♪ ♪
D'oh!
(grunts)
Haw‐haw! Green screen.
♪ ♪
Lenny, I didn't know you had kids.
I don't.
I hired them to look like I'm a family man.
How you doing, Lenny Jr.?
Never better, Lenny Sr.
- (phone chimes) - Hey, I just got cast
as Krusty's kid at a custody hearing.
Possible recurring.
Later, loser!
(chuckles) Kids.
(feedback screeches)
Welcome, iso‐tots. (chuckles)
Are you having fun?
KIDS: Yay!
Excellent. Now, as your parents leave you alone with me,
let's begin the festivities. (chuckles)
♪ ♪
Yes, there they go. Bye‐bye.
Last mommy out. Excellent.
I now declare the start
of Put Your Kids to Work Day.
♪ ♪
(gasping, screaming)
(screaming)
This plant has over 17,000 contaminated crevices
that only your tiny hands can reach.
Get to work, slackers.
At least this ride doesn't have a creepy song.
♪ You'll work for me, or you'll get the lash ♪
♪ You won't get dental, health or cash. ♪
No!
Even Mr. Burns can't get away with this.
Oh, Monty, you've still got it.
That was like taking eight hours of work from a baby.
Mr. Burns, according to the child labor laws
of the United States...
Aah! Accountability?
In this game of cat and mouse,
I'm afraid Mr. Mouse is far smarter than...
(screams)
LISA: I know you're in here,
and nothing will stop me.
Wait, this is a men's room.
Ew, ew, ew!
Is that a tuna sandwich on the sink?
Ugh! Gross, gross, gross!
Oh, employee cave drawings.
Let's see what's on their feeble minds.
"There once was a lady from China..." (mumbles)
"And North Carolina."
I assume what's in between is unimportant.
(laughs) There!
Someone drew a big, crying cucumber. That's nice.
Ooh! Something about me.
I'll need my cheaters for this.
- ♪ ♪ - (gasping)
What?
Oh!
Oh! They hate me.
Well, maybe things are better in the ladies' room.
Effigies can be burned?
(exhales) You should have seen
those hateful graffitos, Smithers.
And the drawing of me was so off‐model.
I wouldn't worry, sir.
Our workers are pretty well‐pacified.
- Intimidation. - Alleged intimidation.
- Beatings. - Alleged beatings. Mm.
The poisonings.
Ah, yes.
We've had some alleged good times, haven't we, Smithers?
But there is an undercurrent of contempt for me.
No, there isn't.
You said Burns is worse than Hitler.
Well, not worse at his job than Hitler,
but a worse person.
(whistle blows)
Huh. Was that the work whistle?
Eh, who cares.
(scoffs) Everywhere, I'm surrounded by malcontents,
termagants and Lennys.
Well, we could show the workers some actual respect,
uh, considering how many have died.
Or I could go undercover and infiltrate the workers.
I'm beginning to suspect
these monitors have been tampered with.
I've assembled a world‐class team
to create your undercover disguise.
The face mask specialist from the Mission: Impossible movies.
I made Ving Rhames look like Kristin Chenoweth.
I don't know any of those words, but I'm impressed.
We'll also provide you with a dynamic new body.
Ooh. Does everything work?
Everything that works for you now.
Damn it! That's only two things.
And we top off the disguise with a voice modulation chip.
Mr. Burns, I'm gonna make you sound...
(deep voice): hella different.
Oh, yeah.
Let's get to work. (grunts)
(dramatic action music playing)
Oh, my God. It's extraordinary.
You now have the body and face of a man half your age.
BURNS: 78? Now, enough gallimaufry.
I want to see my reflection.
Someone bring me a mountain stream.
Say goodbye to Montgomery Burns.
Say hello to Fred Kranepool from turbine maintenance.
(whirring)
(deep voice): Excellent.
Hello, Joe. What do you know?
Just got back from the picture show.
Beat it, weirdo.
You're fired.
You can't fire me.
HOMER: Hey, newbie. Over here.
(chuckles) Homer Simpson.
Fred. Uh...
No, that's not it.
Fred Kranepool.
You seem like a happy lot here at the nuclear plant,
suckling from the teat
of the great C. Montgomery Burns.
(laughs) You said "teat."
(laughs) Yes, I did, didn't I?
(chuckles) Now that we're chums,
what's on your mind?
Any complaints? Insubordinate remarks?
LENNY: Actually, now that you mention it...
- Yes...? - (work whistle blows)
Uh‐oh. Better get back to work.
Ah, so soon?
(sighs) Sorry, but Mr. Burns has a special way
of telling you your lunchtime's over.
(hounds barking)
(screaming)
(growling)
I heard the craziest thing.
Some nuclear plants don't have hounds chasing you.
Eh, different world.
(hounds snarling)
Huh. I guess when you're on the other side of it,
releasing hounds can be cruel?
Oh, yeah. Super cruel.
I had to get rabies shots in my stomach for a month.
Skipped the last couple.
Ugh, you poor guys. Here, please.
Here's a Buffalo nickel for each of you.
Hey, thanks a lot, man.
Why don't you join us at Moe's tonight?
Moe's?
Yeah, it's that bar that was featured
on I'll Drink What Phil's Drinking
with Phil Rosenthal.
Mmm. What animal is this egg from?
Uh, I want to say horse?
Oh. Could I be sick in this?
Oh... (retching)
Somebody take Phil to the hospital.
Fred, buddy, you coming?
I'm in. Just need to signal Smithers.
(sultry action music playing)
(sighs) I hate that signal.
Moe, this is our new pal Fred.
Apparently, we've been working with him for years.
We never noticed.
Set him up with a beer. On me.
‐(shouts, wailing) ‐Fred!
(sighs) Thank you, friend.
I like the way you said that,
like it was a foreign concept or something.
(laughs) You know,
it might be John Barleycorn talking,
but you annoying fleas aren't half bad.
All we're looking for is a little friendship and respect.
Mm‐hmm.
All right.
To friendship and respect.
And also evil. I mean, I mean, football.
ALL: Football!
(cackles)
Ah, whoa, whoa. Sorry, Barn. Your seat's taken.
Oh, you show up late
for your nightly bender just once...
Uh, don't you worry.
I just instituted drive‐through service.
Drive safely.
♪ Why can't we be friends? ♪
♪ I see you 'round for a long, long time ♪
♪ (laughter) ♪
♪ I remember you ♪
♪ When you drink my wine ♪
♪ Why can't we be friends? ♪
Thank you. Thank you very much.
Okay, um, your turn to sing, Fred.
(chanting): Fred! Fred! Fred!
(chuckles) Very well.
I've got a toe‐tapper everyone can sing along with,
"The Spaniard That Blighted My Life."
"The Spaniard That Blighted My Life," BLH1493. Go.
♪ List to me, while I tell you ♪
♪ Of the Spaniard that blighted my life... ♪
Everybody!
♪ List to me, while I tell you ♪
♪ Of the man that pinched my future wife. ♪
BURNS: Those idiots like me for me, Fred Kranepool.
Uh, sir, I'm worried.
The suit just detected a heartbeat.
- I'm turning you off. - (clicks)
- Other button, sir. - Shut up.
Where is he?
I'm supposed to read him his bedtime story.
Smithers, what are you still doing up?
I was worried about you, sir.
Worried? Eh.
I just had the greatest night of my life.
- With my friends. - What?
Oh, you should've seen it, Smithers.
They enjoyed my company.
I've had "frenemies," but they were all French enemies.
Never a friend.
I think of you as more than a friend, sir.
What did I tell you about thinking?
(sighs) Well, did you find anything out?
Any scuttlebutt from the union?
The only union that concerns me now is the union of men.
What would you know about that?
(grumbles)
(Homer humming)
Where have you been? You missed dinner.
There's this really cool new guy at the plant.
You know what's cool is spending time with your family.
- That's not cool. - Yeah, Mom, it really isn't.
I agree with Mom on everything but this.
I'm sorry. Definitely not cool.
Oh, all right, all right.
I just don't trust new people in this town.
Like Lady Gaga? She came, she inspired Lisa
and we never heard from her again.
Who needs friends like that?
So, fellows,
what's on our social agenda tonight?
More galivanting, I hope?
Well, we really should do a little work.
Yeah. I have a whole inbox of unsplit atoms
I haven't gotten to yet.
Fred, are these men bothering you?
- Oh, back off, Smithers. - ALL: Whoa!
I'll box your ears next time you speak to me with such insolence.
Yes, sir.
Oh, my God.
You totally pwned him.
Hmm. I suppose I did pwn him.
I did.
Ugh, that was quite the kerfuffle.
I better go take a three‐hour nap.
No, no, wait. While Smithers is off drowning his sorrows
in a pamplemousse Perrier, Burns is unprotected.
This is the perfect time for you to represent us
and hit the old skinflint up
for a decent benefits package.
Me, talk to Burns?
Oh, I wouldn't. I‐I couldn't.
He's got the sharpest mind in all 46 states.
Hey, come on, please. For your friends.
I won't let you down.
(robotic): You down, you down, you down.
I'll help you, friends.
FRED VOICE: Don't you understand, Burns?
Without the workers, this plant is nothing.
If you give them respect,
it comes back to you a hundredfold.
(chuckles) Respect the workers?
What next? Put batteries in the smoke detectors?
Have you no heart?
I certainly do.
I'm not flooding this room with mustard gas right now.
I'll give you a chance to tell your buddies that you failed.
But then they might not like me anymore.
You're right. Friendship is something worth treasuring.
Boy, he's really raking Burns over the coals.
Yeah, I like how they're not interrupting each other.
- So polite. - BURNS: Yes, spirits, yes.
I'll give them everything they want.
- (exhales) He said... - We heard everything.
Clearly it was two people talking.
We got to spread the good news.
We love you, big guy. (grunts)
Mr. Burns, what have you done?
There is no Mr. Burns.
Only Fred.
What are you saying?
Montgomery Burns died when I put on this suit.
And six other times this week.
Thank God for the new liver and kidneys.
Wait up, guys! Beers are on me!
I might have two tonight.
That's right: two sips!
(laughs)
Hope you're hungry, Homer.
I got up at 2:00 a. m. and slow‐roasted a breakfast turkey.
Sorry, no time for food. I got to get to work.
(squeaking)
When did Homer turn into someone who wants to go into work?
Oh, no. It's in the air.
Now I want to go to school and make something of myself.
Ooh. (babbles musically)
Hey, work is amazing now.
A magical place where we get what we deserve and more.
And it's all due to Fred.
Okay, so when are we gonna meet this Fred?
Oh, you've already met him, Marge,
in the smile on my face.
(whistling)
- (door closes) - Should we tell him it's a Saturday?
Eh, not yet.
At least we'll get some of the roast turkey for once.
♪ I don't want to work ♪
♪ I want to bang on the drum all day ♪
♪ I don't want to play ♪
♪ I just want to bang on the drum all day ♪
♪ I don't want to work... ♪
♪ I want to bang on the drum all day ♪
Hey, Homer. Look what Fred made Burns give us
to handle plutonium.
Look at me. I'm Audrey Hepburn.
Lenny Leonard, you have exquisite vision
and you know it. Give me those.
Oh, I don't care what you think, 'cause Fred doesn't like you.
And once Fred gets around to it,
you ain't gonna be working here no more.
I've had enough. Simpson, come with me.
What the...?
There's something you don't know about
your good friend Fred.
I know everything I need to know
about Fred whatshisname from wherever he comes.
(gasps) Oh, my God.
That's right. Fred is Mr. Burns.
But wait a minute. Isn't that a good thing?
It means he's nice to us now.
His niceness is gonna put us out of business.
These giveaways are bankrupting us.
What should we give our friends next, Fred?
Morning yoga? Irish brides?
Okay, maybe the yoga is going too far.
It's all too far.
We're gonna go the way of the Sears catalog
and 20th Century Fox.
Are you sure this isn't because you miss the old Burns?
Of course I miss him. Who wouldn't?
Simpson, if you care about your job,
and the jobs of everyone in this plant,
you'll end your friendship with Mr. Burns.
- Permanently. - No problem.
As long as I'm still friends with Fred.
Burns is Fred.
Wha...? Oh, he is not.
- What's wrong, Homie? - Mm, not much.
I lost a friend today because Burns stepped out of him.
- What? - Well, let's just say
I can't be friends with Fred anymore
but I don't know how to tell him.
Well, don't ask me. I suck at it.
That's why I can't shake Milhouse.
I'm right here, Bart.
Our sleepover ended two days ago.
I'll call my mom again.
♪ ♪
- Hey, Fred. - Ahoy‐hoy.
Listen, Fred, we can't really hang out with you anymore.
No offense. I mean, it's just that I got to focus on work.
My console's under here somewhere.
Hey, Fred!
- The man of the hour. - Oh...
We were just working on a list of new things
you can get Old Man Burns to give us.
What do you mean "Old Man Burns"?
(laughs) I mean, he's so old.
Fossilized scarecrow.
You know, I've never seen Fred and Burns at the same time.
Which means you must hate Burns, too.
Ooh, well, we‐we don't really hate him.
Mr. Burns is a withered old corn husk
with a rotten apple for a head,
and I'm getting special clogs made up
so I can Riverdance on his grave.
(babbles musically)
You ungrateful jackals.
Smithers, where's the kill button?
Um, there isn't one, sir.
How many times have I told you,
everything must have a kill button?
Unhand me, you ape!
Why am I always referred to as an ape?
Never a gorilla or an orangutan.
Aw, monkey want a banana?
(grunts) Why, you incredibly complex...
(crying): I‐I thought
you were
my friends.
Huh. Someone's having a day.
♪ ♪
Fred, you traitor.
You've turned my employees against me.
Yeah, but they love me.
And soon, there'll be no you.
Just Fred!
♪ ♪
As all my attorneys keep telling me, why won't you die?
Because I'm the last spark of goodness in you.
It can't be extinguished!
I'm glad I went to the bathroom in you.
En garde.
(grunts)
(straining): Die, die. D‐Die, die.
It's okay, Mr. Burns. Fred's gone.
Oh, why can't I be loved and feared?
- Like God? - Why?
Because you're the boss, we're the workers.
It goes back to caveman days.
Ten guys killed the mammoth while the boss yelled at them.
Then the boss got all the meat and they got all the toenails.
Because that's the way life works.
Next came the Renaissance, and the invention of the time clock,
which meant the boss no longer had to waste time
checking on his employees
and could become pope and marry his sister.
With recent times came unions and workers' rights.
Which were then taken away in even more recent times.
Wrap it up, Homer.
That catwalk is starting to buckle.
(metal creaking)
My point is, no matter what, Mr. Burns,
the boss sucks, so why shouldn't you?
‐(blows raspberry) ‐Why indeed.
Back to work, and everything nice is canceled.
- Um, does that include... - If you have to ask,
it's canceled.
And Fred, the man I could've been,
I consign to the fires of hell.
(screeches)
Somebody stop it. No, no, no, too late.
- Oh, poor Fred. - It's a costume, you idiot.
A lot of work goes into those.
- Good to have you back, sir. - (chuckles)
Good to‐‐ Oh, Smithers.
I left my car fob in that suit. Go get it.
But that's certain death, sir.
- Yes, but for you. - You're back.
Or am I?
Attention, everyone.
This is your new coworker Don Phoneyman.
Please show him the ropes.
I'm not going through this again. Come on.
We know it's you, Mr. Burns, and we'll prove it.
Release the hounds. They won't touch you.
(barking)
Well, what do you know? He's real.
I didn't know we could call the hounds.
We can also operate the trapdoor.
(receding): I'll get you for this!
Engage karaoke mode.
♪ List to me while I tell you ♪
♪ Of the Spaniard that blighted my life ♪
♪ List to me, while I tell you ♪
♪ Of the man that pinched my future wife. ♪
Shh!
Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH