You're watching The Simpsons.
You know your life sucks. Just get drunk like you always do.
Catch all-new episodes Sundays and check out our other Fox programs...
Brooklyn Nine-Nine, Bob's Burgers and Family Guy.
What is this, and how can I make the rest of my life about it?
Only on Fox.
Today's safety film Don't Wear Jewelry During Sports
has been cancelled.
Instead we'll watch a movie that made me fall in love
with showing movies I've watched to other people.
(kids booing)
(exclaiming)
That's right, the 1967 classic
Doctor Dolittle, which answers the question:
what if an elderly unmarried doctor
decided to focus his practice on animals?
The running time is 152 minutes!
The running time is now!
(grunts)
(horse neighing)
(neighing)
(neighing continues)
(groans)
He's been giving that horse an eye exam forever.
(neighs) MILHOUSE: It's a carrot, stupid!
Isn't it a pity you're a seal?
(seal grunts)
KIDS: Ew!
That dude's making it with a fish!
I kissed a light socket once, and I woke up in a helicopter.
♪ This is the world of Dr. Dolittle ♪
♪ The wonderful world of Dr. Dolittle... ♪
This is Anthony Newley at his worst.
(singing along): ♪ Where crocodiles talk
♪ And elephants sing
♪ And animals do most any old thing. ♪
♪ My friend the doctor
♪ And me.
That movie was so bad, it actually stinks.
(sniffing)
Whoa, it's not the movie.
It's Bart!
(kids sniffing)
(kids clamoring in disgust)
I don't stink.
You're just smelling the old boogers in your noses.
You got to pick those things... It's called hygiene.
If I may join in the mockery,
Lisa Simpson also has an appalling odor.
(kids sniffing)
What? (gasps) I don't smell.
Girls don't smell!
(deep sniff)
Sorry, girl, but you smell.
(singsongy): Stink-sons! Stink-sons!
KIDS (singsongy): Stink-sons! Stink-sons!
Children can be so cruel.
ALL (singsongy): Stink-son! Stink-son!
Then they called me Stink-son.
That's not even my name.
What happened?
Our family's been ostracized for lots of things,
but never our hygiene.
Rarely our hygiene.
Never my hygiene!
(groans) I think I know
where the smell is coming from.
Mold. (groans)
It's worse than a Grampa hug in the summer.
I thought smelly clothes only happened
to working mothers.
This is all the money I've found
in Homer's pants pockets over the years.
I was saving it to buy a spice rack
instead of always renting one.
But I guess we'll have to spend this money
on a new washing machine.
We cannot continue on as the Stink-sons.
Oh, Stink-sons!
(laughing)
Hey!
When I return, we will no longer
have to wear attic clothes.
♪
(humming) (bell dings)
Mmm...
smoked meat.
Mmm!
(sniffing)
(horns blaring) Move it, fat ass!
I'm trying to text! Oh, I spilled my pee jar!
Watch it, Stink-son!
A roadside barbecue stand?
Everything tastes better when it's near a road.
Try a taste.
Guaranteed to blow your mouth's mind.
Mmm.
♪
(laughing)
Oh, look at 'em go!
(laughing deliriously)
(laughing)
Ooh, charred and moist!
Like Satan's burps.
The grill marks are shaped like a honeycomb!
That's why I call her the Hive.
She's been passed down through my family for generations.
They say the Hive's made from a meteor...
which burned off my great-grandpappy's beard,
exposing his weak chin to the entire township.
(laughter)
(grunts)
It was a gift from the heavens.
The perfect smoker.
The Hive has never been cooled down,
never been cleaned.
Mixing meat, fat and smoke into pure magic.
Mmm... smoked me.
You look like a man who needs a smoker in his life.
It just so happens that the Hive
is available for purchase. (gasps)
But why would you give up your most prized possession?
That'd be like Stephen Hawking selling his talking motorcycle.
My old lady and I are saving up to live our dream
of moving further away from our grandchildren.
(moans)
But if I don't come home
with a washing machine, my wife will be so mad.
Oh, should I do the thing I'm supposed to do
or the thing everybody knows I'm gonna do?
You bought a grill?!
It's not a grill.
It's a smoker.
That you can grill on.
That money was supposed to de-stink our children,
and instead you bought a... doo-hickey
to stuff your greedy face.
(groans angrily)
Don't worry, Homer.
Nothing fixes bad times like good food.
Also, I died.
Hmm.
(groaning angrily)
(sniffing)
Huh?
Mmm! Mmm! Mmm!
I can't believe you cooked this.
Well, the secret to barbecue
is sitting around doing nothing.
No wonder I'm great at it.
Mmm... smoky carrot.
And, Maggie, this is for you.
(squeals)
Come on, just one bite.
Nah-uh! Uh-huh.
Never! Ever.
Forget it. Remember it.
No way, Jose!
Sí way, Josefina.
Nothin' doing.
Everythin' undoing.
Oh, fine! One bite.
(gasps)
Ooh!
(laughing excitedly)
Homie, I finally understand gluttony.
Welcome to America, baby.
(all chewing loudly)
(barking)
Sorry for dropping by,
but we smelled your barbecue and couldn't resist.
Here's some Carl-slaw to go with it.
I call it "Carl-slaw," because I bought it.
(grunting)
(excited chattering)
Look how popular we are.
That smoker is the best thing that ever happened to us.
Thank goodness for your selfish choices.
I make them all for you.
(tires screeching, people exclaiming)
(excited chattering)
Yeah, I'm looking for a barbecue bozo name of Homer Simpson?
Whoa, that's Chew Network's celebrity chef Scotty Boom!
He's the host of Side Dish Impossible,
Master Prison Chef and Kill It, Chill It, Grill.
Yeah, how you doing, everybody?
I'm Scotty Boom,
and I'm challenging you to an Eat-down!
What's that... Some kind of eat-down?
It's my new show where I use
my big-time New York City chef skills
to obliterate amateur cooks.
Who would watch such a one-sided farce?
I'm in.
This Eat-down's gonna throw down
at the Springfield Barbecue Festival.
And when I'm done, you're gonna wish you never heard of food!
(people oohing) Buy my cookware!
(gasps): I'm competing against Scotty Boom!
He's got what all great chefs have...
Yelling.
ALL (chanting): Homer! Homer! Homer!
You were right, greasy hobo.
Nothing fixes bad times like good food.
Up here, I can watch
anyone in the world take a shower.
(grunting)
Okay, pork, I'm gonna throw you
in that magic smoker for 24 hours
and win that cook-off.
I only wish you could be alive to see it.
(British accent): Then I suppose
this is my last chance to say
I love you.
Aw...
(gasps)
Oh, no!
Our smoker's been stolen!
Why?!
And when?!
You didn't lock it up?
You fat idiot!
I'm out of here.
(groans)
(moans) You'll find the Hive, right?
Tell me you'll find my smoker!
Ah, don't you worry.
The Springfield PD is on the case.
Ah, yeah.
Uh, well, I wouldn't get your hopes up.
High-end barbeques like yours are easy pickings.
Smokeheads grab them at night, clean them up.
Next thing you know,
it's cooking another family's hot dogs.
Humanity... what a joke. (spits)
So, it's gone.
It's really gone.
All that's left is the smell of burning hickory
and three tiny little wheel prints.
Good night, sweet prints.
So you lost your grill.
Snap out of it, you big fat baby.
Son, this is so much more
than just losing an outdoor cooking device.
How to explain this to a child?
This is the death of hope.
What are you talking about?
Everything good that comes into our lives,
the universe takes away.
So from now on, I'm just gonna lie here
and never care again.
Come on, you know your life sucks.
Just get drunk like you always do.
I don't want to.
(gasps)
(moans)
Look at him.
He's lying there like a beached whale
waiting to explode.
Maybe we should try to track down that smoker.
I don't know.
The whole barbequing scene is pretty pro-meat.
And all that smoke pollutes the environment.
This isn't about your boyfriend, the planet.
I've never seen him this beaten down.
Okay, look for clues.
Are there any mud samples we can trace
to local heaths and moors?
Sorry, I've been watching a lot of Sherlock.
(barking)
Knock it off, boy.
I don't have any meat for you.
Get down! Wait!
Santa's Little Helper was in the yard last night
when the smoker was stolen, but he didn't make a peep.
Why?
(gasps)
"Natural Peanut Butter."
What if someone gave this to the dog
so he'd be licking instead of barking
while they took the smoker?!
(gasps) You got a clue, boy!
A clue! (laughs)
Who's a smart dog?
(panting)
(barking)
(panting)
(bell clangs) ANNOUNCER: You're watching
Eat-down with Scotty Boom.
Come on, Homie.
We can't let this Empire State jabroni beat us.
This week I took on the Gilbert family of Portland, Maine.
They've been making clam chowder for generations.
How is that better than something I spent a day on?
I win!
Manhattan chowder, baby!
NYC!
Greatest city, greatest chowder!
The Gilbert family has learned a valuable lesson...
Screw everything.
Dad, we're gonna find that smoker!
To try is to fail!
There's only one store in town
that sells all-natural peanut butter.
(bell dings)
Don't worry, I know how to talk to these people.
Thank goodness you have organic fennel.
The fennel at the farmer's market is only transitional.
(groans) Typical.
Small farmers ruining it for the really small farmers.
So, could you maybe tell me
who bought this brand of peanut butter?
Oh, excuse me, I'm sorry.
You want me to violate my customers' privacy?
Who are you working for?
The NSA? Big pharma?
Amazon Prime?
Tell us! Tell us! Tell us! Tell us!
(moans)
My hoops! (grunting)
My ridiculous flesh hoops!
There!
Someone's ringing up peanut butter.
(both gasp) Nelson!
What are you playing there, Nelson?
Clash of Castles?
So what if it is?
Your castle's pretty well-defended.
Level six catapults.
Level seven sorcerers.
Maxed-out trolls. (whistles)
Uh, yeah, well. (clears his throat)
Yeah, gets the job done.
I tell you, those are some nice upgrades.
Expensive upgrades.
Upgrades like that cost gems.
And gems cost cash.
Expensive cash.
Where'd you get the cash, Nelson?
I don't use gems!
I'm a grinder! A grinder!
(grunts)
(yelling)
(both moaning)
(moaning continues)
(gasps)
(whimpering)
(both scream)
What are they?
They're like televisions...
but they just keep going!
He's meeting with someone.
That's always a sign of guilt.
Hope you don't mind.
I cooked some dinner on it.
Mmm. (sniffs)
Ah, smell you later.
("Take the A Train" by Duke Ellington ringtone plays)
(phone beeps)
This is our chance.
BOTH: Hot! Hot!
Hot!
Hot! Hot! Hot! Hot! Hot!
Hot! Hot! Hot! Hot!
(gasps)
(tires squealing)
(crickets chirping)
(groans)
(both groan)
The universe does hate us.
It feels good to surrender.
(all groan)
Good girl, Maggie.
Give up young.
(panting, barking)
(all groaning)
Get up off that floor!
We are on a head-to-head cook-off
that'll be shown on TV and probably some planes.
We don't have the smoker.
Just let us forfeit with dignity.
We still have to try.
This isn't a family of quitters.
Sure we are.
We always have been and more so now.
I'm a quitter.
And I'll back down to anyone who says I'm not.
Come on, Buddhists aren't quitters.
Actually, Mom, Buddhism is really
just quitting in yoga pants.
This is a Live Strong bracelet.
Lance Armstrong never quit.
He never quit the Tour de France.
He never quit lying about his steroid use.
And he still hasn't totally come clean.
Now get in the car!
(lively chatter)
MOE: Eat-down! Eat-down! Eat-down! Yee-haw!
I can handle this barbeque competition.
All I need is a little help from an old friend.
I'm Alton Brown
and welcome to Eat-down!
Today Scotty Boom takes on the Simpsons in...
(bell clanging)
And I can tell you this... It will be edited
to be dramatic.
Marge, do you think your meat
has what it takes to win this Eat-down?
It sure does.
Homer, what about you?
No way in hell.
What about you kids?
Are you pumped up to beat Scotty Boom?
Happiness is an illusion.
What she said.
Looks like the Simpsons are playing
mind games with you, Scotty.
Are you feeling the pressure?
No pressure.
I'm throwing down the taste of New York.
My recipe's infused with Times Square, the Bronx Zoo
and the Sex and the City walking tour.
The Simpsons better bring their A game.
HOMER: F! F game!
I call this my Never-Give-Up Brisket.
The secret ingredient is hope.
Mm?
(spits)
How many spices did you put in this?
All of them.
(all groaning)
(audience oohing)
I've never seen such unusual grill marks.
This pattern looks like a honeycomb.
What?
That meat was cooked on the Hive!
This garlic-sucking tunnel trash stole our smoker!
Ah, this little flyover's crazy.
I cooked that meat myself right here over here.
The grill marks don't match.
Dead meat doesn't lie.
(audience gasping)
(gasping)
Scotty Boom, you are hereby banned
from the Chew Network.
You are no longer a celebrity chef.
You're just a chef.
Take him away, Chief.
Grand theft smoker.
Sounds like a crime to me.
Apparently, the winner of the Eat-down
is the Simpsons.
(cheering)
Isn't this a little too easy?
Why would a professional chef cheat?
And how does Nelson fit in?
And where the heck is our smoker?
("Take the A Train" by Duke Ellington ringtone plays)
(phone beeps)
That's the ringtone from the scrapyard!
LISA: Get him!
Bones! Bones!
I'm covered in death!
(gasps)
My hoops!
Dad, stop him!
I'm done trying.
Dad, please! No one's asking you to care.
Just trip a stranger!
(grumbles)
A kid?
Why'd you steal our smoker?
Why'd you frame Scotty Boom?
'Cause he's my dad.
I'm Tyler Boom. Huh?
My dad is so busy shooting his TV shows
and going to the openings and closings
of his restaurants...
I never see him.
You destroyed your Dad's career
so he'd spend more time with you?
Aw...
I met this kid Nelson
playing Clash of Castles online.
You know, I knew my dad was coming to your town,
so I hired Nelson to take your smoker.
And then my nanny cooked some meat on it
and switched it so it looked like my dad cheated.
This was the only way.
The only way I thought of.
Son, why didn't you tell me I was a terrible father?
Because I'm from New York.
We don't talk about our feelings, huh?
Yeah, I understand, son.
I'm from New York, too.
FDR Drive.
The West Side Highway.
Investment banking.
The gallery scene.
Knicks suck.
(crying): Oh, Papa!
They suck so hard!
One more thing, Tyler.
Where's the Hive?
(gasping)
Oh...
(sizzling)
You're always so much hotter than I think you're gonna be.
Thanks, guys, for not giving up, then giving up,
then not giving up again, then I forget.
BBQ is like family...
The cheap cuts of meat that nobody wants.
But if you treat them right,
they turn into the best thing in the world.
Yeah, barbecue's yummy.
Chinese is pretty good, too.
Meh, it depends on the place.
♪ From the dusty mesa
♪ Her looming shadow grows
♪ Hidden in the branches
♪ Of the poison creosote
♪ She twines her spines up slowly ♪
♪ Towards the boiling sun
♪ And when I touched her skin
♪ My fingers ran with blood.
PIT MASTER: I'm out of here.
Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH