Original subtitles

C-SPAN 5 now takes you to testimony

before the Joint Committee on Terrible Events.

The Chair recognizes the woman with the four-foot beehive.

Please state your name and occupation.

Uh, Marjorie Bouvier Simpson.

Mother to three children

and a husband.

She's raising us all on her own.

Mrs. Simpson, please walk us through

the events of March 12.

Well, it all started with what was supposed to be

a happy family trip.

The Simpsons are going to Pile Ridge, Louisiana.

Oh, the trip is already ruined.

What is this gunk?

Oh, that's my lentil soup.

Lisa!

Well, what else am I supposed to eat

at your family's barbaric pig butchery?

It's boucherie.

It's a cherished Bouvier tradition

that reunites our extended family

and celebrates our Cajun roots.

And they shoot the pig in the head,

John Wick-style. Look.

Stop, it's horrifying.

Mmm. Delicious.

Horrifying!

Mr. Simpson, as I understand it,

you were enticed by the thought of enjoying savory meats,

but repulsed by the appearance of your wife's family.

Yes, Senator, I cannot perjure myself.

They are barf in human form.

I reclaim my time.

Traveling brings out Homer's worst qualities.

Oh! All the seats are taken by jerks and their bags.

Maybe we can sit in there.

- _ - That looks comfy.

Squirt em' if you got em'.

Oh!

Your hoops are quivering. Calm down.

Now boarding: Active-duty TV clowns.

Some sober companion you are.

I'm only three hours out of rehab

and I can smell the booze on you.

You mean my hand sanitizer?

Ooh, Daddy want!

Mrs. Simpson, we're overbooked.

Your seats are no longer together.

This is bull!

I demand to speak to Sully Sullenberger!

Homer, stop it.

You always do this. You'll get us banned.

So? We'll take our business elsewh...

There is no elsewhere.

Because of your past behavior,

you're on the No Fly List

of every other airline in the country.

Even Spirit.

Try it again.

So, unless you want all our future vacations

to be at my mother's house, talking her into hospice,

you will hold it together on this flight.

I promise, Marge. I won't let you down.

I do have some good news.

We have one free upgrade for a seat in first class.

Ooh, I bet I'd really keep my promise to behave

if I'm in that spacious lie-flat pod.

Well, you'll never know.

Yoink.

Uh-uh, sweetie, first class is this way.

Welcome.

Oh, my God.

I'm turning left.

I didn't know planes had a left.

Ah. Ooh.

Oh...

Oh, the seat is so plush and comfy.

May I get you anything?

I want everything.

The whole first class experience.

Cold bubbly, warm nuts, hot towel...

all the temperatures!

Let's start you out with a complimentary Moet mimosa

with extra zest and a little...

Oh.

Okay, Homer, you can do this.

Have a pleasant flight for Marge.

- Ow, my head! - Watch it!

Ow!

God, don't let this slob

be next to me.

God, don't let this slob

be next to me.

Good morning, everyone.

My name is Joel,

and I'll be your "wingman" today.

Thank you.

Just a reminder: Federal law prohibits smoking of any kind,

unless, like me, you're smokin' hot.

Oh, great.

Forced comedy at 9:00 in the morning.

Now, Maggie, screens turn brains to mush.

That's why Bart has to take ESL classes.

I'll parent you how I wanted to be parented,

and sibling you how I wanted to be sibbled,

with my Jazz Legends A-to-Z flashcards.

Cannonball Adderley.

He was more hard bop then bebop.

Okay, movie fans, it's time for

everybody's favorite in-flight flick,

the safety demo.

Remember this come Oscar time.

Good thing I've got my annoyance-canceling headphones.

Ooh, we are really packed in here, aren't we?

Something is very wrong with this plane.

This is a trap!

It's a conspiracy to take us down!

- Get out of here! - Oh. Oh!

They're experimenting on us!

I won't be a rat in your flying cage!

Ah, a seat for my second cheek.

Yo, travel trolls.

A crazy lady just got kicked off the plane

so I jump-squatted a sweet aisle seat.

Give my 40,000 followers a moan, bald dude.

D'oh.

♪ D'oh, d'oh ♪

♪ D-d-d-d-d-d'oh ♪

♪ D-d-d-d-d-d'oh. ♪

Toenail clipper?

Sardine eater?

Disgusto-flossers?

Hiya!

Karate children?

Marge, I'm trying to hold it together,

just like I promised.

But it seems like this plane is filled with

all the worst flyers in the world.

Well, his text was correct, senator.

Our airline serves the fastest-growing demographic

in air travel: the criminally obnoxious.

At Convenience Airways,

we fly the No Fly List.

Mr. Wingspan... if that is your funny name...

you mean to tell us

that you filled an entire plane with obnoxious people

who were banned from other airlines?

Yes. Our business model is to cater to C.I.F.s:

"Civility Impaired Fliers."

- Hiya! - Control your team!

Violence is a form of control.

Yes, Sensei. Hiya!

This was our inaugural flight,

testing if the innovative precautions we had taken

were enough to safely transport the rudest of the rude.

- Like this man. - _

Aw, come on.

You choke out one guy with a seat belt extender

and you're labeled for life.

But on this flight,

I promised Marge I would behave,

and I really tried.

It was torture.

Torture!

Who would do such a thing to Patrick Wilson?

Eyes on your own screen.

Ugh.

And, no, you may not have any of

my triad of expired Christmas delights.

Mmm, cheese.

Mmm, butter, caramel...

Mmm.

And now, the shower of champions.

Huzzah.

Come on.

Uh, excuse me.

I promised my wife I wouldn't fight or yell

or pee anywhere other than the bathroom,

but this guy next to me is making it really hard.

What guy?

The Comic Book Guy guy.

Huh? He just disappeared.

Well, it looks like the problem took care of itself.

That is so weird.

Hey, guys, you asked for it, I'm doing it.

The bathroom sink shrimp scampi challenge.

Oh.

Marge, I'm barely holding it together back here.

Please text me back some sweet words of comfort.

Hey, hey...

- Huzzah... - Hey, hey...

Zounds...

Oh...

needs tonic.

Die, die, die!

No, don't die!

They're all dead.

Oh, I need to play something.

I'm winning. I'm winning.

Just a reminder, folks,

the call button is only for real emergencies,

like if you're down to your last guess on Wordle.

Uh, I have a real emergency.

Your jokes suck.

"S" is for Sun Ra.

He's a little abstract,

but when you get it, you'll really get it.

Dig this.

Somebody shut that brat up!

Oh, that's my brat.

Stop judging her!

I don't know what to do.

I've been turning the jazz up as loud as I can,

but it's not soothing her.

Is this an airline or a nursery?

Mustn't punch the jerk.

Mustn't punch the jerk.

It's so loud, I can barely hear myself

feel up my mistress under this blanket.

Okay, gang, we're about to start

our beverage and snack service.

If you feel like a pretzel,

that means the guy in front of you

has his seat all the way back.

Just because it sounds like a joke

doesn't mean it is one.

Come back in ten years, kid.

I got voicemails older than you. Ha!

And now it's time for your headliner. Me!

This guy's jokes suck so hard,

we're about to lose cabin pressure.

Okay, okay. People, don't encourage him!

...is what Joel's guidance counselor told his parents.

Give me that.

This is your unfunny flight attendant Joel speaking.

Here are some more of my terrible jokes.

Left forward lavatory.

Ay, caramba!

Okay, so Daddy doesn't get into a fistfight,

we're going to take a little walk.

Dad, I figured out what's gonna calm Maggie.

Improvisations in the style of pre-heroin Coltrane.

Mama!

No, no, we can't bother Mommy...

...or she'll leave us all for good.

Hey, champ, I lost $50,000

on your pay-per-view fight against Vanilla Ice.

You owe me!

Come on, champ, I'm talking to you, champ.

Oh, no, my Chekhov's gin.

Nobody licks me but my tiger.

That baby's a lap-sitting freeloader.

I am sorry you have to put up with that guy.

We're all just doing our best.

Yeah. Parents don't get to go into airplane mode, do we?

Thank God. Two sensible people.

Wylder, it's time.

- ♪ Let's all sing ♪ - Yeesh.

♪ The potty song ♪

Oh, no... No, no, no.

Our little guy is on a strict potty training schedule.

♪ When it's time to make a poo-poo ♪

♪ Give a shout, whoo-hoo. ♪

Whoo-hoo!

No hoo!

Um, do you guys have any diapers?

Uh, we don't use the "D" word.

Oh, boy.

- Deal with your biohazard! - Change that baby!

- What's wrong with you? - Oh, come on!

That's not a baby, that's a hate crime.

Lisa, where's the diaper bag?

I don't have it.

Why don't you ask your girlfriend, Maggie?

Maggie's not my girlfriend, Marge is.

That's it. Marge has it.

There's the bag.

Maggie, crawl through the clown fight.

Don't kill him, champ.

My pension is almost vested.

Okay, Maggie, to the bathroom.

We made it.

Toilet Chef.

In-laws!

Care to join our Mile-High Book Club?

Readers!

SunChips. Give me, give me.

What the...?

Where is everybody?

Please calmly return to your seat, sir.

What did you do with all the horrible people I hate?

Tell me what's going on.

Or I'll seatbelt you good.

And why don't they make the whole plane out of the...

black box material...?

This is your captain speaking.

If you look to your left, you will see

the magnificent Grand Canyon.

Unless you're one of the 246 unruly souls who've been

trap-doored into our complimentary in-flight prison.

Trapdoors that lead to a prison? Since when?

What monster could conceive of something this horrible?

BurnsCo.

Proudly installing trapdoor dungeon drops since 1926.

Is there anything more satisfying

than a scream of terror followed by a distant thud?

Mr. Wingspan, this is America.

When we violate people's civil liberties,

we usually give them a heads-up, drop pamphlets,

send a cruise missile, uh, something.

Senator, I assure you, we did warn the passengers

of the potential consequences of their actions.

It's all in the safety video.

But nobody watches those things.

Should you choose to be unruly,

you'll be trap-doored into our belly-of-the-plane prison.

If your behavior is too extreme,

a ball gag will fall from the ceiling.

Please affix your own ball gag first

before ball-gagging your child.

See? I was right.

I tried to warn you, but you all thought I was crazy.

Not to criticize, but maybe it's your tone?

My tone is fine!

And that concludes your beverage service.

He's pretty funny.

No, he's not, he sucks.

Take that!

They can't do this to us!

Buying a ticket gives us the right to do what we want.

There's no law in the sky.

I say we bust out.

Who's with me?

We'll need every available weapon.

I got toenail clippers. And some pretty sharp toenails.

I got an airsick bag of hot bathroom shrimp.

My darling Marge.

I am writing you from the cusp of yet another prison riot.

If I die in this heroic escape attempt,

remember me as a blameless victim.

One who got caught up in the coach-to-prison pipeline.

BTW, lost Maggie, hope she's with you.

Lots going on. Shrug emoji.

Marge is writing me back.

Stop? Stop what?

Wine, wine, wine?

Do you want me to stop whining?

Bee. Man.

Be a man?

X. Lobster.

Don't be shellfish?

Oh, my God, I am always thinking of my shelf.

Window seat.

Window seat. Window seat.

No! This revolt is wrong.

I know this because my wife just spoke to me

in a series of direct and unambiguous emojis.

Let us not be pigs. Or mules.

Or a mermaid with a fax machine.

Sure, we have to put up with baggage fees,

no leg room, and those $20 "protein boxes."

But flying is a modern miracle,

and all that's asked of us in return

is basic human decency.

Mm, I could be more patient with kids and babies.

After all, I am a preschool teacher.

I'm sorry I savagely beat your husband with your hair bone.

He's not my...

Oh, forget it.

So to quote my wife,

we have to start acting civilized

and stop being a bunch of huge...

eggplants.

Well, folks, now that you've exhibited

a modicum of civility,

the handcuff sign has been turned off.

You are now free to return to your seats

and work through the childhood trauma

that led you to behave like the ugliest

of ugly Americans today.

Excuse me, Mrs. Simpson.

We'll be landing soon, so we need you

to return your seat to its upright position.

What? We're landing?

I slept through my first first class?

Yes, but you got the most perfect flying experience

anyone could ever ask for.

You didn't even know you were on a plane.

Aw.

And then she gave me the best cookie of my entire life.

Aw, cookie.

After listening to the 14 hours of testimony today,

I propose that Convenience Airways'

radical passenger control system be approved for use

across the entire airline industry.

- Hear! Hear! - Yes.

I agree.

Well, I say, trap-door them all

and let the FAA sort it out.

Excellent.

- So ordered. - Wait.

As the one person who was not trap-doored on this flight,

I believe I have the authority to say

that mass in-flight incarceration is not the answer.

We need thoughtful solutions

to this epidemic of rudeness and disrespect.

Sure, it's easy to push a button

and drop all your problems down a trap...

door...!

Ow!

Honey, are you hurt?

I'm okay. I landed on my hair.

In our Convenience Airways in-flight prison,

cigarettes are not accepted as currency.

Preferred method of payment is sexual favors.

Please do not fashion

the courtesy toothbrush into a shiv.

Complimentary shivs are provided upon request.

In the unlikely event of a water landing,

your cellmate may be used as a floatation device.

Should you tamper with your handcuffs,

you will be ejected from the plane.

Parachutes are available for purchase on our website.

We know you have no choice in airplane prisons,

but we appreciate you being locked up with us.

And don't forget to sign up for our Frequent Felon Program.

Shh!

- synced and corrected by sot26 - www.addic7ed.com