章 54: Dog of Death

##Ahh, the Simpsons ## D'oh! I don't need your crummy job. I won the lottery! Well, I won the lottery too! We both won the lottery! Why don't you win the lottery too? Where everybody wins! Actual odds of winning: one in 380 million. The lottery-- exploiter of the poor and ignorant. You know, I heard the jackpot's up to $1 30 million. $1 30 million? Did you say $1 30 million? Yeah. Wow! Here's your lottery ticket. Thank you for knocking over my inventory. Come again. Bart, I need some lucky numbers fast. How old are you? What's your birthday? No kidding. What's Lisa's birthday? What? You don't know your sister's birthday? Strap on your bulletproof vest. It's time for another bank run. If I don't make it promise you won't sleep with my wife. I promise nothing. You'll never guess what happened, Marge. Are you ready? I have a feeling that we may win the lottery! But we never, ever-- Calm down and listen to me carefully. Go get all your money-- I buy one lottery ticket a week with the girls at the hair salon. That's enough excitement for me. The lottery is the one ray of hope in my otherwise unbearable life! Uh, the lottery and you. We're on a tight budget. Promise you won't get carried away. Yes, money-- I mean honey. Ooh! Here comes the news about the lottery. Hey, down in front. The whole state is suddenly in the grip of lottery fever and Springfield is no exception. In fact, every copy of ShirleyJackson's The Lottery has been checked out from the library. The book does not contain hints on winning the lottery. It is a chilling tale of conformity gone mad. There's one big winner-- our state school system which gets half the profits. Just think what we can buy with that money-- history books that know how the Korean War came out and a state-of-the-art detention hall where children are held in place with magnets. Magnets-- always with the magnets. I've never been so sure of anything in my life. I am going to win this lottery. Homer, the odds are 380 million to one. Correction: 380 million to 50! What will you do with your share, kids? Bank it. Give it to the poor. What do kids know about spending money? What about you? Hmm. Homer, what did you do, get a haircut or something? Look closer, Lenny. Oh, you're the biggest man in the world now and you're covered in gold. Take a hike, boss. I'm running things now. All hail King Homer. We now take you to the drawing live. I've got my tickets. They're about to start, Chief. No, you got the wrong number. This is 91 -- 2. We'll be with you in a minute, kids. This could be our ticket out of here, Mel. I will now draw the first winning number. I've got so many tickets I can't lose. The first number is 1 7. D'oh! You can still win money if you have five out of six. Woo-hoo! And the second number is three. D'oh! Yeah, I knew we wouldn't win. Well, why didn't you tell the rest of us? Why did you keep it a secret!? If you were 1 7, we'd be rich. But no, you had to be ten. And the final number is 49. Oh, my God. I won. I won! Recapping our day's top story: The winner of today's state lottery is me, Kent Brockman. Can we get a shot of me? There you go. In other news, uh a tragic mix-up today in Cleveland. Many people killed. Uh good-bye! Oh, well, we lost the money but we've still got each other. Hey, the dog's dead. He's not dead. Don't say the dog's dead when he's not. It's not fair to toy with people's emotions. He is dead. I'll get a shovel. Well, he's not dead, but he is awfully sick. Oh, sure, the old man's off his rocker. If Grandpa says he's dead, he must be alive. He is alive. He's wagging his tail. Dogs wag their tails for hours after they die. I'm tired of this conversation. Let's talk about something else. I'm going home. Clear. Clear. Doctor, he's gone. This is the part of the job I hate. You did the best you could. I love animals. I spend my life saving them, and they can't thank me. The parrots can, but-- Let's see what's wrong with this little fellow. Hmm. I'm afraid your dog has a twisted stomach. He needs an operation to correct it or he'll die. How much will it cost? Seven hundred and fifty dollars. Oh, dear. This is never an easy decision. Well, I guess we'll have to talk it over. What's there to talk about? What are we going to talk over? Mr. Teeny needs a refill of his nicotine gum. We're leaving the hospital. When's the dog going to get his operation? Uh later. First I want to tell you about the most wonderful place in the world-- doggie heaven. In doggie heaven, there's mountains of bones and you can't turn around without sniffing another dog's butt. All the best dogs are there-- Old Yeller and about eight Lassies-- Is there a doggie hell? There couldn't be a heaven without a hell. Who's in there? Oh Hitler's dog and that dog Nixon had, what's his name? Chester? Checkers. One of the Lassies is in there too. The mean one-- the one that mauled Timmy. Does this have anything to do with Santa's Little Helper? Oh, honey, $7 50 is a lot of money. We really can't afford this operation. You'll let him die? I know you're upset. Darn right I'm upset! Bart, watch your language. Oh. You did. Sorry. You're not going to let our dog die, and that's it! Lousy, dog-killing son-of-a-- Well, it will be okay. We'll get him a new dog-- one with an untwistable stomach. Oh, come on. I'm sorry but we just can't afford it. Marge, make him stop. Oh! All right, all right, we'll find a way. Lousy, manipulative dog. Uh, Mr. Burns I need to borrow money. Please, do go on. [ Homer] I know you're a good man and I have a dog that's very sick. Oh, please, continue. I thought maybe you-- Oh. Well, thanks for your time. What makes a man endanger his job and even his life by asking me for money? People like dogs, Mr. Burns. Dogs are idiots. If I came into your house and started sniffing at your crotch and slobbering all over your face what would you say? If you did it, sir? Exactly. You'd be fit to be tied. Dogs! Hmm. No! You are not performing that operation yourself. But, Marge, it looks so easy. Just like carving a turkey. Oh! Oh! Eww! Maybe you're right, Marge. I found a way we can pay for the operation. All right! Hear that, boy? What do you got, Marge, insurance scam? We're just going to have to make a few sacrifices. Homer, you're going to have to give up beer for a while. Bart, you'll have to get your hair cut for free at Springfield Barber College. No problemo. I'll give up my weekly lottery ticket and I can stretch the food budget. Fried chicken night will be organ meat night. Ham night will be spam night, and pork chop night will be chub night. I don't even know what that is. Lisa, I'm afraid we'll have to stop getting Encyclopedia Generica from the grocery store. But next week is volume four-- Copernicus through elephantiasis. We all have to make sacrifices, dear. Maggie's baby clothes will have to last for a little longer. Marge, I've figured out an alternative to giving up my beer. Basically, we become a family of traveling acrobats. I don't think you've thought this through. Good news, Mr. Danielson. We saved your gamecock but he'll never fight again. That's what you think. He'll fight and he'll win. Clamp. Wipe. No! No! Come to the light, boy. Come into the light. Come on now. There's a good boy. Come on. Come on. Um, Simpson? Oh, Santa's Little Helper, you're alive! We were so worried about you. It's times like this I'm glad I flunked out of dental school. Lousy chub night. Hey, how come he gets meat and we don't? You wouldn't want what he's eating. It's mostly snouts and entrails. Mmm snouts. Yes, I'm back. Kent Brockman is not the kind of man who would leave a $500,000-a-year job because he won a lottery. I'm a journalist. He's got all the money in the world but there's one thing he can't buy. What's that? A dinosaur. I'm not the only one benefiting from last week's big payoff. State schools got their share too. Here, lottery officials present Springfield Elementary with a brand-new eraser. One eraser? I'm used to my government betraying me. I was in 'Nam. I served for-- And speaking of lotteries here are the winning numbers for this week's $40,000 jackpot. Oh, no! Those are my numbers. If it wasn't for that dog, I would have won. For tomorrow, I want you to write a report on Copernicus. D'oh! Come on, booze hound. You want the 25 cents? Keep singing! Who's that old rummy? Before his dog got sick that old rummy used to be my best customer. Sing it, baby! My quarter! Okay, I'll just even this out and-- Mr. Laswell I've done it again. I know you can't understand me but you're a lousy dog and I hate you. Not now. Can't you see I'm reading a third-rate biography of Copernicus I found at the bus station? Dumb dog. Homie, did you close the gate? Yes. Oh, you mean tonight. The dog will get out. Bart, close the gate! Oh, Lisa, close the gate! Close the gate, Maggie! Here, boy! Here, Santa's Little Helper! Oh it's all my fault. I called him a dumb dog. Oh, he's gone and he's never coming back. Wait! There he is! No, that's a horse. Have you found a picture yet? Not one that I want the public to see. Mmm. Oh. Mmm. Oh, dear. So, recycling is our way of giving Mother Earth a big hug. Yes, well, it does sound like fun. I can't wait to start pawing through my garbage like some starving raccoon. Release the hounds. Well, neighbor I see you've got your running shoes on. That's a good thing. What's wrong with Crippler? He's getting on, sir. He's been here since the late '60s. I'll never forget the day he bagged his first hippie. That young man didn't think it was too groovy. I'm looking for something in an attack dog-- one who likes the sweet, gamey tang of human flesh. Why, here's the fellow. Wiry, fast, firm, proud buttocks. Reminds me of me. Ah, the last one. D'oh! As an attack dog you'll be expected to neutralize intruders. Want to buy some cookies? If that was a Girl Scout I'd have been bothered by now. I know how you feel. I lost my dog too. He's in here somewhere. [ ''Ode toJoy''from Beethoven's Symphony No. 9 playing ] Poor Santa's Little Helper. I'm starting to think we'll never see him again. That was his dish and that was his leash and that's where he took a whiz on the rug. Homer, get a hold of yourself. Even if he has passed on, there's no reason to cry. Remember? Doggie heaven? Oh, Marge! There is no such place. Or to put it another way there is. I'm not giving up. If I have to knock on every door in this two-bit town I'm going to find my dog. And I'll be right here watching TV. Poka, poka, poka. Poka, poka, poka. Excellent. Hello. I'm Kent Brockman. Excuse me, sir. I lost my dog. And you want me to buy you a new one. Since I won the lottery everybody wants a piece of Kent Brockman-- homeless this and hungry that. Gee, I'm sorry, mister. Sir, your llama just bit Ted Kennedy. Good! I hate to interrupt your longevity treatment, sir but there's a sweet little boy at the door. Release the hounds. Santa's Little Helper! It's you! What's the matter, boy? I'm your buddy. I love you, boy. Let me pet him again. You already petted him for ten minutes. I want to pet him again. You can pet the cat. The cat? What's the point? Good boy, Santa's Little Helper. Oh, good boy. This will never happen again. You can have anything you want. You can sleep on my bed, you can chew on slippers. Yeah, he's a good doggie. Shh!