(originally aired February 17, 1994)
I think with Lisa episodes, you really need a B-plot; most of her stories are emotional, moralistic endeavors, and 22-minutes of that would feel… I dunno, rather un-Simpsons-y. So to balance this episode’s satire of crass commercialism and sexism, we have a bunch of Grampa being a silly old person. Our set-up is Abe realizing he’s not long for this world, so he decides to gives away his prized possessions to the Simpson family, who then go off to the mall to spend the valuables. Abe tags along, and complains and rambles the whole way. It’s there that Lisa buys the new talking Malibu Stacy doll, whose catalog of phrases includes “Let’s bake some cookies for the boys!” and “Thinking too much gives you wrinkles!” I’ve not much knowledge over the history of Barbie, but I’m aware of the various watchdog groups that have attacked the doll’s persona for providing a negative role model to young girls. Afterwards, they gave Barbie more proactive job titles, and later divorced Ken, ’cause she don’t need no man to make it in the world. That was a news article on CNN, I believe. The point is that this is a spectacular exaggeration of the pop culture icon, and Lisa crusades to put a stop to this reductive depiction of women.

When a trip to the Malibu Stacy factory (or rather, the PetroChem Petrochemical Corporation) proves fruitless, Lisa pays a visit to the recluse creator of the doll Stacy Lovell (voiced by the great Kathleen Turner), a defeated drunkard who has holed herself up in a replica of the Stacy Dream House, only to have Lisa reignite the fire within her and agree to take action. They set to work on making a new doll, one which will be more empowering for little girls, with phrases like “When I grow up, I’m keeping my own name!” The conclusion to the story is extraordinary: to combat the release of Lisa’s doll, Malibu Stacy is given a re-release, but with a new hat. The swarm of girls (and Smithers) are instinctively bowled over, buying the updated doll en mass. It’s a pitch perfect take on so many things, from useless toy variants to the commercial illusion of something being new and improved. So we don’t feel too bad for Lisa, a silver lining is drawn as she witnesses one little girl, smiling with Lisa’s doll in her hands. Not so bad after all.

Back to the Grampa plot: he tries to make an effort to not be a useless old person and get a job. He ends up at Krusty Burger, I guess a reference to how back in the 90s, McDonald’s was making a point to hire up the elderly. It doesn’t feel like this plot had much energy in it, it’s mainly just an endless parade of old jokes at Abe’s expense, which are funny when utilized once in a while, but not for an entire subplot. They tried to tie it into Lisa’s story in the middle when the two are musing that no one will listen to them being too young and too old, which leads to Homer briskly walking in, delivering a classic line: “I’m a white male, age 18 to 49.  Everyone listens to me, no matter how dumb my suggestions are!” (he proceeds to take out from the cabinet a can of Nuts & Gum “Together at last!”) While some of the Grampa scenes are funny (“This sandwich just took a bite out of me!”), it didn’t really amount to much. I think it would have been better if after the Simpson family leaves Grampa rambling to himself in the car, he’s gone from the episode, like his usefulness has run out and that’s the joke. But hey, what do I know? I don’t make ’em, I just watch ’em.

Tidbits and Quotes
– I like how Grampa’s ramblings start as long winded stories, then toward the end, he just starts making disjointed annoyed remarks and quips (“I’m thirsty! Ew, what smells like mustard? There’re sure a lot of ugly people in your neighborhood. Oh! Look at that one. Ow, my glaucoma just got worse! The president is a Demmycrat!”)
– The ultra-violent Sergeant Thug’s Mountaintop Command Post play set apparently utilizes actually explosive technology. Bart launches a missile out the window and an explosion is seen in the distance.
– I love Lisa’s furious breathless rant about her new doll to an unreceptive Bart (“Millions of girls will grow up thinking that this is the right way to act, that they can never be more than vacuous ninnies whose only goal is to look pretty, land a rich husband, and spend all day on the phone with their equally vacuous friends talking about how damn terrific it is to look pretty and have a rich husband!!”) Also, great direction on the camera turn as she furiously throws the doll out the window.
– Classic bit with the one girl’s doll’s defective voicebox (“My Spidey senses are tingling! Anyone call for a web slinger?”)
– There’s some subtle character stuff here with Marge, who seems to be torn with supporting her daughter and her internal belief to not cause a fuss (“Lisa, ordinarily I’d say you should stand up for what you believe in. But you’ve been doing that an awful lot lately.”) She’s stopped in her tracks when one of her Stepford Wife-esque phrases is revealed to be one of Stacy’s (“Now let’s forget our troubles with a big bowl of strawberry ice cream!”)
– The Malibu Stacy tour is filled with great bits: the beyond disgruntled assembly line workers, the origins of the doll initially being made of dried onion meal, the reveal that Smithers owns the largest collection in the world (which of course raises further questions), and the blatant, acceptable sexist environment of the company (“Don’t act like you don’t like it!”) Also nice animation bit with the tour guide closing the door with her ass.
– Speaking of questions, we get more disturbing stuff from Smithers’s with the classic Burns screensaver (“Hello. Smithers. You’re. Quite. Good. At. Turning. Me. On.”) How much time must that have taken to splice together?
– I love Stacy Lovell, who appears to have mirrored the life of her doll, with her dream house mansion and ex-husbands such as Ken and G.I. Joe, who shows up later (“I must have you back. Just come for a ride with me in my Mobile Command Unit.”) Also her revelation of being forced out of the company in the 70s (“They said my way of thinking just wasn’t cost effective. Well, that, and… I was funneling profits to the Viet Cong.”) And the great scene where she claims she’s too drunk to do anything, and continues sipping her drink.
– There’s some great self-deprecating lines in here as well, from Lisa (“I’d be mortified if someone ever made a lousy product with the Simpson name on it”) and Ms. Lovell admitting the Simpson family has hideous hair… from a design point of view.
– The greatest bit in the episode is Krusty’s in-and-out recording session. Each part of it is brilliant: his golf outfit, his cavalier, all-business attitude, his lifeless read, and inability to remember his sidekick’s name (“Hey, here comes Slideshow Mel! Again, here comes Sideshow Mel!”) And the kicker where Krusty hauls ass out of there before the technician has even put in the reel.
– I like how Kent Brockman’s daughter basically has the exact same hair as him, as well as the fact that she apparently convinced him to report on the Berlin Wall.

(originally aired February 10, 1994)
Oh, Apu Nahasapeemapetelion. Your origins so humble, and your destiny so great. Some could cry he was a stereotype, but it was more of the show pulling from real life (if you haven’t noticed, many convenience store clerks are Indian). As the seasons progressed, we’d catch more glimpses of him in his price gouging, yet kind-spirited nature. But this is the episode that really cemented him as a respectable secondary character. His tenure living with the Simpsons made him a family friend and ally, and we learned more about Apu, his expertise, his faith and his dreams, all of which involve his beloved Kwik-E-Mart in some fashion. Between this, a hoard of solid jokes and a show-stopping musical number, this is one of the great ones.

In his efforts to conserve stock, Apu places expired food in the bargain bin, but no one’s thick enough to fall for such an obvious deception… except Homer… twice. Attempting to get even, Homer teams up with Kent Brockman to do an expose piece on the Kwik-E-Mart, which he bungles, but not before getting some damning evidence. We don’t dislike Apu for his actions because here he exists as a mouthpiece for the stingiest, cost-cutting methods of his company (a point he makes later when he comes under fire by Kwik-E-Mart heads, attesting he was only following company procedure. A representative responds by noting, it’s also company procedure to blame any problems on a scapegoat or sacrificial lamb. Apu, not fully getting the situation, replies, “And if I can obtain for you these animals?”) Relieved of his post, Apu realizes his wrong-doings and vows to make it up to Homer and his family. He becomes a helpful house guest: cooking ethnic meals, assisting Marge with efficient shopping tips, and overall improving the family’s way of life. It appears Apu has turned the corner to a new life, indicated by his song “Who Needs the Kwik-E-Mart?” But, like many characters on this show, he secretly yearns for the status quo, and would like nothing more than to return there.

Filling Apu’s position is guest star James Woods, who takes the job as research for a movie role (maybe). He’s one of the best celebrity voices ever on the show, with his wavering method of speech, and the times he gets really fierce (harassing Jimbo in going through a line reading, arguing with his agent on the phone.) He gives a really mellow, yet spirited performance, and he’s hilarious. Meanwhile, Homer accompanies Apu to India to trek to the world’s first convenience store to beg for his job back. Homer, of course, screws things up, and we’re back in America in about a minute and a half. While it may seem like a stupid sidebar, it’s a classic Simpsons moment nonetheless, with the elderly and wise Kwik-E-Mart CEO slurping on a Squishee as zen-like as he possibly can. After taking a bullet for Mr. Woods, Apu manages to restore his employment in the end, and all is well in the world. It’s an episode that seamlessly blends the low-key main story with ridiculous side bits involving celebrities and spur-of-the-moment trips across the world. It also, in one episode, gave new life to a side character, making him someone we truly care about and want to see more of.

Tidbits and Quotes
– The first scene sets the stage perfectly, illustrating the Kwik-E-Mart’s inflated prices. A 29-cent stamp? $1.85. Two bucks of gas? $4.20. Penny candy? Surprisingly expensive. A disgruntled customer attempts to wreck some merchandise on his way out, allowing Apu to deliver a classic line: “Silly customer! You cannot hurt a Twinkie!”
– Homer is as thick as ever here: even while experiencing terrible indigestion, he continues to eat the rancid ham. Afterwards, he confronts Apu, who counters his anger with five pounds of frozen shrimp. Homer astutely notices the shrimp isn’t frozen and it smells funny. Apu ups it to ten pounds. Homer is sold. Cut to an ambulance. Brilliant.
– The barking dog on “Bite Back with Kent Brockman” may be one of my favorite gags in the entire series. I forgot all about it when it popped up, I love it. It’s one of those gags that goes on for so long, and just gets funnier and funnier. I only wish the barking had been even more ridiculously long. It’s made even better by the final bit with the dog barking a message from the Church of Latter-Day Saints.
– The camera hat is a wonderful Simpsons accessory, so inconspicuous. The POV shot from the camera wobbling and slowly entering the Kwik-E-Mart as Apu stares blankly is a great bit of direction. Homer tries to be casual (“Don’t be alarmed, Apu. Just go about your daily routine like I’m not wearing the hat,”) but when Apu notices the buzzing sound and posits that Homer may have a “bee in his bonnet,” Homer freaks out, smashes the hat and runs away. However, it manages to catch incriminating footage of Apu selling the most filth-ridden hot dog in the universe, and ridiculously enough narrating it to the camera (“Now this is just between me and you… smashed hat.”) Homer, of course, buys the hot dog.
– Great bit of the babbling brook Apu believes to be like mocking laughter turning out to be two bums under the bridge having a good time (“Who needs money when we got feathers?”)
– I love the stupid fake-out between act one and act two of Apu appearing to want to viciously strangle Homer, but revealing it to be the signal of apology in his customs. He later comments on how misleading it might appear (“You know, now that I think about it, it may be a little confusing. Many have died needlessly.”) When Apu offers to help Homer for karmic realignment, Homer surprisingly replies that karma can only be dosed out by the cosmos and slams the door. Apu muses, “He’s got me there.”
– In exchange for a Chipwich, Homer agrees to let Apu stay, which leads to a number of great scenes: Apu utilizing store display techniques to push products at home (“Hey, corn! Haven’t had that in a while!”) and the trip to MonstroMart, a wonderful parody of big box warehouse stores (“That’s a great price for twelve pounds of nutmeg!”) Apu wisely advises Marge against the express line, of which a rambling Grampa is at the head of, in exchange for the longest (“All pathetic single men. Only cash, no chitchat.”)
– The musical number is fantastic, with Apu twice knocking over Grampa, and the awkward end where the family just stands there and sits down on the couch (“Everything really wrapped up nicely. Hmm. Much quicker than usual.”) I also love Homer’s anger toward Apu’s mood change (“He lied to us through song! I hate when people do that!”)
– Woods has a great monologue on the phone with his agent, a bit of it sounds ad-libbed but it’s really funny (“How can it be the same movie if they’ve changed my character from a convenience store clerk to a jittery eskimo firefighter? …Uh huh… uh huh… mm hmm… well, actually, that’s a pretty good explanation.”)
– Really sweet moment when Apu finally returns to the Kwik-E-Mart, pumped up to face his demons, but he quickly melts upon seeing the familiar sights of his beloved store (“Ah, my old Squishee machine. And my scum bucket with fly. And a hot check list.”)
– Classic bit of tape with Apu’s 96-hour shift, so delusional toward the end he believed to be a hummingbird. And classic ending where the bullet that hit Apu actually ricocheted off another bullet lodged in his chest from a previous robbery, saving him from death.

(originally aired February 3, 1994)
Being meta is a tricky thing to pull off. Creating a plot of an episode, or even a single joke that is self-referential can come off as being too overt or out of place, or even a little smug. It has to work within your universe, and here, it perfectly does. The Krusty the Clown Show is already a hotspot for jokes about the inner workings of television and its many personalities, and Bart accidentally becoming the new flavor of the month with a quirky catchphrase is a wonderful parody of the initial fame of The Simpsons itself, with Bart Simpson T-shirts aplenty. It’s a great episode that not only pokes fun at the gratuitous content, but also the fickleness of the viewership. It’s a perfect feedback circle… of crap.

We start off with an exciting school field trip to the box factory, one of the show’s greatest set pieces. The idea of it is boring enough, but the mostly empty factory, limply moving conveyor belts and the deadpan tour guide sells it even more, making something so mind-crushingly boring as hilarious as possible. Bart manages to escape to the neighboring TV studio, where he stumbles into a job as Krusty’s assistant. We see Krusty at his more asshole-ish here. Firstly, he doesn’t even recognize Bart, despite the kid having saved him from prison and reuniting him with his father, and then he basically uses and abuses him through most of the second act with various insane odd jobs. Bart isn’t even safe during school hours (“I need to get your fingerprints on a candlestick. Meet me in the conservatory, chop-chop. Don’t worry, everything’s gonna be aaaall right.”) He’s your typical Hollywood blowhard taking advantage of the little folk, even if they are a precocious ten-year-old fan. Bart is asked to fill in a bit part on the show, which turns catastrophic. Covering his bases with an instinctual “I didn’t do it,” he inadvertently invents a catchphrase that would take the country by storm.

Krusty does all he can to milk this cow until it’s good and dry: charging money to witness the boy, record deals, and sketch after sketch of the same damn joke over and over again. What gets most interesting in the third act is Bart getting exhausted of his fame, hoping people can look beyond him being a one-line wonder. I would think this is like both writers hoping people will see The Simpsons beyond its easy-to-market gimmicks and catchphrases plastered on merchandise, or writers going onto other projects and not wanting to be pigeonholed for just doing The Simpsons. Either way, Bart manages to shake off his frustrations and give the people what they want… only to find out his schtick is old hat. Krusty sums it up best (“That’s show business for you: one day you’re the most important guy that ever lived, the next day you’re some schmoe working in a box factory.”) It’s an interesting, entertaining show about being a flash-in-the-pan, the rise and fall of a one-hit wonder, and the vacuous nature of catchphrases. In kind, the episode ends with our beloved cast spouting each and every one of them.

Tidbits and Quotes
– Great opening bit with Homer reading his horoscope (“‘Today will be a day like every other day.’ D’oh! It just gets worse and worse!”) I feel like later, Homer would develop this cocky air about himself, but here, he is true Homer: blissfully ignorant at times, but aware that his station in life sucks.
– I love how brutal Lisa’s fantasy is, where her greatest dream involves inadvertently killing her brother (“Impaled by my Nobel Peace Prize. How ironic.”) Later, Bart attempts to escape into fantasy, but with a television-ruined mind, he can’t come up with anything original.
– We get a bit more insight into Bumblebee Man, who seems to be a consummate professional who doesn’t want to insult his audience with tired old gags. So instead of getting bit in the ass by a lobster, they use a giant mouse trap (“I love it!”)
– Great over-the-top line reading on Homer, finding Bart’s lucky red hat on top of a box (“He’s a box! My boy’s a box! Damn you!! A box!!“) Also, a great addendum at the start of the second act when he comes running in to the house with the box (“I have some horrible, bone-chilling news!!”) only to be pulled back when Bart walks in the room.
– More ineffectual reporting: Kent Brockman adjusts the news to suit his fancy (“Tragic news tonight: 120 dead in a tidal wave in Kuala Lala… Kuala Lum… France!”)
– I like Bart’s innocent response to Krusty tossing him his towel (nice Mean Joe Green reference): “Wow, a big clown hanky!”
– Homer is at his most brain-dead when Bart talks about working for Krusty, first in his rant against helping poor people (which the family pauses after, then chooses to ignore), then Homer injecting his story about being a terrible street musician. After the fantasy, he gives his son his blessing to get an electric guitar, which is not what they were talking about at all. The bit is saved by Homer using his reassurance voice (“Gig, son. When you’re a musician, a job is called a ‘gig.'”)
– I don’t see why people would wait in line for Bart to sign photos of Krusty, while the clown himself is sitting a fair distance from the table smoking. I love his coldness towards an eager little girl fan.
– Another great Dan Castellaneta performance as Sideshow Mel, simultaneously screaming at Bart and vomiting all from behind the bathroom door.
– Krusty gets all the best lines in this show, with not bothering to remember whether his sidekick is dead or just sick, to the slow build-up to him telling Bart is finished, pausing to open the stage door, just in time to reveal all of the swarming fans. He immediately changes his tune (“He’s mine! I own him and all his subsidiary rights!”)
– Great appearance by Conan O’Brien, of course former writer on the show, and at the time recent graduate to late night television. He delivers one of the best lines of the entire series (“Sit perfectly still. Only I may dance.”)
– Phenomenal back-and-forth between Bart and Marge about repetitiveness in television (“I shouldn’t let this bother me. I’m in television now. It’s my job to be repetitive. My job. My job. Repetitiveness is my job. I am going to go out there tonight and give the best performance of my life.” “The best performance of your life?” “The best performance of my life!”)
– I love the crowd’s disappointed nature over Bart’s improv as they leave in disgust (“That’s what passes for entertainment these days, woozle wozzle?”) and the show-ending announcement right after (“Ladies and gentlemen, the Klown Show has been put on hiatus for retooling.”)

(originally aired January 6, 1994)
All through this season we’ve seen Homer take a drastic turn from his previous sadsack demeanor into something of a raving lunatic. The bumbling, but earnest and well-meaning father seems to have been replaced by a selfish, obnoxious, self-satisfying jackass. However, one must always look at the context. When you have characters as rich as this show, one can wax and wane their personalities to fit the story, allowing certain aspects of them to shine and take the helm. With “Homer Goes to College,” we saw his flagrant desire to emulate pop culture lead him into becoming a loudmouth party animal. “Boy Scoutz N the Hood” illuminated Homer’s penchant for childish teasing and torment, which admittedly was a bit less effective. In “Homer the Vigilante,” Homer is a petulant, power-hungry lout who functions purely on impulse. The idea of a neighborhood watch taking things too far is present, but the proper motivations for Homer’s actions don’t seem to sink that deep into his thick noggin, leading some of his behavior to be… kinda dickish.

The crisis starts after a wave of break-ins courtesy of the Springfield Cat Burglar. When local law enforcement seems to be ineffective (as usual,) a neighborhood watch program is started, with Homer volunteering to lead it. Before this point, we have a bunch of great jokes involving the town protecting themselves, like Frink’s mobile robot house and a paranoid Apu shooting down customers from the parking lot (“Thank you for coming! I’ll see you in Hell!”) Homer is elected to lead the watch group thanks to an already whooped-up crowd, but you’d think his actions would cause some dissonance in the organization. Some, like Moe, may just go along with harassing everyday Joes, but Apu? Principal Skinner? They may be Homer’s old Be Sharps buddies, but they’re much more level-headed and respectful. And what about Flanders? He pretty much disappears after the reigns of the watch group are taken from him. I think an internal clashing of the group would have made more sense, and given Homer more of a reason to fight.

There’s also a soft-spoken theme where Grampa’s help is continuously denied, as the masses seem to agree old people are useless… at least until he discovers the identity of the cat burglar: his retirement home neighbor Molloy, smoothly voiced by Sam Neill. It’s first brought up after the rage of enthusiasm after Homer is elected and people get behind him, and then it all kind of stops to introduce this plot angle that we know will culminate in the end. I dunno, it didn’t work for me. But this whole episode could have been garbage and still would have been saved by the It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World ending. It fits perfectly with the blind mob mentality of the town that they would be fooled like that, creating a frenzy of people looking for a big T, only to ultimately be bamboozled as Molloy used this opportunity to escape for prison. This episode’s got some problems, but it works for the most part, and has enough classic, funny parts to keep it going.

Tidbits and Quotes
– The opening robbery sequence is full of jokes: Molloy going for his lock pick, then realizing Homer’s left his keys in the door, subduing Santa’s Little Helper and Homer with sausage links, replacing Bart’s portable TV with a book “Coping with Loss,” and removing Marge’s pearls, revealing deep imprints on her neck (she later reveals she has hundreds of them, all family heirlooms.) Bart also had his stamp collection stolen, a fact the family openly mocks him for, as well as Nelson, who literally phones in his “Ha-ha!”
– Frink’s moving house is one of those great “Why?” jokes. Upon danger, the house sprouts robot legs to run to safety; the model version runs, then falls and bursts into flames. Little wooden people fall out of the door, also ablaze. Frink tries to cover himself (“The real humans won’t… burns so quickly.”) Why did he even put people in the model? Then in the next scene, we see the house actually does exist as a full-size model runs away, and bursts into flames too. After seeing the prototype, why would anyone buy it?
– Lisa blowing the jug and Homer having a hoedown is a classic scene, as is the second time around when Homer is deep in thought (which is a hilarious drawing.)
– Nice spin (ha ha) on the spinning newspaper gag (“Is Nothing Safe?”) to have the cat burglar steal that too.
– I love the timing of this scene: Homer runs through the code names (“we’ve got the secret vigilante handshake. Now we need code names. I’ll be Cue-Ball, Skinner can be Eight-Ball, Barney will be Twelve-Ball, and Moe, you can be Cue-Ball.”) Short beat. Moe replies, “You’re an idiot.”
– A pretty dated MC Hammer reference, but I still really like the Rapmaster 2000 bit with all the kids dancing behind Homer.
– More great timing: on Smartline, Homer responds to criticism against him and his organization (“Kent, I’d be lying if I said my men weren’t committing crimes.”) Beat. Kent replies, “Touche.” Then there’s a phone call (“Well it looks like we have our first caller… and I mean ever, because this is not a call-in show.”)
– Another great newspaper the day after the burglary (“Zirconia Ztolen!”) with a drunken Homer as the sub-headline.
– Abe’s got a few good moments in the third act gloating about how he solved the mystery (“So you see, old people aren’t so useless after all. Malloy’s old, and he outsmarted the lot of you. And I’m even older and I outsmarted him!”) He laughs, and Moe tells him to shut up. Abe meekly responds, “I’ve had my moment.”
– Molloy proves to be so charming that mob mentality almost urges to let him go. Oddly enough, Wiggum is nonplussed (“Gee, I really hate to spoil this little love-in, but Mr. Malloy broke the law. And when you break the law, you gotta go to jail.”) Enter Quimby (“Uh, that reminds me, er, here’s your monthly kickback.”) Wiggum is not amused (“You just… you couldn’t have picked a worse time.”)
– I love all the different “big Ts”: the Big T Building, Big T Burgers and Fries, the Tea Factory, and the Big T Theater (featuring Ice T and Booker T). We have some cameos from Mad World actors, the most highlighted being Phil Silvers drowning in his car, with Bart subbing as the kid in the film that told him the stream was shallow enough to drive through.
– Great final line from Wiggum: “No, dig up, stupid!” And the Mad World end title music is among my favorite variations on the end theme.

(originally aired December 16, 1993)
This is one of those episodes where not much seems to happen plot-wise. I read that fans were crowing back in this day that the recent seasons suffered from focusing on gags and humorous set pieces replacing a solid through story, but I say if you have a fair premise and a lot of great jokes, how can you really complain? Faced with an economic crisis, Springfield agrees to legalize gambling and open a casino, where Marge proceeds to get addicted to gambling. That’s pretty much the main story, with little peppered elements by Homer, Bart and Mr. Burns. Our episode opens with some focus in showing us a prosperous 1940s Springfield dissolve into the crummy, dilapidated 90s. A tasteful gag involving Homer putting on glasses he found in the toilet actually fits with the theme: Burns is forced to make layoffs, but hesitates when he spies a bespeckled Homer (“Better keep the egghead. He just might come in handy.”) Even with a thin plot, at least all the jokes are derived from a consistent source.

Burns’s new casino on the waterfront is a rousing success, captivating young and old alike. Homer is hired from within to be a blackjack dealer, whose feeble understanding of the game makes his a popular table. It’s here we get the first appearance of the Rich Texan, a character who is mostly associated with the later seasons, but here, he’s quite funny out of the box (“Homer, I want you to have my lucky hat. I wore it the day Kennedy was shot, and it always brings me good luck.”) Bart is tossed out for being underage and, inspired by the hecklings of the teenage management, he opens his own casino in his treehouse. We get some good gags out of it, and a very special musical guest Robert Goulet, singing the very same naughty “Jingle Bells” tune that introduced Bart way back in 1989. Most interesting here is Mr. Burns, a man who craves money and power, who appears to have found the perfect business (“People swarm in, empty their pockets, and scuttle off!”) As such he becomes a paranoid wreck, adopting Howard Hughes-style germophobia and Kleenex-box shoes.

The primary story is Marge becoming a compulsive gambler, addicted to slot machines. The Simpson household falls to ruins without her, leading Homer to finally confront his wife about her problem. It’s interesting to see straightened arrow Marge to have a vice, but it doesn’t really build to much, that and the stuff with Homer fending the house by himself is kind of reminiscent of “Marge in Chains” or “Homer Alone.” But, again, jokes save all: Homer’s insane overreaction about the Boogeyman (“Bart, I don’t want to alarm you, but there may be a boogeyman or boogeymen in this house!”) and his make-shift meal consisting of cloves, Tom Collins mix and pie crust (the sound effect of him taking a bite is wonderful, then the pause and Homer uttering, “Let’s go see Mom.”) It’s nice they left the show open-ended, like Marge wasn’t going to cure her addiction that quickly, but all-in-all, I kind of wish they did more with the plot. It could have been a bit more emotionally charged. But that aside, this is a really funny show. A real keeper.

Tidbits and Quotes
– I love the painfully awkward pause at the doorway between Henry Kissinger and Burns and Smithers, where there’s nothing really left to say, so Burns just closes the door on him and the story continues.
– Great bit at the unemployment office with Barney, admitting he hasn’t held a job in six years. Kent Brockman asks what kind of training he has, to which Barney shamefully replies, “Five years of modern dance, six years of tap.”
– Just to make sure everything’s square with God, Flanders asks Lovejoy what he thinks about legalized gambling. The good Reverend responds, “Once something has been approved by the government, it’s no longer immoral.”
– Oh God, I love the endless Burns laughing sequence. I’m sure it’s like the Sideshow Bob rake scene where some people don’t think it’s funny because it runs so long, but to me, it just gets funnier and funnier, especially when he’s laughing in church, and then later when he ponders at what exactly he was laughing about, then remembers and laughs again, making you think it may start all over again.
– The pitchmen for the casino design are all hilarious. For some reason, I love the timing with the Englishman’s pitch: the grizzled old waitress comes into frame (“Freshen your drink, gov’nor?”) followed immediately by a Burns closeup of him grimly saying, “GET OUT.”
– Some would say the Gunter and Ernst getting brutally mauled by their tiger is not so funny now considering it pretty much happened with Siegfried and Roy, but for a sick fuck like me, it’s even funnier. This show is prophetic, mark my words.
– Great, in-character line from Marge upon finding a quarter on the floor at the casino (“I wonder if they have a lost and found.”)
– I wonder how Bart was able to afford a giant sign with light bulb framing for his casino. Or how he affixed it to the side of his wooden treehouse all by himself. Now that’s dedication.
– All the Burns scenes are hilarious: his vision of Smithers’s germ ridden face (“Freemasons run the country!”), his spectacular model of the Spruce Goose (“Model?”) and the amazing call-back to it when it seems Burns has regained sanity and is reopening the plant (“I said hop in.”)
– Lisa’s Florida costume is fantastic, as is Homer’s impassioned speech to Lisa when it’s finished (“The only monster here is the gambling monster that has enslaved your mother! I call him Gamblor, and it’s time to snatch your mother from his neon claws!”) And of course, a classic Ralph line at the pageant (“I’m Idaho!” “Yes, of course you are.”)
– Madman Homer running amok at the casino is hysterical, throwing people’s craps and hanging up their phone calls. He’s so crazed he rips the slot machine Marge is using right out of the wall and can’t even speak clearly (Marge first asks him to slow down, then to think before he says each word.) Homer finally gets it out, “You broke a promise to your child,” accompanied by a great music cue and camera whip-around. It’s a pretty impacting moment.