All language subtitles for The.Simpsons.S36E03

♪ The Simpsons ♪

Ugh. Can you just... Never mind.

[Marge, Lisa groan]

What's up with Blue Tip and Starfish?

Oh, those two have been fighting
like Don Draper and Pete Campbell

after they lost the Lucky Strike account.

What? Krusty's in reruns.

Lisa and I weren't fighting.

It was just a series of calm,
constructive conversations.

What? That's not how I remember it.

Lisa was like... [imitating Lisa]
..."I hate this town. Everyone's stupid!"

And you were like... [imitating Marge]
..."Lisa is driving me crazy.

We should send her to Capital City
with my sisters for the weekend."

That may not be word for word. [titters]

Train for Capital City leaving
in five minutes.

Please wrap up all family arguments
and bid a quiet poignant goodbye.

All aboard!

Bye, Lisa, and have a great time
in the city with your aunties.

I got you a little snack for the train.

Mom! You know
Apple Zoom is full of chemicals!

And it's owned by...

Thanks, Mom.

[chuckles]

I'm glad I don't have a daughter.

[♪ "Symphony No. 45 in D Major,
K. 95: I. Allegro" playing]

Wow.

Capital City!

God, there's just so much
I wanna see and do here.

The Museum of Modern Museums.

The Prussian Coffee Room.

[gasps] The Unidentified State Building.

Oh, and tomorrow
is the Highbrow Artists Parade.

But the thing I really wanna see
is the statue of the Fearless Girl,

facing down the gorilla

that symbolizes fossil fuels
and wasteful fast-food packaging.

Huh. What do you know?

You can let us out at the next block.

[Lisa] This is the touristy part
of the city.

- Where are we going?
- To the finest restaurant in town.

The Laramie Cigarettes Smokehouse Grill.

[Lisa groans]

- Bring us the Tuna Tar-Tar.
- With extra tar.

- Cigs in a Blanket.
- Philly Wheeze Steak.

Vape Suzette.

And for dessert, the Phlegm Brûlée.

Can we go now?
We've wasted the whole day here.

Cool your jets, toots.
Aunties need their post-meal smoke.

[alarm blares]

Sorry, ladies. No smoking.
Take it outside.

Hyah!

- Patricia Bouvier?
- Julian.

Mwah. I saw on Facebook
that you were coming to town.

Why didn't you call me,
you two gorgeous minxes?

[both laugh]

Lisa, this is my friend Julian.

We met last year
at the Capital City Pride Parade.

I still think
their float should've won first prize.

Stunning!

Oh, is that a book of poetry
by Sylvia Plath?

Yes, it is! Poor dear Sylvia.

The world's loss was that oven's gain.

I'm a poet myself.
Also a novelist, essayist, playwright,

and author
of the occasional scalding Airbnb review.

Oh, those are all things I'd like to be
when I grow up and leave Springfield.

Oh, my God. That's your hometown?

Hi. I'm Katya.

I actually went there to take photographs

for my prize-winning show,
Freaks of the 'Field.

Look at these and react to them.
I can't watch.

[Lisa] Oh.

Oh.

[groans]

I won a lot of prizes for these.
Isn't that weird?

No, I think they're great.

That's what everyone says. It's so crazy.

[coughs]

Oh, this is my husband Lars.
He's a brilliant painter.

[grumbles]

Oh, wow. Somehow, I sense you're craving
love and connection in an uncaring world.

And also an extra large cookie?

Mm-hmm.

Lisa, for a little girl
in a lampshade dress,

you seem very sophisticated.

Really? Well, I try.

I mean, I don't try.
It's effortless! [titters]

Oh, my God.
I just had the kind of amazing idea

that everyone thinks is stupid,
but then I'm totally right.

You should come to our party tonight.

It's in our loft.

North of Hobart Street,
south of Gordon Avenue,

and below the Joseph Torrance Expressway.

Nohosogoblojoto?

That's the coolest,
most artistic neighborhood in town!

- [gasps] Can we go?
- Oh, no, kid.

We're gonna take you
to something you're gonna love.

Thanks, Aunt Selma.

You know me so well.

Well, if you change your minds,
we'll be around for a little longer,

sneering at Midwestern tourists.

- [Lars, Julian groan]
- [Katya groans] Barf.

Maybe we could go to their party
after the musical.

Juice-ical. [retches]

[stutters] Are you okay?

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Just a little indigestion.

We'll be fine.

[Selma, Patty retching]

[Patty] I knew there was something off
about that menthol swordfish!

[continue retching]

[sighs]

[Selma, Patty snoring, retching]

Out of our way, kid.

We gotta either sleep or die,
and we don't care which one.

[Selma, Patty snoring]

- [phone beeps]
- [Lisa] Hmm?

Oh, yes, by all means, take a picture
with that off-brand Pikachu.

What a precious keepsake that will be.

Hi. Hi. Hi.

My aunts are feeling
a little under the weather. [chuckles]

So they said I should hang out with you.

They said a small child
should spend the night

exploring the bohemian demimonde
with a bunch of effete gadabouts?

That's what they said.

[♪ "Bull In the Heather" playing]

So, Lisa, what do you think, Lisa?

I think I'm home.

This place is a dream.

Everyone's so cool,
and the art is all nonrepresentational.

[sighs]

Oh, my God, Lars. That is so brilliant.

I seriously wish I'd married someone else
so I could cheat on my husband with you.

Now, let's get everything to the gallery.

- What? Now?
- Yep!

Our group show opens tomorrow

at the Museum
of Loft-Based Transgressive Progressivism.

So we have to get
all our work there tonight.

Okay, everyone. Grab a canvas,
sculpture, or performance artist.

[grunts] Whoa.

Hey. Can I get a little help, please,
from "The Inhuman Capotes"?

Writers are liars
who tell the truth for money.

But I'm asking if you're helping us move.

If you're going to stab me in my back,
do it to my face.

[groans]

Don't mind him. He's the worst.

We used to be a throuple.
He was incredible!

I wish he was dead. You need one of these.

[♪ "Bull In the Heather" playing]

Lisa, you're a dear and a doll,

and you carried Kool-Aid Jesus
without spilling a drop.

Oh, my God, it's so late.

I really should get back
to Patty and Selma.

But, darling, the night is just beginning.

This is your moment.

And we have tickets
to see an avant-garde play

that starts at 1:00 a.m.

Well, I would hate to wake up my aunties.

[snoring]

[cough, groan]

[Lisa] God, I love art,
and I love this city.

Punks, poets, madmen, monologists.

[gasps] Superintendent Chalmers?

Sweet vermouth in a snifter. Lisa Simpson!

Hey, Gary. Hurry up here
with them Reuben sammies.

You and me got a long night of doinking
ahead of us.

- We're putting on a staff excursion.
- Of course.

- [stammering] Continuing education and...
- No need to explain.

- Makes perfect sense.
- Life-long learning endeavor...

Oh, that's interesting.

Lisa, we're running late.

Stop talking to that balding stallion.

[chuckles] I don't know about stallion,
but, yes.

[all gasp]

This is so moving.

That poor man has been transformed
into a cockroach.

And there's his unfeeling father.

- [speaking German]
- [screaming]

Leave him alone!

[audience gasp]

Who just interrupted my play?

How dare you desecrate the hallowed boards
of this converted rooster-fighting arena?

Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright
Tracy Letts?

You wrote this?

And I play the enormous shoe
that steps on the cockroach in act three.

It's a loafer with a back story.

Not that they'll ever get to see it now.

- I'm sorry I--
- Interrupted?

Young lady,
this play has run for over a year.

And you're the very first person
to interfere and save the cockroach.

Proving you're one of the most sensitive

and artistically attuned people
I've ever met.

Give her a round of applause.

My two Tony awards command you!

[cheering]

This kid is incredible.

She gives me hope for the next generation
of self-important know-it-alls.

Oh. [chuckles]

Yes. She's truly a special young person.
Just brimming with precocity.

In fact, I was thinking she might be
a good fit for the Horace Frick Academy.

HFA? [gasps]

That's the school I would never dream
of letting myself hope

that I could aspire
to imagine going there.

Well, Lisa, I'm on the board of trustees--

Go, Fighting Tote Bags--

and I think I might just be able
to guarantee you a place.

- When would I start?
- Next month.

- And what does it cost?
- $84,000 a year.

But how would I ever pay for that?

Not my problem!

Now, if you'll excuse me,
I just thought of an awesome play

and I have to go scream it into my phone.

Curtain rises on Dave & Buster's.

Everyone is dead.

[groans] I would love
to attend that school.

But my mom and dad
don't have that kind of money.

- Oh, that's so terrible.
- Wait just a moment.

I know a wealthy benefactress
who might be able to help you.

Lacey Van Aster.

She's a little eccentric,
but something tells me she'd adore you,

just like we adore you.

I misread this.

To the forbidden zone,
the Upper East Side.

[♪ "Bull In the Heather" playing]

It's really late.

Are you sure she's up?

Oh, yeah. She's a well-known night owl
and a bit of a speed freak. Vroom, vroom.

Teddy Roosevelt, Franklin Roosevelt,
Eleanor Roosevelt.

Um, every one of them I seduced,

and destroyed.

Lacey, darling,
we always enjoy your delightful stories,

but we'd like to discuss
your scholarship fund

for children from, how shall we say,
tragic cultural wastelands?

Yes, my lucrative bursary.

But first,
there is an extensive interview process.

All right then.
First of all, how are you, dear?

I'm okay.

The scholarship is yours.

- [Lars, Katya cheering]
- Huzzah! Hip hip hurrah!

Good night, Lisa.

I've only known you for a day,

but I can tell
that you're an artist at heart.

Thank you, Katya.

I can't believe I'll be going to school
in Capital City.

And then from there,
I'll become a critically acclaimed writer,

an artist, and member of the cognoscenti.

Cognoscenti.

[both] Cognoscenti.
Cognoscenti. Cognoscenti!

[chuckles]

It's all in front of me.

Someday I'll be in that photograph.

Wait a second.

Why are they posing with Martin Prince?

- [Julian] Therein lies a tale, Lisa.
- [Lisa gasps]

Every year,
self-impressed little bookworms

like you and Martin Prince

come to the big city
where we convince them

that they could one day be one of us
just by attending Horace Frick Academy.

But there's just one problem,
my little swan-abee.

Nobody you've met tonight
has any connection to that school.

What? Not even Tracy Letts?

Especially Tracy Letts!

Behind these supporting-actor good looks,
I'm a world-class fraud.

You were naïve enough to believe
that you could get into that school.

And that Roosevelt-doinking crone,
Mrs. Van Aster,

was naïve enough
to make out the tuition check to us.

And you fell for it.
Hook, Letts, and sinker.

You eight-year-old fool.

But why do you need to steal money?

I thought you all supported yourselves
by making art.

It is to laugh.

Oh, this is awful! I'm gonna report you
to the Capital City Police.

[scoffs] I'm sure they'll take the word
of an infamous art thief.

There you are.

But I was helping to move that art.
I wasn't stealing it.

Oh, I know you're innocent.

But this damning footage
has already gone out

to the entire artistic community
of Capital City.

And it's not a good look.

The only thing an artist hates more
than an art thief is themselves.

No!

[gasps] Our ill-gotten gains!

There she is! Get her! [all shout]

God. They got this show together so fast.

[clamoring] Hey!

Please answer.

[person on TV] I knew just one thing.

We were not going
to lose the Ringtone Wars.

And that's when I came up with this.

[ringtone plays]

- [Marge, Homer] Wow.
- [Bart] Whoa, wow.

Check it out.
It's almost 5:00 in the morning.

We've almost watched
this entire 12-hour documentary

about the history of ringtones.

Best 12 hours ever. [grunts]

[groans]

Superintendent Chalmers? Now you're here?

No... [stammers] Look, in the interest
of, uh, fumfering, I, um... [chuckles]

Gary, doinking.

Look, Lisa... [sighs]

...sometimes when grown-ups get bored,
they start playing pickleball,

or they learn to make sourdough bread,

or they book
two different romantic getaways

with two different women
who don't know about each other.

[stutters] It's a very common thing.

Mr. Chalmers, would you
please, please, help me hide?

Just for a little while.

Oh, I'd love nothing more, but, um...

And I would love
not to tell the school board

about your extracurricular activities.

Ugh. This has been
the worst night of my life.

I came to Capital City
because I wanted to get away

from the dead-eyed ding-dongs
in Springfield.

No offense.

And then these horrible people
came in my room and told me--

Gary, you son of a bitch, I'll kill you!

[all scream]

Settle, settle.

[stutters]
Dora, can we just talk about this?

No. We can't.

Oh, okay then.

[horn honks]

Superintendent Chalmers!

There's that pilfering little urchin!

[cockroach man] Wait up, guys.

[gasps]

[pants] It's never been
more past my bedtime.

I'm too tired to run anymore.

[gasps]

Desperate times call
for high-fructose corn syrup.

[gulping]

She drank the juice. A mother knows.

Hey, art jerks. Your work is derivative,
and you're all old!

[all gasp]

[grunts]

[gasps] It's the Fearless Girl statue.

Goldman Sachs? Ew.

I hate this city!

[grunts]

These are balloons
from the Highbrow Artists Parade.

[gasps] That's today!

They are relentless.

Thank God for this balloon.

[clicks]

Ah!

- Joan Didion.
- [Julian cackles]

How ironic.

You're clinging to Joan Didion,
but you're clearly John Gregory "Done"!

[cackles]

I hate that I get that.

But you'll never get this.

[all gasp]

She ripped up the check!

Well, then do something about it,
you second-rate Cindy Sherman!

[whimpers] Oh, no.

What the hell are you doing?

If there was a gun in the first act,
I would shoot you right now.

I'm setting her free.

Goodbye, Lisa!

Never forget the essence
of being an artist,

having rich parents!

You can still resent them horribly,
just take their money!

It is easy to see the beginnings of things
and harder to see the ends.

I can remember now, with a clarity

that makes the nerves
in the back of my neck constrict

when the city began for me.

But I cannot lay my finger
upon the moment it ended.

Can never cut through the ambiguities,
and second starts, and broken resolves

to the exact place on the page

where the heroine is no longer
as optimistic as she once was.

How are you talking to me?

You haven't slept in 24 hours.

Hmm. Makes sense.

[pops]

- Lisa.
- Superintendent.

Good morning.

Today we'll be reading

from The Firecracker
Who Didn't Want To Go, "Boom!"

"'I like quiet things.'
Said the firecracker.

'Why does everything in the world
have to be so loud?'"

[Lisa sighs]

"'Things like sirens, and jackhammers,

and tugboat whistles,
and big brass drums.'"