Original subtitles

Children, you've been extra good,

so you've earned a very special field trip.

Get ready for the best day of your lives at the Waterpark…

…Museum of Late Victorian Textiles.

I saw the word "waterpark" and got too excited to read the rest.

The entrance hall carpet is a reproduction of an original

that Mr. Waterpark saw on a trip to Utrecht.

Any guesses as to its ornamentation?

Anyone?

Wilton. It's a Wilton pattern.

You're the first person that's ever gotten that.

And a docent never forgets her first.

Ew.

Kids, you've seen the foyer.

Now let's visit the demi-foyer.

Well, there's only one cure for this type of boredom.

A Gilded Age home invasion.

Nope. Nope.

Nope.

Ugh. There's gotta be something fun in this dust dungeon.

Hmm?

Whoa.

Something.

Don't be afraid to feel the perforations on this Edwardian sable felt.

I'm not afraid.

Psst.

Something.

I'm making it snow over the lighthouse in St. Augustine.

Snow globe fight!

Hmm, this brocade.

I've never felt such a luxurious warp.

Twiddle the weft.

Eat globe!

My charges.

This horseplay stops now.

Globes down.

- Heads-up. - Raise my head?

Heard and understood.

Oh, these past weeks have been difficult.

Five eyeball surgeries. Two lid grafts.

Now I have rods, but no cones.

But I have a purpose.

Even though it's the last day before spring break, I had to come back

so I could say the words every principal dreams of saying.

You are garbage parents.

Garbage parents?

Even me?

Yes, both of you spawned that snow-globe-hurling monster.

He said, "Heads-up."

And I raised my head accordingly.

Please, Principal Skinner.

Bart's not a bad kid.

If only you could see my special little guy the way I do.

Come on, Marge. Bart's the devil, and you know it.

Anyway, it's your fault for taking an amped-up psycho like that

to a water park.

It wasn't a water park.

Oh, I didn't read past the first word on the permission slip.

All you parents are the same.

Take credit when your kids succeed and make excuses when they fail.

It's disgusting.

It's because of parents like you that…

…I hate children!

Disregard. Have a nice spring break.

Mother, I'm home.

Dear Seymour,

I'm sorry I didn't visit you in the hospital.

Oh. No mother wants to see her son…

period.

I'm going to Atlantic City with Jasper.

It'll be a month of nonstop poker,

and we might get some card playing in too.

Wink, wink.

Ha!

Must be nice to be able to wink.

Just as well.

I have a whole spring break to do what I wanna do.

Ah. Textbook requisition forms and room temperature Mr. Pibb.

This is the high life.

Who goes there?

That's no who.

It's a what.

Go away. I'm about to score with my wife.

But there's a creature loose in the school.

Why didn't you say so, man?

Our Scottish Scrabble game can wait.

Now go kill a frightened, defenseless animal

that stumbled into the world of man.

The creature.

I'm a ghost of a kid who died long ago

when kids used to die all the time.

A specter!

Those weren't dog bones I found in the sandbox!

You're no apparition. You've been living in my library.

Living in a library?

That's sick, man. How can you say that to a little kid?

Now get off my lawn.

A student holing up in the school.

How can I live this down?

A blemish like this on my permanent record.

What the hell is coming out of your eyes, you freak?

It's whimsical snow.

I recognize you. Your name is Hub.

You're a student here.

This blatant infraction is going directly into your file.

Well, good luck with that, sparkle tears. I'm not in there.

You're not enrolled? But I've seen you.

You're in Ms. Peyton's class.

One of those kids that sits in the back

between Eyeglasses Girl and Bucktooth Boy and never speaks.

Good Lord. You've been pretending to be a student

so you could live at the school.

So you could live at the school.

Live at the school.

…school.

Where are your parents?

Where are your parents?

My mother's with Jasper,

and my father's ashes are in a bag in the upstairs sewing room.

Now come clean.

Seymour, what the devil is going on?

Look out! It's your pimp.

He's not my pimp.

I've got this, sir. I'm calling Child Services.

You do, and I will cut you like a bitch.

If the state learns a runaway child has been squatting here,

they'll turn this school into a Spirit Halloween store, okay?

You keep this child under your supervision

until you locate his family and return him to them.

I'm going back to bed.

The next time I see you, you better have my money…

requisition forms for next year's textbooks.

You can tell he really values you.

Don't get comfortable. You're only here till I find your parents.

Look, Principal Skinner, you're not going to find them. They're dead.

Oh, my Lord. I'm so sorry.

It was horrible.

Their hot-air balloon drifted over

North Korea on Kim Jong-Un's birthday

and was hit by a celebratory ICBM.

Outright fibbery!

Oh, my God. You are so dumb.

How did you live this long?

You don't give me respect, then you don't get any.

You are not leaving Mother's sewing room until…

Give me strength, Papa.

Get back in here.

Aw. But I was gonna go out and find America.

This was fun, but I gotta go. You've been a great host.

Five stars.

It's time to swallow my pride and ask for help.

Marge, a man is here.

Principal Skinner?

Did you come to yell at us again?

Mr. and Mrs. Simpson.

I come to you hat in hand.

I've never had to deal with a child

outside the hours of 8:10 to 2:45.

I need your advice. How do I handle this handful?

You're asking us? The garbage parents?

But we spawned a monster.

One day with a kid, and he's already broken.

And now he needs our help.

Please. I'm desperate.

Oh, my God. Oh, that's so sweet.

Okay, okay. Where's the kid now?

In my house. I hired Nelson to sit.

I'm cold. Can you turn the heat up?

You're the client.

Please. I'm at my wits' end. I need your help with Hub.

Okay, because you begged nicely,

we'll share a couple of nuggets of parental wisdom.

Sometimes, challenging kids just wanna be recognized.

Find what the little miracle is interested in and encourage it.

Be a hard-ass. Every day should be like his first day in prison,

and he's all alone in the yard without a shiv.

Flood him with hugs.

Crush his spirit.

Give him a shoulder to cry on.

Quit your crying!

Tell him he's loved.

- Tell him he's lucky to be alive. - Nourish his creativity.

Lock him in a dog crate.

Good Lord. Someone could slip on this watery plastic.

Or worse, slide.

Wet orphan coming through.

Whoa, whoa!

Whoa, whoa!

Oh. Uh-oh. We meet again, Darth Tedious.

Give this kid a break. His parents died on the Titanic.

Good afternoon, Seymour.

Here for your usual?

Oh, no, thank you, Phillip.

We need to get this ragamuffin some respectable schoolboy clothes.

Hmm. Perhaps a poplin pullover and corduroy perma-crease slacks.

♪ The world's most boring loser Is making me dress just like him ♪

♪ His house smells like old lady pee ♪

♪ But he's so used to the smell That he can't smell it ♪

Will you get on with it?

By Doug Henning's mustache. He's escaped.

Hub!

There you are.

- Come out of there right now. - Make me.

My greasy fingers won't let me…

There's no lifeguard. Hang on, boy.

You saved me.

All I've done is say mean stuff to you, run away

and scratch up all your records where dogs bark Christmas carols.

It's fine. Those dogs are long dead anyway.

It's not like I can go see them in concert again.

But of course I saved you. You were in danger.

Thanks, Seymour.

In all my years as a principal, I've… I've never been hugged.

I feel like I'm floating on air.

Well, that's marvelous. You're very talented.

Look out, Perry Como.

Oh. I like how you know people I've never heard of.

Ah, spoken like a young Mort Sahl.

Well, so ends the first spring break where I actually had fun.

Well, I suppose I must resume the hunt for your parents.

Oh, well, good luck with that.

They were on a Japanese game show

and they drowned in a giant toilet full of salmon roe.

You and your fantastical falsehoods.

Well, catch you later. Time to lone-wolf it again.

Returning to the background.

Nourish his creativity.

Nope. No talent. Tone deaf.

Dance, ten. Looks, three. Ooh, Principal Skinner.

Dewey, you've got one more auditionee.

I don't wanna be in some stupid bunny musical.

I thought we were cool. I went to see Laser Beethoven with you.

The weird smoke there made me fall asleep. Don't make me do this.

Be a hard-ass. Make him do it.

If you don't, I will.

I'm not giving you the choice.

You're a talented kid with untapped potential.

Now get up there and audition.

Why did I make Hub audition?

He's probably dying of embarrassment in there.

Seymour, you're a fool.

You have a master's degree in education,

but the parenting skills of a basketball.

- I'm sorry, Hub. - Okay, I tried out like you said.

They hated me.

For being so awesome.

I'm playing Farmer McGregor. I'm in three scenes.

One with Peter Rabbit.

Aw!

I did it. I'm parenting, and I'm good at it.

How do you like me now, Spalding Dirk Nowitzki autograph special?

Okay, daffodils, daffodils. Spring has sprung.

Peter Rabbit comes out.

And cue Farmer McGregor.

Who's been eating my carrots?

Exit McGregor.

Peter Rabbit launches into his big number,

"I've Been Eating the Carrots."

That's it? That's all you got for Hub?

It's not all.

He sweeps up the bandannas after the hoedown scene.

Dewey, I'm starting to think you lack the vision

to make these characters come to life.

And you could do better? Fine. Here's the headset.

You want it? Take it, take it. Just... Just take it.

Well, cast, um, who's ready to go on a ride with me

as we explore the depths of our new protagonist,

Farmer McGregor?

Okay, so, the thing you guys don't get about Farmer McGregor

is he's the best actor in the world,

and you're just a bunch of dumb animals.

Now, let's have fun with this.

What the hell is this?

Farmer McGregor only has three lines

and two of them are, "Here comes Peter Rabbit." Me.

We're gonna fix that.

Lisa Simpson, I need a rewrite by third period tomorrow.

Beef up the McGregor character. Explore his inner world.

Give Hub something worthy of his talents.

Fix the script.

I get to be every eight-year-old girl's hero:

Steven Zaillian.

Milhouse is a joy to have in the room.

He just needs to stop practicing

his kissing on female lunch box images.

You hear that, Luann? Female.

These thin-skinned parents unable to handle the slightest feedback

about their perfect children. Who's next?

That would be Hub,

but his parents didn't sign up for the conference, so…

I'll stand in for them.

Okay, well, I... I can get to Hub's strengths in a sec,

but I'll start with some of his stretches.

Well, that won't take long.

Yes, he used to be so quiet and unassuming,

but now that he's starring in the play,

he's become a bit of a show-off.

You're fired.

But I… No, no, I... I'm merely pointing out that Hub...

Is coming into his own.

He's talented. He's a supernova.

What are you? A fourth-grade teacher in a failing school?

And this boy is an orphan.

His parents both had Benjamin Button disease

and died as 85-year-old babies.

Hmm. That's another thing.

Hub has a tendency to…

lie.

He's an actor.

Actors lie for a living. That's their art.

Don't you dare say another harsh word about my…

- Hub. - Seymour, you are his principal,

not his father.

Of course. You're right.

You've given me a lot to think about.

Excellent, Willie. Forty down, 360 to go.

Ooh. Look who's coming to town. Hub.

Well, this is your big night.

They're all here to see you.

And I'm ready to bring the thunder.

Look out, theatergoers, here comes…

Holy crud.

Butterflies, eh?

From Brando to Balki, all the great ones get 'em.

Break a leg, son.

Peter Rabbit is dead.

Who will save the farm?

McGregor. McGregor.

That's your cue, Olivier.

Hub!

The adoption.

I spooked him.

Hub, wait. Come back.

Dad!

He called me Dad. He wants me to adopt him.

Son, you just made me the happiest…

What are you doing here?

We're your parents. That's what.

Ha-ha! You thought he was running to you.

Your mother dances for coupons,

and your father has a second family he loves more than you.

How did you find me?

Your face is on every light pole from here to Ogdenville.

I… I don't understand.

We don't either.

You've got some explaining to do, Alexander Hubley.

Mom and Dad dumped me at boarding school

with a bunch of other snooty jerks

with rich parents who don't give a crap.

I couldn't take it, so I bailed and came to Springfield.

I liked it here.

And now we've found you.

Yeah, well, it only took you like five months.

We're sorry, son. Come on. Let's go home.

Uh, ladies and gentlemen, uh,

due to an administrator getting his heart broken into a million pieces,

we are canceling the play.

Yeah, I hear your cheers of disappointment,

but, unfortunately, we have lost our Farmer McGregor.

No, you haven't.

A farmer rises with the sun,

coaxing life out of the earth

and nourishing the beasts under his dominion.

But I wanna talk about one particular creature on my farm.

A wayward mouse who had been abandoned by his rich mouse parents

at an elite boarding farm.

Wait, I didn't write any of this mouse junk.

You didn't write anything. You just ran the room.

Picking good stuff is just as hard as creating good stuff.

The mouse ran away and hid in the barn,

blending in with the other animals,

afraid to call attention to himself.

Then, a kind old mouse found him.

He shared with him the cheese of encouragement.

And with that, the mouse spread his wings

and became a magnificent Mr. Pibb-drinking butterfly.

But now, the little mouse has to leave,

and he'll never forget the kind older mouse who believed in him,

allowing him to see more.

Your son is terrific.

- Thank you. - Thank you.

That's not my boy.

Okay, guys, let's focus.

Again, how does McGregor lose the farm at the end of the first act?

Anyone? Anything!

How about this?

McGregor comes home, house gone, rabbits everywhere,

and he says…

Don't start a sentence if you don't know where it's going!

Okay, guess what. Now we're staying late.

What do you guys want for dinner?

- Corn dogs! - Dino nuggets!

- Noodles with butter! - Tuna fish!

- Pepperoni! - Now you've got pitches?

- Synced and corrected by actumaxime - - www.addic7ed.com -