LiSA

"The Simpsons Christmas Special" appears on screen. The episode begins with Homer, Marge and Maggie arriving at Springfield Elementary School. They are late for the school's Christmas show. Marge: Oh, careful, Homer! Homer: There's no time to be careful, we're late. They enter the hall. A class is singing "Oh, Little Town of Bethlehem". Marge: Sorry, excuse me, pardon me, sorry. Homer: Hey Norman, how is it going? So you got dragged out here too, huh? Marge: Excuse me, excuse me. Homer: How are you doing, Fred? Yeah. Excuse me. (He steps on someone's feet) Oops, pardon my galoshes. The audience applaud. Principal Skinner comes on stage. Skinner: Wasn't that wonderful? And now, the Santa's of many lands, as presented by the entire second grade class. Marge: Oh, Lisa's class. Girl: Frohlich Weihnachten. That's German for Merry Christmas. In Germany Santa servant Bruprecht gives presents to good children and whipping rods to the parents of bad ones. The audience applaud. Boy: Merry Kurisumasu. I am Hotiashi, a Japanese priest who acts like Santa Claus. I have eyes in the back of my head so children better behave when I'm nearby. He turns around to reveal glasses (with eyes attached) on the back of his head. One of the eyes pops out, and the crowd gasp, then applaud. Mr. Largo: Now presenting Lisa Simpson as Towanga, the Santa Clause of the South Seas. Man: Oh it's Lisa! Homer: That's ours. Lisa, wearing a witch doctor mask and grass skirt, juggles flaming torches. Skinner: Ah, the fourth grade will now favor us with a melody...er...medley of Holiday favorites. The class sing Jingle Bells. Class: Dancing through the snow, In a one-horse open sleigh, O'er the fields we go, Dancing all the way, ho ho ho... Marge: Isn't Bart sweet, Homer? He sings like an angel. Bart: Jingle Bells, Batman smells, Robin laid an egg. The Batmobile broke its wheel, the Joker got awa-aah! He is pulled off stage by Skinner. The scene fades from Homer looking bored to Homer looking even more bored. Skinner: The fifth grade will now favor us with a scene form Charles... uh... Dickens'... A Christmas Carol. Homer: Oh, How many grades does this school have? At the Simpsons' home, Marge is writing a letter. We hear her reading the letter in her head. Marge: "Dear friends of the Simpson family. We had some sadness and some gladness this year. First, the sadness: our little cat Snowball was unexpectedly run over and went to kitty heaven. But we bought a new little cat Snowball II, so I guess life goes on. Speaking of live going on, Grandpa is still with us, feisty as ever. Maggie is walking by herself, Lisa got straight A's, and Bart... well, we love Bart. The magic of the season has touched us all." Homer: Marge! Haven't you finished that stupid letter yet? Marge: "Homer sends his love. Happy Holidays..." Homer: Marge! Marge: "...the Simpsons." Homer: Marge! Where's the extension cord? Marge: For heaven sakes, Homer, its in the utility drawer. Homer: Sorry I'm just a big kid. I love Christmas so much. He opens the drawer and finds that the extension cord is tangled up. Homer: D'oh! Marge: All right, children, let me have those letters. I'll send them to Santa's workshop at the North Pole. Bart: Oh please, there's only one fat guy that brings us presents and his name ain't Santa. Marge: (Looking at Lisa's list) A Pony? Oh Lisa, you have asked for that for the past three years, and I keep telling you that Santa can't fit a pony in his sleigh. Can't you take a hint? Lisa: But I really want a pony and I have been really really good this year. Marge: Oh, dear. Maybe Bart is a little more realistic. (Reading) A tattoo?! Homer: A what? Bart: Yeah, they're cool, and they last for the rest of your life. Marge: You will not be getting a tattoo for Christmas. Homer: Yeah, if you want one, you'll have to pay for it out of your own allowance. Bart: All right! Marge: Homer! The phone rings. Homer answers it. Homer: Hello? Patty: Marge please. Homer: Who is this? Patty: May I please speak to Marge? Homer: This is her sister isn't it? Patty: Is Marge there? Homer: Who shall I say is calling? Patty: Marge please. Homer: (Handing the phone to Marge) It's your sister. Marge: Oh, hello. Patty: Hello Marge, it's Patty. Selma and I couldn't be more excited about seeing our baby sister for Christmas Eve. Marge: Well, Homer and I are looking forward to your visit too. Homer makes a strangling sound. Patty: Somehow I doubt that Homer is excited. Of all the men you could have married, I don't know why you picked one who is always so rude to... The scene fades to outside. Homer is putting lights up. After connecting the last one he falls off the roof. Bart: Good one, Dad. Homer: Okay kids prepare to be dazzled. Marge, turn on the juice! What do you think kids? The lights are pretty pathetic. Lisa: Nice try, Dad. Bart: Ugh. Flanders: (To Todd) Hold your horses, son. (Calling from next door) Hey, Simpson! Homer: What is it, Flanders? Flanders: Do you think this looks okay? Bart: Whoa, neat-oh! Homer: It's too bright. (Muttering) Flanders, what a big show off. The family is at the breakfast table. Marge: Kids, do you want to go Christmas shopping? Lisa: I do! Bart: All right, the mall! Marge: Go get your money. Homer: Tell us, Marge, where have you been hiding the Christmas money? Marge: Oh, I have my secrets. Turn around. (She pulls a jar of money out of her hair.) You can look now. Homer: Oh, big jar this year! At the mall, Marge and Lisa are looking at the trains and Bart is looking at some tattoos. Bart imagines himself with a "Mother" tattoo. Marge: Oh, Bart that's so sweet. It's the best present a mother could get, and it makes you look so dangerous. Bart decides to go into the store and get one. Bart: One "Mother" please. Tattoo Guy: Wait a minute. How old are you? Bart: Twenty one, sir. Tattoo Guy: Get in the chair. At the power plant, Homer is checking the equipment. Everything is in order, even one with a red flashing light. An announcement comes over the tannoy. Smithers: Attention all personnel. Please keep working during the following announcement. The employees stop to eat donuts. Smithers And now, our boss and friend, Mr. Burns. Mr. Burns: Hello. I'm proud to announce that we've been able to increase safety here at the power plant without increasing the cost to the consumer or affecting management pay raises. However, for you semi-skilled workers, there will be no Christmas bonuses. Oh, and one more thing Merry Christmas. Homer: Oh, thank god for the big jar. Back at the mall. Marge: Where's that Bart? Bart's screams can be heard. Marge walks into the Tattoo store, and is shocked to see Bart getting a tattoo with the word "Moth" on it. She yanks him out of the chair, and takes him next door to a doctor that can remove the tattoo. Bart: But Mom, I thought you would like it! Doctor: Yes, Mrs. Simpson, we can remove your sons tattoo. It's a simple routine involving lasers. Bart: Cool! Doctor: However, it is expensive we must insist on a cash payment up front. Marge: Cash? Doctor: Mm-hmm. Marge: Thank God for Homers Christmas bonus. The doctor turns the laser on. Bart: Aye Carumba! Doctor: Now, what ever you do boy, don't squirm. You don't want this sucker near your eye or your groin. Back at home. Lisa touches Bart's arm. Bart: Ow! Quit it. (She does it again) Ow! Quit it. (She does it again) Ow! Quit it (Maggie touches his arm) Ow! Quit it. Homer walks into the room. Homer: Hey, what's this? (He touches Bart's arm) Bart: Ow! Quit it. It used to be a real boss tattoo. Lisa: But Mom had to spend all the Christmas money to have it surgically removed. Marge shows him the empty jar. Homer: Oh, its true! The jar is empty! Oh my god, we're ruined. Christmas is canceled, no presents for anyone. Marge: Don't worry Homer, we'll just have to stretch your Christmas bonus even farther this year. Homer: Aah! Marge: Homer? Homer: Oh, yeah...my Christmas bonus. Hee hee...how silly of me. This will be best Christmas yet. The best any family ever had! He goes outside, and looks at his measly decorations, then Flanders' extravagant decorations. He hangs his head in shame. Homer and Marge are in bed. Marge: I get the feeling there's something you haven't told me Homer. Homer: Huh? Oh, I love you Marge. Marge: Oh, you tell me that all the time. Homer: Good, because I do love you. I don't deserve you as much as a guy with a fat wallet and a credit card that won't set off that horrible beeping. Marge: Well, I think it does have something to do with your Christmas bonus. I keep asking for it, but... Homer: Marge, let me be honest with you. Marge: Yes? Homer: Well...I...I want to do the Christmas shopping this year! Marge: Well, sure, okay. She hands him a piece of paper. Homer smiles in a big grin, and Marge switches the lights out. Homer's eyes and teeth can still be seen. Homer is at the store, shopping. Homer: Marge, Marge, mmm, lets see... oh, look! Pantyhose! Practical and alluring. A six pack, oh, only 4.99. Ooh, pads of paper. I bet Bart could think of a million things to do with these. That just leaves little Maggie...oh look, a little squeak toy! It says its for dogs, but she can't read. Outside, Homer runs into Flanders and they both drops their boxes. Flanders: Oh, ho ho Simpson, it's you. Homer: Hello Flanders. Flanders: Oh my, what a little mess we've got here. Well, which ones are yours and which ones are mine? Homer: Well, lets see. Flanders: (Picking up boxes) Well this one's mine, and this one's mine. This ones mine, and... Homer: They're all yours! Todd: Hey, Mr. Simpson. You dropped your pork chop. Homer: (Snatching it) Gimme that! Flanders: Well, happy holidays Simpson! Todd: (Walking off) Gee Dad, this is going to be the best Christmas ever. Flanders: You bet! Homer is at Moe's Tavern. Moe: What's the matter, Homer? Did someone leave a lump of coal in your stocking? You've been sitting there sucking on a beer all day long. Homer: So? Moe: So, it's Christmas. (He hands Homer a candy cane) Homer: Thanks Moe. Barney enters. Barney: Drinks all around! Homer: What's with the crazy get up, Barn? Barney: I got me a part time job working as a Santa down at the mall. Homer: Wow, can I do that? Barney: I dunno, they're pretty selective. (He belches) Homer is being interviewed for the Santa job. Manager: Do you like children? Homer: What do you mean, all the time? Even when they're nuts? (The manager frowns at him) Uh, I certainly do! Manager: Welcome aboard, Simpson. Pending your completion of our training program that is. Homer is in a classroom, filled with Santa look-a-likes. Santas: Ho ho ho! Ho ho ho! Ho ho ho! Ho ho ho! Homer raises his hand. Teacher: What is it now, Simpson? Homer: Uh, when do we get paid? Teacher: Not a dime till Christmas Eve. Now, from the top. Santas: Ho ho ho! Ho ho ho! Later in class. Homer: Um, Dasher...Dancer... Teacher: Mm-hmm. Homer: Prancer... Teacher: Mm-hmm. Homer: Nixon...Comet...Cupid...Donna Dixon? Teacher: Sit down, Simpson. Later again. The teacher is sat on Homer's lap. Homer: And what would you like, little boy? Teacher: You're not really Santa, tubby. Homer: Why you little...! (He tries to strangle the manager) Teacher: Hey! No Homer, if such an emergency arises just tell them Santa is very busy this time of year, and you're one of his helpers. Homer: D'oh, I knew that one too. Back at home. Homer has just arrived back. Marge: Homer, why are you 7 hours late? Homer: Not a word Marge, I'm heading straight for the tub. Marge: But Homer, my sisters are here, don't you want to say hello? Homer shudders. Bart and Lisa: Daddy, Daddy! Bart: Welcome home! Lisa: Where so glad to see you! Homer: Why? Oh yeah. Hello Patty, hello Selma, how was your trip. Patty: Fine. Homer: You both look well. Selma: Thank you. Homer: Yeah, well, Merry Christmas. Patty: It's Christmas? You wouldn't know it around here. Homer: And why is that? Selma: Well, for one thing there's no tree. Homer: Well I was just on my way out to get one! Lisa: Can we go too, Dad? Bart: Yeah, can we? Homer: No! Homer drives around, looking for Christmas trees. He passes signs that read "All trees $75'', "Trees $60 and up'' and "Christmas trees, slightly irregular, $45''. Finally, he goes to an area marked "No trespassing" and cuts down his own tree. A guard chases after him. Guard: Hey you! What do you think you're doing? Homer: Uh-oh. Guard: Hey! Hey! Come back here! He shoots several shots off a gun as Homer drives off. Back at the house, the family admire the tree. Homer: So, what do you think, kids? Beauty, isn't it? Bart: Wow! Lisa: Way to go, Dad! Selma: Why is there a birdhouse in it? Homer: Oh, that's an ornament. Patty: Do I smell gun powder? At the mall, a boy sits on Homer's lap. Boy: And then I want some Robotoids, and then I want a gook monster, and I want I great big... Homer: Ah son, you don't need all that junk. I'm sure you already got something much more important: a decent home, and a loving father that would do anything for you. Hey, I can't afford lunch, give me a bite of that donut. Bart, Milhouse and Lewis watch Homer from the gantry. Milhouse: Get a load at that quote-unquote Santa. Lewis: I can't believe those kids are falling for it. Bart: Hey Milhouse, I dare you to sit on his lap. Milhouse: Oh yeah? Well I dare you to yank his beard off. Bart: Ah Touché! Back down below. Girl: I hope you feel better, Santa. Homer: Oh, I will when Mrs. Clause's sisters get out of town. Thanks for listening kid. Bart is up next. Bart: Hey Santa, what's shakin' man? Homer: What's your name Bart...ner...uh, little partner? Bart: I'm Bart Simpson, who the hell are you? Homer: (Angrily) I'm jolly old Saint Nick. Bart: Oh yeah, we'll just see about that. (Bart pulls his beard off) Homer: D'oh! Bart: Homer! Homer: I want a word with you in Santa's Workshop little boy! (Aside) Cover for me Alphy. Bart: Don't kill me Dad, I didn't know it was you! Homer: Nobody knows! It's a secret. I didn't get my bonus this year but to keep the family from missing out on Christmas I'd do anything. Bart: I'll say. You must really love us to sink so low. Homer: Well lets not get mushy son, I still have a job to do. (Leaves the workshop) Hey hey! Santa's back! Ho ho (He bangs his head) D'oh! Dammit! Homer is getting paid. Homer: Ah, son, one day you're going to learn the satisfaction of payday - receiving a big fat check for a job well done. Cashier: Simpson, Homer. Here you go. Homer: Come on son lets go cash this baby and get presents for...aah! Thirteen bucks? Hey wait a minute! Cashier: That's right. $120 gross, less Social Security... Homer: Yeah... Cashier: Less unemployment insurance... Homer: But... Cashier: Less Santa training... Homer: Santa training? Cashier: Less costume purchase... Homer: Wait a minute... Cashier: Less beard rental... Homer: But... Cashier: Less Christmas club. Homer: But... Cashier: See you next year. Homer: Ohh... Bart: Come on Dad lets go home. Homer: Thirteen bucks? You can't get anything for thirteen bucks. Barney: All right, thirteen big ones! Springfield Downs, here I come! Homer: What? Barney: You heard me, I'm going to the dog track. I got a hot little puppy in the fourth race. Want to come? Homer: Sorry Barney, I may be a total wash out of a father but I'm not going to take my kid to a sleazy dog track on Christmas Eve. Barney: Come on Simpson, the dogs name is Whirlwind. Ten to one shot. Money in the bank. Homer: Uh-uh. Bart: Aw, come on Dad. This could be the miracle that saves the Simpsons' Christmas. If TV has taught me anything, its that miracles always happen to poor kids at Christmas. It happened to Tiny Tim, it happened to Charlie Brown, it happened to the Smurfs, and it going to happen to us. Homer: Well, okay lets go. (Walking off) Who's Tiny Tim? At the Simpsons home. Everyone is watching the Happy Little Elves. Elf #1: Hey, Moley, do you think Santa will be able to find Elf County under all this snow? Elf #2: I doubt it, Bubbles. We'll be sad little elves this Christmas. Lisa: Oh no! Grampa: Oh Brother. Selma: Where's your husband? Patty: Yeah, its getting late. Marge: Well, he said he went caroling with Bart. At the dog track. Bart is on Barney's shoulders. Bart and Barney: We're in the money! We're in the money! Homer: I can't believe I'm doing this. They walk past a child with his father. Kid: Can we open our presents now, Dad? Father: You know the tradition, son, not till the eighth race. Homer: Hey Barney, which one is Whirlwind? Barney: Number six. That's our lucky dog right over there. He won he last five races. Homer: What, that scrawny little bag of bones? Bart: Come on Dad, they're all scrawny little bags of bones. Homer: Yeah, you're right. I guess Whirlwind is our only hope for a Merry Christmas. Announcer: Attention racing fans, we have a late scratch in the fourth race. Number eight Sir Galahad will be replaced by Santa's Little Helper once again Sir Galahad has been replaced by Santa's Little Helper. Homer: Bart did you here that? What a name - Santa's Little Helper. It's a sign. It's an omen. Bart: It's a coincidence, Dad. Homer: (At the betting desk) What are the odds on Santa's Little Helper? Man: Ninety nine to to one. Homer: Wow! Ninety nine times thirteen equals...Merry Christmas! Bart: I got a bad feeling about this. Homer: Don't you believe in me son? Bart: Uh... Homer: Come on boy, sometimes your face is all that keep me going. Bart: Oh...go for it, Dad. Homer: That's my boy! (To the clerk) Everything on Santa's little Helper. Back at home. The Happy Little Elves reaches a happy end. Elves: Hip-hip-hooray! Hip-hip-hooray! Hip-hip-hooray! Lisa: Yay! Grampa: Unadulterated pap. Patty: It's almost nine o'clock. Selma: Where is Homer anyway? Patty: It's typical of the big doofus to spoil it all. Lisa: What Aunt Patty? Patty: Oh nothing, dear. I'm just trashing your father. Lisa: Well, I wish that you wouldn't. Because aside from the fact that he has the same frailties as all human beings, he's the only father I have. Therefore, he is my model of manhood, and my estimation of him will govern the prospects of my adult relationships. So I hope you beer in mind that any knock at him is a knock at me, and I am far to young to cartoon myself against such onslaughts. Patty: Mmm-hmm. Go watch your cartoon show, dear. Back at the dog track. Homer: Come on Bart, kiss the ticket for good luck. Not that we need it! Announcer: Here comes Shirley the mechanical rabbit. And they're off. Around the first turn, it's Whirlwind in the lead, and coming up on the left is Quadruped followed by Dog of War and Fido. Bart and Homer cheer for Santa's Little Helper. Announcer: Dog of War coming up fast on the outside. And in last place... is Santa's Little Helper. Homer: D'oh! Oh... Bart: Don't worry Dad. Maybe this is just for suspense before the miracle happens. Homer: Come on you stupid dog. Bart: Come on boy. Announcer: Whirlwind wins by a country mile followed by Dog of War. Homer: D'oh! Bart: It doesn't seem possible, but I guess TV has betrayed me. Homer: I don't want leave till I dog finishes. (Long pause) Ah forget it, let's go. Outside the dog track, Bart and Homer looks for a winning ticket. Homer: Find any winners son? Bart: Sorry, Dad. Barney drives up, with a woman in the passenger seat. Barney: Hey Simpson, what did I tell you - Whirlwind. Let's go Daria. They drive off. A man starts shouting. Man: Beat it! Scram, get lost! You came in last for the last time! Bart: Look Dad, its Santa's Little Helper. Man: And don't come back! The dog runs towards Homer and Bart. Homer: Oh no you don't! No, no, get away from me! Uh-uh. Bart: Oh, can we keep him dad please. Homer: But he's a loser! He's pathetic! He's... (The dog licks Homer) ...a Simpson. Back at the Simpson home. Marge: Mmm...maybe we should call the police. Patty: He'll sober up. Selma: Yeah, come staggering home. Patty: Uh-huh. Smelling like cheap perfume. Homer and Bart enter. Marge: Homer! Grampa: (Waking up) What? Wha? Homer: Look everybody, I have a confession to make. Patty: This should be good. Homer: I didn't get my Christmas bonus. I tried to not let it ruin Christmas for everybody, but no matter what I did... Bart: Hey everybody, look what we got! Lisa: A dog! All right Dad! Marge: God bless him. Lisa: So love at first sight is possible. Bart: And if he runs away he'll be easy to catch. Marge: This is the best gift of all, Homer. Homer: It is? Marge: Yes, something to share our love. And frighten prowlers. Lisa: What's he's name? Homer: Number 8. I mean, Santa's Little Helper. The family all pet the dog. The moment is captured in a snapshot, with "Happy Holidays from The Simpsons" written on it. The Simpsons family then sing "Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer" (a la Simpson) over the closing credits. Grampa is sat at the piano. Bart and Lisa interrupt the song. All: Rudolph the Red nosed reindeer, Had a very shiny nose, And if you ever saw it, You would even say it glows. Bart: Like a light bulb! Homer: Bart! All: All of the other reindeer, Used to laugh and call him names. Lisa: Like Schnozzola! Homer: Lisa! All: They never let poor Rudolph, Join in any reindeer games. Bart: Like strip poker! Homer: I'm warning you two! All: Then one foggy Christmas Eve, Santa came to say, Marge: Take it Homer. Homer: Er... Rudolph, get your nose over here, So you can drive my sleigh... today... Grampa: Oh, Homer... All: Then all the reindeer loved him, And they shouted out with glee, Rudolph the red nose reindeer, You'll go down in history! Bart: Like Attila the Hu-ught-urk! Homer: You little...grrrr!