FADE IN:

We begin with an outside sh*t of the house.

Inside, Marge hums as she brushes her teeth.

MARGE: So how was the office birthday party?

It turns out Homer is right behind her.

HOMER: Oh, it was delightful.  The frosting on the cake was this thick.

He holds out two fingers and shows her the size.

HOMER: And Eugene Fisk -- my poor sucker of an assistant -- didn't know the fruit punch was spiked and he really made an ass of himself putting the moves on the new girl in Valve Maintenance. (laughs).

MARGE: Does this girl like him?

HOMER: I have to warn you, Marge.  I think the poor young thing has the hots for yours truly.

He taps her jokingly on the shoulder and chuckles.

MARGE: Homer. 

HOMER: Just keeping you on your toes, baby.

Homer stands on a nearby scale.  The arrow inside moves --- 239 pounds.

HOMER: Two hundred and thirty nine pounds!  Oh, I'm a blimp!  Why are all the good things so tasty?  From now on, exercise every morning.

He starts doing weak arm exercises when Marge grabs him around his neck.

MARGE: You're not a blimp, Homer.  You're my big, cuddly teddy bear.

They kiss.

DISSOLVE TO:

Bart looks at a fitness advertisement.  It shows a small, scrawny guy being transformed into a tough, muscular, fit guy in a before and after picture.

BART: Aw, baloney. 

He looks next a X-Ray TV glasses ad.

BART: Yeah, right.

Next up is a hyp-no Coin.

BART: Oh, give me a break.

He looks down at a "Genuine spy Camera" Ad.  A slogan beneath it says "Just like the C.I.A. uses!!!"

BART: Wow, cool, man!

He cuts the ad out.  He grabs a hammer and breaks his piggy bank (which already has cracks from previous beatings) to collect several coins.

He slides everything into an envelope, runs out, and drops it into a mailbox.

FADE OUT

FADE IN:

A sh*t of the house.  A subhead says "Six months later".

Inside, Homer gargles some kind of mouthwash in the bathroom.  He stands on the scale and looks down.  He spits out the mouthwash.

HOMER: Oh no!  Two hundred and thirty nine pounds?  I'm a whale!  Why was I cursed with this weakness for snack treats?

He looks at himself in the mirror.

HOMER: Well, from now on, exercise every morning, Homer.

Once again, he starts doing weird exercises when Marge walks in from behind.

MARGE: Ooh.  Don't strain yourself, dear.

HOMER: Good idea, Marge.

He stops.

HOMER: By the way, this Friday night I'm gonna be attending a little get together with the boys at work.  Eugene Fisk is marrying some girl in Valve Maintenance.

MARGE: Homer, is this some kind of stag party?

HOMER: No, no, Marge.  It's gonna be very classy.  A tea-and-crumpets kind of thing.

Homer begins shaving.

MARGE: Hmm.  Eugene Fisk.  Isn't he your assistant?

HOMER: No!  My supervisor.

MARGE: Didn't he used to be your assistant?

HOMER: Hey, what is this, the Spanish Inquisition?!

MARGE: Sorry, Homer.

CUT TO:

Bart and Lisa watching TV on the family couch.  Lisa reads a book as the doorbell rings.

BART: Uh-oh, it's the "fe-mailman".

LISA: Female carrier, Bart.

Bart opens the door.

BART: Lady, where's my spy camera?

BART + LADY MAILMAN: Where's my spy camera?

LADY MAILMAN: Every day for the last six months---

BART: Where's my spy camera?  Where is my spy camera?

BART + LADY MAILMAN: Where's my spy camera?  Where's my spy camera?!

LADY MAILMAN: Here's your stupid spy camera!

She shoves a small box into his chest.

BART: Oh.  Thanks, ma'am.

He shuts the door on her and begins opening the box on the floor.

BART: Whoa, man.  Look at the size of this thing.  I wonder if it really works...

He stares it and takes a picture of himself.  Looks fine.

BART: Cause I got a lot of spying to do.

He looks mischievously upstairs.

CUT TO:

Homer exercising in the bathroom.  Bart opens the door and snaps a picture.

HOMER: Bart!  What are you doing?

BART: Sorry, Dad.  The answer to that is top secret.

Bart runs out as Homer grumbles.  Bart proceeds to the parent's bedroom where a sound of a razor is heard.

He peeks in and takes a sh*t of Marge shaving her armpits.   Ugh.

MARGE: Ooh.  Oh, Bart.

BART: What?

MARGE: Go take some wildlife pictures or something.

CUT TO:

A bunch of bushes from which Bart emerges.  He takes a picture of a d*ad rat or another animal that has been run over and has tire tracks on it.

CUT TO:

Bart's room, where Bart has his shorts down and his camera behind him.  Lisa walks in.

LISA: Mom, Bart was taking a picture of his butt.

Bart quickly fastens his shorts as Marge walks in.

BART: Oh, sure.  Like I'm really gonna take a picture of my butt.

MARGE: Oh, stop it, you two.  And put on some nice clothes.  Since it's just the four of us tonight, we're having dinner at the Rusty Barnacle.

LISA: Yay, fried shrimp!

BART: Aw, mom, can't we just grab a burger at--?  Only four of us?  Who escaped?

MARGE: Your father.  He's having a boy's night out.

DISSOLVE TO:

Homer being poured a mug of beer.  Lenny, Carl, and a bunch of coworkers sit nearby.

Eugene's father makes a speech.

EUGENE'S FATHER: Just as I was asking myself "Where did my seven year old boy get the money for a father's day present?", I opened the box.  And inside was little Eugene's baseball glove.  He had given me the one thing that mattered most to him in the whole world.  Eugene, when I see you -- the one thing that matters most to me in the whole world -- married tomorrow, I'm going to know just how you felt that day.

EUGENE: I love you, Dad.

EUGENE'S FATHER: I love you, son.

The two hug.  Everybody continues drinking.  Smoke fills the air as well.

HOMER (bored): Where am I, the planet Cornball?

CARL: Hey, don't worry, things are gonna pick up once the entertainment gets here.

HOMER: Ooh, entertainment.

OTHER PERSON: Yes, sir.

Homer and Lenny clink their glasses.

CUT TO:

The Rusty Barnacle, where a waitress dressed like a pirate leads a couple to a table.

On the other side, the Simpsons sit with their pirate waiter.

WAITER: Ahoy, I spy the children's menu.

BART: Ahoy, this place bites.

MARGE: Bart.

WAITER: So what's it gonna be, me little bucko?

BART: Hmm, let's see.  This evening I shall go for the squid platter.

LISA: Ew.

BART: With extra tentacles, please.

MARGE: Oh, Bart.  Excuse me, sir, the party next door seems to be a little raucous.  Could you please ask them to quiet down a little bit?

WAITER: Aye, aye.

Bart fills out a service questionnaire.  He checks "Poor" for all the categories.

The waiter walks over to the loud room and walks in.  Inside are Homer and the rest of his buddies.

WAITER: Hey, try to keep it down, guys.  Okay?

HOMER: Hey, shut up.

GROUP (singing): Open the door and lie on the floor said Barnacle Bill the sailor.

Back at his table, Bart looks over at a sign above him that says "Cod Platter - $4.99.

BART: Hmm...

He re-arranges the letters so they spell "Cold Pet Rat".

The waiter sets a dish down for Lisa.

WAITER: Here you go.  There you are.  For the baby.

He sets down individual plates.

WAITER: And one squid platter, extra tentacles.

He sets the plate down, smiling.

Bart's face turns green in disgust.

MARGE: Bart, quit fooling around and eat your dinner.

LISA: Yeah, eat it, Bart.

BART: Ugh, may I please be excused for a minute?

MARGE: Okay, but don't dawdle.  Your food will get cold.

CUT TO:

Inside the office, where Carl stands near Eugene.  Both he and his father look depressed.

CARL: Okay, Eugene.  One last taste of bachelor freedom.

Lenny turns on a boombox and middle eastern music plays.

LENNY: Presenting, Princess Kashmir, queen of the mysterious East.

A stripper waltzes in and starts dancing for the men.  Everybody barks and cheers her on.

LENNY: Now this is what I call a party.

EUGENE'S FATHER: How do I tell you this, my boy?  We're in hell.

HOMER: Heh, heh, look at him squirm.

STRIPPER: You care to dance?

WORKER: She wants you, Homer!

LENNY: Go for it, Homer.

Lenny pushes Homer on top of the table as she giggles.  The two start dancing, Homer slightly nervous at first.

WORKER: Shake his buns.

CUT TO:

Bart walks out of the bathroom and hears the noises coming from the other room.

HOMER: I'm sorry, I don't usually laugh like this.

Bart peeks in and gasps.  Homer doesn't see him.

BART: Ay caramba.  Wow, man.

Bart takes out his handy dandy little camera and snaps a sh*t.

HOMER: Oh, this is the most fun I've ever had in my life.

FADE TO BLACK

FADE IN:

A sh*t of the outside of the Springfield Elementary School.

Inside, in a room barely lit by red light, MARTIN (the genius) stands in front of a crowd of people.

MARTIN: The meeting of the Future Photographers of America is now in session.  We would like to welcome our new member, Bart Simpson.

Everybody applauds.

BART: Whoa, people, people.  Don't applaud.  Let's get to work.

Bart performs several enhancing operations before he shows the picture to Martin.

MARTIN: My goodness.  Quite exciting.

STUDENT: Extremely sensual.

STUDENT 2: The subtle gray tones recall the work of Helmut Newton.

MARTIN: Who's the sexy lady, Bart?

BART: Beats me.  But the gay dancing with her is my pop.

ALL: Wow!

STUDENT 3: He brings to mind the later work of Diane Arbus.

MARTIN: Bart, I'd really appreciate a print of your masterwork.

STUDENTS: Yeah.  Me too.  Come on.

BART: Sorry, guys.  No can do.

STUDENTS: Oh.

Milhouse comes in from the side.

MILHOUSE: Come on, Bart.  You're gonna make me a print, aren't you?

BART: Will you swear not to let another living soul get a copy of this photo?

MILHOUSE: Ok.

BART: Cross your heart and hope to die?

MILHOUSE: Yep.

BART: Stick a needle in your eye?

MILHOUSE: Yep.

BART: Jam a dagger in your thigh?

MILHOUSE: Yep.

BART: Eat a horse manure pie?

MILHOUSE: Yep.

BART: Well, okay.

CUT TO:

Milhouse sits with another kid in the library.  He taps him with his elbow.

MILHOUSE: Psst, look what I got.

KID: Whoa, I gotta have a copy of that.

MILHOUSE: Sorry.

KID: Aw, come on.

MILHOUSE: Well, okay.

The two walk over the copy machine and Milhouse puts a coin in.  A copy slides out.

CUT TO:

The playground, where Bart hangs upside down on his feet. Another boy walks over.

BOY: Hey, Bart.  How come Milhouse gets a copy of your girlie picture and I don't?  I thought I was your friend too.

BART: Well, okay.

The two run over to the copy machine and make a copy.

CUT TO:

Inside a classroom, the boy hands over a copy to another classmate sitting in front of him.

Soon, there is a whole stack of copies being printed and a group of kids take one off of a pile.

CUT TO:

A father holds the picture in front of his son.

FATHER: Son, why are you wasting your time with this sleazy trash?

SON: Sorry, Dad.

The son walks away in shame as the father laughs.

FATHER: Wait till I show the guys at work this little doozy.

CUT TO:

The photo emerges out of a fax.  A man picks it up and speaks on the phone.

MAN (laughs): Mike, this is Al.  Just wanted to thank you on the "informative memo" you faxed me.  Whoops, here comes the boss.  Gotta go.

CUT TO:

Reverend Lovejoy sits at his desk when his assistant walks up.

ASSISTANT: Reverend Lovejoy, your wife confiscated this from one of the boys in the choir.

Lovejoy looks at it and gasps.

LOVEJOY: Why this sheep has strayed from my own flock.  His name's---

CUT TO:

Smithers and Burns in their office.  Smithers holds the same photo.

SMITHERS: Homer Simpson, sir.   A low-level employee in sector 7-G.

BURNS: Simpson, huh?  A family man?

SMITHERS: Wife and three kids, sir.

BURNS: I'd like to see our self-styled Valentino tomorrow morning, Smithers.

DISSOLVE TO:

A group of women in a gym stare at the picture taped to the wall.  It shows an arrow to Homer's belly and says: "Watch Out!!! Bathing Suit Season is Coming!".

They all snicker as Marge walks up.

MARGE: What are we laughing at?

She gasps and rips the picture off the wall.

CUT TO:

An outside sh*t of the Kwik-E-Mart.

Inside, Homer takes out a donut from a shelf.  He heads over to Apu.

HOMER: One glazed and one Scratch-N-Win, please.

APU: You look familiar, sir.  Are you on the television or something?

HOMER: Sorry, buddy.  You got me confused with Fred Flintstone.

Homer scratches his lottery card.

HOMER: Ooh, Liberty Bell!  Another Liberty Bell!  One more and I'm a millionaire.  Come on, Liberty Bell, please, please, please, please, please, please.

He scratches it and it turns out to be a grape.

HOMER:  Doh!  That purple fruit thing.  Where were you yesterday?

Another customer walks into the store.

CUSTOMER: Hey, hey, lookin' good.

HOMER: What do you want, pal?

A young boy on a skateboard calls him over.

SKATEBOARD BOY: Hey, mister.  Do dee do do do dee do do.

HOMER: Well, a "do dee do dee do" to you too, pint size.  Jeez, you got a lot of nutcases in here.

APU: Oh, sir, I've seen things you can't imagine.

A construction worker or plumber or something of that short yells to him as Homer leaves.

CONSTRUCTION WORKER: Hey, hey, hey!

HOMER: I hear ya, buddy.  Whew.  Full moon.

DISSOLVE TO:

Homer stops his car at a stoplight.  Nearby, a convertible stops and three girls start laughing at him and waving.

HOMER (chuckles): Hmm.  Still got it.

DISSOLVE TO:

Homer parks the car and turns off the engine.  He whistles as he makes his way to the front door.  He walks in and gaps as Marge slams the picture into his face.

MARGE: What is the meaning of this?!!

HOMER (stammering): Meaningless, Marge.  Don't even attempt to find meaning in it.  There's nothing between me and Princess Kashmir.

MARGE: Princess who?

BART: Hey, my photo.

MARGE + HOMER: Your photo?!

BART: Uh-oh.

HOMER: Why you little---!

MARGE: Why you big---!

She grasps Homer around the neck and chokes him.

MARGE: Bart, go to your room.

BART: I'm out of here.

HOMER: Look, Marge, honey, baby, doll.  I---.

MARGE: Homer, I don't even want to look at you right now.

HOMER: What are you saying, honey?

She points out to the street.

HOMER: But where will I sleep?

MARGE: My suggestion is for you to sleep in the filth you created!

HOMER: Would a motel be okay?

She slams the door shut on him.  Homer walks sadly away when the door opens behind him.

HOMER: Oh, I knew you'd come to your--.

A suitcase hits his face and Marge comes out.

MARGE: Here, if you have any soul left, you'll need these.

She hands him a box of tissues as she sheds a tear.  Clothes are strewn all around them.

MARGE: I know I will.

She goes back into the house and shuts the door.

Homer sheds several tears as we...

FADE TO BLACK

FADE IN:

An outside sh*t of Moe's.  Inside, Homer sniffles as he drinks a beer and talks with Moe.  A sign above him says "Ladies Night - Unescorted Ladies Drink Free".

MOE: What's the matter, Homer?  Hottest ladies' night in months and you're not even checking out the action.

HOMER: Oh, Moe.  My wife gave me the old heave ho because of some lousy picture.

MOE: What, this one?

He points to a copy framed on his wall.

HOMER: Doh!

Barney leans over.

BARNEY: So, uh, where are you staying tonight, Homer?

HOMER: Motel, I guess.

BARNEY: Oh no, no pal of mine is gonna stay in some dingy flophouse.

CUT TO:

Barney opens a door and he and Homer enter his apartment.  It's a complete mess.  There are clothes, wrappers, magazines, and empty beer bottles all over the floor.

BARNEY: If you get hungry in the middle of the night, there's an open beer in the fridge.

Homer looks out a window.

HOMER: Look, Barney.  See the row of tiny lights up there?  The middle one is my house.  Someone must have left the porch light on.

BARNEY: Hey, that's rough, pal.

Barney dials a telephone.

BARNEY: Hello, Marge.  You left your damn porch light on!

HOMER: Barney!

BARNEY: Homer's not made of money, you know.

Homer steals the phone.

MARGE: Who is this?

BARNEY: Don't listen to him, Marge.  He's--

MARGE: Oh, it's you.

She hangs up.

HOMER: Oh.

BARNEY: Homer, you're overwrought.  Why don't you unwind a little bit?  Party down the hall.  You know, this apartment complex caters to upscale young singles like me.

He burps loudly.

HOMER: No, Barn.  I just want to crawl into bed.

BARNEY: Suit yourself, Homer.  Nighty-night.

Barney walks out as Homer opens up his suitcase.  He sighs.

DISSOLVE TO;

Homer lying on a coach and a table, his eyes open.  Music and laughter come from next door.

DISSOLVE TO:

Marge and the kids eating breakfast in the kitchen.

LISA: I wonder when Dad's coming home.

Marge looks over at her, a slightly sad look in her eyes.

DISSOLVE TO:

An outside sh*t of the Nuclear Power Plant.

Inside, Homer drinks a cup of coffee.  Smithers comes on the announcement system.

SMITHERS: Homer Simpson.  Homer Simpson.  Report at once to Mr. Burns' office.

HOMER: Oh, no.

CUT TO:

Homer sitting in front of Burns in his office.

BURNS: What in blue blazes do you think you're doing, Simpson?

HOMER: What do you mean, sir?

Burns holds up the photo.

BURNS: I mean this.

Homer gasps.

BURNS: A plant employee carrying on liked an oversexed orangutan in heat.  This is a family nuclear power plant, Simpson.  Our research indicates that over 50 percent of our power is used by women.  I will not have you offending my customers with your bawdy shenanigans!

HOMER: It won't happen again, sir, I promise!  May I get out of your sight now?

BURNS: Just a second, Simpson!  Smithers, would you leave the room for a minute?

SMITHERS: Yes, sir.

Smithers walks out.

BURNS: Simpson, I am by most measures a successful man.  I have wealth and power beyond the dreams of you and your clock-punching ilk.  And yet, I've lead a solitary life.  The fair sex remains a mystery to me. You seem to have a way with women, a certain--how shall I put it -- animal magnetisme.  Help me, Simpson.  Tell me your secret.

HOMER: Uh, Mr. Burns, in spite of what everybody thinks, I'm no lover boy.

BURNS: Simpson, I'm asking you nicely.

HOMER: I don't really know, sir.

BURNS: Simpson!!

HOMER: Well, I wine them,  I dine them, bring them flowers, write them love poetry, sir.

BURNS: Of course.  It's simplicity itself.  I won't forget this, Simpson.  Now return to your work and tell no one of what transpired here.

DISSOLVE TO:

An outside sh*t of the house during night.  Inside, Bart and Lisa read a book and a magazine while Maggie sits nearby.

Homer sticks his head in the door.

HOMER: Anybody home?

LISA: Hi, Daddy.

BART: Welcome back, Dad.

They hug him.

HOMER: How's your mom?

LISA: Still kind of ticked off.

BART: Yeah, good luck, man.

HOMER: Oh, thanks, boy.

Homer peeks into the kitchen.

HOMER: Hello, Marge.  It's me, Homer.  Are you still mad?

Marge sits silently at the dining table.

HOMER: You are still mad.  Don't need to say it.  I'm your loving husband.  I can read you like a book.  I'll just have some milk.  Look, I'm not drinking out of the carton.  Come on, Marge!  Please forgive me!  I'm sorry!  I'm so sorry!

He gets down on his knees, his lips still covered with milk.

MARGE: Homer, you don't even know why you're apologizing.

HOMER: Yes, I do.  Because I'm hungry, my clothes are smelly, and I'm tired.

MARGE: I've been thinking, Homer, and you know what bothers me the most about this whole thing?  You thought Bart a very bad lesson.  Your boy idolizes you.

HOMER: Oh, he does not.

MARGE: Yes, he does, Homer.  And when he sees you treating women as objects, he's going to think that it's okay.  You owe your son better than that, Homer.

HOMER: So what should I do, Marge?

MARGE: Well, I think you should take Bart to meet this exotic belly person.  I want him to see that she's a real human being with real thoughts and real feelings.  I want Bart to see you apologize for the way you treated her.

HOMER: Okay, your wish is my command, my little---.

MARGE: Do it!

DISSOLVE TO;

An outside sh*t of Florence of Arabia club.

Bart and Homer walk through the main door (or curtain, rather) holding hands.  A MANAGER stands inside the club.

MANAGER: Princess Kashmir?  You must mean April Flower.  She's working over at the Girlesque.

BART: Oooh.

Bart is about to look inside when Homer yanks him back in.

CUT TO:

Homer and Bart in front of the Girlesque Club.  A sign says "Wet T-Shirt Nite - Mature Audiences Only".

Homer and Bart walk in and they come to face with another manager.

HOMER: See, I'm trying to teach my son here about treating women as objects.

MANAGER 2: Oh, that's a good idea.  Uh, but April's over at Foxy Boxing tonight.

Bart is yanked.

CUT TO:

Homer talking with another manager, from the third club.

MANAGER 3: Just let me say that it is an honor to have Springfield's number one swinger here with us to---

HOMER: Forget that.  I'm teaching my boy a lesson.  Is she here or not?

Bart desperately tries to get a look but can't.

MANAGER 3: Uh, try Mud City.

CUT TO:

An outside sh*t of Mud City.  Inside, Homer speaks on the phone.

HOMER: Marge!  Marge!  We're gonna try one more place, the Sapphire Lounge.  Bart!  I said look at the floor!

DISSOLVE TO:

Bart and Homer's car sliding up into the parking lot of the Ye Old Ramp Inn.

Inside, Bart and Homer walk along several performers.

PERFORMER: He really loves me---

HOMER: There she is.  Hey, Princess.  It's me, the guy from the snapshot.

He walks over to her.  She is dressed like an angel and quite embarrassed.

PRINCESS: Oh.  Oh, hi.

STAGE MANAGER: Places, ladies, places.  Can I get just a little cooperation?  It's show time.

HOMER: Look, I'm here because I want to apologize for treating you like an object.

PRINCESS: Uh-huh.

HOMER: I also want my boy to find out that you're more than just a belly.  I want him to meet the women behind all the spangles and glitter and find out that she has thoughts and feelings too.

PRINCESS: Oh, well, okay.  But can we make it quick?

BART: Nice to meet you, ma'am.

HOMER: Could you tell him a little bit about yourself?

PRINCESS: Well, uh, my real name is Shawna Tifton.

HOMER: Uh-huh.

Suddenly, the platform she's on begins rising.  This is some kind of play or performance in the inn...and Homer's part of it!

PRINCESS: My pet peeve is rude people.

HOMER: Uh-huh.

PRINCESS: And my turn-ons include silk sheets and a warm fireplace.

HOMER: Thank you very much, ma'am.  We'll be on our---.

He turns around and slips off the edge.  He hangs on with one hand.  It turns out to be a cage of some sort.

In front of the curtain, performing for the audience, is a singer.

SINGER:

I've heard them say so often

They can love their wives ooh

But I think that's just foolish

Men must have hearts...made of stone

Now my heart is made

Of softer stuff

Behind the curtain, Homer still hangs nervously.

BART: Cool, man.

PRINCESS: Get out of my cage.  My boss will freak out.

She begins trying to h*t his fingers with her shoes, hoping her hands will slip.

HOMER: Oh, no!

SINGER: A pretty girl can't look my way without...

HOMER: Don't!  Don't!

She continues trying to tap him.

HOMER: Don't!  No.

PRINCESS: Get out.  Get out of here.  Get your hands off.

She hits him in the face several times and he screams.

SINGER:

A new romance...

Oh, I could love a million girls

And every girl a twin...

The curtain rises behind the singer and the show begins with the females dancing.  The audience cheers wildly.

SINGER: Oh, I could love a Chinese girl, an Eskimo, or---

Princess finally hits Homer and he's sent falling down to the stage.  He crashes to the steps and rolls down, much to the surprise of the audience and the dancers.  Bart looks attentively at every h*t.

SINGER (silently): Get off of my stage, fat boy.

AUDIENCE MEMBER: Hey, it's the guy from the picture!

Everybody begins to wave and cheer for Homer.  Burns sits among them with two ladies by his side.

BURNS: Homer Simpson!

The singer chuckles.

SINGER: Sorry, partner.  I didn't recognize you at first.  Ladies and gentlemen, it's an honor to have a real swinging cat with us tonight.  Homer Simpson, party guy.

The singer hugs Homer as the audience applauds.  Bart claps silently on the sideline.

SINGER: Mr. Maestro...

The piano player starts to play.

SINGER:

Oh I could love a million girls

And every girl a twin

Yeah I could love a Chinese girl

An Eskimo or Finn

I could dig a Deutschland chick

A girl with golden curls

In fact I think that we could love...

HOMER: About a million girls!

The singer bows down to Homer and the girls start dancing around him.

HOMER: Heh.  Hey!  Ooh.  Look out.  Yeah.

BURNS: How does he do it, Smithers?

SMITHERS: He's a love machine, sir.

HOMER: Da da da, da da da da....

BART: Way to go, Dad.

Homer and Bart look into each other's eyes.

HOMER: Uh-oh.  Wait a minute.  Wait a minute.  Stop the music.  Quite, please.  I have something to say.  Quiet.

Marge's long hair is seen poking through the audience.

BURNS: You with the hair, down in front.

Marge's face is revealed.

MARGE: Oh, no.  He's sunk even lower.

HOMER: I have something to say to all the sons out there.  To all the boys, to all the men, to all of us.  It's about women and how they are not mere objects with curves that make us crazy.  No, they are our wives, they are our daughters, our sisters, our grandmas, our aunts, our nieces and nephews.  Well, not our nephews.  They are our mothers.  And you know something, folks?  As ridiculous as this sounds, I would rather feel the sweet breath of my beautiful wife on the back of my neck as I sleep than to stuff dollar bills into some stranger's G-string.

Princess starts crying from her position in the cage.

HOMER: Am I wrong?  Or am I right?

Everybody begins sniffling.

AUDIENCE MEMBER: My wife gets the cutest little thing, right here, when she smiles.

He points to a spot near his eye.

Another member takes out a picture of his baby.

AUD. MEMBER 2: This is my Suzie.

AUD. MEMBER 3: Oh, she's so cute.  Here's mine.

SINGER: You know, my mom sounded a little down the other day.  I'd better give her as call.

MARGE: Homer!

HOMER:  Marge.

She is in tears as they run at each other.  Homer swings her around and hugs her.  They kiss on the stage.

BART: All right, folks.  Show's over.  No more to see, folks.  Come on.  Only sick people want to see my folks kiss.

FADE OUT

CREDITS BEGIN

THE END
{"type": "series", "show": "The Simpsons", "episode": "01x10 - Homer's Night Out"}