The Simpsons

Ay-yi-yi!

D'oh!

In these d-d-dark t-t-times...

Can't get enough Itchy and Scratchy!

And now it's time for...

another Itchy and Scratchy?

Who's the star of this show, me or...?!

Why is my show all cartoons?!

And all the movies they're making fun of

are over a year old.

It's like those parodies were written

when the movies came out, but it took so long to animate them

that we look dated and hacky.

Why can't we...?!

Kids, that's enough TV.

Maggie's eye is starting to wander.

-Mom, what are you doing?! -What a rip!

No more TV.

We're gonna get some fresh air

and visit the Museum... of Television.

Why can't we visit a real museum?

One that doesn't have the skeletons

of the Three Stooges in the lobby.

We have to see the Museum of TV before next Wednesday

when it closes forever.

It's closing?!

But where will people find clips of old TV shows

if they're not housed in a giant building?

Where? Where?!

Ay, caramba!

(King of the Hill theme playing)

Flrbbbb!

Hmm, they're selling off all the old TV relics.

Whoa!

The gun Sheriff Baby wore!

Hmm.

Bart!

Thank God I had this in my pocket.

Oh, my pants are splitting wide open.

And people will see my tattoo of Donald Duck smoking a doob!

That was for Marge's eyes only.

Oh, my God!

Fatso Flanagan!

Who's Fatso Flanagan?

Only the funniest black-and-white man ever.

Isn't that just a rip-off of The Honeymooners?

Everything's a rip-off of The Honeymooners.

Margie, you're the greatest.

Oh, Ralph, Fred, Archie, King of Queens,

I mean Homer.

(applause, music playing over TV)

You'll see, Eunice.

I'm gonna win the Irish Sweepstakes,

and then I'm buying you a mink coat.

Are you getting excited?

No.

That's me not holding my breath.

Just you wait, Eunice. Just you wait.

Ka-chik, kaboom, ka-splatter!

See your grave there?

They were so childless and miserable.

The size 48s.

That's when he was the funniest.

How would you know?

I was Fatso's agent.

Annie Dubinsky.

If you ever hear a star's name and wonder, is he dead?

The answer is either I represent him or yes.

Now, let me ask you something: is there a place for

an old-fashioned lard-ass like me on today's television?

Um, would you play a bloated corpse on CSI?

Would I?!

Wow, that's good bloat work!

He always comes back really religious.

You're killing me here with this Catchy and Patchy.

I'm barely on my own show.

Today's kids are uncomfortable with a clown

whose every reference they have to look up on Wikipedia.

Wikipedia, Twitter-- who names these things?

Percy Dovetonsils?

Get it?

Come on, he was on Ernie Kovacs with a smoking jacket...

Krusty, we want to make some changes.

What kind of changes?

Krusty, um, this is never easy,

but you're fired.

Oh, that was easy.

Oh, no!

My contract states there's only one way

you're allowed to fire me!

Yep, everything's nice and legal!

Could this be more awkward?

They took my dressing room, my parking space, even my writer,

so I don't have a funny third item.

But at least I got you, my agent and best friend.

Krustila, I'm gonna drop you as a friend first,

so that when I drop you as a client,

you'll know it's only business.

But we shared everything!

Boats, girlfriends, condos.

And when I finished, every one of them was spic and span.

Krusty, I'm gonna prove that it's over.

What? I'm on your garage door opener?

It's a smartphone, you out-of-it hack.

Little help?

This only shuts the door.

So, what was everyone's favorite moment at the museum?

I liked the knowledgeable docents.

I liked the early closing time.

Krusty?

Fate is so cruel.

This morning I was a star, with a top agent.

Now I'm strung out in a ball pit!

Go away.

No kid should see his hero sunk so low.

Well, you're not exactly my hero.

I see you more as a cautionary tale.

What?! I'll show you who's a cautionary tale.

I'll show everybody!

You're not licked, Krusty.

People love a comeback.

Look at Robert Downey Jr., Mickey Rourke.

I don't know if I got it in me.

Well, people also love a quitter--

Sarah Palin, The Beatles...

Eh, it's hopeless without an agent.

You need an agent?

We met a ten-percenter today.

She'll get you meetings with the eye,

the peacock, the alphabet web.

You'll have a skein on the sked before you can say

"Krusty's wardrobe furnished by Ha-Has of Beverly Hills."

A new agent?! I better freshen up.

Also better get back on those anti-psychotic meds.

Oh, this is a bad sign.

I've been to classier gas stations.

I know that laugh!

It's the laugh of the most ungrateful,

credit-grabbing,

other-people's-room-service- eating man that I ever met.

I will never forgive you for what you did to me.

Krusty, you know her?

She sure knows me.

Ms. Dubinsky, can you please just tell us

why you hate Krusty?

Come on in.

It's a long story.

Oh, now I hate him, too.

It was the mid '60s.

I was a virgin agent,

looking for a first client or a fourth husband.

And then I saw him.

Hey-hey. Scary world.

They start with the A-bomb, then skip right to the H-bomb.

These geniuses can blow up the planet,

but they don't know the alphabet.

I knew he could be big.

He just needed some savvy fingers

to mold his clay into an Ali.

Herschel, you killed them tonight!

There wasn't a dry turtleneck in the house.

But mark my words:

the bohemian crowd is small potatoes.

You're gonna have to broaden your act

if you want to play in Peoria.

I don't want to play in Peoria.

They're always doing construction on Highway 74.

I mean, if you want to hit it big, you got to lose this...

stick this on...

and make your comedy a touch more physical.

How do I do that?

Like so.