All language subtitles for the.simpsons.s33e22.1080p.web.h264-cakes

Mmm, cookies.

They're not cookies,
they're biscuits.

That's British for cookies.

And they're not for
you or you or you.

Or you or you. Not you.

Not for you.

D'oh!

These treats are
for my lady friends.

They're coming over
to watch a very classy

historical British
streaming show,

and none of you are invited.

Aw...

Cor blimey.

Mmm.

Ow!

Now here's a distraction
for each of you.

Mmm.

Mmm.

I downloaded you a
podcast about beers

that you don't hear
much about anymore.

Ooh, there's a whole
episode about Löwenbräu.

If no one minds, I
brought a few beverages

to lubricate the evening.

- Me, too. - Same.
- Way ahead of you.

So what the hell
are we waiting for?

Let's dial up the Netflix.

I've got Helen
Lovejoy's password.

She came to live with us
when she and the Reverend

were taking a break.

She swore me to secrecy
about that, but whoops.

The Springfield ladies had

a marvelous time
journeying back to an era

when England was filled with
eligible young ladies in corsets

courted by hot,
multiracial dudes

with rock-hard abs.

The writing on this
show is amazing.

Oh-ho. Men can have
muscles on their chests now?

The ad in the beer podcast

is an ad for beer.

That is so smart.

I've just swum back from Europe.

We've just won the
Battle of Knicker-bulge.

Let us all doff our
clothes in triumph.

¡Ay, caramba!

Bart, don't watch that.

Now go to bed.

Oh!

Mmm, looks like the
Earl of Sixpackingham

is showing the
whole walking stick.

Ooh, I'll drink to that.

Honey, what's wrong?

You look like what I see
in the mirror every morning.

Also, a strange blender
is on your nightstand.

I think I drank just

a toonsie-teensy bit too much

with the girls last night.

Marge, you need to take
a long look at yourself.

We can't be a two-hangover
household. We just can't.

I'm sorry, sweetie,
but I just don't think

I can go to church this morning.

Oh, my... Aw...

No church? Oh, no.

Well, I guess I'll have
to find another way

to spend my Sunday.

Mmm, chest chips.

I meant you'll have to
take the kids to church

- on your own.
- D'oh!

Aw, it's not fair.

I always go to church hungover.

It's always the committed
drinkers who get punished.

Boozehounds just
can't catch a break.

You know, hymns like that

make God come
off a little thirsty.

Now I'd like to invite
our littlest angels

to head to Sunday
school with Mrs. Lovejoy.

Try spending a weekend
with her in the Wisconsin Dells.

This week's Junior
Jesus Jamboree topic

is "Honor Thy
Mother and Father."

- Who would like to go first?
- Oh! Oh!

Sunday school presentations
don't affect my grades

and won't help
me get into college,

and I'm not even a
practicing Christian,

but I still have a
sick need to excel,

so pick me! Pick me! Pick me!

I think we'll start with... Hmm.

Bart Simpson. Oh,
but I'm guessing

you forgot all about
your presentation.

You know, Helen,
for a woman of faith,

you have so little of it in me.

For this assignment,
I was born ready.

Well,

it's not hard to
honor my mother.

Marge is a class
act all the way.

As for my father,
well, with a dad

like Homer Simpson,
how could I not honor him?

He's so hardworking
and dignified.

Mmm.

And he carries himself
with such class and panache.

Mascot, oh, goes for the kiss

and, oh, he goes into the
proposal with the bouquet.

Tosses it away and
he faints out of love,

and the big, fat guy
is having none of it

and he's giving chase.

- The fat guy is on the field.
- Come here, you.

And the Freak is running away,

and he's using the
players as obstacles.

And now he's smashing his...

You know something,
that's just not right.

Sweetie, do your thing.

Baby coming through.
Crying now and pooping soon.

Hmm.

As you can see,
wherever my dad goes,

people cheer.

Look, if you didn't
want me to pee in a cup,

then the movie should
have commercials.

Whiz break! Whiz
break! Whiz break!

Get him out of here.

In conclusion, I honor my father

because he is not
not not not a loser.

One, two, three, four.

That's an even number of nots.

He thinks I'm a loser.

How dare you show your peers
a supercut of me at my worst?!

Haw-haw!

Haw-haw-haw!

Huh?

I hate the Welsh, but
I hate you even more!

My son has no respect
for me. He shamed me

in front of the whole
Sunday school.

Even Ralph. What
about all the videos

of me not being a
loser? Where were they?

Oh, boy. It's so sad

that kids just use
cameras for shaming.

We've raised a generation
that only loves fails.

My fails.

At least I have a
lady to rub my face.

Bart's gonna spend the rest
of his life lotioning himself.

Maybe Bart doesn't understand

how hard you work to
provide for this family.

When I was a girl,

my father took me to
work with him one day.

I felt so proud when I
saw him playing pizza

in that antacid commercial.

That's what I should do.

Take Bart to work.

Then he'll be proud of me.

Pizza proud.

Mmm.

Seven, eight and nine.

Oh!

Watch me work

and be proud, you jerk.

No.

I don't want to
hear your friends

tell me how big I've gotten.

Hmm.

Oh. Well-played, big man.

Larry! Slap a
guest badge on him!

Larry!

And this thing over here
is if the core gets too hot.

I'm all over that.

And this dealie over
here is if the core...

goes missing.

Has that ever happened?

Not on my watch. And
the way you can be sure

is that everyone
you know isn't dead.

Hmm.

Hey, Homer.

Monday morning
doughnuts are here.

Take your pick.

Chocolate frosted? Maple bar?

Better hurry or
you're gonna get plain.

Doughnuts. Do you
have to pay for 'em?

Sure, technically.

It's an honor system.

Whoa.

A pop machine full of free pop.

A TV showing that jerk Dr. Phil.

A poster on how to choke a guy.

I think that's for
after you choke him.

Simpson,

I need that updated spreadsheet

on the hard water
degradation rate.

Watch this.

I told you interns

to spread-date the graduation
on the hard lemonade.

So find out what
I'm talking about

- and get it done!
- Yes, Mr. Simpson.

And you get free markers?
When I get back to school,

I'm gonna go Sistine
Chapel on those toilet stalls.

Why wait?

Here you go, Simpson.

Best part of the job.

You know it, Linda.

Dad, is that your paycheck?

Sure is.

Can I see it?

I'll do you one better.

Give it to me in singles.

Minus the 8.5%
check-cashing fee.

I didn't ask for
your life story.

And here's what
makes it all worthwhile.

Whoa. You get all
that every week?

Every two weeks.

Ah, the laugh of respect.

Oh, my God, is it picture day?

Lisa, quick, let
me fix your hair.

Ow! It's not picture day,

and my hair's not pasta.

I am dressed this
way to honor Dad.

I never thought about it,
but Homer makes enough

to pay for this
awesome crib, two cars,

with enough left
over to fill the freezer

with three kinds
of french fries:

waffle, curly and steak-cut.

Dad, all these years

I thought you were just
some uncool roommate

that I got stuck with.

Now I realize you're a winner.

And that's why I want to
be a nuclear safety inspector.

Marge, he doesn't
just respect me.

He wants to be me.

What a feeling.

Oh... this must be how
LeBron feels about...

Bronny.

Mmm.

Just like you, Dad, I can't wait

to live the American dream.

Well, actually...

- What?
- Oh, nothing.

Pew, pew, pew!

I'm a superstar spaceman.

I'm a modern
superhero. I can fly,

but I can't process
my own trauma.

I'm a nuclear safety guy.

I get tons of money for
not blowing the town up.

Well, the thing about that is...

- What?
- Nothing.

Forget I said anything.

Hey, Dad, guess what.

I made a homemade ID badge,
and Larry just waved me in.

Huh. Where is he?

Oh, man, what a gig.

Homer's got it made.

He sure does.

So, you're visiting your
old man at work today?

I sure am. And this sweet job

will be mine someday.

Wha...?

Hate to burst your bubble, kid,

but the kind of job your dad has

- just doesn't exist anymore.
- Why not?

Well, there's no
simple answer to that.

- All right. See you later.
- Bart, come with me

to a magical place
far in the past:

America in the 20th century.

Uh, sure.

But you better
not start singing.

The decline of unions,
rampant corporate greed,

Wall Street malfeasance

and the rise of
shortsighted politics

all contributed to increased
economic inequality,

widespread real
unemployment, wage stagnation,

and a lower standard of
living for millions of Americans.

All right, thanks for the
history lesson, nerds.

But what does any of
this have to do with me?

You see, my dad's still working,

and I want to be just like him.

I'm sure you do.

But there's something
else you need to learn,

and my friend here
is happy to teach you.

Ugh, you.

For days, you've been dying
to say something. Just spill it.

I'll probably just
buy a PlayStation 6.

Okay, so, you're saying
maybe I'll have a tough time

getting a job like my dad's.

No, no, I'm saying

you'll definitely never
get a job like your dad's,

and you'll have a tough time

finding something
significantly worse.

Thanks for the song and dance,

but I think I'm
gonna be just fine.

No. Just... no.

Okay, great. So I have
no options whatsoever.

Smell you later, dude.

Isn't it infuriating?

We'll never live
as well as they did.

Why doesn't anyone
do anything about this?

Well, there's an answer to
that, but it's not one you'll like.

So, as you can see, Bart...

Bart?

Burn it.

"Burn it"? Burn what?

Well, that's up to you.

All I know is what
a janitor knows.

Hmm. I do enjoy
destroying things.

And this tie looks flammable.

Wait, Bart, I meant the system.

Burn it down and then reform it.

It was a metaphor.

Eh. I never learned
what that word means.

- Our education system is also terrible.
- No!

Oh, my God.

Oh, so this is real?

Help!

I want to live to
see the future,

even if it's gonna
be incredibly crappy!

You saved me.

Thanks! By the way,
how good's your pay?

Mom, Dad, I figured
out what I'm gonna do.

I'm gonna be a fireman.

Well, it is true that fire
isn't going anywhere.

- What the hell was that?
- From what I can gather,

a singing janitor took
Bart on a magical journey

through America's
postwar economy.

Also, Lisa was a rapper.

I'm a little concerned that
Bart set his tree house on fire.

It does seem like an escalation.

Maybe we can
use this opportunity

to upgrade the backyard.

Yeah. We could get a gazebo.

That'd be nice.

I just read through
our homeowners policy.

We're not covered
for musical numbers.

- D'oh!
- D'oh!

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