♪ The Simpsons ♪
(chalk screeches)
(bell rings)
(work whistle blows)
-(sucking) -(register beeping)
(jazzy solo)
(tires screech)
(tires screeching)
(horn honks)
(tires screech)
D'oh!
-Aah! -(tires screech)
MAN: Live from beautiful Laughlin, Nevada.
It's the Miss American Girl Pageant.
Brought to you by Meryl Streep's Versatility.
Smell like Streep for cheap.
I'm your host Troy McClure, and now
here come the ladies.
♪ We learned the truth at 17 ♪
♪ That love was meant for beauty queens ♪
TROY: Like Miss South Dakota.
Miss North Carolina.
Miss Indiana.
-Miss Alaska. -Kids, I won't be home tonight,
so I'm leaving you some low-cal microwavable TV dinners.
Okay.
I'm auditioning for a play.
It's a musical version of "A Streetcar Named Desire."
Isn't that exciting?
TROY: If you ask me, they're all winners.
We'll be cutting our first 40 contestants
right after this.
TROY: Let's take a minute to meet
our distinguished panel of judges.
Skin care consultant Rowena.
Syndicated columnist William F. George.
Token black panelist Dredrick Tatum
and Mr. Boswell,
the man behind those infamous worst-dressed lists.
Mr. Boswell, can you give us
a sneak peek at this year's list?
Memo to Goldie Hawn:
cheerleading try-outs were 30 years ago.
-Let's grow up, shall we? -(laughing)
(laughs) He's such a bitch.
I haven't been in a play since high school,
and I thought it would be a good chance to meet some other adults.
Sounds interesting.
You know, I spend all day alone with Maggie,
and sometimes it's like I don't even exist.
-Sounds interesting. -(groans)
It's time to name our five finalists, starting with
Miss Montana.
A beaut from Butte.
Miss South Carolina.
Nothing could be finer.
Miss Delaware.
Gee, uh...
good for her.
♪ La-la-la-la-la-la ♪
Marge, keep it down in there.
Homer, my audition is in half--
Hey, look, it's last year's winner, Debra Del Smallwood!
Tonight, my reign as Miss American Girl
comes to an end,
and I'd like to apologize one last time
for my unfortunate remarks at the United Nations.
(playing Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairies)
Maggie, cut that racket!
And where exactly are you going?
I'm auditioning for a play.
Well, this is the first I've heard about it.
I told you several times.
It's a musical version of "A Streetcar Named--"
Excuse me, Marge.
I think that if you had told me, I would remember.
I mean, I'm not an idiot.
-Well, I thought I told you-- -Kids, back me up.
-He's right, Mom. -Sorry.
Match point, Homer.
I'm sorry, honey.
That's okay. We're none of us perfect.
(people warming up their voices, piano)
♪ Me-may-mow-mo-moo ♪
Well, howdy do, neighbor.
Hi, Ned, I didn't know you were an actor.
Oh, Indeedily doodily.
I've even been in "Streetcar" once before.
I played Blanche Dubois. Mm-hmm.
Just part of the fun of going to an all-male school.
Hello, I am Llewelyn Sinclair.
I have directed three plays in my career,
and I have had three heart attacks.
That's how much I care.
I'm planning for a fourth.
Maybe I should have taken a nice calligraphy class.
Oh, forget about it, that Mr. Takahashi's a lunatic.
-Quiet! -Sorry.
I am not an easy man to work for.
While directing "Hats Off to Chanukah,"
I reduced more than one cast member to tears.
Did I expect too much from fourth graders?
The review, "Play Enjoyed By All" speaks for itself.
Hmm.
Those auditioning for the role of Stanley,
take off your shirts.
Take off your shirts!
Deshabillez votre chemises.
Schnell, schnell, schnell!
Uh-uh.
Nope.
Try joining a gym.
Oh, ye Gods!
Hey, man, if you like that, you should see my butt.
You, you're my Stanley.
Hotdiggity.
How about that, Marge? Little old Stanley me.
(softly) Stella.
(louder) Stella! Heh heh heh.
♪ Hey, look me over-- ♪
-Next. -♪ Won't you come home Bill Bai-- ♪
Next.
♪ There's got to be a-- ♪
-Next. -♪ Lah-- ♪
Thank you for nothing.
You're all terrible.
What you ladies don't understand is that Blanche
is a delicate flower
being trampled by an uncouth lout.
(sighs) Forget it.
Just strike the sets.
Clear the stage.
This production is--
Homie, I didn't get the part.
You were right, outside interests are stupid.
Wait a minute.
(groans) I'll come home right away.
All right, I'll pick up a bucket of fried chicken
extra skin.
Rolls, chocolate cream parfait--
(gasps)
Stop bothering my Blanche!
(gasps)
I play an aging southern beauty
who's driven to insanity
by her brutish brother-in-law Stanley.
Wow! My mother, the actress.
I feel like Lucie Arnaz-Luckinbill.
Are there any jive-talking robots in this play?
Hmm, I don't think so.
Bart, don't ask stupid questions.
Is there any frontal nudity?
No, Homer.
My name is Helen Lovejoy,
and I'll be playing Stella.
I am Apu Nahasapeemapetilon.
I play Steve.
My name is Otto.
I'm playing Pablo.
Lionel Hutz, attorney at law.
I'm filing a class-action suit against the director
on behalf of everyone who was cut from the play.
I also play Mitch.
I'm Marge Simpson.
I'll be playing Blanche.
I made some peanut butter brownies for everyone.
Well, would anyone else like a bite of banality?
I would.
-Stanley... -Yeah.
you're-you're pulsing with animal lust.
You take Blanche and you fling her roughly to the bed.
Roger-dodger.
(grunts)
(growls)
Aw! Isn't that cute?
Me without a camera.
Here, my sister runs a day-care center.
Hmm. I guess a few weeks wouldn't hurt her.
MARGE: Maggie is allergic to strained pears
and she likes a bottle of warm milk before nap time.
A bottle? (laughs)
Mrs. Simpson, do you know what a baby's saying
when she reaches for a bottle?
Ba-ba?
She's saying, "I am a leech."
Our aim here is to develop the bottle within.
That sounds awfully harsh.
Mrs. Simpson, I don't like to toot my own horn,
but we're the only day-care center in town
that's not currently under investigation by the state.
Oh.
Well, be a good girl, Maggie.
I'm sorry, Maggie.
We don't allow these here.
♪ You're a dame, and I'm a fella ♪
♪ Stanley, stop, or I'll tell Stella ♪
Passion, Mrs. Simpson!
Anger. This man disgusts you.
♪ All I want is one embrace ♪
♪ I'll twist this bottle in your face ♪
(grunting softly)
(laughs) Here, Marge, let me.
Hate to be an Armchair Blanche,
but I always gave it one of these.
(chuckles) There, there's the old face shredder.
-Oh. -Mrs. Simpson, if you set out
to push the bile to the tip of my throat,
mission accomplished.
I'm, uh...
I'm gonna crawl into bed with a bottle of amaretto.
Good day.
HOMER: Easy, easy. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.
-D'oh! -Seven-ten split.
Homer, can you run some lines with me?
Make Bart do it.
It will just take a sec.
Gutter ball.
D'oh! You see, Marge?
While you're off in your own little world,
you forgot that other people have problems too.
(sighs)
(theme music from "The Great Escape" playing)
(crashing)
(thuds)
Don't like to nap, eh?
We have a place for babies like you.
The box!
(theme music from "The Great Escape" playing)
All right, let amateur night in Dixie commence.
I'm sorry, Llewelyn.
I just-- I just don't see why Blanche should
shove a broken bottle in Stanley's face.
Couldn't she just take his abuse
with gentle good humor?
Marge, your ride's here.
Homer, it will just be a few minutes more.
♪ You're a dame, and I'm a fella ♪
♪ Stanley, stop, or I'll tell Stella ♪
LLEWELYN: Marge, Marge...
I'm asking for white-hot rage,
and you're giving me a hissy fit.
Marge, can I get some change for the candy machine?
Oh, here!
(coins clinking)
Hey, there's some quarters in here.
I just don't see what's so bad about Stanley.
(angry grunting)
-Stanley is thoughtless, violent and loud. -(Homer grunting loudly)
Marge, every second you spend with this man,
he is crushing your fragile spirit.
You can't let that happen.
(Homer yelling)
Woo-hoo! Come to papa.
Marge, I'll be out in the car.
♪ All I want is one embrace ♪
(horn honking)
HOMER: Marge, move it or lose it.
(angrily) ♪ I'll twist this bottle in your face ♪
(grunts)
Alleluia! I have done it again.
Ned, you're supposed to overpower her.
I'm trying, I'm trying.
(both grunting)
Salt me.
(Bad Southern accent) Here you are, Homer.
What the-- Why are you talking like that?
The play's tomorrow night.
I've got to stay in character.
(Southern drawl) Hey Mom, would it help
-if I talked like this too? -It might.
(British accent) And I'll talk like this. Bob's your uncle, mate.
That really doesn't help, Bart.
Big Daddy, would y'all mind passing a little ol' biscuit?
(British accent) Can I slog off school tomorrow? Got a pain in me gulliver.
I'm living in a cuckoo clock.
Ooh! See ya' later kids.
I've got to go rehearse with Ned.
But Marge, What about dessert?
For God sakes, you can pull the lid off your own can of pudding!
Fine! I will!
(screaming)
Oh, no, my pudding is trapped forever.
So I can open my own can of pudding, can I?
Shows what you know, Marge.
Marge!
Hey, Marge!
Keep yelling, you big ape.
(chuckles) Aren't you being a little hard on old Homie?
Oh, forget about him.
Let's rehearse the bottle scene.
Oh-ho, let's not and say we did, hmm?
(reading quietly)
So, what time does this play start?
Why, are you going?
Well, I got to go, don't I?
I'm sure you won't enjoy it.
There's nothing about bowling in the play.
Oh, wait, there is.
Probably not much of it.
Why can't you be a little more supportive?
'Cause I don't care, okay?
I can't fake an interest in this,
and I'm an expert at faking an interest
in your kooky projects.
What kooky projects?
You know, the painting class,
the first aid course, the whole Lamaze thing.
Why didn't you tell me you felt this way?
You know I would never do anything to hurt your feelings.
Good night. (snoring)
(groaning)
Playing nicely, little humans? Good, good.
Hello, Maggie.
Poor little dullard.
(theme from "The Great Escape" plays)
KRUSTY DOLL: Hey, kids! I'm flame-retardant. (laughing)
(gasps)
DOLL: If I break, buy a new one. (laughing)
(glass shatters)
(babies clamoring)
HOMER: Maggie, time to go to the-- (screams)
(echoing sucking sounds)
(echoing sucking sounds continues)
HOMER (shivering): Oh.... babies.
Perhaps we are all a little mad,
we who don the cap and bells,
and tread beneath the proscenium arch.
But tonight, you will all be transformed
from dead-eyed suburbanites
into white-hot grease fires of pure entertainment!
Except you. You're not working out.
I'll be playing your part.
Drag!
♪ Long before the Superdome ♪
♪ Where the Saints of football play ♪
♪ Lived a city that the damned call home ♪
♪ Hear their hellish roundelay ♪
♪ New Orleans ♪
♪ Home of pirates, drunks, and whores ♪
♪ New Orleans ♪
♪ Tacky, overpriced souvenir stores ♪
♪ If you want to go to hell, you should take a trip ♪
♪ To the Sodom and Gomorrah on the Mississip ♪
♪ New Orleans ♪
♪ Stinking, rotten, vomity, vile, New Orleans ♪
♪ Putrid, brackish, maggoty, foul ♪
♪ New Orleans ♪
♪ Crummy, lousy, wretched and rank ♪
♪ New Orleans ♪
ACTRESS: What's the matter, honey? Are ya' lost?
MARGE: I'm looking for my sister, Stella.
LISA: It's Mom!
Huh?
My name is Blanche Dubois.
♪ I thought my life would be a Mardi Gras ♪
♪ A never-ending party ♪
Ha!
♪ I'm a faded Southern dame without a dime ♪
I'm collecting for The Evening Star.
Come here.
I want to kiss you just once,
softly and sweetly on your mouth.
♪ I am just a simple paper boy ♪
♪ No romance do I seek ♪
♪ I just wanted 40 cents ♪
♪ For my deliveries last week ♪
♪ Will this bewitching floozy ♪
♪ Seduce this humble newsy ♪
♪ Oh, what's a paper boy to ♪
♪ Do? ♪
Whoo-hoo!
Stella!
♪ Can't you hear me yell-a ♪
♪ You're puttin' me through hell-a ♪
♪ Stella ♪
Stella!
(Marge moaning, shouting)
Cool, she can fly.
I think it's supposed to symbolize her descent into madness.
(moaning, shouting continue)
Whoever you are,
I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.
♪ You can always depend on the kindness of strangers ♪
♪ To buck up your spirits and shield you from dangers ♪
♪ Now, here's a tip from Blanche you won't regret ♪
♪ A stranger's just a friend you haven't met ♪
♪ You haven't met ♪
♪ Streetcar! ♪
(applause)
-LISA: Yay! -(Bart whistles)
♪♪
Ahh!
BOTH: Yay!
Mwah! Mwah!
You people out there, you are the stars!
Cool!
Hey, look at me! I'm Blanche Dubois.
Mom!
Oof! Way to go, Mom.
Everybody was cheering for you.
Almost everybody.
Kids, wait in the car.
I want to talk to your mother about this play thing.
(British accent) Looking for a spot of fun with the Missus, eh Gov'nor?
Shut up, boy. Marge, you were terrific.
Oh, come on, Homer.
By the end, you were so bored,
you could barely keep your selfish head up.
I wasn't bored. I was sad.
It really got to me how that lady, uh, um...
You know which one I mean. You played her.
Blanche.
Yeah, how Blanche was sad,
and how that guy, Stanley, should have been nice to her.
Yeah, go on.
I mean, it made me feel bad.
The poor thing ends up being hauled to the nut house,
when all she needed was for that big slob
to show her some respect.
At least, that's what I thought.
I have a history of missing the point of stuff like this.
No, Homer, you got it just right.
Hey, you know, I'm a lot like that guy.
-Really? -Yeah,
like when I pick my teeth with the mail and stuff.
Well, maybe just a little.
♪♪
Shh!
CAPTIONS ENHANCED BY ROUNDABOUT ENTERTAINMENT INC.