The Simpsons.
- Whee! - Whoo-hoo!
- Ya-haa! - Yee... Oh! D'oh!
Happy First "A" Bart Simpson.
Happy First "A".
To you.
- Hey! - Oh, yes!
Thank you, thank you.
Now that our son is an honor student
I'm going to get one of those bumper stickers
that informs strangers of that fact.
Just a cotton-picking minute!
I've been getting A's since Gymboree.
What do you want, a medal?
You gave Bart one.
We love you.
An "A" in Astronomy!
How'd you do it?
I just buckled down and studied.
No, really.
Well,
it all started last week in Krabappel's class.
I was trying to breed the hamster with the lizard
to create an unholy super-creature
when I saw an even worse crime against nature!
Ah, head lice inspection day.
While the kids are out getting their nits picked,
we can have our own private cootie call.
Oh, you talk too much.
Let's do it on Martin's desk.
It is usually the cleanest.
I needed to get my mind on something else.
Anything else.
And for the first time in my life,
education was the answer.
"Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars..."
Come on, Edna, don't be tardy!
"Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars...
Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune,
Pluto."
So when I took the test,
the answers were stuck in my brain.
It was like a whole different kind of cheating!
Well, we couldn't be prouder.
Excuse me, sir.
Your credit card has been rejected.
D eadbeat. Deadbeat. Deadbeat.
Oh, how embarrassing.
Well, let me just give you one of my many other valid...
Run!
They're getting away.
Stop them, Mary Kay.
OK. So we can't pay for your precious food.
What are you gonna do about it?
Baila bamba.
Can we go now?
No, no.
Your playing, while technically proficient, lacks passion.
Fine. You want passion? I'll give you passion.
Blue.
Spanish eyes.
Teardrops are falling from your Spanish eyes.
When did this happen?
When did we become the bottom rung of society?
I think it was when that cold snap killed off all the hoboes.
Dad, what happened to the backseat?
I had to sell it for gas money.
Which I spent on a novelty horn.
Maybe we should talk to a financial planner.
Financial panther, eh?
Mr. Simpson, you're a dollar overdrawn.
Get him, Sheba!
I'm on board.
You haven't set aside anything for the future.
You know how it is with cops.
I'll get shot three days before retirement.
- In the business we call it "retirony." - What if you don't get shot?
What a terrible thing to say.
Now, look. You made my wife cry.
Well, I see you have several mortgages...
credit card debt, no savings, and you're supporting your father?
- Just give the word, and I'll cut him off. - I couldn't ask you to do that.
Consider it done.
Based on these figures,
I'm afraid you'll need to declare bankruptcy... several times.
Just look at this projection.
Marge, your posture looks terrible.
What's interesting is you'll continue losing money even after you're dead.
Your grave sites will go untended and vandalized.
Mr. Simpson, your intelligence profile indicates that you're too...
"stupid" to stick to a budget.
- Yes. Go on. - So, let me put this simply.
- You need more money. - But how do I get it?
I'm a financial planner, not a financial consultant.
- Sorry. - Now I'd like my fee, please.
I know you're not a deaf-mute, Mr. Simpson.
We've been talking for the last 20 minutes.
Uh, sir, I have a small personal request.
Oh, of course, Smithers. Anything.
I disabled the button, sir. Anyway, I need some time off.
As you know, I've been writing a musical about the Malibu Stacy doll.
A show about a doll?
Why... Why not write a musical about the common cat or the king of Siam?
Give it up, Smithers.
Actually, sir, we've been booked into a small theater in New Mexico.
Whoa. Whoa. Slow down there, maestro. There's a new Mexico?
Yes. I want to go there and make my dream come true. I'll just be gone for a week.
Oh, fine. I can amuse myself.
Curses. It's jammed.
Ho, ho, ho, hi-larious!
Well, with the old ball and chain gone,
maybe I can finally have a little fun at the office.
Ah! A candy shop.
Yes. I'll take two pounds of Bristol's toffee.
Oh, and don't wrap it too tightly. I'm hungry now.
You've made a powerful enemy today, my friend.
Wow. I never seen you have so many lunch beers before, Homer.
Oh, I... concur.
Word-a-day Calendar.
I'm just trying to work up the courage to ask Burns for a raise.
Or a highly paid internship.
Something to solve my money woes.
Hmm. This must be some sort of cafetorium.
Uh, here's your chance, Homer. Mr. Burns just...
entered the room.
What is this?
Some kind of force field around these vegetables.
That's the sneeze guard. You have to lean under it to get salad or sneeze on stuff.
Ah. Everything's so green and alive.
Mr. Burns, I was wondering if I could get a raise.
What kind of a raise?
- Whopping? - I see.
You have 30 seconds to wow me.
Well, sir... You see, sir, I've worked here a long time
and my wife has a game leg.
And my kids have game things as well.
I don't want to hear your whining.
I'm a bored and joyless old man. Give me a "larf."
A " larf'? OK. Let's see what's in the news today.
Oh, for the love of...
- Hurl this at that. - At Lenny? But he's a war hero.
- Well, let's decorate him then. - No!
Not even for... four dollars?
Ow! My eye! I'm not supposed to get pudding in it!
That was capital. My lung is aching.
I liked when I threw the pudding.
Do it again. I'll make it an even eight.
- You're the boss. - Ow! I'm in hell!
Let's keep the laughs coming, eh, Simpson?
What say I make you my executive in charge of recreation?
No. No. Better yet, my prank monkey.
Will you keep giving me money?
I can't have my little monkey running around in rags.
Whoo-hoo!
Hey!
What are you doing, man? That's Carl!
Let me help you.
There, there.
All right, prank monkey. Let's make mischief.
Ninety-eight...
ninety-nine...
one hundred.
Oh, if only the real chicks went down this easy.
Look at that comic book fellow calmly eating candy like a Spaniard.
Time for monkey to shine.
I'd like to buy a mint condition Spider-Man number one, please.
And I'd like an hour on the holodeck with Seven of Nine.
Oh! Saturn's rings!
Let me get that for you.
Paper bag or triple Mylar?
Uh, no, thanks. I'll just eat it here.
Oh, ooh! No! What are you doing?
Good, fair, poor!
Ah, that was uproarious. First-rate job, monkey.
- Do I get paid now? - Oh, where are my manners?
There.
You're so much more fun than Smithers.
Why, he doesn't know the meaning of the word "gay."
Sold separately.
Sometimes I feel like I've been sold.
Separately.
But out of the box
I find you poseable.
Lovable.
Just like me.
This is better than a movie... why?
OK... now!
Little help? Little help, please.
I made a boom-boom.
- Oh, gross! - Not where I pee!
Get that out of here!
The line in the ladies' room is far too long.
And so I hope you don't mind if I... Oh!
Baby made a boom-boom.
Oh, good heavens! Oh!
Here you go, monkey.
There. That's six years' worth of inoculations.
Here you are, my good man.
And while you're at it, throw in one of those polio shots.
Ooh, yes, sir.
Uh, anti-polio.
Homie, where did you get that ball of money?
I've been doing some outside projects for Mr. Burns.
- Really? Like what? - Ah, you know.
Business stuff. Uh, downsizing...
e-solutions, the glass ceiling.
Hmm. Well, I'm proud of you.
You're such a good provider. Kids, come on.
Thank your father for the injections.
Thank you, Dad.
Hey, Dad. Can I have some money for a panda cone?
Gah! What do you do with the $68 I send your mother every month?
Weekday Dad wanted a DVD player.
Look at their proud, hopeful faces.
Wait till they see that their rare Chinese panda
is nothing but a fat guy in a suit.
Why do I have to do the Lindy Hop?
Oh, that's the heart of the bit.
Now, courtesy of an anonymous donor, please welcome our new panda, Sim Sim.
Yea!
Don't be shy. That-a-girl.
Oh, I think she's getting ready to...
Yeah. She's doing the Lindy Hop.
That's it. Twenty-three skiddoo, 24...
twenty-five skiddoo.
Well, it looks like Sim Sim is a little frisky today.
So our trainers are gonna calm her down.
Don't worry, folks. Because of their thick, thick hides,
pandas only feel the slightest tickle from these powerful electric shocks.
Ohh. She's saying "I love you."
Can't... take... the pain. Ow!
- Sim Sim likes to boogie. - Something's wrong... terribly wrong.
Hey, there's our resident bull panda, Ping Ping.
With any luck, folks, these two will become
very, very close, if you know what I mean.
Huh? Help! Mr. Burns!
Oh, look. She's presenting.
We thought this would take years to happen.
Ping Ping just asked Sim Sim to marry him...
and I think she just said yes.
Oh, my God!
Ha! You ain't goin' nowhere, cutie.
Am I glad to see you guys. You gotta call...
Dad? The panda was you?
Did you see Daddy dance?
They all saw me dance.
Oh, Dad.
So this is your mysterious new job for Mr. Burns.
Yes. I humiliate myself for fistfuls of cash.
Oh, Dad, you have to stop.
- I know. - Well done, monkey.
That other panda gave some unexpected zazz to the festivities, eh?
Maybe for you. How come you didn't rescue me?
Too busy trying to keep my sides from splitting.
It's happened before.
Monty say, monkey do. What could be better?
Well, you could treat me with a little respect.
Oh, shut up, you tub of guts.
You see? That's what I'm saying.
Well, a little do-re-mi will smooth this over.
He doesn't want your dirty money.
Oh, come now. Everyone has his price.
Not my dad.
- The grown-ups are talking, honey. - Dad,
- how can you put a price on your dignity? - She's right.
Yes, I may be naked and reeking of panda love,
but I've got to stop this before it goes too far.
Take that back... for $903.
- I retract my statement. - Ha!
- Dad. - I mean, screw you!
Well, well. It looks like my monkey has evolved into a man.
A poor man.
Wha... Oh, why did he have to say that extra thing?
Forget about him, Dad. I'm proud of you.
Aw, thank you, sweetheart.
But what should I do with all this dirty, ill-gotten money?
I better throw it in the garbage.
Well, there's lots of needy kids out there.
I see what you're saying. I need to buy a gun.
No, Dad. You could really brighten the holidays for those less fortunate.
Yeah, right. It's time to rebuild my self-esteem.
Hey, what happened to...
Oh, good Lord! What a week!
- Excuse me, sir. - Yes?
I'd like to buy all these toys for some needy children.
Is this enough dirty, dirty money?
Why, it most certainly is!
Mr. Costington, something quite wonderful has happened.
Uh, no. Uh, no.
Uh, yes!
Why, I don't think I've ever seen such generosity.
You're a modern day Kriss Kringle, sir.
I'm just trying to dig myself out of a pit of shame.
Say no more. I've had a bit of a shoe-sniffing problem myself.
I'm still not allowed on the third floor.
It's OK.
Mr. Simpson, I just had a crazy thought.
We do a little Thanksgiving Day parade around here,
and you're about the right build
for a little fella they call Kriss Kringle.
- Hold still. - I'm so proud.
My dad will be the grand finale of the Thanksgiving Day parade.
- Wanna rehearse, Dad? - I don't need to rehearse.
Ho, ho, ho! Merry...
- Line. - Christmas.
Wha... Let me see that.
Well, looks like another beautiful 80-degree Thanksgiving Day
thanks to global warming.
- Isn't that right, Leeza Gibbons? - That's right, Kent Brockman.
Our broadcast is brought to you today by Costington's department store,
the thing downtown that's open
right next to the men's shelter.
Rusty the Clown?
Ah, Springfield gets the lamest balloons.
Are you kidding? There's Funky Winkerbean!
Over here, Funky!
Look, it's the Noid. Avoid the Noid. He ruins pizzas.
Hey, lady. Santa Claus is gonna be here, right?
- He just has to. - Something tells me he is.
Don't touch me! Nothing gives you that right!
- Say, Leeza. Do you like gingerbread? - No, not really.
Well, then you'll love this next float.
It's an all-gingerbread desk set.
Ho, ho, ho! Merry Everyone!
Ahoy-hoy, St. Nick.
"Pranksgiving?" Uh-oh.
Prepare to be boarded.
What are you doing here? I told you. I'm not your monkey anymore.
Silence, monkey. Now that you're Father Christmas,
we have an opportunity to bend this town over our knee...
and give it a pranking it will never forget.
Here's what we do.
Here's a float saluting the Native Americans,
who taught us how to celebrate Thanksgiving.
Interesting side note on this float.
The papier-mache is composed entirely of broken treaties.
They're good sports.
The answer is no, Mr. Burns. Not for any amount of money.
Not for one million dollars?
Oh, so much money.
But Santa can't be evil.
But it's so much money.
And here's the float everyone's been waiting for.
Yes. Whether you're Christian or just non-Jewish,
everybody loves Santa Claus.
Oh, he was supposed to be throwing out toys
but he seems to be hurling some sort of candy treats, Leeza.
Wait a minute, Kent. That is not candy.
That's fish guts.
There's Santa! Over here, Santa!
What did I do?
Ah, the doctor said I could take this patch off five minutes a day.
Hey, that's just enough time to see Santy Claus.
Oh! Why, Santa? Why?
Oh, no. Here come the gulls!
Oh, nice birdie.
Nice birdie. No! Not so nice!
Oh, Dad. You sold your soul.
- Not yet, honey. - Dad!
But if you're here, who's that on the float?
Ho, ho, ho! Merry "Fishmas"!
What's going on?
Let's just say Lisa gave me an early Christmas present,
the gift of dignity.
Baby made a boom-boom.
Captioned by Visual Data Media Services