through
the air like an angel,
or a beautiful loogie.
How very majestic the
world looks from up here.
The sky, the ocean,
Ralph.
Bart's bald mommy
is going to die.
That's her problem.
Homer? Yo, big man.
Now's not the time to chill.
What? Who the hell was that?
It's me, Maggie's
Happy Little Elf doll.
Yeah.
She calls you Goobie-Woo.
Of course she does.
That's my damn name.
Okay. Sheesh, Goobie-Woo.
But how are you
talking right now?
That's a little complicated.
You see, I'm a
projection of your psyche,
and you're in the middle of
a very traumatic life event.
Traumatic? What do
you mean? I feel great.
Homer. Homer, what
you're currently experiencing
is called
post-traumatic elation.
Is that like Post Raisin Bran?
Damn it, man, you are
literally in the middle
of a car accident!
What?! Right.
Let me lay this out.
You and me are gonna
use this car ejection
for some self-reflection,
okay, my brother?
And that journey begins with
finding the source
of your anger.
Now, gaze into that
little piece of glass.
I need a safe-deposit
box. Want to know why?
Well, that's why I got into
banking in the first place,
for the thrilling stories.
Well, this morning,
I was on my break
at the nuclear power plant...
So I went and got
myself a bag of chips.
Potato chips.
I feel like I'm at a
story slam right now.
They were so delicious
and salty and chompy,
and before long,
they were all gone.
- No.
- Almost.
There's a twist?
But then I pulled out this,
a chip that looks
exactly like John Travolta.
And that's why I need
a safe-deposit box,
to protect this
treasure forever.
Don't study opera
staging in Vienna, they said.
Work in a bank, they said.
Mr. Simpson,
it looks like your family
already has a safe-deposit box.
Your wife rented it
out over a decade ago.
- Wow, you've got a wife.
- Wha?
Now, I'm not supposed
to show you this,
but lucky for you right
now I'm super high.
"Last will and testament"?
Written by Clarence
Bouvier, your father-in-law.
Marge's dad left a will?
He never told me about that
in the four conversations
we ever had.
It says here he set up a trust
to pay Marge Simpson,
ooh, $1,000 a month.
A thousand dollars? What? No.
No! What?!
No! No? What?
No.
And I can confirm
that your wife has been
receiving that money every
month since her father died.
Marge has been getting
all that money for years,
and she never told me about it.
I-I don't know what to feel.
In these situations,
many of our customers
opt for extreme rage.
Well, I hate to just
follow the crowd, but...
So that's why I was so mad.
And that's why I'm
even angrier now.
For all these years, Marge
has been hiding money from me.
It's a blatant act of, of...
The term is
"financial infidelity."
And I can see
how you'd be angry.
Thank you.
- But it's the wrong emotion to feel.
- Damn it.
Homer, I'm gonna help
you work through this anger
so you can find peace.
Aw, work? That sounds like work.
How much time do I have?
I'd say about
point-three seconds
- judging by how fast you're flying towards that tree.
- Aah!
My God, we're airborne.
Whoa!
I don't know which one
I'm more upset about,
that my wife has been keeping
a secret mountain
of cash from me,
or that I'm about to die in
a stupid, violent car wreck.
Don't make me
choose, Goobie-Woo.
Homer, you're spiraling.
Of course I'm spiraling.
I'm literally flying
through the air.
Whoa, whoa, whoa!
Listen, I know you're
feeling all the feels right now,
but we're getting closer to
the real source of your rage.
What? I'm sorry, I'm
eating my feelings.
Bad Homer. Spit out that
food, and those feelings.
What was Marge
spending that money on?
And why did she keep it
a secret from everybody?
Um, not everybody, Dad.
I hate to say it, but
we've known about
Mom's secret cash
for quite some time.
Yeah, that's why I laugh
myself to sleep every night.
What? And here I've
been worried sick about
your night giggles.
Let me tell you
how we found out.
I was blowing off
steam one day...
and I saw that Mom was
getting $100,000 a month!
Then I explained to
Bart how decimal points work.
Then we asked Mom
about it, and she admitted
the whole thing.
So then tell me, why did
she keep the money a secret?
I don't think you can handle it.
- I can handle it.
- Okay.
The reason is...
Your father
is an ape-faced butt monster
who eats booger
sandwiches and also sucks.
Why, you little
unreliable narrator!
Glass is sharp.
Even my kids knew I
was being fiscally unmanned.
Okay, got to go, ape face.
See you at your funeral.
We'll be the kids running
around in our nice clothes,
poignantly unaware
of the finality of death.
That tree can't
get here fast enough.
Okay, Michael Phelps,
don't swim to
your death just yet.
Don't you want to find
out what Marge been
spending the money on?
You bet I do.
Well, that's what I thought.
Give me your best guess.
I want to give her the
benefit of the doubt,
but I can't help but
imagine the worst.
See you later. I'm off to earn
our only source of income.
He's gone. Robo-butler,
bring me a caviar hoagie.
My word.
This is so expensive.
You know what
else I'm paying for?
Sexy handymen doing
chores around the house.
I don't know which I love more,
being rich or hiding
it from my husband.
Let us mock him through dance.
Homer, I hesitate to ask,
but why does your brain think
that's what Marge is
doing with the money?
Because it's what I'd do.
Except the repairmen would
be my favorite rock stars:
Kiss, Bon Jovi, Men at Work,
because of their
excellent work ethic.
Stop!
Your wife is a much
better person than you are,
and she's been using the
money in a very different way.
So no robot butler?
I'm sure that...
Goobie-Woo in da house!
- My God.
- Whoo!
All this time, I've been
thinking the worst about Marge,
but she was using
the money to save me.
Ya think?
And she only kept it a secret to
save your dumbass male pride.
Holy crap, I just
flew past the tree!
Whoo!
Thank God, I don't have to
be mad at Marge anymore.
If anything, you should
be mad at Marge's dad.
Snap, I shouldn't have said that.
"Snap"? What do
you mean, "Snap"?
Snap, why not?
What do you know?
Nothing. And closure!
Closure-closure,
closure-closure.
No. I got to know
what Marge's dad did,
or said or rapped.
Aha, and I've got the
magical footage right here.
Don't look at it!
You've come so far.
Inner peace has almost
defeated your outer rage.
You've got to be strong, man.
So if I look at
that piece of glass,
I could change my fate
and perhaps even
risk my very soul?
Well, I'm cool with that.
What the hell?!
But, Dad, Homer
has a good heart,
and I'm going to marry him.
Honey, this Simpson
fellow will never provide for you.
He has jackass
written all over him.
Marge, do you
have any turpentine?
It's not coming off.
His friends did that after
he fell asleep at a party.
Homer's the sweetest
person I've ever met.
Every time I look into his eyes,
I see someone who
will never stop loving me.
Crap.
Look, I'm gonna leave you
something special in my will
to make sure you're
okay, because you've found
every father's worst nightmare:
true love with a true loser.
Loser? But I thought
Marge's dad liked me.
He was always warning me about
doors hitting my
butt on the way out.
How dare he emasculate
me from beyond the grave?
I told you not to look at it.
Wait, how could I
remember that talk
between Marge and her dad
if I wasn't around to see it?
You can see stuff like that
'cause you're a ghost now.
You dead.
D'...!
I tried to tell you, and
you didn't want to hear me.
You was eating your
feelings and carrying on.
Goobie-Woo knows what's good.
I'm gonna see this
in every dream now.
My God, I'm in heaven now.
It's so huge, so majestic.
So red.
Ooh, it's one of heaven's
goaty-footed angels.
And look at that giant fork.
Probably for eating
delicious, heavenly s'mores.
Think again, pally.
Wait a second, I'm
in hell? But why?
Because you committed
the deadly sin of wrath
against your father-in-law.
So what? Everybody
hates everybody these days.
Plus the rest of the
seven deadly sins
all in the last half
second of your life.
Whoo-hoo! I hit for the cycle!
Okay, so this is
where you check in
for your eternal punishments.
Who are they?
That's our exchange
program we have with heaven.
We send them people
condemned for sins
that aren't sins anymore.
All aboard for those damned
for being gay between 5000
BC and like ten years ago.
It's about damn time.
Make way for Miss Thing!
Now
arriving, former residents of heaven
who are now considered
bad by today's standards.
Wherefore art I in hell?
I gave the world Othello.
Yeah, and performed
it in blackface.
Get outta here.
I didn't even actually
write the plays!
Okay, Mr. Simpson, looks
like your punishment is
to be boiled alive
for all eternity
- in a lake of blood.
- All right.
Just wait over there.
There's a line?
Hey, do you mind
if I go ahead of you?
Yeah, in fact, I do mind.
For...
Fine, take this buzzer.
When we're ready for
you, it'll electrocute you
and set your torso aflame!
I know how buzzers work.
Ooh, poker.
Boy, I got-a the best hand.
I'm-a gonna win.
Ha! Nice bluff, Benito.
Marge's dead dad!
You thought I wasn't
worthy of Marge.
I'll kill you and send
you to super-hell!
Hey, hey, behave yourself.
We have standards here.
Shut up, Tom Selleck!
What Marge's dad did
to me was super-sucky.
It's probably the reason
he ended up here.
Actually, he ended up
here thanks to an unrelated
check forging scheme.
Checks. Remember
them?
Crazy.
Homer, let's you
and me take a walk.
Walking?
This really is hell.
I want to show you something.
Wow, another screen?
Yeah, this is hell.
Screens everywhere.
Mom, Dad, I'd like
you to meet Mercer.
He designs board games.
Like Parker Brothers?
Yeah, like
Parker Brothers. No.
You actually play that
mainstream corporate garbage?
You're so lucky to
be meeting me today.
Seriously, I am
so jealous of you.
Check this out.
My new game is
gonna be a huge hit.
It combines the
Stratego-ness of Stratego,
the implicit sexual
tension of Twister,
and the hard-driving
whimsy of Tic-Tac-Toe.
It's called Side-gammon.
Who's up for a game?
Come on!
It's super complicated!
You'll be out
before you know it,
and you'll be humiliated!
Excuse me,
I have to go yell something
into your washer-dryer.
He really is brilliant,
and he has a good heart.
I'm going to marry him.
I'm the Mozart of board games
and novelties!
Why, that guy's a total loser.
I don't want him to marry Lisa.
Wait, I was never
as bad as him, was I?
Actually, there was a time
when I would have
preferred that guy to you.
Plus, you know what?
We got an advance
copy of Side-gammon,
- and it's not bad.
- My God.
I'm starting to see things
from another point of view.
Your point of view.
I didn't even know
other people had those.
You were just
worried about Marge,
the way I'd be
worried about Lisa.
No matter how old
and dead we get,
we just want to make
sure our little girls are okay.
D'
Homer Simpson, we are now ready
to boil you for eternity
in a lake of blood.
Wow, suddenly that
doesn't sound so good.
You just had an epiphany, pally,
which means you get
to go back to your life.
It's a dumb rule, but we need
a two-thirds vote to change it.
Which is also a dumb rule.
What can I say?
Hell ain't perfect.
Homer, you're getting
another chance.
Now, get the hell out of hell
and go back to my daughter.
You heard the man.
Let's get your ass home.
Damn, that hurt.
You died and went to hell.
Ralph knows.
Whee!
Thank you, Goobie-Woo.
I learned more
tumbling through the air
than I ever did
tumbling through my life.
- Dad!
- Homer!
Goobie-Woo.
Homie, thank God you're okay.
Homer, I have to ask you,
why did you send
me that angry text?
It doesn't matter.
I have since set
aside my own ego
and learned to savor
my many blessings.
And you, my darling, are
foremost amongst them.
I don't understand
a thing he's saying.
He seems to be in a lot of pain.
Can't you give him something?
Absolutely not.
No can do till we
get to the hospital.
I guess I can go another
month without a new purse.
That's the end.
You see, I'm a projection
of your psyche,
and you're in the middle of
- a very traumatic life event.
- And cut.
Now we should move on
to the part
where your character slaps Dad.
Wait a minute,
isn't that just a sound effect?
No, it's got to be real.
Right, Lizzo?
Seems a bit excessive to me,
but, hey, pshh, you're the kid.
You know what?
If you're uncomfortable,
you don't have to do it.
I could do it for you.
And action!
Maybe a few more for safety?
Whose safety?
I don't feel safe!
Why, you little...
This beat is fire.
Yo, Lisa, how 'bout
I get Sasha Flute,
you get your saxamaphone,
and we, jam?
I'd love to.
Stop that.
Why, you little...
Shh!
Aah!
What? Whatcha...
D'
Who the hell are these people?
Why you...
My pâté de campagne!
My "Kick me" sign!
How could she?
Why would she?
So many feelings,
all of them anger.
Must drive them away.
Rage belongs on the road.
Where the hell's my phone?
Got to express my rage to
the person who enraged me:
my wife.
Marge, I am so, so,
so, so angry.
Anger emoji, skull emoji,
eggplant emoji,
because I hate eggplant.
Fire, fire, fire. Aah!
A fire-fire-fire hydrant!
Okay, Homer, stay calm.
Your seat belt will save you.
Wha?
Thank God I still got my airbag.
Safety first.
Well, at least I got
shatter-proof glass.
It's shattering!
D'...!
I'm soaring through
the air like an angel,
or a beautiful loogie.
How very majestic the
world looks from up here.
The sky, the ocean,
Ralph.
Bart's bald mommy
is going to die.
That's her problem.
Homer? Yo, big man.
Now's not the time to chill.
What? Who the hell was that?
It's me, Maggie's
Happy Little Elf doll.
Yeah.
She calls you Goobie-Woo.
Of course she does.
That's my damn name.
Okay. Sheesh, Goobie-Woo.
But how are you
talking right now?
That's a little complicated.
You see, I'm a
projection of your psyche,
and you're in the middle of
a very traumatic life event.
Traumatic? What do
you mean? I feel great.
Homer. Homer, what
you're currently experiencing
is called
post-traumatic elation.
Is that like Post Raisin Bran?
Damn it, man, you are
literally in the middle
of a car accident!
What?! Right.
Let me lay this out.
You and me are gonna
use this car ejection
for some self-reflection,
okay, my brother?
And that journey begins with
finding the source
of your anger.
Now, gaze into that
little piece of glass.
I need a safe-deposit
box. Want to know why?
Well, that's why I got into
banking in the first place,
for the thrilling stories.
Well, this morning,
I was on my break
at the nuclear power plant...
So I went and got
myself a bag of chips.
Potato chips.
I feel like I'm at a
story slam right now.
They were so delicious
and salty and chompy,
and before long,
they were all gone.
- No.
- Almost.
There's a twist?
But then I pulled out this,
a chip that looks
exactly like John Travolta.
And that's why I need
a safe-deposit box,
to protect this
treasure forever.
Don't study opera
staging in Vienna, they said.
Work in a bank, they said.
Mr. Simpson,
it looks like your family
already has a safe-deposit box.
Your wife rented it
out over a decade ago.
- Wow, you've got a wife.
- Wha?
Now, I'm not supposed
to show you this,
but lucky for you right
now I'm super high.
"Last will and testament"?
Written by Clarence
Bouvier, your father-in-law.
Marge's dad left a will?
He never told me about that
in the four conversations
we ever had.
It says here he set up a trust
to pay Marge Simpson,
ooh, $1,000 a month.
A thousand dollars? What? No.
No! What?!
No! No? What?
No.
And I can confirm
that your wife has been
receiving that money every
month since her father died.
Marge has been getting
all that money for years,
and she never told me about it.
I-I don't know what to feel.
In these situations,
many of our customers
opt for extreme rage.
Well, I hate to just
follow the crowd, but...
So that's why I was so mad.
And that's why I'm
even angrier now.
For all these years, Marge
has been hiding money from me.
It's a blatant act of, of...
The term is
"financial infidelity."
And I can see
how you'd be angry.
Thank you.
- But it's the wrong emotion to feel.
- Damn it.
Homer, I'm gonna help
you work through this anger
so you can find peace.
Aw, work? That sounds like work.
How much time do I have?
I'd say about
point-three seconds
- judging by how fast you're flying towards that tree.
- Aah!
My God, we're airborne.
Whoa!
I don't know which one
I'm more upset about,
that my wife has been keeping
a secret mountain
of cash from me,
or that I'm about to die in
a stupid, violent car wreck.
Don't make me
choose, Goobie-Woo.
Homer, you're spiraling.
Of course I'm spiraling.
I'm literally flying
through the air.
Whoa, whoa, whoa!
Listen, I know you're
feeling all the feels right now,
but we're getting closer to
the real source of your rage.
What? I'm sorry, I'm
eating my feelings.
Bad Homer. Spit out that
food, and those feelings.
What was Marge
spending that money on?
And why did she keep it
a secret from everybody?
Um, not everybody, Dad.
I hate to say it, but
we've known about
Mom's secret cash
for quite some time.
Yeah, that's why I laugh
myself to sleep every night.
What? And here I've
been worried sick about
your night giggles.
Let me tell you
how we found out.
I was blowing off
steam one day...
and I saw that Mom was
getting $100,000 a month!
Then I explained to
Bart how decimal points work.
Then we asked Mom
about it, and she admitted
the whole thing.
So then tell me, why did
she keep the money a secret?
I don't think you can handle it.
- I can handle it.
- Okay.
The reason is...
Your father
is an ape-faced butt monster
who eats booger
sandwiches and also sucks.
Why, you little
unreliable narrator!
Glass is sharp.
Even my kids knew I
was being fiscally unmanned.
Okay, got to go, ape face.
See you at your funeral.
We'll be the kids running
around in our nice clothes,
poignantly unaware
of the finality of death.
That tree can't
get here fast enough.
Okay, Michael Phelps,
don't swim to
your death just yet.
Don't you want to find
out what Marge been
spending the money on?
You bet I do.
Well, that's what I thought.
Give me your best guess.
I want to give her the
benefit of the doubt,
but I can't help but
imagine the worst.
See you later. I'm off to earn
our only source of income.
He's gone. Robo-butler,
bring me a caviar hoagie.
My word.
This is so expensive.
You know what
else I'm paying for?
Sexy handymen doing
chores around the house.
I don't know which I love more,
being rich or hiding
it from my husband.
Let us mock him through dance.
Homer, I hesitate to ask,
but why does your brain think
that's what Marge is
doing with the money?
Because it's what I'd do.
Except the repairmen would
be my favorite rock stars:
Kiss, Bon Jovi, Men at Work,
because of their
excellent work ethic.
Stop!
Your wife is a much
better person than you are,
and she's been using the
money in a very different way.
So no robot butler?
I'm sure that...
Goobie-Woo in da house!
- My God.
- Whoo!
All this time, I've been
thinking the worst about Marge,
but she was using
the money to save me.
Ya think?
And she only kept it a secret to
save your dumbass male pride.
Holy crap, I just
flew past the tree!
Whoo!
Thank God, I don't have to
be mad at Marge anymore.
If anything, you should
be mad at Marge's dad.
Snap, I shouldn't have said that.
"Snap"? What do
you mean, "Snap"?
Snap, why not?
What do you know?
Nothing. And closure!
Closure-closure,
closure-closure.
No. I got to know
what Marge's dad did,
or said or rapped.
Aha, and I've got the
magical footage right here.
Don't look at it!
You've come so far.
Inner peace has almost
defeated your outer rage.
You've got to be strong, man.
So if I look at
that piece of glass,
I could change my fate
and perhaps even
risk my very soul?
Well, I'm cool with that.
What the hell?!
But, Dad, Homer
has a good heart,
and I'm going to marry him.
Honey, this Simpson
fellow will never provide for you.
He has jackass
written all over him.
Marge, do you
have any turpentine?
It's not coming off.
His friends did that after
he fell asleep at a party.
Homer's the sweetest
person I've ever met.
Every time I look into his eyes,
I see someone who
will never stop loving me.
Crap.
Look, I'm gonna leave you
something special in my will
to make sure you're
okay, because you've found
every father's worst nightmare:
true love with a true loser.
Loser? But I thought
Marge's dad liked me.
He was always warning me about
doors hitting my
butt on the way out.
How dare he emasculate
me from beyond the grave?
I told you not to look at it.
Wait, how could I
remember that talk
between Marge and her dad
if I wasn't around to see it?
You can see stuff like that
'cause you're a ghost now.
You dead.
D'...!
I tried to tell you, and
you didn't want to hear me.
You was eating your
feelings and carrying on.
Goobie-Woo knows what's good.
I'm gonna see this
in every dream now.
My God, I'm in heaven now.
It's so huge, so majestic.
So red.
Ooh, it's one of heaven's
goaty-footed angels.
And look at that giant fork.
Probably for eating
delicious, heavenly s'mores.
Think again, pally.
Wait a second, I'm
in hell? But why?
Because you committed
the deadly sin of wrath
against your father-in-law.
So what? Everybody
hates everybody these days.
Plus the rest of the
seven deadly sins
all in the last half
second of your life.
Whoo-hoo! I hit for the cycle!
Okay, so this is
where you check in
for your eternal punishments.
Who are they?
That's our exchange
program we have with heaven.
We send them people
condemned for sins
that aren't sins anymore.
All aboard for those damned
for being gay between 5000
BC and like ten years ago.
It's about damn time.
Make way for Miss Thing!
Now
arriving, former residents of heaven
who are now considered
bad by today's standards.
Wherefore art I in hell?
I gave the world Othello.
Yeah, and performed
it in blackface.
Get outta here.
I didn't even actually
write the plays!
Okay, Mr. Simpson, looks
like your punishment is
to be boiled alive
for all eternity
- in a lake of blood.
- All right.
Just wait over there.
There's a line?
Hey, do you mind
if I go ahead of you?
Yeah, in fact, I do mind.
For...
Fine, take this buzzer.
When we're ready for
you, it'll electrocute you
and set your torso aflame!
I know how buzzers work.
Ooh, poker.
Boy, I got-a the best hand.
I'm-a gonna win.
Ha! Nice bluff, Benito.
Marge's dead dad!
You thought I wasn't
worthy of Marge.
I'll kill you and send
you to super-hell!
Hey, hey, behave yourself.
We have standards here.
Shut up, Tom Selleck!
What Marge's dad did
to me was super-sucky.
It's probably the reason
he ended up here.
Actually, he ended up
here thanks to an unrelated
check forging scheme.
Checks. Remember
them?
Crazy.
Homer, let's you
and me take a walk.
Walking?
This really is hell.
I want to show you something.
Wow, another screen?
Yeah, this is hell.
Screens everywhere.
Mom, Dad, I'd like
you to meet Mercer.
He designs board games.
Like Parker Brothers?
Yeah, like
Parker Brothers. No.
You actually play that
mainstream corporate garbage?
You're so lucky to
be meeting me today.
Seriously, I am
so jealous of you.
Check this out.
My new game is
gonna be a huge hit.
It combines the
Stratego-ness of Stratego,
the implicit sexual
tension of Twister,
and the hard-driving
whimsy of Tic-Tac-Toe.
It's called Side-gammon.
Who's up for a game?
Come on!
It's super complicated!
You'll be out
before you know it,
and you'll be humiliated!
Excuse me,
I have to go yell something
into your washer-dryer.
He really is brilliant,
and he has a good heart.
I'm going to marry him.
I'm the Mozart of board games
and novelties!
Why, that guy's a total loser.
I don't want him to marry Lisa.
Wait, I was never
as bad as him, was I?
Actually, there was a time
when I would have
preferred that guy to you.
Plus, you know what?
We got an advance
copy of Side-gammon,
- and it's not bad.
- My God.
I'm starting to see things
from another point of view.
Your point of view.
I didn't even know
other people had those.
You were just
worried about Marge,
the way I'd be
worried about Lisa.
No matter how old
and dead we get,
we just want to make
sure our little girls are okay.
D'
Homer Simpson, we are now ready
to boil you for eternity
in a lake of blood.
Wow, suddenly that
doesn't sound so good.
You just had an epiphany, pally,
which means you get
to go back to your life.
It's a dumb rule, but we need
a two-thirds vote to change it.
Which is also a dumb rule.
What can I say?
Hell ain't perfect.
Homer, you're getting
another chance.
Now, get the hell out of hell
and go back to my daughter.
You heard the man.
Let's get your ass home.
Damn, that hurt.
You died and went to hell.
Ralph knows.
Whee!
Thank you, Goobie-Woo.
I learned more
tumbling through the air
than I ever did
tumbling through my life.
- Dad!
- Homer!
Goobie-Woo.
Homie, thank God you're okay.
Homer, I have to ask you,
why did you send
me that angry text?
It doesn't matter.
I have since set
aside my own ego
and learned to savor
my many blessings.
And you, my darling, are
foremost amongst them.
I don't understand
a thing he's saying.
He seems to be in a lot of pain.
Can't you give him something?
Absolutely not.
No can do till we
get to the hospital.
I guess I can go another
month without a new purse.
That's the end.
You see, I'm a projection
of your psyche,
and you're in the middle of
- a very traumatic life event.
- And cut.
Now we should move on
to the part
where your character slaps Dad.
Wait a minute,
isn't that just a sound effect?
No, it's got to be real.
Right, Lizzo?
Seems a bit excessive to me,
but, hey, pshh, you're the kid.
You know what?
If you're uncomfortable,
you don't have to do it.
I could do it for you.
And action!
Maybe a few more for safety?
Whose safety?
I don't feel safe!
Why, you little...
This beat is fire.
Yo, Lisa, how 'bout
I get Sasha Flute,
you get your saxamaphone,
and we, jam?
I'd love to.
Stop that.
Why, you little...
Shh!