Homer: Here's good news. According to this article SAT scores are declining at a slower rate. I think this paper is a flimsy hodgepodge of pie graphs, factoids and Larry King. This is the only paper in America not afraid to tell the truth-- that everything is just fine. 'To me bestest bud, Milhouse. Happy birthday, Bart.' Bart, that's so sweet. May I see the card? 'I couldn't afford to get you a new drum...' Eww. COME ON. Open it! Open it! Uh... maybe a little later, Bart. Just 'cos your mom didn't let you have a party... We had a lovely time on Saturday, Milhouse. I liked the balloons. I liked the party hats. What do you mean? Nothing. (Both giggle) Twins. Open your present. They're Krusty the Clown walkie-talkies! I'll keep one and you keep one. Whenever you want to talk to me call me on the phone and tell me to turn on my walkie-talkie. I'd like to express my appreciation for Saturday-- jelly bean baskets, personalised noisemakers-- but the little touches are what made it enduring. What's he talking about? Hey, look at that dog. Isn't that something? Wow! Brown. Whoa! Springfield Elementary, last stop. And I'd like to say applause, applause to birthday boy, Milhouse for his totally bitchin' party... on Saturday! (Cheering) Milhouse, I think I left my pants on your roof. You did have a party. You didn't invite me. And I thought we were best friends. Sorry, Bart. Bye, little dudes. Don't learn anything I wouldn't learn. Ah, Monday morning. Time to pay for your two days of debauchery you hung-over drones. TGIM, sir. What did you do this weekend, Smithers? I caught up on my laundry, wrote a letter to my mother. I took Hercules out to be clipped. Who the devil is Hercules? My Yorkshire terrier. He's tiny. You know, it's a joke. Here's a picture of Hurky. Ooh. Well, don't you know how to paint the town red. May I ask about your weekend? A bit overly familiar, but I'll allow it. I took in a movie. A piece of filth featuring a blonde harlot who spent half the film naked as a jaybird. Give the great unwashed a pair of oversized breasts and a happy ending and they'll oink for more. What a movie! And that blonde-- does she have assets! (Oinks like a pig) Heh-heh-heh! Sounds like my kind of flick. And how! (All oink) Eww! Lemon. Ugh! Cherry. Ooh... custard. Mmm... purple! (Hums) Otto, welcome. Apu, hey. Got a bad case of the munchies, man. Time for a heat lamp dog. Did you know there's a child in your bus? Good thing you warned me. I was heading to Mexico. (Snores) Call me old-fashioned, but movies were sexier when the actors kept their clothes on. Vilma Banky did more with one raised eyebrow than an entire... COMPUTER: Warning. Problem in Sector 7-G. Good God! Who's the safety inspector there? Uh, Homer Simpson, sir. Simpson, eh? Good man? Intelligent? Actually, he was hired under 'Project Bootstrap.' Thank you, President Ford (!) (Snores) (Alarm beeps) Huh? Noise. Bad noise. COMPUTER: Five minutes before critical mass. Critical wha..? Whosever problem this is, I'm sure they can handle it. (Pop!) Huh? (Screams) It's my problem! We're doomed! Sector 7-G is now being isolated My best friend shafted me. I'll never get over this, Otto-man. Sure, you will. My old lady ran off and married my brother. It hurt, but it's a month later, and I'm sleeping on their couch. Marguerita, I want you. Mr Devereaux, I can't work under these conditions. Have it your way, baby. You're fired. (Moans) Oh, Avery. Call me Mr Devereaux. ANNOUNCER: We interrupt Search for the Sun for this bulletin. Forget the hair. Just give me the blush. Oh, we're on. This station has learned that a crisis is in progress at the Springfield Nuclear Power Plant. Oh, my lord! On the line is plant owner C Montgomery Burns. Oh, hello, Kent. Right now, skilled technicians are calmly correcting a minor, piffling malfunction... (Screams) ...but I can assure you and the public that there's absolutely no danger whatsoever. Things couldn't be more shipshape. Where's MY radiation suit? How the hell should I know? Brockman: People are calling this a meltdown. Burns: That's one of those annoying buzz words. We prefer to call it an 'unrequested fission surplus.' Homey, please, be all right. Got to think! Somewhere there's a thingy that tells you how to work this stuff. The, um... manual! The manual, right. Aha! (Screams) It's as fat as a phone book! 'Congratulations on your purchase of a Fissionator 1952 Slow Fission Reactor...' D-ohhh! Get to the point. Ooh, what's this? D-ohh! Who'd have thought a nuclear reactor would be so complicated? 90 seconds to core meltdown. There may never be another time to say... I love you, sir. Oh, hot dog. Thank you for making my last few moments socially awkward. Looks like this is the end. That's all right. I couldn't have led a richer life. After the meltdown, expect roving bands... I don't like this programme. Change the channel. TV AUDIENCE: Wheel of Fortune! I don't understand anything. When they look up 'stupid' in a dictionary there will be a picture of me. Dear Lord, if you spare this town from becoming a smoking hole in the ground... I'll try to be a better Christian. I don't know what I can do. Oh, the next time there's a canned food drive I'll give the poor something they'd actually like instead of old lima beans and pumpkin mix. COMPUTER: One minute to core meltdown. Shut up! Simpson, it's all up to you. It's show time! OK, OK, think back to your training. Instructor: This may well save your life one day. Homer? Yeah? This button controls the emergency override. In a meltdown, push this button, and only this button. Ooh, a side. Simpson! What? You see which button? Yeah, yeah, push the button. Got it. This is all YOUR fault! Got to pick a button. One potato, two potato... no, wait. Bubble gum, bubble gum, in a dish. How many pieces do you wish? No! No! COMPUTER: 30 seconds to core meltdown. I guess there's nothing left but to kiss my sorry butt goodbye. May I, sir? Ughh. These unfortunate people will be instantly killed. This circle, which I am sad to say we are in, will experience a slower, considerably more painful death. Good Lord! Skinner: They called me old-fashioned for teaching "duck and cover", but who's laughing now? COMPUTER: 15 seconds to core meltdown. Eeny, meeny, miny, moe. Catch a tiger by the toe. If he hollers, let him go. Eeny, meeny, miny... ...moe. * (Alarm beeps) COMPUTER: All systems returning to normal. Danger in 7-G neutralised. Have a nice day. Whew. (Cheering) Will I ever see you again? Sure, baby. Next meltdown. Heh. (Squeaking) MAN ON TV: I'd like to solve the puzzle: 'Three loins in the fountain.' (Buzzer) Burns: We've isolated the problem. Wouldn't you know-- false alarm. It seems a single wayward crow flew into our warning system. Your point about nuclear hysteria is well-taken. This reporter promises to be less vigilant in the future. Excellent. Well, ta. Smithers, I can still sell them snake oil. Now, bring me a wine spritzer and don't be stingy with the vino. Yes, sir. So, Smithers it seems you've underestimated one Homer Simpson, our next Employee of the Month. Bart: Milhouse, a little salt? Sure. Ohh! Ha-ha-ha. Now we're even for your party. Come on, let's go play. My mom won't let me be your friend any more. That's why you couldn't come. What's she got against me? She says you're a bad influence. Bad influence, my butt! Never listen to your mother. She threatened to cut off my allowance. Whatever she's paying you I'll double it. I'm really sorry. (Groans) Sir, if you'll recall I'm the one who put a five-percent ceiling on the Keogh Plan... Smithers, you bean-counter, give it up. Simpson's my man. (Slurps loudly) Hey, way to save our lives. Yeah, we owe you one. Well, you know, boys, a nuclear reactor is a lot like a woman-- you just read the manual and press the right button. (Slurps loudly) Simpson? Monty Burns. Come with me. All chant: Homer! Homer! Homer!... Now, now... that will do. Homer, for your bravery and skill we award you this ham, this plaque this discount coupon book... and my own personal thumbs-up. (Grunts) Ahh! Hah! And to ensure your immortality your heroic visage will be added to our wall of fame. Oh, and what's this? A congratulatory phone call from Earvin 'Magic' Johnson? (Gasps) Magic Johnson?! Yello. Is this Homer Simpson? Yeah. Homer, I just used our last time out to call and congratulate you on averting nuclear holocaust. Well, thank you. If you play on that ankle, you'll be in pain. I don't care. Magic, what if people think a guy's a hero but he was just lucky? Sooner or later people like that are exposed as frauds. Thanks, Magic. (Laughs) Bart, you're not laughing. Too subtle? No, I'm just depressed. Milhouse's mom won't let me play with him any more. Homer, did you go out and buy a 20-pound ham? What's all this? D-ohhh! 'For heroic competence. For narrowly averting a meltdown and proving without question that nuclear power is completely safe. Employee of the Month!' Oh, Homer! Ohh... A role model in my very own home. How convenient. Look, I get enough admiration and respect at work. I don't need it here at home. How are you enjoying your ham? Tastes so bitter, it's like ashes. It's actually more of a honey glaze. Maybe you ate a clove. What's YOUR problem, boy? I had a fight with Milhouse. You don't need friends like that four-eyes. How Zen. What? What is it? What are you doing? Looking at you with quiet awe. As long as it's quiet. WALKIE-TALKIE: Milhouse to Bart. Milhouse to Bart. Please don't hate me. Please? Domino's Pizza is now Domino's. While we still do great value pizzas, we also offer amazing choice. Our authentic New Yorker range, chicken sides, desserts, and hand-crafted thick shakes are totally irresistible. Taste what's different at Domino's. Homer: Ooh, right next to the boss. (Loud bump) Aw, he'll never know who did it. (Smithers grumbles) (Smithers mutters) (Smithers groans) Ah, Simpson, there's someone I want you to meet-- Aristotle Ametdopolous, owner of Shelbyville's nuclear power facility. Huh? What? Ari's been having terrible worker problems. They've lost their zest for work. Help them find their eanae-eharatou-nah-duleve. Their eanae haratou doola what? We want you to give them a pep talk that turns them from doughnut-eating goof-offs into Homer Simpsons. I can't tell them anything. Cut the false modesty! It's tiresome. Besides, Employee of the Month isn't all ham and plaques. (Smithers pants) Well, Smithers. How kind of you to pay us a visit. Couldn't help it, sir. Parking here is terrible. (Gasps) This man has no love for his power plant. Be gone from my sight. That one's always been a problem. One, two, three. Community chest. Nah. Nah. Ah! I've won second prize in a beauty contest. Collect 10 bucks. Ha, ha! You're losing. Bart, don't feed your sister hotels. Don't worry. There's tons. That game is too old for her. Go play with Milhouse. I don't want to. You haven't made up? His mom says I'm a bad influence. Let's go throw rocks at that hornets' nest. (Growls) Mrs Van Houten, I'm Bart's mother. We met in the emergency room when the boys drank paint. I remember. Please come in. Marge, I'm sorry but I think it would be better if Milhouse didn't see your son. Look, I know Bart can be a handful, but I also know what he's like inside. He's got a spark. It's not a bad thing. Of course, it makes him do bad things. Well, Marge, the other day Milhouse told me my meat loaf sucks. He must have gotten that from your little boy because they certainly don't say that word on TV. Well, I can't defend everything he does but let's face it. All Bart and Milhouse have is each other. They're too young for girls and they're a popular target for bullies... and in the Christmas pageant, they're always sheep. Please, PLEASE let them be friends. (Sighing) I'll think about it. So the next time somebody tells you carni folk are good honest people you can spit in their faces for me. I will. But if you'll excuse me ` I'm profiling my dad for the school paper. I'd thought it would be neat to follow him around for a day to see what makes him tick. Oh, that's sweet. I used to follow my dad to a lot of bars too. There you go, one beer, one chocolate milk. Excuse me, I had the chocolate milk. Oh. (Groans) What's the matter, Homer? Alcohol's depressing effects don't kick in till closing. He's a little nervous. He has to give a speech on keeping cool in a crisis. What will I do?! What will I do?! I gave a speech once. I was pretty nervous, so I used a little trick. I pictured everyone in their underwear-- the judge, the jury, my lawyer-- everybody. Did it work? I'm a free man. WALKIE-TALKIE: Milhouse to Bart. Do you want to come over and play? Really? We can be friends again? Did your mom die? Uh... I don't think so. Well, who cares? Milhouse, I'll be right there. Sorry, Maggie. Game's over. Hey, Mom! I'm friends with Milhouse again. I knew his mother would come to her senses. Thanks for sticking up for me. Who says I did it? Who else would? Aw... you be good. I will. As I look into this sea of smiling faces I am filled with a sense of loathing and revulsion. You are not workers. You are a pack of mangy, cud-chewing, ugly goats. Well, you're in for a treat. We have with us today a real man. Behold the glory that is Homer Simpson. (Applause) (Clears throat) Uh... "ladies and... gentlemen." Just picture them in their underwear... Whew! Ahh! Voice cracks: "Grace under pressure... is no..." COMPUTER: Three minutes to meltdown. (Screaming) Whew! Saved by the bell. 15 seconds to core meltdown. Just do what you did before. All right. Eeny, meeny, miny, moe catch a tiger by the toe if he hollers let him go eeny, meeny, miny... moe. Crisis has been averted. Everything is super. Thank you, Homer, for saving my plant with that idiotic rhyming! Do you even know what button you pushed?! Sure-- moe. Eeny, meeny, miny, moe. Is Homer a hero? The answer is no. I'm Kent Brockman and that was "My Two Cents." Now, Scott Christian with "Laugh and a Half." Thanks, Kent. There was more dumb luck today when Police Chief Wigham foiled a bank hold-up without even trying. It seems the chief had gone to the bank to cash in his penny jar. ...48, 49, 50. What the..? Good work, Chief. Just doing my job. Yes, it seems the chief pulled a Homer Simpson of his own. (Both laugh) Whoa! Huh? A pretzel? Wow! Looks like I pulled a Homer. Chick Hearn: Magic Johnson coming down the floor. His feet slip out from under him! The ball flies loose, hits the referee goes in the basket! It's a three-point play! The Lakers win! Looks like I pulled a Homer. Lisa: Our dad! Now he belongs to the ages. Captioned by the Caption Center WGBH Educational Foundation Captions were made with the support of NZ On Air. Www.able.co.nz Able 2018