Original subtitles

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Congratulations, sir... it's eight puppies.

Four boys, three girls, and, uh,

one who would prefer not to be labeled yet.

Excellent, eight purebred puppies

descended from the first litter

of Karl Friedrich Dobermann himself.

Smithers, you're in charge of their training.

Teach them all the classic commands.

Sit, stay...

and bite striking workers with your "wittle teefers."

Yes, Mr. Burns.

And you've allowed the training dummies

to fall into terrible disrepair.

So I've ordered a new one.

Here he is now.

Um, I was told there'd be a taco truck?

Don't worry, their adult teeth haven't come in yet.

Just look out for their much sharper baby teeth.

Hmm. Hmm.

Ah, I guess "Executive Kennel Supervisor"

is all I'll ever be to Mr. Burns.

Nothing... ow... worse... ow...

than not being respected... ow...

at work! Ow!

Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow. Ow.

Ow. Ow. Ow.

- Ow. - Aw!

Ah, the puppies are finally

murderous enough to be doled out

to my rich and powerful allies who need watchdogs.

Now to look through the pile of bribes

and see who's begging hard enough to earn a puppy.

Warren Buffett sent this box of broken wooden pieces.

Sir, that's a puzzle.

It certainly is a puzzle.

What's his game, sending me these misshapen bits?

Uh, well, it's an activity people do for fun.

With their friends. Perhaps you and I could...

Perhaps you could stop assuming familiarity

with your betters.

Now de-gunk the puppies' eyes!

Oh, if only I'd been born in a litter of puppies,

then maybe someone would love me.

Simpson!

Come on, Mr. Smithers, you don't have to be lonely.

You've totally got it going on.

You've got that bow tie and those glasses

and that hunky nasal voice.

Oh, sadly, the Springfield dating pool is

pretty bleak.

It's always guys who don't want to commit,

or straight guys who are going through a phase.

Disco Stu is

hetero-flexible. Ooh!

I just want someone to be there when I get home.

Someone who loves me unconditionally.

Oh, yeah, that's the good stuff.

It's the conditions that'll kill ya.

Mr. Smithers, I'm gonna find you a man-Marge.

Look at this guy... he seems perfect!

That's me.

Oh, yeah. Well, it is a much younger picture.

Goodbye. Thank you for the oil.

I love it.

Excellent.

Well, that's the last of the litter.

Oh, except for you.

You're no killer, with those soft eyes

and kind disposition.

You've brought shame to the very notion of inbreeding.

Go on, bite him.

Bite his doughy face.

Who's gonna take you home?

I hope they find you a dictator

who's as sweet as you are.

Or... how about a Fortune 500 fashion designer

who's already made a matching suit for the puppy?

Good muscle tone, needy, with a slight drooling problem.

Reminds me of my last boyfriend.

His last girlfriend was a boy?

Your last girlfriend was a boy?

Oh, I'm sorry. I was just...

Negotiating the sale of excess Kilowatt hours

to a Chinese server farm.

- And you got a very good deal. - Mm.

I also speak Mandarin. I'm Michael de Graaf,

and I flew here from my villa in Milan to claim this puppy.

I can offer Burns a priceless Impressionist painting.

Mr. Burns' collection could use a Manet...

Well, I've got a Monet and a guy who can change O's to A's.

Mm, Mr. Burns would never know the difference.

He hates art... he just wants to keep it out of museums.

But first I told him you have some questions

about what the puppy's looking for in a companion.

Well, uh, this is an unusual Dobermann.

Uh, are you prepared for a dog that's sweet,

maybe a little shy, but just wants to give his heart

to someone who loves him?

He sounds like a dream come true.

Okay, the puppy's yours, Mr. de Graaf.

Please, it's Michael.

This calls for a celebration.

Are you free for dinner tonight?

I'm sorry?

You're talented, smart as a whip,

and hot in a 1960s Cape Canaveral kind of way.

I'd love to take you on a date.

Well, I'd love...

to say yes!

I love this place! It's so old school.

It reminds me of my childhood... laminated menus,

fossilized Parmesan, problematic murals.

Welcome-a to Luigi's.

Italiana food for everybody.

I put a-salt and a-pepper on the table,

but for you, such a handsome couple,

if you want-a pepper and-a pepper,

hey, that's a-wonderful, too!

Vintage vinyl.

Add some spikes to it, and you've got half

of Vivienne Westwood's career.

Okay, that was a fake laugh.

I was afraid to admit I don't know anything about fashion.

Oh, that's so refreshing.

People usually want to date me to get into GQ,

meet Anna Wintour, or co-parent Anderson Cooper's baby.

I guess that was just Anderson Cooper.

Waylon, you are like no one I've ever met.

Mamma, no! God-a loves everybody!

But what about Uncle Benito and the roommate

he always-a brings to Easter supper?

Mamma, no! Do not put a hex on their ziti!

_

People like me should spend more time in flyover country,

see what America's really like.

More like fly-around country. Planes won't go near us

because of all the teens with laser pointers.

It's a shame you have to leave tomorrow.

Oh, I'm canceling my flight.

- Why? - Because it would be much harder

to fall in love with you from Milan.

Homer, what happened?

I can feel it... my fix-up is working.

I changed the destiny of two human beings.

I am a gay matchmaking God!

What about some straight matchmaking for us?

I'm a God, not a miracle worker.

And he posted you on his Instagram?

Cute caption? Gay couple emoji?

I'm excited!

What was that?

Oh, just guy stuff.

Smithers was updating me on his boyfriend.

- Boyfriend? - Yeah, no big deal.

I kind of fixed Smithers up with a dude I know.

Now they're going steady. No big deal.

Wait, wait, I just have one question.

Can I ask you a thousand questions?

Sorry, Marge, late for work.

Tell me everything!

Um, they've been dating for six weeks or so.

You probably don't even know him.

He's some fashion designer guy.

Michael de Graaf.

What?

Smithers is dating Michael de Graaf,

the judge on seasons ten through 15 of America's Got Fabric?

He has my favorite catchphrase!

Now, that is avant-gorgeous.

Oh, my God, honey, you got catchphrased.

And he's even more famous for his savage zings.

I don't know. It's a little Sex and the City.

If there were no sex and the city was Milwaukee.

They dress so bad in Milwaukee.

I assume.

Hmm?

I have to meet Michael de Graaf!

Okay, okay. When they come back from their trip.

Ooh, whisked off by a billionaire.

How romantic. Where did they go?

Well, Smithers says they're too young for Provincetown,

too monogamous for Fire Island

and you know how Waylon gets in Palm Springs.

No, I don't!

I don't know anything!

Yeah, it's pretty sweet

to completely alter the course of people's lives.

If it goes great, I'm a genius.

If it goes south,

I just turn off my phone.

Ah, a beautiful resort,

a turquoise ocean.

The only thing missing is Christine Baranski

singing "Dancing Queen."

I thought you might say that.

♪ Friday night and the lights are low ♪

♪ Looking out for a place to go ♪

Oh, my God! How much did that cost?

Less than you might think.

- Oh, and I got you something else. - Oh.

I call it the Waylon.

Like you, it's sophisticated yet playful,

as blue and sparkling as your eyes.

Okay, I've got to go.

I'm helping a 13-year-old boy come out to his parents.

To Jacksonville!

♪ Digging the dancing queen...! ♪

_

Sorry I'm late, sir.

A-And sorry I wasn't available this weekend.

Or last weekend. I was...

You were gone?

Who cares? I figured it out.

These pieces are designed to interlock.

But to what purpose?

Sir, it is a puzzle.

Not for long, man.

Monty Burns is on the case.

The obvious first step is to sort every piece by weight.

Waylon!

Marge? Why are you in the executive parking lot?

Who cares?

Tell me all about Michael de Graaf!

Well, Michael's kind of perfect.

Attentive, treats me like an equal,

has never trap-doored an entire Girl Scout troop

because they were out of Thin Mints.

I mean, it's nice to finally be in love with someone...

- good. - I'm dying to meet him.

What if we threw you two a party?

A party. That's what people do

when they finally have something worth celebrating.

- Let's do it! - Yes!

This makes me part of your couple origin story.

I'm in!

Just what I always wanted for him,

a handsome billionaire boyfriend.

So happy.

Excuse me, Mr. de Graaf,

we love your wicked zingers on the show.

Could you?

My pleasure.

Wow, it was so kind of Estelle Getty

to donate her wardrobe for your production of The Crucible.

Hello and welcome to Grey Gardens.

At least those ladies had a look.

You have a "don't look."

Do you like my top?

Yes, I love the shoulder pads.

Is something I would have said in the '90s but not about that.

Do you like my top?

Yes. He seems very nice.

Is it wrong to enjoy being envied?

Because I am savoring it.

When did you first realize that Homer was the one,

the great love of your life?

Well, after he got me pregnant,

I just knew he was someone I was gonna have kids with.

Aw. Mwah.

Young lady, I like your quirky fashion sense.

That zigzag dress hem is everything.

Thanks, but I don't really pay attention to fashion.

It doesn't seem... super important.

I'd like to suggest some alterations. May I?

I mean, it's a waste of your time, but fine.

Wearing the same thing every day is a choice,

so I can free up my mind to think about important things,

rather than "Am I on trend?"

Ha, whatever that means.

You know who didn't care about fashion?

Ruth Bader Ginsburg.

She slapped on a doily and that was enough.

This obsession with appearance in our culture...

Did you make me taller?

I feel so confident.

I don't even have a job, but I'm going to ask for a raise.

A toast to our hosts.

And to Marge's hair,

which is avant-gorgeous.

Oh!

And I want you to be the first to hear...

I've decided to manufacture my new retail line

right here in Springfield,

in the factory that used to make fidget spinners.

Spin-ners!

And if anyone needs a job, there are applications

right next to the best coleslaw I've ever had.

Ooh-hoo!

Mamma, everyone is-a happy.

Why are you so against this-a love? Why?

I hate...

because I hate-a myself!

I... I love-a the women.

No, Mamma, you are beautiful.

You love-a the women, and I love-a the you.

I had a pillow of-a Gina Lollobrigida

that I used to, oh...

Oh, oh, okay, okay, okay, Mamma!

Look, it's Michael's new factory!

So modern.

Can we look inside?

Yeah, do you know anybody that works there?

Ha, well, they hired most of the desperate saps

who've been unemployed forever.

So, yeah, I'm friends with all of 'em.

This week's trend is glitter on sunglasses.

So we got right on it.

What happens to all the toxic stuff?

It gets off-glittered through the chimney.

Hey, look at me, I'm a working stiff!

Very stiff. These chemicals are giving me a condition

my doctor calls "living rigor mortis."

_

No wonder fast fashion is so inexpensive.

This place is terrible for the environment.

And it's a sweatshop!

No, sweetie, it's a sweatpants shop.

Which are made with Lycra, which leaches into the sea.

Our oceans are now ten percent spandex.

Well, then they'll fit the Earth more snugly.

Dad, how can Michael allow this?

I thought gay people were supposed to be better than us.

You mean our boss?

He knows.

_

No. Michael's the perfect guy for Smithers.

I picked him out!

I fixed them up!

My gay matchmaking reputation is ruined!

The human suffering is bad, too.

How do I tell Smithers that the love of his life

is running a sweatshop?

Hey, look, you tried to play God,

and now, like God,

you get to stand back and laugh at all the losers' suffering.

Ha-ha.

Ah, losers.

Oh, who knew gay relationships could be complicated?

Man, tough day on the line.

Another guy lost an arm to the spaghetti strap slicer.

Oh, I don't feel so good.

I think I spent too much time in the tie-dye chamber.

You think that's bad?

I got to go break a guy's heart.

There he is!

The man who showed me that love is real

and there is a man at the end of the rainbow.

Oof. Speaking of showing you things you didn't know,

look what his factory's done to Lake Springfield.

Wha...?

It's gone plaid.

M-Michael must have an explanation.

He-He's a good man.

Uh, I just need advice

from someone who understands the ethical challenges

faced by business leaders.

Smithers, I've made amazing progress.

By giving this enigma my undivided attention,

I've proven conclusively these pieces form...

a secret image.

I can't believe I'm asking you this,

but I-I have a question about, uh...

my love life.

Indeed. Tell me about the lucky lady.

- Man. - Oh. What's her...

- His. - ...name?

- Michael. - Michelle. Such a lovely name.

And, uh, what does she...

- He. - ...do?

Well, that's just it, sir.

He's the CEO of a major company.

He's wonderful to me, but I-I'm worried

he might ruthlessly care about nothing but profit.

Ooh, don't tell me,

is it Sheryl Sandberg?

No, it's Michael de Graaf.

Michael de Graaf? Smithers, you fool.

Marry that man right now.

- What? - So you have to pretend to be gay... who cares?

He's a billionaire.

Come, you must see.

A denim fire?

De Graaf's discovered the secret.

Fast fashion is far more toxic than nuclear power.

- It's worse? - Nuclear energy gives people warmth and light.

This guy is profiting off a product nobody needs:

a constant stream of brand-new skinnied jeans

and be-cropped tops.

Look what they've done to Blinky.

Our toxins may have created the three-eyed fish,

but we never managed to kill it.

You've got yourself one hell of a guy.

Don't let him slip away.

I always thought a Chernobyl in Springfield

would be caused by my horrible boss,

not my perfect boyfriend.

Something's clogging the engine!

My God, it's loungewear.

Loungewear!

Michael, your factory is literally a toxic workplace.

Don't worry, sweetie.

I've got an amazing crisis management company.

They're the ones who squelched the story

that Peloton seats are made from dolphin faces.

If I'm making clothes

for Tommy Target and Wendy Walmart,

they have to be cheap.

Because in fast fashion,

whoever cuts the most corners wins.

I can't believe I fell in love with a monster.

Really? It seems to me that you have a pretty consistent type.

Ah.

Exquisite.

Is that acid?

No, molten sports bra.

Waylon, you deserve Milan, Paris,

at the very least, a town with a Chipotle.

I love that you care about what's right,

but, for once, do what's right for you.

Come away with me and be adored.

Adored would be a nice change.

To seeing the best in each other

and ignoring everything else.

I'll drink to that.

Ooh! Idiot!

These pants are made of cashmere and shredded Picassos.

Buck up, pal.

Beautiful jet-setting gay billionaires

are a dime a dozen in this town.

It's gonna take some time to get over Michael.

But I did get one thing out of the relationship.

Someone to be there when I come home,

who will love me unconditionally.

You're the one hound I'll never release.

_

The last piece. You will reveal your secrets to me.

Good Lord! All this time, it was a hot-air balloon!

Yes, sir, just like the picture on the box.

There was a picture? Well, that could have saved me months!

Oh, well. Now I can get back to crushing unions,

fouling the air and garbaging the Pacific.

Sir, before you do that,

maybe you'd like to try another puzzle?

This one's a little harder.

It's a hundred pieces, and, uh,

two of the unicorns look pretty similar.

Clear my calendar! Lock the door!

Turn up the Wagner.

Shh!

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