How Lisa Got Her Marge Back

(school bell ringing) (Barney belches) D'oh! (tires screeching) (grunts) Yech! (somber music) BART: Yes! (chuckles) (humming happily) (chuckles): Oh, China, is there nothing that can't be made in you? (gentle wind chime) Hmm. (humming happily) Ah, my first sucker. (chuckles) Oh, a dollar. Now I can have lunch. Hmm? It's a trick! I never needed these. (humming happily) (groans) Oh, lookie here, it's the ol' fishing line on a dollar bill prank. Man, even a backwoods, no account, inbred, lead-paint-eating, kerosene-huffing, roadkill-chomping, um, what was my point? That is a practical joke, Luann. Which is too bad, because I desperately need that dollar. I could also use the fishing line to get some dinner. Bart, if Milhouse is hiding with you, tell him he has to shop for school clothes. Yay! School clothes. This isn't right, no one's falling for my pranks. Huh! At least it wasn't a total waste. I found a quarter. (grunts with effort) (all laugh) Well, we sure got him good. Duh, what a moron, duh. I sure wish Archie was alive to see it. (engine starts) Duh (groans) ANNOUNCER: It's Thursday night, and that can only mean, counter-intuitively, football! BRITISH ANNOUNCER: From London's Wembley Stadium, the Jacksonville Jag-u-ars and Tampa Bay "Bucs" vie for Florida bragging rights. Asterisk: Does not include Miami. (to the tune of "Downtown"): When you're not happy Watching your Downton Abbey You can always see Oh! Football Not British Football But American Football Which has higher scores Touchdown. If these U. K. clichÃ©s are any indication, we are in for one gobsmacking match. To see or not to see. That is no question. Dad, I'm worried. No one is falling for my pranks anymore. Son, I know this seems like the biggest disappointment of your life, but trust me, there are going to be so many more. What you've got to remember is-- oh, my God, 13 men in the field! Review it, review it, review it. Yes! Play stands! (crowd cheering over TV) MARGE: Here comes the airplane! Zhoop! Thanks to your late football-watching, you missed breakfast. Eh, don't worry, Marge, I'll make my own. Meh. (bell dings) Mom, I've been working on a new solo jazz piece. (groans) Can I hear it? (playing jazzy tune) Oh, I'd love to stay and listen, but I'm late for work. Here's another super-fan to hear you lay down your licks. (car door shuts, tires screeching away) (solo ends) (panting, chuckling) Brava. (giggles) I knew you'd like it. (pacifiers pop) (groans) Hey, I am too young to be over the hill. Lucky for me, there's a Ralph born every minute. Hey, Ralph, how about a napkin? Do I look stupid? (humming cheerfully) Mmm! Wall licorice. (teeth chomp, electricity crackles) Aah! (Homer chuckling) Marge, nothing says "I'm sorry" better than flowers. Except for fundamental behavioral change, but you can't buy that at the supermarket. (sniffs) They do smell nice. Hey, Dad, want to hear my solo? I added a few variations today. Of course I would. Okay. Aw, my reed is split. I'll be right back. I've already heard Lisa's song once. I've had a long day, and to be completely honest, I really can't stand jazz. (startled gasp) What about when Lisa plays it? All the same. Ugh. (note plays) MARGE: Sounds great, honey. (sobs) So, you really don't like jazz? (chuckles) I never realized we have so much in common. And scat-singing. She-bee-bee-dee-dee-diddly-bop- dee-do I give a darn? So, all these years, you've been lying to me? (both gasp) Be-beep-ba-boop-boop. So, let's get it all out here. Mom, you were only pretending to like it this morning when I played My Funny Valentine. That was My Funny Valentine? Hoo-boy. Wouldn't expect you to get it. (sobbing): So busy juggling three children, you don't even notice when one is hanging by a thread, a thread you just cut forever! Lisa, this a family. You do not take that tone with another family member. You tell 'em, butterbean. Shut up, idiot. Lisa, honey, you're hurt, but hurting me back is not going to feel as good as you think. Just know that I am very, very sorry. Hmm! Hmph! Mm Hmm (high-pitched): Mm! Hm! (groans playfully) Good night, Marjorie. (gasps) MARGE: Marjorie. She called me "Mar-jo-rie. " So? Bart calls me Homer. You know that's out of disrespect. Dis-respect? Is that a word? Yes. And there's this guy at work that calls me Hoss. What's that all about? This is awful. Lisa and I have always been so close. Now, for your first day at school, you get what my mother gave me. Pearls? Just like Mommy's. Dad, is there anything you pass along? Predilection for kidney stones. What if Lisa doesn't want to be friends with me anymore? Marge, it's not your job to be friends with your kids, it's my job. Good night, sweetie. (sighs) Oh, uh, Bart and I are gonna see an R-rated movie Saturday. It has boobs, but they're elf boobs. Is that cool? Hmm. I guess. (Homer chuckles) So long, whoopee cushion. (fart noise) (sad music plays) Ah, good old peanut brittle. What the? A coiled wire spring covered by a snake-patterned vinyl sheath? (boinging, whirring, whistling) (mooing) Lisa, our weekend in Capital City will make us friends again. I don't see your saxophone. That must be a relief to you. Honey, I want you to bring it. Sure, should I grab some Kenny G CDs too? Some Chuck Mangione? That would be lovely! Oh, I-I get it, they're popular, so you don't like them. Just please get your sax. Airport shuttle? Yes, I'm going on a trip with a special little girl. That baby is adorable. Oh, it's not the baby. Great, now I've got both daughters mad at me. May I say that you sound like a terrible mother? But no one ever cares what the shuttle bus driver thinks. "Take me to terminal four," they say. Actually, we're at terminal three. Arguing with everyone today, aren't you? Okay, we'll see you on Monday, Homer. I'm feeling really sad too, Dad. Nothing cheers people up like a baby. Hey! Boy, we each have to do our part, and I'm gonna make dinner. And I'm gonna start with (gentle, happy melody playing) Ice cream! Come back! Don't make me jog. Why is your father chasing after the spay and neuter van? You got me. What do I do with you? (chuckles) Hey, this is fun. (groans affectionately) Wow. Wow! I like having a sister. Helps that you don't say anything. I wonder how you are at pranks. BOTH: We're not worthy. We're not worthy. (scared noises) I'm back! Don't drop that angel. Hi, folks, and welcome to the Capital City Dream Tour. If you're here for the Capital City Crime Tour, that leaves in 20 minutes. Let's wave to that to that ordinary hot dog vendor. (hip-hop music plays) Wow, he's anything but ordinary. You know, I wouldn't be surprised if he turned up one of Capital City's Broadway-caliber shows. (bright, brassy Broadway melody playing) (sighs) There's got to be something here that'll calm down little yellow pill. Here comes Paul To guard the mall But when will he fall in love? Hey, G. I. Jane Let's make it plain How do you train for love? Men in black We'll state a fact The thing that you lack is love. I always like when a black guy teams up with a white guy. It gives us hope. (gasps) That's the show for Lisa. She'll love it! The Bad News Bears? Is there nothing so beautiful that they won't keep exploiting till it's worthless? Well, they're expensive, which means if I die, you're still taking me. Also, I bought you a little present from a street vendor. They're earrings. He's a cool cucumber, huh? Mom, I'm really not into jewelry right now. (gasps) You're not wearing your pearls. Um, the clasp wasn't working. I can fix it. There are some things that can't be fixed. What are you saying? (sobbing): You really don't understand how much this has hurt me. Jazz is my thing, and you said you loved my thing, but you lied. You'll have a daughter someday, too. And when she yells at you like that she'll be right. (crying) LISA: Oh, who can sit with their back turned as their mother is crying? (continues crying) A jazz musician, that's who. Well, you guys understand. Don't look at me, I'm a pity present. I'm just glad I'm not in a salad. (continues crying) Oh Grand Papa, es muy glamouroso. Solo lo mejor para my princesa. (laughs) Why didn't I get in the quinceaÃ±era game years ago? (chuckles) Uh, excuse me, sir, I have three sisters turning 15. (gasps) Oh boy. Can you hold baby Maggie here, while I check out las tiaras para la quinceaÃ±era? Oh, a cute little rugrat like that? You betcha. Hey, look at ol' Gil holding a baby. I'm not even dropping it. Oh! Why did I say that? Now it's all I can think about. (porcelain shatters) Oh, every time I get a great job, I drop a baby. (both laugh) MARGE: If I can just get her to share an armrest, that would be a start. Hmm (groans) A ragtag bunch of misfits And a no-goodnik rub-a-dub How can I make them winners In baseball And at love? Hm. Corey Leak is a hip-shakin', rule-breakin' bad boy (effeminately): I'm a bad boy. But I've got a crush on Amanda, so I will mend my roughish (sustained): Way s-ah! Oh. KIDS: Here comes the tying run. Tie, Corey, tie. You're out! To you, I'm out But to me, I'm home CAST: Time for the Show stopper Yeah! The big cork popper (corks popping, audience applauds and whistles) Lisa, you're gonna have to admit it, your mom has the bad taste of well, a mom. I'm gonna have to mother myself. You quit complaining, and pretend you like it. (groaning quietly) I knew she'd come around. What's all this nonsense? (cheers and applause) Quit clapping, I've got a hangover. We'll win the game Of love! Exit to your left. (cheering and applause) That's too tight, Bill. (orchestra playing bouncy melody) Wonderful. Did it do it for you too? Not yet. Stand back. I said stand back. Who are you? Oh, you were our star tonight. That's a performance I'll never forget. So what are you sophisticated ladies up to next? Well, I thought we might have an after show nosh at the Penny Loafer. Invitation noted and accepted. (chuckles nervously) Well, good, because getting a table for three is so much easier. Hey! You're not Nathan Lane! (scissors clipping) (Homer humming happily) Here he comes. Aw, don't worry, Bart Jr., Daddy will get that for you. (grunts, spits) (grunts) Why you little (grunts) Dad, no! You're gonna strangle a baby! (gasps) Oh my God. That would've been horrible. Why you little (grunts) (chokes) Turning a sweet little baby into a you! (grunts) (Bart continues choking) Bart, you're a great kid, but if I had another one like you, I'd hang myself from a highway overpass. Please, give your sister the precious gift of not being you. Okay, Dad. Mags, it was fun while it lasted. Huh? Ha! I didn't know it was that easy. (chuckles) Stop that! (shrieks) Sideshow Bob! So, Lisa, think we'll see any stars? Mom, it's a tourist trap. Celebrities don't actually come in here. Until today, right? Well, you never know. I'll ask the hostess if anyone's expected. Aw, she keeps doing this. I'm sorry, what? Every time she tries to fix things between us, it just emphasizes how different we are. For what it's worth, my mom loved your show tonight. She pretty much sees the best in everything. Amazing, really, considering she has a husband who randomly shows up to work, a son who, God bless him, is probably heading for the chair. And an ungrateful little girl who ignores her mother's frantic attempts at reconciliation, and tells family secrets to a total stranger. A total stranger The New York Times calls "a charming presence. " You don't know me at all! But hardly anybody likes jazz. Why should I expect my mom to? That's right, you have to see the other side. The one that always makes you wrong. (sobs): Mom. Mom, I can't stay mad at you. I'm putting my pearls back on. Oh, thank you, sweetie. And I apologize for expressing my sincere feelings. (saxophone playing) (sighs) Why don't you show us what you got, Lisa? (chuckles) That's right, I learned your name. It's not all about me, Andrew Rannells. 20 bucks for ten minutes with the sax. ( playing intro to "Don't Rain on My Parade") Hey, that little turd can play. I'm just getting warmed up. (orchestra playing intro to "Don't Rain On My Parade") Don't tell me not live Just sit and putter Life's candy and the sun's A ball of butter Don't bring around a cloud BOTH: To rain on my parade My parade. Sorry. Don't tell me not to fly I simply got to If someone takes a spill, it's me, and not you Who told you you're allowed to rain on my parade Get ready for me, Love 'Cause I'm a "comer" I simply got to march My heart's a drummer Nobody, no Nobody Is gonna rain on (sustained): My parade (continues holding note, then song ends) Well, what do you think? My golden girl. (grunts) Straight ahead is the the 19th Street Liquor Store, the epicenter of the 1967 riots, which never fully stopped. (camera shutters click) Ahead is the high rise where State Senator Wilcox was shot in mid-air, as he plummeted to his death. (camera shutters click) (groans happily) Best trip of my life. (Lisa groans happily) @elderman (Lisa grunting) (playing Gerry Mulligan's "Apple Core") (snoring) (toy saxophone squeaking).