Episode "6G02"

Carrie (Not Affiliated with the Movie "Carrie")

Part Two


By Ondre Lombard

BLACKBOARD : I will not shake it till they can't take it.  I will not shake/
COUCH SCENE : The family, dressed in kimonos, walk in a circle, each
              slightly bent forward, their sleeves meeting together.  They
              face the TV, bow and then sit at the couch.



BART, LISA and MAGGIE sit on the couch, watching TV.  MAGGIE periodically
sucks on her pacifier.

  BOY #1: [on television] Hartman, you are such a short sh**, that when
          people look at you on the street, they go, holy crap, that's a
          damn short sh**.
  BOY #2: [on television] AY!  I'll kick you in the nnnnads!
  BOY #3: [on television] Wait you guys.  If you're bad, Mr. Poopy won't
          give you any treats for Christmas.
  BOY #2: [on television] Your Mom's a lazy, bitchy Jew!
  LISA: How did this end up on TV so early in the day?
  BART: This show is so stupid.  These freaky kids watch a show about
        two guys who pass gas at each other all the time.  Who would watch
        such graphic, one-joke characters?
  LISA: Bart, we're missing Itchy & Scratchy.
  BART: [panicked] Ooh!  Ooh!  Why didn't you tell me sooner?
  BOY #1: [on television] Oh my Lord!  You killed Benny!  You assho--

BART changes the channel on the remote.  The I&S theme plays.

  LISA: Bart, do you know about that new Shelley Greenburg girl?
  BART: The spoiled brat who acts like she owns the school and tells
        everyone what to do all the time?
  LISA: Yeah.
  BART: [blissfully] I think I'm in love.
  LISA: She makes my life miserable!  And I don't know what to do because
        she won't stop.  And now that I like Scott, I think she wants to
        take him just because I like him.  I mean, who does she think she

Brief pause.

  BART: [ignoring her] You ever tease the cat while it's using the litter


LISA is sitting down, playing a bluesy tune on her saxaphone someplace on
the yard.  SHELLEY approaches her.

  SHELLEY: [smugly] Hello, Lisa.
  LISA: [curtly] Shelley.
  SHELLEY: I didn't think a lady played such a bulky instrument.
  LISA: [looks annoyed] This is how I express myself, Shelley.  What do you
  SHELLEY: I just wanted to tell you that I'm going to be the smartest
           student in the whole school.  I may even be skipped ahead a
  LISA: I see.
  SHELLEY: I got two A++s on my last report card, and my father is going
           to give me twenty dollars for every good grade.  What do you
           get for being so smart?
  LISA: The satisfaction of a good job done, Shelley.  Which obviously you
        don't seem to understand.
  SHELLEY: Satisfaction.  That's just how parents stiff you out of a wad
           of cash.
  LISA: Learning is more important, Shelley.  Even eggs get grades.
  SHELLEY: What is that supposed to mean?
  LISA: Figure it out and earn yourself another twenty dollars.

LISA gets up and walks away annoyedly with her saxaphone.

  SHELLEY: [indignant] How dare you!

LISA approaches SCOTT, who is playing marbles flat on his front on the

  LISA: Hiya, Scott!

SCOTT suddenly looks up at LISA, holding the saxaphone which appears
enormous, and flenches.

  LISA: Scott, what's the matter??
  SCOTT: [regrouping] Oh.  I'm sorry, Lisa.
  LISA: Did I do something?
  SCOTT: [concerned] No, no.  Forget it.  Say, uh, how are you feeling?
  LISA: I'm great.  Listen, I heard from a few other kids that you're
        having a birthday party in a week or so.
  SCOTT: And?
  LISA: Um. . . well. . . could I come?  And, um. . . [sheepish] Be kind
        of your best girl?
  SCOTT: No!  I mean, yes!  I mean. . . uh, I don't think that'd be good
         for all concerned.
  LISA: I-I don't understand. . . I thought we were getting along so well.
  SCOTT: [apprehensively] I have to go now.  Please, understand.  I think
         you're wonderful, but, I. . . well, I just can't explain it.  Bye

SCOTT runs off.  LISA stares at SCOTT forlornly and she sinks to her
knees, putting her hands on her face in utter humiliation.  SHELLEY walks
behind her with her hands behind her back.

  SHELLEY: Aw, I'm so sorry, Lisa.  Really.
  LISA: Go away.  I don't need this right now.
  SHELLEY: Do you mind if I ask what happened?  I promise I won't do
           anything mean.  Cross my heart.
  LISA: I don't know.  Scott is avoiding me, and I get this feeling he
        thinks something's wrong with me.
  SHELLEY: Maybe that's 'cause somehow he must've heard from the other
           kids that something is wrong with you.
  LISA: Huh?
  SHELLEY: Well, there's a rumor going around that you have a serious
           psychological problem.  Imagine that.
  LISA: People think I'm a nerd, but I've never noticed anyone thinking
  SHELLEY: Well, apparently, they do now.

LISA looks behind herself at SHELLEY after a brief pause.

  LISA: You said this.  Didn't you?
  SHELLEY: [insincere] Now why would I do a thing like that?
  LISA: Just because he likes me, you don't want me to have him.  Isn't
        that right?
  SHELLEY: Oh, don't make me laugh.
  LISA: [growing enraged] Urrgh.  You liar!

LISA gets up and pounces SHELLEY, strangling her and rolling around the
ground with her in a little mud puddle on the yard.  A crowd of kids
gathers around the fight and starts chanting.  LISA growls with rage as
SHELLEY screams and wrestles with LISA, each pulling each other's hair
occasionally.  LISA loses a shoe and SHELLEY's dress tears.  SKINNER all
of a sudden shows up on the scene.

  SKINNER: All right!  All right!  What's going on here?  Break it up!

SHELLEY throws off LISA, who lands on her bottom with her hands on
the ground on either side of her.  She glares and gets up with SHELLEY.

  SKINNER: You girls should know quite clearly that you shouldn't be
           fighting unless it's funding the school somehow.
  LISA: How could we do that?
  SKINNER: Charging tickets.
  SHELLEY: [meekly] It was Lisa's fault!  She's crazy!  She started it
           while I was minding my own business!
  SKINNER: Is this true, Lisa?
  LISA: No!  Well, yes I did attack her, but. . .
  SKINNER: Lisa, I am surprised at you.  Our best student acting like a
           common hooligan.  Maybe being sent home will teach you not to
           bully people smaller than you.
  LISA: She's one year older than me!
  SKINNER: No argument.

LISA frowns.


LISA and BART come home from school.  BART takes off his lucky red hat and
tosses it anywhere carelessly while holding his books.  LISA is mucked up
with mud and her hair is mussed, her dress having a few rips on it.

  BART: [proudly] Lisa, you rock!  You were an earthquake, man!  I never
        thought you could be so cool, but, man, you kicked major assbutt.
  LISA: I'm so embarassed and ashamed I think I could kill myself with
        anything right now.
  BART: Well, look on the bright side.  You committed senseless violence,
        and everybody can be proud of that.
  LISA: Thanks, Bart.  I'm glad somebody feels that way.
  BART: Hey, just think of this as your ticket out of Geekville, and into

LISA does not bodily respond to BART, and she walks up the staircase.


LISA drops her books on the floor and lies down on her bed, looking up and



Sitting on the couch, MARGE smiles chipperly, holding the phone book on
her lap.  She looks through the phone book and starts to pick up the phone
when it suddenly rings.  MARGE answers it.

  MARGE: Hello?
  PERSON: [sensuously] Hey, babe. . . I've been thinkin' 'bout what you
          said about not being spontaneous, and, uh, I just wanna tell you I
          wanna take you home tonight and make you my nasty little whore.
  MARGE: Excuse me!?
  PERSON: Wait a minute.  Who is this?
  MARGE: My name is Marge Simpson, and you--
  PERSON: [apologetically and normally] Oh, hey!  Sorry sorry.  Wrong
          number.  [sensuously again] But uh, hey, as long as I'm here --
          offer sound tempting?
  MARGE: [indignant] Thank you, no!  Goodbye.

MARGE hangs up the phone.

  MARGE: That is the third booty call we've received this month.  Geez

MARGE picks up the phone and starts dialing.

  MARGE: Hello, Bobeche Bistro?  I would like to make a reservation for
         two at your best available table.  . . . You don't have any
         available tables?  Well, what's your most recent reservation? .
         .  . Montgomery Burns?  [dishonestly]  Well, he can't make it.  He
         died a little while ago.  . . .  How do I know?  My husband works
         for him.  Yes, a shame... anyway, that's Mr. and Mrs. Simpson.
         . . . Okay, he will be wearing a vest.  Thank you.

MARGE hangs up the phone.

  MARGE: [remorsefully] I know I will sorely regret doing that.  But it
         won't be today.

HOMER walks into the family room and sits beside MARGE, kissing her.

  HOMER: Marge, sweetie, did you make the reservations?
  MARGE: I sure did.
  HOMER: Excellent!  Marge, go to the salon and make your hair look
  MARGE: Oh, I can't afford that.  I guess we'll have to cut down on the
         beer and steak.
  HOMER: [cheaply] Oh, well, then just make your hair look presentable.
  MARGE: Hm.
  HOMER: While you're at the salon, I'm going to shower and get dressed.
  MARGE: Oh, Homer, don't forget to wear a vest.  They're very, very
         strict about that.
  HOMER: Your wish is my command!
  MARGE: Oh, Homer, where's Carrie?
  HOMER: Eh, she's out window shopping.  She'll be back later in the
  MARGE: Oh, all right.  Good.  That means she can keep an eye on the
         kids.  Well, I'm off to do my hair!  [eagerly]  See you at
         dinner, Homer.

MARGE gets up and kisses HOMER and leaves the house, taking her purse with
her before leaving.  HOMER puts his hands in his pockets and whistles as
he walks upstairs.  HOMER walks into his bedroom and takes off his shirt.
He looks over the bed a moment.

  HOMER: [looking at bed] You're going to get quite a work-out tonight.
         Heh heh.

HOMER takes off his pants, while whistling, and then starts to take off
his underwear.

CUT TO: The entrance.

CARRIE opens the front door, smiling.  She sets her purse down on a table
and looks around.

  CARRIE: Hi, guys!  I'm back!  [pause]  Hello?  Anybody home?  Hm.

CUT TO: Homer and Marge's bedroom.

HOMER is just now firmly tying the belt on his bathrobe when he pauses a

  HOMER: Hm.  I thought I heard something.  Oh well.  Probably the
         imaginary ice cream truck Marge had to stop me from fantasizing

CUT TO: The basement.

CARRIE opens a drawer on her dresser that has a mirror on top of it beside
her cot.

  CARRIE: I suppose I'll take a quick shower.

CARRIE unzips the back of her sleeveless, blue dress.

CUT TO: Homer and Marge's bedroom.

  HOMER: Hm.  I believe I will go get the toenail clippers.  [realizing]
         Wait a minute, why am I saying that?

HOMER walks out of the bedroom and goes down the stairs.  In the family
room, he looks around the couch for the clippers.

  HOMER: Hm.  They're not on the lamp table.  I'll check under the couch.

As HOMER is searching the couch, CARRIE quietly walks up the stairs.

  HOMER: [retrieving clippers] Ah.  Here they are.  Ooh, a hairy twinkie.

CUT TO: Homer and Marge's bathroom.

CARRIE starts the shower and removes her robe, placing it over the
bathroom door.  She climbs into the shower and closes the shower door.
HOMER walks into the bedroom, whistling.

  HOMER: Hey, I don't remember starting the shower.
  HOMER'S BRAIN: Well, who else would've?
  HOMER: Shut up, brain!  I can figure this out myself.
  HOMER'S BRAIN: Fine.  I know when I'm not wanted.  I'm going to leave
                 and slam the door.  Yes, I am going to slam the door and
                 leave.  [sound of footsteps storming away and a door
  HOMER: Ehh, who cares.

HOMER walks into the bathroom and places the clippers on top of the sink.
He removes his robe and tosses it onto the toilet.  With a
horrifically disturbingly and dramatic cue of music, HOMER opens the
shower door.  CARRIE is rubbing water on her arm when she turns to her
front and sees HOMER as he opens the door.

  CARRIE: [even closer shot] AAAAAAH!
  HOMER: [even closer shot] AAAAAA. . . [suddenly intriguement] ooh. . .

HOMER slams the door and runs out the bathroom, through the bedroom, and
into the hallway and down the stairs and opens the front door and runs out
onto the front lawn, screaming.

  ROD: [o.s.] Look, Daddy!  It's Adam!  Where's Eve?
  NED: [o.s.] DON'T LOOK AT IT, ROD!





We see opening and closing like an opening and closing eye revealing
and concealing BART and LISA, who are looking above someone.  We see
HOMER, nude, lying on the couch with a phone book over his crotch.  He
gets up and puts his hand to his head.

  HOMER: [disoriented] Augh.  I had the most disturbing dream.  I dreamt
         that I went to take a shower and Carrie was already in the shower
         and I opened the door and we saw each other naked.
  LISA: Is that why you ran screaming onto the front lawn and fainted in
        the middle of the street where we found you?
  HOMER: [noticing the phone book] AAGH!
  BART: Homeboy, that wasn't a dream.
  HOMER: Oh my God!  All of the neighbors saw me naked!
  BART: Ah, come on.  You say that as if it's the first time.  Mel the
        Artist has several portraits of you hanging on his walls.
  HOMER: Shut up, boy.
  LISA: Dad, would you like me to get your bathrobe?
  HOMER: Oh, would you, Lisa?  It's in the bathroom.

LISA walks away from the couch and out of the frame to retrieve HOMER's

  BART: Dad, you could set a world record for doing the most idiotic
        things in the history of mankind.
  HOMER: Hey, boy, I wear the pants in this house.  You should give me
         some respect.
  BART: [smart] You're not wearing any now.
  HOMER: Out, boy!
  BART: Yes, sir!

BART scampers off.



HOMER, dressed in his blue suit with black shoes and a black tie -- and a
blue vest, is sitting on the couch staring at the TV, looking worried and
nervous.  MARGE walks into the room wearing her orange'ish sleeveless
dress with the long gloves.  She puts on her earrings as she walks into
the room.

  MARGE: Well, Homer, I'm all ready to go.  Are you?
  HOMER: [nervous] Oh, yeah.  Ready, ready, and fully dressed.
  MARGE: Well, good.  I'll get my purse and you can start the car.
  HOMER: Yes, yes.  Starting the car would be good.  [nervously blurting]
         I never saw anyone naked and no one ever saw me naked.
  MARGE: [bewildered] Uh. . . that's nice, Homer.  Okay, um, let's go.
  HOMER: All right.

CARRIE walks into the family room wearing a green blouse, a black vest and
black shorts.  She has her hands behind her back and looks a little

  CARRIE: Well, you guys have a lot of fun.  I'll keep a good eye on the
  MARGE: Good.  The emergency numbers are on the refrigerator door. 

MARGE slips CARRIE a sheet of paper.

  MARGE: [quietly] Call these numbers for preventive advice from Bart's
         past babysitters and their caretakers.
  CARRIE: [distraught] Oh.
  MARGE: All right, bye, everyone!
  HOMER: [nervous] Uh, bye, Carrie.  Bye, kids.
  CARRIE: Mm -- bye, Homer.

HOMER and CARRIE look awkwardly at each other as HOMER and MARGE walk out
of the front door.


At the entrance, MR. BURNS and SMITHERS stop beside the
snobbish-looking tuxedo-clad doorman who's standing behind a podium.  MR.
BURNS and SMITHERS are both in vests.

  DOORMAN: Names, gentlemen?
  MR. BURNS: Burns, Montgomery Burns.
  SMITHERS: Uh, Waylan Smithers.
  DOORMAN: I'm sorry, we do not have any tables for you.
  MR. BURNS: What?  How can that be?
  SMITHERS: [miffed] I made reservations a little while ago.
  DOORMAN: Sir, we don't have any more tables, and. . .
  MR. BURNS: Smithers, please.  Don't make a scene.  [bursting]  YOU
  DOORMAN: According to our list, you're, um, dead.
  MR. BURNS: Impossible!  I so obviously look young and vibrant, and a
             dash sexy I might add.  My associate here so frequently and
             objectively attests to that!

SMITHERS frowns a bit.

  SMITHERS: I don't mean to be difficult, but we have I.D. . .

HOMER and MARGE show up behind MR. BURNS and SMITHERS.

  HOMER: Excuse me.
  MR. BURNS: [ired] Dph!

HOMER and MARGE shove through MR. BURNS and SMITHERS, and they stand
behind the couple.

  HOMER: Mr. and Mrs. Simpson.
  DOORMAN: Ah, yes.  I will show you to your table.
  MR. BURNS: WHAT!  I will not be cast aside again!  You can't do this to
             me!  Smithers, do something.
  SMITHERS: Uh, you can't do this to him.
  DOORMAN: I'm sorry, gentlemen.
  MR. BURNS: Grrph.  [to HOMER]  You.
  HOMER: Hm?
  MR. BURNS: Surely, you accept being a blue collar Johnny Pinchpenny, you
             do not belong in this highly cultured, soir‚‚e atmosphere.
  HOMER: Nothing's too classy for my wife, sir.
  MR. BURNS: [coming unglued] Get out!  As your social superior, I demand
             you leave us to our rightful meal.  And the two of you can
             sashay across the street over to the cheeseburger outlet
  HOMER: Come on, honey.
  MR. BURNS: Bah.  Come along, Smithers.  Soon, I will be vindicated.
  SMITHERS: Yes, sir.

HOMER and MARGE walk through the restaurant, which has plants and French
art all over the walls.  They sit at a square, glass table with two
glasses on them and napkins.

  DOORMAN: Here are your menus, and one of our waiters -- who are all fey
           and extremely feminine, we can assure you -- will serve you

The DOORMAN leaves.

  HOMER: Wow.  This place doesn't look like the sort of place that would
         serve fries.
  MARGE: No, Homer.
  HOMER: Think I should ask?
  MARGE: No, Homer.
  HOMER: . . .'Cause, you know, it *is* a French restaurant.  I'd figure
         french fries would--
  MARGE: You know, Homer, now that I really think about it, I was pretty
         silly to be acting jealous of Carrie.
  HOMER: Aw.
  MARGE: I mean, just because her lemon-meringue pie made more money than
         anything I brought to the church social, and the kids who make
         fun of my hairstyle all the time even try to peep at her, and you
         two spent so much time together doesn't mean she's better than
         me.  I love my sister, and I'm proud of her.  And I'm going to be
         less worried from now on.  I know nothing ever, ever would happen
         between you two.
  HOMER: [gulp] Uh, yeah.

A WAITER approaches.

  WAITER: Are we ready to order?
  MARGE: Yes.  I'll start with the Pan bagna, and for the entrees, the
         Foie d'Anguille Ravais, and the Grand Aioli.
  WAITER: As you wish, Madame.
  MARGE: [corgially] Tres bien.
  HOMER: Uh. . . I'll have what she's having.
  MARGE: [chuckles] I had a feeling you wouldn't know what to order.

HOMER looks slightly sheepish.  He and MARGE smile at each other.



CARRIE is chopping lettuce in the kitchen when the family, coming home
from church, walk in.

  MARGE: Hi, Carrie!
  CARRIE: Marge, how was church?
  MARGE: Good!  Although, I do question the morality of taking donations
         from people who have fallen asleep.
  HOMER: [looking through his wallet] Hey, I thought I had more money than
  CARRIE: I've been making some tortilla snacks.  Oh, how I've forgotten
          the joy of cooking.
  MARGE: Carrie, listen, I want to apologize if you've gotten any cold or
         apathetic reception from me.  Things have been a little tense for
         me, but I can assure you, I'm very glad you've come to visit.
  CARRIE: Oh.  Well, as far as I'm concerned, you've been the perfect
          sister.  [realizing]  Oh, hey, everyone.  I just got a fun idea.
  MARGE: Oh?  What's that?
  CARRIE: I have a friend here who wants me to house-sit for him this
          Saturday.  I thought maybe we could all have a pool party.

The children clamor with excitement.  MAGGIE sucks on her pacifier.

  HOMER: Ooh!  Can I wear a blue speedo and paint on my chest "No Fat
  MARGE: Please don't, Homer.
  HOMER: Aw.  All right.
  MARGE: I think that'd be a wonderful idea, Carrie.



LISA hides behind a tree, peeking out from behind it at SCOTT, who's once
again playing marbles.  She takes a deep breath.

  LISA: [to herself] Okay, Lisa.  This won't be so hard.  Just tell him
        the truth, and hope to God he believes you.

LISA walks slowly towards SCOTT, who looks up at her and suddenly stops
playing marbles.

  SCOTT: Oh, hey, Lisa.  This is a bad time 'cause I've got--
  LISA: You think I'm crazy, don't you?
  SCOTT: [nervous] Of course not!  You just wouldn't believe how busy I
         am, however.
  LISA: Shelley told you some things about me, didn't she?
  SCOTT: A. . . couple of things.
  LISA: I know she told you I'm seeing a psychiatrist and that there are
        problems in my family.  And despite having a father who considers
        scratching a hobby, I don't really have any problems in my family.
        And I don't need to see a psychiatrist.
  SCOTT: You don't?
  LISA: No!  I'm perfectly happy.
  SCOTT: Why'd Shelley say all the kids know about it?
  LISA: 'Cause Shelley likes being mean to me, I guess.  I wouldn't listen
        to her.
  SCOTT: Well, that's a relief.  'Cause I enjoyed hanging out with you so
         much.  You've made my beginnings at this school so cool.
  LISA: Well. . . does this mean I can come to your birthday party?
  SCOTT: Of course, Lisa!  And. . . I would be happy to have you as my
         favorite guest.
  LISA: Oh, Scott.
  SCOTT: I have to run now.  I'll see you after school, okay?
  LISA: [smiling] Okay.

SCOTT gives LISA a kiss on the cheek, smiles at her, and runs off.  LISA
sighs contently.  SHELLEY glares at LISA from the tree LISA was standing

  SHELLEY: Ooh.  What a shameless show-off.  [wickedly]  Hm.  I've got an
           idea.  [running out from the tree]  Oh, Lisa!!  Come quick!
           Something horrible has happened!
  LISA: [startled] Shelley, what's wrong?
  SHELLEY: Your brother. . . he fell into a ditch behind the school!
  LISA: Oh no!
  SHELLEY: I think he sprained an ankle!

LISA rushes away to the yard behind the school and looks at a mediocre

  LISA: [confused] Shelley, Bart isn't here.

SHELLEY snickers and pushes LISA into the ditch.

  LISA: Woah!

SHELLEY starts kicking mud into the ditch and onto LISA.

  SHELLEY: Now you smell as bad as your attitude, Lisa.  [giggles]

Several other kids look at LISA, covered in mud in the ditch, and start
laughing.  LISA looks embarassed.


LISA pushes the front door open and drops her backpack by the staircase
and runs up the stairs, crying softly.  BART runs behind her and stops in
his tracks in the doorway.

  BART: Lisa!


LISA runs into the room and slams the door.  She sits on her bed and
buries her face in her hands.  BART opens the door.

  BART: Hey, Lisa. . .
  LISA: [whispering-soft] What, Bart...?
  BART: Lisa, you can't let that bratty snit get to you, man.
  LISA: I. . .I can't help it.  No matter how much I avoid talking to her,
        she just goes after me.
  BART: You're going to have to show her who's boss.  And I'd be perfectly
        willing to help you get her in check.
  LISA: [less sadly] You would?
  BART: Absolutely.  Making your life miserable is nobody's job but mine.
  LISA: Heh.  [wiping eyes]  Well, do you have any ideas in mind?
  BART: [professionally] Walk with me into my office.
  LISA: Why can't you just tell me here?
  BART: 'Cause your room is bugged.
  LISA: It is?
  BART: Well, yeah, sometimes I like to tape record your conversations.
  LISA: [ired] Bart. . .
  BART: Okay, okay.



On one half of the living room, a chair rests on the left side of
a closet.  There is a staircase on the right side of the closet that leads
up to a hallway on the left of the staircase.  On the other end of the
closet is a table which is against a wall on the right side of the front
door, and is beside the wall partition dividing the living room.  On the
other half of the living room, the kitchen door is on far right of the
half of the living room, closest to the dividing wall partition.  To the
left of the kitchen door is a wall with a "window" of sorts that peeks
inside the kitchen.  Furniture and a fireplace make up the rest of the
home.  Children are dancing and playing and talking while listening to
music, and drinking punch from a bowl on the table on the other end of the
living room from the kitchen door.  LISA and BART stand beside the

  LISA: Okay, Bart, what do I do?
  BART: You get Princess Airhead to play pin the tail on the donkey, and
        I'll take my position in the hallway.
  LISA: All right.  What if you get caught?
  BART: I'll drop the line and run screaming like a little girl.
  LISA: Dad taught you well.
  BART: Remember, your secret identity is Agent Cockleshells.
  LISA: And yours is?
  BART: Agent Asskicker.
  LISA: [bewildered] What?
  BART: Lis', don't worry, they're just for fun.  I doubt we'll ever need
  LISA: Let's just get this over with.
  BART: Okay.

BART runs up the staircase.  LISA walks through the living room looking
for SHELLEY.  She spots SHELLEY talking to MILHOUSE.

  MILHOUSE: Hey, Shelley, I bet your Dad couldn't run a cracker factory.
  SHELLEY: I bet your Dad never told you about breath mints.
  MILHOUSE: [pathetic chuckle] You know, a lot of girls told me I look a
            lot like Leo DiCaprio.
  SHELLEY: Before or after the boat sinks?
  MILHOUSE: Uhh...  [sheepish]  After.
  SHELLEY: I see.  Well, I've grown tired of you.  I'm going to stand
           someplace else now.

SHELLEY walks away.

  MILHOUSE: Can I call you sometime!?  Or, or, smell your hair?  [cocky]
            Heh, Thrillhouse of Love breaks another heart.

A girl standing beside MILHOUSE looks at him.

  GIRL: [sarcastically] What dimension are you lost in?

SHELLEY talks to SCOTT at the punch table.

  SHELLEY: [doting] Hi, Scott.
  SCOTT: Hey, Shelley.  Enjoying yourself?
  SHELLEY: Oh, lots!  Of all the common houses I've ever been to, yours
           comes closest to mine.  [aggressively]  Can I hold your hand?
  SCOTT: Uh, why?

LISA interrupts.

  LISA: Hey, I have an idea.  Let's play some games.
  SCOTT: Oh, that'd be great.  What're you up for?  Cherades?
         Spin-the-bottle?  Twister?
  LISA: How about pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey?
  SCOTT: [thinking] Hm.  Well, it's a bit childish, but if you're game, so
         am I.
  LISA: Oh, well, you know, the whimsy isn't quite dead in me.  Heh heh.
  SHELLEY: I don't like pin the tail on the donkey.
  LISA: Fine.  I suppose Scott would enjoy watching me play it then.
  SHELLEY: [changing her mind] Well, on the other hand, I could show
           everyone else how much better I am at it.
  SCOTT: Great.  I'll get the blindfold.

LISA grins.

On the wall of the staircase is a picture of a Picasso-esque donkey that
gives a vague indication of where the tail should be.

  SHELLEY: What is this monstrosity?  You expect me to put the tail on
  LISA: I'm sure you can do it, Shelley.  You can do anything, remember?
  SHELLEY: [self-indulgent] Yes, of course.

LISA puts the blindfold on SHELLEY, and fastens it especially tight.

  SHELLEY: Hey!  Not so tight!
  LISA: I want to make extra sure you can't see.


BART, in the hallway, grins and grabs a fishing line.  A small group of
kids cheer on SHELLEY as she gropes around the paper to pin the tail.  The
children direct her as to how close or far she is from the mark.  BART
snickers and lowers the line and hook precariously and slips the hook
underneath SHELLEY's skirt.  He cautiously reels the line upwards,
pulling SHELLEY's dress higher and higher upward, revealing her pink
panties.  The children laugh and SHELLEY pauses, sensing something amiss
and she throws her hands down, feeling her bare legs, and she gasps.

  SHELLEY: Aagh!  My dress!  What happened to my dress!?
  LISA: [laughs]
  SHELLEY: Aaaaaugh!!

SHELLEY tries to run, but she trips.  She takes off the blindfold and then
unhooks her dress, and then runs away, thoroughly embarassed.  SCOTT looks
at SHELLEY a bit bewildered.

  SCOTT: Wow. . . uh, what just happened?
  LISA: I haven't the slightest idea.
  SCOTT: Oh, well.  She'll be over it.  Hey, Lisa, want to sit and talk?
  LISA: Okay, I'd like that.  But first, I have to take care of something.
  SCOTT: Oh, all right.

LISA runs up the staircase and meets with BART.

  BART: Well done, Agent Cockleshells.
  LISA: Mm.  It was so satisfying to take her down a notch.
  BART: And you said that my "Lil' Bastard's Guide To Immature Mischief"
        was good for nothing.
  LISA: [sighs] Yeah.  [pondering] Although, I can't help feeling like I
        stooped to her level.
  BART: Well, yeah, you did.
  LISA: Hm.  Maybe I should try harder to turn the other cheek.
  BART: Ooh, you're gonna moon her for a big finale?
  LISA: Uh, no, Bart.  I think maybe I should go apologize.
  BART: [bored] Maybe I'll go get something to eat before you make me lose
        my appetite.

LISA and BART walk down the staircase.

CUT TO: Scott's front porch.

SHELLEY is crying on the front porch.  LISA walks up beside her, a little

  LISA: Shelley?  Are you okay?
  SHELLEY: Leave me alone, country girl.
  LISA: I don't know why I bother to care about you.  [starts to walk away]
  SHELLEY: No, Lisa.  Wait.
  LISA: What?  Just thought up another good insult?
  SHELLEY: No.  Lisa, could we be friends?
  LISA: Friends?  Are you kidding me?  After what you put me through?
  SHELLEY: The truth is. . . I don't really have anybody.  I guess I
           figure most people will like me, so I can afford to be mean to
  LISA: Nobody likes anyone who thinks they're better than everybody else.
  SHELLEY: It's just that. . . everybody was so jealous of me in Capital
           City, and nobody would talk to me.  And my parents, they're
           always so busy.  They don't even know I'm alive sometimes.
  LISA: I see.  Well, as much as I'm sorry for that, that still doesn't
        give you the right to hurt other people.
  SHELLEY: [sighs] I guess I'm starting to see that now.  Oh, Lisa, I'm
  LISA: You are?
  SHELLEY: I suppose I am.
  LISA: [smiling] Well, then I guess I'm sorry for having my brother pull
        your dress up in front of everybody.
  SHELLEY: That was you!?
  LISA: Always the one you least suspect, I guess.
  SHELLEY: [smile-within-a-glare] I still don't like you, country girl.
  LISA: [laughs] I'll see you later, Shelley.

In an overhead shot of the porch, LISA and SHELLEY walk back into SCOTT's
house.  LISA joins SCOTT on a couch and reads a book with him.

  LISA: Scott, I'm having a wonderful time.
  SCOTT: Me, too, Lisa.  I'm knowing so many kids at school, but when I'm
         with you, it's like we're the only people in the room.

LISA smiles and holds SCOTT's hand.  We pull out slowly from LISA and
SCOTT on the couch, revealing the rest of the living room.





In a patio, with a pool, recliners are set up beside the pool.  The
family, including CARRIE, are dressed in bathing suits.  HOMER has a blue
speedo on, BART is in orange swimming trunks, LISA is in a pink two-piece
bathing suit, and MARGE is in a red one-piece bathing suit.  CARRIE is
wearing a green semi-conservative two-piece bikini.  The children play
Marco Polo in the pool, while MAGGIE strolls alongside the pool.  She
nearly falls in when a floater drifts by conveniently, and MAGGIE falls
onto it instead, and lies down and closes her eyes, sucking her pacifier.
CARRIE and MARGE sit side by side on recliners.

  CARRIE: [sighs] Too bad we shoot the commercial this week.  I was
          looking forward to staying longer.
  MARGE: Why don't you move to Springfield?  Our crime rate is low, and
         our police chief shows up at work every day.
  CARRIE: Hard working police?
  MARGE: Well, the police chief shows up at work every day.

HOMER climbs up onto a diving board that's 3 feet above the water and
cannonballs into the water.

  HOMER: Cowabunga!

HOMER makes a huge splash in the water.  LISA and BART cover their faces
from the splashback.

  BART: Dad, you would not believe how 1990 Cowabunga sounds.
  HOMER: Yeah, well, stick it in your pipe and smoke it, boy.  Some things
         never get old.
  BART: Yeah, right.  Eat my shorts.
  MARGE: You know, Homer, I don't think that suit leaves much to the
  HOMER: [swimming] Well, honey, when you've got it, flaunt it, I always
  BART: Got what, Dad?
  HOMER: [preachy] Son, believe me, there are plenty of people who would
         feel privileged to see a man with a little body naked.
  BART: Oh, yecch.  You're going to brag about last weekend, too, Dad?
  HOMER: [out the side of his mouth] Ix nay on the naked-ay, boy.
  BART: I can make you do anything with the info I've got, Homer.
  HOMER: Yeah, I can also starve you, Bart.
  BART: Sheesh.  What a grump.
  MARGE: Well, I think I'll go get some drinks for everyone from the
  CARRIE: Oh, good, Marge!

LISA and BART play with a beach ball in the water.  BART chuckles evilly
and throws the ball so hard it whaps LISA.

  LISA: Ow!  Quit that, Bart!

BART splashes water onto LISA.

  LISA: Wlah!
  BART: Hee hee hee.
  LISA: All right, Bart.  Two can play at this game.

LISA splashes water harder at BART.

  BART: Hey, man!  No fair!  You're not supposed to fight back.
  LISA: [giggles]

HOMER climbs out of the pool and dries himself off a little with a towel.
He walks up to CARRIE's recliner.

  HOMER: Hey, Carrie, how long before you have to go?
  CARRIE: Oh, a week or so, I guess.  I'm still rehearsing a little for
          the commercial.
  HOMER: What is this commercial?
  CARRIE: I'm the new Tasty Choice wife.
  HOMER: Oh.  I hope they got a new husband, because I always thought the
         old one was gay.
  CARRIE: Heh.  Hey, Homer, I have the script with me.  Would you mind
          helping me rehearse?
  HOMER: Me?  I'm not that good an actor!

We flashback to a high school auditorium.  HOMER, dressed in 1500s garb and
wearing a brown shoulder-length long wig, stands in front of a bed, on which
SANDRA (from 3F21) is lying.

  YOUNG HOMER: It is the cause!  It is the cause of thy pain.  Name not
               the cause.
  SANDRA: Othello, what art thou doing here?
  YOUNG HOMER: Have you prayed tonight, Desdemona?  I shalt not kill an
               unprepared soul.
  SANDRA: Talk you of killing?
  YOUNG HOMER: Uh. . . yeah.  I, um, cleanse thee of thine. . . uh. . .
  SANDRA: [agitated] Sins.
  YOUNG HOMER: Oh, right.

YOUNG HOMER, antsy, starts trying to strangle SANDRA, when SANDRA wrestles
his hands away, and slaps him.

  SANDRA: Don't touch me again, Othello.

Flashback to the present.  HOMER frowns at the flashback.

  CARRIE: Oh, it doesn't matter.  Just as long as I have somebody to
          rehearse with.
  HOMER: Well, okay.

MARGE slides open the patio door, with a tray of glasses of juice.
LISA and BART climb out of the pool eagerly and rush to get the juice.

  MARGE: Ooh, I see we have some thirsty swimmers.
  LISA: Dad certainly doesn't seem tense around Aunt Carrie anymore.
  MARGE: Why would he be?
  LISA: Well, I'd imagine anyone who saw another person naked would be
        startled and surprised beyond belief.
  BART: How naive you are, Lisa.  When you're a little older, you'll
        realize that those feelings of surprise will soon be replaced with
        feelings of disgust.
  MARGE: Naked!?  What are you talking about?
  LISA: Dad didn't tell you about their encounter?
  MARGE: [gasps]

MARGE thoughtless hands LISA the tray of drinks and looks from afar at
CARRIE and HOMER, poised together, rehearsing.

  CARRIE: ``I wonder what's in this coffee.  I've never had anything so
          delicious and stimulating!''
  HOMER: [unconvincingly] ``Well you know how nothing revs me up like
         Tasty Choice's extra caffenated black coffee drink.''

CARRIE and HOMER tip their heads and kiss each other.  MARGE gasps hard
and shocked at the two of them.  MARGE runs after them.

  MARGE: So!  My sisters were right about what a trollop you are, Carrie!
  CARRIE: Marge!  What's wrong?
  MARGE: I saw you both with my own two eyes!  I thought nothing was going
         on between you and now I know about you two, doing funny business
         in my own house, and kissing in broad daylight. . .!
  HOMER: Marge, honey!  Calm down!
  MARGE: How could you betray my trust like this, Homer?
  HOMER: Marge, listen, I'm sorry I didn't make you abreast of what
         happened, but there's nothing titilating about Carrie whatsoever
         to me!  I'm not pussy-footing around with her!  You know what an
         asset she's been to us, and how hard it'd be without her.
  MARGE: Of all the lies you've ever told, this is the worst, Homer!  I
         thought I was more worthy of your trust than this.  Maybe if I
         was the wench my so-called sister is, you'd tell me the truth
         once in a while!
  CARRIE: Wench!?  Marge!  I didn't do anything with Homer I haven't done

MARGE glares at CARRIE and pushes her into the pool and fights with her.
HOMER grabs MARGE from out the water and holds her.

  HOMER: Marge!  Get a hold of yourself!
  MARGE: [frowning a little] I don't even want to look at you, Homer.
  HOMER: I can't believe you're blowing this all out of proportion!  I was
         just rehearsing the commercial with Carrie!
  MARGE: That still doesn't excuse. . .
  HOMER: [offended] You know, there are some things I thought you knew I'd
         never do, but I suppose you don't trust me or Carrie enough to
         think the best.  I'm not the brightest person in the world, or
         even the most responsible person, but for once, it bothers me
         that I don't know what to think right now.  Come on, Carrie, I
         don't think Marge wants you to be home any more.

HOMER goes into the house with CARRIE in tow.  LISA and BART look
worriedly at one another.  MARGE frowns as she looks at HOMER leave.


HOMER and CARRIE have gotten dressed and are in the car.

  HOMER: [unemotionally] I'll drop the car by the house and I guess
         you can get your stuff and we'll stay at a hotel.
  CARRIE: Okay.

Brief pause.

  CARRIE: Homer, are you sure this is the right thing to do?
  HOMER: I need some time to think by myself.
  CARRIE: Why?  You can't be mad at Marge.
  HOMER: I'm not, really.  I. . . just don't know what I've been thinking
         for the past few weeks.
  CARRIE: Oh.  [sighs]  This has turned out so wrong.  I was so happy when
          I found all of you, and now I feel like it's all. . .

HOMER frowns a little and looks at CARRIE a moment.



MARGE is pacing back and forth behind the couch.  We dissolve to MARGE
staring out into space with her back facing behind the couch.  We dissolve
to MARGE sitting on the couch with her arms on her knees and her face
buried in her hands.  PATTY and SELMA walk into the living room.

  SELMA: Marge, I know you're hurting now, but, you'll get over it.
  PATTY: Yeah.  I know a great guy down at the DMV who's really nice and
         around your age.  Except his furniture smells like feet and he
         thinks he's the King of Spain.
  MARGE: [worried] I don't know what I've done.  I feel like I made a
         mistake and now I've lost Homer.
  SELMA: Well, if you're looking for someone to fill Homer's void, I can
         introduce you to something that's growing on my raisin bread

CUT TO: Lisa and Bart sitting on the staircase.

  LISA: Why are these fights always so stupid?  I'll never understand it.
  BART: They'll get through this.  They always do.  Don't worry about it.
  LISA: How do you know?
  BART: I just do.
  LISA: I don't know who's right or who's wrong here.  I wish Mom and Dad
        didn't either, and this would all be over with.

BART looks at LISA and pats her on the back.


At a somewhat tall building, there is a sign at the bottom that reads
"Spinster Arms" with a picture of a cane and top hat beside it.


In HOMER and CARRIE's room, there is a bed, a nightstand beside it, and a
TV atop a drawer in front of it on the other end of the room.  On the
other side of the bed is a window with pulled-back drapes.  On this wall
also is a closet.  Beside the TV is a small corridor leading to the front
door, the corridor being made up of the bathroom on the right side of the
door.  HOMER stands in front of the window, staring off.  CARRIE walks
beside him.

  CARRIE: How're you doing, Homer?
  HOMER: I don't know.  Does it matter?
  CARRIE: You're still hurt and angry.
  HOMER: No.  I'm just confused as usual.  A dim-wit like me doesn't ever
         know what he's thinking.
  CARRIE: Homer, you're not a dim-wit.
  HOMER: Oh, sure.  I've told you all sorts of fancy stories about what a
         competant employee I am, how responsible I am, but I'm not.  I
         hate work, and I'm hardly any better than those bozos down at
  CARRIE: I never cared about all that, Homer.
  HOMER: You. . . didn't?
  CARRIE: You're a kind man, Homer.  A good husband, and as long as you
          try to be a good person, that's all that counts.
  HOMER: [sigh]
  CARRIE: We know that nothing is going on, right?
  HOMER: Well. . . what do you mean?
  CARRIE: That whole silly shower incident.  We're just family.
  HOMER: I wonder if I just have to think that, for Marge's sake.
  CARRIE: What are you saying?
  HOMER: [solemn] I don't know.  I think I'll go out for a walk.
  CARRIE: Okay, Homer.


DISSOLVE TO: General streets.

"I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues" by Elton John starts up, as
HOMER walks down the street with his green jacket on, his hands in his
pockets, looking downward.  He passes by a movie theater, and on its
marquee, the following movies are listed:

        Lethal Injection 5
        Maximum Ovaries
        The Tracey Ullman Show: The Movie
        As Lame as It Gets
        Everything You Didn't Want to Know About Sex (And Wish You Hadn't
HOMER sees a couple, the man carrying his girlfriend over the threshold,
and the two of them smiling and laughing, and suddenly gets out of their
way.  He looks at them as they pass by, and then keeps walking.  He sees
the Chez Paree and stares at it.  We zoom into the restaurant, and
suddenly flashback to HOMER and MARGE dancing, and having dinner, from
7G01.  Dissolve back to HOMER walking down the street.  He looks up a
moment and then we dissolve to a flashback of HOMER and MARGE holding
hands and kissing outside of the theater from 8F18.  Then we dissolve to a
flashback of HOMER undressing and joining MARGE in the bed from 8F19.
Dissolve back to HOMER walking.  He sits at a bench and buries his face in
his hands, sobbing a bit.

Dissolve to MARGE in bed in HOMER and MARGE's room.  She looks over at the
empty side of the bed where HOMER normally would be, then looks up.
Dissolve to a flashback of HOMER and MARGE, as teenagers, running with
each other through a park, till they trip and roll over the grass with one
another.  We dissolve to another flashback of HOMER and MARGE in the
windmill from 8F10, kissing.  We dissolve to another flashback of HOMER
walking away from MARGE in tattered rags, and MARGE forgivingly hugging
HOMER from 1F21.  We dissolve back to MARGE in bed, and pull out, as a
tear starts to run down her face.  [At an appropriate point in the song]
the music ends.




HOMER sits on the bed, with his hands resting on the sides of his face.
CARRIE sits by him.

  CARRIE: Somehow I feel like this is all my fault.  It's just like when I
          was young, and my sisters always thought I'd stolen their
          boyfriends.  [sighs]  I'd give anything in the world to just be
          friends with Marge again.
  HOMER: Blaming yourself is crazy-talk, Carrie.  If anyone can be blamed,
         it should be me.  I always ignore her, and not until now do I
         realize that without her, I'm only half a man.
  CARRIE: I don't think so.  You took Marge out and showed her a great
          time and how much you loved her.  You can't be blamed for this.
  HOMER: Well. . . then, who is there to blame?

Brief pause.  We cut to an overhead shot of HOMER and CARRIE on the bed.


MARGE, in slippers and her pinkish sleeping gown, sits on the couch,
staring obliviously at the turned on TV.  All of a sudden, she hears a car
pull up outside and looks a bit surprised.  She looks out the window and
sees it to be HOMER's car.  She opens the front door and stands on the
front porch outside in the windy night.  HOMER leaves the car in the
driveway, and gets out.  He stands behind the car and stares at MARGE with
a longing face.  MARGE smiles sadly at him, and picks up momentum towards
HOMER, who starts to do the same.  They softly hug each other, and then

  MARGE: Oh, Homer.
  HOMER: Marge...por vous.
  MARGE: I'm so sorry, Homer.  I made too much out of that innocent thing
         between you and Carrie.
  HOMER: I'm sorry, too.  I shouldn't have overreacted like that.
  CARRIE: Well, enough of that.  It's over, so be happy!

CARRIE has gotten out of the car, and she smiles at MARGE, who lets go of

  MARGE: Oh, Carrie.  Let's be sisters again.
  CARRIE: I'd love that.
  MARGE: Welcome back to the family.

We cut to an overhead shot of HOMER, MARGE and CARRIE all walking back
into the house.


HOMER, MARGE, BART, LISA, MAGGIE and CARRIE sit at the dining table, which
is laced with a roast beef, potatoes, soup and a vegetarian casserole.

  MARGE: What a lovely dinner this is.
  HOMER: Yeah.  And we're all here together to enjoy it.
  CARRIE: I'm going to miss you all, but this last night will give me
          something wonderful to remember.
  MARGE: You should come back any time, Carrie.
  CARRIE: I'd like that.
  BART: I don't know about the rest of you saps, but I'm starvin' Marvin.
        How about some grub?
  LISA: [sarcastic] Eloquently put, Bart.

The family start eating the dinner piggishly and loudly and MARGE smiles
at them all.

  MARGE: God bless us, one and all.



                                                           THE END


Dan Castellaneta ......... Homer J. Simpson
Julie Kavner ............. Marge Simpson, Patty & Selma
Nancy Cartwright ......... Bart J. Simpson, Rod Flanders
Yeardley Smith ........... Lisa Simpson
Hank Azaria .............. Man on Phone, Waiter
Harry Shearer ............ Principal Skinner, Ned Flanders, Mr. Burns,
                           Smithers, Doorman

  Special Guest Voices

Dave Foley ............... Scott Rose
Jane Krakowski ........... Carrie Matheson
Trey Parker & Matt Stone . Children on TV

  Supporting Cast

(Undecided) .............. Shelley Greenburg
Pamela Hayden ............ Milhouse
Maggie Roswell ........... Sandra
Russi Taylor ............. Girl

© 1998 Ondre Lombard/Artist Bros. Enterprises. Free distribution encouraged provided original credits and disclaimer are left unmodified. "THE SIMPSONS" and its related characters and places used without permission, and remain the copyright of 20th Century Fox Television. The persons and events depicted are ficticious. Any similarities to any persons living or dead is purely co-incidental, and people would relate to the story a lot better that way.

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Last updated on February 14, 1999 by Ondre Lombard (