Original subtitles

Hmm.

Who are these perfectly coiffed young men

on all the billboards?

Wolfgang Von Bassdrop?

Pound Sign Von Pound Sign?

Sex Towel?

Glenn the Eruptor?

In my day, billboards advertised things that made sense,

like energy drinks or exciting new windshield repair companies.

Now it's just an endless stream of lookalike weirdos

who no one has ever heard of.

They're all DJs with residencies

at casinos and nightclubs.

They can make millions of dollars in one night.

I heard DJ Cheeseface bought his parents a mansion.

That's right, Homer.

He bought us a mansion.

Son buy mansion?

Bart is son.

What the hell are you doing?

Duh, I'm giving you a glow-up

for your rewarding new career.

Keeping you off the streets

and me in a mansion.

You're going to be the world's next hot DJ.

You can start by mixing with all my old records.

Smash Mouth, British nerd rocker Thomas Dolby.

Akron, Ohio nerd rockers Devo.

And Taco's Puttin' On the Ritz.

Mmm, tacos, pudding and Ritz.

From these musical seeds, you will grow

a mighty skyscraper of DJ fame and fortune.

Now get behind those turntables

and start spinning that big stack of black shellac.

Hey, this doesn't suck.

I've always wanted to do something creative

without actually creating something.

♪ She blinded me with science... ♪

Hmm, something's still off.

Ah!

♪ Give the past a slip... ♪

Perfect! Dominate that mix, boy.

Rave against the dawn.

♪ When a problem comes along, you must whip it ♪

♪ Before the cream sits out too long, you must whip it... ♪

What's all this ruckus?

It's the middle of the night.

If the boy's gonna succeed in the DJ world,

he needs to practice on Ibiza time,

though at this point, I don't even think

he's good enough for Corfu.

I don't know what any of those words mean,

but Maggie needs her sleep.

♪ Now whip it ♪

♪ Into shape ♪

♪ Shape it up, get straight... ♪

There, I made her A Quiet Place box.

From the mind of John Krasinski.

I hate that guy!

Bart cannot be a DJ in our basement.

Honey, I completely agree.

_

Enjoy the billboard, pally.

Seems like a good investment to me.

I don't have a single concern.

Bart... I mean Bartholomieux.

When are you planning to drop the beat?

Apparently, it's very important.

Evening, Homer, or should I say morning?

Listen, you know I like to keep my blankets dry

and my parties unpooped, but, uh, all this, well,

noise, I guess you'd call it,

is making it difficult for me and my boys to sleep.

It's not noise.

It's a tantalizing journey into sound.

Well, could you at least ask Bart to turn it diddly down?

What?!

Turn it diddly down!

♪ Diddly down, d-diddly down ♪

♪ Did-diddly down, did-did-did-did... ♪

Whoa, listen to the cool guy in the song.

I wish I was you.

See you later, DJ Stupid Mustache.

Okily-dokily.

♪ Okily-dokily, Okily-dokily ♪

♪ Did-diddly down, did-did-did... ♪

♪ Cheese mansion ♪

♪ Mansion made of cheese. ♪

What you got there, Flanders?

Well, sir, it occurred to me that, uh,

if I'm a little, uh,

inconvenienced by Bart's musical endeavors,

it's, uh, really up to me to find a solution.

So I went out and purchased three pairs of these good boys.

Noice-canceling headphones, eh?

Man, I've always wanted to try those.

Mind if I take them out for a test spin?

Well, actually, I...

Thanks, neighbor.

Hello there, Mrs. McCormick.

Dark times shall come to Evergreen Terrace

before the year is out.

Oh, Mrs. McCormick,

I do so enjoy your dire portents.

Oh, this beat's getting pretty big.

Maybe I'll drop it soon.

Or maybe I won't.

For God's sake, drop it, Bartholomieux!

The tension, while delicious, is unbearable!

Daddy, this noise unto the Lord isn't joyful.

Bart, what happened?

The beat, I waited too long to drop it.

It was like a tiger in a cage,

and I just kept taunting it.

Yates was right: "Things fall apart.

The center cannot hold."

And when he wrote that in 1918,

they didn't even have DJs.

I'm sorry, Dad,

but I'm out of the DJ game.

But what about my mansion?

I've already started interviewing butlers.

I used to think DJs were overpaid frauds,

but I now know they require the nerves of a surgeon

and the rare gift of turning music

into faster, louder music.

If anything, they aren't paid enough.

Sorry, guys.

You can all go home.

- Right, very good, sir. - As you wish, sir.

It's been an honor, sir.

I'm just glad we were able to sleep through your big explode-o

thanks to those noise-canceling headphones your father bought.

Oh, actually, I didn't buy them.

I-I kind of borrowed them from Flanders.

So Ned and his boys had to spend the night

enduring that... no offense, Bart...

racket?!

Homer Simpson, you return those headphones

and apologize immediately.

Fine.

The things I do for this family.

Oh, hey, Flanders.

I was just bringing back your headphones.

Oh, you don't look so good.

Did you get beat up at the circus?

Homer, this sweater is the one thing

you've never, ever borrowed from me.

So I'm giving it to you now.

Hmm. Hmm-hmm.

Ah, it's a little small.

Now that I've literally given you the shirt off my back,

you and I will never have any reason to interact ever again.

In fact, these are the last words I'll ever say to you.

Oh, I've never seen Ned that upset.

Ned Flanders is never going to speak to me again?

Ever? I guess I only have two words.

Woo-hoo!

The dark times have begun.

Some days I wish Mrs. McCormick had never moved here.

So, Flanders thinks he'll never speak

another word to me again, eh?

Well, I say woo-hoo.

Have I said woo-hoo yet?

You have, Homer.

Well, it bears repeating.

I mean, does he think I enjoy talking to him?

Because I don't.

You're right, if anything,

it should be me that never says another word to him.

In fact, do you know who the real victim is?

Is it you?

Bingo.

However, if Flanders thinks that by not talking to me,

he... wins,

I cannot allow that to happen.

By this time tomorrow, he'll be talking my ear off.

Great plan.

It is a great plan,

and I'll tell you why.

I'm asleep, aren't I?

Yes.

Listen up, Flanders, we need to talk

about this so-called "vow of silence" of yours.

You go first.

I've never seen my daddy so angry before.

It's like a bad movie.

Have you ever seen a movie, Todd?

No. What happens?

- A lot of stuff. - Neat!

Oh, my dad has done so many bad things to your dad,

and I think your dad has finally had enough.

I really don't think this is gonna blow over.

Oh, my God.

Look what's blowing over.

Leaves from my tree.

And they're going into Flanders' yard.

Neighbors fight over this kind of thing all the time,

so I bet you have something to say to me about it.

Oh, come on, Flanders.

Yell or something.

Put me in my place.

Should we help your dad or wait till he stops twitching?

I find it's best to wait.

_

Sir, I'm about to make your day.

I just need a full oral presentation

on all of your left-handed wares.

Spoken, please.

Left-handed apple peeler.

Left-handed chip clip.

Left-handed belt buckle.

Big Book of Left-Handed Compliments.

Hmm.

_

_

Oh, I should've known he'd have a backup Savior.

_

All the ladies in the house, go, "Hey!"

Hey!

All the fellas in the house, go, "Whoo!"

Whoo!

All the Flanders in the house, say anything!

Everybody in the house, give me a second.

Oh, boy.

Hiya, Marge.

To what do I owe my guest appearance

in your blessed day?

Actually, Ned, I was wondering if you and I could maybe

discuss this situation between you and Homer.

Of course we could.

Come on in.

_

_

So? So? Did he talk about me?

He sure did.

I got to say, Homer,

if I weren't married to you,

I probably wouldn't talk to you, either.

Oh, I can't take this anymore.

I thought Flanders not talking to me

would be a magical Mardi Gras,

but instead it's been a never-ending Lent.

Lent!

Then why not do the one thing you haven't done?

Apologize.

That's it.

I'll write him an apology.

Hmm, mm-hmm.

Mm-hmm.

Actually, Dad, it's good.

Really good.

I had no idea you had such depths of feeling in you.

I mean, wow.

You did quote the movie Point Break

more than I expected, but I really think

Mr. Flanders may finally forgive you.

I hope you're right.

I bared my whole soul in this letter, and it feels amazing.

Writers must be the happiest people in the world.

Knock 'em dead, Dad.

Aah, we've been burgled!

That's our stuff! What are you doing?

You have to tell me why you're destroying my stuff!

It's my stuff, you imbecile.

I'm reclaiming everything you've ever borrowed from me

and destroying it so you can never borrow it again.

That includes the lock on your front door.

But what about my apology?

Homer, your apology was beautiful,

heartfelt and enraging!

Huh?

You know, I gave you a pass all these years

'cause I thought you were just too dumb to know better,

but this eloquent plea for forgiveness

shows you're a thinking, feeling human being,

and you did that stuff to me anyway!

My couch!

The one thing in this world I truly love.

It's my couch.

You borrowed it from me the very first day we met.

I've got to get over there and stop this madness!

Gone to Flanders' to save couch.

Home for dinner.

My car.

You killed my car!

Okay, mister,

I'll kill your car.

Car fight!

Car fight! Car fight!

Car fight!

I don't want to hear it.

What do you two chuckleheads have to say for yourselves?

I hate him more than Joab

hated Abner in the Book of Samuel.

I hate him more than Tennessee Tuxedo

hated the tedium of his life in the zoo.

- I don't know what to say to you. - Oh, yeah?

Well, Chumley the Walrus has a lot more to say

about this situation...

I have never seen two people with such a bitter hatred

for each other outside of happily married couples.

Hmm, well, that gives me an idea for one of my folksy,

movie premise-like judgments.

Instead of jail, I sentence the two of you

to 100 hours of couples counseling.

- D'oh! - Permission to use profanity, Your Honor?

I'll allow it.

Marmalade milkshake!

_

Look, I need you both to know

that this isn't gonna be an overnight fix.

It could take years of intensive, soul-baring...

Could you please stop flicking each other in the eyeballs?

All right, that does it for talk therapy.

Luckily, there are drugs.

- I don't do drugs. - I'll have his.

There have been amazing advances in the use

of therapeutic psychedelics for dysfunctional couples.

U-completamine will take you on a shared journey

that could help resolve your conflict,

with only a slight risk of permanent brain explosion,

or "PBE."

I'll happily blow up both our brains

if there's the slightest chance of making Ned suck less.

I can't live with this anger anymore.

Let's just do it.

The drug is now slowly entering your bloodstream.

Just relax and remember...

if you see a door, open it.

If you see a road, follow it.

And most importantly...

we don't take insurance.

I'm scared.

- Where are we going? - I don't dang-diddly know.

Soul sensors activate.

How many of you beautiful mutants are ready

to drop some serious repressed emotions?

What the hell is going on?

We're cartoons.

Garfunkel!

Turtlenecks!

Good grief!

Why did we turn into all those famous duos?

Famous?

I didn't recognize any of them.

Now we have no corporeal form!

Nice going, Flanders.

Everyone's dead.

Which means no one's defending your brain castle.

Flanders' head is full of me.

Homer has a shrine to me?

I think I get it now.

I see how happy and successful you are,

so I think I'm not worthy of you.

I treat you terribly out of my own insecurity.

Also because you've got awesome stuff and I like taking it.

And I wish I could savor life half as much as you do.

But what I truly love is feeling morally superior to you.

That's why I accept and even encourage your worst behavior.

Like how you're scratching your butt

with that statue of me.

What? It's pointy.

So I-I guess what we really want is the status quo.

Status whoa!

Another U-completamine breakthrough.

Well, how is it possible we had the exact same

psychedelic sleigh ride?

And why are you a part of it?

I couldn't tell you.

No one has any idea how these drugs work.

Bye!

Well, Homer, any thoughts?

Oh, Flanders!

Homer, did you take my paper again?

No. Why would you say that?

Because you're holding it.

Florida has a hockey team?

You know what, Homer?

Okily-dokily.

Ned, I got something for you.

My sweater.

Thanks, neighborino.

You're welcome, stupid Flanders.

♪ See my vest ♪

♪ See my vest, see my vest ♪

That was Marge, bitch!

♪ Who controls the British crown? ♪

♪ Who keeps the metric system down? ♪

♪ The name's Poochie D, and I rock the telly ♪

♪ I'm half Joe Camel and a third Fonzarelli ♪

♪ He can talk, he can talk, he can talk, he can talk ♪

- ♪ I can sing ♪ - ♪ Oh, oh, Dr. Zaius ♪

- ♪ What'd I say? ♪ - ♪ Do the Bartman ♪

- ♪ What's it called? ♪ - ♪ The Bartman ♪

♪ 'Cause everyone is horrid except me ♪

- ♪ And possibly... ♪ - Hit it!

- ♪ Dr. Zaius, Dr. Zaius ♪ - ♪ Brain freeze ♪

♪ Dr. Zaius, Dr. Zaius ♪

♪ Shaving my shoulders ♪

♪ That name again is Mr. Plow. ♪

Shh!

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