(originally aired May 4, 1997)
Oh man, is there a lot to say about this one. “Homer’s Enemy” has always been, and still remains one of my favorite episodes the show has ever done, but it’s incredibly unique, and an interesting prelude for a lot of the content and tone of later seasons. Homer’s dimwitted nature and bravado are ramped up to a ridiculous degree in this episode, but within a specific context where it makes sense, but much of said behavior would bleed into his regular personality later on. But let’s set the stage first. The power plant has a new hire: self-made man Frank Grimes, a normal, no-nonsense kind of guy. He’s instantly put off by Homer’s laziness, his oafish demeanor, and his disregard for reading labels on lunch bags. It isn’t long before he openly says to his face that he hates him and that they’re enemies. This deeply affects Homer, who does his best to try to get ol’ Grimey in his good graces, but all he does seems to aggravate him further. Grimes attempts to humiliate Homer by tricking him into entering a children’s modeling contest, but it completely backfires when he wins and is applauded for it. Past his breaking point, Grimes snaps and runs about the plant mimicking Homer’s careless behavior, ending with him grasping electrical cords without safety gloves, resulting in his demise.

The alleged idea of the episode is that Frank Grimes represents someone from the “real world” who finds himself in the bizarre town of Springfield. It totally makes sense, as Grimes feels and sounds unlike any other character we’ve seen. Hank Azaria gives an absolutely fantastic performance. The voice and design have shades of Michael Douglas from the movie Falling Down, just this regular guy who is moments from being pushed over the edge. He’s right up there with Hank Scorpio for best one-off character ever. So Homer is a man of unbelievable incompetence and stupidity, yet he’s the safety inspector at a nuclear power plant, a position where he could ultimately doom the entire town. That’s one of the overall running jokes of the series, but here it’s shone upon more, as it would with any one of us seeing this in action in real life. The point is for all his redeeming qualities, at the workplace, we would be put off by a guy like Homer. A man who should have been killed dozens of times by now by his own ignorance should not be in that position.

Along with his slacking off at work, Homer is much more absent-mindedly annoying in this episode, stealing all of Grimes’s pencils, loitering at his workstation, and so forth. He’s almost like a caricature of himself, but in this episode it makes sense because that’s what he’s called on to be. It’s all the negative aspects of Homer all at the forefront from Grimes’s perspective to drive him absolutely bananas. The issue here is that I guess the writers loved writing Homer like this and wanted to carry on some of those exaggerated traits. And so from here on out, slowly but surely, we get more jokes of Homer being unabashedly dumb, thoughtless, careless, pompous, and just being an overall caricature of his previous self. The good folks at Dead Homers pointed out a particularly striking line: during his freakout, Grimes madly remarks, “I’m better than okay. I’m Homer Simpson!” To which Homer cockily responds, “You wish!” Homer may be a man comfortable with his lot in life, but he’s well aware that he’s just an average schmoe. His great achievements and accolades over the run of the series are contrasted with this, and that’s why they’re funny; Homer never acknowledges how amazing all these things are. But in later seasons, he seems almost aware of how great his life has been, thinking that he deserves things, and worst of all, thinking that he’s somebody. And worse than that, when times call for it, he becomes a celebrated town hero (a la winning the model contest) instead of a barely-tolerated working schmuck. Former Homer was more thrilled over a tray of brownies than meeting George Harrison. Two seasons from now, he cozies up to Alec Baldwin and Kim Basinger in a matter of seconds. I don’t know to what degree this episode was a specific catalyst for what’s to come, but it does feel like it played some sort of role in it.

But despite any and all visions of future doom, “Homer’s Enemy” on its own is absolutely brilliant. The idea of a real man’s frustration over Homer’s relatively easy road through life is pretty sharp, and executed splendidly. The best scene is when Homer invites Grimes to the Simpson home to hope to smooth things over, which ultimately makes things worse when it only illuminates more wonderful things about his life. Again, Hank Azaria is frigging amazing as Grimes, absolutely shocked and bewildered at the blessed life this absolute moron lives. There’s plenty of other great gags throughout the episode, like Lenny and Carl’s cavalier attitude toward Homer (“That’s the man who’s in charge of our safety? It boggles the mind!” “It’s best not to think about it,”) the new executive vice president (a dog), and the other kids at the model contest. There’s also a B-story involving Bart winning an abandoned warehouse at auction for a dollar, and he and Milhouse using it as their extremely dangerous playhouse. It’s amusing if not disposable, but it actually does play into the main story in a good way. Everything about Homer’s life is seemingly perfect, but Bart is a bit of a gray area. So now, irrepressible hellion becomes young entrepreneurial factory owner in Grimes’s eyes. So, in summation, “Homer’s Enemy” is fucking amazing and an inventive, solid episode. It’s just what followed in its footsteps that I got issues with.

Tidbits and Quotes
– Grimes’s life could not have been worse. Abandoned by his parents as a child (who were shooting footage of them leaving him from the back of their car for some reason), he spent his youth delivering toys to more fortunate kids. Then as a young man, he was greatly injured in a silo explosion (as we see, he was just running by said silo, which exploded only when he got directly next to it). He studied science by mail in his spare minutes of each day, and eventually got his correspondent’s in nuclear physics, “with a minor in determination,” according to Kent Brockman.
– Great character bit of Frank wiping his hand on his pants before going to shake hands. A small thing like that tells a lot about a character instantly.
– I love how even Burns is swayed by television fluff pieces: one day he’s swayed by Grimes’s story, the next of a particularly heroic dog (“He pulled a toddler from the path of a speeding car, then pushed a criminal in front of it!”) The dog becomes his “executive vice president,” getting a sash to that effect, and is later heard chewing out (or barking, rather) Grimes in Burns’s office, and also attends his funeral at the ending.
– Homer aggravates Grimes instantly, admiring one of his personally mongrammed pencils, knocking the coffee cup full of them over. I love how freaked out Grimes is over this.
– I’ve always loved how Homer claimed he had no idea what a “nuclear panner plant” was, then Grimes gives an unsure forced laugh, unable to determine if it was a joke or not.
– More great Hank Azaria as the fast-talking auctioneer.
– Grimes notices alarms at Homer’s workstation, informing him it’s a 513. Homer checks his watch. Grimes explains it’s a 513 procedural. Homer checks his watch again. When he finally registers there’s a problem, Homer returns to his workstation, pours a bucket of water on the console, frying it, “solving” the problem. Grimes watches from the window, mouth agape.
– Grimes is bewildered at how cavalier Homer can act after almost just drinking a beaker of sulfuric acid. The blank, grinning look on his face is so hysterical, and that one shot so summarizing of the episode, that there was no question what the header picture for this review would be.
– Homer goes to Moe for advice on having an enemy, to which the bartender reveals his own enemies list, but Barney points out it’s just the same one as Richard Nixon’s. Moe then tries to give Homer some real guidance (“Why don’t you invite him over. Turn him from an enemy to a friend. Then when he’s not expecting it, bam! The ol’ fork in the eye.” “Do you think it might work without the fork in the eye?” “There’s always a first time.”)
– Everything about the dinner scene is fantastic: the haggard Grimes at the Simpson doorstep, his slow registration of Homer’s lavish living space, revealing he lives above a bowling alley and below another bowling alley, and the piling on of Homer’s accolades to further infuriate him (“I’ve had to work hard every day of my life, and what do I have to show for it?  This briefcase and this haircut!”) Homer is nervous, but still clueless (“I’m saying you’re what’s wrong with America, Simpson. You coast through life, you do as little as possible, and you leech off of decent, hardworking people like me! If you lived in any other country in the world, you’d have starved to death long ago.”)
– I love Homer’s attempt to look professional, with his Mr. Good Employee poster and eating donuts with a fork and knife, and his insistence that he continue his conversation with Grimes during the designated work period (“Sincerely, Homer Simpson.”) Grimes is not swayed.
– Excellent foreshadowing when Grimes claims he could die a happy man if he could prove to everyone that Homer is a moron. Guess that didn’t work out so well.
– The only great bit of note from the B-story is Milhouse’s interpretation of his title as “watchman” when Bart returns to find the warehouse collapsed (“I saw the whole thing. First it started falling over, then it fell over.”) Then all the rats flurry into Moe’s (“Okay, everybody tuck your pants into your sock!”)
– The model contest is a great scene. First up is Ralph with a Malibu Stacy dream house, which Smithers is of course impressed by, but Burns, not so much (“Hot tub? Media room? It’s supposed to be a power plant, not Aunt Beaulah’s bordello!”) Martin provides an extremely impressive design, which happens to actually generate power, but Burns isn’t so receptive (“Too cold and sterile. Where’s the heart!”) Then we have Homer, with an extremely crude model. Grimes cries out about the ridiculousness of the scenario, but is quickly shushed. Homer points out how he copied the existing plant, added fins to the cooling towers for “wind resistence,” and added a sharp racing stripe. Burns is sold: first prize. Grimes is stunned (“But it was a contest for children!” “Yeah, and Homer beat their brains out!”) It’s the perfect absurd catalyst for Grimes to finally go mad.
– Grimes’s freakout is astounding, and oh so quotable (“I’m peeing on the seat! Give me a raise!”) The animation, Azaria’s performance, everyone else just following Grimes silently, the uncomfortableness of it really plays, that this is a man who’s truly lost it (“Hello, Mr. Burns! I’m the worst worker in the world! Time to go home to my mansion and eat my lobster!”)
– I love not even in death can Grimes catch a break, that in the eulogy, Lovejoy remarks that “Grimey” was his preferable nickname.

(originally aired April 27, 1997)
Here we have another Marge episode coupled with an examination of an unexplored secondary character. But forget about all that, the most important thing this show has to offer is the immortal Mr. Sparkle, one of the greatest and most bizarre creations of the entire series. I’ll get to him later though. Despite that wacky and amazing sub-plot, the main story is actually quite strong, which surprised me as I didn’t really remember it all that much. It gives a real humanity to Reverend Lovejoy, a man who wishes to help and invigorate his flock, but has just lost his religious mojo. We establish at the start how his stale and droning sermons lull the entire town to sleep, and his advice to the community is rather lacking. A flashback sheds some light on the subject: Lovejoy was a spirited go-getter in the mid-seventies, open to the concerns of his new congregation in Springfield, but met his match with worrywart Ned Flanders. After weeks and months of calls regarding exaggeratedly inconsequential matters (“I think I may be coveting my own wife!”), Lovejoy was beaten down, admitting he just stopped caring (“Luckily, by then it was the eighties, and no one noticed.”)

While we find Lovejoy is a man who’s become completely numbed emotionally, Marge has an open and caring heart toward everyone. She volunteers at the church and ends up falling into the role of the “Listen Lady,” assisting the citizens of Springfield with their problems. This role fits perfectly, as people are instantly taken by her motherly advice. Meanwhile, Lovejoy finds himself effectively replaced. There’s a spectacular sequence when he envisioned the saints on his stained glass windows (which have never been seen before or since, of course) chewing him out. Another great scene is seeing him all by his lonesome in the basement with his train set. It really did bring a tear to my eye. The show is so good at making us care about these minor characters in no time at all. Basically the episode is fantastic up until the third act, where things get a bit strange. Marge’s words of wisdom backfire involving Flanders dealing with some hooligans, which end up with him being chased out of town all night by the bullies on mini-bikes, for some reason. Then Ned hides out in the baboon sanctuary at the zoo, for some reason. And Lovejoy has to fight them off to save him, for some reason. The resolution was just kind of silly and nonsensical, and the big dramatic brawl ending is just a big harbinger for similar over-the-top action-oriented endings to come. I did like Lovejoy’s emphatic sermon at the end though, finally having gotten some life back into him (“A pair of the great apes rose up at me but bam, bam! I sent them flying like two hairy footballs!”)

Okay, enough of that. Miiiisstaah Sparkllllee! On a trip to the dump, Homer is extremely bewildered at the discovery of a Japanese detergent box with his face on it. He seeks out answers, with a return appearance of Akira and a visit to the library, where he asks for a Japanese phone book, then asks to use the phone (“Is it a local call?” “……yes.”) The Mr. Sparkle company sends him a video tape that should clear things up, featuring the Mr. Sparkle commercial, which is one of the best single segments the series has ever done. After watching a fair share of Japanese media after seeing this, it basically is pretty spot on. It’s just such a spectacular piece, where just when you think it can’t get weirder, it does. And you gotta love the subtitles (“I am disrespectful to dirt! Can you see I am serious?”) Homer is initially as baffled as we are, but it’s then revealed Mr. Sparkle is the result of the merging of two companies and their logos. A grinning fish combined with a lightbulb become… Homer’s head. It’s an absolutely brilliant conclusion (“There’s your answer, fish-bulb!”) A solid and interesting A-story, and one of the greatest side stories of all time? Awesome-ah power!

Tidbits and Quotes
– Great read on Homer’s loud “Dammit!” whilst nodding off and hitting his head on the pew. Sacrilicous. Before long, everyone is asleep, and the Reverend must use his noise buttons to awaken his flock (he chooses “Bird.”)
– I like Homer, Bart and Lisa’s joy of coming back from church, touting it the best part of the week (“It’s the longest possible time before more church!”)
– While Marge is doing chores at church, like putting the collection plates in the dishwasher, Lovejoy uses his time wisely (“Did you know, thanks to you, that I discovered a form of shame that’s gone unused for 700 years?”)
– Marge is an instant hit with her advice, first with Moe (“I’ve lost the will to live.” “That’s ridiculous, Moe. You’ve got lots to live for.” “Really? That’s not what Reverend Lovejoy’s been telling me. Wow, you’re good, thanks!”)
– Great meta moment when in response to Homer’s paranoia about the Mr. Sparkle box, Marge comments that it’s absurd that he thinks that they’re being watched. Cut to an aerial shot of the dinner table as the family eats a tad nervously for a few seconds. I love that it’s an underplayed moment and doesn’t get drawn out.
– I love Akira’s explanation of Mr. Sparkle (“He identifies himself as a magnet for foodstuffs. He boasts that he will banish dirt to the land of wind and ghosts. You have very lucky dishes, Mr. Simpson. This soap is from the sacred forests of Hokkaido, renowned for its countless soap factories.”)
– I’m sure some people don’t care for the extended bit of Homer dialing the phone, thinking it’s just filler, but I love just how long it goes, and how he has to look back at the book for each number he dials. He can’t remember more than one number?
– Lovejoy must confront his visions of the saints, accusing him of being uncaring and not doing enough for his congregation (“I thought saints were supposed to be friendly.” “You’re just lucky God isn’t here!”)
– As I said, I love the bit with Lovejoy and his trains. I also like that Helen calls Marge in genuine concern of her husband. It feels so real, it’s great (“Attention, HO-scale passengers. The dining car is closed. Root beer is still available, but the cost is now six-fifty. If the passengers will look to their right, you will see a sad man. That is all.”)
– Where does one get gas at the cheap price of $1.49 and eight-tenths? Donny’s Discount Gas! And holy shit, you’re damn right that’s a discount from today’s standards.
– The only things I like about the ending is the zookeeper explaining why he can’t help Ned (“If they don’t kill the intruder, it’s really bad for their society,”) and Lovejoy’s thank-you to Marge (“She taught me that there’s more to being a minister than not caring about people.”)
– One minor bit, I kind of wish that when the family went to Japan, they’d have made a Mr. Sparkle reference. Considering those tourists at the zoo immediately identified Homer, it would seem to make sense. But then, of course, if you’re watching that episode and have never seen this one, it makes no sense, so I get why they wouldn’t have done it.

(originally aired April 20, 1997)
It’s always interesting to see instances of Burns out of his element. Behind his position of power, he’s a vulnerable, feeble old man who hasn’t had to deal with the outside world and the peons who live there for decades. This episode cuts the miser down a peg, as he finds out that his fortune has all but depleted thanks to his team of spineless yes men not having the nerve to correct him on his poor and outdated stock choices. Without his mansion or his plant, Burns has nothing, a sad old man left to his own devices in his former subordinate’s apartment. Now, this defanged Burns characterization is a delicate balancing act, to thrust poor old Monty out into the world to marvel at ordinary items like public transportation and cereal boxes, but never lose sight that this is the same man who blocked out the sun and kidnapped Tom Jones. They succeed… mostly. Burns getting trapped in the freezer and seeking for a cereal with his face on it works, but absent-mindedly greeting fellow human beings doesn’t (“I’m shopping!”) Overseeing the delirious old man, two grocery clerks end up having him escorted to the retirement home. I get where they’re going with all this, but seeing Burns this far removed from his former persona is a bit unusual.

Alongside this story, we also have Lisa’s crusade for recycling, as part of her Junior Achievers Club at school. Burns is a guest speaker at one of their meetings, and the two have a heated back-and-forth on the subject of conservation, setting up Lisa’s personal distaste for the man. They cross paths again later on at the retirement home, where Burns beseeches Lisa’s help to regain his fortune. After some persistence, and a parody montage, she reluctantly agrees (“You could only earn money by doing good, socially responsible things. Nothing evil.” “That’s exactly the kind of radical thinking I need!”) The kindly Burns/Lisa dynamic is kind of sweet, I’ll admit, as the two do their part in picking up cans and organizing and separating various recyclables, which then leads to Burns somehow having enough money to open his own recycling plant. Perhaps he took out a loan of some kind, I dunno. But Lisa is shocked to see that Burns hasn’t changed much, as he has taken to recycling creatures of the sea into industrial slurry to sell for a profit. Soon after, Burns reveals he has sold the plant and offers Lisa her entitled 10%, but she tears up the check, knowing in good conscious she couldn’t accept it knowing where it came from.

I really love the reveal of the Li’l Lisa animal slurry. We set up the six-pack rings twice before, once at the very beginning and later with Burns, as Lisa explicitly shows him how fish can get caught in them. But while she is demonstrating how to compassionately free a helpless animal, Burns sees it the other way around, how such trappings can be used to ensnare sea life for profit. His gigantic net is such a great idea, one he’s extremely proud of and believes Lisa will be impressed too. Even when Burns is not trying to be evil, he’s just hard wired to be that way unintentionally, he honestly doesn’t understand what Lisa is so upset about. While I don’t care for some of the poor delirious Burns stuff, I love this turn at the end. The story is pretty solid, if only a bit rushed. The recycling plant couldn’t have been operational for more than a few days before Burns up and sold it. The laughs are also kind of sporadic. There’s a lot of great stuff at the beginning with Skinner and the recycling center hippie, and a few other things here and there, but multiple scenes will go by with no real laughs. However, it’s still a pretty good episode on the whole, with a different look at Mr. Burns, albeit one that would be exaggerated to a terrible degree in the future.

Tidbits and Quotes
– It’s a quick bit, but I love “Dracula Joins the Navy” (“Uh, Colonel?” “Blehh!”)
– I like Bart’s attitude on recycling being useless (“Once the sun burns out, this planet is doomed. You’re just making sure we spend our last days using inferior products.”) Not even Marge can feign interest after Lisa chides her for mixing polyapolane with polyurethane (I love Homer’s high-pitched indignant “Marge!” at her mix-up.)
– Homer stupidly chuckling whilst dropping entire books in the trash feels like a very latter-day Homer thing to do, but it’s saved when after Lisa tells her father it’s a serious matter, he continues doing it with a stern face, stifling his giggles.
– Two great Burns speeches, first in addressing the Junior Achievers (“I’ll keep it short and sweet. Family, religion, friendship. These are the three demons you must slay if you wish to succeed in business. When opportunity knocks, you don’t want to be driving to a maternity hospital or sitting in some phony-baloney church, or synagogue.”) The second is when Lisa urges the need to save the planet (“So Mother Nature needs a favor? Well maybe she should have thought of that when she was besetting us with droughts and floods and poison monkeys. Nature started the fight for survival, and now she wants to quit because she’s losing? Well I say, hard cheese!”) We also get a great callback with Lisa holding up a copy of “Will There Ever Be a Rainbow?” Surely Homer tossed it aside when Burns gave it to him, leaving Lisa to pick it up and read it.
– Nice read on Burns when he checks the stock ticker tape and discovers the 1929 market crash. He chastises Smithers for not informing him, who rebuffs by saying it occurred twenty five years before his birth (“Oh, that’s your excuse for everything!”)
– I love seeing Skinner irritated upon finding a half ton of newspapers only earns them seventy-five cents. Lisa tries to reassure him that all that paper combined could save an entire tree, but a frustrated Skinner speedily pulls out of the parking lot, smashing into a tree causing it to collapse, while children inside bawl uncontrollably. Brilliant.
– Not much I can say about Bret Hart, but why would Burns ask his permission to take his portrait with him? It’s his possession, he’s only selling the house. And in the end he leaves it behind anyway.
– I loved seeing Lenny in charge, and the later reference of his abuse of power, and him being a “real bear” on tardiness.
– Not only am I not sure why Krusty is shopping at the local supermarket, but why is he buying Krusty O’s? Doesn’t he remember writhing in horrible pain after eating one at a press conference? Because I sure do, because it was hilarious. I like Burns’s concession of picking Count Chocula, commenting that the vampire sort of looks like him.
– “Ketchup… catsup… ketchup… catsup… I’m in way over my head.” “Are you here to solve my ketchup problem?” I laugh every time at this.
– It’s kind of sweet in a weird way that Homer drank himself to sickness so his daughter could recycle all the beer cans. The animation of him smashed out of his mind is so funny.
– I don’t really care for the bits of Burns and Grampa conversing. What about their Hellfish past? They hate each others guts.
– Cute bit when Maggie gestures her hand like a gun toward Burns, to which Burns cavalierly reacts (“Ah, the baby who shot me…”)
– I like that the recycling plant windows made out of old beer bottles… and of course Barney is there to lick them clean.
– The animal slurry is quite disgusting, but I love its many many uses (“It’s a high-protein feed for farm animals, insulation for low-income housing, a powerful explosive and a top-notch engine coolant. And best of all, it’s made from one hundred percent recycled animals!”)
– The ending is fantastic, where Homer has four simultaneous heart attacks when Lisa rips up the check. At the hospital, he forgives his daughter for blowing twelve thousand dollars. Lisa innocently informs her dad what her cut actually was worth, and then… “Code blue! Code blue!” Rearrange the order and this could be the final episode. Homer had one last heart attack and died. Series over.

(originally aired April 13, 1997)
I gotta tell you, I’m not quite sure where to start with this one. There were so many elements to it that confused me or just didn’t work… so I guess I’ll take it from the top. Shenanigans begin when Bart gets his hands on a credit card under his dog’s name (I do like how Santa’s Little Helper becomes Santos L. Halper) and goes on a spending spree. Amongst the extravagant items he buys is a pure bred collie named Laddie, who is basically the most perfect of perfect dogs. It isn’t long before all of Bart’s purchases are repossessed, and in a knee-jerk decision, Bart has Santa’s Little Helper taken in Laddie’s place, eventually leading to his great remorse of this decision. The rest of the family is basically in the dark about most of this, for reasons that escape me. Bart gives them all lavish gifts and has a room full of expensive junk and nobody says anything? He also claims he got Laddie at a church carnival two towns over at a “truth-telling contest.” I get it’s supposed to be a joke, but there’s so many points in this episode I feel like Marge or even Homer would say something about what’s happening, but everyone just kind of goes along with it. It didn’t make a lot of sense to me.

This is an episode that kind of needs to hinge on Bart’s relationship with Santa’s Little Helper… except it doesn’t really show it. In the first act we see the dog clumsily knock into the front door and stare into the window for hours on end, but not much affection is given to the poor mutt. There’s one scene where Bart hugs the dog after receiving the phony credit card, but it’s not really something that’s genuine, he’s just glad using the dog as a pawn in his scheme worked. He ignores his dog when Laddie comes into the picture, and then later feels bad when he gives him away, which all could have worked if we had more build-up showing the love for his dog. Of course we know that Bart loves him, as we’ve seen in “Bart vs. Thanksgiving” and “Dog of Death,” but thinking back to those episodes only makes this one feel more ramshackle. Toward the end, we find that a blind man now owns Santa’s Little Helper and Bart must get him back. This is a tough pill to swallow, even knowing how much those two love each other, but in this episode, it’s even worse given that I don’t even buy Bart loves the dog. I’d rather he stay with the poor blind man.

This episode marks a first, at 173 episodes in, this is the first one I felt like turning off. After getting Lisa’s blessing for robbing the blind man (what?!), Bart’s sneaking into his house is so tedious, we get cloying out-of-character Bart pleading with the man and a hackneyed bit where they let the dog decide ownership (what is this, Air Bud?) Not even the marijuana twist at the end can save it. The show just felt incredibly thin, where nothing important really happens in the second act at all, it’s just filling time before Bart decides to get the dog back. There are a few good jokes and amusing parts, but a lot of it felt pretty dead to me. It set up a situation where Bart’s antics and behavior went too far, and I found myself rooting against him. Even at his lowest pathetic point, I didn’t think he deserved the dog back. It’s just a really scatterbrained episode that misses most of its marks.

Tidbits and Quotes
– I guess it’s good satire that even Bart’s phony application is good enough for “MoneyBank” to get him a card. I like how he lists his income, “Whatever I finds, I keeps.”
– Bart finds out pretty quickly he can’t get away using his card at local vendors, such as Comic Book Guy (“Your phony credit card is no good here. Now make like my pants, and split!”)
– I like the voice over of Bart’s pachinko machine (“You winner! Ha ha ha!”) and Lisa’s ticked reaction to her new pep pills (Trucker’s Choice).
– I love the condescending, but cheerful speech the creditor gives Bart on the phone (“Because you sound like a mature, responsible person who wouldn’t want an unpaid credit card bill to spoil all his hopes and dreams for the future. Dreams such as home ownership, boat ownership and event-attendance!”) Bart decides enough is enough and has Laddie bury the credit card. Fat Tony and his goons bury a body alongside him (“We didn’t see nothin’ if you didn’t see nothin’!”)
– Mr. Burns likes Laddie? What happened to “Dogs are idiots!” Then again he did take a shine to one of Santa’s Little Helper’s puppies. But then again, he wanted to skin the rest of them.
– Milhouse indignantly recalls an incident with Santa’s Little Helper (“Remember the time he ate my goldfish, and you lied to me and said I never had any goldfish? Then why did I have the bowl, Bart? Why did I have the bowl?”) Bart responds, “Yeah, he was a great dog.”
– Bart’s dog furnace fantasy is a bit slow and boring, but saved by him looking out the window musing, “Where are yah, boy?” followed by a distant boat horn noise.
– Classic Homer line: “You gave both dogs away?! You know how I feel about giving!” I also kind of like his pep talk speech to Bart, which he hopes will end in his son eating dog food.
– The best gag in the episode is probably Moe’s repossessed floor. We see the Repo Depot is not a large building, then all of a sudden we see Moe’s entire floor propped against the wall (“Hey, next time, pay your bills.” “But I don’t want to!”)
– I always liked the red bow tie on Polly’s skeleton neck. You’d think it would have rotted much quicker than its body. Or maybe Mr. Mitchell’s been fitting the tie on his beloved bird’s remains for a long while now.
– I was so numbed by the third act, the marijuana bit didn’t even faze me, though I do love Mr. Mitchell’s excuse (“Without it, I could go even… blinder!”) Hank Azaria ad-libbing with himself as Wiggum and Lou to “Jamming” over the credits is pretty amusing too, with one last “Jamming!” over the Gracie Films logo.

(originally aired April 6, 1997)
Well, my timing is impeccable. Just in time for Valentine’s Day, here’s an episode centered around a torrid schoolhouse romance. Having Skinner and Krabappel kindle a relationship isn’t exactly an original idea, but it’s kind of interesting to see in action. Harry Shearer and Marcia Wallace hand in very believable and nuanced performances. The scenes building up to their kiss feel very genuine, and we buy that they’re attracted to each other as two lonely people wishing to share a connection. It’s a sweet story overall, but it feels a little thin, with things included to draw it out that don’t really feel right. First, their relationship must, for some reason, remain a secret. This seems like the kind of weirdly paranoid stuff lesser minded characters would be nerve-racking about, but Skinner and Krabappel are two pretty intelligent people. Do they really think Chalmers would go into a rage if they ran it by him? What does it matter? Instead, they must keep it hush-hush, and strike a deal with the only witness of their kiss, Bart, with his silence being made in exchange for his hefty permanent record being swapped for some other poor sap (Milhouse).

From this point, Bart falls into the weird role of Skinner and Krabappel’s walking excuse. When Chalmers stumbles upon the two at a late night movie, Skinner rushes to get Bart out of bed to the theater to keep up the ruse of a school field trip. They use Bart to exchange mash notes to each other. Bart must watch Agnes while Skinner is out. Atop the absurdity of keeping this such a ridiculous secret, why are they throwing Bart around like this, and why is he agreeing to it? Bart has all the leverage, why would Skinner force Bart to say, “I love you, Edna Krabappel,” in front of the class, when he knew it would humiliate him? It’s incredibly bizarre to me. The second act is only saved due to the individual scenes being hysterical, such as Chalmers whispering to a half-asleep Bart in the movies (“Do you think they actually filmed this in Atlanta?”) and Agnes’s photo album of pictures of cakes (“You can’t have that one! That’s a coconut cake!”)

Bart finally reaches his limit and exposes Skinner and Krabappel’s make-out session in the janitor’s closet to the entire school. The innocent embellishments of the scene by the kids get their parents all flared up, as well as Chalmers, who is out for Skinner and Krabappel’s jobs. After a pep talk from Bart, Skinner springs into action, barricading Krabappel and himself in the school until their jobs and relationship is secure. Things start feeling more draggy in the third act. The silliness is ever present and you know how it’s going to end, so you’re just drawing out the clock until the credits. What is successful is how the controversy begins and ends. All the kids give their own outrageous versions of the story, some by here-say, which when it gets to the parents becomes here-say of here-say, until it goes too far (“Sordid public sexual congress!”) To completely clear his name, Skinner must make a shocking public confession: at forty-four years old, he is still a virgin. The crowd is stunned. I remember seeing this episode quite often as a kid (during my syndication viewings, season 8 seemed to be in heavy rotation), and I can’t remember what I thought about this ending or what it meant. But I love it now, how everyone is so floored and uncomfortable they just disband from the crowd as quick as they can. So yeah, while the story is flimsy and some parts don’t make sense, we’re still left with a fair share of amusing scenes, and a solid overall premise. It’s passable. But since it’s Valentine’s Day, I’ll be nice, it’s pretty darn neato.

Tidbits and Quotes
– I love Skinner’s boring morning announcements (“Finally, the bake sale to raise money for the car wash has been cancelled due to confusion.”) Krabappel’s class is so struck with boredom that Edna must light a firecracker in the middle of the room to wake them up.
– I don’t know why, but I love Homer’s little scene play-acting astronauts for a bored Bart and Milhouse. It feels really sweet that he’s doing this for Bart. The writers needed a scene where Bart decides to go to Martin’s lame party, so they needed to have him doing something even more lame. This is a logical and amusing solution. And we have Homer mimicking Richard Nixon.
– Martin’s party is a pretty lavish gala, complete with an ice statue of himself, which Bart breaks the fingers off to put in his class. We also get a great scene with the Mathemagician, who has the power to make remainders disappear (with help of a magical 7). The climax of the kids getting sick from oysters is pretty great. Bart notices Lisa on a stretcher (“Hey, why’d you eat them? I thought you were a vegetarian.” “I didn’t. I just wanted to leave.”)
– The scene with Skinner and Krabapple in the playhouse is pretty sweet (“What kind of little boy has a tea set?” “I think we both know the answer to that… a lucky boy.”) I also like both party’s compliments to each other; Edna finds Seymour’s innocence charming, and Skinner likes Krabappel’s “tart honesty and ability to be personally offended by broad social trends.”
– The scene with Agnes and Bart is my favorite bit of the show. I like seeing Mrs. Skinner act like an old lady. Later, they’d just use her to be angry and bitter at her son all the time. It reminded me of Bart having to deal with Mrs. Glick in “Three Men and a Comic Book.” (“I don’t have much saliva left, so you’ll have to lick my thumb before I can turn the page.” “Can’t I just turn the page for you?” “No!”)
– I like how childishly giddy Lisa is recounting Skinner and Krabappel allegedly being naked in the janitor’s closet, and Homer’s knee-jerk reaction to this news (“Bart’s teacher is named Krabappel? I’ve been calling her Crandall! Why didn’t someone tell me? Oh, I’ve been making an idiot out of myself!”) Then of course, there’s Ralph’s immortal retelling (“Mrs. Krabappel and Principal Skinner were in the closet making babies and I saw one of the babies and then the baby looked at me.” “The baby looked at you?!”)
– Skinner announces from the school roof they’ve locked themselves in until their demands are met, to an audience of one (“Willie hears ya. Willie don’t care.”) Bart assists in creating a scene, calling the local news about a giant octopus, spurring up a media circus. Kent Brockman reports (“So, once again, I’ve been had. But an even more interesting story has developed high atop this two-story school: a love story.”)
– Great bit with Homer and the megaphone, asking Bart where the remote is. Turns out it was in his pocket the whole time. I like how he talks back to Marge through the megaphone for a second, then realizes it and puts it down to finish his sentence. Latter-day Homer would just scream into the megaphone in his wife’s face.
– I love how embittered Chalmers is, speaking how as a public servant he isn’t permitted to use his judgement in any way, and his response to Krabappel’s request to take their case to the people, raising the dander of a certain Mr. Sideshow Mel (“Oh, yeah, that’ll be real productive. Who do you want to talk to first? The, the guy with a bumblebee suit, or the one with a bone through his hair?” “My opinions are as valid as the next man’s!”)
– I don’t buy that Skinner would go with Bart’s bomb idea, but it’s saved by jokes (Harry Shearer’s read on “I… have a bomb,” the Armour hot dogs jingle, and the animation of one lone hot dog sticking to Skinner’s shirt, then peeling off.)
– The crowd is miffed about the alleged naughty behavior going on in the school (“I don’t think we’re talking about love here. We’re talking about S-E-X. In front of the C-H-I-L-D-R-E-N.” “Sex Cauldron? I thought they closed that place down!”) Skinner’s admission of being a virgin shuts them up, with a great follow-up question from Homer (“Hey, does this mean that Mrs. Krabappel is a virgin, too?” “Ha!”) Chalmers is mollified (“Well, it’s clear you’ve been falsely accused. Because no one, anywhere, ever, would pretend to be a 44-year-old virgin.”) I love Hank Azaria’s quieted and hurried read for this last scene, so stunned by this news that he just wants to get the hell out of there.