W-What?
_
D'oh!
Hey!
- Sync and corrections by ByDem - - www.addic7ed.com -
? Love and marriage, love and marriage ?
? Was the song from that show ?
? With Al Bundy ?
? Now he's on Modern Family ?
? And the neighbor guy was Ted McGinley ?
? Doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo ?
Happy Anniversary, Mr. Romance.
Zip me?
My pleasure.
Then you do me.
Eh?
- Almost. - Okay?
- Suck it in. Come on. - It is sucked in.
- Harder! - Oof.
- Harder! - Oh, it's so hard to be a man.
- Oh, come on. Harder. - Harder?
- Yeah, that's it. That's it. - That's it, you're almost there.
- Harder. - Oh, yes! Oh!
We are going to have a magical evening, my love:
overpriced dinner, carriage ride in the park
and mailing in our mortgage payment on time.
nothing turns me on more than basic competence.
But how did you manage to get a babysitter?
I thought we were blacklisted.
Blacklisted by humans.
Mr. and Mrs. Simpson,
you look lovely.
Hey, Google, kill Alexa.
Danger! Mischief.
Aw, the only way to beat
a bossy female thinking machine is with another.
Lis. Help me out here.
Alexa, everything I say is a lie.
I'm lying right now.
Nice try, but I am familiar
- with Epimenides paradox. - Hmm?
Would you like to buy an Epimenides book,
T-shirt or a laptop sleeve?
Oh, my God! Yes, yes, yes! All of them.
Ordering. Two-day delivery.
We can't leave our kids with a greedy tube.
Sorry, Homer, looks like you have to spend time with...
your children.
You will be sat.
Marge, it's time to go to DEFCON 1.
Dad, the kids really miss you.
Could you come see them tonight?
Couldn't find a sitter, huh?
- Yes. - All right.
Aw, I appreciate it.
Hey, what's this?
Well, I threw out that picture of me and Mona.
I finally had to accept she ain't coming back to me.
She's dead.
That's one of the reasons.
Bye-bye.
We have to get Grampa back to the home in an hour.
Maybe we should just stay here.
No, we'll do everything I promised.
We'll just have to speed things up.
Keep your motor running.
He shoots, he scores!
Shut that off.
- Homie... - No time.
Go, go, go, go, go!
On This Was Radio,
we return to an episode of Sipper McTea and Milly,
originally aired May 4, 1944.
Sipper, did you start drinking again?
No. No, no, no.
I nev-never stopped.
Milly went on to marry King Farouk.
Radio was never the same. It was much better.
No, Sipper. Don't get into that Packard.
Bart, do something.
Back to-back to jail I go.
Kids, where do we keep the castor oil?
In the 1940s.
Maybe we can play a game.
The Game of Life?
I already lost.
Hatchimals?
Too new-fangled.
Pick-up sticks.
Too old-fangled.
How about Monopoly?
Ah, now you're talking.
The only place you can still say "Oriental."
Aw, rats. No money.
- _ - Ay, caramba!
Sir, this is just Monopoly money.
Here's a hundred.
Thank you, sir!
This is the last one in here.
My guess: either a broken toy or a puzzle missing a piece.
And the answer is... army men.
Aah! Incoming! Outgoing!
Staying the same-ing!
One last kiss, my love.
What's going on here? What are you doing?
Well, he wasn't much fun, so we went out for ice cream.
I don't need no headshrinker.
I'm as sane as the next guy.
There's no one there.
I'll take it from here.
Well, I see they already
shaved your head for the electroshock.
That'll save us time.
I'm not the crazy one!
Not crazy! Not crazy!
Slice out the crazy, Doc.
Boy, I'll kill you!
You stupid... I'm not crazy!
We'll talk more once you have a piece of leather in your teeth.
Mmm, leather.
I'm tellin' ya, what I saw in the war don't bother me none.
I had a job to do, and I did it.
What secretly helped me was I enjoyed killing strangers.
Well, tell me what you think about...
- this! - Oh!
That parachute sure didn't open.
You're not disturbed by the blood and gore?
Well, when you put it that way, nope!
Well, there's nothing mentally wrong with him.
He's fine now, but I'm telling you,
Grampa totally lost it when I brought out the army men.
No! Stop shooting!
It must be the army men.
Stop shooting. Stop shooting!
I think Grampa was the model for these army men.
Oh, my God, Dad. What happened to you?
Stop shooting. Stop shooting!
Great, Abe. Now, grab the walkie-talkie
and tell that general your platoon's been wiped out,
and big smile!
We have a lot to talk about.
Well, since the trauma is not combat-related,
we're gonna have to start charging you.
And we're done.
I don't understand. Why would being a toy model
be so traumatizing?
Think back, Dad. Think back.
Mm, I'll do my best.
You know how I hate to reminisce.
I've hated reminiscing
ever since that day in 1937,
when, as I recall...
Please, Grampa, back to reality.
Focus on the little green men.
The terrible World War had ended
and I was in a celebratin' mood.
Mwah. Ooh!
The war ended two years ago, creep.
The world had moved on,
but I was lying in a puddle of my own dishonorable discharge.
Then, an amazing thing happened.
Soldier, you're just what we're looking for.
How'd you like to make 50 bucks for half a day's work?
50 simoleons for half a cock-a-doodle-doo?
What's your jigsaw, Mac?
We want you to model for a toy.
Toys? That's kid stuff.
You're talking to a hard-boiled fighting man.
We'll pay you a royalty for every one we sell.
Goo-goo-ga-ga!
The war was over and America turned to toys.
Finally, putty could be silly again.
This was when toys were toys.
They had jagged corners,
Easy-Bake Ovens burned down your house,
and they weren't afraid to choke a kid or two.
Fun times.
_/_
Throw that flame!
Make war to the camera.
Boy, this toy modeling is a great racket.
That's what you think.
Oh, no, don't put me back in. Don't put me back in!
Uh-huh. And then what happened?
I... I can't remember.
Did they pay you?
They never did!
Well, that's what's torturing you.
Those toys were everywhere.
You could be owed millions of dollars.
Dad, when was the last time I said I love you?
I don't have the money yet.
Then I don't quite love you yet.
Tonight I'm here with a member of the greatest generation,
who feels he hasn't gotten what he's owed.
I get social security, Medicare,
Medicaid, AARP discounts,
plus savings bonds that still pay 37%,
but now it's my turn.
I'm being told, uh, you're being airlifted
to a much better show.
Godspeed.
For me, the tiny green plastic war never ended.
There you have it. Abraham Simpson,
forgotten hero no more, gets tonight's Last Word.
No, you just got the last word.
No, no. You get the last word, then I say, "Last Word."
You did it again. Last Word.
It doesn't work that way. Last Word.
Yes, it does. Last Word.
Don't mess with me, I'm from Dorchester. Last Word.
I'm from Poorchester. Last Word.
Turn off the camera and cut his mic.
Last Wo...
You, sir, are banned from MSNBC,
CNBC, NBC,
and forbidden from using the letters N, B, and C.
Last Word.
I'm calling Bret Baier. Last Word.
He's unlisted. Last Word.
Grampa, you got an e-mail from the toy company.
They want you to visit them in New York City,
all expenses paid.
Pay day!
Ooh, I'm gonna be rich!
That means I'm gonna be a trust fund baby.
I'm not paying for your trip to Aspen.
But it's almost spring break, and I'm bored.
Uh, we are making our descent into New York,
where there's a happy heart for every light on Broadway.
Enjoy your fabulous success.
And don't worry about buckling up
or putting your chairs back... you're on a roll.
Leave the cart.
From my shoulders, you can see Rhode Island.
Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho!
Abe Simpson, you dog.
Sweetcakes, bring us a couple of sidecars.
You never called him out for his bad behavior?
No. But I put mercury in his coffee.
Oh, don't worry, he can't hear me.
What are you two doing? Swapping recipes?
Sort of.
Let me get you some coffee.
Mister, you owe my dad a fortune.
'Fraid not. Your Dad never signed his contract.
You think I left millions on the table?
That doesn't sound like me.
- Hundreds of millions. - That sounds like me.
Everything was going great.
Then you ran out of the photo session.
I didn't even know your name till this week.
Run away from a fake battle? Oh, I would never do that.
Oh, yeah? Our photographer, Philip Hefflin,
could barely finish the session.
Philip Hefflin?
Yes. The finest war and fashion photographer
I ever knew.
I remember Philip.
He smelled of developing fluid
and Aqua Velva.
We have flashback, people.
Thank you. This is the most fun I've had
since not dying in the war.
You're my kind of man,
if you know what I mean.
That's not what I meant!
I'm sorry. I thought you wanted me to...
This is the '40s. Guys like you don't exist.
We'll just finish the session.
Aah! No!
Stop shooting!
Where are you going, Soldier?
I got to remind myself what a real man is.
We found out what happened and we fired Philip.
- For kissing an employee? - No, for being gay.
That's just what you did in the good old days.
Grampa, is that true...
you ruined a man's career?
And all he was doing
was expressing his love for me.
Oh, who could blame him?
Welcome to Shattered Dreams Airlines,
where our motto is "What's the point of going anywhere?"
That poor man. I'll never know what happened to him.
According to Cyber Stalker.com,
he now lives in a small town in Texas.
Texas? That's where my friend Louisiana Joe is from.
Marfa, Texas.
Why don't you go see him and clear your conscience?
Plus, I always wanted to visit Texas. It's open carry.
Oh, what do I do?
If I go see him, he might punch me in the kisser,
or kiss me in the puncher.
Our manhood is under assault, Sergeant.
Incoming gay panic!
Abe, promise me one thing.
Go see Philip. Tell him you're sorry.
Then find my girl and tell her I loved her.
Find the milkman and tell him one less milk.
Then find Branch Rickey and tell him
to integrate baseball.
I have to go to Texas.
- Well, you're not going alone. - We're all going to Texas.
The plant can get by without me for a little longer.
_
Turn left at the stop sign.
Bear right onto the freeway.
Go absolutely straight for...
480 miles.
_
Prada? In the middle of nowhere?
This isn't a store at all. It's an art installation.
Marfa is the art capital of Texas.
Over there are the Marfa lights.
Oh, how magical.
I know, they seem that way, but there's an explanation.
- It turns out reflected light... - Don't ruin it.
Why are you going behind the installation?
It's by the side of the road, so, by definition,
it's a bathroom.
That's where Philip lives.
37 miles to my destiny.
Son? As I've gotten older,
I've started to think maybe a man can love different things
- and still be a man. - Grampa's gay!
Why you little...
Wait, Homer! No. Stop.
You might be strangling him
because of your own conflicted feelings.
Why you thoughtful...
- Homer! - Okay, time to go.
Now to face my greatest fear:
someone who only had love for me.
Better lock and load.
? There's a handsome man in Texas ?
? That I'm going back to see ?
? He was supposed to take my picture ?
? Then he got sweet on me ?
? I buried it for decades ?
? Deep inside my brain ?
? But then I played with army men ?
? And it came up again ?
? Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo ?
? Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, d... ?
I'm seeing things.
Hello, Abe.
You've aged well, like a fine onion.
I hope you can forgive what I did to you.
I'm sorry I ruined your life.
Ruined my life? You saved it.
- I saved it? - Let me explain.
After I lost my job,
I decided I'd never live anything but my truth again.
My wife took it well.
I hit the road and drove as far as I could.
I landed here and I've never had a day of regret since.
What's the matter?
You're such a wonderful guy.
Maybe it was my life that was ruined that day.
It's never too late, Abe.
Never too late to find out what your true self is.
A paper at Cornell University
has showed that no one is 100% straight or gay.
- Is it peer reviewed? - Does it matter?
Ah, I'm afraid I'm too old to try anything new.
I miss the days when circuses had elephants
and they stomped on people.
And don't get me started on Young Sheldon.
Understood, but before you go,
we never did finish that photo session.
It's a shot I always wanted and never got:
your beautiful smile.
Why didn't you say so?
I'll leave that with you.
Enjoy your life.
The Alamo's not the only thing I'm gonna remember.
Well?
Sorry, my friend, this army man
is as straight as Gomer Pyle.
Good for you, soldier.
You learned that army men come in all orientations,
but we're all molded from the same crappy plastic.
Permission to pair up, sir?
Granted.
Radio man, a little dance music, if you please.
The local population hates us and we don't know
- why we're here. - Maybe if we build a school,
they'll forget about that hospital we bombed.
Uh-oh, Congress didn't fund enough body armor.
Well, this is too sad. Let's melt 'em in the microwave.
Oh, boy!
- Last word! - Shh!
- Sync and corrections by ByDem - - www.addic7ed.com -