Original air date: October 3, 2021
Grampa is tricked by a phone scammer into believing that he needs to bail Bart out of jail, costing him $10,000. When Homer learns that that money was intended to be his inheritance, he blames Grampa for falling for a stupid trick, while Bart and Lisa try to track the scammer down and Marge begins to think that everything in life is a con.
* * *
We sure lucked out with this new gig. Half day on Christmas, unpaid polio leave, and all the bread crumbs you can sweep.
Mac, we just got our first paychecks. Take this money and turn it into giggle water.
(stammers) FICA?! What the hell is that?
Eh, that’s your Social Security tax. Government takes our money, then gives it back when you retire in 50 years.
What? Stupid government thinks it’s smarter than me. I can handle my money. Put five bucks on any two animals fighting. And I’ll eat the loser.
We’re not gonna need Social Security. We’re gonna be rich.
Yeah, we’ll never need government help.
Help me, government!
We need our Social Security checks.
Make rain a modest, fixed amount.
♪ Here comes the money ♪
♪ Here we go ♪
♪ Money talks ♪
♪ Here comes the money ♪
♪ Money, money, money, money, money, money, money ♪
♪ Money, money ♪
♪ Dolla, dolla ♪
♪ Dolla, dolla ♪
♪ Ching, ching ♪
♪ Bling, bling, cut the chatter ♪
♪ You ain’t talking money ♪
♪ Then your talking don’t matter ♪
♪ Ching, ching, bling, bling, pattin’ pockets ♪
♪ You make the dolla dolla, can’t a damn soul stop it ♪
♪ Shock it ♪
♪ Here comes ♪
♪ The new kid on the block ♪
♪ Hold all your bets here’s where. ♪
GRAMPA: Hmm. Hmm.
Now, this is what I call cribbage.
Abe wins again!
Another great day in the books. Now to cap it all off with a medicated foot bath and a nice, deep-ear Q-tipping.
BOY: Grandfather! You’ve got to help me!
What? Is that you, Bart?
That’s right. It’s me, Bart. I’m so scared. I’m in jail!
Please don’t tell my dad or mom. They’ll be so mad. The policeman needs to talk to you.
MAN: Sir, your grandson is in big trouble.
No, not Bart. My little angel.
Well, he was arrested for vandalism and shoplifting, sir.
Yeah, that sounds like Bart, that little devil.
If you don’t send his bail money in the next 90 minutes, he’s going straight to the downtown juvenile detention center.
BOY: Grandfather! Help me! Please!
Don’t worry, Bart. Just tell me what you need and I’ll do it. Your Grampa loves you.
I need to wire some money to an overseas account to bail my grandson out of an unnamed jail.
Fill out this form.
I didn’t know my little Emma was in Colombia, let alone working as a drug mule.
I’m just thankful the Russian secret police will accept the title to my Lexus.
MAN: Mr. Simpson, we’ve confirmed receipt. Your grandson will be released…
Oh, thank God.
…once you pay his processing fees, holding cell costs and handcuff tax.
It’s on its way, plus a little extra for you being so helpful.
Did he reach out to his father? His mother? His dead grandmother?
No. He came to me. Because Bart knew that he could count on his Grampa to get him out of any kind of jam.
Mm. Oh, thank goodness you’re out!
Okay, okay, enough with the smooches.
I don’t care what you’ve done. All that matters is that no grandson of mine’s gonna go to jail.
Jail? Are you off your meds or on new meds?
Bart, don’t you remember? I just wired all that money to pay your bail.
Whoa, Grampa, I think you were… scammed.
Me, scammed? (laughs) That’s impossible. No one hornswoggles Abraham J… S-I-M-P-S-O-N. Social Security number: 327-00-3658. First pet’s name: Homer.
(gasps) I’ve been hornswoggled.
ANNOUNCER: You’re watching the Punt Zone channel. It’s nothing but punts. Never miss another exciting fair catch or thrilling second of hang time. It’s fourth and long, here’s the snap. It’s a fake punt! Cut away! Cut away!
Guys, something happened to Grampa.
I got bamboozled out of my money by a flimflam artist.
It’s not his fault. Some scammer convinced him I was in jail.
I’m so sorry, Grampa. Um, uh, let me go microwave your slippers.
I don’t deserve warm toes. I’m nothing but a feeble, useless, old idjit.
No. You were just trying to be a good grandparent. And one bad apple took advantage of you.
You got nothing to feel bad about. (laughs) Bart in jail? I would have fallen for that, too. I mean, how much money could they have taken from a retired, old meatball man– 50 bucks plus a pocketful of hard candies? Here you go, Dad. I’ll cover it. What’s the damage?
Ten thousand dollars!
Where the hell did you get that kind of money, you broken-down old meatball man?
It’s 20 years of my cribbage winnings, saved up in a cigar box. I was gonna leave it to you, and now it’s all gone.
No. No. No! I had an inheritance and you gave it away? I’m so mad I could kill you, but now I’d get nothing. I hope you live forever!
Now to read Abraham J. Simpson’s final will and testament.
To my surviving Homers, I leave you $10,000 that I never told you about…
…but then I lost it all to a scam. So, because I’m a moron, I leave you nothing.
Ten thousand dollars!
(exhales) That dream again?
The money’s gone, gone.
But how can you miss money you never knew you had?
That’s the worst part: to find out got money, but you lost money, so you have it, but you don’t have it. Oh, it’s giving me whipcash.
Just think of all the ways my life could have been better with that ten grand.
So, uh, we’re asking each family to chip in $50 for a new fundraising thermometer.
Oh, yeah, 50 bucks– I would totally donate that if my father hadn’t given away $10,000!
Um, it’s just a suggested amount.
Sure, ten grand might not sound like much to you teachers, but I choose inheriting $10,000 over earning a million. And all of you would do the same!
Homer, not here.
Because generational wealth is the purest, most sacred kind of money there is. But my father fell for some super-obvious scam because his brain is made of powdered mashed potatoes. So, no, I will not be donating. (huffs)
Marge, if I may, I-I dealt with a similar situation with my mother. She got a phone call claiming punk rockers were threatening to cut my hair into a Mohawk, which is a distinctive hairstyle…
I know what it is.
This place got us through it.
Hmm. This could be just what we need.
Oh, uh, sorry, that’s not for you to keep. I don’t get many business cards.
Group therapy? In my day, we dealt with horrible shame by getting blind drunk, stumbling into a hobo camp and fighting their king. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t.
Just give it a try, Abe. It’ll help to know that you’re not alone.
(chuckles) Nice, Marge. Making Dad sit through a pathetic sob-fest with his fellow losers is the perfect punishment.
There’s a group for you, too.
I… (grunts) wish I never voted to build this community center.
(sighs) I should have known mortgage lenders don’t take Applebee’s gift cards.
He said if I didn’t wire the money to the power company, they’d shut off my electricity. I am the power company.
Catfished. Ooh! Now it seems so obvious that I would never meet the real Melissa Joan Hart in a online billiards forum.
These criminals target the good in all of us, so the first step is to take a deep breath and forgive ourselves.
(all inhale, exhale)
My mother paid hackers to return her stolen computer photos.
(groans) They weren’t gone. They were backed up to the cloud, Dropbox, Time Machine– things of that nature.
Now, these are the things you should never say to a victim. “I would never have fallen for that,” “Everyone knows about that scam,” and “What were you thinking?”
I would have never fallen for that! Everyone knows about that scam! What were you thinking?!
No, it wasn’t my fault. This group taught me not to feel shame. I’m on a path of healing and self-empowerment.
You better not be.
Now, what do we say to shamers like him?
ALL: Shaming is blaming.
Yes, 100% agree! (grunts)
How could you treat Grampa like that? You think you’re so smart. Do you really think the same thing wouldn’t have happened to you?
Me? Impossible. I’m too savvy. This savvy! See?
Dad, anyone can get scammed. Even me. I paid the bullies for wedgie insurance. But the minute I got a wedgie, bam! I got hit with a deductible– another wedgie! And my rates went up.
That’s why I never get any insurance.
I got an email saying I qualified for the Saxophone Junior Olympics, but when I clicked the link, they hacked my phone and stole my Audible listener credits.
(laughs) You clicked the link? (laughing) That’s so… Who clicks the link?
Even children are being scammed? Well, maybe there’s a few more bad apples than I thought. But I still have to believe the barrel is mostly good.
Oh, Marge, how I envy your sweet innocence. The world is a blender full of sharks set on extra teeth. So you got to be like me– always on guard so you’re never a sucker.
Delivery for Homer Simpson.
Why’d you buy all these knives?
They’re not knives. They’re the future of cutlery. Put ’em in the garage with the others.
Cutlife is a famous multi-level marketing company. Dad, you fell for a pyramid scheme.
Scheme? No way. They didn’t even want to let me join. But, luckily, at the last minute, a space opened up.
How many knives have you even sold?
(laughs) I don’t sell them. I engage opportunity handlers to distributize them for me, the expandibution manager. It’s all part of Charles E. Cutlife’s three-dimensional triangle system.
BART: Why can’t Dad ever get arrested in a suit?
Face it, genius: you got scammed.
(sobs) She’s right. Everyone’s right. Don’t look at my gullible face! (sobs)
And so I consign to the flames a monument to my own stupidity.
Now, isn’t there someone you need to apologize to? Maybe your father?
Yeah, you’re right. I said such horrible things to him.
All that time I was yelling at you, it turns out I’m a sucker, too. Will you forgive me, Dad?
Of course, son. Hopefully, we’ve all come out of this a little more savvy.
Hello? Yes, this is a grandparent of a boy or girl. Sure, put him or her on the phone.
No! Lisa’s in jail!
Grampa, they’re trying to trick you again.
(gasps) It’s the same swindler. He must think I’m greedy for more.
(gasps) I got an idea. Grampa, you got to keep talking so that guy stays on the phone.
Keep talking? I’ve been preparing for this moment my entire life.
MAN: Sir, look, if you don’t put up that bail money, your granddaughter will be spending the night in the cooler.
In my day, we didn’t have fancy coolers, so everyone took turns blowing on the meat to keep it fresh, unless you hired a Dutch family to blow on your food for you. Breezies is what you’d call ’em.
(high-pitched gibberish plays, stops)
MAN: Sir, if you could just give us your bank information…
GRAMPA: It was quite the scandal when a breezy married a smusher– those were the fellas you hired to flatten your sandwiches by sitting on ’em– and the whole town came out to throw tar…
Wow, that’s some quality prattle.
Okay, I’ve run all three hours of the call through open-source audio software, and the unique pattern of church bells and roller-coaster screams pins the location to…
…ladies and gentlemen, the address of the scammer.
Whoa, we could get the money back.
It’s not about the money. I want to show that bad guy the face of the old man whose love and decency he exploited.
Oh, honey, you have a beautiful heart. But make no mistake– it is about the money!
Kids, today you’re gonna learn an important lesson: sometimes the sheep get back their wool.
(scoffs) No, they don’t. They just grow more wool.
What are you, a shepherd? Come on, Dad. Let’s go get my eventual money back.
How are we gonna get past the guard?
Aw, don’t worry about that. My friends can get us in.
That’s the surgical precision you only get from the finest Idaho steel.
Amazing. I’ll take the full set.
Oh, you’re not buying the knives.
I could sell them?
No, you can sell other people on selling them. These knives sell selling themselves themselves.
This is the opportunity of a lifetime! I’m gonna go tell my pregnant wife about my new career.
Okay, Grampa, we’re gonna find that bad guy and get you some justice.
(low overlapping chatter)
Uh, which one’s the scammer?
They’re all the scammer.
The IRS tax police are on their way to your home, but we’ll accept immediate payment in Fortnite V-bucks.
Oh, your Airbnb is all ready to go, there. I’m fluffing the towels right now. Fluff, fluff.
There’s so many of them.
(clears throat) You are all in an unethical industry and we have called the authorities.
(panting) Oh, man. Another boiler room of phone hucksters. All right, scambags, you know the drill: you don’t got to go home, but you can’t grift here.
Aren’t you going to arrest them?
Marge, you shut down one of these, five more pop up in its place.
Phone fraud and Halloween costumes for pets are America’s only growth industries.
So they’re just employees doing this for a paycheck?
I wish we got paid in money. All we get is minimum wage and gift cards.
Do you have my dad’s money?
Do you have my money?
Can I have $10,000?
BART’S VOICE: Not gonna happen, dude.
Hey, you sound familiar.
Don’t have a cow, man.
Is this what we wanted to happen?
Okay, I know this seems bad, but… but, uh… Oh, come on, Mom, you always see the good in everything.
Well, on the bright side, if you look at it a certain way… there is no bright side! The whole world is one big criminal organization! From hedge funds to payday loans to the NCAA, it’s not just a few bad apples– it’s the whole orchard that’s rotten!
Whoa, gift cards!
Justice wasn’t served, but dinner is.
(groans) I can’t believe we ate $500 worth of appetizers.
Revenge sliders dipped in payback sauce. Mmm.
Honey, you’re not sweating from overeating. What’s wrong?
These gift cards were obtained by scamming innocent people. So no, thank you.
You said it yourself– everyone in the world is ripping off everyone else. Why shouldn’t we wet our beaks?
Oh, you got to try these fried beaks.
Dip the beak! Dip the beak!
Well, it seems like no one else has a problem gorging on ill-gotten appetizers. Beak me.
With that deep-fried morsel, my victory is complete.
Uh, we’re all seeing the freak in the sandals, right? (burps)
Yes, but this can’t be real. We probably just ate too many wasabi mac and cheese balls.
Silence, you mewling wretches, for I am Loki, god of mischief. But I am known by many names and take many forms.
Buy crypto, suckers!
And my handiwork of deception is woven into the fabric of the universe. From the Ticketmaster convenience fee to the NCAA.
Oh, lord of appetizers, I kneel before you. Who shall I smother with ranch in your name?
Well, Loki, you’ve already taken an old man’s life savings. What more do you want?
I have come here to… ‘Zerz… to take my prize: an honest woman’s belief in the good of mankind. And now, as the old laws demand, I must bestow upon the vanquished a kiss. Mwah. Ha-ha! There are no old laws. God of mischief does it again! Now, off to add more blackout dates to Disneyland annual passes.
Whoa, that was weird. Should we get the rest to go?
Excuse me, I’m out of gas and left my wallet at home. Would you lend me $20? I’ll mail it back to you, I promise.
Uh, I’m sorry, but that is an obvious scam. Uh, go find another sucker.
Is this it– from now on, I live in a world where nobody trusts anybody? No, not me.
Here’s $20 and my address. I trust that you’ll mail me the money.
(gasps) I knew it!
Maybe you’re right, baby. There still are some good people out there.
In your face, god of scams!
Well, I’m out another 20 bucks, but I gave them something to believe in. (laughs) Suckers.
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