The Simpsons

(Johnny Carson Tonight Show theme playing)

Live from Rigel 7, Conquerors of Rigels 4 through 6,

it's the 25th annual Treehouse of Horror!

With special guest stars Jennifer Lawrence,

Warren Beatty, John Travolta,

Clint Eastwood, George Clooney,

Prince, Taylor Swift, Sean Penn,

Bruce Springsteen, Helen Mirren,

Morgan Freeman, James Franco,

Kanye West and... Leonardo DiCaprio.

Why?

This has been a bad week, even for you, Simpson.

Concrete in the sandbox?

I don't get lost anymore!

Spreading the rumor that today's lunch would be served by a naked lady.

-Move it! -Boobs! Boobs!

I want to see boobs in the soup!

There is no naked lunch lady! Bart made it up!

Yes, yes, I-I knew that.

There's no hope for you, Simpson.

You'll be locked in detention until you graduate to the penal system.

Penal.

Stop laughing! I said "penal," not "penile."

Penile.

It's not like you made me say "penis"!

Hmm.

Ow! Oh.

Someone could get really hurt by this.

-Stick your finger in that desk. -Really, Bart?

Hmm, looks like ancient Aramaic.

Fortunately, I have an app for that.

Hey!

"He who reads this rune translation

will be taken to damnation"?

-(alarm sounding) Simpson!

Huh?

We're in Hell?!

Cool! Now I can look up all those people

who said "See you in Hell."

Hey, pal, what are you in here for?

Heresies, like Docetism.

Docetism?

The belief that Jesus' body was just an illusion.

-Is that still big? -Haw haw!

Your heresies were venialized by the council of Palermo.

Oh, shut up, shut up, shut up!

We've got millipedes, toothheads, screaming torsos...

...your bleeding eyes with finger-legs.

And all the girls are mean girls.

Red dress, how original.

Making fun of someone's clothes, how original.

Huh. You want to walk with us?

It's true.

It would be a cold day in Hell when I was popular.

Huh?

Young man, where's your Hell pass?

Skin him!

Whoa. (gasps)

-(grunts) -Huh?

Hmm.

So, what would be the appropriate eternal torture

for someone who robbed a bank?

-(flame whooshing) -(groans)

Someone who robs a bank.

How would you punish them for all time?

Mm... Jeffistopheles?

Uh... wh-whipping?

Okay. Good.

No one likes to be whipped,

but is there anything more connected to the sin?

Torture?

What if you made the robber eat bags of money

until his stomach exploded?

Good. Very good.

-(high-pitched whooshing) -Mm.

Psychological torment.

Pain plus fear.

Oh, can you all feel how much richer that is?

You get a pumpkin sticker.

Ow.

This has never happened before.

I have a crush on my teacher!

Down here, we can make that happen.

Every time the sinner screams in pain,

the scream blows this windmill,

which pumps even more piranhas into his aquarium underwear,

-causing more screaming. -Wow. Wow.

Oh, that is so evil.

And I know evil. I'm head of the teachers' union.

Bart, I found a portal back to Earth.

Right here?

No, no, no, no! That's Super Hell!

Hot Stuff? I didn't realize you were that evil.

No, I'm being punished for how lame my comics were.

I melted it. Get it?

Welcome to Earth. Local time is 10:37.

We know you have your choice of portals,

so thank you for choosing the Burns Hellport,

a division of Gulf and Western.

-Mom, Dad, I want to change schools. Hmm?!

I found a place that really wants to teach me,

and I really want to learn.

Homie, our prayers have been answered.

Keep your pants on, Marge.

It's probably some private school

that costs a million dollars a year,

and then they squeeze you for extra money

through book fairs and silent auctions.

And parents get 20 e-mails a day from the school,

and everyone hits "reply all" to everything.

Dad, it's not a private school. It's free.

Oh, that's fine then.

I couldn't help noticing this school is located in--

I'm not one to judge, but, um...

I'll say it, Marge. It's in Hell!

The Inferno! Perdition!

Arizona without the golf!

No. We do have golf, but all the greens are tricky.

-No! -Look, as educators,

our job is to gently nurture your child's passion.

Hmm. That is the kind of nonsense you're always falling for.

Mom, please tell me I can go to Hell.

Well, I guess we could try it for a semester.

Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

You know, we have many opportunities for parent involvement.

Yeah, I'll be sure to take a look at that.

Hmm.

Now, students, it's final exam day,

and none of you wants to repeat the class

like a certain student I don't want to embarrass.

-Torture? -(groans)

Beelzebart, you're first.

And you're going to torment a very special sinner

we've prepared just for you.

Homer?

That-That's my dad.

I can't hurt him.

No, boy. I want you to do it.

What? Why?

Bart, you went to Hell

and came back a winner, like Jesus.

Now, come on, boy. Pull me apart like string cheese.

D'oh! D'oh! (shrieks)

Webster defines success as the action of achieving one's goals.

Don't you, Webster?

I don't care! Why am I here?

You changed the "R-E" to "E-R" in "theater."

I hate that!

Well, I'll tell you who is supposed to be here--

class mal-edictorian, Beelzebart Simpson.

Which one's yours?

Nice.

That was me, when I was a young hoodlink,

with me three bestest glugs, Leonard, Carlton, and Dum.

We was narsty tastards, we were,

even though we dressed like Carol Channing's backup dancers.

Some days, we'd employ a bit of the bash

while having a go at the West End Wiseguys...

Ooh, stop it! Hey, pally, come on.

Hey, what's wrong with youse?

Ooh, I was told this would be a verbal debate! Ooh!

...and cap off the night with a little of the ol' in-out.

In. Out. -(bell dinging)

In. Out.

In. Out. In. Out.

Everything was all fish and chippy

until Dum collected himself a twiggy-wick.

Hello, little lamb.

What say we go back to my place

for a little of the old Luther Van?

Oy! I'm getting hitched to this bluebird,

and she wants me to give up the glug life.

Welly, welly, well, well, well.

What sorry future could you have

without your truest lunos by your side?

Dum got a job at the Tower of London as a Beefeater!

I hope it's what I think it is.

Who knew, my brothers, that when Dum found his Dumpling

that was the end of our band of glugs?

Leonard and Carlton informed me my leadership

was no longer needed.

Wha...

Not the Shard! Not the Shard!