CHOIR: ♪ The Simpsons ♪
(exclaiming)
(school bell ringing)
(Barney belches)
(whistle blows)
(yells)
(beeping)
(playing the blues)
(tires screeching)
D'oh!
(tires screeching)
(grunts)
('60s themed music)
('70s themed music)
(thud)
('80s piano music)
(all yelling)
(sighs)
And that's why I really don't believe there's a God.
Thank you, and God bless America.
You were only supposed to lead us in the Pledge of Allegiance.
I'm pretty sure it was in there somewhere.
Oh. Now, let me conclude by thanking Moe the bartender
for hosting this meeting while City Hall is fumigated for bedbugs.
Bedbugs?
Just why is there a bed in City Hall?
(crowd murmurs)
Er, uh, meeting adjourned!
(record scratches) ♪ All night long ♪
♪ All night ♪
-♪ All night ♪ -♪ All night ♪
♪ All night long ♪
♪ All night ♪
-♪ All night ♪ -♪ All night ♪
♪ All night long ♪
♪ All night ♪
-♪ All night ♪ -♪ All night ♪
♪ All night long ♪
♪ All night ♪
♪ Unh! ♪
♪ Everyone you meet ♪
♪ They're jamming in the street ♪
-♪ All night long ♪ -♪ All night ♪
♪ Yeah, I said... ♪
This is so convenient!
I can go straight from doing my civic duty
to having a beer with my best friend Carl.
And I can toss back a Duff Sangre de los Muertos
with my best friend: Mexican Duffman.
Ho-la!
Hey, Moe, who's your best friend?
Uh...
Well, uh... Well, I just made friends
with Pepto-Bismol on Facebook, and, uh... um...
Hey, would you look at that? There's a spot on the bar.
-Come on! (grunting) -(squeaking)
You know what?
I think Moe's best friend is really that bar rag.
(laughter)
That's even sadder than being friends with Milhouse!
(chuckles) You know something, Bart?
I'm getting tired of things like that.
Tired of what? I dump on you, and you take it.
That's how friendship works.
Not anymore. Friendship over.
-Taxi! -(door slams)
What gives? He's not crawling back.
Even a kid who wears a "Finding Nemo" back brace has some pride.
You went too far this time, Bart.
Hey, Moe! I got a job here for your "best friend," the bar rag.
Me, too! (laughs)
-(all laughing) -Oily.
(growls)
Great meeting, though.
Yes, that's right, everyone laugh at the rag.
But I was not always
this be-stained swatch you see before you.
Oh, no, gentles.
We begin in early medieval France...
♪ ♪
BAR RAG: A young peasant wife struggles to feed her family...
Maman, we are starving...
Listen to the grumbling of our estomacs!
(grumbling sounds)
That's not your estomacs!
It's some men speaking French!
(speaking French)
Now, I have work to do. Complain to your papa.
Papa? He is no help at all.
Marguerite, I leave to fight in Flanders!
Stupid Flanders.
(trumpet fanfare blows)
All tremble before the duc de Springfield!
That's enough!
Madame, I would like you
to weave me a tapestry with the following images:
Me healing the sick.
Me killing the healthy.
Me marrying my sister.
A long winter where nothing happens.
Me relaxing with friends.
You know, the standard stuff.
For this, I shall pay you two copper coins.
You have 25 years to complete it.
You may have one 15-minute déjeuner.
(bleating)
Oh, these innocent creatures are blocking my path.
I could walk six paces that way...
or I could kill them all right now!
I am heartily sorry and confess all my sins.
Absolved!
-Allons-y! -(neighs)
BAR RAG: In their dying fury,
those beasts began expelling demon wool.
And the restless spirits of those murdered sheep
compelled Marguerite to loom ceaselessly,
even as her husband went off to fight
again and again...
and again.
(grunting)
BAR RAG: As the years went by,
the images she loomed were not of the Duc,
but rather depictions of the adventures
that cloth would experience over the centuries.
Oh, and by the way...
that tapestry was me.
Right, and I was the Gutenberg Bible.
Maman, we have failed to grow.
We've had too little food!
Is it too little food or too much complaining?
Maman, you are overstressed. You need a vacation.
Perhaps to the South of France.
We're in the South of France!
BAR RAG: One day, as rosy-fingered Dawn
wiped the morning gunk from her eyes,
the Duc came to claim his infernal drapes.
What an age for prosthetics we live in.
Silence! I have reached my verdict.
-It's not what I expected. -(gasping)
-And yet... it's beautiful! -(sighing)
But it's also not what I expected.
Burn down their house!
(hoofbeat)
(explosion)
BAR RAG: But Le Duc was about to be called home
to the worst kind of hell: medieval hell.
-(neighs) -(yells)
Hey, let's show some French courage and beat up the corpse!
Come on, Ralphie, have a try.
Oh! We're submitting that
to France's Funniest Cave Paintings.
(humming)
Mm-hmm, hm.
BAR RAG: Even for a tapestry made of demon wool,
this was hard to watch.
I was moved to a magnificent cathedral
and learned that tapestries
were the rock stars of the Middle Ages.
(excited screaming)
I had legions of what you now call groupies.
It felt like the good times
known as the Dark Ages would never end.
But then cruel fate knocked upon the door...
(yelling)
Guys, it ain't working-- the door's too strong.
(grunting)
(yelling)
Go, Vikings.
Ow! Stop it!
You just broke your vow of silence.
It wasn't a vow. I just didn't want to talk to you.
Oh!
This Viking stuff is too dangerous.
I'm going to become a gentleman art thief.
(yells)
(laughing)
Huh?
Hmm, what the...? (delighted chuckle)
(gasps)
Spooky.
Hmm... hmm.
BAR RAG: That was the first time I knew anguish and fear.
Nothing will ever staunch the pain of that memory.
Oh. Well, that helps. (belches)
-(rock hits window) -BART: Milhouse!
-Milhouse! -(sighs)
What do you--
(choking)
Hmm?
What is it, Bart?
Listen, um... after our fight, I couldn't sleep.
Well, I was doing fine.
Warm glass of milk, some choice cuts from The Wriggles
and I was out.
Come on, man. At least listen to what I have to say.
Okay...
Um... well...
this is usually the part where you say you're sorry.
Bart, I'm not your puppet.
I know, I made you into a real boy last week.
And I'll always be grateful.
But it's time you started treating me with respect.
(rocks hitting window)
(sighs) They're a tough pair, huh?
Kirk-- (choking)
If you let me in, I'll give you the Heimlich.
Hm-mm.
So to recap: I had been unjustly torn
from my lofty perch.
I wound up as a barter in Persia.
You have taken our gold
and jewels and given us this faded cloth?!
That's right. And if anyone asked who swindled you,
it was Christians.
Remember that name: Christians.
(growling)
BAR RAG: I found myself in the court of the young Persian king,
a cruel king who demanded
constant entertainment from his wives.
♪♪
Eh. Throw her in the pit of boring wives.
(thud)
We never go out anymore.
Are you even listening to me?
My sister has a much bigger pit.
Dude, you've already discarded, like, 500 wives.
I think it's weird that you're counting.
Send in the next one!
Good evening, Your Majesty.
May I tell you your slippers are as curly as everyone says?
(laughing nervously)
Eh, pit her.
Wait, wait, wait!
I can, uh, tell you a story!
Cease your dragging!
Uh... There once was a boy named Ali Baba.
He and his elder brother Cassim
were the sons of a merchant
who traded in camels and spices and--
Okay, just a couple thoughts on your direction so far.
One day, while out for a walk,
Ali Baba was set upon by a thief.
-(yawning) -Make that two thieves!
-(more interested yawn) -A million thieves!
(yawning) Too many.
(sighs) Forty thieves.
(pleasant yawning)
BAR RAG: With her inventiveness and wit,
the clever wife entertained her king
for a thousand and one nights.
And while he slept, she freed her imprisoned compatriots.
Uh, it was cooler in the pit.
And that's how the camel got its hump. (sigh)
Another story!
(exasperated sigh) For once, couldn't you just take
a few minutes to let the previous story sink in?
You dare refuse your king?
Guards! Uh-oh.
BAR RAG: My downward spiral continued.
Only cowards use blindfolds.
(screams) I didn't know you were doing that!
BAR RAG: I was unfit for even the most sordid uses.
How's your neck, Your Lordship? No splinters or nuffin'?
I fear the ax less than that filthy rag.
You talk fancy now, but you'll twitch like the rest.
All too true, I fear.
Shut up!
Your tongue is even sharper than your--
BAR RAG: But then, at my lowest ebb, a moment of hope.
I played a pivotal role in creating
one of the masterpieces of Western art.
Michelangelo!
When will you be finished?
Hey, you want a quickie? You go to Raphael, baby.
BAR RAG: The artist was never satisfied.
How about now?
Nope.
That's perfect!
Now would you like to protect your investment
with a clear coat?
Hm, let me discuss it with my wife.
BAR RAG: The masterpiece was finished
and so was the use for me.
And then...
(pained moaning)
You know, Moe, it might be time to buy a new bar rag.
Yeah, yeah, sure thing. I'll get right on it.
No way I would abandon you, Raggie.
(sobs) You're my best friend.
("The Great Pumpkin Waltz" playing)
(contented sigh)
(music continues)
So, I guess you didn't eat that "special cheese"
that I gave you yesterday, huh?
(wry chuckle) Yeah.
Oh, Milhouse,
what do I have to do, besides changing in any way,
to get you to forgive me?
Gee, Bart, you seem, uh-- how can I put it?--
Milhousey.
Really? It's not that bad, is it?
(sighs) Bart, you'll never learn.
"Milhouse, you're the closest thing I have to a brother.
A brother with the wisdom of an older sister.
And that's why we squabble, 'cause families always do.
But in the end, they're still a family.
What do you say... brother?"
Not bad. Did Lisa write that?
Yes, I did. Now I'm going to bed.
(sucking pacifier)
I want something that comes from you, Bart. We're done here.
But-but-but...
The glasses are off!
My degradation continued.
BAR RAG: An enterprising seamstress
turned me into the flag of a fledgling nation.
Unfortunately, a nation on the wrong side of history.
("Dixie" playing)
(chuckles)
BAR RAG: Like everyone else, I was hit hard by the depression.
(Southern accent) What's for dinner, Ma?
Rag soup!
(slurping, lips smacking)
Needs flavor.
Mmm, that's better!
BAR RAG: I was part of an expedition
to the top of Mount Everest,
one that had the distinction of failing un-heroically.
(panting) Oxygen...
I need oxygen!
Come on, man. A few more balloons
and this'll look really awesome.
D'oh!
Worst... climbing... Everest.
BAR RAG: A yeti found me
and brought me home as a present to his son.
Ah, ah!
Mmm...
(sighs) And now my thousand-year fall from grace is complete.
I guess I should be happy here, with my sad, but predictable...
Moe! Moe! Wake up!
Oh no, I don't want to find out what's worse than you!
BART: Milhouse!
I've been out here all night, man.
Just let me know what it'll take for you to forgive me.
-Can I punch you? -Sure.
Can I have someone else punch you?
Sure. What've you got?
Puppy Goo-Goo coming my way?
(snaps)
Ay carumba!
I'm glad it's over.
I wasn't comfortable having the upper hand.
From now on I'll dominate you in ways you don't realize.
That's all I ever wanted.
Where'd it go? Where'd it go?
Hey, Chief Wiggum! Can you help me find my bar rag?
I can't even find my car in the parking lot at the mall.
There was half a kilo of heroin and two suspects inside.
-Hey! Hey! -(tires squealing, gunshots)
Can you throw me my house key? Please!
It's got a green thingy on it!
-Stop! -(tires screech)
Ooh!
Hey, there's some Pringles in here.
-(metal tab pops) -(coughs) Nope. Tear gas.
-(coughing) -(tires squealing)
Haven't forgotten about your rag, Moe!
I'm in hell, I'm in hell, I'm in hell,
I'm in hell... (grunts)
(wearily) Perhaps one of you garments
would like to narrate for a while.
Men's extra large underwear?
I'm saving my strength.
He's going bike riding today.
(humming)
-(doorbell rings) -Come on in!
You've got my rag! But how?
Well, during the town meeting,
which now seems like years ago,
I forgot my purse at your bar.
MARGE: And when I came back to get it,
I saw how much you love that rag.
Num-num-num-num-num-num.
MARGE: It seemed a little "ripe,"
so I brought it home to clean it for you.
Thanks, Marge.
That rag is my only friend in the world.
Well, that's not true!
Everyone in this family is your friend.
Your bar is the closest thing this town has
to an Algonquin roundtable.
What about that Round Table Pizza run by that Algonquin guy?
Yeah, yeah, okay, second closest.
So you's all like me? Even you, Maestro?
Milhouse.
Yeah, I, I knew it was something stupid.
Well, thanks, everybody.
I... I'm always gonna remember today as the day
that I learned to open my heart to human beings
and not old pieces of cloth.
Ha, crazy me, thinking I needed a rag for a friend.
(chuckles)
So, this is how it ends.
The once magnificent tapestry tossed aside
yet again like a common Kleenex.
Good-bye, cruel... What the...?
In all my years,
this is a love like I have never felt.
Sweet, pure and forever.
(sweet melody playing)
(growling)
BAR RAG: Well, all marriages have their ups and downs.
BAR RAG: I'm in hell.
Subtitled by A. Vandelay