Kapitel 20: Bart vs. Thanksgiving

Stop fighting with your sister! -She took my glue! -It's not yours! This is family glue! Stop it! This is Thanksgiving! So glue friendly, or I'll take your glue away! This isn't about glue. He only wants the glue because I'm using it. -Oh, yeah? Prove it! -Here. Hey, man, I don't want your stupid glue. Here comes our friend, Bullwinkle J. Moose. Bullwinkle's antler's sprung a leak. Bullwinkle got a taste of his own medicine. -He certainly did, Bill. -Wait, what did--? -Did that make sense? -Not really, Bill. -Now I know how the Pilgrims felt. -What? -Who the hell is that? -Bullwinkle. -Who's that? -Underdog. Don't you know anything? They should use cartoons made in the last 50 years. This is a tradition. If you build a balloon for every cartoon character you'll turn the parade into a farce. Maggie! I'm about to unveil my centerpiece. It's a tribute to the women who made our country great. See, there's Georgia O'Keeffe, Susan B. Anthony and this is Marjory Stoneman Douglas. She worked her whole life to preserve the Florida Everglades. Would you like to contribute something to it? Oh, thank you. -Honey, you're in the way. -Can't I help? Well, okay. Can you do the cranberry sauce? Yeah! Where is it? -The can is in the cupboard. -Here? -No, the other shelf. -Got it. Now what? -Open the can. -Where's the can opener? It's in the second drawer from the right. No, no, the other one. Oh, I got you. It's broken, Mom. Mom, it's broken. Mom, it's broken Mom, it's broken I don't think that it's broken. Here, let me try. Here you go. Cranberry sauce à la Bart. Just stick it in the refrigerator when you're done, Bart. Bart? Those silver-and-blue guys are the Dallas Cowboys. They're Daddy's favorite team. He wants them to lose by less than five points. Kogen's got Wolodarsky open way down field. Oh, what a hit! -Yeah, he's out cold, Gil. -Yes. They'll feed him dinner through a tube. Hope they can fit a turkey in there. -Homer, you should pick up Grandpa. -Halftime, Marge. Here comes the cavalry. -You promised to be nice to my sisters. -I know, I will. -You brought food? -Just a few things. Swedish meatballs. -And my trout almondine. -You knew I was cooking a turkey. -Which is fine. -More power to you. Some people find your turkey a little dry. Now they'll have an option. Hi, Patty. Hi, Selma. It's good to see you. Gotta pick up my old man! Bye! -So insincere. -How does she put up with him? And now, get set for our fabulous halftime show featuring the young go-getters of Hurray for Everything! I love those kids! They got such a great attitude! Ladies and gentlemen, Hurray for Everything invites you to join them in a salute to the greatest hemisphere the Western hemisphere! The dancing-est hemisphere! Before we sit down to our delicious turkey purée I have happy news. These people have relatives who wish they could be here: Antonowski, Conroy, Falcone, Martin, Thorsen, and Walsh. Oh, and Mrs. Spencer, you too. Oh, I knew they wouldn't forget me. -Dad, let's get out of here. -What's your hurry? -This place is depressing. -Hey, I live here! Well, I'm sure it's a blast once you get used to it. Mom, you made it! How are you?! I have laryngitis and it hurts to talk, so I'll just say one thing: You never do anything right. -Thank you! -You're super! In the Silverdome, now ablaze with flashbulbs as Hurray for Everything leaves! A stadium's too big for flash pictures to work, but nobody cares! That's no way to lay a fire! -This will roar any time now. -A caveman could start it. -Dinner! Dinnertime, everybody! -The hell with this. Okay, Lisa, we're ready for your centerpiece. Lisa, my goodness. That's very impressive. Holy moly! That's the biggest one of those I ever saw! -I always said she was gifted. -Definitely from our side. Right, Mom? -Leave me be. -How long did that take you? I couldn't tell you. It was a labor of love. It's my homage to some heroes who may not have fought any wars, but who-- Speaking of heroes, here's mine: Tom Turkey! -Yikes! What is that? -It's the centerpiece. -It's taking up real estate. -Stop it! -Move it, toots! -Mom! I'm sure there's room for both. Let me. Bart, you're wrecking it! Let go! I worked forever on this! -Hey, that got her going! -Bitchen! Bart! You don't even care! You don't even care! All right, that's it! Go to your room now! I'll take some white meat to go, and send up the pie. -I said now! -Mom, do I have to? Yes, you do! I hope you're happy, Bart! You've ruined Thanksgiving! I didn't ruin Thanksgiving, she did. I always get blamed. And Lord, we're thankful for nuclear power the cleanest, safest energy source except for solar, which is a pipe dream. Thank you for the occasional moments of love our family's experienced. Not today. You saw what happened! Lord, be honest! Are we the most pathetic family in the universe? -Amen. -Worst prayer yet. Why don't I go talk to the children? Don't worry, Marge will fix everything. Honey, your food is getting cold. -That's all right. -I'm sorry about what happened. I poured my heart into that centerpiece! -Things like that always happen! -I've noticed that. When you feel like coming down, we'll be there. You can come down to dinner when you're ready to apologize. And it's going to be a real apology in front of everybody. Apologize? For what? Clearing the table? Having a sense of humor? They think they can starve an apology out of me? Uh-oh. I mean, good! Hey, what are you doing?! No! Drop that drumstick! Bad dog! Bad Santa's Helper. Come on, give me that. Give me that! Don't! Okay, out you go! Boy, come here. You're a good dog. We don't need them to get a Thanksgiving dinner. Wow! Swanky! Smithers, every year you outstrip yourself in succulence. Thank you, sir. Would you like some yams? No, I couldn't eat another bite. Dispose of all this. I did save room for your special pumpkin pie. It's cooling on the windowsill. Stay here, boy. Mr. Burns? Base command. The intruder is a young male, age 9 to 11. Release the hounds. I saw the best meals Of my generation destroyed By the madness of my brother My soul carved in slices By spiky-haired demons Don't worry. We'll get some grub. Even if we have to pay for it. Cool! The wrong side of the tracks. Twelve bucks! Hey, I can bleed. You've gotta be 18. Let's see some I. D. -Here you go, doll face. -Okay, Homer. Just relax. At the risk of losing my voice let me just say one more thing: I'm sorry I came. -When's he going to apologize? -He's stubborn. Homer was never stubborn. He always folded instantly. As if he had no will of his own. -Isn't that true, Homer? -Yes, Dad. Twelve bucks and a free cookie. What a country. -Cute little guy. -He's coming around. -You look a little pale, son. -We better get you some food. Here we are. All right! Twelve big ones and free grub! Viva skid row! Hey, it's that anchor dude from Channel 6. He's doing one of those be-thankful stories. We have lots of names for these people: Bums, deadbeats, losers, scums of the earth. We'd like to sweep them into the gutter or to some other out-of-the-way place. Oh, we have our reasons: They're depressing. -They're crazy. They smell bad. -Hey, listen, man. I'm going somewhere. So every year on one lone, conscience-salving day we toss these people a bone. A turkey bone. That's supposed to make it all better. You won't find the freeloader or Charlie Chaplin's little tramp here. Pompous, blow-dried, college boy! -His girlfriend does the weather. -You don't say. Lisa wants to read us a poem she's written. Sounds interesting. "Howl of the Unappreciated" by Lisa Simpson. "I saw the best meals--" -It's Bart! -What show is this? How long have you been on the streets? -Five years. -Your family may be watching. -Anything you'd like to say? -Ha-ha! I didn't apologize! Oh, no! My sweet, little Bart. Give me the number for 911! Thanks for your help. This reporter smells another Emmy. We're rooting for you. Got someplace to sleep tonight, Bart? Yeah, there's this family I hang out with. -Sounds pretty sweet. -Yeah, I guess it is. See you at Christmas. Guys, unless you feel weird about taking money from a kid, I thought. -I wouldn't feel weird. -I'm comfortable with it. Forget the report? He's down at the Rescue Mission! He's long gone. Can you think of a reason why he ran away? Well, we did kind of yell at him and sent him to his room and forced him to apologize to his sister. -I said he ruined Thanksgiving. -Oh, I see. Best Thanksgiving ever, eh, boy? Goodbye. I'm sure Bart will be back. I'd say something comforting, but you know, my voice. Let's go! If I'm not back at the home by 9 they declare me dead and collect my insurance. This is a terrible thing that's happened. -But we can't blame ourselves. -We can! Children need discipline. Ask any advice columnist. Marge, are we ever gonna see him again? Should I or shouldn't I? -Hey, everybody, I'm home. -Bart? You're home! Oh, my special little guy! We were so worried! Boy, we were afraid we'd lost you! Welcome back, Bart. I'm sorry we had such a terrible fight. Isn't there something you'd like to say to her? -Okay, I'm sorry too. -No, no, no! That won't do at all! Get down on your knees and beg for forgiveness. Yeah, beg me, Bart. Beg me! Lisa, I beg of you, please forgive me. Now we can blame him for everything! -It's your fault I'm bald! -Sorry. -It's your fault I'm old! -Sorry. -It's your fault I can't talk! -Sorry. It's your fault America has lost its way. -It's all your fault. -I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry all right. Sorry I came back here! Whoa! My whiffle balls, my water rockets! Jackpot! A sellout crowd at the Super Bowl Simpson down by six with two seconds left. He's got Simpson in the open. Touchdown, Simpson! The boy nobody wanted just won the Super Bowl! Dear Log, my brother is still missing and maybe it's my fault. I failed to take his abuse with humor. I miss him so much already that I don't know. Hey, Lisa! It's me, Bart! -Bart? Where are you? -I'm on the roof. What are you doing? Everybody's worried. -Did they cry? -Yes. Bull's-eye! -Why did you burn my centerpiece? -Come on. Because you hate me or because you're bad? I don't know. I don't know why I enjoyed it or why I'll do it again! -Just tell me you're sorry. -Why? The only reason to apologize is if you look inside yourself and find a spot you wish wasn't there because you feel bad you hurt my feelings. -Leave me alone. -Just look! Okay, okay. Looking for the spot. Still checking. This is stupid. I won't find anything. Just because I wrecked something she worked hard at and made her-- -I'm sorry, Lisa. -Apology accepted. You know, Marge, we're great parents. O Lord, we thank thee for giving us one more crack at togetherness. Amen.