Original subtitles

CHORUS: ♪ The Simpsons ♪

(theme music playing)

(bell ringing)

(whistle blows)

(beeping)

(playing the blues)

(tires sreeching)

(honking horn)

D'oh! (screams)

(tires screeching)

Whoo-hoo!

♪ You put the beer in the coconut and drink it all up ♪

♪ You put the beer in the coconut ♪

♪ And throw the can away... ♪

Homer!

♪ You throw the can away... ♪

I said, "Homer!"

♪ You throw the can away ♪

Marge, I'm out of beer.

You know, Homie, a lot of men use their Saturdays

to do things around the house. Hint, hint.

But, Marge, I'm not like other men.

That's why you buy my pants at that special store.

I'm serious. You never finished painting the garage...

And you could at least get that snake out of the piano.

-(playing dance hall tune) -(snake hissing)

Fine. I'll drop everything I'm doing just for you.

But you'll have to live with the guilt of ruining my Saturday.

Can you live with that, Marge?

Huh? Can you?

-Yup! -Can you?

Oh...

FLANDERS: God... bless him!

Excuse me, I have a few questions for Pop.

That's me.

You're Pop?

No offense, but even I could kick your ass.

Hey, get off my case.

The only reason I'm working here is

'cause I'm trying to get a date with Mom.

Look, Pop, I'm planning some expert home repairs

and I need a pair of bolt cutters or wire cutters,

or something to get the lock off my toolbox.

Aisle one, next to the cat poison.

Edna, look. A dimmer switch could ratchet up the romance

in our love nest.

You mean the janitor's closet? Ha!

(sighs) What's the matter, Edna?

Lately you just say "ha" to everything.

I want a baby... now.

Why don't we continue this in Pool Supplies?

Hi, I'm Doug Vaccaro.

You know me as Chip,

the wisecracking assistant

on the hit sitcom Toolin' Around.

(snickering) A man in an apron. (guffawing)

But today, I'm here as a "tool" of Global Dynamics Corp.

You know, installing your own barbecue pit is no harder

than adding an aviary or Olympic-sized swimming pool.

In fact, it's a snap.

Or if you're not into chicken...

No, no! I'm into chicken!

How about wild boar,

or swordfish,

or hippo?

Mmm... Hippo.

(gurgling)

ANNOUNCER: Light-hearted apron not included.

Snapping fingers may not make food appear.

How about it, Bart?

Would you like a new backyard barbecue pit?

Can I burn evidence in it?

We can all burn evidence in it.

There. That wasn't so hard, was it, honey?

Dad, I really need to rest my back.

OK, sweetie. Daddy'll take over.

Oh, yeah. That's a fine-looking...

-(contents breaking) -D'oh!

OK, no big deal.

(straining)

(shrieks) Stupid Lisa!

(whimpering) I got to build fast. Cement drying!

All right, let's see.

Oh... English side ruined.

Must use French instructions.

"Le grille"?

What the hell is that?

Aw, come here... Get... (grunts)

Come on, fit. You...

(mumbling)

Huh? (grunting)

(sighs)

Yeah, that's one fine-looking barbecue pit.

Why doesn't mine look like that?

(screaming)

Why? (grunts) Why?

Why must life be so hard?

Why must I fail in every attempt at masonry?

(screaming and sobbing)

How's your father's project coming along?

I think he's almost done.

(screaming)

Yeah, he's done.

(clears throat) I'd like to return this barbecue kit.

All returned items must be in a box

and accompanied by a receipt.

Well, if you'll follow the flashlight,

you'll see the receipt embedded here, and here,

and elements of the box here, here, and possibly here.

Sorry, I didn't get this hammer hat

by handing out refunds.

Oh!

(grunting) Come on.

Hold on, there, Santa Claus.

That box is for toys only.

Well, of course.

Any kid would love to have this,

uh, activity center.

It teaches them while they learn.

Yeah, nice try, Saint Nick.

Now, hit the road, Kris Kringle.

-But... but... -You heard me, "Pear" Noel.

(groans)

-What you got there? -Beanie Baby.

(wheels rattling)

I'll never get rid of it.

It'll follow me to the ends of the Earth.

(clanking and scraping)

All right! My bumper fell off!

-(scraping) -(honking and tires screeching)

Not my fault. Act of God. Act of God. (laughing)

Uh-oh.

Ah...

(tires screeching)

♪ Shaving my shoulders ♪

♪ I'm getting it all shaved off ♪

Homie, someone's at the door.

They want to talk to you about some sort of car accident.

Take the kids out back.

I'll handle this.

Mr. Simpson?

I believe something of yours struck my car yesterday.

Oh, yeah. Prove it.

That's your license plate, isn't it?

Uh...

(sobbing)

All right, just go ahead and sue me!

Everybody else does.

The average settlement is $68,000.

(chuckling) I'm not here to sue you.

My name is Astrid Weller.

I own an art gallery

and I'd love to display your piece.

You mean this hunk of junk? This isn't art.

It's just the barbecue that pushed me over the edge.

Didn't you? Didn't you?

You stupid... (screams)

Art isn't just pretty pictures.

It's an expression of raw human emotion.

In your case, rage.

Oh, I got that, lady.

Is everything OK?

I got worried when I didn't hear any shots.

This lady says I'm an artist.

You? An artist?

Your husband's work is what we call "outsider art."

It could be by a mental patient,

or a hillbilly, or a chimpanzee.

(gasps) In high school, I was voted

"Most likely to be a mental patient,

hillbilly, or chimpanzee."

Well, you should be very excited,

because outsider art couldn't be hotter.

So you'd better catch the fever.

Catch it.

(munching)

Dad, chew with your mouth closed.

You're losing your mystique.

Lisa, all great artists love free food.

Check out Jasper Johns.

You squeal on me, I'll kill you.

Mmm. I don't know.

I studied art for years, but I just don't get this.

Sounds like somebody's jealous.

No, I'm not.

I just can't believe some people

are paying hundreds of dollars

for something a hillbilly pulled out of the trash.

Hey, I done studied for years

on how to get over that junkyard fence.

Then I learnt the gate was open.

Smithers, I think I'm in love...

-(gasps) -...with this sculpture.

Sir, that's by Homer Simpson.

I don't think you want to buy it.

Smithers, years ago, I blew the chance

to buy Picasso's Guernica for a song.

Luckily, that song was "White Christmas."

And by hanging on to it, I made billions.

Anyway, I love this hideous thing.

Young lady, I'll take it.

Congratulations, Homer.

You're now a professional artist.

Whoo-hoo! Look, Marge, my first sale!

In your face Jasper Johns!

Huh?

(grunting)

Where are you going with that junk, Dad?

I'm going to be an outsider artist.

That way, I can turn all these old baseball cards,

Disney memorabilia and antiques into something valuable.

Homie, I'm really happy you sold your sculpture,

but don't you think it may have been a fluke?

Hey, I've always had an interest in art

dating back to my schoolgirl days,

when I painted portrait after portrait of Ringo Starr.

That's my life you're describing.

I think I remember my own life, Marge.

Astrid said the key to my art is anger, but you know me.

-I'm Mr. Mellow. -BOTH: Hmm?

So, I'm giving you kids permission to get me mad.

Come on. Gimme what you got.

Well, if it'll help, um...

Mom found out her engagement ring is made of rock candy.

(grunting) Good work, honey. Keep it coming.

Well, I'm flunking math, and the other day

I was a little attracted to Milhouse.

(yelling)

(screaming)

Moe, this is Astrid, my dealer.

And these are my fans, Gunter, Kyoto

and Cecil Hampstead-on-Cecil-Cecil.

So, uh, you guys are Eurotrash, huh?

How's that, uh, working out for you?

Eh, to be honest, we are adrift

in a sea of decadent luxury and meaningless sex.

Uh-huh. So, where might this sea be located? Hmm?

I must get back to my hotel

and practice my affectations for tomorrow.

[in French] Bon soir.

[in English] What do we owe you, Moe?

Nothing, nothing.

Just give me a priceless sketch

with a certificate of authenticity.

All right. (mumbling)

Hey, Moe, could I pay with a drawing?

Yeah, nice try, there, 12-step.

Aw!

Uh, Homer, you're making us a little bit uncomfortable.

Relax, big guy. He's just doing this for his art. Right, Homer?

Oh, yeah... art.

Why won't you be art? (grunts)

Here he is.

This is where the magic happens.

Wonderful news, Homer.

Is it about pies?

Uh, um, no.

We're going to hold a show devoted entirely to you.

Wow. It's like Marge's dream come true for me.

Isn't that great, Marge? For me.

(Marge groaning)

Look, Marge. They're advertising my show in Art in America.

It's the first time I've been mentioned there that I know of.

I'm happy for you. Now, good night.

Good night.

You're upset about something.

Is this about that trip Barney and I took

to Machu Picchu?

Now, Homer,

being an artist was my dream.

But now, without even trying,

you've accomplished more in a week

than I have in my whole life.

Aw, honey, I've always liked your art.

Your paintings look like the things they look like.

That's sweet, but...

How would you like it if I,

I don't know, entered a belching contest?

Frankly, I'd be a little turned on.

(sighs) You don't understand.

Marge, I've screwed up everything I've ever done.

I mean, look at Bart.

But I finally found something

where people worship me for screwing up,

and that feels pretty good.

I guess nothing else matters

as long as you're happy.

Now you're making sense. Good night.

(Homer snoring)

(indistinct chattering)

-Then I bought a Rembrandt. -(burps)

Homer is the most dangerous artist on the Springfield scene.

Now, let's see what surprises he has for us tonight.

(applause)

I give you "botched hibachi."

The tricycle's on loan from the Maggie Simpson collection.

This piece I call "failed shelving unit

with stupid, stuck chainsaw and applesauce."

And finally, my thing de resistance,

"attempted birdhouse one."

(cawing)

(appalled murmuring)

Shall we start the bidding at, say, $10,000?

(indistinct throat-clearing)

All right, how about a million?

I'll give you two bucks for the bird if it's still alive.

What's going on here?

You weirdos love this stuff.

Homer, I'm afraid they only love what's new and shocking.

These pieces are just like your earlier work.

You've gone from hip to boring.

Why don't you call us when you get to kitsch?

(strained laugh)

Come on, Gunter, Kyoto.

If we hurry, we can still catch the heroin craze. Mm.

Wait! Come back! I'm a God to you!

Worship me

or fear my wrath!

Oh, please, fear my wrath!

Please!

Call me.

I don't get it.

Why don't people like my art anymore?

Homer, I know you worked hard,

but all of your things were kind of the same.

Hey, Ray Jay Johnson never changed his act.

And he's more popular now than he's ever been.

Who?

♪ You can call him Ray ♪

♪ Or you can call him Jay ♪

♪ Or you can call him Ray-Jay ♪

♪ But you doesn't have to... ♪

I'm sick of him already.

The point is, great artists are always trying new things.

Like Michelangelo, or Shaquille O'Neal.

You just need some inspiration.

It's so exciting to do something cultural together.

Matt Groening? What's he doing in a museum?

He can barely draw.

Ow! Oh, no! I'm being erased!

Move it, bub. We got an installation to installate.

Mm, a Claes Oldenburg.

He's a European who defied convention

and embraced American popular culture.

(whistles)

He must be 100 feet tall.

Now this is a Joseph Turner.

In an era when everyone else painted portraits,

he broke away by painting the Venetian canals.

It's glorious. The streets are paved with water.

You could ride a walrus to work.

And Picasso started out painting realistically,

then moved on to cubism.

By the end of his life, he was just painting

crank letters to the editor.

they call it his "angry jerk" period.

(gurgling)

Mm... Split-pea.

(gasping) With ham!

Any ideas yet?

No. These guys are geniuses.

I could never think of something like soup or a pencil.

Oh!

I'm just going to rest for a minute.

(snoring)

(growling)

(sniffing)

What the... Who the... Hey!

(karate yell)

(yelping) You're mean.

(playing happy Spanish music)

-(guns cocking) -Hasta la vista, baby!

(machine gun firing)

(moaning)

Hmm? (groans) What the...

Ew!

(gasps) D'oh!

(grunts) Soup's on, fat boy.

Ow! (screams) No!

Ow! No! Ow! No. No.

-Andy, no! -Homer. Homer!

Marge! Oh, why does art hate me?

I never did anything to art.

Oh. Let's get out of here.

Well, Dad, if the museum didn't inspire you,

maybe you should do something really radical, like Christo.

Is he that jerk that revealed

the magician's secrets?

No. Christo is a conceptual artist

who does huge outdoor projects.

He once wrapped the Reichstag in plastic.

Not the Reichstag!

Oh, yes, and he also set up hundreds of yellow umbrellas

-along the California highway. -Why did he do that?

To make the world a more magical place, I guess,

Although they did blow over and kill some people.

Killer umbrellas?

Of course.

Exquisite.

No, Dad. No. My point is, you have to do

something big and daring.

Big? Daring? Lisa, that's it!

I've got an idea for a wonderful art project

that'll make everyone love me again.

Step one, steal all the doormats in town.

Hit the road, "Welcome home."

Adios , "Casa de Flanders."

See ya in hell, "God bless this house."

So long, "The Simpsons."

D'oh!

HOMER: Step two, snorkel the animals.

(panting) It wasn't easy But I got all the grizzlies.

Great. I'll do the pony while you do the lions.

Make sure you strap 'em on real tight.

Now, step three.

Are you sure this is art and not vandalism?

That's for the courts to decide, son.

-(water gurgling) -(birds chirping)

(creaking)

HOMER: Wake up! Wake up, Springfield!

I've got a surprise for you.

Oh, Lord, what now?

(dolphin clicking)

Oh, that can't be good.

People of Springfield,

behold, my latest work!

Homer, what have you done?

It's conceptual art.

The grand canals of Springfield.

Just like Venice, without the black plague. What do you think?

I think some people are going to be upset.

I love it, Homer.

You've turned this town into a work of art.

I just wish Jasper Johns hadn't stolen my boat.

-(screams) -So long, suckers!

Well, they're in the business.

Real people might not be so understanding.

FLANDERS: What the flood?

Maude, it's a miracle!

The Lord has drowned the wicked

and spared the righteous.

(gasps) Isn't that Homer Simpson?

Ugh. Looks like heaven's easier to get into than Arizona State.

Oh! I hate these flood pants.

Hey! They're working!

My feet are soaked, but my cuffs are bone-dry.

Everything's comin' up, Milhouse.

BURN VICTIMS: Ah...

[singing in Italian] ♪ Arrivederci ♪

♪ Roma ♪

Edna, I'm going to pop you a question.

I hope the answer is yes.

Do you think mother would like this hat pin?

Oh... yes.

Oh, you've made me the happiest man on Earth.

Well, Homer, I have to admit,

you created something people really love.

You truly are an artist.

No, I'm just a nut who couldn't build a barbecue.

You'll always be the artist in the family.

Aw.

-Is that our house? -Yep.

-And is that us on the roof? -That's us.

Are we kissing?

Ooh, I don't know. Could be.

I need some inspiration.

[singing in Italian] ♪ Arrivederci ♪

♪ Roma ♪

JASPER JOHNS: Yoink.

♪ It's time for us to part ♪

♪ Save the wedding bells for my returning ♪

♪ Keep my lover's arms outstretched and yearning ♪

♪ Please be sure the flame of love keeps burning ♪

♪ In her heart ♪

(audience murmuring)

Shh!

Captioned by Visual Data Media Services