Simpson and Delilah
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Simpson and Delilah
Okay, the capital of North Dakota is named after what German ruler?
Hitler, North Dakota?
Hey, I’m still beating you, boy.
Okay. The colors of the Italian flag are red, white and what?
I was right.
Okay, we’ll be right back with more Grade School Challenge after this important message.
I used to think that losing my hair was as inevitable as the tides. Then I found out about Dimoxinil, the new miracle breakthrough in hair regrowth.
Miracle breakthrough! There’s been a miracle breakthrough?
The odds are Dimoxinil can help me grow as much, or as little, hair as I want to. Hey, today I’m gonna do it.
For your free brochure, send five dollars to: Dimoxinil, 485 Hair Plaza, Hair City, Utah.
Hair… hair… Just like everybody else.
You know, some women find bald men quite virile.
Marge, weren’t you listening? This is a miracle breakthrough. Not one of these cheapo sucker deals.
Allow me to present the Dimoxinil Action Set in its entirety. A six month supply of the drug, the gravity boots, scalp massager and your tee shirt.
Great! Great! Great! How much? How much? How much?
One thousand dollars.
A thousand bucks. I can’t afford that.
Hmmm. Well, we do have a product which is more in your price range. However, I must assure you that any hair growth you experience while using it will be purely coincidental.
A thousand bucks. Of all the rip-off – screw job – gyp joint… forget you, pal! Thanks for nothing!
So I say “Forget you, pal! Thanks for nothing!”, and I storm right outta there.
Ah ha, that’s telling him, Homer.
Out of tartar sauce.
They call this a portion? Hey Lenny, are you gonna use all your tartar sauce? Dry fish sticks. This sucks.
Quit complaining, chrome-dome.
If I had hair, you wouldn’t be calling me that.
Homer, don’t be a sap all of your life. Just fill out a few medical insurance forms creatively. Charge that Dimoxinil stuff to the company.
But it’s a thousand bucks… Burns would can my butt in no time flat.
Ooooh, a thousand bucks. So what? To Mr. Burns, that’s one less ivory back scratcher.
Yeah! Besides you pay money into the insurance fund every week. What do you ever get out of it?
Nothing… well, that newsletter.
Exactly! Why should you get nothing while some guy who loses a finger hits the jackpot?
You got me!
Uh, I’d like to charge that Dimoxinil stuff to my health insurance?
Look buddy, I don’t know who put you up to this, but no insurance plan in this state covers something as frivolous as Dimoxinil.
Meet me in the alley in fifteen minutes. Come alone.
Dear God, give a bald guy a break. Amen.
I have hair!… I have hair!
I have hair! Look! Look!
Good morning, Springfield! Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Winfield!
Why don’t you get a haircut, you hippie?
Good morning, Moe’s Tavern!
Ah… it’s the President!
Good morning, everybody!
Good morning, everybody! Good morning Springfield!
Homer Simpson! Why, why, why, you haven’t been here I-in twenty years! Hey, you got rid of the sideburns.
Gimme the usual.
He’s much happier at work and, well, just between us girls… well, he hasn’t been this frisky in years.
I don’t want to think about it.
Daddy’s home, Sugar!
Homie, my sisters are here.
Ah, dinner with three beautiful women. I must be in heaven.
This is Homer?
Patty, stop drooling, huh.
Look who’s talkin’.
Hey, there’s something different about you, Homer. Did you lose some weight?
Yeah, you look like you got a tan or something.
I know what it is… a new tie.
Morons! Pathetic morons in my employ, stealing my precious money. This is hopeless! None of these cretins deserve a promotion.
Well, it’s in the union contract, sir. One token promotion from within per year.
Wait. Who is that young go-getter?
Well, it sort of looks like Homer Simpson, only more… dynamic and resourceful.
Simpson, eh? Hmmm. An unspoiled lump of clay to mold in my own image. Our new junior executive. Bring him to me.
Attention Homer Simpson. You have been promoted. You are now an executive. Take three minutes to say goodbye to your former friends and report to room 503 for reassignment to a better life.
Well, your resume seems in order. Besides typing and stuff, do you have any other qualifications I should know about?
I give great back rubs to harried executives. Here. Let me show you.
No, no, that’ll be fine, thank you, goodbye.
Hello, Homie. How’s my big important executive?
Oh Marge, every woman I interview for the secretary job makes kissy faces at me.
Hello, Mr. Simpson. I’m Karl.
He sounds good. Hire him.
I’ll call you back, Marge.
Simpson! Meeting in the board room tomorrow at two. Just sit there and keep your mouth shut. Got it?
Yes, Mr. Smithers.
He thinks he’s so big.
You don’t belong here.
You don’t belong here. You’re a fraud and a phony and it’s only a matter of time until they find you out.
Who told you?
You did! You told me with the way you slump your shoulders, the-the way you talk into your chest, the way you smother yourself in bargain basement lime-green polyester. I want you to say to yourself: I deserve this! I love it! I am nature’s greatest miracle! Go ahead, say it.
I… I de…
Trust me, Homer.
Take a step and say it.
I deserve this.
I deserve this!
I AM NATURE’S GREATEST MIRACLE!
I’ll need three weeks vacation and moving expenses.
YOU GOT IT, BUDDY!
Let’s go shopping.
A man’s suit should make him feel like a prince. It should cry out to the world, “Here I am! Don’t judge me! Love me!”
Do any of these suits do that?
Ooh, I like this.
No, no, no, no. Stand naturally, Mr. Simpson. Let it all hang out.
You, conceal it.
Mom and Dad have been smooching again.
Gotta run, Marge. Can’t be late.
Happy anniversary, Homer.
What? Our anniversary? Are you sure?
Don’t worry, Homie. This year you have an excuse for not remembering, what with your job and –
Happy anniversary, Mrs. Homer Simpson. YOU ARE SO BEAUTIFUL, TO ME / YEAH! YOU ARE SO BEAUTIFUL, TO ME / CAN’T YOU SEE / CAN’T YOU SEE…
Can’t you see!
Yes, sir. I hope I didn’t overstep my bounds.
YOU ARE SO BEAUTIFUL… TO ME
I love you, Homer.
I love you, Karl – Marge.
Our first issue, sir, is our low productivity and record-high worker accident rate.
A round of layoffs might wake up the idiots.
We could put caffeine in the water cooler.
Well those are my ideas! You people don’t think, you regurgitate. That’s why I promoted someone who’s in touch with the workers. You!
I think you mean him, sir.
You then! How would you improve the worker situation?
Well, sir, for one thing we had a problem every Tuesday, when the cafeteria would serve fish sticks.
Fish sticks? What in blazes are you talking about?
Well, sir, they cut the head off a fish and chop up the rest into sticks, and then put seasoned bread crumbs on them.
I know what fish sticks are! Get to the point!
Well, you only get this tiny little cup of tartar sauce to dip it in and I always run out.
Will you stop wasting our time, Simpson?
Shut up, Smithers. Can’t you see what he’s saying? A happy worker is a busy worker. Three cents worth of tartar sauce could save us thousands of man-hours in labor. I like the cut of your jib, Simpson. Let the fools have their tar-tar sauce!
Enjoy your tartar sauce, boys! Enjoy! Give me your plates. Don’t crowd. Plenty for everybody.
Hmmm. Brilliant. Who could have ever imagined that Simpson’s sweeping reforms would pay off so quickly?
You know, sir, accidents decreased by exactly the number that Simpson himself is known or suspected to have caused last month. And our output level was just as high during Simpson’s last vacation.
My dear tired old Smithers, do I detect a note of jealousy?
It is time. Give Simpson the key.
Mr. Simpson, don’t sit on that filthy thing one second longer! They’ve given you the key!
Stunning. Absolutely stunning.
Oh, hey ho, men. You know I was watching the DuMont last night and I happened to catch a fascinating documentary on Rommel, the Desert Fox. Now there’s a man who could get things done.
Towel please, Simpson.
Allow me, sir.
I said, Simpson!
Sure thing, Mr. Burns.
Well done, Simpson. Now, walk behind me down the hallway.
Can do, sir.
A thousand dollars, Dimoxinil, “Keep brain from freezing.” Now I’ve got you, Simpson.
Homer, between your hair care products and new wardrobe, we’re not saving anything for a rainy day?
Rainy day. There’s never gonna be a be a rainy day, Marge. There’s not a cloud in the Simpson sky. And what does my little girl want?
An absence of mood swings and some stability in my life.
Yea… eh… how about a pony?
I want you to weave that patented Simpson magic with my executives. A short speech, work work work, you know.
Uh, well okay, what the hey?
Excellent. Set you to your task, Simpson.
Mr. Burns, it is my sad duty to report that one of your executives has bilked the company insurance plan out of a thousand dollars.
What! Blast his hide to Hades! And I was going to buy that ivory back scratcher! How did he do it?
He charged the company for dimoxinil. It’s a baldness cure.
Thank you very much, Professor Science! I know what dimoxinil is. Now go and make an example of this hooligan.
With pleasure, sir.
Karl, you gotta help me. Mr. Burns wants me to make some speech to his executives and – what do you want?
Oh, just thought I’d drop by to tell you that… you’re fired.
Our company does not look kindly upon one thousand dollars worth of insurance fraud. Clean out your desk by noon, Simpson.
Wait! Mr. Smithers, Homer Simpson is innocent. I did this.
What are you talking about?
Mr. Simpson was unaware of any impropriety. I take full responsibility.
Really. Oh, well then, you’re fired… whoever you are.
Here’s your thousand dollars.
Hey, what do you care if this guy’s bald?
My reasons are my own.
Karl, you saved me. Why?
Have I done something extraordinary here today? No. I did what I was born to do, what any good soldier would have done when a live grenade threatened his commander. I threw myself upon it and bore its terrible brunt.
Well, thanks, Karl. I don’t know what to say.
Just walk me to my car.
Bye, Karl. I’m gonna miss you.
Bye, Mr. Simpson.
Oh, Mr. Simpson, did you bring an umbrella today?
Hey, what’s happenin’, hip cats?
It’s gotta be a fake!
It’s like, realsville, Daddy-o.
Bart, what are you doing?
Why you little…
Boy must die.
I love you, Dad.
Dirty trick. Okay, I’m not gonna kill you, but I’m gonna tell you three things that are gonna haunt you for the rest of your days. You ruined your father. You’ve crippled your family, and baldness is hereditary.
Homer, why don’t you just call the pharmacy and –
I don’t have a thousand bucks! But you do, don’t you, Marge? You do… you do. You’ve been squirreling it away, haven’t you? Saving it for a rainy day, that’s what you said, right? Right? Right?
Dad is taking this in a less than heroic fashion.
Oh Homie, I’m so sorry.
You’ve got that big speech in five minutes, Simpson. Huh, you’re not gonna hang yourself, are you?
Dear Mr. Simpson: I have taken the liberty of preparing your speech on the enclosed numbered three-by five cards. All the big words are spelled phon-et-ic-al-ly. God bless you. You are one of Springfield’s very special creatures. Your obedient servant, Karl. Good luck, sir.
Karl! So that wasn’t just a sweet voice I heard inside my head. What are you doing here?
I just came to say goodbye to the gals in the typing pool.
Yeah, well, thanks for the speech, Karl, but I can’t give it. Look at me!
I guess I haven’t taught you anything.
What do you mean?
Don’t you see? The tartar sauce, the bathroom key – drying your boss’s hands. You did it all! It was never the hair. You did it, because you believed you could, and you still can.
No, I can’t. I’m just a big fool.
Oh no, you’re not.
How do you know?
Because my mother taught me never to kiss a fool.
Now go get ‘em, tiger.
And now, with some fresh insights, one of the rising young stars of our nuclear family, Homer Simpson.
What in blazes? Who is that old geezer? And what has he done with Homer Simpson?
He is Homer Simpson, sir.
A lot of you would think I was crazy if I did this.
Yet we at this power plant are doing this every hour of every day. Bloated inventories, outmoded production methods – I can save this company millions of dollars a year. How? Through Jiko Kanri, the Japanese art of self-management. You see, in the West…the long term benefits more than offsetting the one-time cost… for a net savings of…
Five thousand two… I mean… Lots of money.
Mr. Burns’ office. Right now.
Dead man comin’ through.
Well, well, well! Our dashing young junior executive! You made a hollow mockery of our morning meeting, Simpson. I should fire you on the spot! But I’m not going to.
Simpson, how old do you think I am?
I don’t know… a hundred and two?
I am only eighty-one. You may find this hard to believe…but in my salad days, my crowning glory was a bright shock of strawberry blond curls.
Ooh, I was big man on campus until my senior year, when I became as bald as a plucked chicken. You see, Simpson, I too know the sting of male-pattern baldness. That’s why I’m giving you your old job back.
What! Oh thank you, thank you, thank you.
Now get out of here before I reconsider.
Oh, better hurry up.
Homer, are you still awake?
I’ve never been more awake in my life.
Are you kidding? I’m stuck in that dead-end job again. The kids are gonna hate me cause I can’t buy them all that stuff I promised ‘em, and you’re not gonna love me as much cause I’m ugly and bald.
Oh, Homer. Your job has always put food on our table, and the kids’ll get over it.
And… and?! What about loving me?
Oh, Homer, honey. Come here.
Come here. “YOU ARE SO BEAUTIFUL TO ME / YOU ARE SO BEAUTIFUL TO ME / CAN’T YOU SEE? / YOU’RE EVERYTHING THAT I HOPED FOR /
I’M EVERYTHING YOU NEED /