The Simpsons s23e05 Episode Script

The Food Wife

And here's a marble for Lisa for cleaning her room, and a marble for Bart for not trashing Lisa's room.
The jars are full, so you've earned your Saturday Surprise Dad Day! BART and LISA: Yay! This Saturday, from the dad who brought you cemetery paintball and go-karts on real roads, comes the greatest activity yet BART and LISA: Video game convention! (cameras clicking) (crowd gasps) (crowd cheering) And check these out.
BART and LISA: VIP passes! Is there any better feeling than cutting in line because a plastic badge says you're special? (drools) (Bart and Lisa drool) (all gasp) BART: GTS! HOMER: So many games.
- Ah.
- Wow.
BART: Whoa.
(gasps) W.
?! HOMER: Ooh, the Flying Tomato.
BART: Ah! TMTOLO! DL2L-to-D! Oh! ACSOL! HC1?! Whoa! Guts of War Two: Entrails of Intestinox! Colon slash! Rectum kill! We've made a game that'll reward the hardcore gamer with hundreds and hundreds of hours of - Finished it.
- Huh? (fanfare plays) But working on this game cost me my marriage.
I-I have twins I've never met! Well, when you meet them, tell them your game's too easy.
to the lame, dead-on-arrival humor of Stanford.
(crowd cheering over TV) ("Stars and Stripes Forever" playing) Uh-oh, I'm losing the crowd! (grunting) GAME ANNOUNCER: Level cleared.
Next level: study for chemistry test on 12-hour bus ride home.
(giggles) This is the funnest game ever! Man, how many quarters does this game take? Dad! Funtendo is unveiling their new system in three minutes, in Hall G! And we're in Hall D.
Three halls, three minutes.
No problem.
HOMER: Out of my way! Move it! (people screaming) Geeks must yield to normals! (grunts) (panting heavily) (cash register dings) (chewing, ascending beeps) Room's full.
Aha! (laughs) BART and LISA: Yay! (fanfare plays) Woo-hoo! (humming) (tires screech) Conventions rock! Fun Dad rocks! I need a nap! (Bart and Lisa laugh) You kids have had a big day.
Head up to the tub while I deflate your toys.
Save us, Fun Dad! (laughter) (Rod and Todd grunt happily) The kids sure had a good time with you.
Yeah, I was on today.
Scary on.
How come they never call me Fun Mom? Look, honey, a family's like a team.
And on every team, you have the slam-dunking megastar and the referee.
It's not fair.
Moms want to be fun, but we're stuck with all the mom stuff.
Okay, okay, how about this: next week, you take the kids on a Saturday Surprise Dad Day.
What if we roll pennies and go to the dollar store? That's good, Marge! Get all the terrible ideas out of your system.
(groans): Oh.
I've got it! Your Saturday Surprise Mom Day is the X-Games! BART and LISA: Yay! X-Games! X-Games! All right! That isn't an "X," Mom.
Welcome to the Cross Games, Simpsons.
A Christian fellowship expo! Are there at least games here? Oh, no, "games" stands for Gathering of American Messengers for Evangelical Sports.
Sports? (chuckles) "Sports" stands for Strict Parental Oversight Rather Than Sports.
(both groan) Come on, kids, fun comes from inside.
It isn't about what we actually do.
Yes, it is! That's all it is! You're right, you're right, you're right.
Let's go.
Thank the Lord! Two children to play debtors in the Parable of the Unjust Steward.
All the other kids are at something called the X-Games.
(Bart and Lisa groan) I'm sorry, gang.
I blew it.
(groans) I hate it when grown-ups call kids "gang.
" Don't worry about it, Mom.
Dad will take us on a great outing next weekend.
(sighs) (engine clanks, rattles) Why do old squirrels always crawl into my engine to die? (groans): Oh.
Guess we'll be making an unscheduled pit stop, gang.
We're not a gang! Gangs are cool! (tires screech) Uh, Mom, where are we? Nowhere scary.
(engine hissing) Everything's fine.
We'll just wait here for the tow truck.
That newborn has earrings! Mom, we're hungry.
(groans): Oh.
I guess we could make a sprint for one of these local establishments.
(Marge groaning) They're using pancakes as spoons.
Ooh, let's see what else they do wrong.
(groaning) Ew! Ugh! They're selling CDs in the restaurant! Back to the car! What can I get you? Oh, I'll just have a side salad.
We have no side salad.
Back to the car! Relax, Mom.
Be adventurous.
Yeah, just have fun.
Dad would.
(sighs) What's the craziest thing on the menu? (chuckles) She means the most authentic.
Well, that would be the Zelzel Minchet Aletcha Wat.
Then I'll have that! (all gasp) Okay, Marge, you test-drove a convertible once; you can do this.
(lively Ethiopian music playing) (taste buds gasping, murmuring excitedly) Holy casserole-y! That's good gloop! I wish I lived in Ethiopia! Exotic, vegetarian, I can mention it in a college essay.
Mom, this is amazing! (all chewing noisily) Wait, wait, wait, what is she eating? They've never served me that dish, and I wear indigenous beaded headgear.
Oh, this? It's just a little Zelzel Minchet Aletcha Wat.
It's all I ever eat here.
(gasps) They have prepared her a dish from the non-translated page! (gasps) So grab a pancake and slurp some slop! Foodies, heed my call! Commence ripping and dipping! (all chewing noisily) So, did all of your cars break down? Mom, they're here on purpose.
They're foodies.
Our passion is to seek out interesting foods, savor their exotic flavors, then blog about them.
We discovered Korean barbeque in this town.
Uh, before the Koreans? Oh, sure they cook it, but they don't get it.
"When you stick a pancake into a friend's mouth, it's a goorsha.
" Everybody goorsha! ALL: Goorsha! BART and LISA: Goorsha! Goorsha! Goorsha! Goorsha! Goorsha! Goorsha! Goorsha! Goorsha! Goorsha! Marge, the kids are acting ethnic! Relax, Homie.
Have some leftover Galalalalalalalalah.
(grunting) Oh, no.
I don't eat anything new unless I've eaten it before.
Aw, come on, Dad, be a foodie.
You're already a fatty and a drunkie.
I don't want to think about food, I want to like it.
Why drive across town to savor a bowl of mystery mush when there's four different Krusty Burgers we can see from our house? Oh, and here's my favorite restaurant: La Fridge.
It's open 24 hours a day and there's no dress code.
What kind of American man doesn't want to explore global food culture? And then brag about it on the Internet.
We should start our own food blog.
(gasps) The Three Mouthketeers.
Three? You mean, one, two me? (gasps) (grunts) We're blogging a food blog Marge and Bart and Lisa as one now We're having fun now (rapping): Throwing down mad foodie game Knowing all the chefs' names Rolling into K-town Bibimbap and bulgogi The hotties that I chill with Sriracha and kimchi Give me house-made terrines My duck is always confit I braise with a billion more BTUs than I need Cook Thanksgiving turkey in a trash bag, sous-vide A fumatore in Brindisi FedEx me salami Don't scoop gelato unless it's got umami I'll be frank like Bruni, ruthless like Reichl Wiley like Dufresne when I take the mic out Rhyme about radicchio Criticize Colicchio Every pub is gastro All my beef carpaccio Throw it in the pho, yo And don't you call that pho pho Talk about broth-squirting dumplings Dumplings, dumplings, dumplings (singing): We're blogging a food blog Uploading pics with Our Fun Mom, Fun Mom, Fun Mom.
People are loving our list of Springfield's top 99 Afghan restaurants.
I feel bad for all those places that didn't make the cut.
All right, food nerds, reality check.
All the food in those pictures is poop by now.
Minds blown, you're welcome.
(groans): Oh.
I'll remind you kids what real fun is.
Hey, hey, kids! (laughs) Krustyland has a new ride.
The Eyeballs of Death.
It only passed the safety panel by a three-to-two vote.
And that third vote didn't come cheap.
(laughs) And I've got tickets for the grand opening Saturday night.
Whoa! (gasps) Cool.
Uh, kids, don't forget about our special plans Saturday night.
Oh, sorry, Dad.
Our blog is so popular, we got an invitation to the most exclusive restaurant in town.
Kent Brockman himself could only get a reservation at 5:30 or 9:30.
(giggles) It's called El Chemistri, and they use science to make the food.
Behold pine needle sorbet.
(moaning) Pine needle sorbet? Pine needle sorbet? My kids do not eat sorbet; they eat sherbet.
And they pronounce it "sherbert," and they wish it was ice cream.
Sorry, Dad, this is our thing now.
Fine, blow off Fun Dad and go eat your walrus mustaches and deep-fried pixie wings.
Don't be so jealous, Homie, just because the kids are finally having fun doing something with me.
Aah! Jealous? Me? (chortles) That is to laugh.
The very idea.
If anything (laughs) you're the one who's jealous.
Of what? Of how much fun I am to be around! (sobs) It's always a party with Fun Dad! (sobbing) Too sad to walk.
Too sad and fun to walk.
What are you doing? When I'm sad, I make baseball bats.
Homie, I don't want you to feel excluded.
Would you like to come with us to dinner at El Chemistri? Really? You'd let me in on your thing? Even though I think it's stupid? Of course.
Hand me that saw, Marge.
Why? When I'm happy, I make birdhouses.
Kids, guess what.
Mom invited me to your fancy dinner.
Awesome! I guess Fun Dad is a foodie now.
BART and LISA: Food Dad! Food Dad! Food Dad! (groans) (murmuring) I'm food bad boy Tony Bourdain.
There's nowhere I won't go and nothing I won't eat, as long as I'm paid in emeralds and my hotel room has a bidet that shoots warm champagne.
I'm here at a Singapore street-food market with famous blogging family, the Three Mouthketeers.
Marge, you've got to try some of this hang hir kuay chap.
Ooh, triple spicy barbecued stingray stuffed with pig organs.
Fun Dad is a foodie now! (munching loudly) (swallows) This is my thing and always will be.
(munching loudly) Food Dad! Food Dad! Food Dad! Everything's more fun with Homer.
(speaking faux Swedish) But this was all I had.
BRITISH MAN: Stop your bloody whinging, Marge.
Aah! Gordon Ramsay! You (bleep) it up, big blue, didn't you? Why did you invite Homer? He stole your bloody thunder.
You're not as (bleep) fun as him, and you never will be.
(crying) Darling, darling, crying's not fun.
Homer's fun.
Now, get out of my dream.
It's my dream.
Not anymore it's not.
Ramsay, awake.
What in the hell was that? (gasps, sighs) Fun me.
Fun me.
Fun me.
Kids, I was thinking, was it really such a great idea to invite your father to that dinner? Relax-- Dad will be the life of the party.
He'll be the fourth Mouthketeer.
But there weren't four Musketeers.
Athos, Porthos, Aramis and D'Artagnan.
D'Artagnan wasn't a Musketeer.
He only had a letter of introduction to the captain of the guards-- which he lost! You know, I'm pretty excited about this far-out dinner.
Maybe I'll like it.
Oh, I doubt it.
You sit at communal tables full of hipsters.
Well, actually, I've come around on hipsters.
Takes a lot of guts to all wear the same hat.
And the food will all be weird foams-- cooked with chemicals or served in a test tube.
It's too crazy for you.
So it's weird.
Don't worry, I'll make it fun.
Yeah, you always do.
Well, here's where to meet us.
East Oak Street.
East Oak Street.
Is that it? Uh yes.
Yes, East Oak Street.
That's where you should go.
See you there.
Don't you judge me.
Ah, save it for the sitter.
Welcome to El Chemistri.
Please place these mints in your mouth, and when your table is ready, they will vibrate.
(dog howling) Here it is: 1501 East Oak.
No name on the door-- very trendy.
What do you want? Is this the chemical kitchen place where you do the crazy cooking? Quiet, man.
The experience begins.
Where's Dad? Uh I don't know.
Probably changed his mind and stopped off for doughnuts.
(chuckles) CHEF: Before you is a deconstructed Caesar salad: romaine lettuce gel, egg yolk ice, crouton foam and anchovy air.
You eat it like this: gel, ice, foam, air, foam, ice, gel, foam, air.
Just like Marge said-- chemicals and test tubes.
The open kitchen is a nice touch.
I guess I'll get started before my family gets here.
How much for a taste? You know, just to get me going.
This place is fancy.
The next course is Regret.
(delighted moans) (moaning) (chuckling) Hipsters.
Too cool for school.
You don't look like the kind of guy who does this.
Well, my wife thinks it's too crazy for me, but I'm going to prove her wrong.
(chuckles) I'm doing this for my family.
All right, Breaking Baddies, drop the meth.
Pick up the meth! Pick up the meth! (gasping) This better be dinner theater! And now, pork chops 100 ways.
I can't believe Dad is missing this.
Sure, your dad's great, but I'm fun, too.
Look at me eat, huh? (munching loudly) D'oh.
Who am I kidding? I'm not enjoying this.
Even the foam tastes like nothing.
(sighs) I'm calling Homer.
HOMER: Marge! This isn't a food restaurant! It's a meth restaurant! (gunshots) A meth-taurant! Aah! (gasps) Foodies, help me! My husband's in danger! Oh, we can't leave now.
We haven't had the root vegetables cooked in the perfect vacuum of outer space.
They say you can't even understand parsnips until you had zero-g parsnips.
(groans) How dare you walk out on me! Your dessert is in this doggie bag woven from the silk of a blueberry-fed spider.
Take it and go! (sirens whooping) Ah, shucks.
We get the family dressed up to go to our favorite meth lab, and it's all raided out.
(children groaning) Oh, honey, I always liked your home-cooked better anyways.
Uh, where do you think you're going? A wife needs to tell her husband she was wrong.
And in you go.
(whimpering) Sorry.
Everything you've done here has created problems.
(grunting) (gasps) I've got to save him.
(gasps) Ooh.
My dessert.
Eat deconstructed apple pie! (grunts) (swallows) (sighs) Merci, Maman, pour la tarte tatin à la mode.
(sighs) Oh, Marge, you saved me from the danger you put me in.
I am so happy and angry.
I'm sorry.
I guess I just wanted the kids to look at me the way they look at you.
Wow, Mom! That was awesome.
We ate mad-scientist food and broke up a meth lab in the same day.
Fun Mom! Fun Mom! Fun Mom! Now, that's my kind of foam.
This is nice.
A family fun day.
Here's 50 bucks.
For the next two hours, I don't want to know you exist.
(laughing) Family fun day.
We're bloggin' a food blog Settin' up accounts for our users Usin' computers Post tweets every day Yo, yo, tweets every day, y'all Never give it four stars Ain't never give it four stars Maybe two, maybe three Moderatin' the comments Checkin' the page views, page views, page views Duck fat Truffle oil, yo, yo, yo My food is art, my food is art It comes right from the heart.
Previous EpisodeNext Episode