The Simpsons

D'oh!

Simpson. Uh-oh. The boss.

Do you know what you've done?

You won the Count the Buttons in the Button Jar Challenge.

Thanks to him, you all get the rest of the day off.

Go home.

Live your lives. Don't look back.

Smithers, the bodies.

I had a great day, and I really want to celebrate with the boys.

So don't wait up for me, my sweet,

wonderful bartender, Moe.

All right, but who's the boys?

Marge's boobs. See ya.

Patty and Selma's car?! D'oh!

Homie, stop dropping rhymes and get dressed.

We're going to the 38th annual DMV Awards.

Aw, there are too many award shows.

People don't deserve so many awards.

People suck. They should just be grateful to be alive.

Get your best coffin suit, 'cause you're goin'.

You're at table one,

next to the bathroom, furthest from the bar.

Patty and Selma are producing the Surlys this year.

Hamilton's gonna win everything.

Fred Hamilton. Window six.

He can make every person in the room

feel like their number is the furthest from being called.

You know, Selma, James Bond has a license to kill.

Stop forcing banter!

But a lot of people would kill for these licenses.

Heckle! Heckle!

For Funniest Vanity Plate,

the nominees are I Heart Heart Doctors,

from the writing team of...

A team?!

Beep-beep, beep-beep. Beep-beep, beep-beep.

Objects may be sexier than they appear.

That's it. I'm leaving.

Take me! You'd slow me down!

Lisa Simpson here, covering the Surly Awards

for Springfield Elementary School Radio, WSES.

Ooh, here comes an audience member now.

One guy in the In Memoriam reel was alive when it started!

Don't forget your gift bag!

It's just a coupon for a dollar off at the car wash,

but if you don't have one, the lady at the car wash

will give you one from out of a drawer!

Homie, come back!

You're the next presenter!

The winner is me 'cause I'm leaving!

Stomach filled with rage.

Must quench with French fries.

Five Krusty Burgers. No tomato.

Sorry, sir. We no longer serve Krusty Burgers.

But it's your name! It's as if Macy's didn't sell Mace!

Our corporate parent in Kumamoto, Japan,

has instituted the following fun and nonnegotiable changes...

Hey, hey! Try our Buttermilk Sriracha Sandwich,

Kobe Shiitake Ciabatta Explosion,

and Hanoi Honey Barbecue Banh Mi Pho-furter.

Get 'em quick, before they're Sai-gone!

Oh, I just want a one-pound burger

that a snake couldn't fit its mouth around.

Sorry. We no longer sell the Python Buster.

Would you like some Kombucha Kimchi Mini Tacos instead?

Just give me a cup.

That's beet aioli.

No!

People! Beware! The crap you love to eat

has been replaced by food!

Heavenly Father, I know you're a friend of the eating man.

You created Sunday so we can have brunch.

Please, O Lard, shower me with your divine grease

and deliver me some egg rolls.

Or pizza or hot dogs. Whatever I can eat while driving.

For thine is the flower and the gravy forever.

A menu

would be great.

Thank you.

Help you?

Um, what's the healthiest thing in this place?

Chewie, we're home.

Chewie is what I call my mouth.

I really don't care what you call your mouth.

Ah.

Just in time for breakfast.

Hi, guys.

So, Homie, I'm sure you have a good explanation

for where you were. The best.

I was eating hot dogs.

Hot dogs?

That is so stupid it must be the truth.

I bet you're picturing me as a hot dog right now.

Absolutely not!

And these weren't just any hot dogs...

they were Deuce's Caboose chili dogs!

We were worried sick!

What do you think we are,

man?

Take that.

Ow! No fair!

She nut-butted me.

Deuce's Caboose, eh?

We used to take you there when you were a boy.

I don't remember any of that.

Well, you were young then, and you're stupid now.

Your mom and me dropped you off there every Wednesday afternoon

while we tuned up our marriage.

Turn here. Oh, you just love to tell me what to do.

We come here every week, and you get lost.

Please stop fighting. Oh, you would just love it

if we did that, wouldn't you?

He'll take a small soda and sit there for 50 minutes.

Hey, kid, have a chili dog,

on the house.

If we split up, no one gets Homer!

That's when I started eating my emotions.

Oh. You poor guy.

Fat-man begins.

Well, it taught me a great coping skill.

Eating is to me what drinking is to me.

I just wish I had something aggravating in my life

to make me hungry now.

Hello!

Uh, Homie, Patty and Selma lost their jobs at the DMV,

because they spent too much on the award show.

We went over the $43 budget.

By $100,000.

To save money, I said they could live here for a while.

And don't forget, we have a baby and an iguana.

And they both have different sleep schedules.

What they do have in common is diarrhea.

And we forgot to bring diapers.

Hey. You remember me as a kid, right?

No, sir.

But you called me your "Little H-Dog," remember?

Look, man, I'm getting up there.

I can barely remember the starting lineup

of the 1961 Chicago Blackhawks.

Uh, Bobby Hull; Al Arbour;

Ed Litzenberger, captain;

Stan Mikita; and... that's all.

Also, Dollard St. Laurent.

But not you.

I'm sorry, sir.

Okay, people,

what have you got? We're being killed

in the ratings by the morning announcements.

Attention,

the bus that took 30 kids on a "field trip"

was not from this school.

If anyone's mom can go pick up 30 students in Chinatown,

it would be much appreciated.

Why didn't we break that story?!

Damn it, we're even being beaten by Jimbo's podcast.

Today on Left, Right & Center, we'll discuss whether

to punch someone in the left, right, or center.

Our special guest today

is upside-down nerd, Milhouse Van Houten.

Thanks for having me back.

Aren't we just supposed to do the stories we want

and not worry about ratings?

That's kindergarten talk.

This is professional fourth-grade radio.

Meeting's over.

I've got to put the balls back in.

I'm the smartest ball in the bag.

You could be replaced, and it wouldn't be hard.

A cinder block with a stretched-out belt

would do the trick.

No one's eating at my place.

No one!

I'm a self-hating chew.