The Simpsons – S33E07 – A Serious Flanders: Part 2 | Transcript

Things go from bad to worse for Homer and Ned.
The Simpsons - S33E07 - A Serious Flanders: Part 2

Original air date: November 14, 2021

* * *

(“The Simpsons Theme” plays briefly)

(menu selection sound popping)

(indistinct chatter)

This just in…

Chief, I think that madman who shot up the Lard Lad knows where Homer is.

Look, he dropped this on his way out.

Have you been crying?

It’s just so horrible.

Mr. Burns? The Disco Guy?

Fat Tony?

Look what they did to my beautiful goombah.


I can’t ever eat a donut again.

Chief, pull yourself together.

My husband is still missing.

And I hate to say it, but I think Ned Flanders has something to do with this.

Open your eyes, Marge.

If Homer’s mixed up in this, he’s probably a cruller by now.

Satan himself has come to this town, and I’m not man enough to take him on.

If you see Lou, tell him Eddie’s chief now.


The killer’s driving the Rich Texan’s car.


(typing on keyboard)

BROCKMAN: (over TV) Police describe the mysterious assailant as a grim metaphor for a universe without justice.

That’s the may-diddly-aniac who’s got Homer.

How am I gonna come up with that ransom?

I can’t do a GoFundMe for a kidnapping.

There’s too many of those already.

Oh, Granddad, I donated that money to the orphans in honor of your decency, but… now I need it back.

How’d all that cash get in that tree anyway?

I want my haircut to look just as square as yours, Paw Paw.


Careful there, barber.

I wouldn’t want you to nick the neck of the town’s favorite sheriff.

(all laugh)

The Szyslak brothers.

Hey, hey, we don’t want no trouble, fellas.

Someone call the zoo, the ape house is missing its ugliest baboons.

You got no call pointing out our ugliness.

That’s why it’s time you got what’s coming to you.

Cy, take the boy outside.

(lock clicks)

You got something for me? Let me have it.

Ah, my favorite time of day, bribe o’clock.

Ooh, and thicker than usual.

That’s what I came to tell you.

We made a deal with the Capital City Mob.

We’re slinging amphetamines now.

That’s right, “Brain fizz.”

“Trucker’s milk.”

“Texas Teeth looseners.”

Long as I get my cut, I don’t care if you sell rat crap and call them Milk Duds.

Now, Slocum, I’ve got a sterling reputation to uphold.

You mind if I punch one of your brothers through this plate glass window?

Nah, take your pick.

(screams, grunts)

Paw Paw, you’re the finest man I’ll ever know.

Yes, I am, Neddy.

♪They call me Good Time Charlie ♪

♪Playboy with a whole lot of soul ♪

♪I said, they call me Good Time Charlie ♪

♪Playboy with a whole lot of soul ♪

♪I’m the last of the big-time spenders ♪

♪I keep a pocket full of gold ♪

♪Whoa! Put on your red dress, baby. ♪

Enough sucking on that toad, Sheriff.


Time to earn your keep.

Gentlemen, your primo crank is selling like meth on speed.

Just give it to our numbers guy.

One hundred seventy-three thousand, two hundred and…

(sniffs) …ninety-six dollars.

Yeah, that’s even more money back now in the early ’70s.

Which made me wonder, why should we share?

(snaps fingers)

(weapons click)

Uh… uh…

(snaps fingers)

(weapons clicking)

Oh, God, all right, fellas, why don’t we all relax and put down our crazy assortment of weapons?

I’m talking to you, Mr. Dynamite Nunchucks.

The tiniest little thing could turn this standoff into a bloodbath.

Oh, shoot.




Dear Lord, you know me, I’m a good time Charlie, but if you see fit to save my hide, I promise to become the kind of man my grandson can be proud of.

(gunfire ceases)


(angelic music plays)

My whole family, they’re dead.

I don’t got to share this with no one.


(body thuds)

Sorry, God, but hey, you can only send me to Hell once.

(sirens wailing)

Hmm? Hmm.


Fellas, Sheriff Flanders here.


The money, where is it?

Okay, hey, okay. (laughs nervously)

Easy, friend.

It’s all yours, I promise.

Just don’t-(grunts)


(grunts) Ah…

Oh, come on.

So frustrating.

Well, there goes my life.

(sirens wailing)

(tires screeching)

Oh, Paw Paw, I’ve lived my whole life trying to be as fine a man as you, but Homer Simpson’s gonna die unless I do the unthinkable: steal back the money I gave to these orphans.

We love you, Mr. Flanders!


(“Sabor A Mi” by Los Panchos playing)

Oh, Colette.

There appears to be a trail of rose petals leading to the master bath.

I wonder who could’ve left them there?

(speaking French)

Oh, come now. You’re still cross?

For the last time, we can’t just turn down jobs because it’s our anniversary.

Wait, you international psychos are married?

That’s none of your concern, you shorn sheep.


Tell him, how many year?

How many year?

Ten years of wedded bliss.

Each year sweeter than the last.

(speaking French)

Not one vacation.

We don’t get to take vacations if we don’t take jobs.

It’s called math, darling.

Hm, wow, if I said something that sexist, my wife would be furious.

You see? Even the dead man knows.

Look, the best marriage advice I ever got was, “If you’re thinking it, just say it.”

Really? Then I should tell her that every day she becomes more and more like her mother. (grunts)

My mother was twice the assassin you will ever be.

What did Dr. Pam say about acting on anger?

You tell her, Irish guy.

Go for the eyes, Frenchie.

Whoever wins was right all along.


(glass shatters)

(grunts) Hey!

(grunts) Oh!


Uh, guys? There’s a little fire situation in the kitchen here.

Okay, you’re communicating honestly, which is great.

What say we focus on achievable goals as a couple, like putting out this fire?




Never go to bed angry?

Cuddling doesn’t always lead to sex?

You’re not just married killers, you’re homicidal best friends.

Happy anniversary?

(sighs, speaks French)

Ah, you’re a corker, my violent femme.

(both moaning)

♪ ♪

Aw, I knew you crazy kids could make it work.

Now, we should probably get out of here before the–

You guys okay?


(groans) The key to this safe has to be here somewhere.


What in the blue heck are you doing here?

Last I saw, you were judging my God-given right to an open marriage.

Uh, Barb, I’m in serious trouble. (chuckles)

The thing is, uh…

Fish or get off the hole, Mr. Flanders.

I haven’t been able to get that spiffy bod of yours out of my dang-diddly mind.

Jumpin’ jiminy.

(both moaning)

FLANDERS: You can do this, Neddy.

Just think about Homer Simpson.

Oh, Homie. I thought I’d lost you.


Oh, Marge, I’m so sorry.

I’ll never be selfish again.

Whew! Wasn’t that a brisk walk around Lake How-do-ya-do?

I’m gonna get a Faygo from the mini fridge.

Do you want one?

Uh, grape, if they have it.

(gasps) That gosh darn thief.


I got away with it.

I got away with…

(glass shatters)


(tires screeching)

I’m sorry, God.

I-I just want Homer Simpson to be okay.

Oh, there he is.

(cars crash)

Ned. Buddy. Let’s get you out of there.

(Fargo -style drums playing)

Ow! (grunting)

Oh, I saved you.

You’re finally mine.


I’m married to the most selfish man in the world.

BARB: Everybody, all around, look at this man.


He saved the orphans’ money and the flag.

Look at the burns on his saintly arm.

Oh, this husky gent is an American hero.

(crowd cheering)

Not like that snake, Ned Flanders.

Why, he stole this money after trying to seduce me out of my happily-closed marriage to Sideshow Mel.

(crowd gasps)

Oh, uh…

That monster!

Where is he, so that I might thrash him?

He’s right over… (gasps)


(cell phone rings)

COSTAS: (over phone) Hello, church chum.

I, um… I don’t have your money.

And I don’t have your man.

Funny how things work out.

I committed every sin in the book to get that money–

except sloth, I guess-and now it’s gone.

Money can be lost, Mr. Flanders, but a debt never goes away.

I am coming to collect.

When you least expect it, expect it.

You mean now?

No, not now.

Well, you saying not now makes me expect it more.

Look, this is the one time you shouldn’t expect it, but every other time, do expect it.

NARRATOR: Three years ago, Homer Simpson risked his life to save an orphanage’s future.

And now, I’m here to save your car’s future.

Oil changes, alignment, and brake pads, brake pads, brake pads.

All at Heroic Lube and Tire.

Where Route 4 meets Disco Stu Memorial Drive.

Just look for the inflatable me.

Mr. Simpson, may I just say it is an honor to get my washer fluid from you.

Yo, can I get a selfie with that gnarly arm?

What’s it like to be married to the most beloved man in Springfield?

Every day’s better than the last.

Now come back soon ’cause you’ll always get a hero’s welcome.


OTTO: I get it.

“Hero.” The word makes me sick to my stomach.

I’ll never forget seeing you choose the money instead of saving Ned. Never.

I wish I could explain, but I can’t.

I would’ve left this godforsaken marriage years ago if it wasn’t for the kids–

My special little guy!

There he is.

Check it out.

I got my Online Citizenship badge for being so polite on social media.

You’re going to be the youngest Eagle Scout in town.

Well, I am half hero.

I got 100 RSVPs to my birthday party.


They probably just want to come to meet you.

Got some mail, Dad.

Why’d you get a blank postcard from Wyoming?

Hm, that’s weird.

Probably just junk.

(“Las Vegas Tango” by Gary Burton playing)


(gun cocks)

Don’t shoot, you little weirdos.

Daddy, it’s Mr. Simpson.

Hiddly-ho, neighborino.

So, how are things in good old Springfield?

Uh… it’s okay.

Jailbird got super religious.

(crying) And Marge hates me.

Our marriage is deader than Disco Stu.

All because I tried to save that money’s life and not yours.

That money made sinners of us all.

Can I tell you something, Homer?

I wanted people to know I donated it.

I wanted the attention.

I brought all of this upon us.

We both suck.



(glass shatters)

Oh, no. He’s tracked you here.

No way. I took all the precautions, even the mariachi Ferris wheel.

(banging on door)


What is it, Homer?

A mistress? A secret family?

You’d better not be a sports podcaster.

(gasps) Ned?

Don’t be too sore at this fella, Marge.

Homer’s been our lifeline up here: food, shelter, books he thinks I’d like.

They certainly were a motley crew.

This is the most selfless thing you’ve ever done, and you didn’t even tell anyone.

I couldn’t say anything, or Ned would be in danger.

There’s this crazy psycho who wants to kill him, and–

Hey, you weren’t followed here, were you?


(all scream)

Great, more walking.

Homie, if we don’t make it, I need you to know that you are a decent man, and I love you.

No. I won’t put you two in any more danger.

I’m the one he wants.

Okay. Bye.

Phew. Good luck.

(dramatic music playing)

It’s been a long time, Mr. Flanders.

Now, will you be paying your debt in money or blood?


Blood it is.

Ah, balance.

Balance? Is that what this blood-soaked rigmarole has been all about? Why?

You ever hear the parable of Lucifer and the millipede?

One day, a tiny…

The end.

Oh, just kill me already.

I deserve it for stealing, seducing, fibbing.

I tarnished the good name of my Paw Paw, Sherriff Ned Flanders.


Your grandfather was dirtier than a hobo’s handkerchief.

Why, he even killed a man in cold blood for that money.


He was nothing but a good time Charlie.

I’ll kill you!



(ice cracking)

(water continues splashing)

(dramatic music playing)

♪ ♪


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