Original subtitles

Here's your ticket to witness history.

Chuck Wildler breaking the pitching record

- for most batters knocked unconscious. - Mm-hmm!

Upper deck. We're so far away.

I wanted to see teeth fly.

Relax, nobody comes to Isotopes games.

We'll move into the empty seats behind home plate.

You'll be so close to the carnage,

you'll have flashbacks for the rest of your life.

What the heck?

Why is it so crowded?

And why are they all girls?

And why are they all checking

each other's teeth for lipstick?

- Do I have lipstick? - Is it gone?

First up, a young slugger batting .320

with a hat size of 11...

Tork "Lollipop" Williams.

Wildler hates this guy's head.

Your jumbotron is now under the control

of the Ashlee Starling Murmur Nation.

Why are you all standing at the same time?

That's not how the wave works. You've got to undulate.

Ashlee's album Squeeze Play drops now.

Featuring her hit single "Glitter!"

What the hell is an Ashlee Starling?

Ashlee Starling is a whiny pop singer

for whiny girls who love to whine.

Stop this stupid well-planned thing!

We missed it.

Childhood officially ruined.

Let's get a dozen hot dogs and head home.

Oh...

- What? - Do I have hot dog?

Am I good?

Oh, I should have hot dog in my teeth.

Sir, how long have you been a proud member

of the Murmur Nation?

Since never.

Ashlee Starling is a whiny pop singer

for whiny girls that love to whine. Right, boy?

I disagree.

Ashlee Starling's well-crafted songs

speak to the inner lives of teens and tweens alike.

- But you said... - I've never met this man.

If I knew him, I would teach him to love Ashlee

by sharing that one song about how you're beautiful

no matter what your face looks like.

Why are you talking like that?

Did one of them bite you?

Do you have any idea what you just mobilized?

You insulted Ashlee Starling

on camera.

I am looking into the eyes of a dead man.

Wha...?

Looking for the fifth caller to win all you can eat bread

at Yeasties Doughhouse and...

What? Oh... You again.

Not on my radio.

Glitter?

Eh, who's there?

I-I see you.

What the...

A seed cake?

Well, you know my motto:

even the worst cake is still cake.

Aah!

"Love" is in quotes.

What were you thinking?

You've made the nuclear power plant

a very dangerous place to work.

You have become the target of a highly organized,

newly-hormonal fan army.

Because of you, I have to wear this T-shirt.

In case anyone's wondering, I don't agree with Homer.

Whew. You don't know these fan armies.

They're all ruthless psychos.

Except for the BTS ARMY,

- who are just and pure of heart. - Mm-hmm.

Dad, if you ever want to breathe un-glittered air again,

you have to repent and devote your life to Ashlee.

Oh, you're blowing this out of proportion.

Everything's gonna be f-f...

Unrelated.

I got glitter in every fold,

crack and wedge.

I really need the comforting burn

of Flaming Hot Oreos.

Oh, God.

No!

We did it. We have broken him.

You sure you're cool with this?

Totally. My dad has to pay

for what he said about Ashlee.

Great job, Murmur Nation. We've got D'oh-boy on the ropes.

I feel bad for the ropes.

We couldn't have made it this far without you, Lisa.

I'm doing it for Ashlee. I'm a hardcore Starling fan.

She encourages girls everywhere to speak truth to power

and never date John Mayer.

But selling out your own dad?

That is Stone Cold Creamery, and I'll take two scoops.

I love my dad, but you guys are my besties.

I've never used the plural

of bestie before.

Marge, did you get the paper?

Once again, Marge is out living it up at the grocery store.

Ooh, lawn burger.

Mm?

The mothership.

Mm...

Oh!

I'm still waiting on cheese fries.

Just as I thought,

Ashlee what's-her-face.

I'm not Ashlee.

Aah! What's your face?

I'm pop sensation, U.N. AmbassaDiva

and lip gloss spokesmouth,

- Echo. - Mm?

I had my name legally changed to do that.

I hear the birdbrain fans of Murmur Nation

have been giving you trouble.

I haven't had a single day's sleep at work.

Miss Ashlee and I have the standard megastar feud.

We released dueling diss tracks then diss sketches on SNL.

We both diss-dated Pete Davidson.

That guy's got big diss energy.

I've always believed the frenemy of my frenemy

- is my ene-friend. - Obviously.

Why don't we team up and clip some Starling wings?

I have my own fan army.

The Echolaliacs.

Hmm... An eye for an eye.

Everyone wins!

Let's do it.

Oh, careful...

'Sup, Books.

Ooh, looks like you're making a glitter bomb.

Don't be ridicu...

lous.

Look, I know you're part of the army

that's driving dad bananas.

- I want in. - No way.

You don't believe in the power of music

and weaponizing breakups.

Lisa, I have spent years

thinking of ways to screw with dad,

and they're all right here.

Hmm. Skunk vendors,

atomic whoopee cushions.

This is exactly what we need.

But why would you help us?

Because, for the first time,

you have something I want: an army.

I can finally bring my wildest

prank dreams to life on a grand scale.

Like this. I call it

the Alley Oops.

Okay, as soon as the Fat Lebowski

sticks his fingers in the ball, they'll be Krazy-Glued in

and he'll bowl himself down the greased alley

right into the waiting pool of garbage juice.

The pool's in place.

We drained every dumpster in town.

- Yes! - Got him.

Whoa. What's happening?

Oh, God! My fingers seem to be...

great at bowling.

- He must be on to us. - Abort!

- Everyone back to HQ. - Go. -But quietly.

My mom's got an Herbalife thing.

Hm?

Homer Simpson is now

under the protection of my Echolaliacs.

Echolaliacs.

They're smoke bombing us

with her signature scent,

Reverb by Echo.

My lungs!

Your dad has made an alliance with the Echo fan army.

Maybe we should leave him alone.

No. We can't back down.

Ashlee isn't just a singer we like.

She's the photo in our locker.

She's our one and only Google Alert.

She's the tattoo I've been designing

for when I turn 18.

We aren't just fans of Ashlee,

we are Ashlee!

We are Ashlee!

Lis, are you really gonna whip up these psychos

into a full-fledged fan war?

- Yeah. - Cool.

You psychos heard my sister. It's war.

D'oh!

The winner is Ashlee Starling.

- Yoink! - Oh!

Huh?

Ew, carrot.

Glitter war is sparkly hell.

Mrs. Simpson, are you proud of what your husband

- has done to this town? - No.

The thing I hate most about armies,

fan or otherwise, is the mess.

I love my husband, but I disagree

with him about Ashlee.

I listened to one of her albums. It was great.

She sure knows which of her boyfriends were bad for her.

All of them.

You heard it here first. Ashlee Starling is great,

but not as great as BTS or their fans,

- who are sane and perfect. - Mm-hmm.

I got the family size.

This'll make enough slime to fill his toilet

and his secret toilet.

Maybe we could work in

Tabasco toilet paper.

- Whoa, that's messed-up. - Thanks.

I'm learning from you.

This has been really great.

Who would have thought that you and I could connect

on such a deep level?

- You're out of the group. - What?!

Yeah. Mackenzie said you weren't excited enough to meet her dog.

But-but who names their dog Greg?

That's a man name.

And why didn't you stand up for me?

Meh, sheroes before bros.

- I'll tell dad everything. - If you do,

then I'll show him your little notebook of pranks.

Dad would be so surprised to learn that the handsome pills

he's been taking are actually

the dog's heartworm medication.

Oh...

It's the Wingmen!

Ashlee Starling's live-in aerialists.

Oh!

Aah!

What? What happened?

Ashlee Starling wants to have dinner with me.

Aah!

She sent a dress for me to wear.

Whee!

"Hope this fits you, Marge"?

It's for me?

She must have heard me tell Kent Brockman

that I listened to her song once.

What? I mean...

I have been a very dedicated fan

since I was four,

but you... you just made one comment.

Good for you.

I'm having dinner with a famous person.

I'm team Sparrow.

It's Starling!

As a great man once said, "Haw-haw."

I can't believe you're having dinner with my nemesis,

after all the handsome pills I take for you.

That's my ride.

Hello, Marge.

- I'm Ashlee Starling. - I know.

We hired a look-alike of you for Lisa's birthday.

You're taller. She had bigger boobs.

Ooh, thank you.

Ooh, wow!

It's my own line of sparkling whiskey.

Mmm, yum.

Mmm, mmm.

Look at your sweet family.

I'm sure your husband

- is perfect. - -Stop it!

Homer is far from perfect.

Really? Tell me everything.

Mmm, ooh.

Ashlee said the funniest thing at dinner.

No one wants to hear about your thrilling night

with a vengeful pop diva.

Lisa, sweetie, delight us

with one of your little stories about how the planet

is choking on plastic.

Don't "sweetie" her.

She's the one behind those Murmur Nation

attacks on you.

Lisa. Wh...

But you're the one kid I had on purpose.

Well, Bart was part of it, too, and he doesn't even like Ashlee.

He did it just for the fun of torturing you.

You?

The person I would most suspect?

I never could have seen it coming.

Kids, how could you do that to your father?

What? You're the worst betrayer of all.

Dad, you should see the video Ashlee just dropped

after her night of girl talk

with Mom.

That last one is not true.

I hover 'cause I'm afraid of being flushed.

Oh, my God.

Ashlee took the things I told her

in new-friend confidence

and made it into a bad boyfriend song.

This has been quite the morning.

But I'm most disappointed in you, Maggie.

Mm? Eh?

Evil triumphs when good babies do nothing.

I'm leaving.

Homer? What happened? Aw.

I can't believe they would do this to me.

Hey, could I use

your billion-dollar entertainment complex

to produce a diss track to take them all down?

You should be careful with that.

When my dermatologist wouldn't fly to Japan

to remove a culturally insensitive mole,

I hit him with my single

"Mole Check, Soul Check."

It destroyed him.

Do you want to do that to your family?

No. I love them.

Homer, music isn't just for dissing people.

Wha...?!

Why don't we make a video that tells your family

how much they hurt you?

An "I've been dissed" track,

- if you will. - I will.

It's been three days.

Dad's never stayed mad this long.

Maybe we should run the can opener.

He always comes when he hears that.

I tried that already.

Tomorrow, we'll start calling theme park jails.

- Homie! -Dad! - Where you been?

- Hmm? - Hmm.

Breakfast and betrayal.

Pancakes bitter in my mouth,

yet I ate seven.

You sent an army

against those who are me.

You three took.

Three-took,

the opposite of for-give.

Yet, I forgive.

To stop this war,

we don't need a grand gesture.

We don't need to make a stand.

We just need to sit down together.

I'm sorry I betrayed you.

We're all sorry Lisa betrayed you.

Mm.

Sorry! Accident.

Forgot where I put them all.

There's probably more.

That's gonna happen for a while.

Mr. Simpson,

the Murmur Nation has decided to stop attacking you.

My video made you think, huh?

No. It was super cringe,

like watching two teachers make out.

I understand. Been a pleasure doing war with you.

May psychotic super-fandom always lend meaning

to your otherwise anonymous existence.

Hmm.

It's crazy that I believed in someone

so much that I got swallowed up in groupthink.

I know. So scary.

Oh, my God, we're late for church!

I'll get nice, crisp dollars for the donation basket.

Shh.

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