The War of Art

Lisa wants a dot-dot-dot guinea pig"? Mm. (humming happily) (curious grunt) (yells) (Homer smacking and chewing) (gulps, swallows) (curious grunt) Hey, Homer, did you know that guinea pigs are self-groomers? And when they get excited, they jump straight up. It's called "popcorning." Lisa got to you. I don't know how, but she got to you. (phone buzzing) (chiming) Emojis. Now she's gone too far. Lisa, your father and I are very concerned about all this hinting. (groans) I've never had a pet of my very own. My clock is ticking. I don't want to be one of those girls who waits till she's 16 to decide if she's ready, and then it's too late. (both grunt) Well, we've talked about it. And if you really want a guinea pig, you'll have to sign this contract. "I, Lisa Simpson, hereby promise to take full responsibility for this dog, cat, other." Circle "other." "This includes feeding, bathing, "cleaning of droppings and barfings, and when the time comes, burying or flushing." Boilerplate, boilerplate, boilerplate. We can skip all this litter box stuff. "If pet becomes lnternet superstar, all rights revert to father." Sign here, here, initial here, one more over here. And done. Oh, my God! I'm getting a guinea pig! Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you! The kid-parent contract. Unenforceable, yet you feel like you didn't completely cave. You're doing the right thing adopting a rescue pig. You know, most of these guys are rejects from the big guinea-pig mills in the Midwest. Oh, I can't tell you how many mill pigs we get in here who have bumblefoot or the slobbers. You don't have children, do you? This one whistled at me! Ooh, that could be the one. Oh, but that orange guy looks like a pumpkin. (gasps) But this fellow is so fuzzy! Well, they all have their charms. This one's nibbling a sunflower seed. Look at that hair. Aw, I just want to comb it forever! Have you seen a pinker nose? (gasps) I have now! Lisa, you've just got to choose one. Lisa? She's gone, honey. She's gone. That one's fur looks like a tuxedo! A Band-Aid on its tail, aw! (gasps) Albino! I'm definitely getting this one. Oh, but I forgot about this one. Oh, my God, I never even saw this one! (gasps) Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh... Maybe I should get that sick one. If I don't, no one else will. (gasps) Bart, list your top five, best to worst. No, no, no, no! Worst to best. I just wish the gray one had the brown one's personality. Okay, Dad, give me your phone. I need to look at the pictures again. Aw, aw, aw! Aw, aw! Okay, this is the guinea pig that will make me happy. She thinks she's decided. Don't say a thing. Don't blow this. Okay, now, you sure you only want just one? They tend to do better in pairs. (gasps) I could get two? (engine revs, tires screech) Homer: Farting tweakers rule! I've tried to give Pokey a perfect replica of his natural habitat. Peruvian feather grass, an lncan sleeping mat, and a portrait of Marisol Espinoza, the Vice President of Peru. Are you sure you didn't create a perfect habitat for you? I wish I could live in there. Well, there's plenty of room because Pokey's gone. (Lisa gasps) Where'd he go? (squeaking) This looks like a job for... fireplace tongs. (tongs clang, Pokey squeaks) No! (Pokey squeaking) Oh, my God! He's in the walls! I hear chewing. No, that's a much bigger animal. (grunts) Kettle corn. The heroin of the farmers' market. I've lost my guinea pig! (squeaking, tapping nearby) Pokey! Our boat painting! I'm sorry, Mom. (groans) That's okay, sweetheart. Your pig thingy didn't mean it. It's just, it felt comforting to know that while we watched TV, there was art going on behind us. (moans) Oh, well, I guess we have to go to an art gallery and buy a new painting. Sure, we could go to a fancy gallery and spend a bunch of money, or... Mm... hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm? Yeah, Milhouse played the violin for years until it turned out the vibrations were screwing up his bones. Yeah, these seem great. (sniffs) Oh, too bad someone used cello rosin. (groaning in frustration) (gasping in awe) Oh, my gosh, that's beautiful! I've never seen a painting with a lighthouse before. (Luann laughs) Oh, that. That was on the wall of Kirk's bachelor pad, back when we were (whispers): separated. Yeah, it's a great piece. I didn't have a mirror, so I shaved in the reflection of the chrome frame. This could be our new living room painting. I don't know. How about this poster of a really rocking jukebox? You know it's rocking 'cause music notes are coming out of it. Painting's only 20 bucks. Oh, please, Homie? I'll throw in the tiny violins. (Homer humming classical melody) Oh, it looks great! Well... to me, it looks like... garbage salad. But that's the great thing about art. Everyone can have their own opinion about why it sucks. I've got to get rid of this ugly chrome frame from Kirk's bachelor bad. I hate to think of the things this mirror has reflected. Hmm! Hey, look. There's a signature that the frame covered up. "Johan Oldenveldt." Here he is! "Johan Oldenveldt, painter. "Lived in Amsterdam, Paris. Prolific early 20th century naturalist." Ooh, I think this was painted by someone famous. Maybe it's valuable. We should have it appraised. Pfft! You guys are crazy. I never even heard of that guy. It's not like it was painted by Leonardo Da Vinci Code. Now, here's what makes art valuable-- One: nudity, two: holograms, three: something terrible happening to Jesus. Ah yes, seascape, marvelous natural light, classic use of gouache. You're right. This is an early-career Oldenveldt. Quite valuable. Oh, my God! I expect it to go somewhere between 80 to $100,000. (gasps) Nobody touch it! Bart, stop looking at it! But I want to see it! No, you'll wear it out! Baby, you saw something in this painting, and you were right. Wow, the Van Houtens owned this for years, and never knew how much it was worth. Think how happy they'll be when we sell it and split the money with them. Split it? Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa... whoa! (cell phone ringing) Homer: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa! Oh! Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Split it with them? Kirk and Luann didn't know what the painting was worth when they sold it. Yes, they sold it to us. So, now it's our painting. We can hang it on our wall, cut eyeholes in it to spy on people. Or sell it for lots of money which we keep. For ourselves? This dude gets it. (groans) But the Van Houtens are our friends. Are they, Marge? If you think about it, aren't they really just the parents of a kid who happens to hang out with our kid? All our friends are like that. Well, how would you feel if we sold them something that turned out to be valuable? I would feel A) Happy for their good fortune, B) Proud to know rich people, and C) Grateful for an opportunity to learn from a mistake. (door bell chimes) Marge: How about this? What if we give the Van Houtens 25% of the money? Then they'll just be mad about the 65% that we're keeping. Marge, you like kindness, right? Sure. So, even if we gave Kirk and Luann some of the money, the knowledge of what they could have had will eat away at them, like piranhas devouring a wounded yeti. It's kinder never to tell them. Okay, I see your point. We should sell the painting, keep all the money, and don't tell the Van Houtens. Mm-hmm! (deep inhale) (gasping) (deep inhale) (Marge and Homer gasping) What'll it take to buy your silence? Hmm. Okay, Milhouse, the guys in back are shining up your new bike. And all I have to do is not say anything about some painting to my Mom and Dad? Oh, sweetie, you want your parents to be happy, don't you? I guess. (laughing): "I guess"! You're funny! No wonder Lisa's in love with you. She is?! She is?! So, if I keep my mouth shut, you get me new wheelie sneakers, and Bart agrees to promote and encourage use of my new cool nickname, "C.J." (Homer grunts) You got it, Ceej. (doorbell rings) You found out that painting was worth big bucks, and you weren't gonna tell us?! I don't know what you're talking about. (loud whisper): Hide the treasure! I'm sorry, Mr. S. I cracked! We had a deal. And now we've got nothing! (blows) We considered you our friends. We trusted you! I let Homer use our master bathroom! Then you stab us in the back! If you knew you sold a valuable painting for nothing, how could you live with yourselves? We were just trying to be... kind. Kind?! You call it kind to give us nothing? We were gonna treat you to dinner at an upscale chain restaurant and never explain why, but now forget it! Oh, so that's how it is! That's exactly how it is. Oh, is it?! Oh, it is! (clears throat) Luann, I hope we're still on Thursday for collecting used cell phones for the troops. I don't think you need any help. You're so good at... collecting. Oh! Oh, that was cold, Luann! So cold! Brr! Sarcastic brr! See what happens when we get greedy? Honey, there's something I want to show you. An ATM receipt? I don't know whose this is. I found it next to the cash machine, and I've always kept it. Look at the balance. Five figures! With that painting, we could have what these people have: a money cushion. No more living paycheck to paycheck, one lost retainer away from the gutter. I could write a check with today's date on it. That's the cushion. ♪ Tonight, a special report. Fat cat art experts take advantage of John and Jane Yard Sale. So, would you characterize your friend of many years cheating you out of your painting as no big deal, or a devastating betrayal? Oh, definitely betrayal, Kent. Interesting. So if you see the Simpsons walking down your street, lock your doors and hide... your friendship. Great! Now we're raccoons, the masked bandits of the animal world! Don't worry. No one's going to see this stupid show. (Marge and Homer gasp, tires squeal) (gasps) The whole town's turned against us! (engine revs, tires squeal) Ooh, a support rock! This one's against us. This one's for us. For, for, against, for, against... We don't even get this many Christmas cards. (all clamoring) (all gasp) There they are, the Masterpiece Thievers! Ah, shut your bone hole! That painting belongs to the Simpsons! Sharing is what makes a community strong! All sales are final! Keep it! (clamoring) Finders keepers, moron! You really think we're still doing the right thing? Just close your eyes and think of the cushion. First lot: "Untitled Landscape" by Johan Oldenveldt, from the Collection of Homer J. and Marge B. Simpson. Let's open the bidding at $80,000. The paddles, Marge! Look at the paddles! Woman: Stop the auction! That painting belongs to me! (crowd gasps, murmurs) Dawn? Good to see you again, Beef Kirky. Kirk who is this woman? Uhhhhhh... While you two were separated, Kirk and I used to be friends... with banana-fits. (Homer groans) You told me you didn't see anyone during our separation. Uhhhhhh... Madam, are you saying this painting belongs to you? Kirk stole it from me! But I didn't know it was valuable till I saw the story on TV. What?! I bought that painting! She's lying! (gavel raps) The auction is on hold until we can determine the true ownership. Our cushion! Don't bother coming home, Kirk! Aw! See what your greed has done? Ow! Anyone want to give me a ride home? Going once? Going twice? (bangs gavel) Sold! To the lonely auctioneer! Ah! (cheering, laughter) Thanks for taking me in, man. I guess I can't help but feel fully responsible. Oh, Luann, I'll never gaze from my thick eyeglasses into your thick eyeglasses ever again. What you need, my friend, is a Canadian Duff. Beauty, eh? So... why does that chick think she owns the painting? Oh, Dawn and I went on a vacation to a resort island called lsla Verde. I bought the painting in a café, but that night she ran off with a parasailing instructor. Not your fault, man. Those parasailing guys take whatever they want. It was never her painting. That woman will say anything to keep herself in electric cigarettes. And I'd go back to that Café Artiste to prove it, but nothing's gonna get me Luann back. (snoring) Okay, all I gotta do is take a quick ferry to lsla Verde, find Café Artiste, and they'll back up Kirk's story. That will prove the painting was his-- and now ours. Oh, Homer Simpson, that painting has torn the town apart, destroyed Kirk and Luann's marriage, and everyone's very worried about Milhouse. He's been playing Dancing Revolution for hours, but the TV is off. But our cushion! That picture has brought out the worst in everyone! Please! Just let it go! (grunting) You're not going to let it go, are you? I wish I knew how. This is so exciting! My first time establishing provenance! Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just remember, if your mother asks, I took you to a wine tasting. That's a horrible thing for a father to do. That's why she'll believe it. Hmm, this quaint artist community has gotten a little touristy. ♪ Excuse me. We're trying to find Café Artiste. Ah, yes. Top of the hill. Three discos up, four gelatos on the left. You can't miss it. It's right between the disco and the gelato place. Mmm. Hmm. Mm-mm! (door bell jingles) Mm... Welcome to Café Artiste! Would you like a glass of Strupo? It's a liqueur made of fermented capers, the official drink of the island. Mmm! Sounds delicious. It's not. Hey, a friend of mine, uh, bought a painting here. Oh, yes, I remember that painting. And that is the man I sold it to. And that man sold it to me! That proves the painting is mine! And nothing can stop me from selling it and keeping all the money! I love art! Man: Art? What do you know about art? You don't even know who painted that picture. Yes, I do. It's a Johan Oldenveldt. Wrong! It's a me! A what? I painted it! Me, Klaus Ziegler! Who? Mm! Oh! This is where I painted your so-called Oldenveldt. Prove it. Aw, crap! You're a forger? "Forger" is such a cruel word. I'm an art forger. Your painting was an early, clumsy effort which I gave to the café owner to pay off my Strupo tab. Whew! Then why did the auction house say it was real? I have fooled galleries around the world with my loving imitations. Ziegler! Ziegler! Ziegler! Ziegler! Ziegler! Ziegler! What you do is horrible... ripping off geniuses who spent years perfecting their styles. Perhaps you are the one who is horrible. What?! You only cared about that painting when you thought it was created by someone famous. Well, no, but now when I look at it, all I see is a fraud. Beauty is beauty. My forgeries give pleasure to people all over the world. The only real question to ask about art, whether it's in the Louvre or on a freshman's wall at Cal State Fullerton is, "Did it move you?" But, you still, I mean... Oh, I suppose you're right. What if I never liked the painting and only wanted it for money? Then you, I respect. (groans) Oh, great. The painting is worthless, (glass shatters) this was all for nothing, and when Marge finds out, she's gonna kill me. Well, on that front, perhaps I can be of assistance. If there's one thing art is good for, it's to melt the frost which often hardens a woman's heart. While you're at it... could you make me a couple more? I'll pay you in Strupo. (sighs) Perfect. Oh, now that's art. (grunts) Rocking. Ziegler: The Gray Troll, Brine of Madness, Angel's Urine, all names for the mysterious elixir known as Strupo. Though this fermented caper solution was originally used to dissolve seagull corpses, local alcoholics soon found Strupo to be a palatable drink of last resort. The noxious liqueur causes powerful olfactory hallucinations, gender confusion, and wandering mouth. So if you visit lsla Verde, be sure to say "ahoy" to the crushing addiction of Strupo. Strupo: lose everything.