The Simpsons s34e16 Episode Script

Hostile Kirk Place

So weird.
- So, can I stay for dinner?
- No.
And they'll toot their horn-honkers
to proclaim its renown.
But there's one tale the townsfolk
won't brag of or bray.
It's what happened on Springfield's
dum-dummiest day.
Ach! The grid is overloaded.
But who and how and where and what for?
Ach! Eek!
Loch! Ewan!
My precious grid.
One more daft device and she'll explode.
Dear God, to mitigate the smell
of emulsified eggs and vinegar,
we'll have to close
the school for weeks.
- Yay!
- Awesome.
- That's great!
- All right!
You clearly misheard me.
I said the school will be closed.
And we said, "woo-hoo," "awesome,"
and "that's great."
You're watching SportsCenter Classic.
Stay tuned for more exciting
baseball scores from 1986.
I was two years old then.
Or was I 30?
Stressed out from IRS troubles?
Irreversible Mortgage?
Chockaholic's Foot,
formerly known as diabetes?
I can make those stresses disappear
like a shattered backboard.
Late-night commercial
legend Shaquille O'Neal?
You need Tightie Mighties,
the compression
underwear with the proven
nerve-soothing properties
of copper wire.
Operators are standing by.
It's a slam dunk.
That's the best kind of dunk.
For crying out loud.
I said no more buying junk
from late-night ads on basic cable.
Look at all this stuff.
Unkinkable garden hoses,
squatty potties.
Why do you need the world's
most powerful flashlight?
It has the most lumens.
These late-night cable
hucksters are getting rich
off gullible people like you.
Oh, no, you're right.
I'm as stupid as the guy
who couldn't make spaghetti
before he bought the Spaghetti Samurai.
Dad, wake up.
Get up, dummy.
This is our classroom
until our school
doesn't smell like eggs.
Every half-assed parent's nightmare.
First law of robotics:
you suck.
Okay, so, if I have $500 in the bank,
and your mother wants
to take two-thirds of it
to buy a purse, when her old purse
is just fine
You? $500 in the bank?
What are you teaching him,
science fiction?
No, real fiction, Luann.
It's real fiction.
Okay, class,
it's time for our unit
on Springfield history.
Ooh, more pumpkin stickers for me.
I still got room for one
more between my toes.
"Chapter four:
a Great Endeavor."
Today, we christen
the Great Springfield Gazebo,
wherein romance-minded gentlemen
the world over may come
to court their intendeds.
This grand new structure
shall make Springfield
the woo-pitching capital of America.
Gentlemen, start your ukuleles.
I will always ♪
Be true ♪
Spend my days ♪
Pitching woo ♪
To you ♪
Oh, God, oh, dear God, um,
we didn't account for
the harmonic frequency
of the wooing. It's too romantic!
Please, I beg you, stop making love
in the old-timey sense as
we understand it today.
Not a moment I'll rue ♪
As I serenade you ♪
My sweet ♪
Mary Lou. ♪
Glory turned to fiasco
for the disgraced Mayor of Springfield,
Eustace Van Houten.
Aw, soup crackers.
- Charlatan!
- Mountebank!
Dad, was he one of our relatives?
Yeah, he was
your great-great-grandfather.
Not so great, I guess.
So, the Van Houtens
have always been losers.
Not true, son. Hey, your granddad
once prepared a Caesar
salad for Dean Martin,
right at the table.
Fine, Dad. I'm gonna go to Phys Ed.
We're doing swimming today.
My life is hard enough,
now I find out that the
school is teaching my son
that every one of his
ancestors is a loser.
I bought so many stupid
useless products.
Pretzel Straightener, Face Bidet,
Spray-on Music.
I'm financially ruined,
and it's all his fault.
Now your belly button can
live the lint-free lifestyle
with the Navel Vac.
And she'll like it, too.
She didn't.
Shaq, you suckered me again.
Hey, hey, hey.
I will not have you badmouthing
Shaquille Rashaun O'Neal.
Four-time NBA champ,
rapper, actor, sheriff,
restaurateur, black belt in Shaq-Fu,
Shaq belt in kung fu,
and now the Big Aristotle dominates
the late-night airwaves.
He is living proof that anybody
can make their dreams come true.
You're right. If I could just
think of one thing to sell
that nobody needs and everybody wants,
I could pay off my bills
and be a super-success like Shaq.
And you, Big Milhouse, stop whining.
Somebody calls your family a loser,
you stand up for yourself.
I will.
On behalf of the school board,
I declare
school is officially reopened.
Let the free childcare and
intermittent learning resume.
I'm here to officially
protest the teaching
of the Great Springfield
Gazebo Disaster.
It makes our children hate our town
and me hate myself.
The Gazebo Disaster?
But we plan to tread water
on that unit for months.
We're doing two weeks
on the substandard metal bracing alone.
Not anymore.
I demand that you ban
Critical Brace Theory now.
Sir, we're not changing our curriculum
just to shore up the
wet cardboard lean-to
that is your family self-esteem.
Then you leave me one choice.
Until you meet my demands,
I'm going to play this trumpet, on which
I have no formal training.
- Aah!
- Mr. Van Houten, if we,
uh, if we could just
Look, there's no need
for brass instruments.
For 30 years,
we've been pleading with parents
to get more involved.
What the hell were we thinking?
I know Kirk is angry,
but I'm a little worried this meeting
will go off the rails.
Marge, stop saying things.
I'm trying to think
of an amazing product
that can get us out of debt.
Uh um
Handgun Underpants? Mm, no.
Uh, Bucket in a Box?
Spoon 2.0? Steak Bedazzler?
Yes, we are all here
because one lone parent raised an issue
that he thinks is worth me missing
the new Equalizer starring
that delightful Queen Latifah.
Kirk! You, regrettably,
have the floor.
We need to stop teaching
that my great-grandfather's
gazebo was a disaster.
But it was, and it was his fault.
His dying words were, "My bad."
So? Why can't our kids learn
about things that make our town proud?
Like, how if you want
to make a right on red,
it's usually not a problem.
Why do we have to
focus on the bad stuff?
We completely disagree.
It's essential that all of
Springfield's darkest chapters
be taught: the monorail,
Lady Gaga's visit,
and the gazebo collapse.
If our kids aren't made to
feel ashamed of the past,
how will they learn to
be ashamed of the future?
Look at my son.
You think he needs to
feel worse about himself
than he already clearly does?
You are doing this to him!
I agree with the bald lady.
Why does history have to be hurtful?
Every book about World War II
makes the Germans the bad guys.
Stop teaching facts!
Historical guilt is everything.
You snowflakes are hurting our feelings.
Those who cannot remember the past
are condemned to repeat it.
On the other hand,
those who cannot remember the past
are condemned to repeat it.
People, people, people! People.
We are not going to settle this tonight.
I move that we end this meeting
with everyone angry and dissatisfied.
All in favor?
Wonderful. It's unanimous.
- Mm.
- Dad, I know this is a weird thing
for a son to say to his father,
but I'm proud of you.
You actually convinced people.
I did?
You the man, Kirk.
- I am?
- No, you the my man.
This marriage may have
just got un-sexless.
It's so sad when people can't get along.
It causes upsetment.
Marge, people need to disagree
and have their voice shouted over.
That's what democracy was.
Remember that?
But everyone in this
country is so divided.
Where will all this hostility lead?
I'll tell you where it leads, Homer.
Straight to the bank the money bank.
- This is the idea you've been looking for.
- It is?
What's the one thing every
American has in common?
They're furious all the time
about everything.
Now, think
how can you make money from that?
I know just what to do.
Hurry up, everyone!
My thing's coming on.
The thing I never told you about.
Are you full of anger
at your kids' school
or at life in general?
You know it.
Well, now you can express
your scalding hot rage
with the light-up "Me-Shirt."
Why, that's so obnoxious. I love it.
The Me-Shirt has dozens
of snappy slogans
tailor-made for your recently-acquired
but deeply-held views.
"Never Remember,"
"The Truth Will Make You Sad,"
and "Don't Teach on Me."
Plus, the copper-infused
fiber that powers the lights
gives you more energy
and pushes all the blood to your face.
- I'll never look not angry again.
Wow, Dad, way to milk the rage-bucks
out of the red hat crowd.
Well, I found it appalling.
We have a shirt for you, too.
Oh, hi there. You caught me wearing
my carbon-neutral light-up shirt
with progressive slogans like:
"Shame On Us," "I Know Best,"
and "Who farted? All the cows
raised by the beef industry!"
That's despicable.
Though that fart slogan
makes a good point.
You're pitting people
against each other.
Lisa, that's what the T-shirt
industry has always done,
ever since "I'm With Stupid."
Now, Daddy's just giving
"stupid" a chance to respond.
Ooh! They're responding.
Tell me who you hate and
I'll get it right out to you.
Yeah, I-I just want to say one thing
to your millions and
millions of viewers:
I'm being silenced!
In all this discord,
if there's one thing
that can bring us all together,
it's the holidays.
I don't know. The Christmas spirit
just feels different this year.
- Nice shirt.
- Go to hell.
Stop the celebration!
Oh, for the love of nog,
these loonies again?
Yeah, and we won't stop looning
until you stop teaching that
the gazebo was a disaster.
But people died.
That's why I'm an orphan.
Oh, this guy's a crisis actor.
How come every bad thing
seems to conveniently happen to him?
Aah! Aah!
We must never forget the gazebo,
the victims who lost their lives,
and the suitors who lost their ukuleles.
There's a story that
goes of the big gazebo ♪
That fell down one
breezy June Sunday ♪
The mayor, it's said ♪
Had rocks in his head ♪
And he went by the
name of Van Houten ♪
My history!
My choice!
Our gazebo was "noice!"
Please, please, everyone.
It's the holidays.
Can't we just find common
ground and compromise?
I mean, the one thing
both sides can agree on
is that we all care about our kids,
Marge, you are so right,
but there's only one
side that I'm afraid
will burn this whole
godforsaken town to the ground.
Burn it!
Stop teaching the damn gazebo collapse.
Mr. Mayor, my whole career,
I have fought tirelessly to
Damn it, Gary, it's just one thing.
Fine. Who gives a crap?
Wow. I actually won something.
Let's get ready
to meddle!
Oh. I'm getting a sick
feeling in my stomach.
Oh, don't worry so much, honey.
People just want to
feel proud of our town.
And remember,
I'm still on the school board,
so I can be a guardrail
to keep Kirk's worst impulses in check.
I mean, how bad can it be?
Wow, I can't believe all this happened
in only three weeks.
So the people surrendered
to Van Houten's wishes,
and his face was on everything,
even knishes.
But for Springfield, the outcome
was rather pernicious.
It's the Channel 6 News
with Kent Brockman.
Brought to you by Homer's
House of Copper-ganda,
your one-stop shop for
form-fitting Kirk-wear.
Good evening, and all hail Kirk.
Our top story:
The Springfield bookmobile
visits a local landmark,
which is getting a new name.
I re-christen thee
The Eternal Flame
of Redaction and Beauty.
You said you'd only burn half the books.
Half? No way.
This is all part of my plan
to turn eyesores into pride-sores.
I didn't sleep a wink.
I can fix that.
I'll adjust your copper number.
Homer, things are terrible in this town.
Kirk got a little bit
of power to control
what the kids learn and
he went cuckoo with it,
and we helped him.
I just really thought I could be
the grown-up in the room.
Yeah, 'cause that always works.
I've got to do something
to save Springfield
and I need you to help me.
Great idea. What's in it for me?
Homer, what does it profit a man
if he gains the world
but loses his soul?
Uh, he gains the world.
I got to put that on a shirt.
Hey there, great leader.
You're looking especially
non-repulsive today.
With great power comes great
"you have to like me."
Um, uh, e-excuse me.
Marge, my guardrail. Have a seat.
So, what's the good word?
And I only want good words.
Ugh. I know
you don't want to hear it, Kirk,
but our schools are a disaster.
Reading levels have plummeted
because there are no books
left for kids to read.
Sure, but those books were bummers.
They're not bummers,
they're the sum of human knowledge.
You can't base an entire
society on ignorance
and forgetting the past.
Marge, thank you
for telling me all this.
Top-notch guardrailing.
I know now this moment
calls for serious action.
Damn it.
So how about this gazebo?
It's twice as big as the original
which never existed.
I declare we have won the war
against history.
It's time to rock out
with your Kirk out.
The past never happened!
What is happening?
Uh, the electricity running through
everyone's copper T-shirts has created
a massive electrical field
and a full-fledged magnetic disturbance.
Dumb it down for us.
Well, I just did.
Soup crackers!
Attention, everyone.
We learned something
very important today.
You can try to ignore history,
but not science.
No matter how much we deny it,
science is real,
and we must not anger her.
And that became known as
Springfield's Craziest, Kirkiest,
Stupidest, Bloopidest Day.
How dare you teach that
horrible story to my child.
There's a story
that goes of the big gazebo ♪
That fell down one
breezy June Sunday ♪
The mayor, it's said ♪
Had rocks in his head ♪
And he went by the
name of Van Houten ♪
The pitching of woo ♪
Was heartfelt and true ♪
And it raised all the fair ladies'
ardor ♪
But the braces gave way ♪
And the corpses, they say ♪
Stretched out to
Lake Gobedygooby ♪
This song of wrecked
steel and human ordeal ♪
Will go on for 20 more verses ♪
Gazebos are. ♪
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