The Simpsons s14e16 Episode Script

'Scuse Me While I Miss the Sky

The Simpsons 'Scuse Me While I Miss the Sky D'oh! Ah! Before we begin, may I remind you, school computers are not to be used to access PrincipalSkinnerStinks.
com, SkinnerSucks.
org or ShaveThisSkinner.
edu.
He didn't say anything about SkinnerlnAShredder.
com.
Let's make this the best year ever.
Today we have a special guest: A documentary filmmaker whose works include Lost Luggage, Shattered Lives and Upskirt Dreams.
Please welcome Declan Desmond.
Thank you.
Now, when you think of documentaries you probably think of the Maysles brothers and Barbara Kopple.
Well, they're not good enough to wipe my lens.
Here's a look at my work.
A film I made about Krusty Burger: Do You Want Lies With That? Does it bother you that Krusty uses mad cow beef to save money? No.
Because they pass the savings on to me, the consumer.
Aren't you ashamed to lend your likeness to substandard food? Look, I give people a meat-like burger and some kind of cola and they still get change back from their 50.
Your customers may be shocked by my footage of you stapling together abandoned, half-eaten burgers.
Good as new.
Ew! Powerful.
Now he's gonna make a documentary about Springfield Elementary which I assume will be glowing and positive unlike all of his other work.
Right.
Now, everyone, while I'm filming, please be yourselves.
I want to see troubled children brooding, bullies doling out what for What about us cool kids? Should we just chill out? You're doing great.
Stay with the dink.
America is supposed to be a democracy.
But in the schoolyard, cool rules.
And Springfield's Machiavelli of the monkey bars is one Bartholomew Simpson.
On today's royal agenda: Ow! Munch mud, Simpson.
I'm telling.
Oh, man.
And in a flash Bart's glory has gone the way of England's masculinity.
It's a dangerous life being a hall monitor.
When you leave home in the morning you may be kissing your dolls goodbye for the last time.
My sash says "Ultraman.
" I think we've seen enough.
You should realize that our school is not all nitwits and Nelsons.
Why don't I open a door at random? Why, look.
It's typical student Lisa Simpson.
Oh, hello.
I've just been listening to Bach while reading at a sixth-grade level.
Indeed.
Hitting it off already.
I haven't seen such a natural pair since half sandwich and soup of the day.
I'll leave you two alone.
Remember, as far as he knows, we still teach Math.
Hmm, Lisa, I can't help but wonder if this is a bit of a put-on.
Why, whatever do you mean? Whoa! Huh? What? Go, Aberdeen! Ha, ha, you can't blame Principal Skinner for wanting to feature his best student.
- And that's you.
- Well, I am young, gifted and yellow.
My interests include music, science, justice, animals, shapes, feelings.
So you see yourself more as a buffet-style intellectual.
Picking and nibbling until one day you're 38 and managing a Barnes & Noble.
Hey, that's not gonna happen.
Lisa, I'm afraid you're a dilettante.
Pick a path and follow it.
Or you'll grow up, slog your way through Mount Holyoke - and squeeze out babies.
- Stop it! Since Nelson nailed you with that dirt, no one thinks you're cool anymore.
Even that kid that wears diapers is more popular.
And he ain't popular.
So? I'll bounce back.
I always bounce back.
Like after the time I accidentally called the teacher mom.
Even I beat you up that day.
After you passed out.
What's that hood ornament doing around your neck? I snapped it off some jerk's car.
I could go to prison for life, but whatever.
Ah! Wow! The only way to be cooler than him is to do what he does.
I've gotta steal me a hood ornament.
But how? Is something wrong, kids? You haven't touched your Dinnerables.
Nelson steals a hood ornament and now he's king of the school.
All that's left for me is to become the biggest drunk this town's ever seen.
Pfft! Talking won't get you there.
Lisa, what's bumming you out? They cancel a test or something? Dad, my life lacks direction.
It's a concern.
A serious concern.
Hey, I never chose a path.
And because I kept my options open, I can finally do what I want.
- And what's that? - I'm gonna die alone.
Gotta pick a career.
Gotta pick a career.
I can find a good career at this museum.
Or at least see if they fixed that mislabeled raccoon I complained about.
Hmm, maybe I could be an expert on dinosaurs.
Don't do it, little girl.
I spent 30 years brushing the teeth of dead monsters.
Maybe geology.
"Formed by unimaginable heat and pressure deep inside the earth minerals explode in a vast panoply of " Ew.
Since the dawn of time travelers looking for guidance have turned to the heavens.
Polaris, the star of the north mighty Orion's Belt the majestic Milky Way home of a familiar blue planet we call Rigel VII.
Not too far from Earth.
We have only scratched the surface of the universe.
Who will discover the wonders that lie beyond our galaxy? Will it be you or you? Or you? That's it.
Lisa Simpson, astronomer.
Now who will press my reset button? Will it be you? Or you? Or you? Oh, Dad, look at this one.
Sweetie, Daddy doesn't have enough money for that.
Unless they take a check.
We certainly do.
Boing! Why did you say that? Your check gonna bounce? No, ha, ha, of course not.
Duh! Why did you say that? Are you implying I'm dumb? Ah, I have to go.
Oh, my God! Space monsters are invading us! Dad, that's a moth.
Oh.
Well, where do I twist this thing to make funny patterns? Dad, that's a kaleidoscope.
You may be a smart kid but you don't know much about not hurting people's feelings.
Okay.
"At 6:22 p.
m.
, Venus will be visible at 27 degrees.
" Hiyo! Oh, it's beautiful.
What happened? Thanks a lot, surviving Beach Boys.
Okay.
Jupiter should be somewhere around here.
Hmm Hey.
For three seconds there, you were legally the mayor.
Yeah.
And you was a girl, Joe.
It should be dark enough to see the stars up here.
You stole my stars, Springfield! No one ever wrote a poem about sickly orange barf glow.
I know exactly how you feel, young lady.
What you are seeing is light pollution.
Light pollution.
For astronomers like me this is a bigger problem even than I don't know say, getting a date, which is difficult for the geeky people.
We've gotta do something.
I know.
Maybe we can get people to sign a petition.
Well, I'd like to help, I would.
But if I leave this observatory, another astronomer will move right in.
They're like hermit crabs.
They There's one now.
I see you! You said he was out of microscopes! Hey, check out this hood ornament I stole.
With this glinting gewgaw the beta male attempts to reclaim leadership of his herd.
Oh, that's good narration.
That's not a hood ornament.
It's a pacifier you spray-painted silver.
Ha, ha! Wait, that's not right.
Ha, ha! Oh, look.
It's jill-of-all-trades.
So, what's the ambition du jour? I'm collecting signatures to bring back the night sky.
Wow, the night sky.
How did you come up with that, tilt your head up? Does it make you feel superior to tear down people's dreams? Yes.
Does it make you feel smart to question people's motives? - Yes.
- Well, all right then.
Hi.
I'm trying to reduce light pollution.
Argh! I'd be happy to scrimshaw your petition.
People of Springfield, I've heard your pleas.
Whether you're an idealistic stargazer like Lisa or a faded southern belle who needs the forgiving cloak of night to seduce naïve young delivery boys with more pizza than common sense I say Springfield will be the dimmest city in America.
Look up at the stars, Springfield.
For eons, people have gazed at the skies and seen into their souls.
Oh, stop.
Look out, Matthew Modine and Charlene Tilton.
There are new stars in town: Sky stars.
Now visible thanks to Springfield's latest cave-in to the astronomer lobby.
The best part is next week we'll get to see the Deadly meteor shower.
Deadly meteor shower? Named after its discoverer, Professor Artimus Deadly who was, ironically, killed in the shower of 1853.
The last time those meteors came, we thought the sky was on fire.
Naturally, we blamed it on the Irish.
We hanged more than a few.
Uh-oh.
Sounds like some bad eggs are cooking up trouble.
Mm Bad eggs.
Check it out.
This is great.
It's darker than a French chick's armpit.
Oh, every car has been harvested.
I've got to get that hood ornament.
No matter who owns it.
That bird touched my car.
You know what to do.
You're gonna be drinking worms through a straw.
Springfield's pro-darkness policy has resulted in vandalism unmatched since the Detroit Tigers last made the playoffs over two centuries ago.
The government has issued an Orange alert which, once again, means nothing.
Time to get that hood's ornament.
Buonasera, Fat Tony.
I park your car the way Mama used to do.
Why, thank you.
And may I say your mustache looks thick and hearty.
Fully Italian.
Try the cheese pizza.
It's greasy like, uh, you.
You're gonna depreciate a Mafia don's car? Hey, heh, we're all gonna be murdered someday.
Two, four, six, eight! It's time to reilluminate! Mr.
Mayor, you can't flip-flop on this.
We'll miss the meteor shower.
Oh, I don't know how you keep getting past Security.
Luigi, I appreciate your courtesy valet service.
I made a note on your card in my Rolodex: "Don't whack.
" Thank you, Fat Tony.
Thank you.
But at the risk of enraging you by making you look stupid we have no valet parking.
You mean that 10-year-old with a mustache was a phony? You know, Bart, I really like spending time with you.
Just hold the light.
I can't see nothing.
Let's fire blindly into the dark.
No.
You might hit a made man.
- They want light - Unh.
by God, they'll get light.
No! End of the line.
Hey, you're not John Ritter.
And you ain't that gorilla from the zoo.
- Eh.
- Eh.
Okay, you filthy booze-bags, it's 2 a.
m.
So, uh, who's the designated driver? It was Andy.
No one's ever won Moe's drink-a-gallon-of-gin challenge.
And no one ever will.
Ah, life is good.
Hey, what happened? It's bright in the middle of the night.
You know what this reminds me of? My Icelandic boyhood.
It's this new anti-crime dealie.
The mayor turned the street lights way up.
My daughter Lisa feels really strongly about it.
- Pro or con? - I don't know.
What am I, Super Dad? Boy, this light has really screwed up the animals.
I'll bet somewhere there's a horse drinking coffee.
I haven't slept in seven days.
And I've gotten so much ironing done.
"Live from New York, it's Saturday Night.
" Dad, this lack of sleep is making Mom and Maggie crazy.
Don't you think you're overreacting, talking gumball machine? Or an assemblyman on the take.
Forget it.
It's so bright out, you can't see anything in the sky except the Fox satellite.
No, I got my eyes on the prize.
The hood ornament I desperately want for reasons I can no longer remember.
The only thing stopping me is those lights.
Huh! Bart, I just realized we both want the same thing: Darkness.
And we can get it if we work together.
With my brain and your, uh Your assistance You can say it.
I add nothing.
You can't have light without power.
And all the power comes from here.
How'd you get Dad to go along with this? In his sleep-deprived state, he's very suggestible.
Okay, Dad you are now playing patty-cake with Maggie.
Palm recognized.
Access granted.
Aw, my baby's first words.
Hmm Now we merely push this switch to overload.
Yet once we do, we'll be breaking the law.
Can good truly come from civil disobedience? - Gandhi thought so, but - Gandhi also said less talk, more rock.
Uh-oh! All the lights are out.
You better get the entire force working on this.
- But, chief, we are the entire force.
- Okay.
We gotta start recruiting, Lou.
Ugh, look at all those shards of glass! I'll catch them on my tongue for luck.
Ow, ow, ow, ow! It worked.
I got my sky back.
Dad, look.
Night! Glorious night! Uh-oh! There they are! There they are! I can't read porno by candlelight! Who am I, Abe Lincoln? I say tear them limb from limb! Yeah! Huh! Look.
- Oh, they're beautiful.
- My God.
I'm not angry anymore.
Whoa, I don't need drugs to enjoy this.
Just to enhance it.
Paint your palette blue and gray Look out on a summer's day With eyes that know the darkness In my soul I wish Jimmy the Snitch could see this.
Well, just open the trunk.
And I thought this was gonna be a bad night.
Oh, great glayvin in a Glad bag.
That meteor contains carbon-based molecules.
I may be able to prove the existence of life in outer space.
Ha, ha.
Shut up.
This is even better than our screen saver.
And I love our screen saver.
- Nicely done, Lisa.
- Thanks, Mom.
I wish God were alive to see this.
They would not listen They're not listening still Perhaps they never will A Day in the Life of Springfield Elementary.
Where do you think you will be in seven years? I'm gonna live with Underground Grandma.
I'm gonna go to a two-year technical school then work in a garage.
Ugh.
- Sellout.
- Ugh.
- Yuppie.
- Soccer mom.
I'll be batting.
352 in the majors.
Yes! Did you get that, Simon? Brilliant! Right.
Let's go to Moe's.
Shh.