35x12 - Lisa Gets an F1

[bunniefuu]

♪

[ENGINES REVVING]

[CHESTER ARBORDAY] It's the final lap

of the Springfield Little Grand Prix,

and the karts are tighter
than a royal corgi's collar

as they head into Lard Lad turn.

We have contact!
Things are looking bloody grim

for the rising star of KF-1...
Kids Formula One...

Lisa Simpson.

Simpson spins out!

[ALL GASP]

[ARBORDAY] Look at that icy calm.

Clearly, this pre-tween dynamo

has never felt a modicum of unease

in any automobile.

- _
- Dad!

You're gonna hit the median.

All part of the plan.

[LISA EXCLAIMING] [GRUNTS]

[WHIMPERING]

Aah!

Bart, soccer practice. Go, go, go!

- Whoa!
- Goal...!

Dad, please,
you don't have to hurry like this.

Cut me off? I cut you off!

[LISA] He didn't cut you off,
he's just driving!

Hope you like brakes because today

it's all-you-can-eat, baby.

[LISA EXCLAIMS]

Dad, stop...

brake checking...

him.

- [GROANS]
- Speed bump, sweetie.

We're gonna get a little air.

[SQUEALS]

_

Ugh. I hate when we're early.

Mr. and Mrs. Simpson, as you know,

Lisa has been feeling a lack of control,

which feeds her generalized anxiety.

I know, I know. It's getting worse.

Her twitch jumped eyes.

She used to be a righty.
Where will it jump next?

Mm...

Mom, do you have to do that now?

I knit when I'm worried.

Marge is our family designated worrier,

which frees me up to be the cool dad.

Plus, I get some awesome worry swag.

Marge made this when Bart
swallowed a nine-volt battery

and I had to track it
with a stud finder.

Well... [CLEARS THROAT]

I asked you both here today

because Lisa made a
significant breakthrough

at her last session.

Oh, that's wonderful.

Doctor, I can't thank you enough.

This is such a relief.

Lisa, whatever it is that's
causing your anxiety,

we will walk through hell to fix it.

Well, Mr. Simpson, it's your driving.

What did you just say to me?

Well, Dad, um, you know,

you can be a little
aggressive behind the wheel.

I drive at the speed of traffic.

You can at least listen to Doctor...

Lenny thinks I drive cool.

Everything is always my fault.

Well, two can play at that game.

I say you're a terrible driver.

I'm much faster than you. [GRUNTS]

- [FOOTSTEPS DEPARTING]
- [CAR DOOR CLOSES]

- [CAR SKIDS AWAY]
- [VEHICLES HONKING]

- Doctor, I'm so sorry about...
- [PHONE RINGS]

You have some nerve

putting these thoughts
in my daughter's head.

Mr. Simpson, can we please
continue this conversation

when you're not driving?

[SIREN WAILING]

Go around. Go around.

Aah! [SHRIEKING]

[LISA AND MARGE] Aah!

Did you flip over?

I'm not the one on trial here.

Your trial's in two weeks.

Hey, Doc! Great work with Ralphie.

We can keep aluminum
foil in the house again.

Uh, we'll pick this up later.

[WHIMPERS]

Doctor, what can we do?

Well, I have one idea.


Here, we practice immersion therapy.

We expose patients to their phobias

so their habituated response
can decrease over time.

[WHIMPERING]

[STAMMERS] Monsters.

Monsters all. Ow!

So, he's afraid
of germs on toilet seats.

No, he's afraid of rotisserie chicken.

Lisa, if we can use
this exposure treatment

to get you comfortable in cars,

that might help you overcome
your other anxieties.

Okay, I'll do whatever it takes.

Well, I must warn you, it won't be fun.

[KIDS SHOUTING]

By driving a go-kart,

you can feel a measure of control

in your relationship
with motor vehicles.

I don't want to drive.
Just put me back on the pills.

No wait, no pills.

They make me feel nothing.

But my room has never been cleaner.

But I never laugh.

But there's a calm in that.

But the sound of the
grass growing is loud!

Lisa! It's going to be all right.

Take a breath and give it a little gas.

No! I am not doing this.

I am putting my foot down.

Aah! See?

I could have k*lled a tire.

[SIGHS] Well, we tried.

I am out of here.

Gonna get this back
to the starting area,

and...

Oh... That wasn't so bad.

[CHUCKLES, WHOOPS]

- Zippy.
- We can try other approaches.

They're making up new
therapies all the time.

Mm. I really hoped this one would work.

It's working!

I'm finally in control.

Oh! Doctor, you cured her.

We don't like to use the word "cure."

[WHOOPING, LAUGHING]

But I'm okay with "miracle."

[WHOOPING]

[ARBORDAY] Johannes on Schwarzvalder III

cuts that turn sharper than his mother

cuts the crust off his
egg and cress sandwiches.

- ♪

He might hit 30 miles an hour!

One small slipup means a
playdate with disaster...

...unsupervised!

After dominating local races,

Lisa Simpson will make
her debut in KF-1...

the top international go-kart circuit.

For the first time, race fans worldwide

will be able to witness

Lisa's steely confidence on the track.

I can't wait to get out there.

For me,
it's not about winning or losing,

it's about control.

I used to be this big
bundle of worry and anxiety,

but on the track,
the world is going so fast,

yet I am in complete command.

The stillness at the center of power.

I feel it everywhere.

The other day,
I got my first A-minus ever

on a test, no biggie.

Uh-oh. Am I allowed to do that?

[WEAK CHUCKLE] Will I lose more points?

Does anyone have tape?

Lisa is very good at her job

of driving around and around.

Her unshakable demeanor
has everyone asking

where did this fearless
phenom come from?

Is she the scion of a
Greek shipping magnate?

Or the scion of a
Dutch shipping magnate?

Just what nationality of magnate

is she the scion of?

The truth is she's from an
obscure racing backwater

called... and I hope I'm
pronouncing this correctly...

America.

Her mother is a housewife
with no family fortune

or rich dead husband.

Her pathetic existence peppered only

with the mildest of victories.

Found it.

A life squandered.

Lisa's father... a bald, simpering,

morbidly obese drain on society...

has been sentenced to community service

for a reckless driving conviction.

Am I going to look okay in this show?

I don't see how.

- Oh!
- [CHEERING]

D'oh!

And despite her dollar-store upbringing,

Lisa Simpson stands poised
for international glory

in this fall's KF-1 karting season,

which coincidentally will take place

in her hometown of Springfield.

We are happy to welcome
these wealthy child racers

and their smoking-hot trophy moms.

[MAN] Oh, yes!

European racing teams have
descended upon Springfield.

And as always, the crew to b*at

is Italy's Team Dooshé.

Their charismatic star
is Paolo Paoletti...

son of tracksuit mogul
Fila Fendi Paoletti...

in the number seven Children's
Strength Tylenol kart.

[ITALIAN ACCENT] America is such

a wonderfully disgusting country.

All the g*ns and the billhillies,

and all of the television
shows about Chicago.

The fire, the police,

the man bear who makes
the beef sandwich.

Oh, Paolo love. Boof.

In a setback to their
jet-setting lifestyles,

Paolo and the other European go-karters

must attend public school

under the watchful eye of broken,
faceless bureaucrats.

I have a face.

Even though these kids
are impossibly wealthy,

I think they'll fit right in.

- They didn't.
- How do you know?

It hasn't happened yet.

But then it did.

Hey, I asked for vitello alla caper.

What is this?

Beanie weenies.

Why do you hate my mouth?

Huh? Why? [CRIES]

[BART] Look at that sad foreign kid.

He just needs a regular
American to reach out

and take advantage of him.

Is there some problem here?

This rectangle lady

is trying to poison Paolo.

Dry your eyes, Pinocchio.

I'm the guy that can make
stuff happen around here.

If just might cost you a little.

Whatever it takes.

I give you one of each color.

Purple, blue, green, purple again.

Mmm!

Delizioso.

Finally, somebody
around here with no accent.

Mwah. Bartolomeo,
you make Paolo so happy.

[SIGHS] You are Team Dooshé now.

I'm make it rain on you.

Boof, boof, boof, boof!

[ANNOUNCER] Gentlekids,

start your two-stroke engines.

I can't believe it,

my girl's first
international go-kart race.

Did you put on sunblock?

I'm in a fireproof suit.

Oh, your father's here.

He's finished with
his community service.

He can finally watch me race.

I wouldn't miss seeing
my little Danica Patrick

for all the Jolly
Ranchers in the piñata.

[CHUCKLES] The kids
never check the legs.

Now, honey, I know they're going fast,

but I'm sure Lisa's safe.

There's nothing to worry about.

Oh, I'm not worried.

Come on, you got to be a little worried.

Nope. I've seen Lisa race a dozen times.

She's really good and she's safe.

But-but you're the family's
designated worrier.

If you're not worried,
that means there's a worry vacuum

that I have to fill,
and vacuuming is also your job.

Oh, my God, look how fast she's going.

I'm not concerned in the least.

And me am concerned in the most.

I need the stress yarn.

Relax, Homie, she's winning.

Which means she's going
faster than everybody else.

What am I even knitting?

Oh, it's golf club covers.

[WHOOPING]

Boof!

Time for your bedtime
sweet dream routine.

Here's your night terror teddies,

and I'll set the night-light
to Boogeyman Banisher.

[LISA GIGGLES]

Dad, I don't need all that.

I don't have anxiety anymore.

- And I have you to thank for it.
- Me?

Yes. Your unhinged driving

made me face my fears
and get into go-kart racing.

This is on you.

[WHIMPERS]

All my fault. All on me.

It's me, Lisa Mario.

Woo-hoo! Thanks to my papa,

I'm-a risking my life.

And I'm a dream version of Milhouse.

Aah!

It's-a me, Wario.

My bad parenting has lead to your doom.

[LAUGHS]

Trauma b*mb! Wah!

Aah!

It's-a me, Wario!
It's all my fault! Wah!

♪

So, Paolo, you liking this vibe?

Not enough bass? Too much bass?

Less bass is gonna cost.

Ketchup bottle service.

You make it just like Milan,

except here everyone is fat and ugly.

Bartolucci, I love you.

Here is money.

Excuse me, Signor Spaghetti,

there's somebody at the door.

He's not on the list and he
claims to be the principal.

I am the principal.

Bart Simpson,
I need to see you in my office,

which this is.

Bartissimo, this polyester tie man...

he make-a me sad.

Leave this to me.

Seymour,
why don't you take the afternoon off?

Here, get your mother's tires rotated.

That better not be a euphemism,
young man.

Principal Skinner, I need some help

with the obituary for the class hamster.

Is the correct wording "d*ed by su1c1de"

or "of su1c1de"?

[GRUMBLES]

Oh, look, everyone, it's my archrival.

Oh, enjoy your one win.

You are only a flash in the pan.

I am the breaded veal in the pan.

Paolo will be atop the podium again.

I'm sure you will.
You're a terrific driver.

Oh! See how she mocks me?

Bart, I hate her and her whole family.

Say cruel things about this girl
so I may agree with them.

Well, I've never met her before,
but I can tell by her vibe

that she's an animal-kissing,
Wikipedia-editing middle child

who burps broccoli and farts tofu

and won't do her brother's homework,

even for euros.

And yet this girl you
have no connection to...

she beats me.

My thumb is raw

from all of the doing-a this.

[GRUNTS]

That's a boof.

[CAR HORN HONKS]

Coming, Mom.

I can't let you go.

Racing is too dangerous.

Dad, it's fine.

But I had a dream last
night that I was Wario

and I bombed you off of
Rainbow Road into oblivion.

I'm not in danger just
because you dreamed

a bunch of crazy stuff from Mario Kart.

What's Mario Kart?

I am going to the race.

It's my job to keep you safe.

You never cared about that when
you were driving like a maniac.

Well, through some miracle of therapy,

I'm in the driver's seat now,
and I'm enjoying myself,

and that's when you choose
to care about my safety?!

You summed up things perfectly.

So you'll stay home?

No. I'm in control.

Marge, stop her.
I've never been more worried.

Well, I've never been more relaxed.

Hey, Mom, can I drive?

Sure, give it a sh*t.

No!

- ♪
- [ARBORDAY] Today,

the KF-1 karting season

culminates in a two-mile
loop through Springfield.

A sad ruin, once home

to a thriving nipple tassel
manufacturing industry.

Stupid Dad, worried about my safety.

Remember the time he forgot
me at a Renaissance fair?

I had to get a ride home
from the turkey leg wench.

Oh, honey, your dad's not used
to being the one who's nervous.

He just wants what's best for himself.

Thanks for flying out, Bippe.

[ITALIAN ACCENT]
I know Paolo cannot race

without his secret w*apon.

Andiamo!

[TOOLS WHIRRING]

Aw, Bart.

You remember that Paolo likes gelato

after I told you over and over

that I like gelato.

You are my fratello

from another mamma mia.

Oh, you must be
Bart's new Italian friend.

Well, good luck in the race.

You're gonna need it
to b*at Bart's sister.

[GASPS]

Bart Simpson,

you are the brother

of Lisa Simpson?

Um, uh, well, um, only by blood.

Traditore!

No, no. [SPEAKING ITALIAN]

[SPEAKS ITALIAN]

[OVERLAPPING ARGUMENT IN ITALIAN]

Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Wednesday!

Mwah. Bart, you break-a my heart,

like snap-a the breadstick.

Boof.

Aah! [GRUNTS]

You're not watching the race?

I'm too worried about Lisa.
My only daughter...

Uh, there's Maggie.

...is rocketing around on
a flaming death-mobile!

Why does no one else
care about Lisa's safety?

She's fine. See?

[ARBORDAY] From the pole position,

Lisa Simpson immediately

takes the initiative.

What's initiative?

Why does she have it? Is it safe?

[PHONE DINGS]

Stupid Team Dooshé.

Those euro jerks forgot to remove me

from their text thread.

"Sabotaggio"?

Sabotaggio?

Ooh, is that some kind
of delicious spiced ham?

It means they sabotaged Lisa's kart!

Oh, God, I knew she was in danger.

My overreacting is now just...

[GASPS] reacting.

[ARBORDAY] It's the final lap of
the Springfield Little Grand Prix,

and the karts are tighter
than a royal corgi's collar

as they head into Lard Lad turn.

Perfecto, Team Dooshé.

You loosened all the bolts
on Lisa's kart. Boof!

[ARBORDAY] We have contact!

In the storm,
I am the calm at the center.

Why is her wheel not-a falling off?

Aah!

Sabotaggio.

Okay, missing a wheel, no brakes,

still in control.

Okay, now I'm not in control,

but still calm.

Wow, I have a great therapist.

She's gonna die!

Marge, I learned my lesson. I was right.

Lisa's not safe.

Aah! Sabotaggio!

- Dad!
- Don't worry, sweetie.

I'm gonna get you out of this mess

the way I got you into this mess:

by driving like a maniac!

Stay behind me.

Aw, you're brake checking me.

But now I'm brake checking with love.

Oh! I-a lose.

This sport is stupid-o.

And now I fade away to Ibiza

to a quiet life as a beach DJ.

Boof.

Dad, thank you.
You've made me feel safe.

And I always will.

♪

Shh.