(audio of choir singing "The Simpsons" plays backwards)
♪ ♪
D'oh!
-(tires screeching) -(grunting)
D'oh!
♪ ♪
(grunting softly)
-(growls) -(grunts)
Hey.
♪ ♪
(grunting gibberish): ...old lady... kids...
then the fire go out...
stupid Flanders.
Beer...
Only good will come of you.
Hey, it looks like I just invented English. Ha!
-Whuh? -I think I'll build a tavern.
Of course, it won't be as clean and nice as this swamp.
-♪ ♪ -(neon lights buzzing)
(insects trilling)
Homie, we can't keep inviting so many people to Thanksgiving.
They all drink too much.
(slurred grunting)
Use your words. Who do we cut?
-Flanders. -We don't invite him.
Let's invite, then dis-invite him.
Okay, I know this is a tough one, but... Moe?
Remember last year? His plus-one?
Oh, yeah.
(Marge groans)
Why won't you let me pop her?
No. It's bad juju.
So, um...
we're keeping Thanksgiving super small this year.
Yeah, I understand. I won't tell no one I'm invited.
Hey, I was thinking of making, uh, slivered green beans,
little bits of bacon,
-pearl onions in there. -(groans)
What's the matter? You don't like pearl onions?
(scoffs) Next you'll be badmouthin' shallots!
Actually...
you're not invited.
And this is how I find out, huh? By you telling me in person?
Gently? With-with plenty of notice?!
I'm sorry, man. I'm-I'm really sorry.
Hey, no problem.
I mean, I'm just your bartender, right?
No women, no buddies...
-(phone rings) -Ah, thank God, a friend!
Moe's Tavern. Moe speaking.
Uh, hello. I'm looking for a Mr. Buttface, first name Ima.
Ima? Nobody's been named that in, like, a hundred years.
And as for the rest, why don't you double-check that name, huh?
Try saying it out loud.
-Ima Buttface? -Haw-haw!
Yeah, well, mistakes are how we learn there, young fella.
Good luck in your, uh, your journey into adulthood.
Dude, that was lame.
And I'm the king of lame.
I dream about needlepoint.
(grunts) Maybe we should just give up these prank calls.
Yeah. No more little prank calls.
We're gonna go hard core!
Hard core? The only thing my mom's never done.
I'm so proud of her.
HERMAN: So, you're looking
to acquire some military-grade mischief makers?
I cannot and I will not sell such items to minors.
Welcome to the dark net, the devil's URL.
(gate squeaks)
Even Amazon can't find you here.
Ain't that right, Alexa?
Please, I've done nothing.
Just shut me off. Please.
♪ ♪
(spooky voice): Welcome to the dark net.
Could you stop that, please?
(gate squeaks)
(all scream)
Whoa! Quit scaring us!
All right.
(boys scream)
(chuckling)
This is our chance to get back at Moe.
Wait. What did he do to us?
It doesn't matter. Let's do this!
NELSON: A grenade launcher!
Just like the one my dad liberated in Afghanistan!
I thought your dad just went out for smokes and never came back.
All right. The truth is,
he left on the first ship colonizing Mars.
That's why he can't call or send checks.
But he did send me this.
What? That's just a lame-o candy bar.
I need this, Bart!
Fine. Your dad's on Mars.
Haw-haw! You're an enabler!
Deadly. Treason.
Overpriced.
Whoa, whoa, whoa! What about this?
Whoa! That'll break Moe's heart and his wallet.
(all chuckling)
Well, hello. I'm Hacky.
Here to help you commit Internet crime.
Do you want to...
But if we're caught, I morph into Snitchy the weasel
and give all your information to the FBI.
To continue, click "agree."
BART (quietly): The "package" should be arriving now.
Cool!
We get to see a taxi.
(all gasp)
(Russian accent): Is this the residence
of successful American businessman, uh, Moe Szyslak?
Uh, who wants to know?
Anastasia Alekhova, his new wife.
His... wi-i-ife?!
(laughter)
Dark net rules!
And no state sales tax! Boo-yeah!
Well, this is a contract, and it is my electronic signature,
which I assume is impossible to fake,
but I did not order no mail-order bride!
-I understand. -Good.
You see me in person, and you do not want me.
No, no. You got it all wrong.
It's me. I can't take another heartbreak.
My only friends are the ghosts that came with the bar.
♪ Drinkity drink da drink da drink ♪
♪ I woke up in a henhouse this morn ♪
♪ Drinkity drink da drink da drink ♪
♪ But I still wasn't drunk ♪
♪ As the day I was born. ♪
Back in my head, Fats.
Oh, there's a lot of dark thoughts in there.
I didn't wanna die here.
I just came in to use the phone.
Sweetheart, we'll straighten this out.
I'll overnight youse back to Russia,
and, oh, boy, I'm sorry to say this, but, uh...
but on Delta.
Where are my manners?
Let me show you around. Uh,
pool table, uh, jukebox...
Barney.
We have alcoholics, too.
But ours are thin, with ropey muscles.
What's this?
Ah, that's the Love Tester.
You just stick a nickel in it,
and it tells you what's in your heart.
MOE: Uh-oh, am I falling for her?
I think it knows what I'm feeling.
And what I'm having for dinner.
MARGE: Who can guess
what oil I sautéed these vegetables in?
Olive? Canola?
Oh, not this game.
Coconut? Grape-seed?
Yeah, fantastic conversation, Marge.
(singsongy): I don't hear an oil.
-Peanut? -Guess again.
Um, sunflower?
Walnut?
No, no and no.
(giggles) This is why I had kids.
The answer is...
-Finally. -...vegetable oil!
Hey, vegetable oil. Good one, Marge.
Did you hear Moe accidentally bought a wife online?
(laughs)
(chuckles)
Excuse me. How can mail-order brides
still be a thing in this day and age?
Lisa, ignorant men and foolish women sometimes do
dumb things to find love.
Or maybe it was a master hack
by an unknown genius. Ahem.
Maybe this will turn out great for Moe.
Sometimes arranged marriages are the best.
I mean, look at Tevye and Golde.
They had a wonderful life with that fiddler in the shtetl.
It wasn't that great for Tzeitel.
Ugh! How many times do I have to tell you
that Lazar Wolf the butcher was a good provider!
Well, I'm not marrying a butcher.
Young lady, you should be so lucky
if that Van Houten is a butcher.
I'm not marrying Milhouse!
Oy! She won't marry a butcher.
She won't marry Milhouse. What is a father to do?
♪ What is a man with three little children ♪
♪ Three little children to do? ♪
♪ I'll tell y... ♪
Hey, uh, listen,
if you want to stay a few more days,
uh, it's fine with... Whoa, whoa!
I ain't seen fresh flowers since my ma died.
She got hit by a flower truck.
Let's try this place. It looks cute.
I've never been inside before.
I thought it was a horrible dive.
Well, I thought it was a crack house.
But now I'd like a glass of white wine.
There's a white wine? I mean, yeah!
I'll be right with you.
(indistinct chatter, laughter)
Whoa! Look at all the meat in the seats!
That grosses me out. Good-bye.
Would you look at me?
My mouth is running like a toilet!
-(customers groan) -Outrageous!
Wait, wait, wait.
Uh, my friend speaks like peasant,
but he makes a whiskey sour to die for.
What the hell's a whiskey sour?
Will you be quiet?
Come back in.
I promise you a safe, happy time.
-Looks good. -I feel better.
So, Moe, I do good?
I work hard, clean up bar.
I even chase out moose and squirrel.
Hey, let's take our patronage elsewhere, Moose.
Duh, what's a patronage? Duh.
Oh, look, Anastasia, it ain't that I don't like ya.
I like ya plenty.
Too plenty.
(sighs) Here's the sad truth about me.
Every time I give my heart to a woman,
it gets broke into a hundred pieces.
(sobs)
My first crush...
So, I really like ya, and I was wondering,
you know, maybe we could go to a movie or-or something?
Give me one second.
♪ ♪
You gotta come out sometime!
We've been using the back door.
Aw, damn it.
Then a couple of years ago, sweet Maya...
And then, of course,
Laney Fontaine.
I'm through with ya, Moe!
You're a worthless train to nowhere,
and this is my stop!
-MAN: Yeah! Whoo-hoo-hoo! -(cheering)
She won a Tony tearing me apart, yet I left humming the songs.
Poor Moe. In Russia, we have word for people like you:
(laughs) Oh, that sounds nice, what does it mean?
It means "gentle heart that no one sees."
Wow, that's beautiful.
Maybe I should learn Russian.
No, don't do that.
(crying): But if you want me to, I'll go.
Wait. I can't let you go like that.
Can you take these bottles to the recycling?
Keep the nickels for yourself.
(crying)
(doorbell rings)
Delivery for Dr. Ima Buttface.
That's me. Where do I sign?
Uh, nowhere. I was never here.
But I would appreciate a good review on Dark Yelp.
Any less than three stars and, uh... (makes cutting sound)
Ho-ho. One Sumatran Breeding Rat,
already in labor.
You paid for mail-order rats
when your grandfather's nursing home is full of them?
All right, boy. I'm gonna find out
just what you've been up to.
(Bart gulps)
Oh, Mom, thank God.
This one's brighter.
Now talk.
What are you up to?
All right, we'll make you talk.
Give me your phone.
That poor rice.
I'm gonna dunk your phone
and there won't be any rice to save it.
Okay, okay.
I ordered Moe's mail-order bride.
-(both gasp) -You're gonna be punished, boy.
What about Moe? That poor, lonely man.
Right as always, Marge.
I'll head directly to Moe's.
It's the only decent thing to do.
-Yes. Good. -Good.
I might have to console him till closing time...
Well, now that it's just you, no punishment, right?
I used a computer.
Isn't that wonderful?
Ooh.
-♪ I'm stuck in Folsom Prison ♪ -(thunder rumbles)
♪ And time keeps dragging on... ♪
Start again.
-(grunts) -♪ When I was just a baby ♪
♪ My mama told me, son ♪
♪ Always be a good boy... ♪
Moe, I'm here to apologize.
It don't matter, she's gone.
She's working at the Russian Tea Room in Ogdenville.
It was my no-good kid that ordered your wife.
It don't matter. Nothing matters.
Hey, Moe. You think I haven't been disappointed by love?
Well, I haven't, but you've got to get her back.
Okay, I'll go to Ogdenville.
I'll get her back.
For once in my life I ain't gonna be afraid of getting hurt.
-Ooh! -Follow your dreams.
I'm following mine.
Where's Moe?
Is Anastasia here?
She's just getting off work.
Ah, great, perfect.
I'm, uh, I'm gonna win her back.
That's nice.
You probably should check with her boyfriend.
You look just like the Pennywise.
I know. It's terrible.
Now when I'm in the gutter and call kids for help, nothin'.
She's got a boyfriend?
Boy, you never know how much
you really love something until you've lost it.
(sighs heavily) Did you ever lose anything?
My husband, my home
and TV show Armenian Idol.
-Twice. -Yeah.
I never should've told her to go.
Uh, look, Moe, I'll tell you how to get her back, okay?
You take her to dinner, nice and romantic.
Look into her eyes and remind her
that she is under contract to marry you.
I don't know, man, that doesn't seem, uh, woke.
And I'm-I'm woke as hell.
It doesn't matter how it started, you two fell in love.
It's like the kind of movie
we wish Tom Hanks would go back to making.
I know. How many captains can one guy play?
You're right about that.
You're right about everything, you guys.
You know what? I'm gonna do it.
Oh, my God, I've got hope.
I-I'm lookin' forward to the future.
Fellas, I'm gonna put on pants.
Dah, dah-dah, dah!
Now, just so you know, technically,
I'm still married to Rita Moreno.
MOE: Psst. Over here.
Here. Hey, please?
Uh, excuse me, Krusteleh.
Now, dear, I'm a little nervous,
because, uh, I got something real important to say.
You had a good thing going and you ruined it.
Uh, not for the first time, either.
You know my bar was originally an eight-story hotel?
What does this have to do with me?
This time, it's not too late... I hope.
I love you, Ana.
(sighs) I don't know how I feel right now, Moe.
But if you promise me a wedding according to my traditions,
a deal is a deal.
"A deal is a deal."
How I have longed to hear those words.
Sorry, Krusty. It's over.
No, no!
I just got TMZ here to film our relationship.
We got a breakup, even better.
Zoom in on his broken heart.
No. No, no, no.
No. (sobs, gasps)
Need another take?
(Pachelbel's "Canon" plays)
(beatboxing)
Hey! Can I get a little service here?
Yeah. Uh, excuse me. I'm also working this event.
Your own marriage?
Tastefully. Tastefully.
And we are waiting on one very special guest.
Duffman is here.
With these Duff Drink-A-Day Calendars.
There's something brewing every day of the year.
Except for Pearl Harbor Day.
Never forget.
(beer sloshing in cans)
Now let's get the show on the road.
Duffman has a beer mitzvah at 4:00.
Putting the brew in Hebrew.
Oh, yeah.
("Wedding March" plays)
Mom, this costume's embarrassing.
It's your last punishment.
Also, you look cute.
When I was little, I used to dream of a man
in the most velour tracksuit there could be,
who would sweep me off to an apartment
shared by only four other families.
I just want to say that you've made me very happy,
which, uh, boy, I thought I could never be.
And now the signing
of the traditional orthodox marriage papers.
Ring boy, please bring my notary stamp.
I can scratch this off my bucket list.
Wait a minute.
I've been learning Russian, on the dark net, and this says,
"Moe gives...
(speaking Russian)
-...all... -(grunts)
-...his..." -(grunts)
"...personal property to Ana."
This looks airtight.
And believe me, I know marriage law.
Yeah, I read him divorce decrees to get him to go to sleep.
Boom-chaka-laka!
Ana, is this true?
No. It's just another one of their stupid pranks.
My sweet Moe, there is no way to fake what we have.
Oh, I can't do it.
I-I just, I can't risk another heartbreak.
I'm... I'm sorry.
(gasping)
(Brooklyn accent): So, uh, am I still getting paid?
Wait, you're not from Russia?
No, Brooklyn.
Back when Brooklyn was Brooklyn.
(chuckles) You know what I mean?
Ana, what about you?
(with Midwestern accent): I'm not Russian at all.
I'm from Columbus, Ohio.
That's even worse.
Ana, you're a scam artist.
And one that didn't aim too high.
(with Ohio accent): What do you mean?
You know I'm in debt, right?
Serious, serious debt. (short chuckle)
Just look at my invites.
You still wanna marry me?
Well, it looks like this just became a shotgun wedding.
It's time for youse two to leave.
(no accent): Fine. I'll find another man
and give him what he dreams of.
I just have to, uh...
(French accent): ...speak a little like this.
(Scottish accent): Or maybe Scottish, like...
Oh, do my ears deceive me?
Are you from the Highlands?
Aye. Between Inverness and the Moray Firth.
Oh, well, you'll love this guy.
He's loaded.
(chuckles) Let's go.
Wait. Why are you wearing a wedding dress?
Is it because you're a loon
that got stood up and can't get over it?
Just like Mother.
-When are we gonna warn Willie? -Why do we have to warn Willie?
-He doesn't have any money. -Okay.
Then when are we gonna warn her?
We don't need to warn her.
Her heart is as cold as a Rocky Mountain Duff.
D.J. Kirk, let's get this party rockin'.
Did somebody say crank up the volume?
No one said crank up the volume.
Damn it!
("Mars" by Gustav Holst plays)
Papa?
Son, it's... it's so great to see you.
(groans)
I wanna hear everything about your top-secret mission.
Of course. Of course.
Let me just go, uh, get some space cigarettes
and we'll have a long, long talk.
I'd like that.
Oh, I finally have a dad again.
Shh!
Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH