The Simpsons s29e02 Episode Script

Springfield Splendor

1 - (eerie music playing) - (clicking) (gasps) 34, 35 37? No! Oh, I have to go all the way around again.
(grunting) (shouting) (panting) I had the locker dream again.
Oh, honey, that's four nights in a row.
Stupid recurring dreams.
Why can't brains come up with something new? That's why they're losing viewers to Netflix.
(snores) Maybe I should talk to a therapist.
Sweetie, our insurance won't pay for any more sessions.
Your father used them all up on grief counseling after the Halloween candy ran out.
I've come to accept that we were lucky to have it while we did.
(sniffles) But I know a cheap place where you can see the therapists of tomorrow today.
Behold, Springfield Community College, where the students practice on you! I only paid a student dentist $12 for this brand-new crown.
See? I don't think it's supposed to come out.
That's why I paid a student paralegal to sue him.
I lost! - (tooth clattering) - (humming) (school bell rings) - Oh, yarr.
- HOMER: Mm.
Yarr! Yarr.
(gulps) TV must be a circle! Ow! Ow, ow, ow! Give him the full flea dip and deluxe under-worming.
I'm not a dog.
And I've been worm-free for two weeks! You better muzzle him.
He's a biter.
(grunting) My name is Annette, and I'm a therapist-in-training.
I'm also a mother-to-be, so I know there's nothing more beautiful than a child's feelings.
You sound so caring and professional.
(quietly): When do I give you the seven dollars? There's a shoebox by the door.
(school bell rings) So what does my locker dream mean? Am I stressed about school? I mean, schools are full of lockers.
Hey, who's the almost-therapist here? (Lisa whimpers) Huh.
Hmm.
Oh.
Ooh.
Huh.
Mm.
You know, I think you might benefit from art therapy.
Ooh! Draw in these empty panels to tell the story of a typical day in the life of you, Sophia Barnum.
Huh? Once again, learn the patient's name.
Sorry, Professor.
Lisa Simpson.
Excellent.
Continue.
Your light's still on.
LISA: Art therapy.
Okay, draw a typical day.
(humming) Ugh! Horrible! It looks like it was drawn by an eight-year-old! (blows) (humming forcefully) Ugh! Oh, boy, I can't wait to take you to the park.
The other owners will be so jealous.
You're not my owner.
Uh, I kinda am.
- (Lisa shouts) - (erasing sounds) - (shouts) - (erasing sounds) (shouts) (Bart whimpering) Mmm.
(grunting) MARGE: Mm.
I'm hearing a lot of feelings in here.
You're hearing them because I am not drawing them! Aw, sweetie, drawing is tricky.
But you just need to start with something simple, like people.
Those are people.
Ooh.
(grunts) It's easy, honey.
Add some eyelashes here, some crosshatching to show shadow, vary the line width here to accent the outline, - and voilà! - (gasps) That's great! Now in the next panel, I want her to be looking out a window, wondering if she'll ever get out from under the weight of her own expectations.
Well, I could make the eyebrows come down in a "V.
" LISA: That says it all.
(Marge grunts) Hey, Mom, what if I told you the things I was feeling and you drew them? Okay.
But I'm warning you, I'm not good at drawing turtle feet.
So if there are any turtles in this, they're gonna be wearing sneakers.
Deal.
It starts with the story of a regular day (jazz playing) - - (groans softly) Gosh, I forgot how hard school can be for a sensitive kid.
It's miserable.
But you captured my feelings perfectly! (horn honks) Annette, wait till you see my art therapy! You're gonna love it, too.
Please try to pretend I'm not here.
Okay, Stephen.
(humming) Hey, where did it go? Best marriage counseling ever.
But we still need to discuss your addiction to unboxing videos.
Do not make me choose between you and unboxing.
Manga! (speaking Japanese) It's been a week, and I still can't find my therapy comic.
I'd be just mortified if even one person saw my private thoughts - (gasps) - Oh! (groans) Mom, can I have permission to swear? Okay, as long as it's a tier one.
Damn it! That didn't work.
Can I go to tier two? - I'm afraid not.
- Damn it! And with that seal cut, we have completed the unboxing of the outer shipping plastic.
Indeed we have.
(door opens, bell jingles) You published my private art therapy as a comic book? Um, actually, it's a graphic novel.
The distinctions are threefold - Shut up! - Okay then.
Um, in my defense, my wife did it.
Kumiko, how could you? I have acted shamefully.
I must commit furry cosplay.
(grunting) Ooh! There's nothing sexy about shame! Except in my native Japan, where it's our whole thing.
Mr.
and Mrs.
Book Guy, you had no right to do this! These are my daughter's feelings.
And my doodles.
I shall burn them on a pyre and disperse them to the seven winds.
That's all I ask.
(door opens, bell jingles) LISA: Hmm? One Sad Girl, please.
Sad Girl's the best! It's tragically delicious! Wait! Maybe this isn't so bad.
(chuckles) (gasping) My Lulus! (indistinct chatter) Ooh, there she is.
Ask for her autograph.
You ask her, man.
I'm freakin' out.
Wow, Lisa, our cartoon book seems to have really captured the What's that word I'm looking for? Zeitgeist! Oh, hi, Mel! Say hi to Barbara for me.
I'm not your messenger boy! (crickets chirping) What's so great about graphic novels? They're just comic books with no superheroes and no cool sound effects like "Thwam!", "Ack-ack-ack-ack!", - and "Fwwwip!" - Snag! (chuckles) Lisa, Kumiko called.
She sold all her copies and wants us to make a sequel! That's like a prequel but in the future.
What do you say, sweetie? Do you have more sad in you? I've got scads of sad! Oh, no, not again There they go With pad and pen Collaboration Ooh, collaboration Collaboration Collaboration.
Okay, now draw me overhearing the other girls talking about how they're not gonna invite me to a birthday party.
Like this? LISA: Fantastic! Now let's take a little break.
And you know what that means.
Hot Sharpie! Hot Sharpie! - Hot Sharpie! - Hot Sharpie! - Hot Sharpie! - Hot Sharpie! (grunts) (Lisa and Marge laugh) - You almost got me! - How come we never bond like that? I don't know, you never make the first move.
Okay.
There is something I've always wanted to do with you.
("The Andy Griffith Show" theme playing) Hey, those guys stole our fishing poles! And my skipping stones! (grunting) - (shouting) - (theme continues) (raccoon trilling) (indistinct chatter) Welcome to "Chicks with Pix," a panel discussion with women writers and artists.
I'm your moderator, Roz Chast.
You may know my New Yorker cartoons that are both funny ha-ha and funny aha.
(laughter) Silence! Joining me today are Alison Bechdel; Marjane Satrapi; and the creators of Sad Girl, Lisa Simpson (cheering and applause) We love you, Lisa! And Marge Simpson.
(scattered applause) FAN GIRL: We're wasting time! Marjane, as the author of Persepolis and someone who grew up in a repressive regime, what advice would you offer to young women? Always remember nothing is more valuable than your own unique voice.
Also, when they promise you a tote bag for doing a panel, make sure it's not just a reusable grocery bag.
Look at this.
Alison Bechdel, recently, a lot of people have been talking about the Bechdel Test.
Exactly what kind of drinking game is that? Actually, it's just an observation I made about how movies and TV rarely show two women talking about something other than a man.
That's so interesting.
I'll have to tell my husband about that.
(booing) (buzzer sounds) MAN (over speaker): Bechdel Test: Fail! - Bechdel, Bechdel - (whistle blows) Bechdel, fail! Fail! - Fail.
- (whistle blows) Okay.
We have five minutes before we have to clear the room for the "White Men in Comics" panel.
I have a question for Lisa.
I have a question for Lisa with a follow-up for Lisa.
I want to talk about myself for a few minutes, then at the end, pretend it was all a question for Lisa.
Does anyone have any questions for my mom? She does draw every panel.
Yeah, I have a question for Marge.
How lucky are you to work with Lisa? AUDIENCE (chanting): Lisa! Lisa! Lisa! MAN: Lisa win! Marge fail.
(pencil scratching) Honey, I was thinking.
What if we did a chapter from the mom's point of view? I took a stab at writing it up.
Give it a read.
In front of you? Um, okay.
Mmm.
(groans) (chuckles) What are you laughing at? You left out a word here, so it just says, "I lonely.
" So should I start drawing it? Well, there's a lot of great stuff here.
Really? Because that's what I was going for.
But I'm not sure this is a Sad Girl thing.
Maybe it's a separate book and I could write the forward.
Oh, I get it.
This isn't a real collaboration at all.
You agree with those girl fanboys.
You think it's all about you.
Hey, you can't blame me if people want to focus on my contribution.
I can and I do.
I hate to say it, Mom, but maybe we should take a break.
Good idea.
Hot Sharpie.
No.
I mean, maybe we should take a real break.
- You mean? - That's right.
I want to see other illustrators.
- (Homer grunts) - (Marge growls) - I don't even know how you could - Stupid Lisa.
- Say that.
It's my vision.
- She's acting like a real B.
Ladies, there's someone here to see you.
(slurping) My name is Guthrie Frenel, visionary theatrical director and impish genius.
And I want to make Sad Girl into a smash Broadway show.
(gasps) I think he came in through the window.
- (laughing): Oh, tubby, you're a delight.
- (Homer whimpers) You want to make Sad Girl into a stage musical? If I may borrow a phrase from my father, woo-hoo! This is all very exciting, but before we go any further And I ask this just for clarification - What's your deal, weirdo? - Dad.
Guthrie Frenel is a visionary director and an impish genius.
He did a version of Waiting for Godot - where Godot appears in the first scene.
- What? And that was nothing compared to my vision for Sad Girl.
I want to do something new and amazing, like my all-dog version of Cats.
But I need something from you.
- Anything.
- I need your passion.
I need your joy.
Are we all together for this three-person toboggan ride down Mount Collabor-manjaro? Well, Lisa and I did just have a little spat.
Yeah, but conflict is part of the creative process, right? Not in my experience! So are you in? - Yes.
- Absolutely.
Oh, this is gonna take hours.
(grunting) Bart, there's one thing I know about Broadway shows, they always make money.
So I'm already looking forward to quitting my job.
Can I quit school? I'd be a pretty lousy dad if I said no.
It's our duty as artists to rip up the contract between audience and performers.
Cell phones will be turned on.
Candy will be unwrapped during the show.
We'll hire performance artists to make the line for the ladies room extra long.
(grunts) Um, how closely are we gonna stick to the story from my graphic novel? Oh, yes, story.
All the gimmicky stagecraft in the world ain't worth a tinker's damn without a compelling human story at the center.
Your story, the unique expression - of your heart and soul - Mm-hmm.
Will be neatly summed up - in the narrator's first speech.
- Huh? Once that's out of the way, we can explore the dazzling visual buffet of Marge Simpson.
Now feast.
(chomping) Pass the wonderment, please, but save room for the Tonys.
Oh, my God.
It's just how I drew it.
It's your artistic vision writ large.
Or should I say, writ Marge? You should.
He really shouldn't.
(gasps) MARGE: It's all in my style.
Mom, he's ignoring my story and making this all about your drawings.
I know.
(sighs) I'm sorry, Lisa.
But I can't help it if he wants to focus on the visual part of (gasps) Oh, my God.
It's Bart and Grampa.
But they aren't even in my book.
And where am I? Where is Sad Girl? Sad Girl will be represented by a voiceless red light projected into an empty seat in the balcony.
Bold, no? But how will they know it's supposed to be me? - Storytelling.
- (screaming) LISA: Ugh.
That impish genius is really cheesing me off.
All he's kept from Sad Girl is Mom's drawings, when it's supposed to be about my writing and my feelings.
Oh, I'm so sick of children's feelings.
"Feed me.
" "Burp me.
" "Don't sleep for six years.
" You're forgetting the boundary between patient and therapist.
And you're forgetting that you did this to me! Let me tell you something, Lisa.
When you give birth to something, you have no control over what it turns into.
All you can do is surrender to the nightmare.
(laughing): Sorry.
I'm just so happy.
(laughing, then crying) Never do this.
MARGE: Here they are.
The official Sad Girl: The Theater Experience T-shirts.
$45 in the lobby, of which we keep $1.
35.
Oh, baby, we can use that money to buy a sailboat with a double-ended spinnaker pole.
- (whistles) - Oh, ho-ho.
Looks good.
I like it.
I like everything.
Really? You seemed a little cheesed off earlier.
A mother notices.
Mom, Sad Girl was like our baby.
And you can't control what your kid turns into.
If it becomes a successful show, that'll be good for our family.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go sit on a swing alone.
- Oh, okay.
- (door closes) Hello, Coast Guard? Get ready to search for my body in about a month.
Mm-hmm.
Uh-huh.
(gasps) Oh.
(indistinct chatter) (instruments warming up) - So you're okay with this? - Sure.
It's an honor to have something based on your life.
Even if it's nothing like your life at all.
Sad Girl (woman screams) What the hell does any of this mean? What? You don't get this? It's so stimulating and I love it.
(screams) - What is that?! - (growling): D'oh! (cheering) Uh, Guthrie, is it possible we strayed a skoosh too far from what Lisa's book is about? Marge, this isn't You're A Good Man, Charlie Brown.
Or even my production of You're A Good Man, Charlie Brown, set in a doomed Soviet submarine.
This is avant-garde theater, and it is electric.
(mimics electricity zapping) Okay, I guess.
Oh, Lisa.
I'm so sorry.
Hmm.
(grunts) There, honey.
Now you're back in our show.
What the? That's not one of my brain babies.
(light squeaking) Ah! Ow.
(alarmed chatter) Ah! Which one of us is me? (alarmed cries) - (explosion) - (screaming) Run for your cultural lives! I'm haunted my visions of Milhouse.
Ah! (indistinct chatter) (marker squeaking) (slurping) And now to read the reviews.
"Greatest" I like where this is going.
"disaster in theater history.
" Oh, those sons of Bs.
Honey, I'm sorry I let Guthrie make the play all about my drawings, and also terrible.
And I'm sorry I wasn't more open to your creative input.
I blame both of you for this disaster.
More wine! I've got another project for us to collaborate on.
Getting your dad in a cab.
Hello, Coast Guard? I'm gonna live.
- (upbeat piano music playing) - - (saxophone solo playing) - Well, I still think it's good.