The Simpsons (1989–…): Season 4, Episode 1 - Kamp Krusty - full transcript
Bart and Lisa head to Kamp Krusty for the Summer, but instead of meeting Krusty, them and the other kids are put to work making crummy merchandise.
## TheSimpsons ##
D'oh!
- Well, children, it's the last day of school.
- Yea!
Here are your grades.
Oh, no, Mrs. Krabappel.
If I don't get a "C" average,
my dad won't let me go to Kamp Krusty.
Well, it isn't fair to
the other children, but all right.
Much obliged, doll!
Oh, Bart Simpson,
I'm gonna miss you.
Attention, everyone.
This is Principal Skinner.
I trust you all remembered to bring in
your implements of destruction.
Now, let's trash this dump.
Somebody put a torch to these
permanent records. Quickly, now.
Wake up, boy.
I dreamt it was the last day of school.
Well, it is.
Oh, how do I know this isn't
Some beautiful dream too?
Ow! You know,
a pinch is more traditional.
Homer, you do remember
your promise to the children?
Sure do! When you're 1 8,
you're out the door!
No, Dad, you promised if Bart and I got
"C" averages, we could go to Kamp Krusty.
And with no false modesty,
you're lookin' at one happy camper.
Yeah.
Remember, when you see my report card,
they got this new grading system this year.
It now goes, "D," "B," "A," "C."
Listen, boy, we have an understanding,
and you'd better keep your end of it.
I don't think I'd be any kind of a father
If you got D's, and I let you go to Kamp Krusty.
But, Dad!
if you want something in this life,
you have to work for it.
Now, quiet! They're about to
announce the lottery numbers.
- Seventeen, 32--
- D'oh!
- five--
- D'oh!
- eight--
- Whoo-hoo!
- 47.
- D'oh!
Attention, students.
Please clear out your lockers
into the waste baskets provided.
Thirty-six, 24, 36.
Ha, ha, ha.
Now, let's see what we got here.
Ah, my gym shorts.
Here are your final report cards.
I have nothing left to say
to any of you.
So if nobody minds,
let's just quietly run out the clock.
I've never gotten a "B" before.
How could this have happened?
I feel so dirty!
The dirt's not coming off!.
Okay. Calm down.
This must just be a little typo.
Oh, Miss Hoover! There appears to be
a mistake on my report card.
You gave me a B-plus in conduct?
Now, Lisa, everyone needs a blotch
on their permanent record.
Perhaps I'm not making myself clear.
- I think you should reconsider.
- Lisa, you're hurting me!
Mrs. Krabappel,
in figuring out my final grades...
I hope you'll note that all
Of my textbooks are being returned...
in excellent condition--
in some cases,
still in their original wrappings.
Duly noted.
I'd also like to add,
as I gaze upon your beauty...
I've never seen an angel
fly so low.
Forget it, short pants.
Mrs. Krabappel, if I don't get
at least a "C" average...
I can't go to Kamp Krusty!
Have a "D"-lightful summer!
- Five!
- Four!
- Three!
- Two!
- Don't open your mouth.
One!
Wait a minute! You didn't learn
how World War II ended.
- We won!
- Yea! U.S.A!
U.S.A!
U.S.A! U.S.A!
I haven't seen such unfettered
hurly-burly since the fall of Saigon.
Well, William,
another school year gone by.
- And may I say, a job well done, sir?
- Well, back to work then.
Make sure to give those toilets
a good scrubbing.
We want the old girls sparkling
when I get back.
Aye, sir.
Eh, you silk-wearing buttercup!
All right! Three whole months
Of Spaghetti Os and daytime TV!
So, Bart, will you be joining me
in the bucolic splendor of Kamp Krusty?
You bet.
Check out this hand. All aces.
A-plus!
Oh, Bart, why didn't you at least
forge plausible grades?
Oh!
Hi, kids!
Only one week left to sign up for
the bestest summer ever at Kamp Krusty!
Whoa!
Hey! Kamp Krusty is built on
an actual Indian burial ground.
We've got archery, wallet-making--
the whole megillah.
And for you fat kids...
my exclusive program
of diet and ridicule...
will really get results.
And the best part is,
when you come to Kamp Krusty...
you'll spend the summer with me!
Honest Injun!
Well, here goes nothin'.
D'oh! Stupid roller skate.
Well, Dad,
here's my report card.
I think you'll be
pleasantly surprised.
A-plus?
- You don't think much of me, do you, boy?
- No, sir.
You know, a "D" turns into a "B" so easily.
You just got greedy.
So I won't get to go to camp?
Now, Bart, we made this deal because I
thought it would help you get good grades.
And you didn't.
But why should you pay for my mistake?
- You mean I can go?
- Yeah.
I didn't want you hanging around
all summer anyway.
Oh, Dad, you're the best father
a boy could ever have!
Thanks, son.
Now, you've got little hands.
Can you reach under that mower
and pull out that skate?
Phew. Never mind.
Bart, where's your bathing suit?
- I'm gonna swim "nekkid."
- You're what?
Ah, sure, there'll be a couple
Of up-tight counselors...
who won't dig
the Bart philosophy...
but I feel the human body
is a thing of beauty.
Marge, am I crazy
or is my back getting hairier?
Before I go to camp,
I'll need boosters for malaria...
German measles, encephalitis,
Hansen's disease--
Oh, now, I'm afraid what we have here
is an advanced case of hypochondria.
There's only one known cure--
a "wowwipop."
Don't patronize me, Doctor.
It's our last family dinner
for six weeks...
but I promised myself
I wouldn't cry.
Oh, I'm going to miss this!
Hey, hands off my pickle!
- I don't see your name on it, boy.
- No, but--
Oh, yeah?
Check... mate!
Always thinking two moves ahead.
We'll see you when you get back
from Image Enhancement Camp.
Spare me your euphemisms. It's fat camp
for Daddy's chubby little secret!
You promised you wouldn't
make a scene.
Mmm!
Good-bye, my special little guy!
Mmm! Mmm!
Lisa, watch out for poison ivy.
Remember:
leaves of three, let it be.
Leaves of four, eat some more.
- Good-bye. Good-bye, sweetie.
- Good-bye, Mom.
- Bye, Dad! I'll write you every day!
- Don't look in my closet.
In fact, stay out
Of my room altogether.
If the pets die,
don't replace them. I'll know!
So long! Don't come back!
Hi, kids!
Welcome to Kamp Krusty!
I'll see you in a few weeks.
Until then,
I've turned things over...
to my bestest buddy
in the whole wide world--
Mr. Black.
- I want you to treat--
- Mr. Black.
with the same respect
you would give me.
- Now here's--
- Mr. Black.
Thank you, Krusty,
and welcome, children.
I am Mr. Black,
your head counselor.
For the past 1 5 years,
I was president of Euro-Krustyland...
until it blew up.
I'll take any questions you might have.
You, and then one more.
- Can we call you Uncle Blackie?
- No. Last question.
- When do we get to see Krusty?
- Uh, he will be along eventually.
In the meantime, our counselors
Dolph, Jimbo and Kearney...
will be happy to handle
any problems you may have.
Looks like we got ourselves a troublemaker.
You can have the shower to yourself, Homie.
- I'm finished.
- Oh, no, you're not.
Ohh!
Here's your cabin.
If you don't like it, T.S.
This is a little more rustic
than I expected.
I'm not worried, Lise.
You know why?
Because of this.
The Krusty Brand Seal of Approval.
You can only find it on products which
meet the high personal standards...
of Krusty the Clown.
- Ow!
- Oops. I should've warned you.
That clock gets incredibly hot
If you leave it plugged in.
That's okay.
Uh, all this stuff is fine.
Now I am off to Wimbledon!
Don't we get to roast marshmallows?
Shut up and eat your pinecone.
Uh, are you sure that's safe?
Well, it ain't gettin' any safer.
All right,
you balls of pan drippings!
I want to see Crisco
coming out of those pores!
We're not leaving until this
Christmas ham gives me a pull-up.
Louder! Faster!
- You're serving us gruel?
- Not quite.
This is Krusty Brand Imitation Gruel.
Nine out of 1 0 orphans
can't tell the difference.
- Yo, Mr. Black. Another brandy.
- Gentlemen, to evil.
Marge, since the kids left,
I've lost five pounds!
Oh, that's wonderful!
And look-- new hair!
I'm this close to having a comb-over.
Oh!
Lights out, losers!
Yeah, we're meetin' some tail
on the other side of the lake.
- I feel like I'm gonna die, Bart.
- We're all gonna die, Lise.
- I meant soon.
- So did I.
Mmm. Strawberries.
Mmm. Ah, that's good.
Hey, Lendl!
Choke! Choke! Yeah!
Point and game, Becker.
And will the harlequin in the third row
Please keep his voice down?
Sorry, folks.
- Sorry, Your Majesty.
- Hmph!
Dear kids,
I hope this letter finds you well.
We're doing great.
Your father is in the best shape
he's been since--
well, ever!
Strength! Agility!
We miss you terribly.
I hope these jelly bean cookies
will tide you over until you get home.
Hey, Simpson!
Tell your mom her cookies sucked.
Dear Mom and Dad,
I no longer fear hell...
because I've been to Kamp Krusty.
Our nature hikes have become
grim death marches.
- A snake bit me.
- Back in line, maggot!
Our arts and crafts center is,
in actuality, a Dickensian workhouse.
Come on, wimps!
These Gucci wallets have to be
on the streets of Hong Kong by Friday.
Bart makes it through the days
relying on his unwavering belief...
that Krusty the Clown
will come through.
Krusty is coming.
Krusty is coming. Krusty's coming.
But I am far more pessimistic.
I am not sure If this letter will reach you
as our lines of communication have been cut.
Giddyap!
Now the effort of writing
Has made me lightheaded...
so I close by saying,
"Save us! Save us now!'"
Bart and Lisa.
Ah, kids' letters from camp.
Oh, she complains now, but when we go
to pick her up, she won't want to leave.
Lisa, I've been thinking it over.
Next summer, I'm getting a job.
Oh, Homer. It's getting late.
We'll miss the fireworks.
Marge, we've got all the fireworks
we need right here.
Well, kids, I promised you
a little treat in lieu of dinner...
and here it is--
the man who took an abandoned mule tannery
and turned it into a summer wonderland...
Mr. Krusty the Clown.
See? I told you Krusty would come.
just like I said.
He's gonna bring us food and water,
and smite our enemies!
Now, I must tell you kids,
Krusty has laryngitis and a bad back...
so he won't be saying anything
or doing anything.
Krusty looks fat.
He's really having trouble
keeping his balance.
He's still funny,
but not ha-ha funny.
That's not Krusty the Clown!
What do you think?
I slapped a clown suit on some wino?
- I mean, I--
- Yeah, Bart.
I am so Krunchy the Clown!
All right. That's it.
I've been scorched by Krusty before.
I got a rapid heartbeat
from those Krusty Brand vitamins.
My Krusty calculator
didn't have a seven or an eight!
And Krusty's autobiography was
self-serving with many glaring omissions.
But this time, he's gone too far!
We want Krusty!
We want Krusty!
We want Krusty!
Yeah, we want Krunchy!
We want Krunchy!
- I thought you said you broke their spirits.
- We did.
- You broke nothing.
- Let's get 'em!
To the hydrofoil!
My chunky brothers, gorge yourselves
at the trough of freedom!
Ahh! Sweet, nourishing gruel!
- Kowalski!
- My brownies!
- Wiggum!
- A change of underwear!
- Crandall!
- My insulin!
Bart! You said you were gonna
name it Camp Freedom!
Aah, this has more zing.
I dub thee Sir--
Urgent call for Mr. Clown.
This better be important.
Oy, gevalt!
just let your head
flop back and forth.
Your neck is a well-cooked
piece of asparagus.
We interrupt Sadrudin Mabaradad's
Yoga Party for this special bulletin--
"Krisis at Kamp Krusty."
Ladies and gentlemen, I've been
to Vietnam, Afghanistan and Iraq...
and I can say without hyperbole...
that this is a million times worse
than all of them put together.
Burn, Krusty, burn! Burn, Krusty, burn!
A group of school-aged Spartacuses
has taken this camp by force.
Three counselors are missing
and presumed scared.
What's that? I'm being told I can have
an exclusive interview with the ringleader.
Don't be the boy. Don't be the boy.
D'oh!
I just want the whole world to know
that this was a really crappy camp.
- Can I say "crappy" on TV?
- Yes, on this network, you can.
Is it true you attempted suicide
when you heard the news?
- Are you and Princess Di just friends?
- You people make me sick!
You're vultures! Where were you
when I sang at Farm Aid?
Out of my way, you parasites!
I said, out of my way!
I'm no fake.
I'm the real Krusty.
Oh, yeah? Who played your daughter
in the short-lived sitcom President Clown?
I don't know her name,
but she held up a liquor store last year.
I smell bacon.
Let's see if he's wearing a wire!
Hey! Whoa! No! Not the face!
It is the real Krusty.
Look at that pacemaker scar,
the cattle skull birthmark...
and his famous
superfluous nipple.
At least you're not as bad
as Customs.
How could you, Krusty? I'd never
lend my name to an inferior product.
Oh!
They drove a dump truck full
Of money up to my house.
I'm not made of stone!
Krusty,
this camp was a nightmare.
They fed us gruel. They forced us
to make wallets for export.
And one of the campers
was eaten by a bear.
Oh, my God!
- Well, actually, the bear just ate his hat.
- Was it a nice hat?
- Oh, yeah.
- Oh, my God!
I'm gonna make it up to you. I'm gonna
Show you kids the time of your life.
Get ready for two weeks
at the Happiest Place on Earth--
Tijuana!
Ol?!
D'oh!
- Well, children, it's the last day of school.
- Yea!
Here are your grades.
Oh, no, Mrs. Krabappel.
If I don't get a "C" average,
my dad won't let me go to Kamp Krusty.
Well, it isn't fair to
the other children, but all right.
Much obliged, doll!
Oh, Bart Simpson,
I'm gonna miss you.
Attention, everyone.
This is Principal Skinner.
I trust you all remembered to bring in
your implements of destruction.
Now, let's trash this dump.
Somebody put a torch to these
permanent records. Quickly, now.
Wake up, boy.
I dreamt it was the last day of school.
Well, it is.
Oh, how do I know this isn't
Some beautiful dream too?
Ow! You know,
a pinch is more traditional.
Homer, you do remember
your promise to the children?
Sure do! When you're 1 8,
you're out the door!
No, Dad, you promised if Bart and I got
"C" averages, we could go to Kamp Krusty.
And with no false modesty,
you're lookin' at one happy camper.
Yeah.
Remember, when you see my report card,
they got this new grading system this year.
It now goes, "D," "B," "A," "C."
Listen, boy, we have an understanding,
and you'd better keep your end of it.
I don't think I'd be any kind of a father
If you got D's, and I let you go to Kamp Krusty.
But, Dad!
if you want something in this life,
you have to work for it.
Now, quiet! They're about to
announce the lottery numbers.
- Seventeen, 32--
- D'oh!
- five--
- D'oh!
- eight--
- Whoo-hoo!
- 47.
- D'oh!
Attention, students.
Please clear out your lockers
into the waste baskets provided.
Thirty-six, 24, 36.
Ha, ha, ha.
Now, let's see what we got here.
Ah, my gym shorts.
Here are your final report cards.
I have nothing left to say
to any of you.
So if nobody minds,
let's just quietly run out the clock.
I've never gotten a "B" before.
How could this have happened?
I feel so dirty!
The dirt's not coming off!.
Okay. Calm down.
This must just be a little typo.
Oh, Miss Hoover! There appears to be
a mistake on my report card.
You gave me a B-plus in conduct?
Now, Lisa, everyone needs a blotch
on their permanent record.
Perhaps I'm not making myself clear.
- I think you should reconsider.
- Lisa, you're hurting me!
Mrs. Krabappel,
in figuring out my final grades...
I hope you'll note that all
Of my textbooks are being returned...
in excellent condition--
in some cases,
still in their original wrappings.
Duly noted.
I'd also like to add,
as I gaze upon your beauty...
I've never seen an angel
fly so low.
Forget it, short pants.
Mrs. Krabappel, if I don't get
at least a "C" average...
I can't go to Kamp Krusty!
Have a "D"-lightful summer!
- Five!
- Four!
- Three!
- Two!
- Don't open your mouth.
One!
Wait a minute! You didn't learn
how World War II ended.
- We won!
- Yea! U.S.A!
U.S.A!
U.S.A! U.S.A!
I haven't seen such unfettered
hurly-burly since the fall of Saigon.
Well, William,
another school year gone by.
- And may I say, a job well done, sir?
- Well, back to work then.
Make sure to give those toilets
a good scrubbing.
We want the old girls sparkling
when I get back.
Aye, sir.
Eh, you silk-wearing buttercup!
All right! Three whole months
Of Spaghetti Os and daytime TV!
So, Bart, will you be joining me
in the bucolic splendor of Kamp Krusty?
You bet.
Check out this hand. All aces.
A-plus!
Oh, Bart, why didn't you at least
forge plausible grades?
Oh!
Hi, kids!
Only one week left to sign up for
the bestest summer ever at Kamp Krusty!
Whoa!
Hey! Kamp Krusty is built on
an actual Indian burial ground.
We've got archery, wallet-making--
the whole megillah.
And for you fat kids...
my exclusive program
of diet and ridicule...
will really get results.
And the best part is,
when you come to Kamp Krusty...
you'll spend the summer with me!
Honest Injun!
Well, here goes nothin'.
D'oh! Stupid roller skate.
Well, Dad,
here's my report card.
I think you'll be
pleasantly surprised.
A-plus?
- You don't think much of me, do you, boy?
- No, sir.
You know, a "D" turns into a "B" so easily.
You just got greedy.
So I won't get to go to camp?
Now, Bart, we made this deal because I
thought it would help you get good grades.
And you didn't.
But why should you pay for my mistake?
- You mean I can go?
- Yeah.
I didn't want you hanging around
all summer anyway.
Oh, Dad, you're the best father
a boy could ever have!
Thanks, son.
Now, you've got little hands.
Can you reach under that mower
and pull out that skate?
Phew. Never mind.
Bart, where's your bathing suit?
- I'm gonna swim "nekkid."
- You're what?
Ah, sure, there'll be a couple
Of up-tight counselors...
who won't dig
the Bart philosophy...
but I feel the human body
is a thing of beauty.
Marge, am I crazy
or is my back getting hairier?
Before I go to camp,
I'll need boosters for malaria...
German measles, encephalitis,
Hansen's disease--
Oh, now, I'm afraid what we have here
is an advanced case of hypochondria.
There's only one known cure--
a "wowwipop."
Don't patronize me, Doctor.
It's our last family dinner
for six weeks...
but I promised myself
I wouldn't cry.
Oh, I'm going to miss this!
Hey, hands off my pickle!
- I don't see your name on it, boy.
- No, but--
Oh, yeah?
Check... mate!
Always thinking two moves ahead.
We'll see you when you get back
from Image Enhancement Camp.
Spare me your euphemisms. It's fat camp
for Daddy's chubby little secret!
You promised you wouldn't
make a scene.
Mmm!
Good-bye, my special little guy!
Mmm! Mmm!
Lisa, watch out for poison ivy.
Remember:
leaves of three, let it be.
Leaves of four, eat some more.
- Good-bye. Good-bye, sweetie.
- Good-bye, Mom.
- Bye, Dad! I'll write you every day!
- Don't look in my closet.
In fact, stay out
Of my room altogether.
If the pets die,
don't replace them. I'll know!
So long! Don't come back!
Hi, kids!
Welcome to Kamp Krusty!
I'll see you in a few weeks.
Until then,
I've turned things over...
to my bestest buddy
in the whole wide world--
Mr. Black.
- I want you to treat--
- Mr. Black.
with the same respect
you would give me.
- Now here's--
- Mr. Black.
Thank you, Krusty,
and welcome, children.
I am Mr. Black,
your head counselor.
For the past 1 5 years,
I was president of Euro-Krustyland...
until it blew up.
I'll take any questions you might have.
You, and then one more.
- Can we call you Uncle Blackie?
- No. Last question.
- When do we get to see Krusty?
- Uh, he will be along eventually.
In the meantime, our counselors
Dolph, Jimbo and Kearney...
will be happy to handle
any problems you may have.
Looks like we got ourselves a troublemaker.
You can have the shower to yourself, Homie.
- I'm finished.
- Oh, no, you're not.
Ohh!
Here's your cabin.
If you don't like it, T.S.
This is a little more rustic
than I expected.
I'm not worried, Lise.
You know why?
Because of this.
The Krusty Brand Seal of Approval.
You can only find it on products which
meet the high personal standards...
of Krusty the Clown.
- Ow!
- Oops. I should've warned you.
That clock gets incredibly hot
If you leave it plugged in.
That's okay.
Uh, all this stuff is fine.
Now I am off to Wimbledon!
Don't we get to roast marshmallows?
Shut up and eat your pinecone.
Uh, are you sure that's safe?
Well, it ain't gettin' any safer.
All right,
you balls of pan drippings!
I want to see Crisco
coming out of those pores!
We're not leaving until this
Christmas ham gives me a pull-up.
Louder! Faster!
- You're serving us gruel?
- Not quite.
This is Krusty Brand Imitation Gruel.
Nine out of 1 0 orphans
can't tell the difference.
- Yo, Mr. Black. Another brandy.
- Gentlemen, to evil.
Marge, since the kids left,
I've lost five pounds!
Oh, that's wonderful!
And look-- new hair!
I'm this close to having a comb-over.
Oh!
Lights out, losers!
Yeah, we're meetin' some tail
on the other side of the lake.
- I feel like I'm gonna die, Bart.
- We're all gonna die, Lise.
- I meant soon.
- So did I.
Mmm. Strawberries.
Mmm. Ah, that's good.
Hey, Lendl!
Choke! Choke! Yeah!
Point and game, Becker.
And will the harlequin in the third row
Please keep his voice down?
Sorry, folks.
- Sorry, Your Majesty.
- Hmph!
Dear kids,
I hope this letter finds you well.
We're doing great.
Your father is in the best shape
he's been since--
well, ever!
Strength! Agility!
We miss you terribly.
I hope these jelly bean cookies
will tide you over until you get home.
Hey, Simpson!
Tell your mom her cookies sucked.
Dear Mom and Dad,
I no longer fear hell...
because I've been to Kamp Krusty.
Our nature hikes have become
grim death marches.
- A snake bit me.
- Back in line, maggot!
Our arts and crafts center is,
in actuality, a Dickensian workhouse.
Come on, wimps!
These Gucci wallets have to be
on the streets of Hong Kong by Friday.
Bart makes it through the days
relying on his unwavering belief...
that Krusty the Clown
will come through.
Krusty is coming.
Krusty is coming. Krusty's coming.
But I am far more pessimistic.
I am not sure If this letter will reach you
as our lines of communication have been cut.
Giddyap!
Now the effort of writing
Has made me lightheaded...
so I close by saying,
"Save us! Save us now!'"
Bart and Lisa.
Ah, kids' letters from camp.
Oh, she complains now, but when we go
to pick her up, she won't want to leave.
Lisa, I've been thinking it over.
Next summer, I'm getting a job.
Oh, Homer. It's getting late.
We'll miss the fireworks.
Marge, we've got all the fireworks
we need right here.
Well, kids, I promised you
a little treat in lieu of dinner...
and here it is--
the man who took an abandoned mule tannery
and turned it into a summer wonderland...
Mr. Krusty the Clown.
See? I told you Krusty would come.
just like I said.
He's gonna bring us food and water,
and smite our enemies!
Now, I must tell you kids,
Krusty has laryngitis and a bad back...
so he won't be saying anything
or doing anything.
Krusty looks fat.
He's really having trouble
keeping his balance.
He's still funny,
but not ha-ha funny.
That's not Krusty the Clown!
What do you think?
I slapped a clown suit on some wino?
- I mean, I--
- Yeah, Bart.
I am so Krunchy the Clown!
All right. That's it.
I've been scorched by Krusty before.
I got a rapid heartbeat
from those Krusty Brand vitamins.
My Krusty calculator
didn't have a seven or an eight!
And Krusty's autobiography was
self-serving with many glaring omissions.
But this time, he's gone too far!
We want Krusty!
We want Krusty!
We want Krusty!
Yeah, we want Krunchy!
We want Krunchy!
- I thought you said you broke their spirits.
- We did.
- You broke nothing.
- Let's get 'em!
To the hydrofoil!
My chunky brothers, gorge yourselves
at the trough of freedom!
Ahh! Sweet, nourishing gruel!
- Kowalski!
- My brownies!
- Wiggum!
- A change of underwear!
- Crandall!
- My insulin!
Bart! You said you were gonna
name it Camp Freedom!
Aah, this has more zing.
I dub thee Sir--
Urgent call for Mr. Clown.
This better be important.
Oy, gevalt!
just let your head
flop back and forth.
Your neck is a well-cooked
piece of asparagus.
We interrupt Sadrudin Mabaradad's
Yoga Party for this special bulletin--
"Krisis at Kamp Krusty."
Ladies and gentlemen, I've been
to Vietnam, Afghanistan and Iraq...
and I can say without hyperbole...
that this is a million times worse
than all of them put together.
Burn, Krusty, burn! Burn, Krusty, burn!
A group of school-aged Spartacuses
has taken this camp by force.
Three counselors are missing
and presumed scared.
What's that? I'm being told I can have
an exclusive interview with the ringleader.
Don't be the boy. Don't be the boy.
D'oh!
I just want the whole world to know
that this was a really crappy camp.
- Can I say "crappy" on TV?
- Yes, on this network, you can.
Is it true you attempted suicide
when you heard the news?
- Are you and Princess Di just friends?
- You people make me sick!
You're vultures! Where were you
when I sang at Farm Aid?
Out of my way, you parasites!
I said, out of my way!
I'm no fake.
I'm the real Krusty.
Oh, yeah? Who played your daughter
in the short-lived sitcom President Clown?
I don't know her name,
but she held up a liquor store last year.
I smell bacon.
Let's see if he's wearing a wire!
Hey! Whoa! No! Not the face!
It is the real Krusty.
Look at that pacemaker scar,
the cattle skull birthmark...
and his famous
superfluous nipple.
At least you're not as bad
as Customs.
How could you, Krusty? I'd never
lend my name to an inferior product.
Oh!
They drove a dump truck full
Of money up to my house.
I'm not made of stone!
Krusty,
this camp was a nightmare.
They fed us gruel. They forced us
to make wallets for export.
And one of the campers
was eaten by a bear.
Oh, my God!
- Well, actually, the bear just ate his hat.
- Was it a nice hat?
- Oh, yeah.
- Oh, my God!
I'm gonna make it up to you. I'm gonna
Show you kids the time of your life.
Get ready for two weeks
at the Happiest Place on Earth--
Tijuana!
Ol?!