Bart Gets an F
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Bart! There will be no further interruptions during Martin’s book report.
“You’re killing me, fish. Never have I seen a greater or more noble thing than you, brother.
Come on and kill me. I do not care who kills who.”
To catch a fish, to kill a bull, to make love to a woman. To live! I thank you.
Oh! Absolutely brilliant. There were moments I truly believed you were Hemingway. Bravo, Martin.
Oh please, call me Papa.
Little ketchup for your buns, Papa?
All right, class, all right. I think we have time for one more report.
Is your book report on “Treasure Island” ready?
Is it ready? Ha, what a question. Fellow students, prepare to be dazzled. Well, as Mrs. Krabappel already mentioned, the name of the book that I read was “Treasure Island”.
It’s about these pirates. Pirates with patches over their eyes… and shiny gold teeth… and green birds on their shoulders…
Did I mention this book was written by a guy named Robert Louis Stevenson? And published by the good people at McGraw Hill.
So in conclusion, on the Simpsons’ scale of one to ten, ten being the highest, one being the lowest, and five being average, I give this book… a nine.
No? Then I’ll just sit down.
Bart, did you read the book?
Mrs. Krabappel, I am insulted. Is this a book report or a witch hunt?
Then perhaps you’d like to tell us the name of the pirate.
Blackbeard… Captain Nemo… Captain Hook… Long John Silver… Peg Leg Pete… Bluebeard.
Sit down, Bart. I’ll see you after class.
Your grades have gotten steadily worse since the beginning of the term. Are you aware of that?
Are you aware that there is a major exam tomorrow on Colonial America?
Blah, blah, blah, blah. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah?
Blah, blah. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah blah blah!…
Bart! You haven’t been paying attention to a word I said, have you?
Well then what did I say?
Uhhh… straighten up and fly right?
That was a lucky guess!
Whoa, take that, Granny! Oh, hide in the closet. Oh no, deadly mothballs.
Ooo… Granny killing me!
You have reached the level of ungrateful grandchild. Try again, if you dare! Heh… heh… heh…
Heh… heh… heh. Just a couple more games and I’ll hit the books.
Soup’s on! Hurry up, or it’ll get that icky skin on the top.
Eww, I hate that icky soup skin.
Okay, right after dinner, it’s down to business.
Mmmm. Marge, Could you get me another beer, please?
In a second, Homer. Lisa has some good news.
He doesn’t care, Mom.
Sure I do. I just want to have a beer while I’m caring. Marge…
Homer! Go ahead, Lisa.
Well, okay. I got an A on my vocabulary test.
What! You did! Well, that’s just… oh, what a glorious day! Lisa, hand me your paper.
I’m just gonna take this over to the refrigerator and, hmmm. Well as long as I’m here, I might as well kill two birds with one stone.
What’s the big idea? You covered up my paper.
Look at those funny little whiskers. Oooo! That reminds me. It’s Big Gorilla Week on Million Dollar Movie. C’mon boy.
No, Dad, I should really… Whoop!
Oooh, “Gorilla, The Conqueror.” The granddaddy of them all.
Ah well, maybe just one more hour.
It’s so unfair… just because he’s different.
Well, time to hit the books.
Burning the candle at both ends, eh boy? Go get ‘em.
All right, okay, let’s take care of some business. “Chapter One: A Dream of Freedom. On September fifteenth, sixteen-twenty, Puritan separatists from the Church of England, some living in Holland, left Plymouth, England. Their destination was –
Psst… Marge. Come take a look at this.
Oh! The little tiger tries so hard. Why does he keep failing?
Just a little dim, I guess.
Bart, honey… you’re going to miss your bus!
Hey, Bart-dude. Whoa, you look freaked.
Hey, Otto-man. I’ve got a big test that I am not ready for. Could you please crash the bus or something?
Oh, sorry little buddy. Can’t do it on purpose. But hey, maybe you’ll get lucky.
Okay, no reason to panic. Find an egghead, pump him for some answers, and boom, I’m back on easy street.
Look at him. I bet he didn’t study again.
And now he’s gonna try to kiss up and get answers from us.
Good morning, girls.
Good morning, Bart.
Say… who’s up for a little cram session? I’ll go first. What was the name of the pilgrim’s boat?
The Spirit of St. Louis.
And where did they land?
Why’d they leave England?
Cool. History’s coming alive.
As a natural enemy, I don’t know why I should care, but the information pertaining to America’s colonial period that you just received is erroneous.
So you’re saying…
A blindfolded chimp with a pencil in his teeth has a better chance of passing this test than you do.
Thanks for the pep talk.
What is it, Bart?
Nothing… must… take… test.
What’s the matter, son?
Sharp, stabbing pains… in my stomach.
Oh dear, I’ve heard of this.
“Do you feel a shooting pain in your arm?”
Both arms, ma’am.
“Temporary loss of vision?”
Who said that? Come closer.
Uh maybe… uh, one more dish. Make it double cappuccino chocolate fudge.
Oooh, your third bowl… I think you may be on the mend. Is there anything else I can get you?
Hmmm, perhaps the TV?
Of course. Homer!?
Bring the television up. Bart’s got his vision back!
I wish I had Amoria Phlebitis.
Everyone knows you’re faking it, Bart.
Well, everyone better keep their mouths shut.
You’re gonna have to fail that history test sooner or later.
I’ve got my bases covered.
Hey Milhouse, what did I miss in school today?
Nothing much. Lewis made Richard laugh milk through his nose.
Oh, you don’t say? What about that history test?… Huh? Piece of cake, huh? So listen, what’d you get for Number one? Uh huh. Number two?… Oh yeah, that sounds right.
Here you go, Mrs. Krabappel. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.
Why, this test is worse than Milhouse’s exam. Bart Simpson, I warned you. This is the final straw!
Mr. and Mrs. Simpson, I think you know our District Psychiatrist, Dr. J. Loren Pryor.
Hey, Dr. J.
I think what we have on our hands here is a classic case of what laymen refer to as fear of failure. As a result, Bart is an underachiever. And yet he seems to be… how should I put this…? Proud of it?
One of his problems may be his short attention span, which can lead to…
Blah, blah, blah… blah, blah, blah, blah.
Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah …
Bart has failed his last four exams in history. Is there anything you’re not telling us?
Every other student in the class has shown at least some form of improvement and yet you continue to struggle. Why is that?
Look at these results. Fifty-five, forty-two, twenty-six… a twelve on State capitals…
Okay… okay! Why are we dancing around the obvious? I know it. You know it. I am dumb. Okay? Dumb as a post. Do you think I’m happy about it?
There, there, Bart. You’re just a late bloomer.
Oh… I wish it were that simple. As shameful and as emotionally crippling as it may be, I’m afraid my recommendation is for Bart Simpson to repeat the fourth grade.
What! You can’t hold me back. I’ll do better, I promise.
Well, maybe it would help him to be left back. It won’t be so bad, Bart.
No, I mean it. You can’t hold me back. I swear I’m gonna do better. Look at my eyes. See the sincerity, see the conviction, see the fear. As God is my witness, I can pass the fourth grade.
And if you don’t, at least you’ll be bigger than the other kids.
Get off the bus or forever hold your peace, little dudes.
Otto, you know I respect you. I mean you always let us throw stuff at cars and try to tip the bus on sharp turns…
Damn thing never goes over, does it?
So what’s in your head, little man?
Well, I’ve been failing a lot of tests recently.
And now they’re talking about holding me back in the fourth grade if I don’t shape up.
That’s it? Hey, relax man. It could end up being the best thing that ever happened to you. I got held back in the fourth grade myself – twice. And look at me, man. Now I drive the school bus.
I’m afraid my recommendation is for Bart Simpson to repeat the fourth grade. Repeat the fourth grade. Repeat the fourth grade. Repeat the fourth grade.
All right, class… the topic is World Literature. What was the pirate’s name in “Treasure Island”?
Look, lady. I got a peptic ulcer, a wife hocking me for a new car, and I need a root canal. Will you quit bugging me about this stupid pirate.
Long John Silver, Dad.
I heard that Bart, Jr. I want to see both of you after class today.
Thanks a lot, son.
Yo! Little help!
I said little help! Throw me the ball, Poindexter.
Oh, I’m sorry, Bart. I’m unfamiliar with the rules of your sport. I didn’t want to interfere with a ball in play.
Well, back to the forecastle of the Pequod.
Hm, hey, Martin.
You have your ball back. I have nothing else of value.
I need you to help me get a passing grade.
Well, you do need someone’s help to get a passing grade but I don’t know why that someone should be me.
Because I can make it so the other kids don’t laugh at you so much.
They… laugh at me? I’d always considered myself rather popular.
You’re not. Watch!
Then my-my speed with numbers… my years of service as a hall monitor… my prize winning diaramas… these things mean nothing to them?
Perhaps another demonstration.
Very well. You have made your point, Bart.
Then it’s a deal.
All righty. Let’s have a look-see at your study area.
Yes, your-your sanctuary from the hurly-burly of modern life.
Well, there’s a desk under that junk over there.
Oh. No, no, no, no. This won’t do at all. We’re gonna have to clean up this room. And we’ll clearly need a few ferns in here. No study area is complete without adequate plant-life.
Only geeks sit in the front seat. From now on you sit in the back row. And that’s not just on the bus. It goes for school and church, too.
So no one can see what you’re doing.
Oooh. I think I understand. The potential for mischief varies inversely with one’s proximity to the authority figure.
Well yeah, but don’t say it like that.
Pretty soon you will be ready to try it with a real book.
Who would have thought that pushing a boy into the girls’ lavatory could be such a thrill? The screams, the humiliation, the fact that it wasn’t me. I’ve never felt so alive.
Great, Martin. Now, the big test is tomorrow and I haven’t even started to study…
Who cares about some test? Life’s too short for tests.
Hey! I thought we had a deal.
The Martin Prince you made a deal with no longer exists. Come on fellows, to the arcade.
Bart, it’s past your bedtime.
This is hopeless.
Well, old timer… I guess this is the end of the road. I know I haven’t always been a good kid. But if I have to go to school tomorrow, I’ll fail the test and be held back. I just need one more day to study, Lord. I need your help.
Prayer, the last refuge of a scoundrel.
A teacher’s strike, a power failure, a blizzard. Anything that’ll cancel school tomorrow. I know it’s asking a lot, but if anyone can do it, you can. Thanking you in advance, your pal, Bart Simpson.
Wake up Bart, rise and shine, little guy. Time to wake up.
Oh? No, no.
Wake up and look at the snow.
Huh? Whoa, Good morning, world!
Rise and shine Springfield residents! It’s the Bill and Marty Show. He’s Bill.
Two grown men who can’t get enough of each other…
And it looks like we’ve got some snowformation for all those flake lovers out there.
Springfield Electric, Gas and Water plants are closed for the day…
Oh now, don’t forget the nuclear power plant, Bill. That’s closed too.
Whoo hoo! All right!
And now for all you youngsters, you toddlers, this is what you’ve been waiting for. Springfield County schools are… I can’t read it, I’m too excited.
Oh, oh! Springfield County Schools will be closed.
Please please please please please please please. All right!
Remember to take a break if your arms go numb!
I heard you last night, Bart. You prayed for this. Now your prayers have been answered. I’m no theologian. I don’t know who or what God is exactly. All I know is He’s a force more powerful than Mom and Dad put together and you owe him big.
You’re right. I asked for a miracle and I got it. I gotta study, man.
I’m not missin’anything. Frozen earlobes, trudging up that stupid sled hill over and over again… how good could it be?
I haven’t had this much fun in years!
Got ya, Burnsie.
Why you young ragamuffin. I was never one to back away from a snowball fight. Smithers, you may fire at will.
I hereby declare this day to be “Snow Day” – The funnest day in the history of Springfield!
“SLEIGH BELLS RING / ARE YOU LISTENIN’/
IN THE LANE / SNOW IS GLISTENIN’ /
A BEAUTIFUL SIGHT / WE’RE HAPPY TONIGHT/ WALKIN’ IN A WINTER WONDERLAND.” /
“GONE AWAY IS THE BLUEBIRD / HERE TO STAY…
Gotta study! Gotta study! Gotta study!
“Chapter Six: Four Days in Philadelphia. The first Continental Congress faced a difficult job. Could the delegates agree on recommendations that all Americans could support?
“We hold these truths to be self-evident.
“We hold these truths to be self-evident. We hold these truths to be self-evident.”
“That all men are created equal.”
“That all men are created equal.”
“That from that equal creation they derive rights inherent and inalienable…”
Hey, look everybody! It’s snowing!
In the middle of July?
It’s a miracle.
Fellas, I’ve invented something fun… the sled.
Hey, look everybody! John Hancock’s writing his name in the snow!
Do you want to be held back a grade? Concentrate, man.
Later, Mrs. K.
Please turn in your exam, Bart. Class is over.
Do you think you could grade it now, please?
Well, all right. Let me get “Old Red.”
Well, Bart. It’s a fifty-nine. That’s another F.
Oh no, I can’t believe it.
I know, I know. Another year together. Ugh! It’s gonna be hell.
Bart, what’s the matter? I would think that you’d be used to failing by now.
No, you don’t understand. I really tried this time. I really tried.
This is as good as I can do. And I still failed.
Well, a fifty-nine… it’s a high F.
Who am I kidding? I really am a failure. Oh, now I know how George Washington felt when he surrendered Fort Necessity to the French in 1754…
Oh you know… 1754, the famous defeat to the French…
My God, Bart. You’re right!
You just demonstrated applied knowledge. And due to the difficulty and relative obscurity of the reference you deserve an extra point on your exam. Hey, it’s only fair.
You mean I passed?
I passed. I got a D minus. I passed. All right!
I passed! I passed! I passed! I passed! I got a D minus. I passed!… I got a D minus. I passed!… I got a D minus. I passed! I passed! I kissed the teacher. Peh, peh, peh peh.
We’re proud of you boy.
Thanks, Dad. But part of this D minus belongs to God.