Okay, ladies, let's all take out this month's book,
then open it, close it
and break out the wine.
You're supposed to say "Woo."
Luann, we're not feeling very "woo."
What we're feeling is woo-ried.
- Mm-hmm. - This is an intervention.
I don't have a problem with drinking.
It's not the wine.
Luann, you have an addiction to wine merch.
And we say this out of love,
it's super annoying.
But it's such a fun way of telling the world I like wine.
"Mom Fuel," that "corks are for quitters."
"Wine is the answer,
what was the question?"
The question is do you want to live your life like this?
Oh! And I suppose all your throw pillows just say nothing.
Anyway, it's not like it's hurting anyone.
Isn't it?
I'm the closing manager at Mom Goods.
I was injured when you got into a fight with another customer
over an apron that says
"This is my wine bib."
Luann, we're here for you.
B-But being a funny wine mom is my thing.
I have absolutely nothing else in my life.
You like coffee, right?
What if your new personality was coffee?
Coffee merch doesn't get me there.
Chocolate?
"It's chocolate o'clock somewhere"?
That makes no sense, Bernice.
How about "proud slut"?
Hmm...
mm...
I love it!
And here is your very first merch.
Goodbye, Malibu Stacy.
Good luck, Malibu Stacy.
Miss you already.
Goodbye, all you think piece- inspiring Malibu Stacys.
I'm going to the real world to find a little girl
who loves me the most.
I knew this day would co...
And you're not here for me.
Hi, Shauna!
Um, who are you, freak?
Besides a freaky freak, you freak.
I'm Malibu Stacy, your Malibu Stacy.
I came here from Malibu Stacy Land
because a real girl who plays with me needs my help.
And that's you, Shauna.
You still play with dolls?
No.
It's okay to be complicated.
As women, we can encompass multitudes.
Encompass my fist!
- Yeah, get her!
Get out of here and leave me alone, loser.
I'm so sorry. Meet me at home after school.
We'll have a tea party. I love you so much.
You're not fighting me.
You're fighting your fears of growing up.
All right, good night, Nelly.
Mama, could you tell me a story?
How about one from the Kingdom of the Classy Ladies?
Another one?
Ah, please, I never get tired of their adventures.
Well, once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess
named Muntzeena.
Oh, and she loved to dance with all of her friends
atop the glittery stage of...
Lord Tracksuit's Manor!
One fine eve,
a party of knights of the Order of the Bachelor
from the Valley of Silicon were there,
tossing much gold.
Did they bring a wizard with them
who could control the weather?
Oh, they sure did.
And boy, oh, boy, did he make it rain.
But treachery was in the air.
As the evil Princess Rylee with two Es
stepped onto the stage, bidding the troubadour play
"Poureth Some Sugar Unto Me."
But that's Princess Muntzeena's frolicking ditty.
- Rylee stole it! - Indeed.
And filled with righteous fury,
Muntzeena removed her magical Lucite heel
and chucked it at Rylee's stupid face.
Oh, Princess Muntzeena didn't get
docked two weeks' pay again, did she?
No. Because the keeper of the door,
Sir Gordo of the Latin Kings,
is fair and wise
and kind of into older broads.
So he banished Princess Rylee to the shift of the morn,
when all the princes are sleeping off
last night's potions.
Then King Nelson came in, stole all the ducats
and treated Muntzeena to lunch at Krusty Burger.
Oh, my hero.
No, Mom, you're mine.
Ah, shut up.
Fun fact about Jennifer Garner,
She'll take a night at home with the kids
over a Hollywood premiere any day of the week.
I told you that!
Oh, I forgot the tampons.
Can you go grab a box?
Shh, the checkout stranger can hear.
They don't care what you buy.
Just get the tampons. We're in a hurry.
That's a happy graduation card.
Oh, it's not those things?
I guess I'm bad at shopping.
So you'll have to go get those things.
Fine.
Stop right there, Marge.
Don't play dumb, Homer.
Do you even realize all the embarrassing stuff
your wife buys for you?
Stop shaming me in front of Hans Moleman.
Oh, we're just getting started.
Okay, okay, I'll do it! I'll buy my wife tampons!
Just tell me where they are.
Breaking news. Smoke 'em if you got 'em.
A ship carrying America's entire supply of cigarettes
has become lodged in the Panama Canal.
R, D, R, D, R, D.
Do you think the honking is helping?
'Cause I don't!
Experts say the cigarette shortage could mean months
before are restocked and lungs re-blackened.
Mm. I hope we have enough smokes to last until this is over.
I'm sure we'll be okay
if we just pool all our cigarettes.
You know, share.
Yeah. Share.
Share the cigarettes.
Thing is, I don't have any.
Yeah, me neither.
Liar!
Busted!
Addict!
J'accuse!
J'accuse you!
- Aha! - Aha!
Oh, hey there, handsome. What's your name?
Dr. Julius Hibbert.
No, it's not.
Ugh. Remember, tonight we're roleplaying as strangers,
meeting for a tawdry one-night stand
that my therapist says will reinvigorate our marriage.
I'm a man of science, not improv.
Mm. Hmph.
Okay, okay, I'll give it a try.
Hello, stranger.
Got any sexually-transmitted diseases I should know about?
Ugh. My name is Laverne McCray.
I'm a lingerie model.
Well, we have that in common.
You're a lingerie model?
No, um, my name is also Laverne McCray.
I-I mean Maverne MacDoolittle?
- Uh, I'm a doc...
Documentarian.
Of motorcycles. Which I race.
For, uh, pleasure.
Oh, Maverne, you're just full of surprises.
Help! This man is choking!
Is anyone here a doctor?
Me, I'm a...
Uh, I'm a-hoping you find a doctor before it's too late.
You want me to let a man die to give our marriage a boost?
It would be a start.
Oh, my God, he's turning blue.
I can help. I-I'm a French neurosurgeon.
No, he's not. We're just roleplaying.
You said if I stayed in character, we could have sex.
I took an oath, woman.
I deserve passion!
A sad scene.
Remember, if you're going to role-play,
play it safe.
This has been a message from
the President's Council on Marital Role-play,
which does not exist because I'm only pretending
to be a spokesperson to turn on the men in this bar.
Role-play, baby. I dig it.
Fireman Stu is hot for you.
I caught one.
We caught you, Luigi.
You've been smuggling diamonds inside your four-cheese gnocchi.
Being caught with loaded gnocchi is no "gn-jokey."
I want-a my mamma!
Eh, what you should want is a lawyer.
How's about-a both?
It's-a not-a looking a-good, Mamma.
They gonna send-a me away forever.
Counselor Mamma, your closing argument?
Don't you dare take-a my sweet, sweet, sweet
baby boy to jail.
You want to kill an old woman?
Uh, no?
Aw, thank you.
You too skinny. Have some ziti.
We find the defendant not guilty.
Next week, on the Mamma-At-Law...
Civil forfeitures laws unfairly discriminate against
low income communities.
You too skinny!
I believe every great dish is born of dreams.
I'll often awaken with a new creation
fully formed in my head.
Every morning, I go to the farmer's market
to get inspired.
Each ingredient becomes a character
in the story of lunch.
Today's story is I have 14 bucks
and 500 kids to feed.
Salt.
Fat.
Acid.
Heat.
No, thanks.
I've eaten in restaurants all over the world,
and Lunch Lady Dora's doing things
I never thought were possible... or legal.
Someone needs to stop her.
Maybe the government?
When I present my food,
I want it to evoke an emotion.
- Panic. - Ah!
If I wasn't a cook, I'd probably be a painter
or a novelist.
Some other job where I could
drink vodka from a mug and knock off by 2:00.
Narnia.
All hail! Our queen has returned!
Woodland friends, it is good to see you.
How has the kingdom fared in my absence?
The realm is troubled, milady,
and your wisdom is much required.
By royal decree, we command
that the roads of our kingdom be improved
so that all may benefit.
Whoa, who's gonna pay for that?
Oh... hmm.
Ooh, what about this?
For every spell cast,
we impose a tariff of one gold piece.
You're aware that that unfairly targets witches, right?
This is why so many of us are moving to other kingdoms.
Well, you want better roads, right?
And affordable housing? So you can live closer to work?
Yes, give it to us now.
So, the money for all that
has to come from somewhere.
That's the kingdom's job.
What about a property tax on moats?
Oh, yeah, soak the rich.
That's your answer to everything.
Calm down, my good people.
You hear that? She called us people!
That's racist!
Death to the tyrant!
Sorry, people! I mean subjects!
I mean... citizens?
Ugh. I can't even have fun
in my dreams anymore.
So, hi.
This is my first time on one of these sites.
I'm not really sure how this works,
but it's time to admit that I'm lonely.
Janice passed away six months ago,
and I'm finally ready to open my heart
to a new enemy.
We were at war for 50 years.
Oh, God, what a nemesis she was.
The most loathsome, sorry excuse for a human being
you ever met.
May she burn in Hell.
I know you're not supposed to talk about your ex,
but that relationship is a part of me.
Anyway, ever since I spit on her ugly grave,
I've been alone.
I'm looking for someone in my rage bracket.
I'm not young.
I don't have time to waste
exchanging passive-aggressive emails,
or shooting hostile stares across a supermarket.
I'm looking for a real commitment.
If you think that could be you, reach out.
I just want to make someone miserable
for the rest of their worthless life.
Hmph.
We interrupt this program for an emergency broadcast.
A massive tsunami is headed for Springfield.
- You have ten minutes left to live...
so if there's anything you still need to do on this Earth,
now is the time.
Howdy, Helen.
- Thought you didn't see...
Oh, hey, there, Mrs. Lovej...
Ooh!
Helen, are you okay?
Did I do someth...
I can die now.
We have a clarification to our previous warning.
A tsunami of savings is approaching Springfield
at Costington's Red Tag Clearance.
All is well, and on sale.
It's a great hobby.
Very, uh, manly?
I don't know...
Thanks. Yeah.
I enjoy it.
Oh, Milhouse fell down.
I think he's okay,
but it looks like the poor guy's about to...
Yes, sweet music to my wallet.
Aw, I was so sure it was gonna be Janey.
She's coming off a two-sleepover weekend.
Doesn't betting on bad things happening to children
feel just a bit wrong?
I feel nothing, and I'm fine with that.
Someone just fell off the monkey bars.
Willie, we need an ID on the faller.
It's Sheri.
Oh, yes! Yes!
Correction,
the faller is Teri.
Repeat, Teri.
- Come to papa.
I-I can't be a part of this.
Oy,
shut up, you debt-ridden chalk-sniffers.
We have a middle finger on the playground.
Who flipped the bird?
Come on, weird foreign exchange student.
I cannot believe I'm saying this.
The bird-flipper is Lisa Simpson.
Impossible. What were the odds?
500 to one.
I'm so disappointed in you guys.
Or should I say, for you guys.
Yoink.
Nice work.
Pleasure doing business with you.
Every story needs a hero.
Every hero has a beginning.
Witness the rise of a legend.
You know, that Jake from State Farm
kind of does it for me.
You want to go upstairs?
Yeah, all right.
Shh!
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