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CHORUS: ♪ The Simpsons ♪
(bell ringing)
(whistle blowing)
(beeping)
(playing the blues)
(honking horn)
D'oh!
-(screams) -(tires screeching)
Hmm.
-(chewing loudly) -MARGE: Hmm.
(chuckling) So I said to that nurse,
"You can take your free tetanus shot and shove it."
Well, you told her, Dad.
You better... believe I did.
(grunts)
Ahh! Ohh.
You still haven't told us why Lenny bit you.
Well, I really gave him no choice, you see.
Lousy, meat-eating scum.
-(all gasping) -BART: Huh?
Not you.
(chewing loudly)
I'm going over to protest this disgusting new restaurant
called The Slaughterhouse.
It's decorated with hanging steer carcasses
and a fountain of blood.
Oh, I heard about that place on The Red Grocer.
The worst part is, you pick out your own cow
and they kill it right in front of you.
Well, maybe the animals don't mind, honey.
They might enjoy being the center of attention.
I think I read somewhere that cows like being killed.
Wait. There's a place like that in Springfield?
Then why are we eating this crap?
(grunts)
Come on, everybody.
We're going to The Slaughterhouse.
You didn't need to knock the food on the floor.
Didn't I?
(cows mooing)
Wow, it's even more wonderful
than Lisa said.
Oh, whoa,
a complimentary basket of hooves.
Hmm. Beef salad, beef on the cob,
beef-fried beef.
Is there anything on the menu that isn't meat?
Ha. Not likely.
Cool. Even this menu is made of meat.
It's an entire chicken pounded flat.
How clever.
The kids' menu's on the beak.
Hmm. I think I'll take...
oh, that one.
-(gunshot) -(cow mooing)
No, he's a bit listless, isn't he?
Give me... Oh, that spirited fellow.
-(gunshot) -(cow mooing)
Ooh. He didn't put up much of a fight.
Why don't you pick one for me?
-(gunshot) -(cow mooing)
On second thought,
I'll just have a glass of milk.
From that cow.
(surprised)
-(gunshot) -(cow mooing)
HOMER: Wait a minute. Is this the biggest steak you've got?
Seventy-two ounces?
I thought this was supposed to be a steak house,
not a little girlie, underpantsy,
pink doily, tea-party place.
Well, there is one steak
that's only available by special request.
Uh. We call it, uh, sir loin-a-lot.
It's, uh, the size of a boogie board.
Ooh, I'll have that one.
And to drink... meatballs.
Very good, sir.
(ringing)
Ladies and gentlemen,
this brave man has accepted the sir loin-a-lot challenge.
He will pit his stomach against 16 pounds
of indomitable tenderloin.
(applause)
They like me because I'm brave.
Only two people have ever finished the whole thing.
(people gasping)
Uh, if you want some friendly advice, pal,
I wouldn't tackle the big one right away.
Oh, yeah? What do you know about it?
(cows mooing)
Hmm.
It's you!
You're him. You're Tony Randall.
Heh. Red Barclay's my name.
I'm a trucker and I've eaten steaks from coast to coast
with taters and toast.
Take my advice,
this one's not for greenhorns.
Greenhorns?
Who's a greenhorn?
What's a greenhorn?
It's an insult. Sock him, Dad. Sock everybody.
Oh, you're just jealous 'cause you don't have
the belly for it anymore, Mr. No-belly.
Mr. Hasn't-got-a-belly.
Well, I have just finished a whole lamb,
but, uh, I reckon I could take you to school.
You're on, boy.
(grunts)
(shuddering)
Is it safe to eat that much food, Dr. Hibbert?
You know, I wouldn't have thought so
before I bought 12% of this restaurant,
but now I feel a balanced diet can include
the occasional eating contest.
But what if he chokes?
Oh-ho-ho-ho ! Not to worry.
We have the latest Heimlich machine.
(gagging)
(gasps)
(grunts)
On your left,
the pride of the American trucking industry,
reliable Red Barclay.
(applause, cheers)
And on your right, Homer somebody.
-Go, Dad! Go, go, go! -Yeah! Come on, Homie!
Gluttons to your marks,
-and Gorge! -(inhaling)
(chanting) Chew! Chew! Chew!
Chew! Chew! Chew!
(humming)
No, Homer! Don't fill up on bread!
Huh? Oh, right. The steak.
(smacking)
Come on, Dad, pick up the pace.
Chew and swallow. No savoring.
Must eat beef.
Must defeat guy I just met.
(smacking)
So much steak.
Lungs filling.
Sinuses packed with meat.
Oh, come on, Dad, just 12 more pounds.
(groans)
Oh, humans are so ridiculous.
He's not even halfway through Walter,
and he's already hallucinating.
(both chuckling)
Lousy drunks!
I'll show them!
(groans)
(continues to groan)
What's happening to me?
There's still food, but I don't want to eat it.
I've become everything I've ever hated.
(weeping)
-(satisfied grunt) -(applause, cheers)
Winner and still champion,
reliable Red Barclay.
(applause, cheers)
My hat's off to you, Red.
You're a true American hero
and you did it with style and dignity.
and, hey, you're not breathing.
Don't people usually breathe?
-This man is dead. -(people gasping)
Looks to me like beef poisoning.
(concerned murmuring)
Probably from some other restaurant.
(relieved murmuring)
(grunting)
You'd better take one of these, too.
He's eaten quite a lot.
(tires squealing)
There goes the finest trucker who ever lived.
He called me greenhorn.
I called him Tony Randall.
It was this thing we had.
In 38 years, he never missed a shipment.
But I guess this is one delivery old Red won't be making.
Oh, yes, he will.
And on time, too.
Oh, no. Homer, no.
I've got to, honey.
I owe it to old Red
as both his friend and his killer.
I want to go with you, Dad.
Don't you have school?
-Don't you have work? -Ah, touché.
Bye, Marge.
(tires screeching)
Aren't you going to say bye?
Good-bye, Homer.
That didn't sound like you meant it.
Oh, all right. Good-bye, sweetheart.
Have a nice trip.
That's more like it.
So long, suckers!
(laughing)
(honking horn)
(stuttering)
( Homer grunting )
HOMER: Why you got to...
(grunting) Come on.
(grunting)
Ah. Now I'm getting the hang of this thing.
I don't know why I didn't become a trucker before.
Well, you're not really a trucker now.
Oh, yeah?
My left arm says different.
Well, according to Red's schedule,
we have to make it to Atlanta in three days.
Piece of cake.
Just need a little truck-driving music.
(music playing) ♪ If you want to be my lover ♪
♪ You got to get with my friends ♪
♪ Make it last forever ♪
Yeah.
The open road.
Ahh, that little punk.
I'll teach him some manners.
-(screams) -No, Dad,
he wants you to blow your horn.
Oh.
That little punk!
Lisa, we got another postcard from your father.
"Wish you were her."
How many of these is he going to send me?
Wow, Dad and Bart have been everywhere.
They've eaten submarine sandwiches,
grinders, and hoagies.
It's not fair.
Your father always gets to have such exciting adventures.
Maybe it's time
we took a walk on the wild side.
We're buying a new doorbell?
A musical doorbell.
(creaking)
So many doorbells!
I'm in way over my head.
(Nelson humming)
(bell ringing)
(laughs)
(grunting)
Oh...
Great. Look at my shoes
and today's my evaluation with senor ding-dong.
Excuse me, Mr... Trainee.
I'm trying to find a musical doorbell.
(laughing) Well, you came to the right place.
We got your ding-dang-dongs
and your do-re-mis
and your, uh, ha-cha-chas, huh?
(laughing)
(humming)
I'm trying to find a particular tune.
It's the one that goes like...
(tuneless humming)
Mom, is this the one you want?
(music playing "Close to You")
Yes, that's it!
Lisa, you ought to be a doorbell salesman.
Oh, that's just what I need,
another piranha in the tank.
(music playing) ♪ Well, if it's country music ♪
♪ Or rock and roll ♪
A little more high test, darlin'?
Sure thing, Gwen.
I'll be right back with your pie, hon.
Ah, that's a nice, friendly gal.
-Yeah. -Wouldn't it be great
to live right here at the truck stop?
Watching all the people come and go.
You could have a different best friend every day.
I suppose.
Great. Now write your mother
and tell her the marriage is off
and then when the paperwork is done,
I'll make Gwen my wife.
Will that be all, sweetie?
For now.
The light's on.
All systems are ding-dong.
Come on, Mom. Let's take it for a test drive.
Oh, it's not a toy, Lisa.
We'll just have to wait until someone comes.
Anyone? Anyone at all?
Oh! Milhouse is selling seeds and he's coming this way...
Oh, the birds got him.
(screaming)
Not the face!
If your father was here, there'd be process servers,
repo men, and bounty hunters to beat the band.
Wait! People are coming!
I think they're Jehovah's witnesses!
Yes!
Wait, Marlon. You know, I just had a thought.
Maybe we're bothering people
by trying to change their religion.
What if we don't have all the answers?
You're right, Noreen.
Let's go get real jobs.
(grumbling) I would have feigned interest.
(grunts)
Still no visitors.
It's time we opened up a can of whup-tushy on this situation.
What's the number for Luigi's?
Dad's got it on the speed dial under "fire."
(tires screech)
This is it, honey.
We did it.
-Damn it! -(sighs)
MARGE: Ring the bell!
Why? You already know I'm here, don't you?
MARGE: Just do it.
Nothing doing, missy.
Now, do you want your half-order of garlic bread or not?
No, but if you'll just ring the...
-(tires screeching) -Hmm.
Oh, that's it. I'm putting an end to this.
Lisa, no, no, don't! It won't be the...
-(music playing "Close to You") -(gasps) Oh...
It's heavenly.
♪ Why do birds suddenly appear ♪
♪ Over there ♪
♪ Over here ♪
Why is it playing over again?
Who cares?
No one could ever get sick of this song.
♪ Suddenly appear ♪
(crackling)
MAN: Hey, get that truck out of here.
(chewing loudly)
WOMAN: You mean, it ate Patrick, too?
It ate everybody.
What about Erika?
-BOTH: It ate everybody! - It ate everybody!
Stupid!
I bet old Red caught himself
a mess of catfish with these fishing sticks.
Uh-huh. Bet he used bait, too.
Relax, boy. We're ahead of schedule.
Actually, we have to go 2,200 miles in ten hours.
Ten hours? We got to roll!
Uh, yeah, I need something
that'll keep me awake, alert, and reckless
all night long.
Well, congress is racing back to Washington
-to outlaw these. -Sold!
Hey, you can't take that many pep pills at once.
No problem. I'll balance it out
with a bottle of sleeping pills.
(giggles)
OK, we're all set. Let's put the pedal to the metal!
(tires screeching)
I wholeheartedly agree.
Oh, man, I'm really wired. This is a big mistake.
I can... Oh...
Here comes the sleeping pills.
So drowsy.
Pep pills perking up again.
I could drive all...
night.
(snoring)
(signal bell dinging)
(brakes squealing)
(bell dings)
(snoring)
(screaming)
I fell asleep at the wheel!
(whimpers)
But we didn't crash.
(gasps) It's a miracle.
You'll never believe what happened.
I fell asleep at the wheel
and the truck drove here by itself.
Yeah, that Navitron Auto-Drive system's
made our jobs cushier than ever. (chuckles)
-The what, now? -You know, this thing.
With this baby driving your truck for you,
all you got to do is sit back and feel your ass grow.
The trucks drive themselves?
Shh... Hey, hey, hey, shh...
Didn't your union rep tell you about the scam we got going?
Oh, I'm not really a trucker,
so I don't talk to the rep that often.
All right, listen, pal, here's the deal,
you stumbled on a secret
that only truck drivers are supposed to know.
(laughing)
Hey, pay attention
and stop looking at that squirrel.
(chattering)
We get 40 bucks an hour to drive these rigs.
You think anybody'd hire us
if they knew we weren't really driving the trucks?
Wow!
You guys are even lazier than me!
Well, don't worry.
I'll keep your secret.
See that you do.
Hey, Bart, watch me run down this old lady.
Dad, no!
-(tires screeching) -(grunts)
(beeping)
(screaming)
(laughing)
The second I let go of the wheel,
this little wonder kicks in.
And if scaring old ladies
don't float your boat, watch this.
(grunting)
Come on out, boy!
It's windy!
Wow, you're right, Dad!
It is windy!
Hey, look, nobody's driving!
-Well, will wonders never cease? -What's that?
Relax, everybody.
The Navitron Auto-Drive system
is driving the truck for me.
But keep it a secret.
It's a big scam, OK?
What the hell?
Breaker, breaker,
looks like we got us a 10-38.
MAN: Uh, 10-38.
Uh, let's see.
Uh, "Outsider blabbing about auto-drive system."
Well, we'll have to teach our friend some discretion.
Yeah, just like we did to Jimmy Hoffa.
-(chuckles) -Hey, shut up!
Calling all big rigs.
Motormouth on highway seven.
You know what to do.
-10-4. -MAN: That's a big 10-4.
-(music playing "Close to You") -Mom, I need to get some sleep.
I have a test tomorrow in birds suddenly appear.
I mean, English.
OK, OK, let me just get the wire cutters.
Oh...
Your father traded our tools for M&M's again.
Oh, the heck with it. (grunts)
(music playing faster)
(dogs howling)
(howling continues)
Look, son.
It's one of nature's most beautiful sights,
the convoy.
(engine revving)
He hit us.
Oh, I should've known.
They're hazing us
to initiate us into the truckers' fraternity.
-(crash) -Thank you, sir.
May I have another?
(crash)
Dad, they're trying to kill us.
Oh, why do all my trips end like this?
Eat water, good buddy.
(screaming)
Whoa, look at him roll!
(grunting)
Oh, my good knife!
My wife's going to kill me.
HOMER: I think we lost 'em, Bart.
Dad, stop!
(tires squealing)
HOMER: Uh-oh.
Well, well, well.
Looks like we got ourselves
a showdown, boy.
-All right. -What are you doing?
I'm keeping a promise to an American roadmaster.
-Huh? -Red.
The trucker.
Big fat guy, couldn't handle his steak?
-Oh, yeah. -We'll get past
that barrier somehow.
Ol' Blinky here will find a way.
AUTOMATED VOICE: I'm afraid I can't let you do this, Red.
The risk is unacceptable.
I'm not Red. I'm Homer.
-AUTOMATED VOICE: Got to go. -Uh-oh
(screams)
Dad, do something.
Something better!
-(tires screeching) -(Homer grunting)
(both screaming)
Woo-hoo!
Now that man is a genuine
steel-belted, gear-jamming rig jockey.
-That's a fact. -Boy howdy!
-Boy, you can say that again. -Yeah.
You know, boys, I've been thinking.
Maybe it's time we ditched the high-tech gizmos
and went back to driving like our daddies did.
-Drunk? -No! N-no.
Using our hands and our wits.
Yeah, sure, it's hard work and it's lonely as hell,
but it has meaning and dignity.
Huh? What do you say?
Nah. Let's just find some other scam.
Hey, how about bootlegging beanie babies?
-Sounds good to me. -Oh, I like that.
Yep, you're going to make it, Dad.
And somewhere up there, I bet Red is saying "thanks."
10-4, dead buddy.
This is Red Barclay's shipment,
on time, as always.
All right, let's see.
Artichokes
and migrant workers.
Looking good.
So, where is old Red, anyway?
Well, the last time I saw him,
he was in a big plastic bag.
(laughs)
Yeah, that sounds like Red, all right.
Well, son, I guess it's time to go home.
Any thoughts on how we're going to get there?
No, but I'm sure the good lord will provide.
Are you crazy?
I'm not driving a trainload of napalm to Springfield!
Thank you.
-(music playing "Close to You") -(crowd shouting angrily)
I'm really sorry, everybody,
but I've tried everything.
I'm afraid we're just going
to have to learn to live with it.
No, no, no, no dice!
All right, Chimey,
this time, the bell tolls for thee.
-Huh? -(crowd gasping)
Ay-yi-yi! Senor ding-dong!
I thought you were just a marketing gimmick.
There was a time when that was true,
but now, I am so much more.
-(music stops) -(crowd cheering)
Hmm... Oh, my.
(in Spanish) Gracias, senor.
De nada!
(in English) If you ever need me,
just ring.
(grunts)
(starter chugging)
Does anyone have any jumper cables?
(starter chugging)
Oh, you stinking Chevy!
-(murmuring) -Shh!
Captioned by Visual Data Media Services
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