The Simpsons

Season 21 - Episode 03 - The Great Wife Hope -

Yes!

How did you ever come up with an idea like "crazy bowling"?

I Googled "girls having fun,"

and after wading through 97,000 pages of porn,

I found "crazy bowling."

That's odd.

There isn't a single man in this whole bowling alley.

... the pin!

It's pretty sad when I can't pick up a guy on Super Nacho Tuesday.

Where'd they all go?

You know men. Probably at a baseball game or a bar.

Come on, you pansies!

I've seen fiercer fights in Parliament!

Yes, what is this, Prime Minister's Question Time ?

Yeah, is it that?

There's no better violence than self-inflicted violence.

Thanks for bringing me here, dad.

I'll remember this day on my deathbed.

Not everyone has a deathbed, son. You could die suddenly.

Maybe some punk kid will shoot me to get into a gang.

Maybe.

Three hours of half-naked guys fighting like animals.

Just like the ancient Romans.

Yeah, except their empire was falling apart.

Stupid Romans.

Ask him.

Sir, could you sign my program with a swear word?

Filthy but obscure with a subtle scatological undertone.

Sure, no problem.

- $25, please. - Pay the man, boy.

Now, listen, son,

I know we saw some awesome beat-downs tonight,

but remember: don't try this at home.

Do it at the schoolyard.

Someplace where, if you get hurt, we can sue not just them

but the school, the county, the state, and that jackass Joe Biden.

Python neck clinch and... out.

Maybe I was promoted to green belt too early.

Next victim.

Here we go.

Where's your brother?

I don't know, chasing ducks, buried alive?

He'll be missed. Let's move: I got to collect pine cones.

Die, die, die!

Just follow the dies, Mom.

Why me? Why me?

I'm glad your father isn't here to see this.

Kill, kill, kill, kill!

Bart, let him go.

But Mom, I'm winning. Look at this, his lunch money.

God didn't give you legs so you could use them as scissors.

I was just doing the moves I learned from Ultimate Punching .

Ultimate Punching ?!

- "Ultimate" makes everything worse. - Not Frisbee.

- Otto, don't you have a sack to hacky? - Indeed I do.

One...

I messed up.

One... I messed up.

One...

I messed up!

I'm going to put a stop to this Ultimate Punching .

You can't stop an entire sport. You'd need several other mothers,

some sympathetic school officials and clergymen...

- A place to meet, some snacks... - What else?

A phone tree is invaluable. How you fixed for staplers?

Those fliers don't stick to phone poles by themselves.

Nelson, you really have a knack for this.

When I grow up, I hope to go into event planning.

Maybe someday you can do Lisa's wedding.

I'd like that.

- My God. - So violent.

- Bumped his nose! - He hit him.

This goes on for a while.

Call me a killjoy,

but I think that because this is not to my taste,

no one else should be able to enjoy it.

I'm all over that.

Don't do this.

This sport is as fun for me as having kids is for you.

Tell her, dad.

You love Ultimate Punching even more than I do.

Ultimate Punching is exploitative, violent,

and a bad influence on our young people.

Studies have shown your mother is right.

What the...?

Chocolate, whipped cream, cherries!

she got to you with a piece of Black Forest cake.

It wasn't just a piece,

it was the whole cake!

Frosting like snow

on the eaves of a Bavarian castle!

- Glad you didn't come cheap. - I couldn't help it!

She knew my one weakness:

that I'm weak!

One, two, we say boo!

Three, four, stop the gore!

Five, six, who's got tix?

Seven, eight, use that gate.

We need to take this into the belly of the beast.

Mr. Scalper, give me a ticket.

I am not a scalper.

I am a dude whose 200 friends did not show up.

- What do we do now? - Let's talk about Marge behind her back.

Have you ever noticed how that baby of hers never says a thing?

- I think it saw something awful. - Me, too.

- That's exactly what it is. - What else could it be?

That woman has natural breasts.

This can't be good.

I'm Marge Simpson, and I will not rest

until you tear down this septagon.

Crazy dame. Nobody tears down the septagon.

Except for the arena crew because Hufflesnuffs on Ice

needs the space tomorrow.

Wait a minute, I have a better idea.

Marge, I'm Chett Englebrecht,

UPKCC founder, commissioner,

and public face of the sport.

Pleased to meet you.

Guys, please.

When you yell like that, no one can hear me.

Chett, I'm here to ask you one simple thing:

please go out of business

and donate all your profits to charity.

At least in other sports, they're trying to put a ball in a net or a zone,

but in this sport they don't put anything in anything,

and if they did, I wouldn't want to see it.

Okay, you win.

Annoying lady, you make a great point.

I am going to shut down this sport.

- Really? - If you meet me

in the septagon, fight me, and beat me.

What?! That's crazy.

What's wrong, Marge?

Do you have to ask your husband?

- Good one! - Zing!

That flattens my soda pop. You're on.

- What'd I miss? - Nothin'.

Mom, you can't fight that guy.

Yeah, Marge, he'll knock your block off your beautiful block

Thank you, Homie.

Listen, of all the crazy things I've ever done,

This is the craziest, and you're doing it.

I can't back out.

This is for a cause that's bigger than I am.

If Gandhi could go without eating

for a whole three-hour movie, I can do this.

Besides, I'm a woman.

He'll probably go easy on me.

Or kick the crap out of you.

Watch your language, moron.

If I'm going to open a can of whup-tushy,

I'd better get in shape with some rhythmic gymnastics.

Someone's got to stop her from going through with this fight.

This goes against every feminist bone in my body,

but Dad, can't you control your woman?

How can I control her? I have nothing to withhold!

Oh, man, now she's writing cutesy things with the ribbon.

PEACE

UNDERSTANDING

Homer, this is bad.

One unlucky punch and Marge could be bedridden for life.

Unable to move anything but her left toe.

Yeah.

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