Original subtitles

♪ The Simpsons ♪

[bell rings]

[burps]

[horn blows]

[screams]

-[horn honks] -[yelps]

D'oh!

[screams]

How are you just sitting there?

Your mom hit me with her car!

She smashed me through a solid oak door!

How could you not see me in the garage?

I was running away and screaming in terror! [panting]

There's wood everywhere in me!

And why the hell was Maggie in the front seat?

[Bart] Hey, everybody, look what we got.

[Lisa] A dog!

Something to share our love. And frighten prowlers.

What's his name?

Number 8. [stammers] I mean, Santa's Little Helper.

Look at him. He's just a little mister.

I'm gonna love you and smooch you and use you as a pillow.

[Homer, Bart] Yeah!

And play with you and ride you to school and sic you on my enemies.

[Homer, Lisa] Yeah!

And feed you healthy food, and give you plenty of exercise

and teach us all lessons about responsibility.

Yeah!

Absolutely, Marge. The whole family will pitch in and…

Oh, my God, it's your first Christmas. Here, boy, have a gingerbread house.

[laughing] He loves it!

[Marge] Family meeting.

Why is the dog wearing a swim diaper?

It's too cold to take him outside.

And he loves it.

[Homer, dog burp]

[Marge] Family meeting.

So now he's eating at the table?

He can't eat under the table because that's where he threw up his waffles.

Watch this.

Gobble, gobble.

[laughs] He loves it.

[groans]

Family meeting.

Family?

[laughing]

Oh, it's Mom. Back up, back up, back up!

[all] He loves it!

Nothing calms me down like making a fresh batch of ambrosia salad

with plenty of grapes.

And a plunk of mayo to make my "day-o."

[gasps]

No! No, no, no, no, no! Bad boy!

[gasps] Wait.

Alexa, are grapes toxic to dogs?

[Alexa] What the hell did you do, lady?

You gotta help my dog.

Take a number. We'll be with you as soon as possible.

But he ate a whole ambrosia with grapes.

What the hell did you do, lady?

-Code purple! -[alarm blares]

Get me 30 ccs of Plastimin, four heliostic probes,

and the most ultra-realistic, gory-looking stomach pump we've got.

Where's the nice, mousy intern who always maintains her youthful optimism

in the face of constant trauma?

That would be me. [chuckles] May I say--

Shut up! We have a greyhound to save.

Who's a good boy? You're a good boy.

Cram that tube down his throat!

-Mrs. Simpson. -Yes?

I need you to answer me honestly.

How many grapes did you put in that ambrosia?

The recipe calls for two dozen.

Twenty-four? You gave him 24 grapes?

But one rolled under the refrigerator.

Oh. Thank God. Then we got 'em all.

We got 'em all!

[all] Whoo!

Your pup is going to be just fine.

Oh! Thank God.

If you'll excuse me,

I have to go to a quiet room and cry because of what you did.

Ambrosia!

There's my little mis-- Oh.

Hi, my name is Adrienne. I'm the staff nutritionist and trainer.

You want your dog to live a long time, don't you?

You betcha.

Then he'll need to lose a lot of weight.

He's what we in the canine wellness field call, "Damn, that dog's fat."

The best way to get a greyhound back in shape is to get his diet under control,

and then through agility training, and maybe even competitions.

Ooh, I save videos of those.

Let's see how you do, boy. Follow me.

Maybe this isn't for him.

Okay. Straight talk, your dog is chonky, but he doesn't have to become a chonkster.

If you sign him up for my program, we can make sure he's around for a long time.

Let's do it.

[dog barks]

[♪ "Far From Over" plays]

[cheering]

We won again.

Good job, boy. Here, finish my hot dog.

No! He has to stay healthy.

He qualified for the nationals in Philadelphia.

A trip to Philadelphia?

I can see where the Founding Fathers signed the Constitution.

And I can crack the other side of the Liberty Bell and finish the job.

Philadelphia, my kinda town.

Throwing ice balls at Santa Claus, climbing greasy streetlamps.

The city where Lenny Dykstra learned to be crazy,

where every steak is cheesed and every tush is pushed.

Even though I've never been, I feel like I was born there and I never left.

But I'm not gonna die there. Oh, no. Not Homer Simpson.

You'll see. I'll show 'em all!

I guess what I'm trying to say is the Simpsons are going to Philadel--

[blows whistle] Sit!

This dog is only healthy because I saved him from your dangerous pampering.

So I'm keeping him far away from you bad influences.

The Simpson is going to Philadelphia. "Simpson."

[whining]

[♪ upbeat music plays]

Yo, welcome to the Hotel Philadelphia.

We offer 24-hour room service from our full Boyz II Menu.

And if you need a water or any other jawn,

just ring the Patti LaBelle, and we'll send a jabroni right up.

So Philadelphia. Are the beds made of cream cheese?

The cream cheese ain't got nothing to do with this town!

It's just a name! Have some class!

Now, would you like the Silver Linings Playbook Room or the Fresh Prince suite?

Fresh Prince. We can chill out, max, and relax all cool.

-Right, little mister? -[barks]

And where would you like me to put the big mister?

[Homer groans]

Are we there yet?

You stowed away for an 18-hour drive?

Ugh. Just send him to the room.

Come on, boy.

And I thought I'd surprise you by coming along and supporting you

and our furry fellow as he tries to win the Kentucky Derby.

I swear I'm only here for you.

[grunts, screams]

What is that paper?

Paper? [gulps] What paper?

Homer, release.

"Awesome things for me to do in Philadelphia.

Eat cheesesteaks, hoagies, pretzels, water ice.

Rip off a piece of Jason Kelce's beard."

[groans] How is a dirtbag tour of the city supporting the dog?

And what's with these batteries?

To throw at people I don't like.

They do that here instead of punching people they don't like,

but they do that too.

[growls]

Aw, he loves… it.

[Marge grunts]

We have a competition to win.

If you really wanna support me,

stay the hell away and don't screw this up for us.

[groans]

[trainer] This is it.

Everything we've been working for, it's all led to this.

The first of five qualifying rounds.

Oh.

[commentator] Next up is a newcomer from Springfield, USA.

Santa's Little Helper. There he goes!

With a terrific time, he jumps into the arms of the woman

who made it all possible, his beloved trainer Adrienne Gesstar.

I drove him here.

I don't even wanna do any of this stuff now.

Being told I'm selfish takes all the fun out of only thinking about myself.

[knocks on door]

Mr. Simpson, we urgently need to speak to you

on a matter of grave historical importance.

[yelps] Nerds!

No, no, my colleagues and I

are the Historians of America's Great Inventors and Enlightened Men.

[Homer] Whoo. H.O.A.G.I.E. Men.

It's true, and one of the most confounding puzzles in American history

can be solved by your dog.

It's all explained in this simple diagram.

Oh, interesting. I see. You three are nutjobs.

It is imperative that we locate your dog.

He is a national treasure, or to be more technical, canus ex machina.

The dog's not here, nutjobs. He's with my wife at the…

Homer, think. You can't let these nutjobs find Marge at the dog show

or they'll ruin everything she worked so hard for.

Wait, wait, this is my chance to actually support my wife just like I lied I would!

Um, my wife and dog are sightseeing.

Tell you what, you fill me in on the highly plausible things

your perfectly normal brain is telling you about my dog

while we look for them at all these amazing places.

250 years ago, Philadelphia was home to America's greatest statesman, diplomat,

and inventor, Benjamin Franklin.

Wow. Amazing.

-But the thing about Benjamin Franklin-- -Who's that?

We just told you.

He played for the Sixers?

He had another talent that only we know about.

He was a thief.

While pretending to negotiate the Treaty of Paris,

Franklin stole millions in gold from the Palace of Versailles

and smuggled it home in the brassieres of his various mistresses!

He only trusted one member of his inner circle

to help hide his ill-gotten treasure, his beloved greyhound!

"But wait, Benjamin Franklin never had a greyhound," you say?

-I do? -Well, that's where you're wrong!

Franklin hid his connection to this amazing breed until we discovered this.

It's true. Your dog is a direct descendant of Franklin's greyhounds,

and he will lead us to this very key,

which will unlock the vault containing Franklin's millions,

a vault hidden somewhere here in the City of Brotherly Love!

Um, Pittsburgh?

[historians sigh]

I'm proud of you, boy. You worked so hard today.

Hey, let's have some fun with other doggies.

[dogs barking]

No, no, no. No time for play. We have to stay focused.

Oh, you're right. Of course.

Come with me.

We're going to a very special place for only the most important dogs.

Okay, you got your picture in front of the Rocky statue.

Now let's do the other ones.

Look, Homer, your dog is the key to finding a treasure

that the human mind can barely comprehend.

-Do you understand that? -I understood "barely comprehend."

Take us to your dog!

Yeah, look, nerds,

as much as I love to keep humoring you, here's the truth.

You're crazy. There's no treasure. My dog's just a regular dog,

and I've spent the whole day smartly keeping you away from him and my wife.

There they are!

[gasps] Canus ex machina. Hoagies, roll!

Um, Adrienne, why did you take us to a colonial firefighting exhibit?

Marge, do you know who started the first volunteer fire company in America?

-It was-- -Benjamin Franklin.

-You. -You.

-Them? -Us.

-Marge! -Homer!

These crazies think our dog is George Washington's grandson.

I was trying to keep them away from you.

Well, you did a great job.

That's very kind, but no, I didn't. I failed.

Hey, can I get your help? These lunatics keep stalking me.

We're not lunatics.

That dog is sacred! He's going to lead us to Franklin's treasure!

Get out of here, you dirts.

Ugh. Dog people, am I right?

[gasps] No. No, no, no, no. Not our nation's first fire hydrant.

We don't pee on history!

But, Marge, his pee is history.

Benjamin Franklin bred his greyhounds to have a special urinary enzyme

that can reveal secret messages he wrote as to the location of his gold.

Oh, my God, you're the same amount of crazy as those other crazies.

Am I?

[Marge] "Hasten to the first sewer and west,

so with the lightning key be blessed."

That's where we'll find the key to Franklin's gold.

Let's go, boy.

Adrienne, you're not going anywhere with my dog.

Betray!

He chose her?

Oh. [cries]

Adrienne!

Santa's Little Helper chose

that treasure-hunting canine nutritionist over me.

I want my dog back.

Okay, Marge, we're gonna get him back.

If we just solve this piddle riddle, we'll know where Adrienne took him.

We'll never figure this out.

Yeah, we're not smart like Lisa or evil like Bart.

[gasps] Family meeting!

Having fun without us?

Oh. That's where Dad is.

Smarty, Criminal, figure out what this message means.

"Hasten to the first sower and west, so with the lightning key be blessed"?

It's pronounced "sewer," genius.

[gasps] No, it's not.

Sewer, as in one who sews. It must mean Betsy Ross,

who sewed the first American flag in Philadelphia in 1777.

That scheming trainer must be headed to Betsy Ross's house.

[gasps] That's at 239 Arch Street.

How'd you know that?

I passed it a bunch of times today while trying to find M. Night Shyamalan's grave.

But in a crazy twist, he's still alive,

and I know just how to get us there.

Our next stop on our Segway through Philadelphia history is a reenactment

of the Battle of Broad Street, also known as the Super Bowl 52 Riot.

And now I take you all the way back to the year 2018.

And Eagles win!

[blows horn]

-[clamoring] -Patriots suck!

[♪ upbeat instrumental music plays]

We have to go through that Mummers Parade.

No time for a set piece. Double back.

This is it. Where's the dog?

[dog barking]

The bark's coming from the direction of this warm 18th-century lever

that looks like it was recently pulled.

[both scream]

[coughs]

Homer?

Stuck. Too fat for colonial tubes.

Ah. Just in time, Marge. Now that my dog has led me here,

he'll retrieve the very key to unlock Franklin's lost treasure.

You see? This is what I've been training him for.

Time for the real dog show.

The key! [laughs] You found it! Come!

If he takes another step on that thing, it'll collapse.

Stay.

Come.

Stay.

Sorry, Marge, but I'm the one with the whistle.

[inhales deeply]

Ow! What was that?

A D-cell, otherwise known as a Philadelphia handshake.

Game over, lady.

[scoffs] Nice try.

No!

Santa's Little Helper, I'm your mommy. I introduced you to bone broth.

The whole family wanted to dye you green for St. Patrick's Day,

and I'm the one who said no.

We need you alive. So I'm begging you, just stay.

[gasps] That's my boy.

I'm not leaving here without that key!

[yelps]

[screams] Go, Birds.

Little mister, where are you?

I don't think he made it.

This is my fault.

All this crazy diet and training was because I wanted him to live longer.

And now he's gone.

I was so stupid. Having any pet is stupid.

When we got Santa's Little Helper,

we didn't just say, "Yes, I'd like to rescue this dog."

We said, "Hi. I volunteer to have my heart ripped out of my chest someday,

because no matter how much time we get to have together, it will never be enough."

[cries]

He's looking down on us from above.

No, he's not. I never got him christened. He's in doggy limbo.

No. Real above.

He made it! Now we just have to get him down.

You just leave that to me.

Gobble, gobble!

[crashing]

Let's get you home. You already have the key to my heart.

Who could possibly want anything else?

[exclaims, sniffing]

-[barks] -Yeah, sure, you can drive.

He loves it.

[♪ sad music plays]

[♪ vocalized version of theme music plays]

Shh.