The Simpsons s23e06 Episode Script

(excited chattering) Our journey begins when amazing creatures took their first steps.
It's so cute that all these children are excited to see their favorite dinosaurs.
(roaring) (screaming) (screeching) These aren't dinosaurs! Dinosaurs sing! (grunts) I want to go back in Mommy! (roaring) (panicked screaming) Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh! I paid $800 for five minutes! NARRATOR: The dinosaurs ruled the Earth for millions of years, until a massive asteroid collided with the Earth, bringing their reign to an end.
(crackling) (groaning) HOMER (singsongy): Ex-tinct! NARRATOR: So remember, take good care of the Earth, or we could suffer the same fate as the dinosaurs.
Ooh, kids, did you hear that lesson? How is that the lesson? The point of the dinosaurs is, no matter what we do, an asteroid's gonna wipe us out, so we should party hard and wreck the place! Yeah! Why should the asteroid have all the fun! (grunts) What? They've got a point.
(grunting) Gift shop! Gift shop! All right, you can each have one toy.
Lisa has a big toy.
No fair.
That means I get two small toys.
No fair.
This isn't big, it's medium! No fair! Then I get four small toys and Lisa gets No fair! All right, that's it! Forget it! No toys for anyone! Okay, Maggie gets a toy.
No fair! No fair! Choke on fossil poop! (screams) Hey, I know you.
(gasps) Wait! Wait! Come back! Dad, follow that dinosaur! I've waited my whole life to hear that.
(Homer panting) Triceratops head coming through! Stegosaurus back plates, used for either defense or control of body temperature, coming through! (panting) So tired.
Go on without me.
(groans) (sighs) (T.
rex mouth creaking) (Homer snoring) You're T.
R.
Francis! You wrote the Angelica Button books.
They're my favorite fantasy novels.
Um, yes, it's me, the creator of your beloved magical world, full of whimsy and, uh chapters.
Now, off you go.
Bye-bye, now.
But why are you working at a dinosaur show? And why did you run away from me? And how did Angelica get a new wand after Baron Mortdeath burned the Wandwood Forest? And Look, you seem like a smart kid, so here's the truth.
T.
R.
Francis isn't real.
(laughs): Of course you're real.
Everybody knows you got the idea for this series after an explosion at a crumpet factory knocked you off a double-decker bus.
How could that be made up? I'm just an actress they use for the jacket photo.
That inspirational life story is pure fiction.
Oh, I hate to break it to you, but all the books you kids love are conceived in executive boardrooms.
The plots are based on market research, and the pages are churned out by a room full of pill-popping lit majors desperate for work.
Publishers rake in the cash, and unsuspecting kids get ten books a year by their favorite "author.
" (gasps) Everything I believed about "young adult" literature is a lie! (sobbing) HOMER: It's not against the law to sleep in a Tyrannosaurus head.
Sir, you're inside an Allosaurus.
HOMER: I demand to speak to my paleontologist! Can I have my allowance Early? I need to buy some carbon-offset credits so I can burn all my Angelica Button books.
Oh, honey, I'm sorry your book lady turned out to be a dinosaur.
But you liked the stories when you read them.
So what does it matter? Doesn't it bother you that Betty Crocker is an invention of '20s-era ad men? I know you're hurting, but that's no reason to lash out at me.
Can you believe publishers would lie to their readers just to make an easy million bucks? A million bucks?! Every book on the "young adult" charts is written by five idiots who just want to take advantage of kids.
(gasps) I know five idiots! And they just cash their checks and get away with it every time.
It's the perfect crime.
As long as you don't mind betraying the trust of vulnerable young minds.
The perfect crime, eh? (video game weapon blasting) Whatever the job is, I'm not interested.
A million bucks has changed stupider minds than yours.
I like the beat, play me the tune.
We're taking down kids who read.
Chapter-book crowd? That's a juicy peach.
But what's the cream? I'm putting together a tween-lit gang-write.
- Tween-lit gang-write? - Tween-lit gang-write.
But this Babar needs a Zephyr.
A Zephyr? You're the Zephyr.
This better not turn out like Kansas City.
It won't be like Kansas City.
Come on, Skinner, you're the best kid-man in the business.
You've read their notes, searched their lockers-- you know how tweens think.
(chuckles) Oh, no, thanks, gentlemen, I've got a nice, quiet life here and I mean to keep it that way.
Your friends are looking at my bloomers! Wash 'em again! (groans) With your share of the money, you could get your own studio apartment.
The refrigerator could have my magnets on it.
I'm in.
Come on, beautiful, I can't do the job without you.
So, what do you say D'oh! Ow.
Our crew needs you, Bouvier.
You've read enough fantasy novels to choke a hippogriff.
PATTY: Mm It's true.
I'm fluent in every imaginary language, from Dothraki to Parseltongue.
(speaking Parseltongue) I wouldn't join one of your harebrained schemes for all the Japanese girlfriend pillows in Kyoto! We're not here for you, we're here for Lenny.
Sorry, guys.
I just adopted a capuchin monkey, and I can't leave it alone during the bonding phase.
Wait, wait, wait, I want in! What does your crew need, a safecracker? A-A wheel man? The caper is writing a kids' fantasy novel.
Well, I, uh, I don't like to brag about it, but I did publish five modestly successful children's books.
Hmm? All we need now is a computer guy.
Do you have a computer? (coughs) Uh, yes.
You're in.
In what? I keep going over the job from every angle, but I can't shake the feeling that we're missing something.
Relax.
With the team we put together, our book'll fly off the shelves, and we'll be sipping Mai Tais on a beach in Shelbyville.
You're group-writing a book? But the only reason anyone would ever do that is (gasps) (whispers): profit! Like no one ever writes for money, Lisa.
I don't see your boyfriend William Shakespeare missing too many meals.
I'll show you! I'll write a book myself! A personal story my readers will connect with.
Wait, you're gonna be all the guys? How would that work? (frustrated groan) This is how real writers do it.
I'll just bang out 2,000 words, and then I'll stop-- even if I'm on fire.
I got to pace myself.
(chuckles) Chapter one.
Wait.
I can't start without music to inspire me.
Why is Bach next to Muddy Waters? That's my problem-- I got to get these CDs organized.
(classical music playing) There.
Finished.
Now, if I win just two more games of online Boggle, I'll be ready to start writing.
Spot, stop, sop, top-tops, pot-pots, opt-opts Post! Okay, we've cased a lot of tween books.
What's their M.
O.
? The heroes are all orphans.
And they're set in a place kids relate to-- say a school-- but it's actually magic.
And the protagonist always discovers that he is supernatural.
Okay, our book will be about an orphan who goes to a magical school where he discovers he's a vampire! Vampires like these? HOMER: Huh? PATTY: Or those? HOMER: Huh? PATTY: Or these guys? HOMER: Huh?! (frustrated groans) So many vampires! With the fangs and the capes and the medals-- nobody knows how they earned them.
Hey, this job's falling apart.
Everyone head for a different airport, and we meet in Rio in a year with new faces.
(two gunshots) No one's going anywhere.
Okay? The vampire genre is sucked out.
All we got to do is find a new monster to be our hero.
KIDS: Aah! A troll! Hey, I ain't a troll.
Look, I bleed red, just like you.
Th-The first part is always green, but it turns red.
A troll! That's it! Our book could be about an orphan troll! Trolls live under bridges-- the school should be under a bridge.
The Brooklyn Bridge! And the cool kids are elves.
The cheerleaders are pixies.
The stoners are (snaps fingers) gargoyles! And they play a complicated sport which makes no sense called Fuzzlepitch! Oh, yeah, yeah, that's good! (chuckles) We've cracked it.
We're gonna be rich! MAN: Pardon me, but are you scheming to coauthor a successful series of children's fantasy novels? Okay, Stonehenge, let's see how good you are at eavesdropping without a throat! Don't kill him! That's Neil Gaiman.
I don't care if he's the guy who wrote Sandman Volume One: Preludes and Nocturnes-- no one spies on us! Perhaps someone of my experience would be a valuable addition to your crew.
The king of fantasy books on our fantasy book-writing team? Okay, Gaiman, you're in.
Your job is to get lunch.
And lose the British accent.
(with American accent): Cheeseburgers, French fries.
I'm all over that, pal.
Sitting in a coffee shop.
I couldn't feel more like a real writer.
(sighs) Oh, I better set up my Wi-Fi, in case I need to do some research.
But if I'm gonna use their free Internet, I really should buy something.
God, I love being a writer! "And so, Lucinda placed the fifth shard "in the stained-glass window, which now clearly read, "'Your parents are alive.
' "Gregor turned to his twin sister, "and they both understood, their journey was just beginning.
" The end.
(applause) (Moe cries) It's good.
Weekly Reader Star Selection good.
I just hope we put in enough steampunk, whatever that is.
Who wants to see my cover mock-up?! (whirring) "The Troll Twins of Underbridge Academy.
" I'm so proud of us.
Oh, you didn't write any of it.
That tuna didn't salad itself.
(muttering) (gasps) I've got it! A mermaid falls in love with a boy on land.
I'm a genius! (yells) Writing is the hardest thing ever! (whirring) Huh? Hope you don't mind us printing our book in your room, Lis.
Yeah, only your professional-strength output tray can handle the weight of our manuscript.
Correction.
Finished manuscript.
Whoo-hoo! (groans) MAN: Trolls in a magical prep school under the Brooklyn Bridge? - Interesting.
GROUP: Whoo! This is a really good book.
We know.
We wrote it.
I laminated the lunch menu and put them ia binder.
But we have a problem here.
Where's your fake author? Fake author? Fake author! If you don't have a made-up author with an inspirational tale, you don't have a book! Where's your Franklin W.
Dixon? Where's your T.
R.
Francis? Where's your Stephen King? Stupid, stupid, stupid! We forgot to create a fake author! That was Gaiman's job.
Let's acid melt him in a bathtub! Okay, stay frosty.
All we need to do is find some sap to pretend to be the writer of our book.
So hit the floor and find some pathetic wanna-be author.
Coming to the book fair sure was a great idea.
'Cause you can't write if you don't know what the competition's up to! (wry laugh) A dog wrote a bestseller?! (yells) All I've done is procrastinate! Ah, who am I kidding? There will never be a book with my name on it.
Or your name could be on a book in ten minutes.
Do I have to do any writing? No.
I'm in.
Ah, a preteen prodigy.
I like the hook.
What's the phony back story? I was raised in a traveling circus.
My mother was a lady ringmaster, and my father was a lion barber.
I wrote my first story with clown lipstick on a flattened popcorn box.
It was featured in The New Yorker's "Best Forty Under Four" issue.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
Is R.
L.
Stine here, 'cause you just gave me Goosebumps? (laughter) Oh, good one, boss.
Congratulations.
You just sold your book for a million dollars.
(cash register rings) Gentlemen, to The Troll Twins of Underbridge Academy.
" (whooping) Yeah! So, does this square us for Kansas City? Square as Golden Books, Pop.
What happened to me? In one vulnerable moment, I became the thing I hated most-- a literary fraud.
But Lis, when this book comes out, you'll be beloved.
Not just by Milhouses.
You'll get attention from Jacksons, Xanders, even Aidens.
Aw, I've always wanted an Aiden.
(door creaks open) Here it is, an advance copy.
"The Vampire Twins Of Transylvania Prep"?! Where's the trolls? The trolls are now vampires, the Brooklyn Bridge is now a castle, and Fuzzlepitch is now Bloodball.
Oh, weak! Weak and lame! How could the publishers change our book? If they had been in charge of the Sistine Chapel, the whole thing would be vampires, instead of the pope's private naked dude mural.
Look, we market-tested the book, and it really got dinged on the whole trolls thing.
I mean dinged.
So we made some changes.
Don't feel bad.
Before we got our hands on Twilight, it was about a girl who fell in love with a golem.
But teenagers weren't going to spend their allowances to join Team Schmul.
But the trolls were the best part! Do the characters still say trolly instead of cool? - No.
- Oh, that is so untrolly! Hey, if you don't want your words changed, write a screenplay.
We own your book, so why don't you go and cry into your million-dollar check? How could they do this to our book? It was the singular vision of seven people.
- No way! - What you're feeling is called pride of authorship.
You thought you only cared about money, but you actually care more about what you've created together.
British Fonzie is right.
Our story is actually more important than money.
I was gonna buy the apartment next door and fill it with dolls, but now that just sounds stupid.
They can't do this to us.
We've got to fight back! Yeah, let's get 'em! - Oh, yeah! - He's right.
We got to fight Rule number one of book heists-- never fall in love with the book.
We queer the deal, we lose the money.
Bart, remember the thousand-year war between the trolls and the ogres? Yeah? Now it's a dance contest at the vampire prom.
(gasps) Let's steal back our book.
Somewhere in that building is a computer with their sucky version of our masterpiece.
The book prints at midnight, so if we swap in the original version, they'll print the wrong book-- our book.
And before the publishers can do anything about it, The Troll Twins Of Underbridge Academy will be in every bookstore in America! This is the Fuzzlepitch Finals, and tonight, we drink from the Wazzle Cup! Hello.
I'm the pizza delivery man.
We didn't order a pizza.
No, of course you didn't.
The establishment I work for delivers pizzas to everyone, and then gives the customer the option of accepting or refusing delivery.
That's a terrible business strategy.
No, no, it's quite sound.
Okay, fine.
Where's the pizza? Pizza? The central computer's through here.
All we have to do is upload our file and Good evening, gentlemen.
Kansas City.
(sighs) Kansas City.
So, you thought you would un-ruin your book.
If it's y consolation, you never had a chance.
Whoo-hoo! All right! Someone in your gang tipped me off to your little caper.
A traitor? (all grunt suspiciously) I bet it's the Earl of Marmalade over here.
(whimpers) No, guys.
It was me.
- Oh, betrayal! - (all gasp) It can't be! It's always a dame.
But why? Because a little girl wants her dream to come true.
LISA: My name is finally on a book! And they're letting me write the sequel! A hard deadline is just the kick in the pants I need to focus and get some serious writing done.
Now to enter the password and to authorize final publication.
My favorite theme of a wall calendar.
Lisa, would you care to do the honors? I'm sorry.
(click) (whirring) Oh, by the way, the audio book is only available abridged.
Abridged! (cackling) Well, we may have lost, but we gave the bad guy a laugh.
That's something.
Our book! The real one! Yes! (laughs) Wonderful words! - No need to thank me, boys.
HOMER: Hey, you wouldn't say that unless there was a need to thank you.
You could never have printed your version of the book without the publisher's password, so I pretended to betray you.
Then after he typed the password, I secretly switched the flash drives.
You switched the drives? I got the idea from every movie ever made.
And the best part is, my face is still on the back flap.
(gasps) Gaiman! Poor Lisa.
Did it never occur to her that there might be three flash drives? I've heisted my way to the bestseller list once again.
And the most brilliant part is, I don't even know how to read.
(laughing) Gaiman, I've been waiting to do this for a long time.
(yells) Congratulations, partner.
We did it.
Hey, Neil, how come you watched me drink mine, but you didn't drink yours? It's simple, Moe.
I don't like the taste of poison.
Ah crap.
Shh!