Programma Televisivo: The Simpsons - 35x12
♪ The Simpsons ♪ {\an8}[announcer] It's the final lap at the Springfield Little Grand Prix, {\an8}and the karts are tighter than a royal corgi's collar {\an8}as they head into Lard Lad Turn!
{\an8}[engines revving] {\an8}We have contact!
{\an8}Things are looking bloody grim for the rising star of KF-1, Kids Formula One, {\an8}Lisa Simpson.
{\an8}Simpson spins out.
{\an8}[all gasp] {\an8}[tires squeal] {\an8}[announcer] Look at that icy calm.
{\an8}Clearly this pre-tween dynamo has never felt a modicum of unease {\an8}in any automobile.
{\an8}Dad, you're gonna hit the median!
{\an8}- All part of the plan.
[tires squeal] {\an8}[Lisa screaming] {\an8}[screaming] {\an8}Bart, soccer practice.
Go, go, go!
{\an8}[Bart] Whoa!
{\an8}Goal!
{\an8}Dad, please.
You don't have to hurry like this.
{\an8}Cut me off?
I cut you off!
{\an8}- [engine revs] He didn't cut you off!
He's just driving!
{\an8}Hope you like brakes because today it's all-you-can-eat, baby!
{\an8}[Lisa] Ah!
{\an8}Dad, stop brake checking him!
[grunting] {\an8}Speed bump, sweetie.
We're gonna get a little air.
[groans] [tires squeal] Argh.
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?
[groans] 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.
[whimpers] 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?
[sizzles] Well, Dad, 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!
[groans, grunts] [tires squeal] [horn honks] 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!
[screams] [tires screech] [Lisa, Marge scream] Did you flip over?
I'm not the one on trial here.
Your trial is 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.
[groaning] 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.
[barking] Monsters.
Monsters all.
[groans] So, he's afraid of germs on toilet seats?
No...
[sighs] ...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.
{\an8}[cheering] By driving a go-kart, you can feel a measure of control in your relationship with motor vehicles.
I don't wanna 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.
See?
I could've killed a tire!
[sighs] Well, we tried.
I am outta here.
Gonna get this back to the starting area and...
[engine revs] Ooh.
That wasn't so bad.
[chuckles] Whoo!
Zippy!
We can try other approaches.
They're making up new therapies all the time.
[sighs] I really hoped this one would work.
It's working!
I'm finally in control.
[gasps] Doctor, you cured her!
We don't like to use the word "cure."
[laughs] But I'm okay with "miracle."
Whoo-hoo!
{\an8}[announcer] Johann Von Schwarzvalder III cuts that turn {\an8}sharper than his mother cuts the crusts off his egg and cress sandwiches.
{\an8}He might hit 30 miles an hour!
One small slipup means a playdate with disaster.
{\an8}Unsupervised!
Kids Formula One: Karts of Thunder!
Episode five: "Leadfoot Lisa."
{\an8}After dominating local races, {\an8}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?
[chuckles] 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.
[grunts] [cheering] Candy!
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.
[audience member] Oh, yes!
[cheering] European racing teams have descended upon Springfield and, as always, the crew to beat is Italy's Team Dooshé.
Their charismatic star is Paolo Paoletti, son of tracksuit mogul, Fila Fendi Paoletti.
{\an8}In the number seven Children's Strength Tylenol kart.
America is such a wonderfully disgusting country.
All the guns and the "bill-hillies," and all 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 ask for vitello alla caper.
What is this?
Beanie Weenies.
[sobs] Why do you hate my mouth, huh?
Why?
[sobbing] [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.
It just might cost you a little.
Whatever it takes.
I give you one of each color.
Purple, blue, green, purple again.
Mmm.
[speaking Italian] Finally, somebody around here with a no accent!
Bartolomeo, you make Paolo so happy.
[sobs] You are Team Dooshé now.
I make it rain on you!
Boof!
Boof!
Boo-Boof!
Boo-Boof!
[announcer] Gentlekids, start your two-stroke engines.
{\an8}I can't believe it.
{\an8}My girl's first international go-kart race.
{\an8}Did you put on sunblock?
{\an8}I'm in a fireproof suit.
{\an8}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.
[laughs] {\an8}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 gotta 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.
[tires squeal] Oh, my God.
Look how fast she's going.
I'm not concerned in the least.
Then me am concerned in the most.
I need the stress yarn.
Relax, Homie.
She's winning.
{\an8}Which means she's going faster than everybody else.
What am I even knitting?
Oh, it's golf club covers.
{\an8}[whoops] {\an8}Boof!
Time for your bedtime sweet dream routine.
Here's your night-terror teddies, and I'll set the night-light to "boogeyman banisher."
[chuckles] 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.
[whimpering] [grunts, whimpering] My fault.
All on me.
[Italian accent] It's me, Lisa-Mario.
[beeping] Whoo-hoo!
Thanks to my papa, I'm risking my life!
And I'm a dream version of Milhouse.
[screams] [Italian accent] It's me, Wario.
My bad parenting has led to your doom.
[cackles] Trauma bomb!
Wah!
[screams] It's me, Wario.
It's all my fault.
Wah!
[disco music playing] 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 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 "died by suicide," or "of suicide"?
[groans] 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 this.
[grunts] {\an8}That's boof.
[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've 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 shot.
No!
[upbeat music playing] [announcer] 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.
{\an8}Remember the time he forgot me at a Renaissance Faire?
{\an8}I had to get a ride home from the Turkey Leg Wench.
{\an8}Oh, honey, your dad's not used to being the one who's nervous.
{\an8}He just wants what's best for himself.
Thanks for flying out, Bippe.
I know Paolo cannot race without his secret weapon.
[speaking Italian] {\an8}Aw, Bart.
You remembered that Paolo likes gelato, {\an8}after I told you over and over that I like gelato.
{\an8}You are my fratello from another mamma mia.
{\an8}Oh, you must be Bart's new Italian friend.
{\an8}Well, good luck in the race.
{\an8}You're gonna need it to beat Bart's sister.
[gasps] Bart Simpson.
You are the brother of Lisa Simpson?
Uh...
[stammers] Well, uh, only by blood.
[speaking Italian] [both arguing in Italian] [Bart] ..."Euro Trash"...
[both arguing in Italian] Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Wednesday!
Bart, you break my heart like snap the breadstick.
Boof.
[tires squeal] [groans, 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?
[announcer] From the pole position, Lisa Simpson immediately takes the initiative.
What's "initiative"?
Why does she have it?
Is it safe?
[phone beeps] Stupid Team Dooshé.
Those Euro jerks forgot to remove me from their text thread.
{\an8}"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.
[announcer] It's the final lap at the Springfield Little Grand Prix, and the karts are tighter than a royal corgi's collar as they head into Lard Lad Turn!
Perfetto, Team Dooshé.
You loosened all the bolts on Lisa's kart.
Boof.
{\an8}[announcer] We have contact!
In the storm, I am the calm at the center.
{\an8}Why is her wheel not falling off?
[screams] [squealing] [speaking Italian] {\an8}- Okay.
Missing a wheel.
No brakes.
[squealing] Still in control.
[metal clanks] 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!
[shrieks, speaking Italian] 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!
[brakes squealing] {\an8}Aw, you're brake checking me.
But now I'm brake checking with love.
{\an8}[screams] I lose!
This sport is stupido.
{\an8}And now I fade away to Ibiza, to a quiet life as a beach deejay.
{\an8}Boof.
Dad, thank you.
You've made me feel safe.
And I always will.
Shh!
{\an8}[engines revving] {\an8}We have contact!
{\an8}Things are looking bloody grim for the rising star of KF-1, Kids Formula One, {\an8}Lisa Simpson.
{\an8}Simpson spins out.
{\an8}[all gasp] {\an8}[tires squeal] {\an8}[announcer] Look at that icy calm.
{\an8}Clearly this pre-tween dynamo has never felt a modicum of unease {\an8}in any automobile.
{\an8}Dad, you're gonna hit the median!
{\an8}- All part of the plan.
[tires squeal] {\an8}[Lisa screaming] {\an8}[screaming] {\an8}Bart, soccer practice.
Go, go, go!
{\an8}[Bart] Whoa!
{\an8}Goal!
{\an8}Dad, please.
You don't have to hurry like this.
{\an8}Cut me off?
I cut you off!
{\an8}- [engine revs] He didn't cut you off!
He's just driving!
{\an8}Hope you like brakes because today it's all-you-can-eat, baby!
{\an8}[Lisa] Ah!
{\an8}Dad, stop brake checking him!
[grunting] {\an8}Speed bump, sweetie.
We're gonna get a little air.
[groans] [tires squeal] Argh.
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?
[groans] 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.
[whimpers] 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?
[sizzles] Well, Dad, 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!
[groans, grunts] [tires squeal] [horn honks] 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!
[screams] [tires screech] [Lisa, Marge scream] Did you flip over?
I'm not the one on trial here.
Your trial is 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.
[groaning] 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.
[barking] Monsters.
Monsters all.
[groans] So, he's afraid of germs on toilet seats?
No...
[sighs] ...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.
{\an8}[cheering] By driving a go-kart, you can feel a measure of control in your relationship with motor vehicles.
I don't wanna 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.
See?
I could've killed a tire!
[sighs] Well, we tried.
I am outta here.
Gonna get this back to the starting area and...
[engine revs] Ooh.
That wasn't so bad.
[chuckles] Whoo!
Zippy!
We can try other approaches.
They're making up new therapies all the time.
[sighs] I really hoped this one would work.
It's working!
I'm finally in control.
[gasps] Doctor, you cured her!
We don't like to use the word "cure."
[laughs] But I'm okay with "miracle."
Whoo-hoo!
{\an8}[announcer] Johann Von Schwarzvalder III cuts that turn {\an8}sharper than his mother cuts the crusts off his egg and cress sandwiches.
{\an8}He might hit 30 miles an hour!
One small slipup means a playdate with disaster.
{\an8}Unsupervised!
Kids Formula One: Karts of Thunder!
Episode five: "Leadfoot Lisa."
{\an8}After dominating local races, {\an8}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?
[chuckles] 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.
[grunts] [cheering] Candy!
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.
[audience member] Oh, yes!
[cheering] European racing teams have descended upon Springfield and, as always, the crew to beat is Italy's Team Dooshé.
Their charismatic star is Paolo Paoletti, son of tracksuit mogul, Fila Fendi Paoletti.
{\an8}In the number seven Children's Strength Tylenol kart.
America is such a wonderfully disgusting country.
All the guns and the "bill-hillies," and all 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 ask for vitello alla caper.
What is this?
Beanie Weenies.
[sobs] Why do you hate my mouth, huh?
Why?
[sobbing] [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.
It just might cost you a little.
Whatever it takes.
I give you one of each color.
Purple, blue, green, purple again.
Mmm.
[speaking Italian] Finally, somebody around here with a no accent!
Bartolomeo, you make Paolo so happy.
[sobs] You are Team Dooshé now.
I make it rain on you!
Boof!
Boof!
Boo-Boof!
Boo-Boof!
[announcer] Gentlekids, start your two-stroke engines.
{\an8}I can't believe it.
{\an8}My girl's first international go-kart race.
{\an8}Did you put on sunblock?
{\an8}I'm in a fireproof suit.
{\an8}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.
[laughs] {\an8}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 gotta 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.
[tires squeal] Oh, my God.
Look how fast she's going.
I'm not concerned in the least.
Then me am concerned in the most.
I need the stress yarn.
Relax, Homie.
She's winning.
{\an8}Which means she's going faster than everybody else.
What am I even knitting?
Oh, it's golf club covers.
{\an8}[whoops] {\an8}Boof!
Time for your bedtime sweet dream routine.
Here's your night-terror teddies, and I'll set the night-light to "boogeyman banisher."
[chuckles] 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.
[whimpering] [grunts, whimpering] My fault.
All on me.
[Italian accent] It's me, Lisa-Mario.
[beeping] Whoo-hoo!
Thanks to my papa, I'm risking my life!
And I'm a dream version of Milhouse.
[screams] [Italian accent] It's me, Wario.
My bad parenting has led to your doom.
[cackles] Trauma bomb!
Wah!
[screams] It's me, Wario.
It's all my fault.
Wah!
[disco music playing] 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 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 "died by suicide," or "of suicide"?
[groans] 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 this.
[grunts] {\an8}That's boof.
[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've 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 shot.
No!
[upbeat music playing] [announcer] 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.
{\an8}Remember the time he forgot me at a Renaissance Faire?
{\an8}I had to get a ride home from the Turkey Leg Wench.
{\an8}Oh, honey, your dad's not used to being the one who's nervous.
{\an8}He just wants what's best for himself.
Thanks for flying out, Bippe.
I know Paolo cannot race without his secret weapon.
[speaking Italian] {\an8}Aw, Bart.
You remembered that Paolo likes gelato, {\an8}after I told you over and over that I like gelato.
{\an8}You are my fratello from another mamma mia.
{\an8}Oh, you must be Bart's new Italian friend.
{\an8}Well, good luck in the race.
{\an8}You're gonna need it to beat Bart's sister.
[gasps] Bart Simpson.
You are the brother of Lisa Simpson?
Uh...
[stammers] Well, uh, only by blood.
[speaking Italian] [both arguing in Italian] [Bart] ..."Euro Trash"...
[both arguing in Italian] Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Wednesday!
Bart, you break my heart like snap the breadstick.
Boof.
[tires squeal] [groans, 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?
[announcer] From the pole position, Lisa Simpson immediately takes the initiative.
What's "initiative"?
Why does she have it?
Is it safe?
[phone beeps] Stupid Team Dooshé.
Those Euro jerks forgot to remove me from their text thread.
{\an8}"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.
[announcer] It's the final lap at the Springfield Little Grand Prix, and the karts are tighter than a royal corgi's collar as they head into Lard Lad Turn!
Perfetto, Team Dooshé.
You loosened all the bolts on Lisa's kart.
Boof.
{\an8}[announcer] We have contact!
In the storm, I am the calm at the center.
{\an8}Why is her wheel not falling off?
[screams] [squealing] [speaking Italian] {\an8}- Okay.
Missing a wheel.
No brakes.
[squealing] Still in control.
[metal clanks] 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!
[shrieks, speaking Italian] 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!
[brakes squealing] {\an8}Aw, you're brake checking me.
But now I'm brake checking with love.
{\an8}[screams] I lose!
This sport is stupido.
{\an8}And now I fade away to Ibiza, to a quiet life as a beach deejay.
{\an8}Boof.
Dad, thank you.
You've made me feel safe.
And I always will.
Shh!