♪ The Simpsons ♪

-(chalk screeches)

-(bell rings)

(work whistle blows)

-(sucking)

-(register beeping)

(jazzy solo)

(tires screech)

-(tires screech)

-(horn honking)

(tires screech)

-Aah!

-(tires screech)

Ooh!

-BART: Yeah. Oh, yeah?

-LISA: Yeah. Yeah!

-Oh, yeah? Oh, yeah?

-Yeah.

-LISA: Yeah!

-Hey, what’s the problem here?

We were fighting over

which one of us loves you more.

You were? (sniffles)

Aw, well, go ahead.

-You love him more.

-No, you do.

-No, I don’t. No, I don’t.

-Yes, you do!

Look, you better get this all

out of your system right now!

I don’t want you embarrassing

me at my boss’s picnic.

Mmm. Marshmallow.

-(belches)

-Homer!

I’m trying to get at least

some of the unfortunate noises

out of my system

while I can, Marge.

I don’t want to embarrass

myself at the company picnic.

(disgruntled groan)

Are you sure that’s enough?

You know how the boss loves

your delicious gelatin desserts.

Oh, Homer, Mr. Burns just said

he liked it… once.

That’s the only time he’s

ever spoken to me

without using the word

“bonehead.”

There it is, kids!

Stately Burns Manor.

Heaven on Earth.

Okay, now look, my boss

is gonna be at this picnic.

I want you to show your father

some love and/or respect.

-Tough choice.

-I’m thinking respect.

Good to see you.

Glad you could make it.

Oh, thank you, Mr. Burns,

I’m so glad you invited us.

Not me. I had to miss

little league for this.

Quiet, Tom.

Oh, please,

please don’t fight.

Just go out back

and have a good time.

Fire that man,

Smithers.

I don’t want him

or his unpleasant family

to ruin my picnic.

He’ll be gone

by the tug-of-war, sir.

-Excellent.

-HOMER: Uh, afternoon, Mr. Burns.

Hi. Hello, there,

uh– uh–

-Simpson, Homer.

-Here you go, sir.

Ah! Oh, yes.

Uh, oh, and this must be

your lovely wife, Marge.

Oh, and look at little,

uh, Lisa.

Why, she’s growing

like a weed.

-And this must be, uh, Brat.

-Bart.

Don’t correct the man, Brat.

Oh, boss, look what we brought,

gelatin desserts.

Oh, for the love of Peter.

That’s all anybody brought.

Some damn fool went around

telling everyone

I love that slimy goop.

Well, toss it in the pile

over there.

And… make yourselves

at home.

Hear that, Dad?

You can lie around in your

underwear and scratch yourself.

-Now, you listen to me!

-BART: Whoa!

-Trouble, Simpson?

-No. (chuckles)

Just congratulating the son on

a fine joke about his old man.

(playful chatter)

Now remember,

as far as anyone knows,

we’re a nice,

normal family.

Hey, Bart, last one in

the fountain’s a rotten egg!

Hey!

D’oh! Be normal!

Be normal!

What an adorable little girl.

(chuckles)

Thank you.

Why don’t we dump them

in the nursery

and get a glass of punch?

Oh, I’m not much

of a drinker.

Hey, isn’t that your boy there

torturing the swans?

-(squawking)

-Bart!

(Marge groans)

Maybe I will take you up

on that punch.

MARGE: Gee, do you think

we should leave the kids unsupervised?

You’re right.

There.

-Bart! Lisa! (mumbles)

-(squawking)

-Where are you kids? Oh!

-Whoops.

-Got ya!

-Whoa, careful, Dad.

Blow a gasket,

you lose your job.

SMITHERS: Now hear this:

The father/son sack race

will begin in five minutes

on the north lawn.

Participation is mandatory.

Repeat, mandatory.

That is all.

You remember the rules

from last year?

Yeah. Shut my mouth,

and let your boss win.

-(squawking)

-Hey!

WOMAN: I don’t know

who to love more:

my son, Joshua, who’s captain

of the football team;

or my daughter, Amber, who got

the lead in the school play.

Usually, I use their grades

as a tiebreaker,

but they both got

straight A’s this term, so…

-what’s a mother to do?

-Mm-hmm.

Well, I sense greatness

in my family.

Your family?

Well, it’s a greatness

that others can’t see,

but it’s there.

And if it’s not

true greatness we have,

we’re at least average.

I don’t want

to alarm anyone,

but I think there’s

a little al-key-hol in this punch.

-Mr. Burns, are you ready?

-Yes.

-Are you set?

-Yes.

-(whispering) Go, Mr. Burns.

-(grunting)

(all cheering)

Man, this is pathetic.

I’m goin’ for it!

Bart, no!

Oh, oh, oh.

Oh, no, wait.

Oh, no. Bart, don’t.

Don’t. No!

(all laughing, cheering)

Close one this year.

(sinister laugh)

♪ Here we sit enjoying

the shade ♪

CHORUS: ♪ Hey, brother,

pour on the wine ♪

♪ Drink the drink that

I have made ♪

CHORUS: ♪ Hey, brother,

pour on the wine ♪

♪ He’s here at last

my one and only ♪

♪ Good-bye friends

And don’t be lonely ♪

CHORUS: ♪ Hey, brother,

pour on the wine ♪♪

-Marge, I need you!

-Hey, Homie!

Did you try the punch?

Snap out of it,

Marge.

You’ve gotta come with me.

The boss is going to make a toast.

Well, I’m not much

of a drinker.

Why, you picked a perfect

time to start. You…

♪♪ (“For He’s A Jolly

Good Fellow” off key)

MR. BURNS: Musicians,

cease that infernal tootling.

“Thank you all…

uh, for coming.”

(applause)

-Marge, knock it off.

-(scoffs) Well, I’m sorry.

-I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

-Marge!

“But now it’s time

to say good-bye.

Please, get off my property

until next year.”

I suggest you don’t dawdle.

The hounds will be released

in ten minutes.

(applause)

Did you have

a good time, son?

Yeah, thanks, Pop.

Aw, that’s the kind of

family unity I like to see.

-Smithers!

-Yes, sir?

Get that man’s name.

I predict big things for him

down at the power plant.

Quick, Bart,

give me a kiss.

Kiss you?

But, Dad, I’m your kid.

Bart, please?

Five bucks for a kiss.

(scoffs)

I have never seen

such an obvious attempt

to curry my favor.

Fabulous observation, sir.

Just fabulous.

(Marge humming)

Boy, I’m glad

that’s over.

Now we can go home

and act normal again.

-What do you mean?

-Aw, come on.

(kissing)

That cornball routine.

“I love you, Daddy.”

Give me a break.

-I pity you.

-Why?

-After you.

-Well, thank you so much.

-Me first! No, me. Me. Me.

-No, me. No, me. Me. Me.

Honey, you look so tired.

Would you like me to drive?

Oh, Homie, I think

I’m going to be sick.

♪ There was a farmer

had a dog ♪

♪ And Bingo

was his name, oh ♪

♪ B-i-n-g-o

B-i-n-g-o ♪

♪ B-i-n-g-o and Bingo

was his name, oh ♪♪

Homie, get in the car.

-This is where you belong.

-Yeah, Homer.

Room for one more.

ALL (chanting):

One of us. One of us.

One of us. One of us.

(all laughing sinisterly)

♪ B-i-n-g-o

B-i-n-g-o ♪

-♪ B-i-n-g-o ♪♪

-(sighs)

-(squawking)

-MAN: The father of the family

has worked all day

to find this food

for his children.

Unable to fend

for themselves,

the baby bald eaglets

are dependant on

their mother

regurgitating the food

which she has found.

-ALL: Hey!

-Look, everybody.

Yesterday was

a real eye-opener.

We’ve got to do better

as a family.

So tonight, we’re not going

to shovel food in our mouths

while we stare at the TV.

We’re going to eat

at the dining room table

like a normal family.

-Happy, Dad?

-Yes.

Good.

Commence shoveling.

No. We’re going

to say grace first.

Okay. Rub-a-dub-dub,

thanks for the grub.

(groaning)

No!

Ignore the boy, Lord.

Now, can the chatter,

and bow your heads.

(clears throat)

Dear Lord, thank you

for this microwave bounty,

even though

we don’t deserve it.

I mean, our kids are

uncontrollable hellions.

Pardon my French,

but they act like savages.

Did you see them

at the picnic?

Oh, of course you did.

You’re everywhere.

You’re “omnivorous.”

O Lord, why did you

smite me with this family?

-ALL: Amen!

-Let’s eat.

No, I’m not done yet!

But Homer, how long are we

supposed to sit here

and listen to you bad-mouth

us to the man upstairs?

I’m sorry, Marge,

but sometimes I think we’re

the worst family in town.

Maybe we should move

to a larger community.

-Oh!

-Don’t have a cow, Dad.

The sad truth is,

all families are like us.

You think so, huh?

Well, there’s only one way

to find out. Follow me.

Look at that, kids.

No fighting. No yelling.

LISA: No belching.

The dad has his shirt on.

MARGE: Look, napkins!

These people

are obviously freaks.

Oh, you think so?

Well, let’s see

what’s behind door number two.

LISA: What are they doing?

They’re having a conversation.

They actually enjoy

talking to each other.

I wish I could hear

what they’re saying.

Papa, I believe I heard

some rustling in the bushes.

Hmm. I did too.

Better get the gun.

Where’s he going?

Probably to get the old man

his pipe and slippers.

-(gun cocking)

-(all yelling)

-(gunshot)

-(all screaming)

(all sighing)

Whoa, look at this place.

What a dump!

It’s worse than you think.

(chuckling)

I just trampled

this poor sap’s flower bed.

-Homer, this is our house.

-(screams)

-Are you coming in, Homer?

-No, no.

(sighs) I wanna be alone

with my thought.

(door closes)

MAN: Fans are getting just

a little bit anxious here.

Another beer, Moe.

What’s a matter, Homer?

Bloodiest fight of the year.

You’re sitting there like

a thirsty bump on a log.

-Eddie.

-Evening, Moe.

-Want some pretzels?

-(chuckles) No, thanks. We’re on duty.

A couple beers

would be nice, though.

MOE: That’ll be

two bucks, boys.

Just kidding.

(chuckling)

Good one, Moe.

Listen, we’re looking for

a family of Peeping Toms

who’s been terrorizing

the neighborhood.

Quiet, boy. Let the nice people

enjoy their beers.

(growling)

Ah, don’t worry.

This dog has the scent.

Hey. What’s gotten into Bobo?

I got some wieners

in my pocket.

That figures.

Come on, you stupid dog.

(growling)

You know, Moe,

my mom once said something

that really stuck with me.

She said, “Homer,

you’re a big disappointment.”

And God bless her soul,

she was really on to something.

Don’t blame yourself, Homer.

You got dealt a bad hand.

You got crummy little kids

that nobody can control.

You can’t talk that way

about my kids!

Or at least two of them.

-Why, you got two I haven’t met?

-Why you–

Here’s five you haven’t met.

MAN: A tremendous right.

That’s just gotta hurt.

Ladies and gentlemen,

this fight is over!

(all cheering)

“All-Star Boxing”

is brought to you by…

Dr. Marvin Monroe’s

Family Therapy Center.

Huh? What?

WOMAN: Honey, aren’t you

going to work today?

MAN:

Oh, I don’t think so.

Honey, you have a problem,

and it won’t get better

till you admit it.

I admit this: You better

shut your big yap.

-Oh, you shut up.

-No, you shut up!

No, you shut up!

-Shut up!

-Shut up!

Why don’t you both shut up?

Hi, friends.

I’m Dr. Marvin Monroe.

Does this scene

look familiar?

If so, I can help.

No gimmicks. No pills.

No fad diets.

Just family bliss,

or double your money back.

So call today.

MAN: Dr. Marvin Monroe’s

Family Therapy Center.

Why don’t you call

right now?

When will I learn?

The answer

to life’s problems

aren’t at the bottom

of a bottle.

(chuckling) They’re on TV!

(touch tones)

(screaming)

(laughing)

All right,

time for a family meeting.

Why can’t we have a meeting

when you’re watching TV?

Now look,

you know and I know

this family needs help,

professional help.

So I’ve made us an appointment

with Dr. Marvin Monroe.

The fat guy on TV?

You’re sending us to doctor who

advertises on pro wrestling?

Boxing, Lisa, boxing.

There’s a world of difference.

Gee, Homer, are you sure

this is the right thing to do?

Honey, I’ve given

this matter a lot of study,

and of all the commercials

I saw, his was the best.

All it costs is $250.

We don’t have

that kind of money.

Well, then, we’re just

going to have to dig deep.

Marge, go get

the kids’ college fund.

Hey!

-Oh, Homer.

-Oh, come on, Marge.

Why scrimp now

on the off-chance

that they’ll actually

get in some place?

Forty-eight.

Forty-nine. Fifty.

Eighty-eight dollars

and fifty cents.

That’s it?

That’s the college fund

we’ve been saving for

all these years?

I guess I’d have needed

a partial scholarship.

Well, we’re not licked yet.

To save this family,

we’re going to have to make

the supreme sacrifice.

LISA: No, Dad.

Please, don’t pawn the TV.

Oh, come on, Dad,

anything but that.

Homer, couldn’t we pawn

my engagement ring instead?

Now, I appreciate that, honey,

but we need $150 here!

Afternoon, Simpson.

So what can I do for ya?

Would you pay $150

for this lovely Motorola?

Is it cable ready?

Ready as she’ll ever be.

Mister, you got

yourself a deal.

♪♪ (Muzak)

MARGE: All our money,

the college funds, the TV.

Homer, you’re driving a stake

through the hearts

of those who love you.

Hey, no pain, no gain.

Will you be paying

by cash or check?

Cash, of course. I’ve got

$250 right here with me.

I’m holding it right now.

Here it is. Look.

Check it out,

250 big ones.

If you really want to

impress her,

show her the big, empty space

where our TV used to be.

-Bart!

-MAN: Come on, family.

Let’s go celebrate

our newfound ability

to express love

for each other.

I’m taking you out for

frosty chocolate milkshakes.

KIDS: Yay!

(sighs) There go my young-girl

dreams of Vassar.

Hello,

I’m Dr. Marvin Monroe.

No doubt you recognize me

from TV.

-We would if we had one.

-Lisa!

No, no, Homer,

don’t stifle the youngster.

Your family must feel free

to express itself.

That’s what these pads

and jumbo markers are for.

I want you to draw for me

your fears, your anxieties,

the roots of your

unhappiness.

Now, take a deep,

cleansing breath.

(inhaling, exhaling)

And begin.

-HOMER: (humming)

-DR. MONROE: Mm-hmm. Uh-huh.

No surprises here.

-Homer?

-(humming continues)

Homer, what have you

got for us?

(humming continues)

-Homer?

-Oops, sorry.

I wasn’t paying attention.

Well, if you had been

paying attention,

perhaps you would have noticed

that your family sees you

as a rather stern

authority figure,

an ogre, if you will.

Now, Doctor, that’s not true.

Ogre is such a strong word.

Right on, Doc!

Another successful diagnosis.

-That does it!

-Wow!

(chuckles) Okay,

you wanna kill each other.

That’s good.

That’s healthy.

There’s nothing necessarily

wrong with hostile conflict.

All I ask is that you use

my patented aggression

therapy mallets.

-Good idea.

-All right.

I don’t know.

Okay. Let’s take another

deep, cleansing breath.

(inhaling)

(all grunting)

Wait a minute.

These mallet things are

padded with foam rubber.

What’s the point?

They’d work much better

without the padding, Doc.

-No, no. That’s not true.

-(grunts)

-Ah! Give me that.

-See?

Yes, well, that concludes

this portion of our treatment.

-Are we cured yet?

-(scoffs) Don’t be ridiculous.

You will be cured,

but it’s going to require

somewhat more

unorthodox methods.

-Unortho what?

-Don’t worry.

I’ll have plenty of time

to explain while I warm up the…

electric generator.

Everyone comfy?

(chuckles) Good.

Now, don’t touch any of

those buttons in front of you

for a very important reason,

i.e., you are wired into

the rest of your family.

You have the ability

to shock them,

and they have

the ability to shock–

-(electronic buzz)

-(screaming)

Just testing.

-Why you– Aw.

-No, Homer, not yet.

You see, this is what is known

as aversion therapy.

When someone

hurts you emotionally,

you will hurt them

physically.

And gradually you will learn

not to hurt each other at all.

And won’t that be

wonderful, Homer?

Oh, yes, Doctor.

-(buzzing)

-Whoa!

-(buzzing)

-Ah!

Bart, how could you shock

your little sister?

My finger slipped.

(screams)

So did mine.

-(buzz)

-(screams)

-Bart, Lisa, stop that.

-(buzzing)

(screaming, buzzing continue)

DR. MONROE:

No, no. Now, wait a minute.

Wait! Wait!

Folks, if I could–

This is not the way

to get healthy!

(buzzing, screaming continue)

No! You’ve got

to understand something!

(yelling)

-♪♪ (music distorts)

-People, please!

-(buzzing)

-(all screaming)

SMITHERS: Boy. Someone’s really

gobbling up the juice, sir.

Excellent. Excellent.

Perhaps this energy conservation

fad is as dead as the dodo.

-(screaming, buzzing continue)

-DR. MONROE: No, no!

Dr. Monroe, your other patients

have fled the building.

Stop! Stop!

You’re damaging

the equipment.

(electronic sizzle, hum)

Hey. Nice hair, Mom.

Gee, I thought we were

making real progress.

No, I’m sorry, you’re not!

Please,

you’ve just got to go.

Wait a minute, Doc.

Your TV commercial said,

“Family bliss

or double our money back.”

Oh, but that was just–

All right.

Get the money.

20, 40, 60, 80, 100.

20, 40, 60, 80, 200.

20, 40, 60, 80, 300.

20, 40, 60, 80, 400.

20, 40, 60, 80, 500.

Just go, and never tell

anyone you were here!

Wow, 500 smackers.

Homer, how wonderful,

our first pleasant surprise.

It’s not the money, as much as

the feeling that we earned it.

You did it, Dad.

Excuse me, dear.

Shouldn’t we be heading

down to the pawn shop

to get our TV back?

That piece of junk?

Forget it.

We’re gonna get a new TV.

Twenty-one inch screen,

realistic flesh tones

and a little cart

so we can wheel it into

the dining room on holidays.

BOTH: Yay!

Oh, Homer, we love you.

♪♪

-(mumbling)

-Shh!