Donnie Fatso

(helicopter whirring) (exclaiming) (school bell ringing) (Barney belches) (whistle blows) (yells) (beeping) (playing the blues) (playing the blues) D'oh! (tires screeching) (grunts) (groaning) I don't even want to smell sparkling apple juice again. Aw. Poor baby. Come on, Bart. Afraid of a little apple juice? (laughing) Pig in a blanket! Dad's underwear. Aunt Selma's leg. I hate New Year's Eve. I can't believe I made out with Ryan Seacrest on the TV screen. (raspy groan) Let's just take it easy. We all made mistakes on New Year's Eve. There's only one upside to today. (snoring) Come on, just one more drink, Marge. BOTH: Happy New Year! Aah! (noisemakers blaring) MARGE: Everyone shush! Why are you hungover? I didn't see you drink last night. I didn't. I got secondhand wasted from smooching your father. So not a peep out of anyone till the Fiesta Bowl. That's not for five hours. I know when the freaking Fiesta Bowl is! Sweetie, relax. Let's just watch some TV. (drums pounding) New Year's Eve might be over in America, but we're still rocking hard in Samoa. And here come the Blue Angels waking up the shrieking wah-wah birds. (jet engines roaring) (raucous squawking) (siren whoops) Well, well, well. Simpson, you've committed Springfield's first crime of the new year. Write him up, Lou. Huh? What'd I do? Failed to separate your bottles and newspapers. That used to cover two public nudities and a poop in the park. (grumbles) Aah! That's vandalizing city property. Write him up again, Lou. What the hell?! Mild obscenity before 10:00 a. m. Also illegal. Come on, Lou. Give me a break. Sorry, sir. I take no pleasure in it. Da-da-da, dee, da-da-da, da-hah Oh, yeah. Since when is all this against the law? Since today. As of Jan one, a bunch of new ordinances-- with, uh, outrageous financial penalties-- took effect. Oh, I get it. The government runs out of money, so they pass a bunch of lame-o laws to sock it to the little guy. Fine. You're telling it like it is. Also a crime now. And that one's going to cost you. (Homer wails) That's almost $1,000! Rounding up your total-- that's a $50 fine. (whimpers) Wow, Homer. This year's only 11 hours old, and it's already your annus horribilis. My New Year's resolution was to learn Latin. Uh, listen, Homer-- I know a guy who fixes things for folks who need things fixed. But, uh, I can't talk about it here. Eh, still not private enough. Uh, this is private, but a little dank. Uh, whoopsie. Glinda, Madame Morrible, flying monkeys there, can you tell me how I can get back to my bar? Moe, you've always had the power to get back to the bar. Whoa! It's a chimpan-me. Maybe we should let these people enjoy their show. Homer, what you do is go down to window nine at the courthouse. You slip the guy 100 bucks, and your record is as clean as Uh, I ain't got nothing, uh, clean to compare it to. (groans) Ten minutes? I can't wait that long. I left an ice cream cone in my cup holder. (grunts) Hold on. I will get help. Must break glass. (grunting) No! (chuckling) (guns cocking) Homer Simpson, you are under arrest for attempted bribery of a public official. Chief, this is just a big misunderstanding. I meant to write "bride. " It's a wedding present. Oh, how thoughtful. Aah! My bribe! Cuff him, Lou. Oh, this is supposed to be the happiest day of my life, and it's ruined. Homer Simpson, you are hereby sentenced to ten years in the federal penitentiary. It's okay. It's okay. I can be out in 18 months with good behavior. We're Simpsons, Dad. We don't do good behavior. Don't tell me I'm not capable of good behavior! (gagging) (angry shouting) Your Honor, I would like to request a sidebar. Granted. (grunting) (screaming) CHIEF WIGGUM: Ten years. (clicking tongue) That is a long time to be away from your family. All that time I'll be stuck in my cell, unable to exercise. Actually, most convicts work out like crazy. I repeat: unable to exercise. Look, Simpson, there is one thing you can do to get out sooner, but, uh, it is extremely dangerous. Simpson, we are currently conducting a 20-year investigation into the activities of Anthony "Fat Tony" D'Amico. What, this guy? Oops. (wry laugh) We're going to plant you in Fat Tony's gang as an undercover informant. I can't go undercover with Fat Tony. He's met me. I've been in his house. I was briefly his "conserigliary" consugly canoliar Robert Duvall. Everyone knows Fat Tony, so we're going to plant you in the prison with a disguise and a new name. Can I be Johnny Undercover? That's a little obvious. Okay. Melvin Mafia. No. You will be known as Nicky "Blue Pants" Altosaxophony. Can I keep the name after I'm done? No. It belongs to the government. Oh. MAN (over P. A. ): No ice cream available! Children, stay away! (disappointed groans) (coos with admiration) Now, pay attention. We're going to move in on Fat Tony when he takes delivery on a shipment of Belgian guns. In your left sideburn is a fiber-optic camera. In your right, a wireless mic. To zoom in, you go, "Ayyy!" To zoom out, go, "Ohhh!" Ayyy. Ohhh! Ayyy. Ohhh! Fuhgetaboutit! That activates the auto-destruct. (howling, hooting) Dear Lord, watch over my sweet Homie while he's in the hoosegow. Keep him safe from shanks and shivs. Let him become rich in the jail yard currencies of cigarettes and dried fish. Uh, what's my name again? Okay, I'm coming. (inmate shrieks) I'd like a third helping, please. You do know the meat is made from diseased pigeons. Just get the ladle down there deep. That's where the beaks are. Hey, you're that guy from the FB-- mmph! Time to go to work. Stop licking my hand. There was barbecue sauce on it. Here's how it goes down: I rough up Louie. Then you stand up to me, earning his trust. But I haven't earned his trust if it's based on a lie. Enough of your dime-store morality. What's a dime store? I (groans) Aah! (guards laughing) Blue pants power! Ow! Hey. Hey, Nicky Blue, you're one tough yegg. If you come out of your beating in one piece, you and I should have a face-to-face. Beating? What beating? (gasps) Oh, that beating. Don't worry. We're not going to touch you. We'll make it sound like a beating by tenderizing these steaks. Can I have any of the steaks? No. (screaming) HOMER: That's so mean! Whoa! I'm impressed over here with that guy over there. Please! Let me have it! (agonized yelling) Come on! Give it to me right in the mouth! (Homer wails) (sighs) Well, back in my keister you go. We brought someone to spring you. Now, let us escort you to freedom. How are you going to do that? Let's just say this prison was built by Mob construction workers. He's in. Aw, for-- I was going to say that! What's going on? I called the prison and they won't tell me where Homer is. Sorry, Marge, I can't tell you. (sighs) If it makes you feel better, I can tell you about someone else. Ooh! How about Krusty in the drunk tank? Aha. (slurring): If, if Jews control the media, why can't I get on Jimmy Kimmel, huh? Huh? (frustrated groan) So. What do you think of the sauce? I detect a distinct lack of oregano. I'll take care of this. You carry oregano with you? Oregano, basil, rosemary I-I think I got a ketchup packet for you, boss. Did you order French fries and not use it? Well, they gave me two packets, but I only needed one. What other secrets are you hiding from me? I-I-I bring my own candy to the movie theater. Louie My beloved Anna Maria. I hope Heaven's powder room is painted that eggshell blue (cell phone buzzing) you could never achieve on Earth. (sniffs) (snuffling): Sorry, boss. No apology necessary. I am touched. You and me, Nicky. We feel. Legs, Louie, Jimmy the Axe, Tommy the Face-Shooter-- they never share my grief. (scoffs) Yeah. Those guys are probably FBI informants. You think an informant could get that close to me? Oh, yeah. I got in your gang, and you barely know who I am. That is good counsel indeed. You have earned my complete, unquestioning trust. But first, one little thing. You must make your bones. Wh-What are we doing here? I will tell you. When I call for my Russian business partner, Yuri Nator, I don't expect to be screamed at like I was some ten-year-old punk making a prank call. Yuri Nator? Yuri Nator! Hey, my mouth is begging for a Yuri Nator! (laughing) Be careful what you wish for. Why, you I'm going to chop you into little pieces, and make you into a Rubik's cube, which I will never solve! Well, I guess I could tell him he could improve his phone etiquette. Tell him with fire. (anxiously): Ooh-hoo. What's the matter, Nicky? You got a problem with this job? Oh, no, no! I was, uh, just thinking how cheap this crime would've been in the 70's, when gas was 35 cents a gallon. It was either this, or put in a ladies' room. (sirens approaching) Exquisite. As a reward, I've planned a little surprise for you. (yells) This is horrible! I keep smelling my own breath! Nicolas Blue Pants, you have shown great fazagabool in the face of overwhelming spoogatzagatini. Huh? You're a made man, my friend. Welcome! Ooh Nicky, welcome to the family. From now on, you don't know where you end and we begin. Your problems are our problems. My neck is kind of itchy. Then all of our necks are itchy. Now that you mention it, itchy like crazy! I gotta shave my back. Aw. Nicky, my friend, tonight is a big score I've been setting up for months. Just you and me. Sharing it together. To heterosexual male friendship, the kind the Greeks wrote about. (foghorn blares) Huh? Here they are! My Belgian guns. Belgian guns. I've been waiting half my life for this moment. SUPERVISOR (over radio): All units, move in! Tony, you got to get out of here, now! What? Why? Don't ask questions, just go! What's gotten into you? You're as nervous as a cat when Johnny Kick-A-Cat walks into the room. Verlaat de vuurwapens op het dok En wij kunnen een Chimay bier drinken! Get a shot of Tony with the guns. (nervously): Um, eh FBI SUPERVISOR (over radio): Closer. Ayyy FBI SUPERVISOR: Too close. Ohhh! Closer. Ayyy. Too close. HOMER: Ohhh! Perfect. Wait a minute. (sirens wailing) How could you, Nicky? I would have given you everything. In the strip club of my heart, you held the key to the champagne room. I loved you, man. (gasps) He's dead. No. You're wrong! Check again! Fuhgetaboutit. Homer, I just want to say that of all the rat bastards we've had working for us, you were the snitchiest. So that's it. You used me to kill a man, and all I get is a handshake and a blanket? We didn't say you could use the blanket. And I'm not gonna shake your hand. Poor Tony. He didn't deserve this. He was just a soldier in a war he started. (cooing happily) Homie, I know you had a terrible experience, but it's over. It's not over, Marge. It'll never be over. When I shut my eyes, all I see is Fat Tony and me having drinks at that bar on the beach. You never took me to that bar on the beach. Oh. Well, uh you wouldn't like it; it's not very good. Sounds pretty good. No, no, I oversold it. (thunder rumbles) I'd give anything to bring you back. MALE VOICE: Wake up, Homer. HOMER: Huh? Wha? (gasps) Fat Tony. No. I'm his cousin from San Diego-- Fit Tony. Wow, I've never seen a mobster use a track suit for exercising. And there's no better exercise than killing and disemboweling a big, fat snitch. I understand. I loved him too. (sobbing) Your tears seem in no way crocodilian. Do what you got to do. The quicker you kill me up here, the quicker he can kill me down there. Join me on the elliptical machines. I will let you live for I worked for Fat Tony. And he was the best boss I ever had. Well. This is awkward. What? Oh, uh, Mr. Burns! Uh, you were cool, too. Oh, I so believe that. He took me to a fight that he fixed, but he never let on, not even when I bet $500 on the wrong guy. (chuckling) Then he said he would dope a horse for me. Homer, it is time to switch your elliptical machine to cool-down mode. Are you going to kill me now? 'Cause I'm super ready. No. Because my cousin lives on in your memories. And to extinguish you would be to whack what still remains of him. Wow. The killers have been kind to me. While the people who are supposed to protect me treated me like dirt! What kind of a world is this? It's pretty screwed-up. That's why I keep my friends close. And your enemies closer? No, why would I do that? If they were close, they would kill me. HOMER: Fit Tony took his cousin's place running the Springfield mob. The pressures got to him, so he started to eat. Soon, he was known as "Fit Fat Tony," then just "Fat Tony" for short. And me? Now I'm just an average schnook like everyone else, stuck in this backwater burg where all you can count on is your family, and the only one who ever shot anyone is the baby. I have to admit, it's a pretty good life. (Sid Vicious' "My Way" playing) Regrets, I've had a few But, then again, too few to mention I did what I had to do I saw it through without exemption I planned each chartered course Each careful step ("My Way" fades out) Shh!