The Simpsons s25e03 Episode Script

Four Regrettings And A Funeral

(exclaiming) (school bell ringing) (Barney belches) (tires screech) D'oh! (tires screeching) (grunts) (gentle orchestral music playing) (wind whistling) S-So lonely.
(raspy): No sex without a ring.
Damn it! (gentle orchestral music continues, giants laughing) (belches) (creaking) Mm.
What the?! Hey, whoa! (ghostly moaning) (crackling) What about us, man? Get your own couch.
(soft organ music playing) (organ music continues) Poor Chip.
Such a big part of everyone's life.
People called him the "sixth Simpson.
" I'm not sure why.
Chip did such a wonderful job with my biography.
(people murmuring) Chip was the life of Sector 6-F at the nuclear plant, but Chip once confessed to me he did have a few regrets.
(all gasp) Chip regretted never ascending Mount Springfield from the south face.
He regretted that the high school long jump record he set was wind-aided.
He often spoke of that asterisk.
He never broke par on hole 17 at Springfield Mini Golf.
(organ music resumes) Let us pray.
Eh, everyone has regrets.
Not me.
You? Your marriage is a dead fish floating in a tank of stale beer.
Your baby's addicted to pacifiers.
And your son is out of control.
Let us kneel.
(pained groans) Ow! My knees! (cackling) He's such a little dickens.
Although Dickens was pretty well behaved.
He's been screwed up since the moment Homer's DNA staggered into your womb.
I have no regrets about that.
It was a perfect pregnancy.
Didn't smoke, didn't drink, lost three pounds.
And every night before bed, Homer would give me a little kiss music! (gasps) Could Bart have been prenatally screwed up by the KISS music? Get up! Everybody's gonna move their feet Get down! Everybody's gonna leave their seats You got to lose your mind in Detroit Rock City.
Huh? Man, this is the weirdest pregnancy craving ever.
Well, for some reason it relaxes me.
Now, do that thing Gene Simmons does.
Overstay my welcome for 40 years? (whistling a tune) KENT BROCKMAN: Regrets, eh? This local newsman's had a few.
Covering a town of backwater rubes who, for some reason, hate my guts.
This is Kent Brockman (sighs) live at the Springfield Peach Parade.
Sir, could you give us eight seconds of your homespun wisdom? It's a little-known fact that you can get head lice from peaches.
Uh, this is my daughter Peaches.
(sighs) We'll have more regrets at 11:00 tonight following an all-new bottle of scotch.
HOMER (scoffs): You have regrets, Mr.
"I Get to See the Weathergirl From the Side"! I made the worst financial decision of all time.
Oh, I can't think about it.
I won't think about it.
I don't want to think about it! Oh, I'm thinking about it! Mm Hmm.
Huh? (shudders): Oh that's the coolest bowling ball I've ever seen.
Hello, Bear Stearns? I'd like to sell all my Apple stock so I can buy a fancy bowling ball.
You heard me.
Technology is a fad.
Heavy, black balls are the future.
Now let us text on our ubiquitous Apple tablets and phones.
(keys clicking) Oh, you cost me a piece of all that! Oh, don't cry.
If it makes you feel worse, I'm the man who bought the stock you sold.
I'll bet a rich man like you has no regrets at all.
Just one.
The girl that got away.
She broke my first heart.
So, is there truly anyone among us without regrets? I have no regrets.
Really, Mother? Oh, I didn't see you there.
(Irish accent): I'm Father O'Greedy.
Dimes for the needy.
(Milhouse chuckles) Milhouse, are you the bottom half of that mischief? MILHOUSE: Uh uh uh Oh, my.
My pants, like the Lord, work in mysterious ways.
Return those vestments.
Speaking of return on investments, my Apple stock is up 3,500%.
Aw, you misheard that on purpose! (grunting) Tithe denied! Tithe denied! Mm.
Must find way to blame myself.
Um, it says I should give you lumbar support.
Better go to the lumber yard.
"Lum- bar.
" It means "lower back.
" How many times will you make that mistake? (groans) Just put on the KISS record.
Which one? Anything from Love Gun.
Hey, book, are you expecting this? And while I'm at it Burn, dumb, helpful books.
That is a good fire.
(grunting) (pants) You're going down, Bart! (grunts, groans) Why? Ah, reckless youth.
He'll be okay.
I was referring to him.
I had a spring in my step like that once.
Back when I met Lilah.
Lilah ran a little crepe stand in the seventh arrondissement.
Oh, Monty, looking at you, I could lie in this unheated garret forever.
There's heat.
I just don't turn it on.
Seeing you there, in the sweet light of Paris between the wars, there's a question I must pose.
I have something for you.
Oh! Not that.
(chuckles) (grunts) (bubbling) (chuckles) Wrong box.
Lilah, will you take that big step from cousin to wife? (gasps) Oh, Monty, you must promise me one thing.
Anything she wanted I was willing to do.
Anything, except All I ask is that you set aside five minutes a day to think of others.
When you say "others," could they be bars of gold? (crying): I shall find another husband as good as you are evil.
No one's that good.
(sobbing) All I have left is my drawing.
It looked a lot better in my memory.
Uh, but you know what, Smithers? I will find Lilah and win her back.
I'll just check with the old gang.
Hemingway! Picasso.
Matador Juan Belmonte.
And Stalin.
That man could really put pressure on you.
Hello, Kent.
Well, well, well.
Rachel Maddow.
Everyone came back for Chip's funeral.
I was flying from DC to New York and, of course, I had the layover in Springfield.
How's the gang at Channel 6? Look, let's get this out of the way-- just because we both worked at Channel 6 and you made it big and I didn't doesn't mean I'm bitter.
Um, Is that your car? Maybe.
Kent, I'm gonna tell you the most important mistake you ever made after this break.
So, Kent, that mistake you made, that fundamental, life-changing error, that cosmic fail, that Just tell me already! After this break.
You could have come with me, but you were suckling the dual teats of infotainment and celebrifawning.
(upbeat theme plays) So, tell us about your new movie.
It's fantastic.
The studio let us play in their sandbox.
We have a clip.
No! No, don't show it.
There aren't five good seconds in the whole film.
(car door closes, tires screeching) I'm not a newsman anymore, I'm a geologist.
I keep discovering a new rock bottom.
Kent, I think I found my ticket out of this town.
Or at least to a better Springfield.
You two newshounds working on a story? How about this? Mario's down the street found a rat in their pasta.
When did that happen? Whenever you want.
Eh? Rachel, can I come? We can share blazers.
Just follow me.
At Mario's, the picture of Sinatra on the wall is signed by Frank Junior.
The frame hides the "Junior"! Someone's been dumping tires in the forest.
Willikers! In my three years of soft news, I've never seen anything like this.
Those are tires from my ill-fated Krusty Town Car.
It would explode if people gripped the wheel too tightly.
(laughs): What a scoop! You're not telling no one.
As the 4:00 p.
clown, I have complete control of the Channel 6 news division.
Local news is a joke.
I'm going to cable.
Cable news! Bah! People only want news at 6:00 p.
from white guys on weekdays and black guys on weekends.
We'll see about that.
Yes, we shall see.
About that, things will be seen.
By us.
Kent, you coming? He ain't comin'.
This little piggy's afraid to leave his cushy anchorman slop trough.
Could you, uh, phrase that a little more nicely? Sorry.
He "isn't" coming.
You'll regret this, Kent.
When I have my own show and you're stuck here tracking Santa's flight from the North Pole.
"Oh, look, he's over Greenland!" Don't worry, piggy, you made the right choice.
Eh, it'll burn out in an hour or so.
Grunting as he lifts Bryce in the air.
Look, Burns, I've got the dope on your sweetie.
She's still alive, and she just got over being mad at you last week.
Lilah's alive? Yeah, well, uh, she's alive, but she's a nun.
Married to Jesus, eh? Does he beat her? Jesus? No, he's a real Eagle Scout, that one.
But your penguin's not a Catholic, she's a Buddhist nun-- spent her life expressing her sexuality with a Zen garden.
Those raked rocks could have been me.
Now, since you're so good at finding things, find the exit.
There is the little matter of my fee.
You're becoming very tiresome.
Who moved my desk?! Well, here I am.
Cable news alley.
(dog howls) Fox News.
Is this really how I want to get back in the big leagues? Let's see how print journalism is doing.
Sir, do you sell The New York Times? Sir, we are The New York Times.
And in I go.
Why are you doing this, Bart? He's gonna visit my sky granny.
To work at Fox News, all you have to be able to do is operate this device.
Now, when a Republican is in trouble At the time, I didn't know it was illegal to sex up a cow on the Capitol steps.
we simply do this.
Now you try.
Sorry, but I just discovered I have some scruples.
I'm going back to my sweet little town where I can decide what news is.
Like a god.
We've had some good times.
Memories Rest between the pages of my mind Memories See me through the ages just like wine And you sat on the gas pedal when my foot fell asleep, so I'm getting you shined up nice.
What the? Oh! That's a ball-proof window, sir.
Would you like me to ask Siri for a nearby hospital? SIRI: I'm sorry, I don't see any "hops petals" near you.
Deleting all contact information.
No, no, I didn't ask you to do that, Siri.
I Delete confirmed.
BART (groans): Oh.
Okay, Bart, be cool.
Calm down, you're not gonna die up here.
(indistinct chatter) (whooping, gunfire) (yells, whimpers) Aw D'oh! Oh, Monty, I can't believe you found me after all these years.
I've saved myself for you.
Well, then, uh (nervous chuckle) I should disrobe at once.
Housekeeping? Send up a Chinese dressing screen and one of Firestone's finest vulcanized prophylactics.
Be right back.
(laughs softly) Smithers? Which do I take first, the rhino horn or the tiger tongue? I have my doubts about both, sir.
Bah! I'll just do it the old-fashioned way.
With my pump.
(engine sputtering) (sputtering continues) (chuckles): Just powdering my nose, darling.
(engine continues sputtering) Smithers, run down to Sears, Roebuck and get a five-eighths-inch Phillips head bolt.
(tires screech) (sighs) Here I am, slowly dying every day at 5:00, 6:00 and 11:00.
BART: Help! Help! Child in danger with exciting visuals! This kid's corpse could be my magic carpet.
Get me a cameraman! The movie Up has come horribly to life over Springfield.
A local boy clings to life in a story that proves this reporter's relevance.
BART: Ay, caramba! (gasps) It's Bart! Pray for a miracle, boy.
God can hear you better from up there.
Dear Lord, please help me land safely.
Or transform this basket into a flying killer robot that I control with my mind.
That's not a prayer.
My God says it is.
Oh, I see you're ice-cold with anticipation.
Dead? Oh, Lilah.
Even at the end, I waited too long.
What if I give her the breath of life? (soft exhale) Oh, boy.
I guess one regret just leads to another.
You know, sir, maybe it would bring you peace to honor the one thing Lilah ever asked of you.
Here you are, my good man.
A little broth will cure your mental illness.
(chuckles) Sir, that's five minutes.
You can stop thinking of other people now.
You know what, I think I'll give it another five.
I'm proud of you, Monty.
(kissing) I ain't eatin' that.
Chief, what are you doing to save our son? Well, I've placed marksmen on the roof to shoot the balloons one by one, but frankly they're not very good.
(gunshot) (grunts) (whining): Chief, it happened again.
Aw, come on, guys, spread out.
Arm's length.
It's all my fault.
I should never have listened to those KISS albums when I was pregnant.
Marge, with all due respect, that's ridiculous.
My Sarah listened to Mozart and Churchill speeches when she was pregnant with Ralphie, and he can't even open a refrigerator.
Pushing, always always pushing.
Really? Oh, yeah.
That kid's a mess.
Hey! Only I get to criticize him, Lou.
Kid's scared to flush.
Think's it's his brother.
Can we focus on my son up in the sky? Oh, I've got a long-shot idea.
By which I mean firing a shot over a long distance.
(chuckling) Yeah, you see, if we could fire an exactly 12-and-a-half-pound weight into the basket, it would lower the boy very gently to the ground.
Unfortunately, all our cannonballs were melted down to make a statue of Joe Paterno, which we changed to look like Eugene Levy.
I think I just might have what you're looking for.
Today I'm glad that I sold that stock.
Uh, Apple closed up another 20 points today.
(whining): Why does everyone know? Because their terrific products keep track of it for you.
And anything else you could ever think of.
That kid's not dying on my watch.
Which ends right now, fortunately.
(hums a tune) (whimpers) CROWD (chanting): Bart! Bart! Bart! Bart! Bart! Bart! (laughing): Hey.
CROWD: Bart! Bart! Hmm.
(yells) Homer's rising faster than Apple stock.
(laughter) (Homer yells, grunts) My boy's okay! CROWD (chanting): Bart! Bart! Bart! I won the science fair! I get to go to Chicago! CROWD: Bart! Bart! Bart! Ugh.
Bart, Bart, Bart.
You know what I think about regrets? As long as your family is together, every choice you've ever made is the right one.
And together we are.
(gunshot) Would you guys knock it off? He's down safe already.
(gunshot) MAN: Sorry, Chief, that was me putting it down.
And there you have it-- a family reunited.
And a grateful nation gives thanks for some solid reporting.
Back to you, Rachel Maddow.
Great job, Kent.
I think we might have an opening for you at MSNBC between our weekend prison documentary block and the two hours it takes to make up Joe Scarborough on Monday morning.
(chuckles): No, thanks, Rachel Maddow.
I'm happy right here.
No regrets.
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