The Simpsons/Season 1

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The Simpsons (1989–present) is an American animated sitcom broadcast by the Fox Broadcasting Company created by Matt Groening. The series is a satirical depiction of American life, epitomized by the Simpson family.

[First lines. One winter's night, a text reading "The Simpsons Christmas Special" appears. Then, we fade to a road that's been cleared of snow]

Marge: [off-camera] Ooh, careful, Homer.

[We then see a car driving on the road]

Homer: There's no time to be careful, we're late.

[And inside this car are Marge and Homer Simpson, but Homer is the one doing the driving. Soon, they arrive at Springfield Elementary School and drive into a small pile of snow in the road. They get out as Marge holds their baby, Maggie. Next, they walk past a sign that reads "Springfield Elementary School, Annual Christmas Pageant "1/2" Springfield Shopper". Inside the school, a choir of children are singing as Marge and Homer come in to take their seats]

Marge: Sorry, 'scuse me. Pardon me.

Homer: [to a man named Norman] Hey, Norman, how's it going? [to another person] So you got dragged out here, too, huh? [to another man] How you doing, Fred? 'Scuse me. [steps on a woman's foot by accident] Pardon my galoshes. [he and Marge sit down] Heh, heh.

[The choir of children conclude their song and Seymour Skinner, the principal of Springfield Elementary, walks onto the stage to make the next announcement]

Principal Skinner: [chuckles] Wasn't that wonderful? And now, "Santas of... [reads the piece of paper] Many...Lands", as presented by the entire second grade class.

[The camera cuts to Marge and Homer]

Marge: Ooh, Lisa's class!

[We then see a girl dressed as Santa on the stage]

Girl dressed as Santa: Fröhliche Weihnachten. That's German for "Merry Christmas". In Germany, Santa's servant, Ruprecht, gives presents to good children, and whipping rods to the parents of bad ones.

[Everyone claps while Maggie sucks on her pacifier. Next, we see a boy clad with Red and orange clothing]

Hotei Oshi: Merry Kurisumasu. I am Hotei Oshi, a Japanese priest who acts like Santa Claus. I have eyes in the back of my head, so children better behave when I'm nearby. [turns round, but one of the eyes on the back of his head springs out, making everyone gasp. Then, they clap]

[Next, we see Dewey Largo, the music teacher]

Dewey Largo: Now, presenting Lisa Simpson as Tawanga, the Santa Claus... [the curtain opens to reveal Tawanga] ...of the South Seas.

Homer: Ooh, it's Lisa! That's ours!

[The light shines on Tawanga. Tawanga performs a skilled dance with lit torches, performing tricks such as throwing it around herself, surprising everyone. She is also wearing see-through clothing before unmasking herself as Lisa Simpson, the middle child of Marge and Homer. Everyone claps]

[Principal Skinner makes the next announcement via his piece of paper and microphone]

Principal Skinner: And the 4th grade will now favor us with a melody... [checks his paper] Uh, medley of Holiday Favorites.

[The curtains open to reveal the 4th grade students who are singing Jingle Bells. Among this group of students is Bart Simpson, the eldest child and only son of Homer and Marge]

4th Grade Students: [singing] Dashing through the snow, in a one-horse open sleigh, O'er the fields we go; Laughing all the way, ha ha ha; Bells on bobtail ring, making spirits bright...

[The camera cuts to Marge, Maggie and Homer]

Marge: Isn't Bart sweet, Homer? He sings like an angel.

[Homer nods proudly as Bart's class sings the song correctly]

Bart: [singing while using alternate lyrics] Oh Jingle Bells, Batman smells. Robin laid an egg. The Batmobile broke it's wheel. The Joker got Aw... [Principal Skinner takes him away from the choir] AAAAAAHHHH!

Homer: [annoyed grunt] D'oh!

4th Grade Students: [singing] Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all...

[Soon, Homer has become bored]

Principal Skinner: [clears throat] The fifth grade will now favor us with a scene from Charles...Dickens' "A Christmas Carol".

Homer: [groans] How many grades does this school have?

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Homer: [dressed as Santa with Bart on his lap] And what's your name, Bart...ner....uh, little partner?

Bart: I'm Bart Simpson. Who the hell are you?

Homer: [angry] I'm Jolly Old Saint Nick!

Bart: Oh, yeah? We'll just see about that. [tries to pull off Homer's fake Santa beard]

[The photographer takes a picture of Homer looking at Bart furiously]

Homer: D'oh!

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Bart and Barney: [singing] We're in the money. We're in the money. We got a lot of what it takes to get along!

[The family is playing Scrabble]

Bart: My turn. Kwyjibo. K-W-Y-J-I-B-O, 22 points, plus triple word score, plus 50 points for using all my letters. Game's over, I'm outta here. [about to leave]

Homer: [grabs Bart's arm] Wait a minute, you little cheater! You're not going anywhere until you tell me what a kwyjibo is.

Bart: Kwyjibo. Uh... [looks at Homer, who lets go of his arm] a big, dumb, balding North American ape. With no chin.

[Homer is offended and angrily looks down at Bart more]

Marge: And a short temper.

Homer: [turns red in anger] I'll show you a big, dumb, balding ape! [angrily chases Bart]

Bart: Uh-oh! Kwyjibo on the loose!

---

Principal Skinner: [sees the writing on the school wall about him saying he's a wiener, but in an incorrect sentence] Whoever did this is in very deep trouble.

Martin: And a sloppy speller, too. The preferred spelling of "wiener" is W-I-E-N-E-R. Although, "I-E" is an acceptable ethnic variant.

Principal Skinner: Good point. Boys, let's see your hands. [checks Lewis's hands] Mm-hmm. [checks Milhouse's hands] Good. [checks Richard's hands] Clean. [goes to Bart] Simpson?

[Bart shows Skinner his red painted hands]

Martin: You might say you caught him red-handed.

Principal Skinner: Simpson, you and I are going to have a little talk.

Bart: Same time, same place?

Principal Skinner: Yes. In my office after school.

Milhouse, Lewis, and Richard: Ooh!

[Bart gulps]

---

Bart: [singing] Toreador, oh, don't spit on the floor. Please use the cuspidor. That's what it's for.

[Bart and Homer laughing]

Marge: Bart, stop fooling around. Homer, stop encouraging him.

Homer: Don't stifle the boy, Marge. We're supposed to encourage him.

Marge: Shush!

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Homer: Who's the lard butt?

Lisa: He's the bullfighter.

Bart: No way a bull's gonna miss a target that big, man.

[Lisa, Bart, and their father laughing]

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Bart: Dad, I got to tell you something, hope you won't be too mad.

Homer: What is it, son?

Bart: I'm not a genius, dad.

Homer: What?

Bart: I cheated on the intelligent test. I'm sorry. But I just wanna say that the past few weeks have been great! Me and you've done stuff together, you've helped me out with things, we're closer than we've ever been. I love you, dad, and I think if something can bring us that close, it can't possibly be bad.

Homer: [pauses; turns red in anger] Why you little...! [chases his son angrily]

Bart: Uh-oh! [runs screaming]

Marge: What's going on out there?

Lisa: I think Bart's stupid again, Mom.

Marge: Oh, well.

[Bart runs into his room and closes the door]

Homer: [pounding on the door] You can't stay in there forever!

Bart: [locks the door] I can try!

Homer: [pounding] March your butt right out here! Now!

Bart: [hops on his bed] No way, man!

Homer: [continues pounding] Bart! I-! [stops himself with a crafty smile] Son, if you don't come out, I can't hug you and kiss you and make you feel all better.

Bart: [sits on his bed, reading comic books and drinking soda] You think I'm dumb enough to fall for that?! I'm insulted!

[Homer turns red, howls in rage and continues pounding at the door]

[The cartoon character Smilin' Joe Fission informs Bart's class about nuclear energy.]

Smilin' Joe Fission: Uh-oh. Whoops. Looks there's a little leftover nuclear waste. No problem.

[Smilin' Joe tucks the waste under a rug.]

Smilin' Joe Fission: I'll just put it where nobody'll find it for a million years.

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Moe: Moe's Tavern.

Bart: Is Mr. Freely there?

Moe: Who?

Bart: Freely, first initials I. P.

Moe: Hold on, I'll check. Uh, is I. P. Freely here? Hey, everybody! I pee freely! [the customers laugh] Wait a minute...Listen to me you lousy bum. When I get a hold of you, you're dead. I swear I'm gonna slice your heart in half!

[Bart and Lisa laugh, before Moe hangs up]

Homer: You'll get that punk someday, Moe.

Moe: I don't know. He's tough to catch. He keeps changing his name.

Homer: Afternoon, Mr. Burns!

Mr. Burns: Ah, hello there, uh..uh....

Homer: [whispers to Smithers] Simpson, Homer.

Smithers: [gives cue card] Here you go, sir.

Mr. Burns: Ah! Oh, yes. Oh, and this must be your lovely wife... [reads] Marge. Oh, and look a little...Lisa. Why, she's growing like a weed. And this must be... [lifts his thumb covering Bart's name] Brat!

Bart: Bart.

Homer: Don't correct the man, Brat!

---

[Dr. Monroe diagnoses the Simpsons' problem when he sees the rest of the family drawing Homer as they see him. Not paying attention to their disgust, he gets lost and draws an airplane with bombs on them]

Dr. Monroe: [to Homer] 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.

Marge: Now, Doctor, that's not true.

Lisa: Ogre is such a strong word.

Bart: Right on, Doc! Another successful diagnosis.

Homer: That does it!

[Homer grabs a lamp and tries to hit Bart with it]

Dr. Monroe: Whoa! [takes the lamp from Homer with a chuckle] Okay, you want to kill each other. That's good. That's healthy.

Homer: Do I smell cupcakes? [Homer opens the oven] Ooh, do I ever!

Marge: Uh-uh, Homer. Lisa's making these for her teacher.

Homer: Ah. Say no more. [closes it and seconds later Bart opens it]

Bart: Yum! Don't mind if I do!

Marge: Bart! [drags him back into the kitchen]

Bart : Oh, man!

---

Bart: [daydream begins] Okay, Nelson. Put up your dukes! [a big shadow looms over him] Whaaaa! [runs into a school hall and closes the door, getting punched by a big hand, Nelson stomps the door down] Yikes! [throws a knives at Nelson, as he drags them off]

Nelson: Ha, ha, ha! [Bart grabs a machine gun and fires at Nelson] Ha, ha, ha!

Bart: Oh! [throws a machine gun at Nelson, who catches and eats it whole. He screams as he runs up some stairs, which he's followed by Nelson, the stairs stops at a dead end and Nelson is about to pick him up] Uh-oh.

Nelson: Mmmmmm, lunchtime! Ha, ha, ha! Lunchtime!

[As Nelson swallows him whole, Bart screams while he travels down Nelson's esophagus. The nightmare ends as Milhouse wakes Bart up, telling him that it's lunchtime]

Milhouse: Lunchtime, Bart. It's lunchtime.

Bart: I ain't gonna get out of the fourth grade alive.

---

Marge: Well, Bart, I hope you're going straight to the principal about this!

Bart: I guess I should do that.

Homer: What?! And violate the code of the schoolyard?! I'd rather Bart die!

Marge: What on Earth are you talking about, Homer?!

Homer: The code of the schoolyard, Marge! The rules that teach a boy how to be a man! Let's see: Don't tattle, always make fun of those different from you, never say anything unless you're sure everyone feels exactly the same way you do, and what else...?

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Bart: Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, contrary to what you've just seen, war is neither glamorous nor fun. There are no winners, only losers. There are no good wars, with the following exceptions: The American Revolution, World War II, and the Star Wars trilogy. If you'd like to learn more about war, there's lots of books in your local library, many of them with cool, gory pictures. Well, good night, everybody! Peace, man.

Homer: Lisa! What did I tell ya about playing that saxamah-thing in the house?!

Lisa: I was just playing the blues...Dad. [sobs]

Homer: [now feeling sorry] Lisa, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell. Go ahead, play your blues if it'll make you happy.

Lisa: No, that's okay, Dad. [sniff] I'll just work on my fingering, unless my fingers clacking on the keys is too loud for you.

Homer: Let's hear it. [Lisa starts clacking for a while] You just clack as loud as you want, Lis.

---

Homer: Where the hell are my keys? Who stole my keys? Come on, I'm late for work! [lifts Maggie and looks underneath]

Marge: Oh, Homer, you'd lose your head if it weren't securely fastened to your neck.

Bart: Did you check the den?

Homer: The den! Great idea! [heads into the den with Bart following him and he begins to pull couch apart]

Bart: Warm. No, cold. Colder. Ice cold.

Homer: You know where my keys are?

Bart: No, I'm talking about your breakfast. [laughs]

Homer: GRRRRH!!!

Bart: Did you check the rumpus room?

Homer: Rumpus room? Great idea! [runs to front door] Huh?

Lisa: Oh, Dad? [points. The keys are still in the door lock]

Homer: D'oh!

Lisa: Remember, Dad. The handle of the Big Dipper points to the North Star.

Homer: That's nice, Lisa, but we're not in astronomy class. We're in the woods.

[Marge and Lisa groan in disgust, knowing Homer has ignored their attempts to try and help him navigate the woods]

---

[Bob the RV salesman checks Homer's credit on a computer, and a siren wails when the results come back]

Homer: Is that a good siren? Am I approved?

Bob: You ever known a siren to be good? [chuckles] No, Mr. Simpson, it's not. It's a bad siren. That's the computer in case I went blind, telling me, "Sell the vehicle to this fella, and you're outta business." That's what the siren says. It seems that the Ultimate Behemoth is a wee bit out of your price range. And wee bit is me being polite, you couldn't afford this thing even if you lived to be a million.

Homer: Don't you have something that isn't out of my price range? I don't want to go away empty handed, Bob.

Bob: Take it easy, there. Don't ruin this feeling I'm getting from you. Perhaps I can show you something a little more you.

[Bart skateboards down to the movie theater]

Jimbo: Hey, hot dog.

Bart: What? [crashes into a lamp post]

Jimbo: Nice dismount, man. [he and his friends laugh]

Bart: Didn't hurt.

Kearney: Oh, yeah? Well, do it again!

Bart: Nah. Might land on my face and end up looking like you.

---

[Chief Wiggum leads a press conference about the town statue]

Chief Wiggum: [clears throat] Well, we have no witnesses, no suspects, and no leads. If anyone has any information, please dial "0" and ask for the police. That number again, "0."

Jacques: It is nice to meet you... [looks at name on Marge's bowling ball] Homer.

Marge: Oh, no, no..."Homer" is my...ball's name. I'm Marge.

Jacques: [chuckles to himself] Your fingers are so slender, so feminine. They're far too tapered for the ball you are using. You need something lighter. More delicate. Here. Use my ball.

Marge: Hmm...No, no, thank you, Mister - um - [looks at Jacques' ball] Brunswick.

Jacques: Call me Jacques.

Marge: Jacques.

Jacques: Marge.

Marge: Hmm...I'll just use my ball.

Jacques: As you wish. Many people have senseless attachments to heavy, clumsy things, such as this "Homer" of yours.

---

Jacques: Marge, Darling, I...I want to see you tomorrow. Not at Barney's Bowl-a-Rama. Away from the thunderous folly of clattering pins. Meet me tomorrow for brunch!

Marge: What's brunch?

Jacques: You'll love it. It's not quite breakfast, it's not quite lunch. But it comes with a slice of cantaloupe at the end! You don't get completely what you would at breakfast, but you get a good meal!

Homer: [weighs himself again after six months] OH, NO! 239 lbs?!? I'm a whale! Why was I cursed with this weakness for snack treats? [more serious] Well from now on, exercise every morning, Homer! [stretches in front of the bathroom mirror]

Marge: [enters] Ohhh...Don't strain yourself, dear.

Homer: Good idea, Marge.

---

[Homer pays a visit to the Kwik-E-Mart, after he has unknowingly become famous from his photo with Princess Kashmir being posted all over town]

Homer: One glazed, and one Scratch-'N-Win, please.

Apu: You look familiar, sir. Are you on the television or something?

Homer: Sorry, buddy. You got me confused with Fred Flintstone. [chuckles; Apu hands him his lottery ticket and he starts to scratch it off] Oh. Liberty Bell. [scratches some more and gasps] Another Liberty Bell! One more and I'm a millionaire. Come on, Liberty Bell, please, please, please, please, please, please! [scratches to reveal a plum] D'oh! That purple fruit thing. Where were you yesterday?

---

[Homer gets out of his car, whistling, arrives home, Marge furiously opens a door, Homer gasps]

Marge: [holding up a picture of Homer and Princess Kashmir] What is the meaning of this?!

Homer: Meaningless, Marge. Don't even attempt to find meaning in it. There's nothing between me and Princess Kashmir.

Marge: Princess who?!

Bart: [walks by] Hey, my photo!

Homer and Marge: Your photo?!

Bart: Uh-oh.

Homer: Why you little- [about to choke Bart]

Marge: Why you big- [chokes Homer] Bart, go to your room!

Bart: I'm outta here. [leaves]

Homer: Look, Marge, honey, baby, doll, I-

Marge: Homer, I don't even want to look at you right now.

Homer: What are you saying, honey? But where will I sleep?

Marge: My suggestion...is for you to sleep in the filth you created!

Homer: Would a motel be okay? [Marge slams the door in Homer's face. Sadly, he walks away from his house and heads for his car. Marge opens the house door] Oh, I knew you'd come to your-

Marge: [throws a suitcase at Homer] Here. If you have any soul left, you'll need these. I know I will. [closes the door as she goes back inside]

[Homer sitting in tears in the front of his house]

---

Homer: [speaks on a phone] Marge! Marge! We're gonna try one more place, the Sapphire Lounge. [angrily turns to Bart] Bart! I said look at the floor!

[Principal Skinner offers a solution to Bart's problems at school]

Principal Skinner: Mr. and Mrs. Simpson, we have transcended incorrigible. I don't think suspension or expulsion will do the trick. I think it behooves us all to consider deportation.

Marge: Deportation?! You mean kick Bart out of the country?!

Homer: Hear him out, Marge.

---

[Adil and Lisa debate at the dinner table]

Adil: How can you defend a country where five percent of the people control 95 percent of the wealth?

Lisa: I'm defending a country where people can think, and act, and worship any way they want!

Adil: Can not.

Lisa: Can too.

Adil: Can not!

Lisa: Can too!

Homer: Please, please, kids, stop fighting. Maybe Lisa's right about America being the land of opportunity, and maybe Adil's got a point about the machinery of capitalism being oiled with the blood of the workers.

Apu: What's the matter, sir? Never have I seen you look so unhappy while purchasing such a large quantity of ice cream.

Homer: The reason I look unhappy is that tonight I have to see a slideshow starring my wife's sisters. Or as I call them "The Gruesome Twosome."

(Homer and Apu chuckles. Homer turns around to head back to the car and accidentally steps on Sideshow Bob's foot)

Sideshow Bob:[disguised as Krusty] Ow! My foot, you lousy stupid clumsy...!!!

Homer: Sorry, pal. [gasps in horror when he notices Krusty holding a handgun and dives head first into a potato chip display]

Sideshow Bob: [disguised as Krusty and drawing his gun at Apu] Hand over all your money in a paper bag!

Apu: Yes, yes, I know the procedure for armed robbery. I do work in a convenience store, you know. [hands over a paper bag after which Krusty flees] You can emerge now from my chips. [Homer peaks his head] The opportunity to prove yourself a hero is long gone.

[Homer gasps with relief]

---

[Outside the studio, Sideshow Bob is arrested by the police. Everyone else watches on, while Bart, Lisa and the other children have their arms folded in anger over what he done to Krusty]

Sideshow Bob: [in handcuffs] Yes, I admit it. I hated him! His hackneyed shenanigans robbed me of my dignity for years. I played the buffoon, while he squandered a fortune on his vulgar appetites. That's why I framed Krusty! And I would've gotten away with it, too, if it weren't for these meddling kids!

Bart: Take him away, boys.

Sideshow Bob: [being carted off to jail] Treat kids like equals, they're people too. They're smarter than what you think! They were smart enough to catch me!

Lisa: Aw, come on, Bart, not again!

Bart: [dialing the phone] Aw, where's your sense of humor?

Moe: Moe's Tavern.

Bart: Hello, is Al there?

Moe: Al?

Bart: Yeah, Al. Last name: Coholic.

Moe: Lemme check. [calls] Phone call for Al! Al Coholic! Is there an Al Coholic here?! [bar denizens laugh] Wait a minute... [to the phone] Listen, you little yellow-bellied rat jackass, if I ever find out who you are, I'll kill you! [hangs up]

[Bart and Lisa laugh]

Homer: [depressed] I hope you do find that punk someday, Moe. Fill 'er up.

---

Bart: A little pre-dinner entertainment.

Moe: [answering the phone] Moe's Tavern.

Bart: Is Oliver there?

Moe: Who?

Bart: Oliver Klozoff.

Moe: Hold on, I'll check. [calls] Oliver Clothesoff, call for Oliver Clothesoff!

Bart and Lisa: [laugh]

---

[Marge picks up the phone]

Moe: [on the phone] Listen, you lousy bum, if I ever get a hold of you, I swear I'll cut your belly open!

Marge: [hangs up] Goodness, must be a crossed wire.

---

[Marge dials the babysitting service. At the Rubber Baby Buggy Bumper Babysitting Service, there are three older women, including Ms. Botz]

Receptionist: Rubber Baby Buggy Bumper Babysitting Service.

Marge: This is Marge Simpson. I'd like a babysitter for the evening.

Receptionist: Wait a minute. The Simpsons? [looks over at a bulletin board with Bart, Lisa and Maggie's faces on it, warning their employees not to babysit them due to their countless misbehavior] Lady, you've got to be kidding! [slams the phone, continues writing, phone rings seconds later] Rubber Baby Buggie Bumper Babysitting Service.

Homer: Hello, this is Mr. S...Sampson.

Receptionist: [sensing something fishy] Did your wife just call a second ago?

Homer: No, I said Sampson, not Simpson.

Receptionist: [visibly relieved] Thank God! Those Simpsons, what a bunch of savages! Especially that big ape father!

Homer: [angrily] D'oh! [trying to keep calm] Actually, the Simpsons are neighbors of ours and we found them to be a quite misunderstood and underrated family.

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