♪ The Simpsons ♪
-(chalk screeches)
-(bell rings)
(work whistle blows)
-(register beeping)
(jazzy solo)
(tires screech)
-(tires screech)
-(horn honking)
(tires screech)
-(tires screech)
WOMAN (on radio):
Now to our own pie in the sky–
Bill Pie
in the KBBL traffic copter.
-So come in, Bill.
-BILL: Bad news, drivers.
There’s an overturned melon
truck on the interstate.
Oh, it’s a mess.
There’s lots of rubbernecking
and melon wrestling going on,
so expect delays–
-Hey, doughnuts!
-Bart, there’s one left, and it’s mine.
-Aw, Homer!
-Aw, Dad!
-(horn honks)
-Uh-oh, school bus!
Cool your jets, man.
We’re comin’.
You forgot the special
lunches I made.
-That’s okay, Mom!
-We got money!
-Now, just a darn–
This is Bill Pie,
your pie in the sky,
-saying good-bye.
-♪ KBBL ♪
Well, Maggie,
it’s just you and me again.
(sucking slowly)
MAN (on radio): This is KBBL,
K-Babble, all talk, 24 hours a day.
If you’d like to share your
embarrassing problem with our audience,
we invite you to call our
therapist of the airwaves,
Dr. Marvin Monroe.
Our number is 555-PAIN.
Don’t be afraid.
Call now.
-(dial tone, dialing)
-(Marge clears throat)
MARGE: Hello.
I’d like to talk to Dr. Monroe.
First name, age, problem?
I’m Marge, 34,
and my problem is my husband.
He doesn’t listen to me.
He doesn’t appreciate me.
I don’t know how much more
of this I can–
Hey, lady, save your whining for when
you’re on the air, okay?
(bird squawks)
Okay, let’s see.
Next we have Marge.
She’s 34 and trapped in
a loveless sham of a marriage.
Hey, turn it up.
I love hearing those wackos.
Tell me ‘bout
your husband, Marge.
MARGE: Well–
(clears throat)
When we were dating,
he was sweeter…
and more romantic,
and 40 pounds thinner,
(sobbing) and he had hair,
and he ate with utensils.
What was that last thing
you said?
-(Marge sobs)
Hey, isn’t that your wife, Homer?
Don’t be ridiculous.
My wife worships
the ground I walk on.
DR. MONROE: Marge, it’s what
I call “harsh reality time.”
Your husband sees you
as nothing.
-Oh. Okay. Well, thank you.
-No, no, no, don’t hang up.
The pig has made you
into his mother.
You are not the hot love
object you deserve to be.
I’m as sure of it as I’m
sure my voice is annoying.
Tonight, the second he comes
through that front door,
you’ve got to tell him
you’re fed up,
and if he doesn’t start
loving, you will be leaving.
Leave Homer?
-Please, don’t use his real name!
-Leave Pedro?
-Can you be that honest?
You’ll tell him right when
he comes home from work.
-Say it like you mean it.
-(loudly) Yeah!
-DR. MONROE: Attagirl.
Aw, come on, Bart. Not again.
(line ringing)
Ah, where’s your
sense of humor?
-MAN: Moe’s Tavern.
-Hello. Is Al there?
-Yeah, Al. Last name, Coholic.
Lemme check.
Phone call for Al–
Al Coholic!
-Is there an Al Coholic here?
Wait a minute.
Listen, you little yellow-bellied
rat jackass.
If I ever find out who you are,
I’ll kill ya!
-(dial Tone)
I hope you do find that punk
someday, Moe. Fill ‘er up.
Is everything okay, Homer?
Usually you have a quick one,
some peanuts, a hunk
of beef jerky, pickled eggs,
and you’re outta here.
Let’s just say I don’t feel like
goin’ home tonight. Jar, please.
Hey, you can level with me.
-You got a domestic situation?
-You might say that.
My wife’s gonna leave me
‘cause she thinks I’m a pig.
Marge is right. You are a pig.
You can ask anyone in this bar.
Hey, Barney, am I a pig?
You’re no more
of a pig than I am.
(belches loudly)
-Oh, no!
-See? You’re a pig.
Barney’s a pig.
Larry’s a pig. We’re all pigs.
Except for one difference.
Once in a while,
we can crawl out of the slop,
hose ourselves off
and act like human beings.
Homer, buy your wife some
flowers and take her out
for a night on the town.
Candles, tablecloth,
the whole nine yards.
Gee, a romantic evening.
Nah, she’s too smart
to fall for that.
I’m not done. After dinner,
the two of you are going to check into
the fanciest motel in town…
and not check out
until the next morning,
if you get my drift.
I read you loud and clear.
Heh, heh, heh, heh!
-(Maggie sucking)
-Wow, a quarter past 6:00.
What’s keeping Dad?
Yeah, who’d possibly
be late on meatloaf night?
(bell rings)
Uh, I’d like some flowers.
What kind of flowers?
You know, pretty ones,
not dead.
We have some beautiful
long-stem roses.
-They’re $55 a dozen.
-One, please.
-Hey, Mom.
-How ‘bout some grub?
Your husband sees you as nothing.
The pig has made you
into his mother.
You are not the hot love
object you deserve to be,
deserve to be.
If he doesn’t start loving…
Marge, I, uh, love you.
No, that’s not good.
Marge, honey, I love you.
Oh. Um–
Marge, I love ya, baby.
Marge, sweetie, “hooney,”
Ah, this’ll never work.
(keys jingling)
-I love you, Marjorie.
-Oh, Homer.
I love you too.
-(touch tone dialing)
-A little predinner entertainment.
-MOE: Moe’s Tavern.
-Is Oliver there?
-Oliver Klozoff.
Hold on. I’ll check.
Oliver Klozoff!
-Call for Oliver Klozoff!
And I made reservations
at the Chez Paree.
But, Homer, it’s so expensive.
It matters not, mon frère.
And after desserts,
we’ll adjourn to our
second-floor room
at the Offramp Inn.
Oh, Homer!
I feel giddy!
Wait. What about a baby-sitter?
-Not to worry.
MOE: Listen, ya lousy bum.
If I ever get a hold of you,
I’ll cut your belly open.
Must be a crossed wire.
(touch tone dialing,
line ringing)
WOMAN: Rubber Baby Buggy
Bumper Baby-sitting Service.
This is Marge Simpson.
-I’d like a baby-sitter for the evening.
-Wait a minute.
The Simpsons.
Lady, you’ve gotta be kidding!
Rubber Baby Buggy Bumper
Baby-sitting Service.
Hello. This is Mr. Sampson.
Did your wife just call
a second ago?
No, I said Sampson,
not Simpson.
Thank God!
Those Simpsons,
what a bunch of savages!
-Especially that big-ape father.
Actually, the Simpsons
are neighbors of ours,
and we’ve found them to be
a quite misunderstood and
underrated family.
Mom, you look so glamorous.
Well, tonight is
a very special night.
Your father is taking me out
for dinner and dancing.
-Dad dances?
-Like an angel.
♪ Ba, ba ♪
♪ Ba-ba, ba-ba, ba-ba
ba-ba, ba, ba ♪
♪ Ba, ba, ba, ba-ba ♪
-♪ Ba-ba, ba-ba, ba,
ba ba, ba, ba-ba ♪
Work that body, Homer.
You know, one day you’ll learn
-to move like your old man.
-Not if I can help it.
(laughs) Son, there’s
not a woman alive…
who can resist a man
who knows how to mambo.
You don’t have a clue,
do you, Dad?
Out, boy.
-(exhales) What a grump.
Hmm. Hmm.
Hmm! Hm, hm.
Hmm? Hee.
Smooth as a baby’s behind!
♪ Ba, ba, ba-ba, ba-ba
ba-ba, ba-ba, ba, ba ♪
(doorbell rings)
Precious, I think
I hear the doorbell.
I think you’re right,
dumplin’. Bart! Get the door!
Aye, aye, mambo man.
-(both gulp)
♪ Ba, ba, ba-ba, ba-ba
ba-ba, ba, ba ♪
You must be the baby-sitter.
-Yes. I am Miss Botz.
-Just don’t stand there, boy.
Help Miss Botz
with her suitcases.
I can handle my own luggage.
Thank you for coming
on such short notice, Miss Botz.
Here are the phone numbers of
the restaurant where we’ll be dining,
and the motel where we’ll
be spending the night.
You’ll have to put Maggie
to bed now,
but Bart and Lisa can stay up
for another hour.
Until then, they can watch
a tape from our video library.
Oh, boy! “The Happy Little Elves
Meet the Curious Bear Cub.”
Oh, the Elves! The Elves!
Bye, kids!
Watch out for the boy.
Mmmwha! Bye, now.
Mmmwha! Be good.

  • Mmmwha! Gotta go.
  • ♪ Ba, ba ♪
    ♪ Ba, ba, ba-ba, ba-ba
    ba-ba, ba, ba ♪♪
    Come, children. Let’s go watch
    “The Happy Little Elves.”
    Look, lady, we’ve seen
    the Crappy Little Elves
    about 14 billion times.
    Maybe we can watch
    some real TV.
    We’re gonna watch the tape.
    Aw! That’s merely suggested
    viewing matter, lady.
    Mom lets us watch
    whatever the hell we want.
    I said you’re gonna watch
    this tape.
    And you’re gonna do what I say,
    or I’m gonna do something to you.
    And I don’t know what that is,
    because everybody has always
    done what I say.
    They all look so tasty,
    but I think I’ll eat
    this one right there.
    Why don’t you pick one

-that’s a little more frisky, sir.
Well, when you choose one
that’s floating upside down,
it somewhat defeats the purpose
of selecting a live lobster.
Oh, okay. Then I’ll take that
one there with the beady eyes.
Excellent choice, sir.
May I lead you to your table?
Oui, oui. After you.
And I’ll be seeing you later.
Help! Help!
Faster, faster!
We gotta save Bubbles.
Oh, man,
I can’t take it anymore.
-But I want to see what happens!
-You know what happens.
They find Captain Kook’s
All the elves dance around
like little green idiots.
I puke. The end.
Bart, you’re just like Chilly,
the elf who cannot love.
-Now for some real TV.
-(gunfire, siren wailing)
All right! “America’s
Most Armed and Dangerous.”
Oh, no! Bart!
We’ll have nightmares!
Relax. This is cinema vérité.
When the brutal,
slow-motion killing starts,
I’ll tell you
to shut your eyes.
The Cue Ball Killer
should be considered
extremely armed
and dangerous.
If you think you’ve seen him,
call 1-800-U-SQUEAL.
MARGE: Homer,
you look just like a little boy.
HOMER: ‘Cause I’m so carefree?
MARGE: No, because
you’re wearing a bib.
-More champagne?
Time for a fill-up.
Garçon! Another bottle of your
second-least-expensive champagne.
The defenseless youngsters
were tied up and gagged
in the living room…
while the bandit roamed
through the house at will,
stealing the valuable objects
it took the family a lifetime to shop for.
♪♪ (Lounge)
You know, Marge, this is
just like when we were dating.
Except for one thing–
no chaperone.
Ho, ho, hoo!
The Baby-sitter Bandit
has left a trail of her daring
nighttime robberies
across the continental
United States.
She could be
lurking anywhere,
about to descend upon another house
full of unsuspecting dupes.
In a moment,
we will show you
a picture of the real
Baby-sitter Bandit,
Miss Lucille Botzcowski.
Remember, she may be using
a clever alias–
…and should be considered
armed and dangerous!
-(screaming continues)
-(Bart and Lisa screaming)
Run for it!
(shoes squeal)
-(busy signal)
-Oh, no!
♪♪ (Radio: Muzak)
Don’t forget to tell me
when you see the offramp.
Oh, there it–
No problemo.
We’ll just get off
at the next exit.
Bart. Bart.
Time to brush your teeth,
wash your face…
and say your prayers.
Are you in… here?
Oh! Homemade pickled beets.
Go ahead. Take ‘em all.
-(Bart grunts)
Seeing as no one was hurt,
I think it would be really
silly to dwell on this.
-(line ringing)
-Come on! Come on!
-(line clicks)
Hello, vigilant viewer.
You have reached “America’s
Most Armed and Dangerous.”
I’m calling to report
the Baby-sitter Bandit!
She’s in our house right–
HOMER: Come on, Marge.
Let me carry you over
the threshold.
MARGE: Okay, but watch out.
Don’t slam my head like
last time.
Sheesh! Eleven years ago,
and you’ve never forgotten it!
-Don’t muss my hair!
-Ohh! Oh! Oh!
Yi! Oh! Yeow!
-Whee! This is fun!
We know who you are,
Miss Botz.
Or should I say
Miss Botzcowski?
You’re the Baby-sitter Bandit.
You’re a smart, young man, Bart.
I hope you’re smart enough
to keep your mouth shut.
He isn’t.
You’re crazy if you think you’re
gonna get away with this, lady.
You can’t–
I’m really not a bad person.
Here. While I finish up,
you guys can watch the rest
of your favorite videocassette.
(muffled shouting)
Quiet, Bart!
Let’s make the best of this.
Maybe I’ll go slip
into something
a little more comfortable.
Oh! Your blue thing
with the things?
-You’ll see.
-Well, shake a leg, mama.
(toy squeaks)
Kid stuff!
Hardly worth it.
Lotta junk.
Stupid Sampsons.
-Maggie! Maggie!
-(muffled shouting)
Come here!
-Good-bye, everybody!
Maggie, wanna watch
“The Happy Little Elves” again?
Okay, but you have
to untie me first.
Oh, Homer!
Oh, ho, ho, ho.
Oh, so you got out
of your crib.
I guess you need
to be tied up too.
-(Maggie sucking)
-Maggie, where are you?
-(sucking continues)
-Maggie! Maggie!
-Heh, heh, heh.
-(sucking continues)
-(screams, grunts)
(Homer sighs)
Homer, would it spoil
the mood if I called home,
you know,
just to check on the kids?
-(dial tone)
-(line ringing)
Homer, wake up!
There’s no answer at home.
-So I’m worried.
I think we should go home.
All right.
I suppose my work here is done.
Heh, heh, heh, heh!
WOMAN: Hello, vigilant viewer.
How may we help you?
We caught her! We caught
the Baby-sitter Bandit!
She’s tied up
at our house right now.
-Ask if there’s a reward.
-Is there a reward?
If she’s convicted,
we get T-shirts!
How come all
the lights are on?
I don’t like
the looks of this.
(“The Happy Little Elves” on TV)
-MARGE: Miss Botz!
-HOMER: Miss Botz!
-(Marge gasps)
-Good Lord!
What have those little
hellions done now?
We’re so sorry.
We’re so sorry!
Please turn off the TV.
I can’t tell you how chagrined
we are about all of this.
Oh, these things are heavy.
Just so there’s no hard feelings,
here’s double your pay.
-No, no, triple.
-Thank you.
Mr. Sampson, can I give
you a bit of advice?
Don’t turn your back
on that boy for a second.
(siren wailing)
Ain’t that the truth?
You know, one time he–
-(siren growing louder)
This way to the scene
of the crime, men!
I got her tied up in the den.
Just a minute, young man!
I don’t know what kind
of shenanigans
you’ve been
pulling this time,
but I just had to untie
your baby-sitter
and pay her off so that–
Excuse me, sir,
are you saying to the world
that you just
aided and abetted
the escape of the notorious
Baby-sitter Bandit?
-The what?
-The Baby-sitter Bandit.
Oh, uh, are you sure
this microphone works?
Uh, well, I wouldn’t say I aided her.
This is on, right?
Because actually
it was quite a struggle.
Oh, Homer!
Have you ever seen
a kung fu movie?
It was just like that.
But now I know her moves.
So, if you’re listening
to me, lady,
you’d better think
long and hard
before trying something like
this on Homer Simpson again!
(light switch clicks)
Lord, help me.
I’m just not that bright.
Oh, Homer, don’t say that.
The way I see it,
if you raise three children
who can knock out and hogtie
a perfect stranger,
you must be
doing something right.
Honey, can we make up again?
Oh, my goodness!