The Way We Was

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The Way We Was

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The Way We Was

Do you two have to sit so close to the TV? Back up, or it’ll hurt your eyes.

Oh, it will not.

Oh yes it will.

Our next movie is “McBane”. Another shoot ‘em up, push ‘em through the plate-glass window, splatter-fest from the Hollywood cookie-cutter. Here’s a typically brainless scene.

Senator Mendoza is one of the most respected citizens in this state, McBane. And yet you ran his limo off a cliff, broke the necks of three of his bodyguards and drove a bus through his front door.

But, Captain, I have proof that he’s head of an international drug cartel.

I don’t want to hear it, McBane. You’re outta here!

That makes two of us.

That makes two of us.

You know, I can’t believe we’re talking about the same movie!

Oh, no…

I thought “McBane” was a non-stop, roller-coaster of chills, thrills, spills and kills.

And that chase at the end my friend…

Are you nuts? That movie stinks like a creepy one bedroom apartment.

Your mother didn’t think it was so creepy.

My mother. Real mature. I’m sick of your…

I love watching the bald guy argue with the fat tub of lard.

Hey, what gives?

Dad, do something!

All right, all right. Time for Dr. TV to perform a little surgery.

Looks like you lost the patient, Doc.

Shut up, boy. Cheap Chinese TVs… Why did I every buy… Is that better?

No!

How’s this?

Okay, just everybody remain calm.

Hey, everybody! If you look real close, you can kinda make ‘em out.

Hey, yeah, yeah. I think I can.

I think this is sick. They’re staring at a dot!

She’s right! She’s right!

Oh, how I miss TV! Dear, God. Just give me one channel!

Homer. It’s not the end of the world. You know, before we got married we hardly ever watched television.

You lie!

Bart!

No, it’s true, Bart. We used to shoot pool… and go dancing…

How romantic.

And a lot of times we’d stay at home and talk, just like this.

I’m livin’ it but I ain’t lovin’ it.

It’s so hard to picture you two then. Hand in hand at the crossroads of life. There are so many questions.

Pick one.

Okay. Uh… how did Dad propose to you?

Uh… well….

Well, Miss Bouvier. I think we found the reason why you’ve been throwing up in the morning. Congratulations.

Lisa, I’d rather tell you a different story. How your father and I first met and fell in love.

We were seniors in high school, but we had never even met.

Ugh, gross. Ecch.

“SOME PEOPLE CALL ME A SPACE COWBOY / YEAH / SOME CALL ME THE GANGSTER OF LOVE / SOME PEOPLE CALL ME MAURICE. Woo woo / ‘CAUSE I SPEAK OF THE PUPPETS OH OF LOVE”.

Hey, Homer. You’re late for English.

English! Who needs that? I’m never going to England. Come on, let’s go smoke.

I’m for equal rights. But do we really need a whole amendment?

Come on, Marge. Don’t you think you deserve to earn just as much as a man who does the same job?

Not if I have to do heavy lifting or math.

Oh Marge. You really ought to read this.

Oh, the shop kids are smoking again.

Oh, no! We’re late for wood shop.

But we’re early for lunch. Let’s go grab a burger.

Boy, you never stop eatin’ and you don’t gain a pound.

Eh, it’s my metabmobolism. I guess I’m just one of the lucky ones.

Well, well, well. If it isn’t Homer Simpson and Barney Gumbel. Springfield’s answer to Cheech and Chong.

Allow me, gentlemen. You just bought yourselves three days of detention. You know where and when.

Three o’clock. Old building. Room 106.

… And in another article, I found out that to hire professionals to do all the jobs of a housewife, who incidentally is not married to a house, would cost forty-eight thousand dollars a year!

The first step to liberation is to free ourselves from these…male imposed shackles.

I didn’t think it would burn so fast.

Hm, I guess it’s the tissue paper inside.

Miss Bouvier, I am surprised!

You just bought yourself one day of detention. You know where and when.

Well, no I don’t. Actually, I never really…

Three o’clock. Old building. Room 106.

Hey, Estelle, will you go to the prom with me?

I wouldn’t go to the prom with you if you were Elliot Gould.

Oooh, shot down again.

Hey, don’t worry Barney. It’s a big school. There’s gotta be a girl nobody else wants to take to the prom.

Excuse me, is this Room 106?

Hey, who’s that?

I… I don’t know!

Hey, would you like to go to the…

She’s mine!

So, what are you in for?

I’m a political prisoner. Last time I ever take a stand.

Well, I’m here for being me. Every day I show up, act like me, and they slap me in here.

Simpson! Be quiet!

I haven’t seen you in school before.

Okay, Simpson.

What?

You just bought yourself another day of detention!

Maybe we should get together some time.

Two days!

I’m sorry, I don’t even know your name.

I’m Homer.

Three days!

J.

Four days!

Simpson.

Five days!

It was worth it.

Six days! Okay, Simpson. To the back of the room!

So, it was love at first sight.

It was a jailhouse romance, man.

I’d reached step one: She knew I existed. The only problem was, she didn’t care.

What’s the matter, boy?

Nothing.

You haven’t said boo all night, and usually I have to wrestle the bucket out of your greasy mitts.

Dad, I’m in love.

Uh-oh. Why don’t you grab yourself a beer, boy.

But, Dad, I don’t drink…

Cut the crap. “I just collect the cans, Daddy”. Now grab yourself a beer and get me one, too.

Now, this girlfriend of yours. Is she a real looker?

Uh-huh.

A lot on the ball?

Oh, yeah.

Ohhh, son, don’t overreach. Go for the dented car, the dead-end job, the less attractive girl. Ohh, I blame myself. I should have had this talk a long time ago.

Thanks, Pop.

Hi, I’m Homer Simpson. I need some guidance, counselor.

Okey dokey.

Good Lord! Simpson, you should have come to see me a long time ago.

Well, yeah, maybe, but I just met this girl, Marge Bouvier and I want to force her to like me.

That’s not exactly the type of guidance I give.

Oh.

Well, I like to think I do something helpful for every student N through Z. The only advice I can give you is, try to share a common interest and spend, spend, spend.

Well, what interest does she have that I could make common?

Oh, I believe she’s very active on the Forensics Team. They meet in the new building. Room two-nineteen.

Far out!

Homer, do you have any plans for after graduation?

Me? I’m gonna drink a lot of beer and stay out all night.

Oh, no, I meant career-wise. You know, that nuclear power plant will be opening soon. It’s one of the few outfits around that won’t require a college education.

Me, in a nuclear power plant… Kaboom!

“Bringing up a son, even a blind one, isn’t a lifetime occupation. Now, the more you help him… the more you hurt him”.

Woe unto Shelbyville should they underestimate our strength in Dramatic Interpretation.

Well thank you, Artie.

My name’s Homer Simpson. I’d like to sign up for something.

Well, we have an opening on the Debate Team.

Debate? Like, arguing?

Yes.

I’ll take that, you stinkpot! Just warming up, Mrs. Bloominstein.

This year’s topic is, “Resolved: The national speed limit should be lowered to fifty-five miles per hour”.

Fifty-five! That’s ridiculous! Sure, they’ll save a few lives. But millions will be late!

Why don’t you take “con”?

No Way.

Our current speed limit is an anachronism. The fatuity…

Ignoramus.

Will you shut up?

Wait a minute! That word you keep calling me –

Ignoramus?

Ignoramus. It means I’m stupid! Doesn’t it?

There’s a difference between ignorance and stupidity.

Not to me there isn’t!

Homer,

You ignoramus.

You’re the ignoramus.

No, you…

Homer, would you like to present your rebuttal?

With pleasure.

Aye Carumba!

Hel-lo.

Hello.

Oh, you may not remember me. I’m Homer Simpson. I mooned for rebuttal.

Yes, I remember.

So… you wanna go out with me?

Well, I don’t think you’re my type.

Well, a… You see the problem is, you don’t know me. I have references. Just ask Coach Flanagan, and ask Mr. Seckofsky and Barney Gumbel.

Hmm, I don’t know.

Look, I’m not asking you to like me, I’m not asking you to put yourself in a position where I can touch your goodies, I’m just asking you to be fair.

Homer Simpson? Oh, yeah. Junior Varsity shot putter. Hmmm, hmmm. I think if he applies himself, trains real hard, hits the weights, he could go another foot.

I had him for four years. Solid “C” student. Made a lamp last year.

He’s all things to all men, and maybe to one lucky gal. Wanna go to the prom with me?

Good God, no.

Well put.

Well, what’s the good word?

I’m sorry.

What?

Well, you seem like a nice enough guy, but I really don’t have the time.

What?

And the City Forensics championship is coming up.

Yeah, so….

Oh, and I-I tutor part time.

You tutor?

Yes.

And anyone can be tooted?

Just those who need help with French.

French. What a coincidence. Just the subject I’m having trouble with.

Why you cagey ol’ dog.

Great story. Positively spellbinding. Work, damn you, work!

Bart, pay attention. You may be telling this to your own son one day if something breaks.

Ooh, lost a few. Oh, well there’s plenty more where that came from. Uh-oh, a zit. No problemo.

The perfect crime.

Hel - lo.

Why is there make-out music on?

It helps me study. Heh-heh-heh.

Well, not me. Shut it off and let’s get down to business.

Cray-on.

Bien.

Fenetre.

Bien.

Femme.

Tres bien. Well, I should probably be going. I have a big Forensics meet tomorrow.

Oh…. wait, Don’t go. Don’t go. Wait, wait – why don’t we take a little study break?

“Do the hustle!”

Keep it down!

Homer, you’re amazing. Before you couldn’t say bon jour. But now you can conjugate all the regular verbs, two irregular verbs, and sing the first verse of “Allouette”.

ALLOUETTE JAUNTE ALLOUETTE / ALLOUETTE JAUNTE…

Yeah!

I can’t believe it, it’s sticking. You’re telling me new stuff, and minutes later it’s still there! And it’s all thanks to you. Marge, when I see you forming the vowels and continents –

Consonants.

– Consonants, with your beautiful mouth, and your beautiful breath pushing them past your beautiful teeth…

Merci, I guess.

Marge, would you go to the prom with me?

You know, Homer, you’re like no one I’ve ever met before. You’re dear and honest and open, without a trace of pretension.

I’ll take that as a compliment. So, will you go out with me? Please say oui.

Oui.

Ohhh! oh, Marge! This’ll be the greatest night of your life. I’ve been saving up for a new engine for my car, but I’m gonna spend it all on us. I’m renting the biggest limo. I’m gonna buy you the biggest corsage. My tux is gonna have the widest lapels, the most ruffles, and the highest platform shoes you ever saw.

Maybe I’ll wear my hair… up.

Wait, wait, wait, Marge. If honest and open is what you like, get a load of this. I’m not really in any French class. This was just a brilliant scheme to get to know you better.

Ow.

You knew the City Forensics finals are tomorrow. And you kept me here until one a.m. pretending to be stupid. Homer J. Simpson, I hate you!

Hey, Barney, guess whose got a date for the prom?

Everything I know tells me this story doesn’t end with us sitting here, and you telling it to us.

Get off the edge of your seat. They got married, had kids and bought a cheap TV. Okay?

Bringing up a son – even a blind one – isn’t a lifetime occupation. Now the more you help him–

– The more you hurt him.

Congratulations, Artie.

Marge, this may not be the most appropriate forum for what I am about to put forth, but would you go to the prom with me?

Whoa–

I can think of a dozen highly cogent arguments. Now the first is from Time Magazine…dated January 8, 1974, “America’s Love Affair with The Prom… Even wallflowers can look forward to one date a year”…

No, Artie, Artie. The best argument is that I’ve known and respected you for eight years, and I would be delighted to go to the prom with you.

If you pinch your checks, they’ll glow.

A little more. Try to break some capillaries, dear.

Couldn’t we just use rouge for this?

Ladies pinch. Whores use rouge.

Is Marge here?

Who or what are you?

I’m her date.

Mm-hmm. I suppose you want to come in and sit down.

Oh, okay.

Marge’s dates get homelier all the time.

Mm-hmm. That’s what you get when you don’t put out.

You know, I usually insist on approving Marge’s dates, but from what she’s told me I’m sure you’re a solid citizen.

Thanks, Mr. B.

Here she comes. Get the camera ready.

Homer!

What are you doing here?

You said you’d go to the prom with me.

I also said I hated you and we haven’t even talked since then.

I was afraid you’d cancel our date so I stayed away from you completely, even though it meant skipping school for three weeks and graduating this summer… I hope.

I’m Artie Ziff, Marge’s date for the prom.

Well, hello.

Well, hello… hello.

Don’t we look handsome.

Yes indeed we do.

Well come in, young man.

Wait a second. If he’s your date, who are you?

I’m… a spare. Excuse me.

Now that that unpleasantness is behind us forever, let’s take a picture of the happy couple.

Say cheese whiz.

Hey, buddy, where’s your date?

She’s with him.

Ouch! So, I guess you want me to take you home?

Hey, I paid for this car. I paid for this tuxedo and I paid for the two dinners. We’re going to the prom.

The prom it is.

Don’t dance too closely now. Have a good time. Wait a second – is that a bong? You have asthma? All right, move along.

Homer Simpson, I thought you dropped out.

You wish, Dondelinger.

That’s Mr. Dondelinger.

Steak or chicken?

One of each, please.

Comin’ through.

Barney!

That young man’s bought himself about a decade of detention.

Children, we have tabulated your votes. The King and Queen of Springfield High School’s Class of 1974 are – Artie Ziff and Marge Bouvier!

Oh, isn’t she great? Hail Queen Marge! Woo woo! Long live the Queen!

Fellow classmates. Instead of voting for some athletic hero, or a pretty boy, you have elected me, your intellectual superior, as your king. Good for you!

Very well said. And now your King and Queen will share their first royal dance.

Why do birds suddenly appear? Every time you’re near!

I gotta get outta here.

Homer?

What?

Why are you doing this? Why can’t you accept that I’m here with someone else?

Because I’m sure we were meant to be together. Usually when I have a thought there’s a lot of other thoughts in there. Something says yes, something says no. But this time there’s only yes. How could the only thing I’ve ever been sure about in my life be wrong?

I don’t know, but it is.

Well, where to now, Romeo?

Inspiration Point.

Okay, but I’m only paid to drive.

Oh, Marge…

Gee, Artie. Artie wait. I don’t know. I mean, it was it was a beautiful evening. Let’s not ruin it.

Just kiss…

Artie, please!

Come on, kiss me.

Oh, Artie!

Please, please.

Now, really, I mean it. Now stop it!

I’m sorry, Marge.

Take me home, Artie.

Well, it’s one o’clock. If you want to keep me, I’m afraid it’s gonna be forty-five dollars an hour.

Naw, that’s okay. I’m broke. I’ll walk home.

Yeah, why spoil a perfect evening?

Marge, I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell anybody about my busy hands. Not so much for myself, but I am so respected it would damage the town to hear it. Good night.

Yeah, right.

You know, when that Simpson boy showed up it took years off my life.

Will you stop it? She went out with the good one.

Shut up. I’m over as far as I can go!

All right, all right! I’ll walk in the mud!

Homer.

Marge?

Yeah, you want a ride?

Sure.

You know Homer, when I got home, I realized who I should have gone to the prom with.

Who? Oh.

My prom date.

Marge, pour vous.

Why so glum?

I’ve got a problem. Once you stop this car, I’m gonna hug you and kiss you and then I’ll never be able to let you go.

And I never have.

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