Original subtitles

(Bart and Lisa noisily chewing)

Come on, come on, come on. Pick up the pace.

Here you go.

- (grunts) Mm... - (gulps)

Mmm.

Hurry up! It's almost here.

- (doorbell rings) - (exclaims)

- (panting) - Mm?

Yippee!

My industrial-grade steam vacuum.

The same model they use to clean

grisly crime scenes and sticky champagne rooms.

Okay, ma'am, I have you down for a three-hour rental

starting... now.

Everybody, out, out, out, out, out!

Me and the floors deserve to savor every minute

of our special spa day.

And take the dog.

(barks)

Now it's my time

to make these stains "herstory."

Ugh, are you quoting their actual slogan?

I'm quoting my wildest dreams.

BOTH: Dog park, dog park, dog park!

KIDS: Whee!

- Whee! Whee! - (boinging)

BOTH: Trampoline park, trampoline park,

trampoline park!

Aw, don't leave me alone in that giant dirt toilet

with all those lonely dog-obsessed weirdos.

BOTH: Please.

- (kids moaning) - (boinging)

Well, what could go wrong with all those doctors around?

- Hey, Homer. - What are you doing here?

(short chuckle) Once it became clear that human companionship

was a non-starter,

I adopted this handsome little mister, Devin.

He loves it here.

The training books say it's important

to keep your dog socialized.

HOMER: It's not a book park.

And now that you're here, I have somebody

I can talk dogs with.

So, where'd you get your dog?

Uh, I think he came with the house?

Look at us, dog-talking.

We'll meet here every morning at 7:00 and have our own club.

The Dog Dad Boyz.

I'll reach out to logo designers.

HOMER: Oh, God, somebody get me out of this.

(growls)

(yelps)

Aah! Dev-Dev!

Control your psycho, maniac.

Bad dog dad.

Membership in the Dog Dad Boyz revoked.

Oh, you saved me from the worst kind of human--

a dog lover.

I love you, dog.

Let's go get you a reward.

Okay, wait here for two minutes while I get your treat.

I'm gonna open the windows halfway

and leave the AC running.

(smacks)

Hmm.

What ice cream flavor will make my dog feel

like the most cherished creature in the entire universe?

(keys jingling)

Hey, check it out.

Some jerk left their dog in the car.

With the windows rolled up, no less.

- Who does that? - Monster.

Obviously, no chocolate, but he does love peanut butter.

Rum raisin is a no, for any species.

(indistinct chatter)

What kind of lunatic thinks this is okay?

Some people are just born broken.

(honking horn)

(whistling a tune)

Puppy spoiler, coming through.

Hey, what am I missing?

A churlish individual saw fit

to desert their dog in a hideous sedan.

Wait, it's not what it looks like.

I just left my dog in my car on purpose.

(indistinct grumbling)

Whoa, how could you, man?

And on a scorcher like today?

What? It's not a...

Aah! Come on boy, help me out.

Get the keys. Get the keys.

You expect him to work under these conditions?

No, wait. I think Marge

hid a key under the car somewhere.

The dog-cooking wuss is trying to hide.

MAN: Grab his legs!

Leave me alone. I'm good with dogs.

He locked the Dalmatian in the firetruck. Oh!

- (clamoring) - WOMAN: Gotta be kidding me!

(cheering)

Okay, everyone. The dog's fine.

Why don't you all just get a life.

No wonder his dog is such a psycho.

(huffs) He's probably a bad parent, too.

How dare you?

Dad, you forgot to pick us up.

(all gasp)

(sighs) Glad that's over, aren't we, boy?

Uh, I'm not so sure.

♪ ♪

MARGE: Oh... yes.

(sighs) This must be

how Catholics feel after confession.

Now, to post some before-and-after shots

so the neighbors can eat their dirty carpet hearts out.

Hmm?

No. (gasps)

No. No...

No!

Okay, so far, the neighborhood rage is contained

to just dog lovers.

Oh, no. It's spread to the cat people.

Oh, now it's the horse crazies.

Those horse crazies don't mess around.

Homer, you have to apologize for yesterday.

What? Why? The dog and I are cool.

Look, we know you didn't mean to do anything wrong.

But sometimes you just need to accept responsibility

so people will move on.

So, I drafted you a heartfelt apology.

That's so sweet, honey.

But trust me, it'll blow over.

When God gave man dominion over

all the beasts of the Earth,

that was not permission for one man

to abandon a dog in a hot Plymouth.

(murmuring)

Mm. Okay, I get it. Everybody's mad at me.

(softly) Dad, nip this in the bud

and use my apology.

I'm Homer Simpson,

and I'm truly sorry.

(chanting) Tsk, tsk, tsk!

Sorry if you pee-pee babies were offended by something

that was no big deal and everything's fine.

So what's the issue?

Amazing job, you really got his voice down.

Okay, Homer, I think you've made your point.

I'm sorry that you don't have enough things to get mad at.

I'm sorry that you all have skin

thinner than gas station toilet paper.

And I'm sorry that your lives are so boring

that you take a man who left his rescue dog

for two minutes to buy him organic ice cream

from a woman-owned local business,

and you crucify him!

- (glass shatters) - Ahh!

- (Devin yelps) - LENNY: Ow, my dog's eye!

Mm-mm.

♪ ♪

My fellow Springfielders, here at Burns Industries,

we release the hounds on all forms of disrespect,

and to tolerance we say, "excellent."

As such, we have terminated association

with Homer J. Simpson, as his actions

do not represent the values of Evil Corps.

Moving forward, we plan to sit back,

tent our fingers, and listen.

Well, Homer, on the plus side, this has made people forget

- you almost killed the dog. - Oh...

- (phone rings) - Yes, this is the residence

of the guy who pushed a pastor out of a church window.

Uh-huh. And would you classify that as a death threat

or merely an act of extreme violence?

Thank you for your rage.

Hm.

Oh, Lovejoy's fine.

But I lost my job and now that trolls put my photos

and phone number on the Internet,

I also lost my anonon-nim-ninim-ninity.

There's also a bunch of TikToks

of people lip-syncing to what you said,

because that's what comedy is now.

HOMER'S VOICE: I'm sorry that you all have skin

thinner than gas station toilet paper.

Oh, I've never been so viciously lampooned.

I hate this horrible new world.

What I need now is the comfort of fast food

and slow friends.

(gasping)

(exclaims)

Three weeks later.

ANNOUNCER: Shrimp? Who you calling shrimp?

It's prawn time, baby,

at Dead Lobster's Annual Prawn-a-thon!

Grab your bib for crispy popcorn prawn,

wood-grilled prawn skewers sizzling prawn scampi,

and parmesan-breaded prawns casino

served over ice cold lump prawn.

All washed down with a tropical Tiki Passion Prawn-tini.

(gasps) Guys!

It's Prawn-a-thon time. Guys!

They wouldn't go without me, would they?

(whimpers, gasps)

(indistinct conversations)

Oh my God, everybody, shut up.

It's the pastor-pusher.

(all gasp)

Well, I never.

Why am I always meeting people who never? Mm.

Hey, "strangers," enjoying your entrées of embarrassment

about being related to me?

Don't take it personally.

We need to be able to do some normal family things

without being publicly shamed.

We just want a little anon-mini-nanom-nini-ninity.

But Prawn-a-thon?

That's our special thon.

I'm so upset I might not ever be able

to get my prawn on again.

Yikes. That has got to be the saddest thing

ever said in a chain seafood restaurant.

It's not too late, Homer.

I'm here to help you.

Help me? Is this

some kind of prank, like when those YouTubers

chased me with real machetes?

Wow. And no.

I have created a refuge

where people like you can find redemption.

I run an institute. We call it The Institute.

(gasps)

And it might just be your last chance

at rehabilitating your reputation.

Wait, wait, are you saying you can steam clean,

if you will,

my husband's reputational carpet, if you will?

I am, and I will. And I will.

The Institute is his only hope.

Well, my reputation is everything to me.

That doesn't jibe with your past behavior.

I'm tired of reputations being about past behavior.

I'll do it. Keep it safe.

Here at the Institute, we break our rehabilitants up

according to the severity of their mistakes.

HOMER: Uh-huh. Yep.

That makes sense.

Interesting.

(chuckles)

We don't take any Halloween mishaps more recent than that

because, at a certain point, you should know better.

Totally.

Homer, meet your team.

Just like you, they all went stupid viral in a bad way.

First up, Helen Lovejoy, aka "Lemonade Karen."

Let me see your permit.

Where did you steal these lemons from?

I don't think you're even from this neighborhood.

Siri, call 911.

THEO: Councilman Jed Hawk, aka "The Toilet Rocker,"

who always forgets to turn off his camera and hit mute.

♪ She was a fast machine ♪

♪ She kept her motor clean ♪

(scat singing)

♪ American thighs ♪

- Oh, no. - (all gasp)

THEO: Larry Doogan, aka "Pissed-O-Shorty."

He throws tantrums in public.

A lot.

Oh sure, the club's at capacity

as soon as the short guy shows up.

I get it, and I'm pissed-O!

Oh, so you don't have any blueberry muffins left

for the short man? I'm pissed-O!

I do... realize you only agreed

to spend the rest of your life with me

- because I'm short, and it's pissing-me-o! - (gasps)

THEO: Kirk Van Houten, aka "Juice Box Dad."

Come on, Coach Loser, don't you want to win?

Take... my son... Out... of the game!

(sighs)

(laughs) Oh, yeah, I shared that.

Juice Box Dad.

Wait, how am I supposed to revive my reputation

associating with these scum?

Watch who you're calling short.

Whoa, somebody's pissed-O.

Siri, call 911.

Look, everyone, let's just calm down.

Or what? You'll push us out a stained glass window?

Hey! That was just a careless accident born out of rage.

(all clamoring)

Are we sure we have the right people for this team?

They're awful.

Which is why they're perfect for this mission.

Here at the Institute, we believe

good works overcome bad days.

So, to fix your reputations,

your team will be doing public acts of charity.

When we post them online,

they will make your transgressions a distant memory.

Work together?

Sorry, I don't exactly play well with others.

Okay, then we'll spend the day

doing a bunch of team-building improv exercises.

Good deeds! Good deeds!

♪ I'm a fool to do your dirty work ♪

♪ Oh, yeah ♪

♪ I don't wanna do ♪

♪ Your dirty work ♪

♪ No more ♪

♪ I'm a fool to do your dirty work ♪

♪ Oh, yeah. ♪

- (grunts) - (laughs)

I can feel my reputation being restored

with each carefully-staged good deed.

(people cackling)

Look, it's the people the Internet told us to hate.

(laughing)

They still hate us. The plan isn't working.

What do we do now? Call 911?

Unfortunately, that was the only way

to get you your lives back.

Well, there is one other way. No, we can't.

- What? - No, it's too radical.

Ah, but it's the only thing that's 100% guaranteed to work.

Hmm, yeah, it does sound pretty radical.

Thanks for being honest about that.

Well, sometimes the only way to get results

is through radical action.

Sorry, we took a vote. It's too radical.

Wh... I didn't even tell you what it is yet.

When you said "radical," you said enough.

Bye forever.

Look, I thought that by calling it radical,

you'd be more likely to want to do it.

Like you'd be intrigued or something.

(gasps) Intrigued, eh?

You are all here at The Institute...

...because of the humiliation you faced

after the world saw you on your worst day.

(all shudder)

But, what if you could delete all that

from every computer, every phone, every meme,

and even every personal hard drive on Earth?

But that's impossible.

You'd have to invent something to do that.

Funny you say that. I did

invent something to do that.

A universal eradication code that can completely scrub

any image or video from the entire Internet.

Scrub us. You scrub us right now!

Oh, I would, but first I need to upload the code

into the one server powerful enough

to reach every corner of the World Wide Web.

ChumNet.

You mean the company that puts those annoying

clickbait-y headlines on the bottom of every website?

Yes, they're everywhere.

No platform has greater reach.

But to upload the scrub code into their servers,

I need you to break in to the ChumNet headquarters.

Break in? That sounds dangerous.

It is, Helen.

That was the radical part I mentioned earlier,

that didn't seem to land with any of you.

Radical, eh?

Yeah, we don't have anything to lose.

So, we're kind of like a suicide squad.

You're exactly kind of like a suicide squad.

What do you say?

I think we can pull this-O.

I say we do it.

We need to fight for each other, because we're a family.

ALL: Aw.

A family I don't want or need.

I miss my actual family, so let's do this.

(all agree)

But if we're going on a commando mission,

don't we need some sort of training?

(laughs) Don't you see?

You've already had some sort of training.

♪ I'm a fool to do your dirty work ♪

♪ Oh, yeah ♪

♪ I don't wanna do your dirty work ♪

♪ No more ♪

♪ I'm a fool to do your dirty work. ♪

We're in.

Okay, just stay focused

until you find the ChumNet server room.

What about all the people in there?

There are no people. Just clickbait.

So whatever you do, don't stop to click on anything.

(snorts) Who falls for this garbage anyway?

- Wait, what does she look like now? - (click)

"80 NFL players who live in bad houses.

Number six will shock you." (scoffs)

- Well, we'll see about that. - (click)

"One simple trick to add

- years to your height." - (click)

Whoa, these headlines are so tempting.

No! We have to remember our goal.

Erasing our shame and returning to our pre-pariah lives. (gasps)

Oh, no.

They're all trapped in endless slow-loading slideshows.

These houses suck.

Sucks, sucks, sucks.

(gasps) Number six.

Homer, get them out now!

- (alarm blaring) - (whimpering)

I just wanted to know which vegetable

gut doctors are begging me to throw out.

It's radishes. I could have told you it was radishes!

Find the server room, Homer, you'll be safe there.

This is prawn-demonium!

Ooh.

THEO: Okay, straight ahead is the access port.

Mm...

Insert the flash drive.

Once the scrub code is fully uploaded,

everything will be erased,

and you will return to a life of anon-min-mity.

Anon-min, Amoni-mity.

COMPUTER: It's "anonymity."

Preparing global Internet scrub for the following individuals.

HOMER: There we are.

Wait, who are they? I recognize these people.

They're really terrible.

That guy raised the price of insulin for fun.

I think that guy was just president,

and those are his kids.

And, oh, my God,

that's the football coach that does all the cheating!

Yes, Homer. All evidence of their misdeeds

will be erased too.

But that's different.

Those people did actual bad stuff.

Wow, lot of Russian generals.

COMPUTER: Upload at 60%.

Jeebus crackers.

So the only way to save myself

is to erase the crimes of history's current monsters?

Oh, wise up, Homer.

Who do you think funded this entire operation?

(gasps) Scrubbing these villains

is what The Institute was always really about.

What do I do?

Wait, I never had a handkerchief.

(gasps) Oh, this is the apology Lisa wrote for me.

The upload's nearly complete.

I can think of almost nothing at the last minute

that will stop us now.

"It is with my family's support

that I will strive to do the right thing."

I will strive to do the right thing!

Homer, listen, you don't know what my investors

are capable of doing to people who don't help them cover up

what they're capable of doing.

You don't know what I'm capable of doing.

Yoinking this doodad out of the computer hole.

(grunts)

COMPUTER: Internet scrub cancelled.

Idiot! You ruined it!

No, my daughter ruined it

by writing the most genuine and inspirational apology ever.

You should hear it.

I'm Homer Simpson, and I'm truly sorry.

Sorry, yet also grateful

for this opportunity...

MORGAN FREEMAN VOICE: In the annals of time,

there have only been five

truly great public apologies.

But on that day,

the words Lisa wrote, and Homer somehow read

to everyone in the world,

put those others to shame.

It was deeply soul-searching

and 100% effective.

Homer was forgiven by all

and beloved forever.

WOMAN: You failed us.

We're gonna do to you what we did to democracy:

irreparable damage.

The plan was too radical.

Too radical! No, no, no!

Radical...

Radical!

♪ ♪

And because of all of you, from here forward,

I will be the best Homer Simpson I can be.

There you have it-- a reminder that we could all be

a little more understanding of one another's humanity.

Up next,

dumb idiot has heart attack on treadmill.

Another plate of shrimp. J.K.

It's prawns.

(laughing)

I should have listened to you all along.

Yeah. Well, mostly, you just

shouldn't have left the dog in the car.

Yeah, agree to disagree.

But he and I have an arrangement.

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