(originally aired May 5, 1994)
What a fine episode. At its core, it felt like one of the great morality tales we’d seen in seasons 2 and 3, but with all of the wacky and offbeat jokes we’ve come to know, love and laugh at from this season. Bart remains at the show’s center, starting with his truant escapades leading to the main event, then his guilty conscious starts eating away at him. The emotional through-line is never forgotten, even amongst the Quimby/Kennedy jokes, Skinner’s relentless quest against Bart, and a mini-plot line of Homer living it up at a fancy hotel as part of a sequestered jury. This is another one of those episodes where I didn’t remember too much about (except for the most famous bit), and it really surprised me of how great it was.

On a particularly lovely day, Bart decides to skip school, but when Skinner catches wind of it, he goes into hot pursuit. It becomes this great cross between Ferris Bueller’s Day Off and a gritty crime drama, turning Skinner into this seemingly impossible force that Bart cannot escape from. He finally actually does, in the back of Mayor Quimby’s nephew Freddy’s convertible, whose destination is the Quimby compound for his lavish birthday party. Freddy is just as you’d expect from a young Quimby: loud, arrogant, and extremely entitled, all of which he can get away with, ’cause he’s a Kennedy… er, Quimby. A disagreement over the pronunciation of the word “chowder” (the best scene in the episode, of course), Freddy and the waiter have an altercation in the kitchen, which only Bart is witness to, which leaves the waiter brutally beaten.

As Freddy Quimby stands trial, Bart is in crisis: he knows the truth, but admitting it will be exposing his own guilt for skipping school. I like the various turns of the court case that give Bart more or less wiggle room: at first it seems like the case is in the bag, as Mayor Quimby is basically buying his nephew’s freedom, until Freddy makes another violent outburst over the “chowder” incident, which immediately turns off the jury. But dumb luck goes in Bart’s favor as his father prolongs the judging, if only so he can live in luxury at an all-expenses paid hotel. The scenes where Bart talks about his situation with Lisa, then his mother, are very genuine, and all reach an increasing level of urgency, until Bart finally takes the stand and reveals what happened: the waiter did himself in due to his incredible clumsiness, in one of the most ridiculous, and ridiculously well animated, scenes of the series. Skinner applauds Bart for his honesty, but in a great bait-and-switch, gives him detention anyway. All’s well that ends well, I guess.

Tidbits and Quotes
– It’s almost as if Bart is forced to play hooky by the impossibly wonderful day outside, and coming to school on a prison bus. The kicker is when he looks out the window and see Freddy Quimby in his cool car and hot girlfriend (“And to think I got all this after dropping out of the fourth grade!”) This is also a really tight show, where the Freddy story is set up this early, and is the catalyst of Bart leaving in the first place.
– The almost destitute Springfield Elementary apparently has an extensive crime lab, which Skinner uses to examine Bart’s bogus note (“Please excuse my handwriting, I busted whichever hand it is I write with. Signed, Mrs. Simpson.”) Skinner takes action, as he and Willie grill Lisa as of Bart’s whereabouts, in a cute scene where Lisa giggles about the two switching good cop/bad cop roles.
– I like the grim reality of Bart’s Huckleberry Finn fantasy coming true… in the form of two creepy hobos on a raft (“Hey kid, wanna see a dead body?”)
– Skinner’s search for Bart is a great character piece, with no sign of him at the natural history museum or the youth center (“Am I so out of touch? …no, it’s the children who are wrong.”)
– The Westworld bit of Skinner walking through the stream is fantastic, especially when the music stops and then starts up when he submerges and resurfaces. Another movie I watched after seeing a Simpsons reference, then loved all the more.
– As if Rainier Wolfcastle wasn’t enough of a Schwarzenegger parody, we see him with his wife Maria and that he owns a Humvee. Talk about on the nose.
– The “chowder” scene is hysterical, with Dan Castellaneta being so loud and annoying as Freddy, and Hank Azaria as the waiter being as deadpan as possible (“Come back here! I’m not through demeaning you.”)
– Another great Wiggum line (“Oh my God… someone’s taken a bite out of the Rice Krispies square! …oh, and the waiter’s been brutally beaten.”)
– Great bit with Skinner glaring at Bart from the jury box (“I know you can read my thoughts, Bart. Just a little reminder: if I found out you cut class, your ass is mine. Yes, you head me. I think words I would never say”) and Homer’s thoughts, which consist of the Meow Mix jingle.
– It’s interesting here that in this case, we have our lawyers reversed. Quimby’s lawyer doesn’t look like him, but has the same voice of the Blue Haired Lawyer, who always defends the guilty, more affluent party, while Lionel Hutz is the cheap affordable schmuck the Simpsons can actually afford. It makes sense given the representatives, though.
– Odd that Hutz got Dr. Hibbert, normally a respectable doctor, to give testimony on something as dumb as the “evil gene” (“Hitler had it, Walt Disney had it, and Freddy Quimby has it.”) That’s enough for Hutz (“I rest my case. …what? Oh no, I thought that was just a figure of speech. Case closed.”)
– Bart’s fantasy of the future of being a grizzled school cafeteria worker is hilarious (“This creamed corn tastes like creamed crap!” “Watch the potty mouth, honey.”)
– Homer exhibits more thickness as he gets Skinner to describe exactly what happens when a jury is deadlocked, and gets increasingly excited about his potential accommodations (“We’ll get a free room, free food, free swimming pool, free HBO… ooh, Free Willy!”) Also, really fantastic minor bit from Skinner, offhandedly calling it a film about a disobedient whale.
– We get the amazing return from “McGonigle,” which does nothing to comfort Bart, involving the detective convincing a little boy to testify, only to have his throat slit. McGonigle is not so moved (“Hey, I’m trying to eat lunch here!”)
– The ending with Skinner is absolutely amazing. He commends Bart for his bravery, then Bart tries to give himself an out by having it excuse his previous transgression. Skinner admits, “I’m a small man in some ways, Bart. A small, petty man. Three months detention.” Bart begins to walk away, but Skinner stops him. Pause. “Make that…” Pause. “Four months detention.” Hilarious.

(originally aired April 27, 1994)
Status quo is God for a reason. Just as in life, radical change can shake things up something fierce. Many characters in this show are defined by where they work and what they do, and are in deep trouble if they’re not. Mr. Burns needs the power plant. Apu needs the Kwik-E-Mart. And Principal Skinner needs to be Principal Skinner. Here we get a better examination of ol’ Spanky, the overbearing nature of his work, and his piddling attempts to live a life after he is let go. A lot of the middle of the episode of seeing Skinner’s day-to-day routine, living at his mother’s house, faux-conducting an orchestra in his bedroom, is extremely fascinating, and gives up real human insight into his character. As I mentioned last time about Burns, I’d love to see an entire episode just about Skinner and a regular week for him. These secondary characters are so rich, they’re just as engaging as the Simpson family.

The first time we see Skinner in the episode, he’s already a nervous wreck, struggling to defend himself on the phone with the superintendent. He’s a man who loves his job and the authority, but we can see he’s in hot water already. That leads us to further shenanigans when Santa’s Little Helper, who Bart brought in for show-and-tell, ends up roaming around the air ducts, and only a greased up Willie can apprehend him. When this turns into a disastrous fiasco, Superintendent Chalmers pays the school a visit (uttering the very first “SKINNER!!”) and promptly fires Skinner. Now Seymour is just any other civilian, shopping at the Kwik-E-Mart and paying a visit to the laundromat. The scene of Skinner running through all the detergent names and pondering which to use is spectacular. It’s so true to him that he would run through all his options and really consider his choice, even for something so trivial. Bart feels guilty for the situation he directly caused and decides to spend time with his ex-principal. At times it borders on out-of-character for him, but the fact that the friendship is slightly awkward on both of their ends feels very genuine.

Deciding it’s finally time to move on, Skinner re-enlists as a sergeant in the army, while the head of the PTA Ned Flanders is made the new principal. We get some nice moments displaying Ned’s namby-pamby disciplinary skills, and also a really telling look into his past, revealing his parents were a bunch of beatniks (I also want a young Ned Flanders spin-off too.) Eventually, Bart and Skinner hatch a plan to get him back, which comes up short, but Flanders ends up thwarting himself by daring to speak the name of the Almighty over the intercom (Chalmers delivers a classic line: “A prayer in a public school! God has no place within these walls, just like facts have no place within organized religion!”) As odd as it may have been at times, Bart and Skinner’s friendship was very sweet. It was interesting to see the two mortal enemies on a level playing field, actually enjoying each other’s company. They both acknowledge that once Skinner is back in power, their friendship must end, and they accept that (unless Bart becomes a good student, which he scoffs at the idea). It’s a real nice episode, lots of laughs, interesting character stuff. Jolly good show.

Tidbits and Quotes
– Nice home movies at the start, with Homer lighting his beard on fire, and the adorable baby Bart on the toilet. Marge makes a clever comment regarding Bart bringing the movies into class (“I’m not sure if I’m comfortable with the idea of your classmates laughing at our family’s private moments. How would you like it if, twenty years from now, people were laughing at things you did?”) Twenty years now, and I’m still laughin’.
– Nice quick moment with an ecstatic Willie, enamored by Santa’s Little Helper, pressing his face against the window of Mrs. K’s class.
– A nice brief appearance by Lunchlady Doris sifting through a barrel of assorted horse parts (“More testicles means more iron.”) Her deadpan reaction to Willie ripping off his shirt, revealing his muscular physique is fantastic (“Grease me up, woman!!” “…okey-dokey.”)
– The chase in the vents is wonderfully directed, and references not one, not two, but all three Alien movies. The first Alien with Skinner observing their locations on a computerized diagram of the vents (for a school with no budget, I’m surprised they have such sophisticated technology for such a useless purpose). Aliens when Skinner sticks his head in the vents and is licked by the dog. Then Alien 3 with the blurred shapes of the dog as he dashes through the vents. On catching the mutt, Willie delivers classic line (“There’s nary an animal alive that can outrun a greased Scotsman!”)
– Great timing as Skinner tells Chalmers everything’s under control, then a fireman falls off a ladder, knocks down the giant scoreboard machine and smashes the gymnasium window.
– First appearance of Leopold, who’s only been in two episodes, and serves one purpose: act like the angriest man who ever lived all for the purpose of a mislead when he drops the act. I love this character, and Dan Castelleneta does such a great job doing the grittiest, most enraged possible voice, all deflating for the final line of dialogue. I also love Chalmers’s anger toward the kids not responding to his jokes (“It’s just a damn popularity contest with you kids!”)
– Speaking of anger, Apu has a wonderful tirade toward Skinner’s obliviousness that he has ripped off Jurassic Park with his novel idea, with terrific time fades as Apu gets more and more irate (“…most popular movies of all time, sir! What were you thinking?! …I mean, thank you, come again.”)
– Great moment that makes Bart truly guilty about Skinner when the bullies steal his underwear at the laundromat (“I can buy a new pair! …no I can’t. I needed those, I really did.”)
– We also get the first appearance of Luigi, the greatest Italian stereotype, voiced by Hank Azaria. Not much to really say about him, other than he’s hilarious (“Hey Salvatore, give-ah the ugly kid a plate of the red-ah crap-ah!”)
– A nice sweet moment of a depressed Skinner mournfully gazing at the school after dark, remembering the good times, varying from serious (“I learned to read because of you, Principal Skinner!”) to the not so (“I got car sick in your office.”)
– More great true-to-Skinner moments when he reprimands his troops for their lewd army chants, who then switch over to a clean one about how old the Parthenon is.
– Another first appearance, this time of Gerald, the one-eyebrowed baby, Maggie’s arch nemesis. The baby has got to be up to something.
– I always thought the kids wrecking total havoc throughout the school was a bit much, like that wouldn’t happen with the other teachers and faculty still there, no matter how much they didn’t give a shit. I guess it’s worth it for Chalmers’s blasé attitude (“The way America’s public schools are sliding, they’ll all be this way in a few months. I say, lay back and enjoy it! It’s a hell of a toboggan ride.”)
– An absolutely lovely ending with the “Kick Me” and “Teach Me” signs, and one final “Oh, mercy” from Skinner.

(originally aired April 14, 1994)
Re-watching these old episodes has really ignited my love of Mr. Burns. He’s one of the show’s all-time greatest characters, so engaging and entertaining in pretty much every scene he’s in. I feel like I’m repeating myself, but regardless, some of the best Burns material comes from when we see a more human side to him, where the man with more money than God must face his own mortality. It was the subject of Marge’s famous painting, he sought happiness from his childhood with his bear Bobo, and now a near-death experience shocks Burns into pondering on his legacy when he’s gone. We see him as a withered old man who has ostracized nearly everybody, left to toil in his vast, empty mansion, but the question is, is he happy with this? Or does he long for something more? Both theories are tossed out in this very episode, and perhaps it’s a little of both. It’s nice that the show can allow you to theorize and not spoon-feed character emotions to you, or if they did, have the common decency to mock them.

The hefty weight of a sponge causes Burns to sink in the bathtub, causing his life to flash before his eyes, itself an incredible montage. I think the life of C. Montgomery Burns would make a fascinating mini-series, they should have done more stuff like this. Anyway, Burns sets up a casting call for the children of Springfield to try and find an heir, but no one wins him over, until a rejected Bart wreaks havoc upon his estate, exhibiting just the kind of feisty attitude Burns is looking for. The old man has the Simpson family sign the contracts, and then muses about spending his remaining years in solitude. This guilt trip leads Bart to make extended visits to Burns Manor, where he revels in the freedom to do as he pleases. We later find that Burns planned for the boy to live with him so he could mold him in his image to take his place after death. Despite this, I do like to think his cock-and-bull confession earlier had some nugget of truth in it. Burns seems to genuinely enjoy Bart’s company, basically admitting he’s the son he wishes he’d had. His motives are self-serving and his goal dastardly, but you still feel for the guy.

Bart’s role in the story is engaging too, as he finds he must choose between a life of no restrictions and anything his heart desires, and his loving, biological family. Burns pulls psychological tricks to make the boy stay, culminating in hiring stage actors to portray the family bad-mouthing him. Despite the comically poor performances, Bart is convinced, and his slow declaration of his allegiance to Burns is a little wrenching. The end, though, feels a little too much, with Bart being forced to fire Homer to curry Burns’s favor. I can’t pinpoint why exactly; perhaps it’s a bit too predictable way to get Bart back on his family’s side. But with all the great stuff leading up to it, and the hilarious denouement featuring Hans Moleman, it could have been the most contrived ending in the world and still the episode would be worth it.

Tidbits and Quotes
– Classic smash cut with Homer positing the rich must be suffering as much as he, then cut to Burns with top hat having a bath in his lush estate, and if that weren’t enough, eating a bad of “extra fancy” potato chips.
– Again, I’d love to see flashback episodes featuring Burns. I always thought that later day Simpsons could be made interesting again by focusing a fair amount of episodes on side characters, exploring more of their lives and own foibles. Instead, most of these characters became disposable, who’d show up for the sake of a joke and disappear. Ah well.
– Burns muses over never fathering an heir thanks to his hectic schedule and lethargic sperm. I like that even the complete Burns-sexual Smithers is disturbed at Burns’s plan that he will be buried alive with him.
– Wonderful THX movie parody, culminating in a man’s head exploding, and Grampa still not hearing it. The clip was later used by THX in theaters. Then comes Mr. Burns’s ad (“I’m looking for a suitable young male heir to leave my fortune to when I pass away. My vast, vast, vast fortune. Vast”) ending with him begrudgingly kicking off “Let’s All Go to the Lobby.”
– We get great moment with the kids of Springfield at the audition: Milhouse has nothing to offer Burns but his love (“I specifically said no geeks!”) Nelson threatens violence (which Burns likes), and later pummels a showtune-singing Martin (Burns also likes), and Lisa posits the idea Burns’s heir need not be a boy (“I don’t know what phallocentric means, but no girls!”)
– Great dream sequence by Marge of Bart graduating from Harvard (the most expensive, and therefore the best school.) Lee Majors randomly shows up to take Marge away, leaping into the air with bionic sound effects. Snapping back, Marge promises herself to stop dreaming about Lee Majors… after this next one. We hear the bionic sound again as she goes out of it.
– Astute fans will have noted that this blog’s title comes from this show, as Bart fumbles through the poorly written cue cards his father gave him (“Hello, Mr. Kurns. I bad want… money now. Me sick”), Homer comments, “Oooh, he card read good.” Also, great finale of Burns slowly activating the boot to kick Bart, his quiet satisfaction after doing it, and Homer’s uproarious response (“The boot kicked Bart! It kicked him right in the butt!”) And finally, some very important parental advice from Homer (“You tried your best, and you failed miserably. The lesson is: never try.”)
– Great bit from Krusty: being paid to deliver pizza to Bart, he admits he’s playing a rerun in place of a live show. Of course of all the years of tape, he picks the one where he abruptly stops the show after hearing the Falkland Islands have been invaded.
– I do enjoy Bart being a brat at the dinner table, and Homer’s ineffective means of stopping it (“Lisa, stop getting in the way of your wealthy brother’s peas.”) But he draws the line of feeding meatloaf to Santa’s Little Helper (“That was the end piece! That’s it, being abusive to your family is one thing, but I will not stand idly by and watch you feed a hungry dog!”)
– Homer drives to Burns Manor, running over Bart’s bike, to get back his son, and is incensed at Burns telling him to leave (“Or what? You’ll release the dogs, or the bees, or the dogs with bees in their mouths and when they bark they shoot bees at you? Well, go ahead, do your worst!”) At this point my brain automatically goes to the deleted scene from “The 138th Episode Spectacular” featuring the robotic Richard Simmons, but here, Burns just locks the door. Homer is dumbfounded.
– The animation of Bart’s wild joyride is fantastic; you can feel the motion and energy even from Bart’s POV of all the objects hitting his front windshield. Spectacular direction.
– Bart watches the phony Simpsons weakly reading their lines, but their cover is almost blown when fake Homer utters “B’oh!” I love the pacing that Burns slowly walks out of the room and into the covert set to yell at his actors. Also, it seems he’s hired Michael Caine to play Homer, who is very frustrating over the direction (“Sorry, M.B., but I’m having trouble with this character. Is he supposed to have some kind of neurological impairment, like Rain Man, or Awakenings? I mean, what the hell am I doing here?!”)
– I love Homer’s enthusiasm about kissing Moleman (“It’s like kissing a peanut!”) and the final line from Marge (“Homer, I want that thing out of my house.”)

(originally aired March 31, 1994)
There have been a handful of episodes this season that have showcased rather flimsy, meandering plot lines. However, laughter can excuse almost anything, and if the episode is funny enough, it usually gets a pass, and can become pretty memorable based on a particularly outstanding joke or two alone. “Bart Gets An Elephant” has probably the loosest premise of any episode so far, and isn’t really the funniest of this season, but damn I still loved it anyway. It’s also pretty memorable despite being so ridiculous; what super fan could forget about Stampy? Stupidity aside, this show does have its share of brilliant moments, and some nice character stuff with Bart, caring for his pet elephant and calling for it like Lassie. As dumb as this episode can get, there’s still an emotional core buried in there somewhere.

We open with an unrelated tangent of Marge forcing the family to do a little spring cleaning around the house. We get a few funny bits here, with Homer treasuring decades-old newspapers and TV Guides and Bart mindlessly erasing a Grant Wood original out of boredom. It also has a great final scene, where two seconds after the house is spotless, it becomes messy again, basically negating the four minutes we’ve just watched. The “plot” kicks in when Bart is the call-in winner for a KBBL radio contest, but rather than take the cash prize, he is adamant on receiving the gag gift: an African elephant. And in the end, that’s what Bart gets; act one ends with an elephant being left on the Simpson lawn. Never mind how those radio numbskulls got their hands on one. I like to think that they stole it from a zoo or an animal sanctuary. From this point, the show becomes a cross between “Lisa’s Pony” in the family must deal with the financial hardship of such an extravagant animal, and the beginning of “Bart’s Inner Child” where Homer starts a home-based racket charging people money to see and ride the elephant.

I hate that I brought up “Lisa’s Pony” just then, because this just isn’t that caliber of episode. Bart cares for Stampy, but nowhere near the wish fulfillment that Princess was to Lisa. But again, this episode is about the laughs. Homer is set on selling Stampy to an ivory dealer (who according to his logic is less likely to harm the elephant compared to someone whose ivory supplies are low). Bart intends to run away with his pet, but Stampy goes on a rampage and ends up missing. The Simpsons end up at the Springfield Tar Pits, and after the elephant saves him from sinking, Homer has a (begrudging) change of heart and gives the animal to a local wildlife preserve. By act three, everything felt very by-the-numbers, like of course Stampy was going to end up at the reserve, and was going to save Homer to get him to change his mind. But even with the pieced-together plot, there are still enough laughs and memorable moments to retain this one’s classic status. Kudos to you, Stampy.

Tidbits and Quotes
– A great line reading on Homer’s confused “D’oh?” when no one fights him on calling dibs to clean the basement. Seeing the horrendous shape the cellar is in, he sees why.
– Nice appearance by President Clinton, playing sax in the Little White Girls Blues Quartet. Moe drives by and yells at him to get back to work. An unbothered Clinton responds, “Make me!”
– I love how sloooow Homer is to process that Bart chooses the elephant over ten thousand dollars; when he finally gets it, he freaks out (“With $10,000, we’d be millionaires! We could buy all kinds of useful things like… love!”) Marge recommends double-ply windows, which no one else cares for. Lisa puts in her two cents regarding cruelty to animals, to which Homer shuts her down quick and tells her to go to her room.
– I don’t think this is the first time we’ve seen Bill and Marty, but it’s probably the longest we’ve ever seen them on screen, before or since this. They’re exposed as two chuckle head morons who have to make good with their boss or lose their job. Their attempt to win Bart over by using the money to bribe Skinner to spend a year with his pants at his ankles doesn’t work, so they up the ante by offering to surgically alter him into a bizarre lobster creature (Skinner is not on board: “Now, wait just a minute, that wasn’t discussed with me!”) The final straw is when their boss threatens them with their potential replacement: the DJ 3000, which can play records and dispense inane banter (Bill is impressed. Marty murmurs aside, “Don’t praise the machine.”)
– I like how reckless and destructive Stampy is; they didn’t pull any punches in making him a real animal, unable to comprehend anything that is said to him, at least up until the end. Kind of.
– A really cute bit with Homer noticing a bird perched on Stampy grooming him, then getting a bird of his own (“Mmmm… elephant fresh.”)
– Great running gag of Santa’s Little Helper and Snowball II desperately trying to impress the family, leading up to the dog actually speaking. That “Weee… looovee… yooouu” is the stuff of nightmares.
– More great thick-headed Homer: in the midst of discussing money woes, gawking kids come to the door offering to pay money to see the elephant (“For the ninth time, no!”) That gives him an idea: posting a “Go Away” sign on the lawn. Bart offers up his own sign, charging money to see and ride the elephant, to which Homer says, “I don’t have time to read it. Just give me the gist of it, son.”
– Classic first appearance by Cletus the slack-jawed yokel (“Hey, maw! Look at that pointy-hairded little girl!”)
– Absolutely timeless gag with Stampy marching through the Republican Convention (“We want what’s worst for everyone,” “We’re just plain evil”) and the Democratic Convention (“We hate life and ourselves,” “We can’t govern.”) It’s really not much far off now almost twenty years later.
– I like the pacing of Homer’s plan of escaping the tar pit (“I’m pretty sure I can struggle my way out. First I’ll just reach in and pull my legs out, now I’ll pull my arms out with my face.”) Stampy goes to save him, first pulling out Barney, who thanks the elephant by name somehow, then proceeds to light a cigarette and engulf himself in flames. Seeing how stringent this show is about continuity, I expect next episode to start with Barney’s funeral.

(originally aired March 17, 1994)
As I’ve noted before, Homer’s rampant animosity toward Ned Flanders is really out of jealousy; deep down, he wishes he could be as well-off, loving and together as the Flanders family. Because of this petty reasoning, it doesn’t seem too far off that Homer could come to really enjoy Ned’s company and forge a nice friendship if he wanted to… and that’s what happens in this episode. But when that happens, it’s almost like the fabric of the series starts to unravel. Homer befriending Flanders should not be, so it drives Ned, the calmest man in the universe, to hate, becoming increasingly more frustrated as the episode continues. Homer’s friendship is a lot more dangerous than his mild antagonism, it seems. The role-reversal between both characters feels very genuine, and the ending is one of the sweetest of the series, leaving us with a fun, wacky episode.

Homer’s after tickets for the biggest football game of the year, but his only option is to take up Ned’s offer to go with him. He’s hostile at first, but numerous kind gestures later, including getting the game ball, Homer is completely bowled over by his friendly neighbor-eeno. This is your classic about-face from Homer: he’s a man of impulse, and whatever feeling he has, he goes with it in full force. Now he’s Ned’s best friend in the whole world, and he wants everyone to know it: his family, co-worker, the barflies, strangers, everybody. At first, Ned is pleased by Homer’s change-of-heart. But then again, he’s pleased by his irrational hatred of him as well. It’s never quite clear if he even registers Homer’s assholery, I’m still not sure whether he’s just oblivious or very forgiving. But either way, Ned grows uncomfortable that Homer wedges his way into his life, bothering him while volunteering at the homeless shelter (then usurping the credit), and later, a Simpson-Flanders family picnic goes horribly, horribly wrong. Ned wakes in a cold sweat with a shocking revelation: he’s developed a strange new emotion: hatred… for Homer Simpson.

The third act is all about Ned’s downward spiral, trying to avoid Homer at all costs. However, there are some costs, like using little white lies in front of his kids, which they don’t care for (“Lies make baby Jesus cry.”) Following an amazing chase sequence out of Terminator 2 with Homer as a wall-eyed T-1000, Ned is pulled over for speeding and given a sobriety test, and then of course the gossipy church bus group passes by. This series is great at these emotional turns where they just pile stuff on the characters to speed up whatever they’re supposed to be feeling. Now Ned is ostracized from the entire church (save Homer, of course) as Lovejoy is about to give his opening sermon, “What Ned Did.” One final irritant from Homer sets Ned off (“Can’t you see this man isn’t a hero, he’s annoying! He’s very very annoying!!”) But Homer comes to Ned’s defense with a heartfelt, passionate, true-to-character speech, one of the best monologues of the series, which calms down the mob and wins back Ned’s friendship. And then of course one week later, things are back to normal. That’s the way things are with the status quo.

Tidbits and Quotes
– Homer’s quest for tickets to the game is littered with great bits: the TV warning about tickets not being taken internally (“See? Because of me, now they have a warning,”) Bart selling his father bogus tickets for fifty bucks (I love his slow turn to anger as he reads off the entire coupon, then snap back to the very disturbing dream of Homer imagining himself imitating his wife with a Marge wig), the scalper buying every single ticket with only a $10 deposit, and Homer’s lamentation about Ned winning the radio contest’s tickets courtesy of Eddie Money’s “Two Tickets to Paradise.”
– I love Lisa’s summarizing of the never-ending rivalry between Springfield and Shelbyville (“They built a mini-mall, so we built a bigger mini-mall. They made the world’s largest pizza, so we burnt down their city hall.”)
– For the change-of-heart to truly work, Homer is ramped up high here with his hatred of Flanders, first apparently going to smack him unconscious with a lead pipe, then later making him duck down whilst driving so he wouldn’t be seen with Homer by Lenny and Carl (“Look, Homer’s got one of those robot cars!”) The car proceeds to crash off-screen, and Carl adds on, “One of those American robot cars.”
– I love that Burns, who of course owns the Springfield Atoms, was vindictive enough to cripple Milhouse to properly motivate his team to win (“I hope they win, or Mr. Burns said he’s coming back.”)
– Classic bit with Homer’s nacho hat, with him singing an alternate version of “Macho Man.”
– Great bit with footballer Stan “The Boy” Taylor talking about how Ned saved him (“I used to party all night and sleep with lingerie models until Ned and his bible group showed me that I could have more.”) Homer muses, “Professional athletes, always wantin’ more.” I also like his cooing over the game ball (“Now I have four children. You will be called ‘Stitchface.'”) And of course, fantastic act break joke when Homer drives by Lenny and Carl again, this time proudly announcing his friendship with Ned (“What did he say?” “I dunno, something about being gay.”)
– The religious talking animal cartoon teaching about envy is hilarious. Todd is not as won over (“It’s all well and good for sheep, but what are we to do?”)
– Ned gives a great pre-meal prayer (“Bless the grocer for this wonderful meat, the middlemen who jacked up the price, and let’s not forget the humane but determined boys over at the slaughterhouse.”) I also love Homer’s dainty bites as he picks apart Ned’s turkey.
– Classic bit with the Rappin’ Ronnie Reagan tape (“You know something? He did say ‘well’ a lot!”)
– The family picnic has a lot of great bits too, but my favorite is probably Bart being a drug pusher on Rod and Todd with pixie sticks, which the boys go mad over. One part that irks me a bit is Marge and Lisa contributing to the food fight. I get the parallel they were making, but it didn’t seem to fit. I also love Ned’s excuse for leaving, “Todd’s got Zesty Italian in his eye.”
– Ned’s dream is wonderfully animated, and pretty damn chilling. I almost wish they didn’t dampen with the tone with the comical crazy postman.
– Homer appearing and disappearing through the hedge is another great bit of animation, as well as the chase, as I’ve mentioned.
– I love Wiggum playing up Ned’s altered state for the passing church bus as he arrests him (“High as a kite, everybody! Goofballs!”)
– The final straw that sets Ned off is genius: it’s so minor, but just a microcosm of Homer’s annoyance. During a silent prayer, Homer breathes through his nose, which makes an increasingly noisy whistling noise, but I think the volume of it raising is all in Ned’s head, chipping away at him until he finally cracks.
– Homer’s speech defending Ned is beautiful, so I will just reprint it in full (“How dare you talk about Ned Flanders like that. He’s a wonderful, kind, caring man… maybe even more so than me. There have been times when I lost patience with him, even lashed out at him, but this man has turned every cheek on his body. If everyone here were like Ned Flanders, there’d be no need for heaven: we’d already be there.”) I also love after Lovejoy admits they were wrong, Lenny shouts out, “Hey, that guy’s right!” Referring to the Reverend as “that guy” seems very Lenny. Don’t know how much sense that makes.