CHOIR: ♪ The Simpsons ♪
(crow caws)
(theme music playing)
D'oh!
(tires screeching)
(grunts)
(whirring)
(grunting)
(whooshing)
(screeching)
(yells)
(Homer panting)
(screeching)
(Bart grunts)
-(zapping) -(yells)
(music playing)
PILOT: (screams) We're unbalanced!
It's not fair!
(explosion)
I'd like to call to order this secret conclave
of America's media empires.
We are here to come up with the next phony baloney crisis
to put Americans back where they belong--
in dark rooms, glued to their televisions,
too terrified to skip the commercials.
-Well, I think... -NBC, you are here
to listen and not speak!
I think we should go with a good old-fashioned
-public health scare. -(murmuring)
A new disease! No one's immune!
It's like the summer of the shark,
except instead of a shark, it's an epidemic...
and instead of summer, it's all the time!
-(agreeing murmurs) -MAN: That is smokin'!
Now I hate to be the guy who derails
what everybody else loves...
He loves being that guy.
But, Janice, we do have standards.
This can't be a made-up disease.
The only moral thing to do
is release a deadly virus into the general public.
We do have something
we've been holding onto, but it hasn't been tested.
Get over here, NBC.
(chuckling) Well,
we certainly believe in testing, but I...
Oh! (woozy moan)
(struggling breaths)
-Wow. Wow! -Oh, yeah!
So, we've got our deadly disease.
Now we just have to blame it on something
that's in every household...
something that people are a little bit afraid of already.
Housecat Flu is coming, people!
The Center for Disease Disinformation predicts
with some degree of probability that the Housecat Flu
might spread in the following
hypothetical outbreak pattern.
(congested coughing)
So petter beware, that warm body on your lap just might be
ready to destroy your tender vittles.
-(purring) -(screams)
(meows)
Springfielders are advised to stay tuned for more information
if they experience any of the following symptoms--
mild thirst, occasional hunger, tiredness at night...
(clamoring voices)
You know, I don't know when this was ever a good idea.
(meows)
(meowing)
Hurry up, boy!
We have to burn everything the cat touched,
before the virus makes us paranoid!
Homer!
Stop burning!
They have a vaccine!
All right. We'll get the vaccine.
(grunts, yawns)
Homer, did you know he was in the pile?
I thought he was an old clump of rags.
(clamoring voices)
Don't worry, people. We have enough vaccines for...
one child per family.
KRUSTY: I don't even have a kid that I admit to having.
Please use your time in line wisely
to "Sophie's Choice" your child.
-(irate grumbling) -What a crook!
This isn't the line for a movie.
Why are you wearing that costume?
Because, you see, I am afraid of needles,
but Wolverine is not.
Snikt! Snikt!
(ice cream truck tune plays)
(groans)
Need... acceptable currency... Ooh...
for delicious treat... Ooh!
(old-fashioned horn honks)
Mr. Burns? Where's he going?
-(tires screeching) -(thudding)
Yes, I'd like 37 snifters of your influenza syrup.
One for me, one for Smithers here,
and the rest for my hounds.
Give him what he wants.
He's the only taxpayer in this town.
But, Mr. Mayor, these people have waited in line.
And dogs can't even get the disease.
They'll see me take it and they'll want some.
(softly) Yes, you will.
Yes, you will, you little jelly belly.
Sir, perhaps we should get out of here,
before people start resenting you.
Oh! Hurry up and get in!
I'll drive.
(engine starts)
-(tires screech) -Whoopsie.
(crowd clamoring)
Hurry, everyone! Roll in the shards!
-Come on! Like this! (grunting) -(glass tinkling)
Healthy. Gettin' healthy. Ow!
Gettin' healthy... and very sleepy.
(sighs wearily)
(gasps) Ahh!
I feel as hale and hearty as an eohippus.
Mr. Burns, I did a little blood work earlier today,
and I'm afraid I've got a bit of hard news.
Spit it out, Doctor! I haven't got all day.
Yes, you certainly don't.
You see, I'm afraid you're dying.
-(gasps) -Dying?!
Yes. It's a number of factors, really--
whooping cough, hectic fever,
cancrum otis, Wellington's ooze,
the Lambeth plague, and skull collapse.
How long do I have?
Five, six weeks tops.
You might live to see the Wheat-Eared Warbler
return to Swinton Park.
But I wouldn't count on it.
(hard swallow)
You... want me to tell the employees, sir?
No. It's better that they hear it from me.
I'll tell them the truth in the simplest way I know how.
(lively music plays)
Aw, why did Burns make us all come here?
I bet he's got something up his sleeve.
I don't like that he hired a band to play ominous music.
(slow jazz playing)
(microphone feedback)
Good evening.
I have very sad news for all of you.
(grumbling, murmurs)
Or maybe he's going to jack up our electric rates.
Whew! I will have to hand-crank my wiener warmer.
Hand-crank my wiener warmer!
The truth is... I'm dying.
Hell, yeah!
Finally, a break for the black man!
This better not be a gag!
It's not! My days are Roman-numeraled!
(cheering)
Stop this! Stop this at once, or I'll...
Or what? You're just gonna die soon anyway!
(laughter)
I'm warning you!
You are making a very powerful temporary enemy!
Sir, you'd better not rile them up.
The first course is oysters on the half shell.
(wild slurping)
-(crowd shouting) -(grunting)
I see. I'm well and truly hated.
However, you will change your tune
when you see the legacy I'm leaving behind me.
I'm leaving all my money to an orchard
that will grow inedible "me"-shaped fruits.
They're as addictive as they are poisonous.
(melodramatic piano music plays)
Melt his ice sculpture!
(clamoring)
It's starting to drip!
(laughing maniacally)
♪ La-la-la-la-la, la-la-la... ♪
I haven't a friend in the world.
-You have me, sir. -I pay you, Smithers.
No kind of love can come from one man paying another.
-Well, but there's... -I'll just retire to my bed.
Uh... that's where we put everyone's coats.
Shred them in the wood chipper, and use the rags to wax my car.
(grinding)
(huffs) Why does everyone hate me?
(grinding)
Sir, what are you doing?
Smithers, I want to die quietly, on my own terms...
crushing as many of those baby sea turtles as I possibly can.
Good-bye, insufficiently cruel world!
(sobbing) Oh, no...
(grunting)
(thunderclap, zapping)
(zany thudding)
Anthill, wasp nest,
moose poop, Mr. Burns...
Mr. Burns?!
(moans)
My poop stick has brought him back to life!
But which end? (sniffs)
(gasps) What do you want?
Come on, man, leave me alone.
Friend?
You my mommy-daddy-puppy?
Whoa! Your brains have turned to oatmeal!
My name Oatmeal?
This is too weird, man.
(panting)
Wait for Oatmeal!
(groans)
-Hmm. -(whimpers)
(grumbles)
-(groaning) -Oh!
What am I gonna do with you?
(humming a tune)
Look, I know you're cool now,
but my dad hates you more than celery,
and my mom said no new pets, so I'm hiding you in my room.
Oatmeal accept premise.
MARGE: Bart, who are you talking to?
(Mr. Burns whining)
And what's all that noise?
Ah, I'm playing with my Sergeant Activity doll.
DOLL: Why not buy another of me?
-(door creaks) -Hmm.
Well, okay.
(humming a tune)
(chomping)
Okay, okay! I'll find you some food.
(groans) Me not feel good.
(train whistle blows)
Hey, pal, you look like you lost your best friend.
Mm. He was more than a friend.
He was the reason I got up in the morning. (sniffles)
Because he would inject me with coffee at 6:00 a.m.
in the back of the head. (sniffles)
My new boss will never take his place!
New boss, huh? What's he like?
(sighs) Oh, a lot like my old boss.
Ruthless. Went to Yale.
Made a fortune in energy.
-Basically hairless. -Oh, yeah.
He likes to stack men naked.
-I guess that's a start. -(train grinding)
A philanthropist, a humanitarian,
a man of peace...
these are among the people who've come today
to spit in Montgomery Burns' open grave.
The fact that Burns' 37-pound body was never found
did nothing to lessen the salivary salvos.
-(gathering spit) -Hold, please.
You may continue.
I hope they use that spit for a good cause,
like sealing wedding envelopes.
Or helping a railroad worker grip his sledgehammer!
Now they're dancing on his grave!
Dance, you sons of bitches!
-Dance like it's me down there! -(spits)
Thank God Mr. Burns isn't alive to see this.
BART: Come back!
I'm not finished giving you your bath!
(grunts)
(gasping)
(grunting)
DOLL: Attack during their sacred holiday!
Hmm, apparently Mr. Burns is in a state of shock
from the trauma he underwent.
Oh, man, this is great!
The most evil man in town is in our power.
(evil laughter)
He will do my bidding...
at that fantasy football auction.
And anything else my limited imagination can come up with.
(sadistic laughter)
Just because Mr. Burns was mean to you,
that doesn't give you the right to abuse him when he's helpless.
Marge, it's the golden rule--
treat others the way they mess with you.
It's not up to you.
We're going to take him to our moral and civic leaders.
They'll know the right thing to do.
All those in favor of treating Mr. Burns
the way he messed with us, say "aye."
-CROWD: Aye! -People of Springfield!
To quote Shakespeare,
"The quality of mercy is not strained."
(crowd booing)
You know, it takes a lot for an eight-year-old
to stand up in front of the whole town!
Eight-year-old? I always thought you were a midget!
We're called "little people," and I'm not one.
People of Springfield, as a nerd,
I understand your desire for revenge,
but this sweet, harmless man
is not the same remorseless monster who tormented us all.
He's close enough!
Yeah, Seaside Heights ain't Maui,
but, uh, you take what you can get. Whoa!
(groans)
(chittering)
(zapping)
You done pullin' the wings off of those bees?
Almost, Mr. Vice President.
May I ask why I'm doing this?
I don't know. I'm bored.
When my old boss got bored, he liked to listen
to Thomas Edison reciting "Mary Had a Little Lamb"
on a wax cylinder.
What do you think I am, 1,000 years old?
I got a myPod full of Lee Greenwood.
(hums)
(snores)
Now, boy, everyone in town gets Burns
for half an hour to do as they will.
This town can't teach its kids or collect its garbage,
but we lead the nation in pointless revenge.
-Amen. -(squeals delightedly)
Okay, Burnsie, follow the carrot.
(music playing)
Dad, you're gonna wreck him for everybody.
Don't worry, boy.
Another girder always swings in for you to walk on
right when you get to the end.
(moans)
Where's the other girder? Ow!
Okay, here's your choice--
cash in my hands or blood on the jerky.
I believe you want the assistant manager, sir.
Oh, I can't shoot him. I've got him next.
Well, that is your bad luck, because he is mine right now.
Come back in half an hour. He can be your accomplice.
I was going to take him ice skating.
-What was that? -Nothing.
What was that? Ice skating?
Do you do axels and salchows?
-What do you do? -(groans)
-Check out my new dad. -Sorry, lame-o.
It's 2:00, which makes him
-my Uncle Ed for an hour. -No.
It's Saturday, which makes him that guy at the youth center
who really believes in me.
There's still time for me to turn my life around, right?
It's not that easy, man.
(crying)
(doorbell rings)
All yours.
What did you do with him?
Found a way to use him as a bong.
(coughs)
(moans)
(Lisa groans)
Dad, Mr. Burns is here for you again.
Oh, already?
A little tired of revenge, are we?
Yeah. I've done all I can do in that medium.
All right.
Mr. Burns, I'm going to show you
that not all of us in this town are vindictive and cruel.
-(shotgun cocking) -Not today.
I thought after all you went through
you'd just might want to spend an hour
in a place where you felt at home.
Lots of room for friends.
Actually, sir, the man who lived here didn't have many friends.
But you're a better person than he ever was.
(humming)
(gasps)
That's me.
Yes. Technically, it's you.
But like I said, people change...
And they can also bloody well change back!
Eep.
Daddy's home.
-(vibrating) -(sighs)
Don't have time for the papers, Smithers.
Any terrorist attacks on American soil today?
-I'm sorry, but, no. -Oh...
Smithers, trading me in for a younger model, I see.
Mr. Burns, you're alive!
I'm so happy, I could... hug you.
(scoffs) And me smell like drugstore cologne
the rest of the day?
I don't think so.
You may hug my shadow.
Oh!
-Oh! -(Cheney clears throat)
Oh, Mr. Vice President.
I've loved this time we've spent in this dormant volcano, but...
You're leaving me, aren't you?
I-I am.
You realize that every time I don't get what I want
Al Qaeda wins.
-Can I go now? -Yes.
I just need to erase your memory.
(zaps)
(moaning)
(humming)
(helicopter approaches)
BURNS (on megaphone): Attention, insects.
The foot of reckoning has arrived.
Hey there, Mr. Burns.
For our half hour, I thought we'd have a picnic in the park.
Silence, you sadistic monster.
I've got my memory back,
and I'm going to wreak a terrible vengeance.
Taking an idea I got from a Stephen King book,
I'm going to cover this town with a dome!
(laughs wickedly)
It's been done.
Really? You don't say.
-Did you know about this? -Mm-hmm.
I see.
Well, what if I cover you all
with a cube of bulletproof Plexiglas?
Uh, it's pretty much the same thing.
Plus, we could always dig ourselves out,
although that never seems to occur to anybody.
Set her down, Smithers.
Mr. Burns, you can't hurt us after all we've done for you.
What the devil are you talking about?
You were given six weeks to live,
and you've outlived it.
I think what kept you alive
was that for once in your life you were helping other people.
Could it be?
Perhaps kindness did keep me alive.
Young man, would you like a lemon drop?
-Mmm! -(gasping)
Gah!
(crying)
It wasn't kindness that was keeping me alive.
It was bile building up inside.
Loathing is my life blood and rage my royal jelly.
So, yes, thank you, Springfield,
for giving me the secret to eternal life-- hate!
You're welcome.
What are you doing here?
You were my father for two hours,
and I'm not letting this dad get away.
Oh, preposterous!
I won't be Bismarcked into fathering anyone.
Listen, old man.
I need someone to cheer me on in the school play,
and it's gonna be you, or this copter's going down.
You know I'll do it.
(man coughs)
Thank God your son can't see the way you're behaving.
My son? My son?
The truth is I don't have a son!
Haw haw!
(sadder) Haw haw.
Haw... haw.
That's my boy.
(music playing)
-(crowd murmuring) -Shh.
Subtitled by Laura Smith