- زمان مطالعه 22 دقیقه
- سطح سخت
دانلود اپلیکیشن «زوم»
این اپیزود را میتوانید به بهترین شکل و با امکانات عالی در اپلیکیشن «زوم» بخوانید
متن انگلیسی اپیزود
Dad, the next time we see you we’ll do something more fun.
Oh, what could be more fun than today’s trip to the liquor store. Thanks for the beef jerky.
Say goodbye to Grampa, everyone.
You know, Grampa kinda smells like that trunk in the garage where the bottom’s all wet.
Huh uh, he smells more like a photo lab.
Stop it, both of you. Grampa smells like a regular old man, which is more like a hallway in a hospital.
Homer, that’s terrible. We should be teaching the children to treasure the elderly. You know, we’ll be old someday.
My God, you’re right, Marge. You kids wouldn’t put me in a home like I did to my dad, would you?
Marge, what do we do?
Well, I think we better set an example.
Absolutely. Our third Sunday of every month should be a pleasure, not a chore. Where’s some place fun we can take Grampa next time?
To the pony rides.
He can’t ride ponies.
Well, I always enjoy the glass blower at Old Springfield Towne.
Oh, we saw that.
The Museum of Barnyard Oddities.
No, Bart. No!
I got it. The Springfield Mystery Spot.
Dad, it’s just a dumb mud puddle.
Discount Lion Safari!
Like I’m going to wreck 600 dollars worth of teeth on forty cents worth of old beef.
Hey, these aren’t my pills.
Now, now, Mr. Simmons. Don’t make me call Nurse Bronski.
It’s Simpson, dammit, and these aren’t my pills.
Excuse me, Nurse. My name is Simmons and I think I have the wrong pills.
I get two red ones for my back spasms, a yellow one for my arrythmia, and two of the blue… … est eyes I’ve ever seen in my life.
Then, these must be…
And I have your…
They must have…
Look at us. We’re starin’ at each other like a couple of stupid punk teenagers.
I wasn’t staring; it’s my lazy eye. I’m Beatrice Simmons, but my friends call me Bea.
We’ll I’m Abraham J. Simpson. Care to tip the wrist with me?
I would be delighted.
So, tell me about yourself.
Eh, widower, one son, one working kidney. And you?
Widowed, bad hip and liver disorder.
You left something out. Ravishing!
And, what are you eh, doing tonight?
Sitting alone in my room.
Oh. Well, if you’ve got plans already…
No, what were you going to say?
Oh, Abe, you were going to say something.
Well, I was wondering if you and I, you know, might go to the same place at the same time and … Geez, you’d think this would get easier with time.
I’d love to.
Okay, now, where’s that pomade?
Ah, damn, out of pomade. Oh, well.
Ooh, hello, young lady, is your grandmother home?
Oh, oh, oh, Abe. I can tell I better keep my good eye on you.
EMBRACE ME, MY SWEET EMBRACEABLE YOU.
Embrace me, you irreplaceable you.
DON’T BE A NAUGHTY BABY…
COME TO PAPA, COME TO PAPA, DO…
MY SWEET EMBRACEABLE YOU.
MY SWEET EMBRACEABLE YOU.
Herman, a very special lady is having a birthday tomorrow.
Ah, the Battleship New Jersey.
No, you idiot. My girlfriend Bea. And since this is the only store I know –
Ah, Grampa, nothing says “I love you” better than a military antique.
Let’s take a look at the bayonet case. Huh?
Hey, what’s that?
That, my friend, was Napoleon’s hat.
It doesn’t look like Napoleon’s hat.
Well, it’s not the famous hat. It’s the one he wore for a week in April, 1796, just before he defeated the Sardinians.
Ooh. How much?
Four hundred dollars.
I’ll give you five bucks.
That’s not the kind of offer you should make to a man with a Gattling gun under the counter. Why don’t you try Grandma’s World.
Yo, active wear… I need a price check on a wool shawl.
Dad! It’s the third Sunday of the month. You know what that means.
Oh, come on, Dad, I promise we’ll have more fun this time. We’re gonna see lions.
I can’t go. It’s my girlfriend Bea’s birthday.
Oh, you have a girlfriend. Heh, heh, heh.
Well, Happy Birthday, Bea. She can come with us. Hey, there’s room for all your friends in the car.
No, she’s not invisible, you idiot. See, it’s her birthday tonight.
Hey you kids, stop kicking the seat!
I’m kicking the seat!
Dad, don’t you want to know where we’re going?
Discount Lion Safari!
Damn these childproof doors.
That’ll be eighteen fifty.
Do not feed animals. Do not allow animals in the car. Do not make eye contact with animals.
Are we in Africa yet?
Hey, didn’t anybody notice this place sucks?
It seems that most of the animals are sleeping.
Well, let ‘em sleep on their own time!
Homer, are you sure this is the right way? The road seems to have gotten awfully bumpy.
What a wing ding. This is much better than my girlfriend’s birthday party.
Bart, get out and push.
Yeah, Bart, get out and push.
No way, José.
Okay, we’ve seen a lion. Can we go now?
Mr. Simpson, I presume.
Out of my way, I gotta date with an angel.
You don’t know how right you are, Abe.
I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but Bea passed away last night.
It was her ticker. The Doc said her left ventricle burst.
Ohhh. No, Jasper. They may say she died of a burst ventricle, but I know she died of a broken heart.
I can tell she really cared for me. She didn’t make me a pall bearer.
I can’t tell you how sorry I am, Dad.
Is someone talking to me? I didn’t hear anything.
Oh no! Dad’s lost his hearing.
No, you idiot. I’m ignoring you. You made me miss the last precious moments of Bea’s life. I’ll never speak to you again.
I have no son!!!
It was a beautiful service, wasn’t it, Mr. Simpson?
Who the hell are you?
Lionel Hutz, attorney-at-law. I’m the executor of Beatrice Simmons’ estate. Mr. Simpson, Bea was a wealthy woman and, surprise, surprise, she left everything to you.
There is one catch: You must spend one night in… a haunted house.
Just kidding. Just kidding. Here’s a check for one hundred and six thousand dollars, “to enjoy as you see fit”. Ah, I’m touched.
A hundred and six thousand dollars?
Ta-ta, Mr. Simpson. By the way, old timer, I do wills. Why don’t I just give you this pen with my phone number on it. It looks just like a cigar! Isn’t that something!
Whoo-hoo. It’s Dad. Dad’s on the phone. He’s calling me.
Oh Dad. Oh, I knew you’d forgive me.
I haven’t forgiven you. I just inherited a hundred and six thousand dollars and I just had to tell you that you’re not getting one thin dime. Heh, heh.
What is it?
I couldn’t help overhearing about your new-found fortune, and uh let me assure you that here at the Springfield Retirement Castle, money does make a difference.
I mean, there are rub-downs and then there are rub-downs.
Listen, you bloodsucker. Has it ever occurred to you that old folks deserve to be treated like human beings whether they have money or not?
Yes, but it passes.
You…oh you lousy son of a…
I’ll take it.
Hey, big spender. Why the change of heart?
Bea told me to enjoy my moola and I’m going to, dagnabit!
So where to Pappy?
Take me someplace fun.
You’re the boss. Next stop funsville!
I miss Bea.
I miss you, too.
Oh Abraham, calm down. I’m not here to scare you. They’ve got me haunting a family in Texas.
Oh, I’m glad you’re keepin’ busy.
Now, listen Abe. I want to know why my money isn’t bringing you happiness.
Oh, Bea, I’m not cut out for the high life.
Abraham. If you’re not happy with the money, why don’t you spread it around? Make other people as happy as you made me.
Oh, thanks Bea, I will.
And go see your son – he misses you.
Aw, I miss him, too, the big fat dickens. Hey, Bea, I’ve got to ask you, what was death like?
Not as scary as this!
I miss my Daddy.
Homer, this thing with your Dad has had you moping around the house for days. I think it’s time for you to talk to someone who understands.
Hi ya, you have reached Dr. Marvin Monroe’s Anxiety Line. If you have a sullen teenager, press one, now. If you’re estranged from your spouse, press two, now. If you have trouble maintaining an…
Is there room at your table for a foolish old man?
Well… sure. We’ll have to move a chair in from the den, but it’s no problem. Bart!
Choose your corncob! En garde!
All my precious sacks of gold…
…couldn’t buy me the pleasures of a simple family meal.
Pass the bug juice, Dad.
Wait your turn, you pig. I have an announcement to make. I have decided to give Bea’s money away. There are people who really need it. I’m gonna let them come to me and plead their case, and then I’ll decide who needs it most.
Grampa, that’s the noblest thought that’s ever been expressed at this table.
Give it to us, Grampa.
Bart! Forgive him, Dad. He’s just a stupid little kid who says the first thing that pops into his head. But, you know, there’s wisdom in his innocence.
You don’t want it.
Yes, I do.
Too bad. You ain’t getting it.
Not since this reporter’s marriage to Stephanie, the weather lady, has this town been so consumed with rumor and innuendo. All because of this man.
Today, one Abraham “Grampa” Simpson announced that he will give away over a hundred thousand dollars to the person - or persons - he finds most deserving.
Is Grampa Simpson a modern day saint, a rich nut, or both? Only time will tell.
This is Kent Brockman on line for an old man’s money.
Now you see, Gramps, I want to customize the bus. Y’know, chop the top, jack it up, put mag wheels on it, psychedelic paint job, from hell, man. Jam the kids to school at 150 miles an hour. Here’s an artist’s rendering. Note the cobra wrapped around the naked chick…
Grampa – I can call you Grampa, can’t I?
Yeah, yeah… go ahead.
I need that money. Please, please…
Wait… wait a minute… wait. You’re the guy who owns the nuclear power plant.
Well, the ownership is divided.
What the hell do you think you’re doing?
Mr. Simpson, I dread the day when a hundred thousand dollars isn’t worth groveling for.
Get outta here.
You just made yourself a very powerful enemy, old man.
Here’s the deal, Grampa. A guy, I think was an explorer, left this in the bar one night. It may be a map to ancient treasure, or directions to some guy’s house, but to find out, we’ll need money, we’ll need provisions, and a two man diving bell.
It’s pretty stupid, but so far you’re the front runner.
It’s a special isolation chamber. The subject pulls levers to receive food and warmth. The floor can become electrified and showers of icy water randomly fall on the subject. I call it the Monroe Box.
Huh, uh. Well, it sounds interesting.
How much will it cost to build?
Oh, that’s the beauty part, it’s already built. I need the money to buy a baby to raise in the box until the age of thirty.
What are you trying to prove?
Well my theory is that the subject will be socially maladjusted and will harbor a deep resentment towards me.
Let’s see, I want a teargas can, a blue gun with paralyzer darts…
I don’t know.
A copy of Radioactive Man number 27. That’s the first time he fights Dr. Crab. Then I wanna buy that baseball card where the guy is flippin’ the bird.
Oh yeah, I’ve seen that one.
Oh and the
What the hell is that?
Why, it’s a death ray, my good man. Behold!
Hey, feels warm. Kinda nice.
Well, it’s just the prototype. With proper funding, I’m confident this little baby could destroy an area the size of New York City.
But I want to help people, not kill ‘em.
Oh. To be honest, the ray only has evil applications.
You know, my wife will be happy. She’s hated this whole death ray thing from day one.
Oh Lisa. What makes you think you deserve all that money?
I don’t deserve it, Grampa. No one here does. The people who deserve it are on the streets and they’re in the slums. They’re little children who need more library books and families who can’t make ends meet. Of course, if you really wanted to, you could buy me a pony.
I’ll name her Princess and I’ll ride her every day.
No, you’re right about all the poor souls who need a helping hand. I need to take a walk to clear my head.
Oh, I’m exhausted.
Oh, poor baby. Been lifting your wallet?
No, I’ll have you know, I’ve decided to give my money away to truly needy causes. But a hundred thousand dollars just isn’t enough. I need more.
Well, why don’t you go on the seniors gambling junket? I bet you could double your money or even triple it.
Well, it’s tempting.
Plus, they’ve got a ninety-nine cent shrimp cocktail.
You’ve sold me.
Slow down. Are you trying to get us killed?
It’s too hot, you maniac. Turn on the air, already.
Hey, mellow out old dudes, or I’ll jam this baby into a river.
Miss, I’m looking for Abe Simpson.
It’s important I get a hold of him. I have to tell him I don’t care about his money and I love him.
We get that a lot.
He left this morning with the senior casino junket.
Hello, I am Plato. Please partake of Keno, craps and the loosest slots in town. My philosophy is “Enjoy”.
A double cheese burger, onion rings, large strawberry shake, and for God’s sakes, hurry!
Five thousand dollars on, hmmmm, hmmm, let’s see…a… what century is this?
Great! Put it on number twenty.
Excuse me. Excuse me, have you seen an old man with a lot of money? He looks like me, but he’s wrinkled? Hello, have you seen a…
Holy Moly! You’re winning!
Beat it, boy, you’re crampin’ my style.
Dad! Please, you gotta quit while you’re ahead. You understand that, take all your money and leave now.
Sorry, boy, I have to get enough to help everybody.
But you could lose everything. Come on.
Homer, I think Rudyard Kipling said it best: “If you can make one heap of all your winnings and risk it on one turn of pitch and toss and lose, and start again at your beginnings and never breathe a word about your loss… Yours is the earth and everything that’s in it. And – which is more – you’ll be a man, my son”.
You’ll be a bonehead. Come on.
Put it all on forty-one. I’ve got a feeling about that number.
The wheel only goes to thirty-six, sir.
Okay, put it all on thirty-six. I’ve got a feeling about that number.
Dad, no! Gimme that.
Get your clammy paws off my money.
Gimme me that money. Ow! You’re hurting me.
No more bets.
Son, if this lands on thirty-six, I’ll…
Son, you saved me from losing all my money. For the first time in my life I’m glad I had children.
So, have you figured out who gets the money?
Yes, Homer, I have.
Come on in. Dignity’s on me, friends.