The Simpsons

Ah.

In case you were wondering why I'm so tired...

- I wasn't. - I was up late

watching French films... in French.

And then, last night, my dreams were in French!

My dream is you keep moving.

Lisa Simpson, a bright girl in a dull school.

She likes the sound a Sharpie makes

when she does well on a test.

She adores the woody sweetness of a fresh baritone reed.

Mmm.

But she hates, more than anything,

finding a place to eat at lunch.

What was this?

You will soon see.

Frankly, I am redundant.

"J. Beardsley."

Jasper!

Suddenly, in the middle

of this crap school, a mystery!

Meanwhile, for the first time in his life,

Homer would be disappointed in a kitchen.

Oh, my God. Leftovers!

Air, nothing, more air, space, air,

not spaghetti, not meatloaf,

missing chili, absence of mac and cheese!

There must be some food here.

The devil's trees.

No!

- Homie, relax. - Okay.

I've decided to be a Tubberware salesperson.

Tubberware? Isn't that the thing

where you find people to host parties

where you then sell everyone plastic food boxes?

Well, you do your Kickstarters.

Hey, if people pay to send me on my tour

of rocking chairs in the Midwest, that helps everyone.

We really could use the money.

They're still garnishing your wages

after that garnish war you waged.

Please, Homie.

I want to open a checking account

so the family finally has one.

Marge, no wife of mine will ever have to work.

Is what men used to say for some insane reason.

You have my blessing.

Where's Jasper? He's late again.

Maybe we should feed the birds without him.

Don't tell me you fed the birds without me?

You were in a coma!

Mein Gott, what else happened?

You won't like who's president.

It's not Bernie?

Lisa returned Jasper's childhood,

and all she wanted was her own secret giggle.

Jasper.

Oh, my God.

What do you got there? A bento box?

Somebody's ashes? Apple TV?

Oy. One more guess, and I'm gonna need a nap.

When I was six years old,

I brought my treasure box for show-and-tell.

Another kid took it, never gave it back.

And now, somehow, it's here.

I've been angry my whole life, but suddenly,

the world seems... magical.

For the first time ever,

Lisa experienced a feeling

that could only be described as... magnifique.

I don't mean to overstate this,

but the sun is shining a little bit brighter,

because of me!

Tubberware? I'd love to buy some.

No, you don't buy it now.

You have a party, and then I sell it to your friends.

No!

You have the party at your house...

Oh.

Then, when your friends fill out the order forms, we...

Oh.

If you host a Tubberware party,

you get an exclusive gift: a lemonade pitcher!

Ma'am, if the good Lord wanted us to store juice in plastic,

he wouldn't have made a possum's bladder watertight.

Okay, Marge, you're like

a black hole of sadness and split ends.

What is wrong with you?

I haven't booked a single Tubberware party.

I don't know why I thought I could do this.

I don't have that... What's the Jewish word for "chutzpah"?

You mean you have no confidence?

I don't. I always take the bad pancake.

I spend so much time putting sunscreen on everyone else,

I get sunburned.

Ooh. Just like with a doormat, the key is underneath.

- Huh? - You know what?

I will throw a Tubberware party for you.

But it's gonna take me a while to plan.

- How about tonight? - You're on!

What the heck are you doing?

That's a punchbowl, and that's for leftover lasagna.

What?! Whoever heard of leftover lasagna?

Maybe you should just go to Moe's.

Fine, but I'm not gonna get drunk.

Oh, okay, sweetie, I'll get drunk.

I just can't stay sober at you.

Ah!

I can't do this. I can't do this!

Can't? Can't? Marge, I never want

to hear you use the C-A-next-Tuesday word again.

You need to tap into your female warrior side.

I don't have one of those.

Then we're gonna have to create one!

Makeover time!

Okay, think pretty thoughts!

Now, get rid of those things on your feet and put these on.

Mmm. It changes my whole body.

And what is going on back there?

Behold, your rump has become... a booty, baby!

Mm-hmm.

Now go out there and sell some thingies!

Mmm.

Julio,

what is this? I don't want to sit

through some kind of sales pitch.

I just want a simple evening of appetizers,

cocktails and nitrous oxide.

Hello, boys.

I see you're checking out the merchandise.

Let me assure you, the lids match the tubs.

Mm. Mm-hmm.

Oh. You should have told us this was a drag Tubberware party.

He's the most convincing woman I've ever seen.

Oh, oh, yes, yes.

He is quite the impersonator.

He calls himself "Marge."

Perfect! "Marge."

If she were any more camp, she'd be a Coleman lantern.

All right, boys, let's put tops on bottoms.

And you wanted to go dancing.

Mm. Mm-mm-mm-mm.

And voilà... a Marge-tini!

But don't worry.

That's not the only surprise I've got tucked away.

- She's funny. - Bea Arthur funny?

No one's that funny.

And that night, Marge sold more Tubberware

than she ever imagined.

And I, drawn by the farcical premise,

began narrating her story, too.

Look at all these orders!

I'm really good at this.

Yeah, well, uh, you see, um...

"Marge" is good at this.

Yeah, Marge. Me. I'm Marge.

Okay, so here's what happened, okay?

This is so important, I'm gonna drop the accent.

Everyone thought

you were a drag queen.

I felt so pretty, but the whole time,

people thought I was a man.

A man who looked like a fabulous woman!

Drag queens can be very beautiful. Exhibit: me.

I call myself "Penelope Cruising."

I was Mr. Burns's date for the Kennedy Center Honors.

See? Look how cute I am.

All his dates have to give him transfusions.

Now I know why he said I was his type.

You get it?

Well, the next time, I'm just going to be myself.

But that was you, you with confidence.

Oh, you're just being nice.

It was ju! It was ju! It was ju!

And besides, the top Tubberware sellers...

they're all drag queens.

What? That can't be true.

So, what do you say, Marge? Are you in it to win it?

Go for it, Marge!

Who cares if what's outside doesn't match what's inside?

I'm labeled "Lunch Snacks," but people use me to store pot.

And I'm for storing bread.

All the bread you're gonna make selling Tubberware.

Did you just high-five that bowl?

Be cool, Marge. Be cool.

Homer, order anything you like. It's on me.

Anything.

Okay. I'm gonna need two menus and four tables.

And get rid of all this silverware.

- It just slows me down. - I got it. I got it.

We need help. Someone get Mama back from bingo.

I am on my way.

But all you need is a "G."

You should be like the "G" in gnocchi... silent!

Mmm. Oh, Marge, thank you.

Thank you. I'm so happy!

And there it is.

Leftover lasagna.

D'oh!

Lisa still felt sort of magnifique,

but the magical feeling from her good deed started to fade.