The Simpsons s25e08 Episode Script

(belches) (exclaiming) (school bell ringing) (whistle blows) (yells) (playing the blues) (playing the blues) (grunts) (whistle blows) (cats yowling) (yelling) (bell dinging) (dogs barking) Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas, movie house! Merry Christmas, Mr.
Mouse! (screams) (listless): Hey-hey.
Due to modern sensitivity, we've been asked to block any violent images that appear in this children's cartoon.
Oh, my God! I never watched one of these sober! I gotta get this bloodbath off my kids' show! (grunts) KRUSTY: Damn it! Aw, geez, when did everything turn to crap? Bart, don't use language like that.
MARGE: Man, things sure have turned to crap.
(Homer humming) Homer, you have to take the Halloween decorations down before you put the Christmas ones up.
Marge, to that I say, boo, humbug.
(hissing) There's a new Grinch this holiday season, and its name is "global warming.
" Meteorologists warn there'll be no snow this Christmas anywhere in America, not even in Alaska, where the Eskimos now have a hundred words for "nothing.
" Global warming.
Huh.
By pure coincidence, every scientist was right.
But it's not all doom and gloom.
Illegal poachers are having a field day.
80 degrees, water won't freeze God help us, please, no one's on skis Happy, happy, happy, happy hunting (owls hooting) Happy, happy, happy, happy hunting.
(worried moaning) (Marge sighs) Sorry, kids, I guess the hats and mittens will have to wait until next year.
Oh! Oh! (humming) Hmm? Snow? (laughs) Snow! (both gasp) Oh, you know what this means, kids? (both gasp) I don't have to pick up the dog poops! (sobbing) Uh, so you see, the "snow" is a microclimate aberration caused by radioactive steam from the nuclear plant and, of course, tire fire particulate.
So, we're the only place in America with snow, if you can call it that.
I guess you can.
Don't you idiots see what this means?! Idiots? Why do we reelect this guy? 'Cause his opponent has a long Slavic name.
(crowd grumbling) Who want bumper sticker? People, Springfield is now the only town in America that has snow this Christmas.
So tourists are going to want to come here.
Stay in our hotels! Slurp our spaghetti.
Die in our hospitals.
(chuckles) I say we welcome our winter tourists with open arms, then gouge the hell out of 'em! Who? Who will gouge with me? I, too, will gouge! Duff Beer is proud to make a corporate commitment to gouging! (cheering) Here come the tourists.
Man your ATMs.
Yar.
(both chuckle) (belches) Why would a robot need mittens? Why would a little boy need an aspirin? I don't know.
(grunts) The one thing Bongo Comics are good for.
(groans) Are you okay, Chief? (panicky): I'll be fine, I'll be fine.
God, I bent down to pick up a piece of candy and rolled down a hill.
You always think it's the other guy that'll turn into a giant snowball.
Never you.
Have you seen Lou? LOU: There's snow in my lungs! Lot of attitude in that hand, Lou.
Lot of attitude.
(horns honking, Marge groans) Look at all these out-of-state license plates.
"First in Freeways," "The 'Yuh-Huh' State," "Jewel of the Fracking Belt"? "Still a British Colony at Heart," "Land of Many Water Snakes"? (Marge groaning) Valet parking, five dollars.
(tires screeching, horn honks) Oh (gasps) People, I'm completely out of milk! I do have several DVDs of the movie Milk, an inspiring return to form for director Gus Van Sant.
Uh, do you have Life of Pi? No, but I have some home movies of me on a canoe with a big dog.
People who have never seen a movie say it is a good movie.
Mmm? (sighs) We can't afford Christmas.
And when you can't afford Christmas, you've failed as a family.
(voice breaks): That's what all the big stores say.
Excuse me, ma'am.
I'm so sorry to bother you, but my kids are exhausted and the town is sold out.
Is there any chance you'd have a spare room for us? Well, there's a rec room off the kitchen, but sometimes it's there and sometimes it isn't.
Our house is very odd that way.
Please? Please, ma'am? We'd pay you $300 a night.
Well, you seem like a nice, pushy stranger.
Ma'am, because we talk this way, people always think that we're, um Uh, what is that word, honey? Passive-aggressive.
Right, right, but we're not.
Please, please take our money and everybody wins.
(Homer humming) Hmm? Oh, good.
Marge remarried after I died.
Wait a minute.
I'm not dead.
What's going on?! These are our new boarders.
Uh-uh.
No way.
I'm not sharing my bed with anybody except you.
And maybe that guy.
Lincoln-style.
But that's it.
This is a great thing.
We're helping people celebrate Christmas, and we'll be able to afford Christmas.
Oh, I don't know.
It won't seem like Christmas without opening up a giant credit card bill in January.
Take a look at this.
HOMER: What the? "The Simpson Bed and Breakfast"? (chuckles) I always wanted to stay in a place like this.
But Christmas is a special time.
And I like to spend it in the warm embrace of watching football.
Homer Simpson, ask yourself, W.
W.
B.
J.
D.
? Huh? What would Baby Jesus do? (The Beach Boys' "Merry Christmas, Baby" begins) My baby she told me she don't want to hold me And kiss my lips anymore She's gonna leave me And she don't believe me That I'll be true now Well, maybe she don't love me And is not thinkin' of me But why'd she do it this time of year? Doo-doo doo-doo-doo-doo She knows that I'll miss her and I'll want to kiss her If just for Christmas Merry Christmas Well, this crazy scheme is the kind of impulsive behavior I want to encourage in you.
Mmm I'm in! 100%! Oh, thank you.
Now, Homie, table three needs more bread.
I'm on a break.
(groans) (groaning) (groans) Welcome to our day care center.
All girls, please move to cootie quarantine.
We've got a two-month-old.
Are you sure you can handle her? Just don't lose this claim ticket.
That church doesn't look very inspiring.
What a bland marquee.
It doesn't look very inviting.
(indistinct chatter) This whole crowd's gonna be at my sermon today.
Darling, did St.
Paul worry about the crowds? Oh, he wrote letters.
Any fool can write letters.
(sighs) Lord, I'm just a small-town minister.
We don't have Mormon money.
But if you could see your way to guiding my fingers as I type this sermon Oh, yeah.
Oh, this is black-church good.
My friends (feedback drones, congregation groaning) When he starts with "my friends," it's always bad.
(sighs) Friends, every year, I tell you this holiday is about the birth of our Lord, not singing Santas and full stockings.
(all murmuring) You're losing us! Christmas is not about what happened in a manger some 2,000 years ago.
It is about what you do for others now.
Oh! (all murmuring) Get my the church bulletin.
Lovejoy's on fire.
Christmas is the Holy Spirit.
Ooh, I didn't know there were doves in there.
Give with your hearts! Give with your acts! And you will know the true meaning of Christmas.
(congregation gasping) (oohing and aahing) Wow, what a showman.
(cheering, whooping) I haven't felt this inspired since the blueberries at breakfast.
Daddy, permission for a religious fit? A brief one.
(speaking in tongues) I said a fit, not a fervor.
That sermon really inspired me.
This whole Christmas has been about money.
(bell jingling) Oh, are you with the Salvation Army? What makes you think that? (clink) Bless you.
(laughs) But I'm gonna give gifts that aren't expensive and come from the heart.
I don't know.
Christmas didn't get to be the number one holiday by being about love.
Um, when a woman talks, she just wants to be heard.
(groans) MARGE (groans): Where's the end? (gasps, groans) Hey, Marge, we're running out of chestnuts over here.
Well, they don't grow on trees.
Uh, yeah, they do.
Oh.
What about our romantic carriage ride through the snow? Setting it up.
I don't think you're giving them what they were promised, Dad.
The secret is: Don't read the comment cards.
Where do the people sit? I thought they were just gonna watch me.
Excuse me.
This eggnog is terrible.
All eggnog is terrible.
Those stockings are not hung by the chimney with care.
Why did I do this for money? Why did I do this for money? And the Christmas special on your television is one of the worst.
ANNOUNCER: We now return to King Winter Feasts On His Children.
By the time Princess Summer comes to save you, you'll all be blood in my beard.
Ho, ho, ho, ho.
Your own father's beard.
(King Winter cackling) How long to see Santa? How would I know? I'm an accountant.
I imagine for small business, huh? God, I hate Christmas.
Huh? Mr.
Flanders, where's your store? Well, I'm down to a kiosk, thanks to that place.
Actually, half a kiosk.
Sharing it with Nasreen here.
No cream is finer than mall kiosk cream.
J.
Lo use it.
No, thanks.
It is no wonder you are not married.
Flip me back.
If I have to give presents, I'll give presents with a purpose.
One for Maggie.
Check.
All that's left is Bart.
No.
No.
No.
No, no, no Ah, perfect.
GUESTS: All from Satan's power As we were gone astray Oh, tidings Of comfort and joy In Bethlehem, in Israel this blessed babe was born Enough.
Stop.
Christmas carols only have one verse.
Well, they may have more, but the second verse is where they get all weird and religiousy.
Uh, more wassail, please.
And don't skimp on the aromatic bitters.
For your information, Gloria, my wassail is just Gatorade I put in the microwave.
(both gasp) I drank that under the mistletoe.
It's not mistletoe, just cherries and lettuce.
Oh! I thought when I ate it, it wasn't poisonous.
I've opened up my house to you and all you do is fill this joyous season with petty complaints.
Ho, ho, ho.
Not now.
Take out that pillow and put it in room three.
(sighs) The pillow acted as a girdle.
Any more questions? Uh, yes, will the pudding be figgy? The pudding will be Jell-O.
Quite so.
I'm going to sulk in my room.
The only thing good about this place is the piano player.
(coins rattle) (gasps) An Angelica Button wizard robe.
With wand pocket.
And wand.
(gasps) Professor Digglesby's wand.
Now I have every wizarding stick from the Spells and Potions Department of Wagglepoofs Academy.
Don't make me learn about it.
I know this Christmas has been a little rocky, even for the Simpsons, but I think these gifts born of thought and love will restore the balance of prajna and samsara.
I mean holly and jolly.
Now, Dad, I'd like to give you your present.
You got me weed? Even better.
They're bags of seeds.
So that you can plant a garden and watch it grow.
That's great, sweetie.
After all that time and hard work, I'll have radishes?! It's the most hated part of salad, which is the most hated part of dinner.
Radishes, nothing but radishes.
Dad, stop.
What? I'm saving them from the struggle of life.
Well, at least you're eating vegetables.
Vegetables?! Okay, Bart, open your present.
It's the one I'm most excited about.
Plastic bubbling vomit, plastic bubbling vomit.
What? Lis, you're smart.
Why would you give me a book? 'Cause it's easy to wrap? Nothing is easy to wrap.
I have trouble with scissors.
(sobs) (guests murmuring) Marge, the brochure promised us a happy Christmas.
My uncle died in your bed.
Merry Christmas.
(yawns) What? (gasps) N.
C.
Wyeth.
(huge gasp) These are book illustrations.
Stop it! Stop it! Why in the world would you burn a book? Actually, the idea to do this came from a book.
Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury? What? No, I got it from this.
MILHOUSE: See? How could you burn the present I gave you? Because it's my present.
Did you give it to me because you thought I'd like it or because you wanted to feel better about yourself? Children, perhaps it's time that I explain the true meaning of Christmas.
HOMER: Shut up, Flanders.
Okily-dokily.
Now, did you check the room to make sure you haven't left anything? All set.
Need directions or a bottle of water? No, thanks.
We're fine.
Thank you, sir.
(clears throat) Oh, right, we're still doing that.
Come on.
I'll drive you to the airport.
Where are my keys? Oh, right in here.
Bart, you were right.
If you smell your farts in a dream, you die? No, about Christmas.
So I went out this morning and I got you this.
It's a tablet with books on it, but also apps, like Worms With Friends.
(muffled grumbling) Wow.
But how'd you afford it? I sold the gift you gave me.
Get the twist? Obviously.
You're saying it's from Maggie, but actually it's from you.
Thanks, Lis.
Now, why don't you donate that to whatever hopeless cause you want.
Thanks, Bart.
This will make a lot of arctic loons very happy.
(Marge groans) Uh, listen, I just wanted to say I'm sorry I overreacted.
Thank you all for coming.
Yeah, well, we have something to say to you, Marge.
(groans) We wish you a merry Christmas We wish you a merry Christmas We wish you a merry Christmas And a happy New Year.
Good tidings we bring No second verses.
They creep me out.
Okay, we'll sing a different one.
Good King Wenceslas looked out On the feast of Stephen Oh, that one creeps me out from the beginning.
When the snow lay round about Deep and crisp and even (loud whirring) Oh, the happy sound of a blender.
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