Hello, everyone.
You know, Halloween is a strange holiday. I don't understand it.
Kids worshiping ghosts, pretending to be devils... things on TV that are inappropriate for children.
Things like the next half-hour. Nothing bothers my kids.
But tonight's show, which I wash my hands of, is really scary.
If you have sensitive kids, maybe you should tuck them into bed... instead of writing us angry letters.
Thanks for your attention.
Tree House of Horror
What a haul this year. I love Halloween.
Wait a minute. Let's see what the kids are up to.
And the policeman on the phone said: "We traced the call. It's coming from the floor below you! Get out!"
But it was too late. End of story.
I heard that in the third grade. It's not scary.
Is too.
Is not.
Is too.
Is not.
Fine! Then you tell one scarier.
Flashlight, please.
Here's a story that's scarifying.
Oh, brother.
I call it, "Bad Dream House."
That's all. Sign here.
There you are.
And a dollar for you.
A buck.
I'm glad there's a curse here.
Huh?
Well, it's all ours!
I can't believe how cheap it was.
Motivated seller.
Well, he must have been motivated.
Prime location, 18 rooms, moat. We shouldn't be able to afford this.
So we got a deal for once. Quit fighting it.
It just seems too good to be true.
Mom! Bart threw a book at me.
Did not!
Did too!
Get out.
What on earth was that?
Oh, just the house settling.
This kitchen certainly could use a woman's touch.
Homer! What's this in the corner?
I don't know.
Looks like a vortex. A gateway into another dimension.
Ooh, a vortex. Catch!
Hey, pretty slick.
"Quit throwing garbage into our dimension."
Mom! Dad! Help!
Get out!
Okay, boy, let's see you talk yourself out of this one.
I can feel an evil presence in here.
Evil?
Quiet. You're scaring your mother.
Children, get your coats. We're leaving right now.
Wait. It's only natural there would be things wrong with a home like this.
It's a fixer-upper. What's the problem?
We get some priests--
I won't live in this evil house just to save money.
Don't be so stubborn!
We're not talking about a few dollars. We're talking a few thousand dollars!
It's got great high ceilings!
Tell you what. Let's sleep on it. Okay?
All right. If anything happens--
What could happen?
They are all against you, Bart.
You must k*ll them all. They all must die.
Are you my conscience?
I'm--
Yes, I am.
Lisa. Lisa.
The butcher Kn*fe, Lisa.
They are all against me.
They all must die.
Marge. Oh, Marge.
I'm in the kitchen, Homer.
Die! Die! Everybody die!
What's going on out here?
Homer! Bart! Lisa! Maggie! Stop it!
Sorry, Dad.
Sorry, Bart.
Sorry, Mom.
We're leaving.
You said you'd sleep on it.
I don't care.
This family has had its differences... but we've never had Kn*fe fights. I blame this house.
Mom! Dad! Look!
It's an ancient lndian burial ground.
Man, this place has everything!
An ancient lndian what?
Mr. Plott? Homer Simpson here.
When you sold me the house you didn't mention one thing.
You didn't tell me it was built on an lndian burial ground!
No, you didn't!
That's not my recollection!
Yeah? Well, all right. Goodbye.
He says he mentioned it.
Let's go, kids.
Ah, Marge.
Homer!
You will die.
You will die slowly.
Your stomach will swell. Your intestines will writhe and boil.
Your eyes will burst and some horrible stuff... possibly your brains, will start coming out through your nose.
Shush! Shut up! Quit trying to push us around!
Stop saying those horrible things and show some manners!
Look. I've never been so angry. My hands are shaking.
Better than your eyes bursting.
Do it again.
What?
Make the walls bleed.
No.
We own you. Let's see some blood.
I don't have to entertain you.
Do it! Do the blood thing.
Come on! Do it! Do it! Do it!
Why are you scaring us? To keep us from getting close...
...and maybe even loving you?
Leave me alone.
Don't talk that way.
Hey, listen, lady--
Oh, don't call me lady.
My name is Marge Simpson, and we're not going anywhere.
We're going to have to live together, so you better get used to it. Please.
Can I think about this?
Sure.
Life with the Simpsons.
What choice do I have?
Wow!
Bitchen!
It destroyed itself rather than live with us.
You can't help but feel a little rejected.
That wasn't scary.
Oh, yeah?
Well, how about this severed finger!
Eww! Baby spit!
Well, that last story was a warmup for this macabre tale I call: "Hungry Are the Damned."
Homer, all these flies.
Not to worry.
I'll just turn on the trusty bug zapper.
Ooh! That was a big mama.
That should do it.
Man alive, there's nothing better than a hamburger grilled to perfection.
Cool, man!
The burgers are getting cold, guys-- Holy moly.
Huh?
Greetings, Earthlings. I am Kang. Do not be frightened.
We mean you no harm.
You speak English.
I'm speaking Rigelian.
By coincidence, our languages are exactly the same.
What are you gonna do with us?
We're taking you to Rigel Four.
A world of infinite delights to tantalize your senses... and challenge your intellect.
Look. To you, we Simpsons are a lower order of life.
We face that prejudice every day, but we are happy on our planet.
We throw ourselves on your mercy. Please return--
Dinner!
Get a load of that spread.
Here you go. Take all you want, but eat all you take.
Thank you, Mr--?
To pronounce it correctly, I would have to pull out your tongue.
Fried shrimp.
Sloppy joes.
Smothered pork chops.
Look! Radish rosettes.
These are hard to make. They're an advanced race.
Come, Earthlings, eat. Grow large with food.
Something's not quite right.
The girl's right. Let's get some applesauce for these pork chops!
What are you looking at, buddy?
Your wife's quite a dish.
Thanks.
It's our pleasure to provide you with entertainment on your journey.
We get over a million channels from the far reaches of the galaxy.
Do you get HBO?
No. That's extra.
Here's our achievement in amusement technology.
An electronic version of table tennis.
Your paddles have been replaced--
That's just Pong!
Get with the times, man.
We played that before marriage.
We did build this spaceship.
Anyone that has mastered intergalactic travel, raise your hand.
All right, then.
Sorry. Your game is very nice.
Dinnertime.
How come you guys never eat?
Oh, we wouldn't want to spoil our appetite for... the feast when we land on Rigel Four.
Ooh, a feast.
Will we be invited?
Oh, you'll be at the feast.
I have a feeling you'll be the guests of honor.
Tell us more about this feast.
No, eat now.
When we arrive, there will be plenty of time to chew the fat.
Very good, Earth boy.
Excellent, Mr. Simpson. Excellent.
This will give the humans the perfect flavor.
Stop! Don't you see what's happening?
They're fattening us up so they can eat us!
Lisa.
Oh, come on, Lisa.
If you don't believe me, look at this book I found.
She's right.
You have stopped eating.
Listen, you big stupid space creature!
Nobody, but nobody, eats the Simpsons.
I beg your pardon?
We found your book.
You mean this?
It's a harmless cookbook. It's just a little dusty.
Wait a minute.
Wait, there's still more space dust on here.
Let me get this straight.
They thought we would eat them.
Good God! Is this some kind of joke?
No, they're serious.
Why were you making us eat?
Make you eat? We merely provided a banquet... and you made pigs of yourselves.
I slaved in the kitchen for days for you people and--
Well, if you wanted to make Serak cry, mission accomplished.
You aren't the only beings who have emotions, you know.
We offered you paradise.
You would have experienced emotions greater than what you call love... 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.
For a superior race, they really rub it in.
There were monsters on that ship, and we were them.
See why we say you're too smart for your own good?
Way to go, Lis.
Yeah, thanks, Lisa.
Hello, something scary happening.
Hey, it's Halloween. Put the book away.
For your information, I'm about to read a tale by Edgar Allan Poe.
Wait. That's a schoolbook.
Don't worry, you won't learn anything.
It's called, The Raven.
Once upon a midnight dreary
While I pondered Weak and weary
Over many a quaint and curious Volume of forgotten lore
I nodded, nearly napping Suddenly there came a tapping
As of someone gently rapping At my chamber door
Just some visitor--
I muttered
Tapping at my chamber door
Only this and nothing more
Are we scared yet?
Bart, he's establishing mood.
Ah, distinctly I remember It is in the bleak December
Each dying ember wrought Its ghost on the floor
Eagerly I wished The morrow
Vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow
Sorrow for the lost Lenore
Oh, Lenore.
For the rare and radiant maiden Whom angels name Lenore
Nameless here For evermore
The silken sad uncertain rustling Of each curtain thrilled me
Filled me with fantastic terrors Never felt before
To still my b*ating heart I stood repeating
A visitor at my chamber door And nothing more
My soul grew stronger Hesitating then no longer
Sir--
Said I
Or Madam, truly your Forgiveness I implore
I was napping, and you came rapping And so faintly you came tapping
Tapping at my chamber door That I scarce was sure I heard you
Here I opened Wide the door
This better be good.
Darkness there and nothing more
You know what's scarier?
What?
Anything!
Back into the chamber turning My soul within me burning
Soon again I heard tapping Something louder than before
Surely--
Said I
Something at My window lattice
Let me see what thereat is And this mystery explore
I flung a shutter With a flirt and flutter
In stepped a Raven Of the days of yore
No obeisance made he Not a minute stayed he
Mien of lord or lady Perched above my door
Perched upon a bust Just above my door
Perched and sat And nothing more
Thy crest be shorn and shaven--
I said
Art sure no craven, ghastly ancient Raven wandering from the nightly shore
Tell me what thy name is--
Quoth the Raven
Eat my shorts!
He says, "Nevermore."
And that's all he'll ever say.
Okay. Okay.
Then methought The air grew denser
Perfumed by some unseen censer
Stupid censer.
Swung by Seraphim Whose foot tinkled on the floor
Wretch--
I cried
God lent thee By angels sent thee
Respite from thy Memories of Lenore
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe And forget this lost Lenore
Quoth the Raven--
Nevermore
Be that word our sign of parting--
I shrieked up starting
Get thee into the tempest And the night's Plutonian shore
Leave no black plume as a token Of the 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
Quoth the Raven--
Nevermore
Take thy beak from out my heart And take thy form from off my door
Quoth the Raven
Nevermore
Why you little--
Come back here, you little raven!
Nevermore, nevermore Nevermore
The Raven never flitting Still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust Just above my chamber door
His eyes have the seeming Of a demon that is dreaming
The lamplight o'er him streaming Throws his shadow on the floor
My soul from out that shadow That lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted Nevermore
Lisa, that wasn't scary. Not even for a poem.
It was written in 1845. Maybe people were easier to scare.
Like Friday the 13th Part I. It's pretty tame by today's standards.
Children, bedtime!
I guess I'll have no trouble getting to sleep tonight.
Oh, no, Marge. Come on, please.
I'm not sleeping with the lights on.
They're just children's stories. They can't hurt you.
Oh, I hate Halloween!
02x03 - Treehouse of Horror
Moderator: SideshowBob
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"The Simpsons" - set in the fictional town of Springfield - parodies American culture, society, television, and many aspects of the human condition, and is a satirical depiction of a middle class American lifestyle.
"The Simpsons" - set in the fictional town of Springfield - parodies American culture, society, television, and many aspects of the human condition, and is a satirical depiction of a middle class American lifestyle.