This is the transcript for Treehouse of Horror
Transcript[]
(On stage, Marge appears from behind the curtain.)
Marge: (ahem) Hello everyone. You know, Halloween is a very strange holiday. Personally, I don't understand it. Kids worshiping ghosts, pretending to be devils, things on TV that are completely inappropriate for younger viewers. Things like the following half hour. Nothing seems to bother my kids. But tonight's show, which I totally wash my hands of, is really scary. So if you have sensitive children, maybe you should tuck them into bed early tonight instead of writing us angry letters tomorrow. Thanks for your attention.
"The Simpsons Halloween Special"
(During a thunderstorm, the camera pans across Springfield Cemetery. The headstones: "Ezekiel Simpson", "Ishmael Simpson", "Cornelius V. Simpson", "Garfield", "The Grateful Dead", "Casper the Friendly Boy", "Elvis", "Your Name Here", "Paul McCartney" and "Disco".)
(Passing creepy trees with one a yowling cat, the camera pushes in to the Simpsons' home, panning upward toward the treehouse, where Lisa's hairstyle is seen in the window. Down below, a sheeted ghost appears. It's Homer carrying a bag of treats.)
Homer: Oh, what a haul this year. I love Halloween.
(As he ruffles the bag, Homer notices a light in the treehouse.)
Homer: Wait a minute. Let's see what the kids are up to.
(In the treehouse, Bart Lisa and Maggie are gathered together telling ghost stories. Lisa hold a flashlight under her face while telling one.)
Lisa: And the policeman on the other end of the phone said, "We have traced the call. It's coming from the floor below you! Get out of the house!" But it was too late. End of story.
Bart: (bored) Yawn. I heard that when I was in third grade. It's not scary.
Lisa: Is too.
Bart: Is not.
Lisa: Is too!
Bart: Is not!
Lisa: Is too!
Bart: Is not!
Lisa: Fine! Then you tell one scarier.
Bart: Flashlight, please. (Lisa hand Bart the flashlight and shine under his face) Here's a story that REALLY scarifying.
Lisa: Oh, brother.
Bart: I call it...
(Scene fades to a house on the hill with moving trucks.)
"Bad Dream House"
(The mover finishes moving the Simpsons' stuff into their new mansion; Bart and Lisa set to unpacking.)
Mover: That's all of it. Sign here.
Homer: There you are, my man. And a dollar for yourself.
Mover: A buck. (mutters) I'm glad there's a curse on this place.
(The Mover leaves, leaving Homer perplexed on what his just heard.)
Homer: Huh? Well, it's all ours.
Marge: I still can't believe how inexpensive it was.
Homer: Motivated seller, Marge.
Marge: Well, he must have been motivated. Prime location, 18 rooms, moat. We shouldn't be able to afford this.
Homer: So, we got a good deal for once. Quit fighting it.
Marge: It just seems too good to be true.
Lisa: Ow! Mom, Bart threw a book at me!
Bart: Did not!
Lisa: Did too!
Bart: Did not!
Lisa: Did too!
House: Get out.
Marge: What on earth was that?
Homer: Probably just the house settling.
Marge: This kitchen certainly could use a woman's touch. Homer! What's this in the corner?
Homer: I don't know.
Lisa: It looks like a vortex. A gateway into another dimension
Homer: Ooh, a vortex. Catch! Hey, pretty slick.
Lisa: (reading the note) "Quit throwing your garbage into our dimension."
Bart: Mom, Dad, help!
House: Get out.
Homer:
Lisa
Marge
Homer
Marge
Homer
Marge
Homer
Marge
Homer
House
Bart
House
Homer
Marge
House
Marge
Homer
Marge
Lisa: Mom, dad, look! It's an ancient Indian burial ground.
Bart: Man, this place has everything!
Homer: An ancient Indian what?
Homer: Mr. Ploot? Homer Simpson here. When you sold me this house, you forgot to mention one little thing: YOU DIDN'T TELL ME IT WAS BUILT ON AN INDIAN BURIAL GROUND! NO, YOU DIDN'T! Well, that's not my recollection. Yeah? Well, all right, goodbye! (Angrily hangs up) He says he mentioned it five or six times.
Marge
Homer
Marge
House
Marge: SHUSH! SHUT UP! QUIT TRYING TO PUSH US AROUND! STOP SAYING THOSE HORRIBLE THINGS AND SHOW SOME MANNERS! Look at me. I've never been so angry. My hands are shaking.
Homer: Better than your eyes bursting. Ew.
Bart: Do it again!
House: What?
Bart: Make the walls bleed.
House: No!
Bart: Hey, man, we own you. Let's see some blood!
House: I don't have to entertain you.
Bart: Come on, man, do it. Do the blood thing. Come on, do it. Do it, do it, do it, do it, do it!
Lisa
House: Leave me alone.
Marge: Don't talk to her like that.
House: Hey, listen, lady--
Marge: Oh, don't call me lady. My name is Marge Simpson, this is my family and we're not going anywhere We're going to have to live together, so you better get used to it. Please.
House:
Marge: Sure.
House: Hmm. Life with the Simpsons. What choice do I have?
Homer: Wow!
Bart: Bitchin'!
Lisa: It chose to destroy itself rather than live with us. You can't help but feel a little rejected.
(The family trudge down the street into the night)
(End of Act I)
(At the treehouse, Homer sits at the branch, listening and shuttering from the story. Inside.)
Lisa: That wasn't scary at all, Bart.
Bart: Oh, yeah? Well, how about THIS SEVERED FINGER?!
Bart: Ew, baby spit!
Bart: Well, that last story was just a warmup for this macabre tale which I call...
"Hungry are the Damned"
(The Simpsons are at the back patio having a barbecue.)
Marge: Homer, all these flies.
Homer
Bart: Cool, man!
Homer: Your burgers are getting cold guys-- Holy moly.
Kang
Marge
Kang
Bart
Kang
Lisa
Homer
Serek
Marge: Well, thank you very much, mister--?
Serek:
Marge: Ew.
Lisa: Fried shrimp.
Bart: Sloppy joes.
Homer: Smothered pork chops
Marge: Look, Homer! Radish rosettes. These are hard to make. They're a very advanced race.
Kang
Lisa
Homer
Serak: Your wife is quite a dish.
Homer: Ooh, thanks.
Kang
Bart: You get HBO?
Kang
Bart
Homer
Kang
Kodos
Marge
Kang: Dinnertime.
Lisa
Kodos
Homer: Ooh, a feast.
Marge
Kang
Serak
Homer: Tell us more about this feast.
K
S
K
S
Lisa
Homer
K
Homer
K
Homer
K
L
K
K
K
K
Lisa
K
S
K
Serak: You aren't the only beings who have emotions, you know!
Kang: We offered you paradise. You would have experienced emotions a hundred times greater than what you call love. And a thousand times greater than what you call fun. You would have been treated like gods and lived forever in beauty. But now, because of your distrustful nature, that can never be.
Marge: (aside to Homer) Mmmm. For a superior race, they really rub it in.
Lisa: There were monsters on that ship, and truly we were them.
Marge: Lisa, see what we mean when we say you're too smart for your own good?
Bart: Way to go, Lis.
Homer: Yeah, thanks, Lisa.
(End of Act II)
(At the treehouse, Bart is choaking himself playfully.)
Bart: Hello? Something scary happening.
Bart
Lisa
Bart
Lisa: Don't worry, Bart. You won't learn anything. It's called...
"The Raven"
(As the scene fades to inside a mansion, Lisa's voice fades replacing with the Narrator's voice.)
Lisa: Once upon a midnight dreary...
Narrator: ...while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
(Homer sits, asleep, with a book titled ``Forgotten Lore Vol. II'' on his lap.)
Narrator: While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
(When the tapping occurs in the next stanza, Homer wakes up with a start and looks around nervously.)
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
Homer: (scoffs) Tis some visitor,
Narrator: I muttered,
Homer: tapping at my chamber door—
Only this and nothing more.
Bart: (offscreen) Are we scared yet?
Lisa: (offscreen) Bart, he's establishing mood.
Narrator: Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow...
(Homer wakes up and walks to a tall portrait of Lenore (Marge), her hair going up so far that it requires a second panel.)
Narrator: Sorrow for the lost Lenore.
Homer: (plaintively) Oh, Lenore.
Narrator: For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Nameless here for evermore.
(A rustle is heard outside. Homer screams and hides behind the chair.)
Narrator: And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
(Homer hides under the chair.)
Homer: (fast) ’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—
This it is and nothing more.
Narrator: Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
Homer: Sir,
Narrator: Said I.
(Homer walks toward the door as he talks.)
Homer: or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you.
(Homer opens the door and covers his eyes in fear.)
Narrator: Here I opened wide the door...
Bart: (offscreen) (impatiently) This better be good.
(Homer peeks through his fingers.)
Narrator: Darkness there and nothing more.
Homer: Huh? (shrugs)
(Back to the treehouse.)
Bart: You know what would've been scarier than nothing?
Lisa: What?
Bart: ANYTHING!
(The mansion, Homer closes the door and walks away.)
Narrator: Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
Homer: (gasps) Surely,
Narrator: Said I,
Homer: Surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore.
(Homer nervously walks toward the window and opens it.)
Narrator: Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Homer: Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou.
Narrator: I said.
Homer:
Narrator:
Raven:
Lisa:
Bart:
Narrator:
Homer:
Narrator:
Homer:
Narrator:
Homer: Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe And forget this lost Lenore
Narrator: Quoth the Raven...
Raven: Nevermore.
Homer: D'oh! Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!
Narrator: I shrieked, upstarting.
Homer: Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! Quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart and take thy form from off my door!
Narrator: Quoth the Raven...
Raven: Nevermore.
Homer: (Trying to stay calm) Take thy beak from out my heart and take thy form from off my door.
Narrator: Quoth the Raven...
Raven: Nevermore.
Homer: Why, you little...!
Raven: Uh-oh.
Homer: Come back here you little raven!
Narrator: And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted—nevermore!
(As the Raven laughs evilly, the scene fades back to the treehouse.)
Bart: Lisa, that wasn't scary, not even for a poem.
Lisa: Well, it was written in 1845. Maybe people were easier to scare back then.
Bart: Oh, yeah. Like when you look at "Friday the 13th, Part 1". It's pretty tame by today's standards.
Marge: (offscreen) Children, bedtime!
Bart: I guess I'll have no trouble getting to sleep tonight.
Homer: Oh, no, Marge. Come on, please.
Marge: I'm not sleeping with the lights on. They're just children's stories. They can't hurt you.
Homer: Oh, how I hate Halloween.
(Homer covers himself in the sheet in fear.)
THE END