(originally aired February 27, 1992)
Bart on the side of law and Lisa a rebel? As Skinner bluntly points out, “Has the world gone topsy turvy?” Thanks to the results of the Career Aptitude Normalizing Test (or CANT), the two Simpson siblings are handed down future careers that boggle them: police officer for Bart and homemaker for Lisa. What follows is the two taking the news to heart and how it molds them into different personas, but in a way that feels believable and not just product of an arbitrary role-reversal episode. Bart takes in the allure of the power of “the man,” starting with a ride-along with cops Eddie and Lou, where he is allowed to handle a weapon and is nearly killed by a deranged Snake. While this would traumatize a normal kid, Bart is totally psyched, eventually taking his newfound sense of power to the schoolyard, and soon teams up with Principal Skinner to be his eyes and ears of the school. It’s an interesting and fun dynamic to see these two rivals on an even playing field for once, and Bart retains his cocky, mischievous attitude as he pushes the envelope of his duties.

Lisa, meanwhile, can think of no greater fate worse than the one of her mother, it seems. We once again get more sad looks at Marge, be it her dreams of being an astronaut as a child to seeing her keep a rictus grin on as her husband and son thoughtlessly gobble down her thoughtfully prepared breakfast. A visit to a music teacher further breaks Lisa’s spirits, as she learns she has given a poor pair of genes from her father in the form of stubby fingers. Lisa has always been a brooding type, sometimes seeming like an emotionally mature adult trapped in a child’s body, so it’s only natural that this level of discouragement would lead her to become a bitter nihilist. With her ambitions for the future crushed, she feels no need to be a model student and teacher’s pet, putting her in Marlon Brando in The Wild One territory (Skinner asks, “What’re you rebelling against?” Lisa, of course, responds, “Whaddaya got?”)

These two paths collide after Lisa steals all the teacher’s editions from the school, an act that nearly turns the school into chaos. Amidst this character study show is another great Simpsons look at public education: without answers in front of them, the teachers go into a frenzied panic, now being unable to appear smarter than young children. We also get a fair share of ridiculous cut-away gags, from Bart imagining himself as a drifter, and later as a witness testifying against a mobster in court, with his identity blotted out and voiced over by the great Steve Allen. As minor as a guest spot as this is, it’s still incredibly memorable (hearing Allen get out “Aye carumba!” is hysterical). We also get the first instance of something spontaneously bursting into flames for no reason, which would become almost a Simpsons staple. The show continues to get sillier, but never loses track of its emotional core, as in the sweet ending where Bart takes the fall to save Lisa’s future.

Tidbits and Quotes
– The beginning with the three children wondering what Krabappel’s surprise is very much like Homer’s co-workers imagining what his secret weapon is from the last episode. Now that I think of it, it’s the same as when the family members try to guess who Selma’s new suitor is in “Black Widower.” Must have been a trendy joke for this season.
– I do love the pathetically veiled questions on the CANT test (“If I could be any animal, I would be (a) a carpenter ant, (b) a nurse shark, or (c) a lawyer bird.” “I prefer the smell of (a) gasoline, (b) French fries, or (c) bank customers.”)
– Something about the ridiculousness of the test security and the Iowa testing center feels like an early joke-type for this show, showing ridiculous, over-the-top secret operations. I especially love the old man with the broom “troubleshooting” the machine.
– I’ve always liked Lisa’s plotting of her future (“I’ll be unappreciated in my own country, but my gutsy blues stylings will electrify the French. I’ll avoid the horrors of drug abuse, but I do plan to have several torrid love affairs, and I may or may not die young. I haven’t decided.”)
– Subtext is usually text on this show. The music instructor tries to break some news to Lisa (“I’ll be frank with you Lisa, and when I say frank, I mean, you know, devastating.”)
– Lou commenting how Mayor Quimby is “polling the electorate” may be the dirtiest joke ever done on the show. And I didn’t even catch it until I thought about it later, and I have an absolutely filthy mind.
– The car chase is so well done, with the exploding milk truck as I mentioned before, but my favorite part is the inexplicable part where they drive through a bunch of empty boxes, like in all action movies. Lou comments, “Damn boxes!” I also love the bridge between the two acts, like it’s a cop drama (“Act II: Death Drives a Stick”).
– This also is the first instance Skinner mentions he fought in Vietnam. Initially a joke, this spawned many future jokes and flashbacks, broadening his character further.
– The third act montage sequence is fantastic, with some great music by Alf Clausen, showing how Bart has taken security in the school to an extreme, culminating in him selling out his own best friend Milhouse, who cries, “Sure, we have order, but at what price?!”
– I love the teachers going nuts when they’re answer key-less. One panicked man cries, “Does anyone know the multiplication tables?!” And of course, Miss Hoover trying to bring herself down from a panic attack (“Calm blue ocean, calm blue ocean, calm blue ocean…”)
– Another great ridiculous joke in enlisting the police to help: their hounds catch the scent of books in the library, so the police inexplicably send a battering ram into the door.
– I like the cockiness of Bart after he “confesses,” and his back and forth with Skinner, as he continually raises his number of detention days every time Bart talks back to him. Finally, he figures he’s had enough (“Maybe I’ll just shut my big mouth.”)

(originally aired February 20, 1992)
Well this certainly was a change of pace. After three episode in a row, and many more in seasons prior, we’d plumbed the emotional depths of the show, with stories focusing on real people and real conflict. And now we have this episode: a completely preposterous and bonkers storyline catering to nine, count’ em, nine special guest stars. This is easily the most ridiculous episode to date, and a real stepping stone for the show. It further expanded the universe to contain more potential for celebrities to lampoon themselves (and occasionally get screwed over by the writers), but still fit in with the established world and the story they reside in. Moreover, the series pushed its boundaries into wackier territory. Ken Griffy, Jr.’s “grotesquely swollen jaw” and Ozzie Smith literally falling into another dimension are jokes that feel insanely foreign to the subtler humor we’ve seen so far, but would pave the way for the joyful craziness we’d see in later seasons.

The episode begins a bit more grounded with Homer’s unusual enthusiasm over the company softball team, and his even more unusual skill for hitting homers, thanks to his crudely homemade “wonder bat.” I suppose even someone as grossly incompetent as Homer is allowed a few choice skills. Our plot kicks into gear in waiting for the final game against the Shelbyville power plant team; in attempts to win a million dollar bet, Mr. Burns decides to bring in a few ringers. Not one or two, but nine: Steve Sax, Jose Cancesco, Wade Boggs, Roger Clemens, and so on. This is not only incredible overkill in hiring an entire team of major leaguers, but the stakes of the game are entirely nil. When asked what he’ll do with his million, Burns half-heartedly comments, “I dunno. Throw it on the pile, I suppose.” The real matter here is a matter of pride, for Burns, and also for Homer, who becomes greatly discouraged losing his top rank on the team.

Now I don’t know a thing about baseball, so I can’t say anything in regards to how the guest stars were represented. Juggling nine guest stars is an incredible challenge, yet the show manages to create memorable moments and lines for pretty much all of them. I like how some of their ridiculous introductions mirror their ridiculous fates: Mike Scioscia yearns for a blue-collar job, so he finds himself enjoying his phony plant position, at least until he gets a horrible case of radiation poisoning. Perhaps the greatest running joke is the subtle rivalry between Homer and Darryl Strawberry, who is a big kiss-ass the entire episode. When he is switched out during the last inning for Homer, he’s understandably shocked (“But I hit nine home runs today!”) Despite the silliness and full plate of characters this episode had to manage, there still is a layer of sweetness to it in Homer’s final “triumph” at the end and the magnificent win for the team. This is really a cornerstone episode for the show, in its ability to just go nuts and reach as far out of the box as they could without wrecking the foundations of the series. Many, many episodes further down the line would break said foundation, but for now, we can revel in the sweet, sweet absurdity.

Tidbits and Quotes
– When Homer announces he’s got a secret weapon, the plant workers are all curious as to what it could be, from Charlie dreaming of a giant glove to Lenny (with an amazing grin on his face), who believes Homer has access to laser gun technology and can incinerate the other team. It’s classic Simpsons dream fodder, but perfectly lays the groundwork for the show in blending baseball and crazy, over-the-top jokes.
– The epic retelling of the origins of Wonderbat is filled with great Homer moments: his safety precautions in the thunderstorm, his shelving of his homemade football, and how he, for some reason, needs to hammer nails and use a acetylene torch to construct a wooden bat.
– The first game of the season is against the Springfield police force. The umpire sets the ground rules: “Okay, let’s go over the ground rules. You can’t leave first until you chug a beer. Any man scoring has to chug a beer. You have to chug a beer at the top of all odd-numbered innings. Oh, and the fourth inning is the beer inning.” Wiggum indignantly interrupts, “Hey, we know how to play softball.”
– I like Marge’s play-by-play narration as she’s filming the game with a camcorder (“And the man wants to hit the ball, too. And he does. And there he goes, off in that direction. And everyone is happy.”)
– The slow-motion replay of Homer’s winning hit is wonderful. Slow-motion is always difficult to do in animation, since it requires more drawings, but the grotesque jiggling of Homer’s flabby body is absolutely hysterical, complete with his slowed down grunts and aghast shock over actually getting a hit.
– The second, and last, I believe, appearance of Aristotle Amadopolis, this time briefly voiced by Dan Castellaneta. I wish he’d have appeared more often, or maybe I just think that because I want to hear more Jon Lovitz.
– Burns’s initial line-up is a great moment, populated by players who haven’t played the game, or even been alive, within the past century.
– Some classic Homer advice I think of time to time (“No matter how good you are at something, there’s always about a million people better than you.”) Bart completely understands (“Gotcha. Can’t win, don’t try.”)
– The different ways the players get indisposed of ranges from psychotic to even more psychotic. Eddie and Lou continue to be hard-ass cops in accusing Steve Sax of committing every crime ever taken place in New York, Jose Conseco apparently spends the entire night and following day rescuing items from a woman’s perpetually burning house, Wade Boggs is knocked unconscious by Barney over an argument over the best English prime minister (“LORD PALMERSTON!!”), and of course, Mattingly’s sideburns (“Don’t argue with me, just get rid of them!!”) I like the continual build that it seems like Homer will finally get to play, only to finally reveal that Strawberry is still present. Speaking of which, his one tear in response to Bart and Lisa’s taunts from the stands is the best moment in the episode.
– The show getting wackier also gets us closer to more big laughs. I’ve laughed my fair share at these past seasons, but sometimes the most insane shit gets the biggest laughs. The brief sequence of the fast-talking crazy peanut vendor hawking bags of nuts at the fans and into the parking lot had me in hysterics as soon as the scene started.
– Then, of course, there’s “Talkin’ Softball.” The song itself is fantastic, but showing it over the credits with a rough sepia tone filter of the show’s events is icing on the cake. It creates this bizarre instant nostalgia for events you just watched unfold a mere twenty minutes ago, but in a weird way, it just makes you like the episode even more. It sure worked for me.

(originally aired February 13, 1992)
Y’know… there’s something about this last bunch of episodes that has gotten me a little depressed. In its earlier, more “realistic” years, the show never shied away from showing the darker, more somber side of everyday people, and life in general. Lisa is a perpetual big fish in a small pond, ever unappreciated and unstimulated, Marge is an unacknowledged house slave to an oafish buffoon, and now we lay focus on Mrs. Krabappel, a lonely, depressed woman with no interest in her job and has almost given up on herself. Seems the point here is that it must suck to be a woman on The Simpsons. I guess even this is a commentary on how men always seem to have a bit of a leg up in society. The stories you can write about Mr. Burns or Krusty are seemingly endless, where a character like Mrs. Krabappel has a bit more grounded range.

A hilarious film reel about the wonders of zinc leads us into this week’s episode, which is not only great by itself, but shows us just how little drive Mrs. Krabappel has left for her job. After school, we see her pick up dinner for one and a lotto ticket, and make an impromptu stop at the mechanic, who finds sugar in her gas tank (he comments, “Your ex-husband strikes again.”) The content here is very subtle and building, giving us a very real look at a depressed human being. Another set piece that felt kind of sad is the school assembly with the yo-yo team. While I love the gag of the leader shoving the team into the back of a van, it seems so sad an existence for them, that this is their station in life. Anyway, Bart’s own yo-yo antics get him a month’s worth of detention, so in retaliation, he ghostwrites letters to Krabappel’s personal ad under the name “Woodrow,” with his letters narrated for the audience by Harry Shearer, seemingly channeling Ricardo Montalban.

Through the second act, Bart plays a double role, lending an ear to a warmer Mrs. K about what she wants out of a man, then using that material to fire off another mash note. But a point is reached where even Bart realizes he may have pushed things too far, and he falls upon the family to help him out of the mess he created. Writing a gentle farewell note is a nice conclusion, and the sequence of the Simpsons tossing out lines and debating over it is really sweet. I feel as sad as these episodes get, there’s still an element of hope at the end, and even if there isn’t, it still feels like it. “Woodrow” was an elaborate ruse from start to finish, but we’re still left feeling good about Mrs. Krabappel, because she feels good. I think Marcia Wallace got an Emmy for this episode, and for good reason too. She took a character who could really be a complete caricature and made her so believable and so empathetic that we root for her as much as we do any of the Simpsons. This season and beyond, the supporting cast is really rounding out, creating a richer, yellow universe.

Tidbits and Quotes
– The zinc film is amazing, starring Dan Castellenta’s squeaky voiced teen character. I can’t believe they got away with the attempted suicide (failed of course, no firing pin), but I’m glad they did. “Come back, zinc! Come back!”
– Another amazing Simpsons product: Chef Lonelyheart’s Soup For One, labelled with a sad chef with a tear in his eye.
– Very great brief joke inside Springfield Magazine, an article, “We Talk to J.D. Salinger,” perhaps also a covert joke about the credibility of said magazine, or lack thereof.
– I do like Bart is quite the yo-yo whiz; in future episode, we’d find that he takes a vested interest and get good at almost anything that doesn’t involve schoolwork, or something that could benefit him in the future. Also, his latest technique “Plucking the Pickle” reaaaaallly sounds like a euphemism for masturbation.
– I love Mrs. Krabappel’s blind date with Jasper; it keeps building on Mrs. K’s desperate state of affairs, but that old photo of him, a tall strapping man in a zoot suit, cracks me up every time.
– I do like the wording of Krabappel’s personal ad (“1 + 1 = 2? Recently divorced 4th grade teacher wishes to meet man age: 18-60. Object: SAVE ME.”)
– I couldn’t fit in the B-story into the main write-up since it’s so divorced from the main plot, but it provides much needed overt laughs to the more emotional A-story. Young Todd Flanders swears at the dinner table, and Ned discovers he heard it from a raging Homer during his fight building a doghouse. Marge suggests the use of a swear jar, which gets filled up mighty quickly, so much that Marge and Lisa just buy a doghouse on their own. There’s so much great stuff here, from Ned’s punishment (“No Bible stories for you tonight!”) and his plea to Homer not to swear (“All of us pull a few boners now and then, go off half-cocked, make `asses’ of ourselves…”) and the great montage of events that cause Homer to fill the swear jar. I particularly love his intense fury over Ned getting work in a commercial.
– Homer’s drunken postcard to Marge from the Duff Brewery: instant classic (“Maybe it’s the beer talking, Marge, but you got a butt that won’t quit. They got those big chewy pretzels here merJanthfgrr five dollars??!!!? get outta here…”)
– I do like Bart taking in an Ernest movie before he witnesses how far he’s broken his teacher. Then, of course, the great second act closing line: “I can’t help but feel partly responsible.”
– Two more things on the other plot: I love the sequence of Homer’s attempts to restrain himself. He steps on a nail (with a disturbing sound effect) and through gritted teeth comments, “Fiddle-dee-dee, that will require a tetanus shot.” Then there’s his joy over seeing his wife’s present to him (“Beer! How did you know?”)
– Homer is especially a great help during the letter, from his initial draft (Dear Baby, Welcome to Dumpville. Population—You). and his insistence on including “I am gay.”

(originally aired February 6, 1992)
The sad state of being that is Marge Simpson is something the show has shown telling glimpses of over its first few years, and here it becomes front and center. Marge-centric episodes, like Lisa ones, have been said to be a pain to write, and it’s understandable why. While Homer and Bart are exaggerated and over-the-top, Marge and Lisa are more level-headed; their featured episodes tend to feel more realistic. Here, we see Marge’s life of marital servitude unravel, and it’s a very, very powerful first act. When you take a typical dynamic of the show and want to drive it to an emotional climax, you have to ramp things up. So while hearing Homer and the kids whine to Marge is normally just funny, here we see how they can be building irritants, pecking away at Marge’s sanity. Tedious task after tedious, thankless task wears at Marge more and more. When it gets to where everyday annoyances start picking away at here, Marge does something we’d have figured she’d have done a long time ago: she fucking loses it, parking her car in the middle of a busy cross-town bridge.

Marge is eventually brought down and everything is okay. So says Homer, at least. It almost seems like this would be the start and end of a crappy show, like a last ditch effort of appreciation is enough to sweep this psychological problem under the rug. But here, it’s just the beginning. Marge concludes she needs a break: a weekend at a spa and resort Rancho Relaxo. A character of intrinsic restraint, Marge’s wild no-bars vacation consists of having a staff pamper her and watching R-rated movies while drinking Tequila. The other Simpsons are left to fend for themselves in Marge’s absence. Bart and Lisa stay with their aunts Patty and Selma, a nightmarish domain of disgusting foot rubs and tongue sandwiches. Homer, meanwhile, must tend toward Maggie, who drives himself ragged, even more so when the baby crawls off and about town, desperately in search of her mommy.

Seeing how calm and mellow Marge is towards the end only makes the seemingly happy ending of her return seem sad, since we know she’s going to be unappreciated by next week’s show. It’s a testament to how great this show is that we can have episodes that very seriously explore huge fractures and dire issues with this family, but we still love each one of them, and as a whole family unit. Whether they remain optimistic, or they’re in the biggest permanent rut, but the Simpsons are overall content with their station in life.

Tidbits and Quotes
– The scene of Bart, Lisa and Homer talking over each other is mixed so well, and really gets across the building annoyance. One line that sticks out amongst the rabble is Homer’s “Double baloney! Double baloney! Don’t forget to make it double baloney!” But alas, they’re all out of baloney. I also like his later whining about potentially having to use the bowling balls at the lane (“Ohh, alley balls!”)
– We get some crazy Marge reactions here, from the lower pitched “GET OUT” to when she literally makes animal noises, something we haven’t seen since “Some Enchanted Evening,” and I don’t think again since.
– The final straw for Marge is an insane crank call bit on the Billy & Marty show involving them telling a man his wife has died after walking into a plate glass window. The poor sap is understandably devastated while the two jocks laugh hysterically. It’s such an over-the-top parody of dumb shit these types of radio shows do, and the perfect example of insensitivity and craziness that would set Marge off.
– Little details are important. I love how the bus behind a broken Marge after she snaps is carrying the Shelbyville players, all in Shakespearean garb.
– I think this is the first appearance of Arnie Pye in the Sky, a character I’ve always loved. Just as importantly, we get the intro to his rivalry with Kent Brockman, as he takes offense to Kent claiming that this news story “is no mere morning traffic report.”
– Episodes like these tend to not have big laughs, just a lot of great small moments, like the cops smirking upon Homer’s arrival, completely understanding his wife’s turmoil, and the female officer’s empathetic encouragement while taking Marge’s mug shot (but not enough to loosen her cuffs).
– We also get the first appearance of the rivalry between Mayor Quimby and Chief Wiggum, back when the latter had a bit more gumption. We saw this a bit more in the next few seasons, but I don’t think it was brought up much past season 7 or so. It’s a understandable and cool dynamic, I wish they’d kept it up.
– I love the ad for Rancho Relaxo, prompting all of its perks (“Swim, play tennis, or just sit and stare at the walls”), complete with a Spanish conquistador relaxing in a hot tub in full uniform. Phil Hartman is back (seems like he’s in every one of these old episodes) as Troy McClure, hosting the in-room guide to the resort, who is absolutely great, as always.
– Homer doing a puppet show for Maggie only to have the dog attack him is such a great sequence of animation, and hilarious, of course, with Maggie clapping at the end.
– Maggie’s quest to find Marge is so sweet. Don’t have much to add on that, but it’s just really adorable.
– I love the random element of Barney being an omelet gourmand. He makes them with three kinds of cheese. Three!
– Third and final instance of inappropriate hold music. It’s reused animation from “Saturdays of Thunder,” but it’s definitely my favorite. When Homer calls the department of missing babies, he’s treated to “Baby Come Back” by Player.
– I like Homer, once it seems all hope is lost, attempting to soften the blow to Marge about Maggie’s absence. He tests the waters asking her how she’d feel if the dog ran away, but after Marge reacts aghast at this hypothetical, he back pedals. Later, he tries to think of the best way to break the news to her, including, “Isn’t life funny? One day they’re babies, the next thing you know they’re off on their own!”

(originally aired January 23, 1992)
As I mentioned with “Lisa’s Pony,” Homer/Lisa episodes are always emotional and entertaining, not in a laugh uncontrollably sort of way, but with subtler character behaviors and actions. Here we once again have Homer disregarding one of his child’s existences, but unlike Bart’s ambivalence in “Saturdays of Thunder,” Lisa is a girl who craves positive reinforcement. Marge recommends Lisa take an interest in something Homer likes, in an incredibly telling, somewhat sad but still funny line (“I pretend I’m interested in looking at power tools, going to those silly car-chase movies, and… some things I’ll tell you about when you’re older.”) So, Lisa decides to join her father in watching football. In episodes like these, you need to push the bonds between characters far at the start so their reconciliation later on can be that much more effective, but seeing Homer force her daughter to the other end of the couch is not so much thoughtless and selfish as much as it is cruel. Homer’s assholery is best when it’s accidental, not overt, especially toward his daughter.

Needless to say, Homer and Lisa form a bond while watching the game, especially when Homer realizes that his daughter has a knack for picking the winning team, resulting in numerous winning bar bets with Moe. The scenes of the two together have a real bittersweet feel to them: we love to see them getting along, and Lisa finding passion towards the sport and her logical analyses towards her bets, but Homer’s actions are still completely self-centered. Lisa has happened to enter her father’s field of vision and Homer has figured how to make her an asset for his own doings. Even lavish dinners and gifts for his family, sweet as those moments may be, are peppered with a self-congratulatory aurora thrown by Homer. These suspicions are validated when Homer confirms he’s planning on blowing off their “Daddy-Daughter Day” once football season ends, crushing Lisa, leaving him with a bottomless pit he must figure out how to scramble out of.

The third act sets up a very bizarre climax, with Lisa racked with guilt over her actions and seething with a quiet anger toward her father. She gives a very somber, yet serious proclamation to Homer: her love for him all hinges on who wins the Super Bowl. Homer remains desperate for a more concrete answer, leaving him a twisted emotional wreck through the game. It’s almost like a weird psychological mind game Lisa is playing on her father, like she’s the puppet master behind professional football and she can change the outcomes based on her whims. Whether she’s trying to teach Homer a lesson, or just being melancholy in her musings, Lisa makes Homer realize her value to him, and the two finally reunite in the end. This is a pretty solid episode, but I think it suffers having followed the much superior “Lisa’s Pony,” which put Homer in a bit more caring light.

Tidbits and Quotes
– There’s some absolutely fantastic bits of animation in the beginning: the opening to Inside Football Today does a great job mimicking early 90s-style computer animation, but with traditional means. And the sequence of Homer rapidly eating four different kinds of salty snack treats around him on the couch is spectacular.
– Smooth Jimmy Apollo may be my favorite one-off Phil Hartman character. Despite his indecisive nature (being right only 52% of the time will do that to a guy, I guess), he still exudes all the confidence and vigor you expect from Hartman. I love after his recommendation of Denver, and after Homer’s bet, thirteen seconds into the game, they’re down a touchdown.
– I always found it sweet that Marge is giving Maggie a bath in the sink, and very funny that Bart walks in and drops his dishes in it.
– The giant lock and giant shoe are great props for the sports forecasters. My favorite bit in the whole show though is the Coach’s hotline, a fast-talking man on the commercial, but sloooow to enunciation on the phone. A bone-headed Homer complains, “Come on, don’t you realize this is costing me money?”
– There’s a sweet minor plot in the first act with Marge taking Bart out to buy new clothes, from the discount rack. When Bart claims he’ll get beat up wearing outfits such as those, Marge responds, “Well, anyone who beats you up for wearing a shirt isn’t your friend.” Missing the point entirely, but a nice bit of motherly advice.
– I love the security guards catching a little girl wearing unpaid socks out of the store, rushing out of the control room with high-powered rifles.
– There’s some great bits in a montage of Sundays, with Lisa batting 100% (“I like the 49ers because they’re pure of heart, Seattle because they’ve got something to prove, and the Raiders because they always cheat.”) This is followed by an announcer calling another game (“And on an extreeeeeemely suspicious play, the Raiders win!”)
– The scene at the fancy restaurant is so sweet, where the family earnestly laugh at Homer and Bart’s hackneyed jokes.
– I love the talk box Homer gives Bart. I remember seeing commercials for those types of things, and it’s brought back excellently at the end of the second act, giving a minor break in the tension.
– Great dream sequence of an old drunken Lisa hawking jewelry for gambling chips. It’s horrifyingly wonderful.
– I thought we never saw Caesar and Uglion in any other episode, but here they are, passing over the big game for a Jerry Lewis comedy, of course.
– A brief appearance by Troy McClure plugging his new sitcom that will play after the game. When asked why he chose to do the project, he replies, “I fell in love with the script, Brent. And my recent trouble with the IRS sealed the deal!”
– Great bit with the “never tedious Super Bowl half-time show,” a bizarre display of men in giant alien heads dancing to “Rock Around the Clock.” Bart bemoans, “This sucks. Come on, snipers, where are you!” I also love the Duff Bowl. Upon hearing Duff Dry has won, Moe comments, “They wanted it more.”