* The Simpsons *
D'oh!
You sure look stupid in that green dress, Lis.
That's funny. I don't feel stupid.
Hey, everybody's wearing green.
Oh, no.
Pinch! Pinch! Pinch!
Happy St. Patrick's day, loser.
Ow! Quit it!
It's the wearin' of the green, Bart.
Pinch! Pinch! Pinch!
No one's pinching his legs.
Pinch! Pinch! Pinch!
Oh…
It's been St. Patrick's Day for hours,
and I'm still not drunk yet.
Oh, it's never gonna be 9:00.
Moe! Thank God, you're here.
We'd like to come in and drink, please.
We kicked down the back door
but then, there was a metal door.
Yeah, all right, listen up.
This is the busiest drinking day of the year.
Where are the designated drivers?
Beat it. I got no room for cheapskates.
Top o' the morning to ye on this gray, drizzly afternoon.
Kent O'Brockman live on Main Street
where today, everyone is a little bit Irish,
except, of course, for the gays and the Italians.
All right, then, move along.
Nothing to see here.
Show's over, folks.
Parades just bring out so many emotions in me…
joy, excitement, looking…
Mom, can I go buy one of those long, plastic horns?
Oh, Bart, we've bought those before,
and you always just throw them out the car window
on the ride home.
I get bored with them.
But that won't happen this time.
Beep! Beep! Coming through!
Hey, Notre Dame, move it or lose it.
Will the owner of the great big butt
please move it out of my face?
Hey, Ma, I'm on TV.
Hey, where's that weather chick?
This is some wicked party, huh?
Hey, have you seen Sully?
Get away from there.
Hey! I need that pencil!
Ladies and gentlemen,
what you're seeing is a total disregard
for the things St. Patrick's Day stands for.
All this drinking, violence, destruction of property…
are these the things we think of when we think of the Irish?
Hey, give me some room.
Watch your elbow, Seamus.
Hey, look, everybody, free beer.
Open your yaps, boyos.
Hey, what the…
Everybody…
everybody get naked.
Come on, don't be stuck-up.
It's going to be great.
Well, why not?
This party's just getting started!
Stop the celebration.
That small boy is drunk.
That's not right.
Look at that.
Yay, Bart!
Look at me.
I'm the prime minister of Ireland.
Hey, Homer, ain't that your kid on TV?
What are you looking at?
"What are you looking at?"
The innocent words of a drunken child.
Well, I'll tell you what we're looking at, young man…
a town gone mad…
a town whose very conscience was washed away
in a tide of beer and green vomit.
I'm going down to Moe's for a couple of beers.
- I'll come with you. - No! No more drinking.
I'm tired of looking like the world's worst mother.
Oh, honey, you're not the world's worst mother.
What about that freezer lady in Georgia?
But what's the solution?
Are we so bereft of ideas that we must revive
the antiquated notion of prohibition?
Channel six says yes.
Prohibition. Pfft!
They tried that in the movies
and it didn't work.
I predict this is the last
we'll be hearing about prohibition.
We want prohibition!
You can't seriously want to ban alcohol.
It tastes great, makes women appear more attractive,
and makes a person virtually invulnerable to criticism.
Oh, won't somebody please think of the children?
What kind of an example are we setting?
Ladies, please. All our founding fathers,
astronauts and world series heroes
have been either drunk or on cocaine.
Uh, uh, oh, oh, wait.
Lookee here.
Seems there's been a prohibition law
on the books in Springfield for 200 years.
It's just never been enforced.
Get out of here, old clerk guy.
There's also a law requiring ducks to wear long pants.
Wait a minute, let me see that.
Well, I'll be darned… long pants.
Read the other one, the non-duck one.
"…and spirituous beverages are hereby prohibited
under penalty of catapult."
Did you see this, Bernice?
Eh… Oh, my.
No, we're not worried.
Our customers buy Duff for its robust taste,
not its alcoholic content.
I predict our new alcohol-free Duff Zero
will sell even better than our previous brand.
Oh, yeah.
Well, that's the end of me.
♪♪
Dateline: Springfield.
With prohibition back in force
sobriety's peaceful slumber
was shattered by its noisy neighbor, the speakeasy.
Glad you're finally back in business, Moe.
Yeah, that was a scary couple of hours.
The suppliers of the illegal booze?
Gangsters running truckloads
of smuggled hooch all the way from Shelbyville
and John Law was helpless.
You didn't see nothing.
I don't know why people are always
bad-mouthing the mafia.
♪♪
Wa-hoo!
So!
Ah, geez. This looks bad.
Better turn on the old Wiggum charm.
Pervert!
Oh, boy, that sounded bad.
We demand you bring in a police chief
who will enforce the prohibition law.
Demand?
Who are you to demand anything?
I run this town.
You're just a bunch of low-income nobodies.
Election in November. Election in November.
What, again?!
This stupid country.
With rum-running hoodlums in the catbird's seat,
Springfield sent for the one man
who could clean up the town and shoot the gangsters…
Rex Banner.
Ow!
Hey, I was watching that and I was sitting there.
Rex Banner. I'm running this department now.
Wiggum, you're out…
suspended indefinitely.
Huh?
Tuck in that shirt!
Get those shoes shined!
Take that badge out of your mouth!
You're police officers.
What are you waiting for…
somebody to kiss you good-bye?
Well…
no, no, no. I guess not.
Wasting no time,
Rex Banner tore into the bootleggers
like a chippie tearing into a lobster.
How do you know you don't like bribes
if you've never taken one? Here.
Say, this is nice.
No! No bribes!
Okay, you win.
From now on, we'll stick to smuggling heroin.
See that you do!
At first, I thought prohibition
was a good thing.
People were drinking more and having a lot more fun.
But without beer, prohibition doesn't work.
Hey, hi.
Can I arrest any of you people for anything?
- No. - Ah, geez.
I don't have anything to do anymore.
With Banner around,
alcohol and crime are history in this town,
and so am I.
Now, don't say that!
Alcohol is a way of life.
Alcohol is my way of life,
and I aim to keep it.
Sounds like you have a plan.
Maybe I do, chief.
Maybe I do.
Come on, boy. Think of a plan.
I'm trying, Dad.
Kent Brockman at the now-closed
Duff bottling plant,
where a mysterious person in black
keeps a solitary vigil.
I've got it!
We're going out, Marge.
If we don't come back, avenge our deaths.
All right.
Whoa, bonanza!
Let's load it up before the rats regroup.
Right. Now remember:
Don't mention this to anyone…
not your mother, not Rex Banner,
not anyone.
Rex Banner… what a dope.
Yeah. Look at him trying to aim that stupid gun.
Hang on, son!
Dad, knocking over a gravestone is bad luck.
Really? I heard good.
What happened to you, Homer?
And what have you done to the car?
Nothin'.
I don't think it had broken axles before.
Before! Before!
You're livin' in the past, Marge.
Quit livin' in the past.
That's funny.
I used to be able to go down there.
Going bowling. Not back, avenge deaths.
Why do you have so many bowling balls?
Uh…
I'm not gonna lie to you, Marge.
So long!
Ah, rats! Another gutter ball!
Gee, Homer you sure do suck tonight.
Yeah, suck like a fox!
Here you go, barn. That'll be 45 bucks.
45 bucks?!
Well, this better be the best-tasting beer in the world.
You got lucky.
You see, boy, the real money is in bootlegging,
not in your childish vandalism.
Oh, so many wasted nights.
What's the matter, chief?
Yeah, you've barely touched your Banana Kaboom.
This isn't a very happy birthday for Rex Banner.
Hello, fishies!
Listen, rummy, I'm going to say it plain and simple:
Where'd you pinch the hooch?
Is some blind tiger jerking suds on the side?
Yes?
Wait a minute.
I forgot to make sure the coast was clear.
Ah, it's probably clear. Let's go.
Beer!
I can explain, Marge.
Please let me explain.
Oh, why won't let me explain?!
You're the one the papers have been talking about…
that mysterious "beer baron"
who's been supplying Springfield with alcohol.
How have you been getting away with this?
Well… and I can explain, remember?
I fill the balls with beer that I found at the dump
and then I bowl them and some underground pipes
take them into Moe's.
Homer, that's very clever.
- Huh? - Mom!
Well, it is. I've known your father since high school,
and this is the cleverest things he's ever done.
Besides, he's only breaking a silly, 200-year-old law.
It is silly, Marge.
And look at all the money I'm making.
Whoo!
Mom! Prohibition may be unpopular,
but it's the law, and we still have…
Go to your room, Lisa.
Open up, curly.
This is a raid.
A raid?! Curly?!
Um, all right, but, uh…
I don't know what you expect to find
in a, uh, simple, uh… neighborhood… pet shop.
Pet shop, eh?
Well, I just have one question:
What kind of pet shop
is filled with rambunctious yahoos
and hot jazz music at 1:00 a.m.?
Um…
uh…
the… best… damn… pet shop in town!
Yeah!
All right,
but you people remember:
Baby turtles and alligators
may seem like a cute idea for a pet,
but they grow up.
Let's go, boys.
Ow!
Those gears down there really hurt.
You're out there somewhere, beer baron,
and I'll find you.
No, you won't.
Yes, I will.
Won't.
Dateline Springfield.
The illusive beer baron
continued to thumb his nose at authorities.
Swaggering about in a garish new hat
he seemed to say, "Look at me, Rex Banner.
I have a new hat."
Hey, boy, get cracking.
Moe upped his order to 20 balls a night.
Uh, Dad…
Call me beer baron.
All the beer from the landfill is gone, beer baron.
We're out of business.
But I can't be out of beer.
I'm the beer baron.
Homer, my customers are sobering up,
and they ain't gonna stick around for the ambiance.
You got to get me more beer.
Sorry. I'm all out.
How about some turpentine or caulk?
Delicious caulk.
Look, find it, buy it, make it, I don't care.
Just get me some booze and fast.
Make it, eh?
Forty-two bathtubs, please.
You know, they're 50 for $3,000 today.
I said 42!
Now you're making your own alcohol?
That's more illegal than what you were doing before.
Remember, honey,
we're disobeying an unjust law here.
We're patriots.
Like… all those people in jail.
Who wants a bathtub mint julep?
Are you the beer baron?
If you're talking about root beer,
I plead guilt-didilly-ilty as char-didilly-arged.
He's not the baron, but he sounds drunk.
Take him in.
Are you the beer baron?
Yes, but only by night.
By day, I'm a mild-mannered reporter
for a major metropolitan newspaper.
Don't crack wise with me, tubby.
Tubby?
Oh, yes, tubby.
Hey, Banner, how's it hanging?
None of your business.
What on earth happened down there?!
One of the stills…
Uh, nothing, Marge.
I think it must have been that bean I had for dinner.
Ka-boom! Blam!
Oh, excuse me again, dear.
Homer, there's no point in pretending
you're making those noises.
Your homemade liquor is exploding again.
What, dear? Ka-blammo!
You made some money
and had the fun of being a wanted criminal.
Why not quit now while you're ahead?
Boom.
I'll be right back.
It's hot! Oh!
Oh! Oh! Oh!
Whoo.
I've thought about what you said, honey,
and I've decided to quit.
Oh, well, fun's over.
But I still have my wonderful money.
Stick 'em up!
Geez, what happened to you, Wiggum? You look terrible.
Never mind how I look.
You gonna give me the money or not?
Well, I don't think so.
You don't even have a trigger on that thing.
Yeah, I had to sell the trigger and most of the handle
to feed my family.
Come on, give me the dough.
I can throw this pretty hard.
Poor Wiggum.
I'll bet you really hate Rex Banner, huh?
Um… who?
The guy who took your job.
Oh, yeah.
More than anything in the world.
Hey, how would you like to show him up
by beating him at his own game?
I'm happy to report
that the flow of illegal liquor seems to have dried up.
Public drunkenness has ceased
and those mysterious liquor clouds
over Evergreen Terrace are gone.
People, Rex Banner has won your war against alcohol.
What about the beer baron?
I suspect he was just an invention of the media.
The idea that someone like that
could operate under my very nose is laughable.
Well, you all know what laughter sounds like.
We now go live to Evergreen Terrace
where I'm informed
that former police chief Wiggum has captured the beer baron.
They captured Homer?
Then the liquor-filled bowling balls traveled
through a network of underground pipes
finally emerging at a nearby speakeasy.
You forgot one thing, Wiggum.
Yeah? What's that?
I filled the balls with a funnel.
That was a very sweet thing you did for poor Wiggum.
But what's going to happen to you?
Oh, probably just a slap on the wrist.
"And he who shall violate this law
shall be punished by catapult."
Last time I help you.
Sorry. I thought you'd get a fine
or at most, three, four years in jail.
Hold it.
This machine is two centuries old.
Better test it first.
Okay. Go ahead.
Wait! Wait! You can't do this!
All my husband did was violate a law that doesn't make sense.
Now, I'll admit
car crashes and fistfights have been down recently,
but prohibition has cost us our freedom…
our freedom to drink.
Now hold on a minute, missy.
It's not up to us to choose which laws we want to obey.
If it were, I'd kill everyone who looked at me cockeyed.
Our laws are in place for a reason.
Send him back to mama, boys.
That was unexpected.
Well, reset the catapult, and let's get this over with.
Wait.
I've discovered more lines on the parchment.
It says that the prohibition law
which was passed here 200 years ago
was repealed 199 years ago.
Release the prisoner.
On behalf of the city, I'd like to apologize
and ask how long it will take for you
to flood this town with booze again.
Well, sorry.
I'm not in that business anymore.
Four minutes.
And so, one town's brief flirtation with prohibition
ended in a joyous remarriage to lady liquor.
Congratulations, Springfield.
We wish you the very best.
To alcohol…
the cause of and solution to
all of life's problems.
CAPTIONS ENHANCED BY ROUNDABOUT ENTERTAINMENT INC.