-(whimpers) -CHOIR: ♪ The Simpsons ♪
(crow caws)
(theme music playing)
(gasps)
(school bell ringing)
(Barney belches)
-(whistle blows) -(yells)
(beeping)
(playing the blues)
-Ooh! -(gunfire)
(tires screeching)
-(horn honks) -(Grampa shouts)
D'oh!
-(tires screeching) -(grunts)
(alarm clock rings)
(happy music playing)
(music continues)
(grunting, sighing)
Dodgeball!
-(kids cheering, whooping) -GIRL: Yay, Dodgeball!
We're down to our final four huckers!
Three wily fourth graders
and one scrappy fifth gradesman!
-To the death! -(kids shouting)
("Pipeline" by the Ventures playing)
-(grunts) -(cheering)
(bell clangs)
(fireworks whistling, exploding)
(whooshing)
(rumbling, crackling)
(explosions)
("Pipeline" ends)
(kids shouting)
(grunts)
Ha...
ah... ah...
Where do you want your ball mark,
face or belly?
How about... in your dreams!
Hee-yah!
(balls whooshing)
(grunting)
(kids shouting, cheering)
I'm not the coach! There is no coach!
I just wanted to see if you were wearing a bra.
Oh. (chuckles)
Your four eyes saw a lot today, Milhouse.
What's the skinny?
The fifth graders played a great game.
They got a great program up there. Great fans!
But this was just our day.
Whatever happens, they can never take away... Aah!
The ball never touched the ground-- and I caught it!
That means fifth graders win!
No way!
What a rip!
Shut your gobs!
I only took this refereeing job
'cause I was cold and needed a shirt!
-(kids cheering) -(Willie gasping)
(Willie snoring)
(snoring continues)
(Willie grunts)
-(kids cheering) -(Willie snoring)
(ominous music plays)
I hate you fifth graders!
I deem this victory Pyrrhic!
ALL (chanting): Pyrrhic! Pyrrhic!
Your response is puerile!
ALL (chanting): Puerile! Puerile!
(to "The Old Gray Mare") ♪ There goes the fifth grade ♪
♪ Floatin' down the Delaware ♪
♪ Chewin' on their underwear, can't afford another pair ♪
♪ Ten days later, bitten by a polar bear ♪
♪ That's how the polar bear died ♪
(groaning, chattering)
How dare they dishonor the lyrics of "Old Gray Mare"!
How dare they!
(grunting)
Zach! Zach!
Who did this to you?
It was... it was...
the fourth graders!
(dramatic orchestral music plays)
I like to think my kids would know how to lose gracefully.
In the fifth grade, we teach character.
Mike, let's be adults here.
You're right, Edna.
-(coughs) Fourth sucks. -Oh, that's it!
(bell dings)
-(steam hissing) -(screams)
(old-time Western saloon piano playing)
(grunting)
(vicious yelling)
(yells)
(grunts)
(grumbles) Why, I oughta...
Hey, fourth graders,
can you help us with our fractions?
Oh, wait, you can't.
(laughter)
They ain't even read Where the Red Fern Grows yet.
(laughter)
That's it! We challenge you to a rumble.
Challenge accepted.
This is gonna be great!
A real rumble, just like in that movie
where the Jets fought the Sharks.
Hmm...
("Jet Song" from West Side Story playing)
(crowd cheers)
Rumble it is!
After school, rain or shine.
(thunder crashing)
-Anybody want to wait for shine? -ALL: Yeah.
Definitely shine.
It's agreed-- no biting, no throwing rocks,
no face farts, flying face farts,
backdoor haircuts, 'nad noogies,
moist Michaels, and absolutely no "Brazilian hardwood."
Is this a rumble or a harvest dance?
Okay, you want hardwood?
No, no, no, no.
Then let's do this thing.
(angry muttering)
You know, if they do this regularly,
maybe it could count as gym.
Did you wear those same clothes yesterday?
No. I have two identical sets of these clothes.
I see. With a stain on the shirt in the exact same place?
(sighs) Things aren't good at home.
(ominous drum beating)
Rumble!
Why don't you head on home, pal.
Bless you.
(grunts)
Huh?
Where'd you get that scar?
I had it as long as I can remember. Why?
You call that a scar?!
This is a scar!
That's your belly button.
Everybody's got one.
(sobbing) I thought I was special.
BART: When did this happen?
You sure none of you guys gave me this?
I'm going through my bully logbook here,
but I just don't see it.
Don't be afraid to use your glasses.
-You shut up! -(groans)
"January 9th, whaled on Jimbo with this book.
Awaiting results."
(sobs, sniffles)
"Unqualified success."
(metallic clatter)
Why do you have to eat peanuts in the shower?
Can't start the day without that fresh-from-the-circus feeling.
(humming calliope music)
(groans)
Mom, do you have any idea how I got this scar?
(groans) I was afraid this day would come.
Ew! You're sitting on the toilet!
When it's closed, it's a chair.
When you were little, I used to take you
to a Mommy-and-Me toddler gym.
You were friends with three other boys,
and I became close with their moms.
But they were a bad influence on you.
Ah... such an innocent time.
Before cooties ravaged our community.
How come we don't get together anymore?
The moms and I had a falling out, which was a shame--
we had been such good friends.
Whoa!
You don't look like a mom, you look happy.
We called ourselves the "Cool Moms."
There's nothing cooler than calling yourself cool.
Maybe we could get back together.
Awesome! I'll get the white wine.
You can't buy white wine!
Why not? Are you having red meat?
-Oh! -Are you through with the chair?
-I've got to do the taxes. -It's all yours.
(mumbling) ...number of dependents, three.
Um, add to line 13...
Hmm, better check last year's return.
Hmm.
Seven years.
A lot of memories.
Talking, chatting.
Remember how we used to reminisce?
ALL: Mm-hmm.
You know who was really happy to get back together?
Our husbands!
Been a while since our wives got together, huh?
-Mm. -Whatever.
(snorts) Why are we getting together again?
I was so happy when it stopped.
Let's just shut up and get through this, all right?
(Homer smacking lips like ticking clock)
Homer, stop doing that.
(smacking lips like ticking clock)
Homer!
(text message alert ringing)
Ooh, I got a text!
I got a text.
Are you gonna open it?
No, that page isn't optimized for cell phone use...
Why am I talking to you?!
Because you're my best friend in the room.
BART: Wow! We all have the same scar!
So how'd you get yours?
My mom won't tell me.
My mom will tell me how my dad is in bed,
but not about this.
Ever do a cold drop out of a tree house?
Only, like, every day.
More like all day every day.
(loud grunting)
BART: Cowabunga...!
(laughter)
(coughing)
Check out my gnarly backwards foot!
(laughter)
(slowly stops laughing)
(groans)
(laughter)
I said, "For the price of this coffee,
I should have just flown to Brazil."
(laughter)
Anyone see a good beer commercial lately?
Asinine. Everything you say is asinine.
Those dudes were intense.
I'm glad you had fun,
because we're all getting together next week.
Great. Great.
Oh, and, Homie, can you come home early from work tomorrow
so I can have a girls' night out?
Sure, I'll stay home and Skype with the guys at Moe's.
Hey, how you doing, Home...
(distorted buzzing)
Stupid Flanders' Wi-Fi.
(grunts) Uh, that wasn't the Wi-Fi.
My Bell's palsy's acting up.
(distorted buzzing)
Yeah, it can be tough, but, you know, I try to stay posit...
(distorted buzzing)
(volume lowering)
I've been dying to try it.
Marge, who are you cutting up that chicken for?
The kids aren't here.
Huh? Oh. Myself, I guess.
Who's kicking?
No one. No one's kicking.
Sorry.
I'm just not used to everyone behaving.
Oh, Marge.
If you don't have a life outside your kids,
how do you expect to be happy?
I've got a great idea.
From now on, the four of us will get together every Tuesday.
Go out on a Tuesday?
Who am I, Charlie Sheen?
Fine, I'll do it.
Oh...
(gasps)
Oh...
(humming jaunty tune)
(gasps) Oh...
"Ion." Hmm.
(gasps) No.
"Irene Ryan is... (gasps)
-(tires squeal) -...TV's Granny."
-(car door closes) -MARGE: Thanks for the ride!
-(vehicle drives away) -Hmm? (chuckling)
This is late for Marge. I assume.
I've never been home at this hour.
(Santa's Little Helper barking)
MARGE: Shh, shh, shh, shh, shh, shh!
Hey, Marge.
Partaking of the grape, were we?
(slurring) Just a little Merlot...
Mmm...
You want to stay up and talk a while?
Are you sleepy? I'm not sleepy.
(laughs)
And Anita's family rented a beach house,
and guess what?
They went to the beach every day.
Oh, great. That's great.
But I have to get to work in the morning.
But I don't want a beach house.
Sand makes me sad
because it used to be big rocks.
But not anymore.
Not anymore...
(both sobbing)
It's kind of weird, us all being naked in here.
(sighs) We're not naked.
Right. Neither am I.
Listen, any of you guys want to play Old Maid?
Don't be a wuss. We all did it.
Chicken!
(all clucking)
(grunting)
(all clucking)
If I do it, you're supposed to stop!
Don't tell a chicken when to cluck.
You're not the chicken, I'm the chicken!
-Chicken! -(all clucking)
(groans)
Ooh, three!
-Bart? -Hey.
(coughs)
They dared me to see how many TV remotes
I could stick in my mouth.
We've got to stop Mom from going out with those women.
Something drove them apart once before.
And I bet it has something to do with this scar.
I've seen this mark before.
On you, every time you come in.
(laughs)
I believe it had something to do with Comic Book Guy.
Comic Book Guy? Thanks.
Listen. Are you going to see him now?
You can give him some news for me.
Tell him it's the worst prognosis ever.
(laughs)
(horn honks)
Oh! I knew this day would come.
Although, frankly, I thought it would have been a long time ago.
You are very uncurious about your body.
All right, Comic Book Guy. Tell me my origin story.
I will not relive the horror of that day!
The answer is "no,"
and I can say it in Na'vi or Klingon,
which are pretty much the same.
I have some theories on that
which I will share with you never.
-(slurps) -You leave me no choice.
I hold in my hands a mint-condition copy
of the legendary Interesting Stories Number 27.
Oh! Oh, the first appearance of Radioactive Man.
And if you don't tell us what we want to know...
(cries out) How do I know that is not a cheap reprint?
Are you willing to take that chance?
Yes.
No! No! No!
I'll tell you what you want to know.
Could we hurry this up?
I am really uncomfortable being a girl in this store.
Very well.
I shall tell you what happened to you and your friends
several years ago.
But for you to understand it, I must go back a little further.
Our story begins with the creation of Middle Earth,
as recounted in the "Ainulindalë"
and the "Valaquenta."
Behold Melkor, proudest of the Ainu!
Look, pal, we've gotta speed this up.
Fine. Children just want to know what is,
and not why it is. (slurps)
Your scar, like Tom Cruise's last good movie,
was born on the Fourth of July.
It was seven years ago,
a time when "twilight" meant the end of the day
and not the most barftastic horror franchise of all time.
(crying)
(confused jabbering)
Earth's single sun was setting,
and the Mayor began to speak...
Even though most of this town collaborated with the British,
and we are still in informal talks
to return to their empire,
we all love fireworks!
CROWD: Yay!
Traditionally, the Fourth of July fireworks
were operated by the person most likely
to be sober and dateless.
Once again, the honor fell to me.
(boom)
(cheering)
This is your TV for the year, kids.
And the embers is your dinner.
-(explosions) -(crowd exclaiming)
While I was busy tending to a critical matter
of great delicacy,
you and your diaper-wearing droogs ruined everything!
(explosions)
(crowd gasping)
(panicked shouts)
(gasps)
(boom)
(scorching hiss)
(boys cry out)
(groans)
And that is when the four of you
each received the mark of the sword.
Hmm.
Every Fourth of July I remember that fallen hero.
God, how I miss you.
So, what's the plan again?
I go to see those other guys, we blow this junk up,
once again Mom decides that they're a bad influence on me,
and she stops seeing those women who make her so happy.
(gasps) What are you boys doing?
Uh, we're doing a project on...
uh, uh, uh... the subject of...
something pertaining to...
here it comes...
Milhouse, I'm getting tired of waiting.
Can I go home and think of a lie?
-Yes, you may. -(Milhouse groans)
Mom, I'll admit it--
I wanted to create a devastating explosion
to get back my mom.
Aw, Bart, sweetie...
I love you kids with all my heart,
but damn it, I need something for myself!
I made you a coffee mug on Mother's Day!
-Isn't that enough? -It's close, but no.
I could light these, but it wouldn't be the same.
(laughs)
Well, I've put it off
but today I'm finally getting this garage organized.
(loud explosion)
HOMER (dazed): Guess I'll put these tools away.
Hang 'em on hooks and such.
So Bart, the little dickens,
was gonna set off an explosion to break us up.
Can you believe it? (giggles)
Actually, we can believe it.
What are you talking about?
Your son always was the bad apple of the bunch.
You know nothing about my son
and even less about apples.
(gasps)
(gun cocks, fires)
I remember why I left this group seven years ago,
and it's why I'm leaving now.
Good day, ladies.
Well, since she's gone...
(all giggle)
Come here, you.
Sorry you broke up with your friends, Mom.
Oh, I think they were never my friends.
Maybe true friends aren't random people
you meet at a Mommy-and-Me class.
They're random people you meet in a college dorm.
Maybe Lisa and I can be friends.
Not with each other, but with you.
Oh...
-Ow! -Ah!
Grr.
Hey, does Dad know you and the cool moms broke up?
Well, Homer got along so well with the other dads,
I couldn't break it to him.
Oh. Can we at least drink beer or something?
Why do you keep trying to engage us?
Hey-diddily-hi, Homer.
Oh, you beautiful man!
Oh... that feeling is Mutual of Omaha.
God, you're hilarious.
(theme music playing)
Shh!
Subtitled by A. Vandelay