All language subtitles for The Simpsons S37E02 Keep Chalm and Gary On 1080p DSNP WEB-DL DDP5 1 H 264-Kitsune_track3_[eng]

Read it and weep.

An "A"? I do read it,
and I do weep.

Oh, my special little guy.

Hmm. This isn't Bart's work.

He used an artificial
intelligence app

called CheatGPT
to write his essay.

So what? It's not illegal.

It doesn't have to be illegal
to be unethical.

Your words mean nothing
and your face is a butt.

Do, too, and...

Hey. Tongues down.

Just give me a moment
to say goodbye.

All right, we lost her.

Dad, can you please
explain to Bart

why using A.I.
to do his homework is wrong?

Yeah, sure. Uh...

Relying on
artificial intelligence

to complete assignments
could undermine

the development
of critical analytical skills.

What? You just prompted CheatGPT

to write that speech for you.

Give me back my phone brain
so me father better parent good.

Ugh. Those poor teachers.

How are they gonna
deal with this?

"In conclusion,
the protagonist embraces

"the story's central dichotomy
of familiar versus exotic,

"thus realizing
that he does enjoy

green eggs in addition to ham."

I'm supposed to believe that
was written by Ralph Wiggum?

It's the A.I.
We can't keep up with it.

- Help us.
- You have to do something. -

We're aware the students are
using CheatGPT on their devices,

so in order to stay
one step ahead of them,

we've purchased
A.I. detection software.

Teacher's Net?

As always, the teachers
are four steps behind.

We've only got five minutes
in the server room

before lunch lady Dora
comes down to spit chaw.

Oh, no problem. Just let me
install this patch,

and detection software
overridden.

Okay, they have destroyed
our detection software

and somehow also locked us out
of the microwave.

My ramen is in there.

It just keeps spinning.

We're not beaten yet.

We're installing
a state-of-the-art firewall

so that our system
is un-hackable.

They think we can't
get around a firewall.

Say hello to my little VPN.

The firewall has fallen.

No!

Gods, man. We're breached.

That's it. We have no choice
but to invoke

the banana option.

Why is all our homework
about bananas?

"Einstein's theory of relativity

is a linchpin in modern
banana science." Huh?

- They ghost-prompted us.
- Explain.

I was gonna.

The teachers hid the word
"banana" in our assignments

- in invisible white text.
- Hmm.

Explain further.

So, when we pasted the
homework prompts into CheatGPT,

we didn't realize we also
asked it to write about bananas.

They banana us,
we'll banana them.

We banana-ed
them, they banana-ed us.

Skin-ner! Your I.T. spending
is through the roof, Seymour.

The battle against A.I.
isn't cheap, sir.

Well, the solution is simple.

I'm going to announce it
today at assembly.

And why do I smell bananas?

Uh... because I'm happy
to see you.

Y--

I am thrilled to announce
that Springfield Elementary

is now a phone-free school.

And all the homework
will be handwritten in class.

Trust me, cell phone distraction
is the enemy of learning.

In fact, that was the subject
of my master's thesis

at The Ogdenville
State University.

This is just like Animal Farm,
and we're the bananas.

Everyone, put your phone
in these pouches,

which renders them unusable
until the end of the day.

Nice try, bucko.

You know,
I used to like Chalmers

'cause he'd yell at Seymour.

Thanks to him, I know
what the word "impotent" means.

This has gone too far. We've
got to get rid of this guy.

But how do you get
a superintendent fired?

Gary Chalmers is like
a mouse in a bubble bath,

squeaky clean. Hmm?

Huh?

Unless...

Chalmers said he went
to Ogdenville State, right?

Yeah, that's where he said
he did his master's feces.

Why don't we shake that thesis,
and see what falls out?

Plagiarism?
I'm not a plagiarist.

Well, we got an anonymous tip
about some improprieties

in your graduate work.

Ironically, the A.I. software
you authorized

to catch the kids cheating,
it caught you.

But I would never cheat.

You neglected to put
quotation marks

around two different
cited passages.

And it's like the difference
between "ibid" and "op cit"

means absolutely nothing to you.

Comptroller,

surely these are
inconsequential infractions.

We have a "zero tolerance policy

when it comes to plagiarism."

And I'm using
quote fingers accurately

because I'm citing the author
of our school honor code...

you.

Hoist with my own petard.

Stealing from Shakespeare.
You're shameless. And fired.

Punctual, as always, Willie.

Leave him on the hood
of his car?

As per protocol.

So, I guess my dad stole
some words or something.

Anyway, he was arrested.

I-I wasn't arrested,
I was fired.

Always told the students that,
when they look in the mirror,

they should be proud of
the person looking back at them.

Ugh.

Now that I'm no longer
superintendent,

I don't know who I see anymore.

Yeah, I think he got arrested.

Oh, a bartender's favorite song,

the sigh of a depressed loser
with money to burn.

Actually, I, uh, lost my job.

Fired? Oh man, that's rough.

Yeah, we've all been there.

You can talk to us, or--

I devoted my life
to public service,

and what do I get, hmm?

A backstab
from the searing knife

of academic technicality.

And that's when I went from
intendent to superintendent.

I took the title
over the pay bump.

Never leaving a child behind,

even though, sometimes,
I desperately,

oh, I desperately
wanted to do that.

Well, at least
I've got a new place

to spend all my time, huh?

This must not come to pass.

I thought he was gonna be
our Frasier,

but it turns out
he's our Rebecca.

Do something.
Talking to him was your idea.

Talking to him was my idea.

I didn't know
we had to listen to him.

Hey, Mr. Fascinating.

You know what
might make you less

of a massively annoying bummer?

I could get you a job
at the power plant.

Oh, please. Why would they want
to hire a disgraced educator,

a middle-aged man
past his prime?

But let me tell you
how citations

should really work, huh?

Whew, sweet silence at last.

Get off my lawn, you drunks.

Are you going to eat a third
crumb cake, or is that about it?

Hey, it's Super-Custodian
Chalmers.

Just call me Gary.

Rather not be reminded
about what I am now.

How's your first day going?

Well, I've already cleaned
the work stations,

de-gunked the eyewash annex,

and origamied the exposed square
of toilet paper in each stall,

like so. Hmm?

Buddy, buddy,
you're giving 110% right now.

You need to cut that
in half to... um... uh... uh...

- 55%?
- No, that's way too high.

Uh, what about initiative
and pride in a job well done?

You're even doing
too much work in this argument.

You need to simply appear busy.
Come on.

Walk with me.

Actually, I'm pretty sure
I outrank a janitor,

so I'm gonna need you to push me
around in your trash can.

Good lord. I mean,
they're more checked out

than the public school teachers.

See? You're working too hard.
Take a seat, relax,

enjoy a crumb cake
while I explain

the most important thing.

You need to develop
a sixth sense

for when the boss is about to--

Ahem.

Oh, I'm...
I am so sorry, sirs. I--

Taking a break?
Punish him, Smithers.

I'd do it myself, but that
"ahem" took too much out of me.

The tunnels behind the
cooling towers need cleaning.

Right now. Chalm-ers.

Uh, yes, sir. Right-right-right
away, sir. Yes.

Ooh.

Chalm-ers.

I mean, who talks like that?

If I had underlings,
I'd treat them with--

What the hell was that?

Who's there?
Wh-What touched me? Wh...

Oh, Lord Tennyson in a top hat.

Oh, dear God.

Some sort of mutated
nuclear super snails.

Shoo, shoo now, shoo, go away.

Please, take pity
on a broken man

who's had every last shred
of his dignity

stripped away from him.

Horror movies suck now.

45 minutes and there hasn't been
a single jump scare.

- Dad! You look--
- I know, I know.

I look like a pathetic failure
of a father,

of a school administrator,
of a man.

Shut up, I was gonna say
you look amazing.

Really?

Bro, spill your
skincare routine right now.

All I did was lie in a tunnel,

covered in the mucus
of absurdly large snails.

Snail slime?
Did you bring me any?

Dad, give it!

Oh, why on earth
would you want snail mucus?

It's called mucin, stupid.

It contains regenerative healing
properties and boosts collagen.

T.L.D.R., it makes
your face snatched.

People pay, like,
actual money for it.

They pay for this mucin?

Sir, for the Christmas card
this year,

would you like the hounds'
pajamas to match yours

or just tastefully
complement them?

Hmm... Can we prepare both
and decide on the day?

Oh, absolutely.

Gentlemen.

Oh, Smithers,
I must thank you for firing

that old janitor yesterday.

It's invigorating to see some
fresh young faces around here.

Actually, I-I think that
is the same old janitor.

- The very same.
- But how?

You look amazing. Spill your
skincare routine right now.

You know my daughter Shauna
said the same thing.

Shauna Chalmers complimented
you? That's huge, sir.

Mm...

I believe that the slime
of the specially adapted snails

here at the plant
rejuvenated my skin,

and I have a way to monetize it.

And why should we listen to you?

A businessman.

A business plan.

Gentlemen,
snail mucin as skincare

is a four-billion-dollar-a-year
business.

You have the raw material,
the manpower,

and the infrastructure.

All you're missing
is a visionary

who can take this enterprise
to the next level. Me.

Yes. Yes, quite.

Welcome to Men-trepreneurs,

the podcast

that finally celebrates
companies run by and for men.

Today, we look
at the rocketing success

of the men's skincare brand
Escarbro.

Please welcome the founder
and CE-bro, Gary Chalmers.

Well, it's an honor to be here.

And, you know, I've been
a Patreon supporter of yours

ever since five dollars a month
became nothing to me.

So, Gary, you used to be
in the public sector, no?

Yes, "boo" my lost decades.

However, I have nothing but
gratitude for that broken path

because it brought me to a
dank tunnel of snail secretions.

Gratitude is huge.

So grateful for it.

Gratitude's my oxygen.

Oh, Thanksgiving
is my favorite holiday.

Thanksgiving's my Christmas. We
don't even celebrate Christmas,

just two Thanksgivings.

Well, uh, anyway,
that nuclear snail hole--

and I-I write about this
in the book--

it "phase shifted" me

from a misguided do-gooder
into a disruptive entrepreneur.

Your marketing strategy
is revolutionary.

You're making normal guys
feel insecure about their looks.

I mean, that's the kind of
insecurity that, up until now,

only women were allowed to feel.

Well, at the end of the day,
it's about lifting people up.

So grateful.

Escarbro is lighting the 'Gram,
the 'Tok, and the 'Tube on fire

with its use of "ug-fluencers".

Hey, guys. Get ready
for bed with me

as I dab on my Escarbro
Mansturizering Serum for Men.

I have been super self-conscious
about my hyperpigmentation

ever since Escarbro online as
explained what it was

and that I should be
super self-conscious about i.

But now...

Damn, Homer!

You make sure you subscribe
so you never run out.

I'm using Escarbro Macho Time
Puffiness Pulverizer.

- Dab, dab, dab. Dab, dab, dab.
- Dab, dab, dab. Dab, dab, dab.

Dab, dab, dab. Dab, dab, dab.

Trust me,
youse got to subscribe.

With this goo, open casket
is actually an option over here.

Dab, dab, dab. Dab, dab, dab. Dab, dab, dab. Dab, dab, dab.

If I was a marketing paradigm,
I'd be like,

"Stop shifting me, bro."
You know? So grateful.

How are you keeping up
with all this demand?

Well, to keep the slime oozing,
we scoured the globe

to find the world's
leading snail handlers.

Oh, I see, Claudia.

I bring the romaine, and
suddenly we're friends again.

Now, that's a return
on investment. -

Amazing turnout.

Oh, yes, it's a real him's him

of direct-to-masculine-customer
giants.

Waylon, meet Vijay
from Vijay's ButtPants.

Antoine, who dominates
the goat colostrum

protein frozen yogurt space.

No proven downside.

And Dirk Denchley,

the CEO of Father D's
High-T Testosterone Tea Bags.

Gary, your website
has the hardest-to-find

"cancel subscription" button
in the business. Brilliant, bro.

Oh? Well,
that wasn't intentional.

Come on, dude.
Our whole business model

is people signing up
for subscriptions

that they forgot to cancel.

It seems a bit underhanded.
A-Although, uh...

A toast to the suckers.

May they never check
their credit card statements.

Yeah, um, salut.

It's so weird having
a super-rich dad

who people think is cool.

It's also weird having
a juice bar in your living room,

but, uh...
great idea, honey. Great.

I was kidding, but whatever.

You know, my friends can't get
enough of your anti-aging goo.

Wait a minute, high school kids
are using Escarbro?

Oh, God, yeah. Everyone wants
to have kindergarten skin.

Yeah, but we-we weren't
marketing to kids. I...

Well, I guess
there's no harm, right?

Can I have a new pony?
This one pooped.

Uh, of course, sweetie.

Ugh, dappled? Fine.

Welcome back, sir.
The children are gonna love

hearing about your journey
to financial success, and, uh,

might I say, your beard
has grown in remarkably dark.

Oh, I use an adaptogen
matcha spore powder.

You know,
I spent so much of my life

in public education,

but I never felt
I was doing good in the world

until I started selling
creams for men.

Plus, even as a janitor

I made more money
than as a superintendent.

Are you saying there's
an open janitor position?

Sorry I'm late. I had to charge
my light therapy mask.

What a unique child.

These days, not so unique.

Dab, dab, dab.

Oh, no, I look 12!

Make with the hydrating
toner spray, now!

Just don't forget
your décolletage.

I had no idea our industry
reached children this young.

How can they focus on learning

while they're worrying
about all this?

Hey, Escarbro guy.

Ga-ry.

God.

Can I have a free sample?

Do you have a promo code?

Make my name a promo code.

Promo code Devin
exclamation point.

Yeah, we want the code.

Whew.

Dab, dab, dab. Dab, dab, dab.

Greetings.

Good lord.

Um... would you excuse me
for just one moment?

I-I-I have to do something.
Pardon me.

The phone-banning guy
can't get off his phone. Ironic.

Hey, that is irony.
Very accurate heckling, Bart.

- Thank you. I love you.
- What?

Nothing.

Now, I've always believed
that everyone should be able

to look in the mirror
and be proud

of the person
looking back at them.

And right now,
as I look at myself in the...

reflection of your
smooth, poreless,

vigorously moisturized
little faces,

I am not proud.

I look ridiculous.

You all, all of you,
look ridiculous.

Sir, sir, I'm on
the hiring web page.

It wants me to attach
my résumé as a PDF,

but I only have it as a JPEG.

When I was a public servant,
it was my job to educate you,

but also to protect you.

Protect you from people like me.

Social media swindlers
who profit off of insecurities

that you shouldn't even
have yet, or ever.

Oh, who am I kidding?
I am a superintendent,

whether I like it or not.

And as of right now,

I am banning all skincare
products from school grounds.

You can't do that. You don't work here anymore.

Well, as a matter of fact,
I can and I do.

I just bought Springfield
Elementary at auction

in the section
for "VCRs and public schools."

Teachers,
get those phone pouches

back out here and fill them

with all of that
preposterous skin-care.

Thanks for waiting for me,
old friend.

Why, on a competition
baking show,

do they need to have
an opening sketch?

Just get to the "and bake."

You think the crew
gets to eat all the cakes

they drop on the ground?

Dad, are we poor again?

Now, don't worry, honey,

I still have a small stake
in the skincare company,

and those nuclear snails,

they're never
gonna stop sliming.

I heard it was someone's
special day.

Fergus, get over here.

Birthday treats for everyone.

Salty potato chips
and buckets of beer.

Aw, they like it so much,
they're shaking with joy.

More like shriveling.

Maybe too much shriveling?

Uh, let's call it a day.

Seymour, you got this, right?

I hope they at least
let me keep the coveralls.

Captioning sponsored by
20th CENTURY FOX TELEVISION

and FOX BROADCASTING COMPANY

and TOYOTA.

Captioned by
Media Access Group at WGBH access.wgbh.org

Ooh.

Whoever invented eating
crumb cake in a trash can

was a genius.

Wait a minute.

I think I invented eating
crumb cake in a trash can.

I'm gonna be rich!

And then I'm gonna buy
so many trash cans!

♪ Eating crumb cake
in a trash can ♪

♪ Spraying crumbs around ♪

♪ Because I'm in a trash can ♪

♪ No crumbs are on the ground ♪

♪ Don't need a broom
or a dustpan ♪

♪ Something, something,
trash can! ♪

Shh!