The Simpsons.
And with time running out,
the Seminoles are on the warpath!
Go, Seminoles!
Cover the point spread! Cover the point spread!
Here's the play that will determine the game.
Stay tuned for "Sitcom Sunday."
Where's the remote?
This is not a drill, people!
Hmm. The TV changes channels
every time the dog barks.
We return to Mel Gibson's "The Salad of the Christ"
on Christian Carrot Theater.
I think he swallowed the remote.
Bark for your master.
Lousy American-made dog!
Oh! Why must I be so voluptuous?
Oh. Time to make you pretty!
Oh, yes. A little more color.
How do I look?
Oh, after my makeover, I'm gonna get you, boy!
Yo, yo, yo. Here now the nizzews.
The top artists of hip-hop are coming to Springfield.
This all-star concert dubbed "Murder 4 Life" features,
Da Glock Pointaz, Romeo Smoov,
Queen Booty Shaykah, MC Champagne Millionaire,
and Assault "Weapons Magazine's" Man of the Year, Alcatraaaz.
Alcatraaaz is wide-spread!
I'm talkin' da junk!
Just what we need. Another lame suburban kid who loves rap.
So? You like the blues.
Yes. But the blues are unpopular.
Man, are you illin'.
Rappers stopped saying "illin" ' 12 years ago.
I'm keepin' it real!
They stopped saying "keepin' it real" three years ago.
Mom, Lisa's dissin' me!
Dissin'?
Do rappers still say that? Oh!
Dad, can I go to a rap concert? Tickets are $50.
Go to hell. Okay.
What if I pay for it myself?
Fine. Go nuts.
I love you, Dad.
I love you, too, Jerry.
Baggy britches? Loose-laced gym shoes?
Are you going to a rap performance?
Hell, yeah. I'm representin' at Murder 4 Life.
Know what I'm sayin'?
All too well.
Rap music belongs in the rubbish bin.
It encourages punching, boastfulness, and rudeness to hos!
Step off, Mom. Rap is the poetry of the streets.
Well, you are not going to any concert that promulgates stink talk.
But Dad already said I could go.
Oh, did he?
Homer, you tell your son
a rap show is not a safe place for a 10-year-old.
Son, your mother makes a very loud point.
But you said I could go if I paid for the ticket.
Boy, let me explain the situation in terms you'll understand.
You did it on the straight.
Got your dad's permission.
But your mom dropped a bomb So I flipped my position.
Don't argue with Marge I know what's best.
The only wrap in this crib Keeps sandwiches fresh.
Fresh, fr-fresh for Mommy's baby boy.
Baby boy. Baby boy. Ba-ba-ba-baby boy.
Dad, you completely sold me out.
Well, I paid for this ticket. That makes me an adult.
I'm going.
I love you, Krusty-wusty.
Every miner, forty-niner.
And stone cold conniver.
Stakes a claim on my tongue To pan my saliva.
Make the hos drop they clothes Like they Lady Godiva.
Whoa.
Yo, cuz! Put down my mike 'Less you know how to use it.
This is old school not preschool So don't Dr. Seuss it.
Don't critique my technique I'm no geek
I make the principal nervous My friends can confirm this
I'll bust a spit wad in your epidermis.
Oh, no, he didn't!
You can trace my remorse To its supersized source.
A hungry, hungry hypocrite Named Homer, of course.
My old man's pathetic Damn is his head thick.
The gas from his ass is carcinogenic.
Every day I pray his DNA ain't genetic.
Damn, this ride is pimped out.
Yo, downstairs I got a wax museum of famous movie monsters.
Check it out, if you want to get your fright on.
Jeepers! It's 50 Cent.
Yo, B. I heard you throw down on stage.
Wanna join my world tour?
Sorry, Fitty. I have school tomorrow.
You're right. The more you know, the further you go.
And that's one to grow on.
Does that count as community service?
No.
All right. Take me to the park.
We'll pick up some dog poop.
Yes, sir!
Here you go, you little yellow cracker.
Now let's go murder our enemies. Peace.
Bart's gone! I checked everywhere!
That little sneak disobeyed us
and went to that hip-hop festival!
If that's true, he's gonna be like NWA.
Not Without Ass-welts.
Well, time to face my punishment like a man
or lie my way out of it like a kid!
A flying rock! Call a geologist!
"We have kidnapped your son.
"Follow instructions and Bart will not be harmed."
Follow instructions? He's doomed!
This'll be the worst Thanksgiving dinner ever!
Thanksgiving's not for months!
The bad news keeps on coming!
Tragedy climbed a ladder last night
as 10-year-old Bart Simpson was snatched from his bed,
his chocolate milk dreams cut short by kidnapping fiends.
Mrs. Simpson, is the pain so unbearable
you wish your son had never been born?
Ooh! What a horrible thing to say to a mother.
Perhaps reading this message aloud will comfort you.
It's win-a-Hawaiian-getaway-week on Channel 6."
So, mail in those pineapple stickers today.
Aloha means one entry per person.
I will find Bart Simpson. Clancy Wiggum is on the case.
Chief, seriously, shouldn't we just plan for the funeral?
Hey, I crack cases all the time.
Like the case of the symphony conductor
who murdered his star cellist.
That was an episode of Columbo, Chief.
They show you who the bad guy is at the beginning of each one.
Yeah. But you have to remember.
This is no fun without Bart.
He used to watch me while I did this.
I still do.
Bart! Are the kidnappers after you?
Well, some kidnappers might be after me. It's a big world.
But in this case, I faked the whole thing.
Why? Are you mad at me?
No. It's not about you.
Oh. It's never about me!
10-23, you seen anything?
Look, I need a place to hide out until the heat is off.
In my dad's apartment, the heat is always off.
He made a coat out of all my stuffed animals.
You can hide out in my room.
My dad won't know because he's at work.
Shoo! Get outta here!
These aren't your soybeans!
Wow. I should've read these headlines a long time ago.
Together, they really paint a picture
of failure.
And now my only friend is the bottle.
Rise and shine, Chief Wiggum!
This pity party is over.
What... Officer down! Huh?
Barney Fife!
Y-E-S spells "You got it, buster!"
And I'm here to tell you
the feelings you're having are common for every
brother of the badge.
Well, my fat grew over my badge.
Oh, sour mash.
It's time for you to roll up your sleeves and get the ol'
crime sniffer out on the street.
You're right.
I gotta buckle down and do some police work.
Now that's the can-do attitude that puts dudes in the can.
Well, I'm wanted back on the set.
Set? Are you the character or the actor who plays him?
Now I must go.
Wait a minute. Now you're a ghost?
Avenge me.
Hello?
This is the kidnapper!
Do what I say and Bart won't get hurt.
Oh, yeah? Send a finger wrapped in today's paper to prove you have him.
Homer! I know what I'm doing.
You can use any section of the paper,
except Metro. It's a big snooze.
Please give me back my boy.
I just want to tell him I love him one more time.
Mom, it's me. Don't cry. I'm okay.
The kidnappers say if you worry too much,
they'll kill me.
Uh... No, no. I mean...
Okay, you made your point!
Gotta go!
All right, boys.
Let's get this tape back to the lab for analysis.
We have a lab?
Yeah. It's that room we keep the Christmas decorations in.
Uh... No, no. I mean...
What is that noise in the background?
Maybe I can isolate it.
I know I've heard that noise before.
Think, Clancy. Think.
Hail falling on a tin roof?
No. That's it!
Stovetop popcorn!
And it sounds like my favorite brand! Chintzy Pop!
Eddie, Lou!
We're going to the Kwik-E-Mart!
You already sent us there twice today.
No. That was for snacks.
This time, it's not personal.
I need the name of everyone who buys Chintzy Pop popcorn.
Oof. Chintzy Pop is the worst legal popcorn.
Many of the kernels are baby teeth.
There are only two idiots cheap enough to buy this crap.
You and...
Oh, baby.
Is there anything better than video poker and Chintzy Pop?
Whoa! I'm looking at an inside straight!
Someday I'll hear the winning music.
Someday.
Drop the corn, tighty-whitey!
What? I didn't do anything!
We'll let a judge be the judge of that!
Yo, Chief, we found the kid!
Wow. For once I did everything right.
What's going on?
I didn't know he was here! I swear!
Uh, Chief?
Is Milhouse's dad gonna be in trouble?
He's not really a bad guy.
Now, now.
There's no need for you to defend your captor, Bratty Hearst.
We're putting you in a dirty little cell.
Not as small and dirty as this apartment, but you know,
it's still pretty bad.
Oh, Bart, I'm so glad you're okay!
Oh, son! Taking your tombstone back to the store
will be the happiest thing I've ever done.
Ay, caramba!
Chief, we're sorry we didn't have faith in you.
And I'm sorry I wrote those letters to the editor calling for your ouster.
You're "Worried in West Springfield"?
Not anymore, Chief. Not anymore.
Keep those rose petals coming!
I almost stepped on regular ground back there.
Bart, two, three, four.
You put my dad in jail, flip, spin, twirl.
Milhouse, if you tell anyone, I'll tell the world
you wet your pants watching Harry Potter.
I wasn't scared. I was just peeing!
Look, if you tell what I did, I'll get in trouble.
You gotta do something!
I want my dad back!
You've got the perfect build for a suit,
44 regular.
56 huge.
Boys, even though I've been made Police Commissioner,
Don't think I've forgotten you.
Lou, you're promoted to Chief of Police. Sweet.
And Eddie, you're promoted to Lou.
Nice.
And, uh, who's gonna be Eddie?
We don't need an Eddie.
Commissioner Wiggum,
I need to confess something.
Is it that you're proud of me?
I lied about being kidnapped.
The whole thing was a hoax.
A hoax? A hoax?
Bart, please. You can't take this away from me.
How would I explain it to Ralphie?
That kid can't understand where the world goes when you close the drapes.
But what about Milhouse's dad?
Hey, this is the best thing that ever happened to that loser.
Women love famous felons.
Kirk, you are so dangerous and misunderstood.
You've kidnapped my heart.
I love the way I've heard of you.
So Bart, as you can see, from what I just said,
everyone is a winner here.
A shirt from that rap concert.
Bart must've gone to the show.
But that means...
Bart was never kidnapped?
Lisa, I'm very glad you brought me this.
I'll see that it gets to the proper authorities.
Dad!
Why did you do that?
Hollywood producers have paid me a fortune,
which I've already lost, for the rights to Bart's story.
So I have to destroy anything that proves that story's not true.
Why did you burn up your shirt?
What shirt? I don't see any shirt.
Burn the truth. Burn the truth.
So you see, Principal Skinner, that's why I had to come to you.
Wait. Why did your father burn his pants?
It doesn't matter.
The point is only with your help can I expose Bart's lies.
A chance to bring down Bart Simpson,
our school's second most wanted criminal
after the mysterious El Barto.
Sign me up.
Boys, let me tell ya. Now that I'm Commissioner,
the shaves are hotter, the steaks are thicker,
and I got my own private bathroom.
So Lou here won't be using my sonic toothbrush on his rotten choppers.
Yeah.
Uh, listen, Commissioner.
Lisa Simpson came by the office today
asking questions about her brother's kidnapping.
Questions? Yes.
As if she were trying to unravel a tapestry of deceit.
All right, people. We got a situation here.
Your daughter's gonna blow our whole deal sky high.
You leave Maggie to me.
No, Lisa.
Not her. She'll hunt us down relentlessly.
Like a bloodhound mixed with a student loan officer.
Hey, I can't leave this place.
I get three square meals a day
and trailer time with Springfield's craziest chicks.
Hey, I got the most to lose here.
I just printed up 10,000 business cards.
How am I gonna pass all these out before she catches me?
Give me a call sometime! Give me a call some...
Here comes the panic!
People, please, the only way Lisa can bust me
is if she finds someone who can prove I was at that rap show.
And I know just where she can find that someone.
Let's go cover our asses!
Wait. Before we go, I took the liberty of making these
embroidered conspiracy jackets for all of us.
Wow. Those jackets are beautiful!
We must never wear them.
Mr. Alcatraaaz, my name is Lisa Simpson.
And this is Principal Skinner. Hi.
Would you mind showing us video footage of your last concert?
No problem.
I got 200-inch plasma TV in my shoe closet.
I'm sharing a laugh with my new friends.
Homer is a fat load.
This proves Bart lied about being kidnapped.
Not yet.
Can we verify exactly what time Bart was at the show?
If only we had the exact date.
Bingo! Thank you, Mr. Alcatraaaz.
Ain't nothin'.
It is nothing.
It's idiomatic, biatch.
All right,
hand over the tape and nobody gets hurt.
Oh, this is hopeless. My gun isn't even loaded.
Nuts. They're gonna release that tape and our hoax will be exposed.
Well, I guess I'll go back to Baltimore and sell ribbon with my daddy.
"Ribbon, get your ribbon! Great for presents!"
Wait a minute. Why do we have to come clean?
Nobody's been hurt.
Everyone's happier with the lie.
The lie is love.
Wait just a minute!
Love the lie.
The way I was raised, by Mom,
I learned the truth can't be swept under the rug.
That's a very noble sentiment, Lisa.
But for once in your life, can't you just be cool?
Yeah. Be cool like us.
Coolee. Coolee cool.
Come on, fool. Be coolee coolee cool.
Yo, put away your Glocks, man. Yes.
Share with us the wisdom of the street, O mighty Alcatraaaz.
There are times in life, when the truth ain't black nor white,
but a subtler shade of gray, yo.
And when the path for justice is obscured
by the fog of uncertainty, there is only one solution.
House party!
I don't understand.
After all the corruption and deceit we witnessed,
how can everyone just party?
Lisa, the world is a very complicated place.
And when you get right down to it...
Cannonball!
Do you think there's a place in the hip-hop world,
for a 40-something elementary school administrator?
Hell, yes.
But I'm already paying a guy for that.
Skinner! I order you to step off, dawg.
I think they're making fun of me but my wife is very sick.
Whoo!