Bart Gets Hit by a Car/Transcript

This is the transcript for Bart Gets Hit by a Car.
== Transcript ==
:[Bart is skateboarding across town and suddenly gets hit by Mr. Burns's car and passes out.]
:Smithers: Uh-oh! I-ah... I think the boy is hurt.
:Burns: Oh, for crying out loud! Just give him a nickel and let's get going!
:Smithers: I think we should call an ambulance, sir.
:Burns: (mutters)
:[Bart's spirit leaves his body.]
:Bart: Hey, cool. I'm dead!
:[In an oneiric trance, a stairway to heaven appears in front of Bart's spirit and he starts climbing it.] 
:Voice: Please hold on to the handrail. Do not spit over the side. Por favor, aguantese en la baranda. (Continues talking in Spanish)
:[Bart observes his forefathers as angels in the clouds.]
:Bart: Aunt Hortense. Great-grandpa Simpson. Snowball! 
:Voice: Do not spit over the side. 
:[Bart spits over the side, and his salive reaches Earth's ocean below. Afterwards, the staircase becomes a slider and Bart falls down.]
:Bart: (screams)
:Voice: We told you to hold on to the handrail. We asked you not to spit over the side. (Continues talking)
:[Bart falls into hell.]
:Devil: Howdy, stranger! 
:Bart: I'm Bart Simpson. Who the hell are you?
:Devil: Ah, please allow me to introduce myself. I'm the devil! (evil laugh) And you've earned eternal damnation for your evil deeds. Spitting over the escalator just clinched it.
:Bart: Hey, I'm innocent, man! 
:Devil: (Laughs) Innocent, eh? Everybody's innocent. (Continues laughing and sits in front of a computer) Okay, let's just pull up your file here. (Mutters) Okay. Um... seems to be a mistake. According to this, you're due to arrive here until the next time the Yankees win the pennant. It's nearly a century from now. (Laughs) Boy, is my face red?
:[Bart's family appears briefly in a thought cloud.] 
:Marge: Bart? Baaart?
:Bart (floating, to the devil): Um, say, is there anything I can do to avoid coming back here?
:[Bart starts ascending]. 
:Devil: Oh, sure, yeah, but- eh, hey, you wouldn't like it. 
:Bart: Okay. See you later, then. 
:Devil: Goodbye, Bart! Remember, lie, cheat, steal and listen to heavy metal music! 
:Bart: Yes, sir!
:[As Bart continues ascending, scenes taking place in a hospital are seen.] 
:Intercom: Dr. Warner, wanted in radiology. Please...
:[Bart is awaking in a hospital bed, with the rest of the Simpsons plus a man in a suit observing him].
:Homer: He's awake! 
:Marge: Oh, Bart! We thought for a minute you'd gone away from us. 
:Bart: I did go away, mom! I was miles and miles and miles away, writhing in agony in the pits of hell! (pointing to Homer) And you were there! (pointing to Marge) And you. (pointing to Lisa) And you. (pointing to Maggie) And you. (pointing to the man in a suit) You I've never seen before. 
:Homer: Eh, yeah, who are you? I saw you chasing Bart's ambulance.
:Man in a suit: Hutz is the name, Mr. Simpson! Lionel Hutz, attorney at law. Here's my card. (Hands over his card) It turns into a sponge when you put it into water. 
:Homer: Ooh, classy! 
:Hutz: I would like to talk to you about bringing legal action against the fiend who did this to your boy! 
:Homer: Well, the fiend who did this to my boy is my boss and... Besides, the doctor says it's just a bump on the head and a broken toe, nothing serious! 
:Hutz: Doctors! Doctors are idiots! There's no telling what kind of permanent injuries he might have. You might have to wait on him hand and foot for the rest of his natural life! That's the downside! Here's the good part: You can ching, ching, ching, cash in on this tragedy! 
:Homer: Wow!
:Lisa: Excuse me, Mr. Hutz, are you a shyster? 
:Hutz: How does a nice little girl like you know a big word like that? 
:Marge: Mr. Hutz, this is hardly the time or place to discuss this. 
:Hutz: You're right, you're right. When you feel up to it, come to my office and we'll talk about it. Lionel Hutz, attorney at law. Is that a broken neck? Great!
:[Hutz leaves. Dr. Hibbert arrives]
:Lisa: Hello, Dr. Hibbert. 
:Dr. Hibbert: Hello, Lisa. Well, we've got a nasty bump on our head. (touches Bart's head bump) 
:Bart: Ouch! Quit it! 
:Dr. Hibbert: And a little tiny broken toe. (touches Bart's broken toe) 
:Bart: Ouch! Quit it! 
:Marge: Is he well enough for me to start mothering unbearably him, doctor? 
:Dr. Hibbert: Hmm, better let him rest a while first. 
:[Homer is with his colleagues at the nuclear power plant during a coffee break, eating donuts.]
:Lenny: Hey Simpson, I heard Mr. Burns crushed your boy. 
:Homer: Yeah. If I wasn't so spineless, I'd march into Mr. Burns' office now and--
:[Smithers appears.] 
:Smithers: Simpson! 
:Homer: Aaah!
:Smithers: Burns wants you to march into his office, right now!
:Homer: Uh-oh!
:[Homer goes to Mr. Burns' office. He is sitting on a armchair with Smithers and several men in grey suits around.]
:Burns: Ah, Simpson, at last we meet! (they handshake)
:Homer: It's, uh... Nice to meet you too, sir. 
:Burns: Yes. My attorneys advised me to pay for running you over your child. So I'm cutting you a check. 
:Homer: Really? Great.
:[Burns struggles to cut the check but makes it.] 
:Burns: One hundred dollars. Of course, you'll have to sign a waiver... relinquishing your right to sue and so forth. Merely a formality. 
:Homer: A hundred bucks? (stutters) It's a generous offer, sir, but his medical bills alone-- 
:Burns: Oh, so extortion is the name of your little game, is it Simpson? Very well! Then you get nothing! (Takes the check back). I have the finest lawyers in Springfield, Simpson. Tangle with me, and I'll crush you like a paper cup. (Struggles to crush a paper cup, but manages to do it). Throw him out, Smithers! 
:Homer: You don't have to do that, Mr. Burns. I can throw myself out. (Leaves)
:[Homer cleans his head sweat with Hutz' card, and it opens as a sponge.]
:Homer: Oh! Lionel Hutz.
 
:[Homer enters Hutz' office. A secretary, Della, is sat on a desk reading a magazine. Hutz appears from a room behind.]
:Hutz: Right here, Mr. Simpson. (to Della) Any calls, Della? 
:Della: Calls? Oh, "calls"! Yes, the Supreme Court called again. They need your help on a freedom thing. 
:Hutz: Tell them to sit tight. I'll get back to them. (to Homer) This way, Mr. Simpson. 
:[At Mr Hutz's room, Homer observes his diplomas hanging on the wall.]
:Homer: You sure have got some education, Mr. Hutz.
:Hutz: Yes, Harvard, Yale, MIT, Oxford, the Sorbonne, the Louvre.
:[A siren is heard on the background.]
:Hutz: Oh! Oh, well. Mr. Simpson, the state bar forbids me... from promising you a big cash settlement. But just between you and me, I promise you... a big cash settlement. My fee is 50 percent. 
:Homer: 50 percent? 
:Hutz: You'll be getting more than a lawyer. Mr. Simpson! You'll also be getting this exquisite faux pearl necklace... a ninety-nine dollar value, as our gift to you. (Hands over the necklace to Homer) 
:Homer: Well, I don't know. You and I might have different ideas... about just how big a big cash settlement is. 
:Hutz: A million dollars? 
:Homer: Whoo-hoo! Oh! I stand corrected! A million bucks is A-Okay!
:[Homer, Marge, Bart (on a wheelchair), and Hutz are on Hutz's office. Homer observes Hutz's diplomas on the wall.] 
:Hutz: Now we'll get a real doctor's opinion.
:[Dr. Riviera enters the office.] 
:Dr. Riviera: Bad news! Your son is a very sick boy. Just look at the X-rays! (Shows the X-ray of Bart's skull) You see that dark spot there? Whiplash. 
:Homer: Whiplash? Oh, no! 
:Dr. Riviera: And this smudge that looks like my fingerprint? No. That's trauma! 
:Bart: Am I going to die?
:Homer: Yes, son! (starts crying)
:Marge: Homer! 
:Homer: No, of course you're not going to die. Everything's fine.
:Bart: Will I ever play baseball again? 
:Homer: No! (sobbing) 
:Bart: But I played baseball this morning. 
:Marge: That's right, he did. Excuse me, but Dr. Hibbert has been our family physician for years and he thought Bart was fine. 
:Hutz: Oh, Dr. Hibbert, from Johns Hopkins Medical School. With all due respect, Mrs. Simpson, you're not a doctor. He's not a doctor, I'm not a doctor. The only person in this room who even comes close is this man. 
:Dr. Riviera: Stop, you're embarrassing me! 
:Hutz: Doctor, are you sure there isn't soft tissue trauma in the face area?
:Dr. Riviera: Oh, yeah. Tons of it. Just say when. (Wraps a stripe around Bart's head).
:[At his office, Mr. Burns reads Homer's million-dollar lawsuit.] 
:Burns: A million dollars? Smithers! I want this... Homer J. Simpson fired! 
:Smithers: Uh, do you think that's wise. Mr. Burns? I mean, think of the headlines. 
:[Burns imagines news headlines praising him.]
:Burns: What about the headlines?
:Smithers: Well, the press might be critical of you for firing him the crippled boy's father so soon after the accident. 
:Mr. Burns: Well, all right then. I don't want to seem like an ogre. I'll bide my time. Let him twist in the wind. Slowly, slowly. And them, when the papers have found their new flavor of the month... he'll find out this cat has claws! 
:Smithers: Good thinking, sir. 
:[In the Simpson household, Homer, Lisa, and Maggie are on the couch, Marge is standing behind the couch, while Hutz is standing in front of it and Bart is on his wheelchair.] 
:Hutz: (to Bart) Now, let's pretend you're on the witness stand. How are you, Bart?
:Bart: Fine.
:Hutz: (to Homer) Oh, fine, isn't that nice? Bart says he's fine. (to Bart, yelling) Wrong! You are not fine! You are in constant pain!
:Bart: I am in constant pain. 
:Lisa: Dad, may I please make an observation? 
:Homer: What is it? 
:Lisa: I think this is our charade to make Bart look more injured than he really is. 
:Marge: Maybe Lisa does have a point. I don't mind you boys doing this in the living room, but in court, doesn't Bart have to tell the truth? 
:Hutz: Yeah, but what is truth, if you follow me? Bart, can you roll your eyes back in your head like this? 
:Bart: You mean like I'm dead? Sure. 
:Hutz: The kid's a pro. 
:[In the court, a trial is about to start. Everyone is present.]
:Officer: Springfield Municipal Court is now in session. Judge Moulton presiding. 
:Blue-Haired Lawyer: Your Honor, my client has instructed me to remind your court how rich and important he is... And that he's not like other men. 
:Burns: I should be able to run over as many kids as I want!
:Audience: Oooh!
:Judge Moulton: (beats his gavel) Mr. Burns, I must warn you that if you continue to disrupt the court in this way... I'll have to cite you for contempt. 
:Burns: You wouldn't dare! 
:Judge Moulton: Well, no, I guess I wouldn't. 
:Officer: Calling Bartholomew J. Simpson to the stand.
:[Bart, on his wheelchair, goes to the stand.] 
:Mr. Burns: Oh, please! 
:Judge Moulton: Hello, Bart. Now, you know the difference between telling the truth and... telling a lie, don't you, son? 
:Bart: Maybe. 
:Judge Moulton: Well, you wouldn't lie to the United States, would you, Bart? 
:[Bart looks to Homer and Hutz.]
:Homer and Hutz (whispering and gesturing): No! No!
:Bart: No. 
:Judge Moulton: Good. (to Hutz) Proceed, Mr. Hutz. 
:Hutz: Thank you, your Honor. (to Bart) Now Bart, I want you to tell the jury, in your own words... exactly what happened on the day of the accident. 
:Bart: Yes, sir. It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon.
:[A flashback of the incident according to Bart's relation is shown.]
:Bart (voice): I was playing in my wholesome childlike way, little realizing that I was about to be struck down by the luxury car of death!
:[In the flashback, Bart stumbles and falls, as a black, macabre funerary car with an aim, driven by Mr. Burns, with Smithers on his side, approaches.] 
:Smithers: Defenseless child at three o'clock!
:Burns: (insane laugh, accelerating towards a defenseless Bart)
:Bart (voice): Luckily, I was not killed that day. 
:[The flashback ends. Bart, sobbing, is seen ending his relation.]
:Bart: Although sometimes I wish I... had been. 
:Mr. Burns: Oh, he's lying!
:[Judge Moulton beats his gavel.]
:Hutz (to Homer): Now, that's believable testimony. 
:Lisa and Marge: Hmmm...
:[Mr. Burns is at the stand.]
:Blue-Haired Lawyer: Now, Mr. Burns, would you please relate in your own words... exactly what really happened on the day of the accident? 
:Burns: Certainly. (starts reading from a paper) It was a beautiful day.
:[A flashback starts. Burns is seen driving a pink convertible with Smithers on his side and waiving to the populace.]
:Burns (voice): The sun was shining. I was driving to the orphanage to pass out toys. Suddenly, that incorrigible Simpson boy darted in front of me.
:[Mr. Burns' car hits Bart, who is thrown upward and then falls.]
:Burns (desperate): Oh, my goodness! Look what's happened!
:Smithers: Oh, it's not important, sir. Let's drive on. 
:Burns: Why, you despicable cold-blooded monster! (goes tend for Bart) Regardless of what you think, we will summon help... and comfort the dear boy until an ambulance arrives. (kisses Bart's forehead) (yelling) Noo! Take me, I'm old! 
:[The flashback ends as Burns concludes his relation at the stand.]
:Burns: And that's what happened.
:[Most in the court, including Smithers, look suspiciously at Burns].
:Burns: Why are you looking at me like that for? You believed his cock-and-bull story?!
:Hutz (to Homer): It's looking good, Mr. Simpson. It's looking very, very good. 
:[In a separate glass-enclosed compartment in the court, Burns yells at his lawyers.]
:Burns: They hate me? What trial were you watching? 
:Blue-Haired Lawyer: Maybe a settlement-- 
:Burns: Settlement! Fine! Hang your heads in shame... you overpriced, under-brained glorified notary publics! Just get that big ape to my house and we'll buy him off with a banana or two! 
:[Homer is seen angry listening to what Burns say.]
:[At his living room, Mr. Burns is talking to Homer and Marge, both in their formal clothing. Smithers is also present.]
:Mr. Burns: And that ugly customer was the last Indonesian rhino on earth. 
:Marge: Hmm. I didn't know you liked animals. 
:Burns: Oh, I don't like everything about them. Just their heads. (He and Smithers laugh). Well, would you care for some wine, old buddy? 
:Homer: Don't mind if I do.
:Burns (to Smithers): Go, go!
:[Smithers serves wine to Homer and Marge.]
:Burns: Bottoms up, Simpson. There's plenty more where that came from. 
:[Homer drinks some of the wine].
:Homer: Mr. Burns, are you trying to get me drunk? 
:Burns: Yes. Eh... Now, then Homer, our old chum... I'm sure you agree with me that this trial is an affront to our collective dignity. What do you say we... settle this, man to man? 
:Homer: You mean duke it out? 
:Burns: (Laughs) Oh, no! I mean I'm prepared to offer you a most generous cash settlement. (starts writing on a paper) A princely sum-- Well, a handsome sum that can end this imbroglio once and for all. (He hands the paper to Homer)
:Homer: Five hundred thousand dollars. 
:Marge: Goodness! 
:Mr. Burns: Bup-bup-bup! Don't answer me now. Relax, talk it over with the missus. Soak in the opulence of your surroundings and dream of what it might be. Smithers, let's go powder my nose.
:[Burns and Smithers leave.]
:Homer: Well, Marge, What do you think? 
:Marge: Well, I don't know. Maybe we should take this money and put this ugliness behind us. 
:[Burns and Smithers secretly observe Homer and Marge talking from holes behind a picture].
:Burns: Hmm. The fish is in the pan. 
:Marge: What do you think, Homer? 
:Homer: I'll tell you what I think. I think he thinks I'm an idiot! The only reason he's offering us this because he knows he's gonna lose at trial... and have to pay us a cool million. 
:Burns: Oh, I feel faint. 
:Homer: Five hundred thousand dollars! I spit on his five hundred thousand dollars! (He spits on Mr. Burns' airmchair)
:Burns and Smithers (observing): Hmm... 
:Marge: Homer, what's happened to you? All this greediness and lying... and shifty lawyers and phony doctors!
:Burns: Phony doctors? Hello. 
:Marge: Know what I'd settle for, if it was up to me? Bart's medical bills and an apology. 
:[Burns and Smithers appear and Burns takes the paper from Marge's hands and rips it.]
:Burns: And you won't even get that. Sorry, offer's expired. I guess we'll just have to let the jury decide. Twelve good men and true. Good day. Smithers, release the hounds.
:[Snarling hounds are released at Homer and Marge, who run from them through Burns' backyard towards the mansion's exit.]
:[In the court, the trial continues, with everyone present again].
:Blue-Haired Lawyer: Your Honor, I'd like to call to the stand... Mrs. Homer J. Simpson!
:[The populace gasps and murmurs.]
:Officer (to Marge): Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth, so help you God? 
:Marge: Hmm, Yes, I do.
:Hutz (to Homer, whispering): She sounded like she was taking that awful seriously.
:Homer: Oh, the truth!
:Blue-Haired Lawyer (to Marge): Mrs. Simpson, does the name Julius Hibbert mean anything to you?
:Marge: Yes, he's been our family physician and trusted friend... ever since I became a mother. He's seen us through everything from colds to impetigo with competence and loving care.
:Blue-Haired Lawyer: But wait a minute! I'm confused. This court heard expert testimony from one Dr. Nick Riviera. What's your opinion of him? 
:Marge: Mmm...
:Blue-Haired Lawyer: Mrs. Simpson?
:Marge: Mmm, I'm sorry, but my mother always said, "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all."
:Homer (to Hutz): Will that hold up in court?
:Hutz: No, I've tried it before. 
:Blue-Haired Doctor (to Marge): Mrs. Simpson, what is your opinion of Dr. Riviera? And let me remind you that you're under oath!
:Marge: Well, to be honest... he seemed a lot more concerned about wrapping Bart in bandages... than making him feel better. And he mispronounced words that even I know, like "abdomen." And his office was dirty! Now that I think about it, I'm not sure he's even a doctor.
:Homer: D'oh!
:Blue-Haired Lawyer: And Mrs. Simpson, could you describe for us in your own words... Bart's "intense mental anguish and suffering"?
:Marge: Well, I don't know how intense it was...
:Blue-Haired Lawyer: Uh-hum... 
:Marge: But, well, I guess he did miss three days of school.
:Blue-Haired Lawyer: Oh, three days?
:Marge: Although he doesn't like school all that much...
:Blue-Haired Lawyer: No.
:Marge: So I guess that may not count as anguish.
:Blue-Haired Lawyer: No, it doesn't, Mrs. Simpson. 
:Marge: It was a little hard on me, having him around the house all that time.
:Blue-Haired Lawyer: Yeah. Could you put a dollar amount on all these hardships?
:Marge: Well, we pay Bart five dollars a week to take out the trash. I suppose if he'd been able to do it, we might've given him the five dollars. 
:Blue-Haired Lawyer: Five dollars? But your lawyer, assuming he is a lawyer, is asking for a million! Well, we can't blame them for trying, can we? (laugh) Thank you very much, Mrs. Simpson.
:Homer (sobbing): Oh, Marge!
:Burns: (laughs sinisterly)
:[At the separate compartment at the court, Burns and his lawyers talk with Homer and Hutz.]
:Burns: I'm going to write a figure on this piece of paper. It's not quite as large as the last one... but I... I think you'll find it fair. (He writes a circle on the paper).
:Hutz (to Homer): I think we should take it.
:Homer: (sobs)
:[At the Simpsons dining room, Homer, Bart, Maggie and Marge are sitting at the table. Homer is dejected, while the rest are eating.]
:Homer (thinking): A million dollars. My wife cost me a million dollars.
:Marge: Homer, would you like some more macaroni and cheese? 
:Homer (thinking): Yeah, a million dollars' worth, you treacherous snake-woman! 
:Homer: No, thank you. 
:Marge: Some string beans?
:Homer (thinking): No, I don't want any string beans either, you two-timing, backstabbing-- Uh-oh, Better answer.
:Homer: No, thank you.
:Marge: Some celery with cream cheese on it?
:Homer (thinking): Just mouth polite nothings.
:Homer: No, thank you. 
:Bart: You know what would've really been cool? If we got that million bucks.
:Marge: Bart, please.
:Marge: What? We could've bought tons of great stuff, mom. Maids, a pool, fancy sweaters. Stop me if I'm wrong.
:Homer: Marge, dear, would it be alright if I went over to Moe's for a drink?
:Marge: Sure.
:Homer (thinking): I don't know if I'll I ever come back here.
:Homer: Good night. (Kisses Marge). 
:Marge (thinking): Hmm. My woman's intuition is telling me something. I wonder what-- Oh, my God! 
:[At Moe's, a still dejected Homer is drinking. Moe and others are present as well.] 
:Homer: Well, that's it. I guess this is the class I'm gonna die in. 
:Moe: Ah, you're better off. Rich people aren't happy. From the day they born to the day they die, they think they're happy but trust me, they ain't.
:Homer (thinking): Moe, I wish he'd shut up.
:[Marge enters the tavern and starts walking towards Homer.]
:Patron: Look, a chick! (whistles)
:Moe: And it's not even ladies' night.
:Homer: Hey, hey, guys. Knock it off! It's just my wife.
:Barney: Well, hello.
:Marge: My name's Marge. (to Homer) Homer, I'd like you to forgive me for doing the right thing.
:Homer: Oh, Marge.
:Marge: We've squabbled over money before. Never this much. I mean, I know, it's different than the time I washed your pants with the twenty in the pocket--
:Homer: No, no, no! You-you think this is about money? No, it's not. It's worse, Marge. I'm afraid that when I look at you... I'm not gonna see the wife by my side or the mother of my children. I'm just gonna see the dame who blew my one big chance.
:Marge: What are you saying, Homer? 
:Homer: I'm saying-- 
:Homer (thinking): She's your wife of ten years, you've had three children together. It's time to be honest with her. 
:Homer: I'm not sure I love you anymore. 
:Marge: (gasps)
:Homer: But don't worry, I will never let on. I'll still do all the bed stuff. Maybe it won't be so bad.
:Marge: Oh, my Lord! I don't want to wait another minute to find out if you love me anymore. I think that you should... look me in the eyes and find out.
:Homer: Oh...
:Marge: Homer, look at me!
:Homer (thinking): Alright, alright, look at her if it'll shut her up. Start with the feet. Still angry. Good. Good, Homer, good! This is tough, need refreshment. (Drinks beer mug) Ah, good old trustworthy beer. My love for you will never die. Aright, alright, gotta look the wife straight in the eyes and tell her--
:[They look at each other.]
:Homer: Oh, who am I kidding? I love you more than ever!
:Marge: I love you too!
:Homer: Sorry to scare you like that, babe. (They kiss)
:Moe: Okay, everybody! For the next fifteen minutes, one-third off on every pitcher. Hey, one per customer, domestic beer only. Hey, no sharing!
Category:Transcripts