Treehouse of Horror

Credits
Episode Number 7F04 (#216)
Created by Matt Groening; Developed by James L. Brooks, Matt Groening, Sam Simon
Executive Producers James L. Brook, Matt Groening, Sam Simon
Starring Dan Castellaneta, Julie Kavner, Nancy Cartwright, Yeardley Smith, and Harry Shearer
Special Guest Voice James Earl Jones

Story
Bart, Lisa and Maggie are up in the treehouse telling each other scary stories for Halloween. Unimpressed with Lisa's tale, Bart tells two of his own--a story where the Simpsons buy a cursed house and a story where the Simpsons are abducted by aliens who might be trying to eat them. Lisa follows up Bart's stories with a reading of Edgar Allan Poe's "The Raven" which Bart doesn't find scary at all. The kids go to bed sure they will have no trouble getting to sleep. Meanwhile, Homer had been eavesdropping on them the whole time and is now too scared to go sleep. As Marge turns off the light, Homer laments to himself that he "hates Halloween" as a wolf howls in the background.

written by John Swartzwelder; directed by Wes Archer

The Simpsons have just bought a beautiful older home for pennies on the dollar. Unfortunately, the walls bleed, there's a vortex in the kitchen, and there's a disembodied voice telling Bart, Lisa, Maggie, and Homer to kill each other. Marge just wants to leave but Homer convinces them to sleep on it and see how they feel about their cursed house in the morning. Marge gets fed up after finding her family circling each other with knives in their hands in the middle of the night. They then discover the ancient Indian burial ground in the basement and Marge tells the house that they live there now so it'll just have to get used to it.

The house ponders this for a bit but opts to destroy itself rather than live with the Simpsons. "You can't help but feel a little rejected," Lisa says as they walk away.

written by Jay Kogen & Wallace Wolodarsky; directed by Rich Moore

The Simpsons are outside, barbecuing, with Homer putting way too much lighter fluid into the grill. After an amazing fireball, an alien spaceship appears and beams each of the Simpsons up. They soon meet their tentacled abductors, Kang and Kodos, and all they want to do is please the Simpsons and they do that by stuffing their faces full of the finest cuisine.

Lisa begins feeling suspicious about the Rigilians and she should because they are acting rather suspicious. After finding a book titled "How To Cook Humans", it's soon discovered that it's a book called "How To Cook for Forty Humans" and the Simpsons are returned to Earth for distrusting the aliens.

written by Edgar Allan Poe and Sam Simon; directed by David Silverman

In a direct adaptation of Edgar Allan Poe's classic poem, Bart is portrayed as the raven while Homer is the lead character. James Earl Jones narrates. The story follows a raven harassing a man who is lamenting the loss of his beloved Lenore. Demanding to know what the raven is doing and why it is there, the raven only replies "Nevermore!", driving the man insane.

Random Observations

• This was the first episode that showed me what you could do with animation. "The Raven" segment really impressed and got me interested in Poe, eventually buying his complete works and reading every single word of it. Great inspiration in those pages. I highly suggest picking up a copy.

• This is also the very first Treehouse of Horror which would become an ongoing Halloween event every year. The episode gives the writers, directors and producers freedom to do stories they can't normally do in an average episode.

• When the movers are done moving the Simpsons into their bad dream house, Homer tips them a dollar. "A buck," the mover says. "Glad there's a curse on this place."

• Marge goes into the kitchen and notices a swirling thing in the wall. "Homer? What's this thing in the wall?" The casual delivery is great. There are some amazing line reads in this episode that shows that a lot of what made The Simpsons one of the greatest shows on television is the voice acting. It's very rare to have a voice cast this amazing and it's one of the few voice casts where everything is perfect--you can't change the actor and still have the same effect.

• The family is about to leave the house and Homer is trying to convince them to stay: "It's a fixer-upper. What's the problem? We get a bunch of priests in here..."

• The house is telling the family to grab a weapon and kill each other. Lisa is told to grab a butcher knife which is in her bedside table.

• Sure, the house may be built on an ancient Indian burial ground, but the graves all look untouched.

• Lisa, after the house destroyed itself: "It chose to destroy itself rather than live with us."

• I've always loved how much lighter fluid Homer sprays into the grill. I love the callback to this scene years later in "Lisa the Vegetarian."

• Kang: "Grow large with food." Another great line and great read.

• Kang and Kodos get over a million channels on their spaceship but HBO still costs extra.

• Homer opens his chamber door to reveal "...Darkness there, and nothing more." Bart: "You know what would've been scarier than nothing?"
  Lisa: "What?"
  Bart: "Anything!"

• Lisa, after Bart is unaffected by Edgar Allan Poe: "It was written in 1845. Maybe people were easier to scare back then."

Supercomics #2

Alix Kincaid staggered into her apartment on Essex Street in New York City. As she walked down the hall, she removed her shoes, pants, and belly shirt, leaving them in a trail down the hall. She grabbed an oversized t-shirt in her room and put it on then collapsed on her bed. She had just fallen asleep when the alarm went off. She ignored it and let it beep.

“Alix! Can’t you hear that?” her mom shouted from the doorway. “You need to get up. You’re not missing school again.”

Alix slowly rose from the bed and stood up. She turned her back to her mother and removed her shirt, grabbing another one from the floor.

“You should really wear a bra,” her mother said.

“My boobs, my rules,” Alix said.

“What time did you get home?”

“I don’t know. Late.”

“What were you doing out so late?”

“Mom,” Alix looked straight at her mother’s eyes. “I’m not gonna lie to you. What’s for breakfast?” Alix walked past her mom and back down the hall where her clothes were still laying.

“Don’t avoid the question, Alix!” her mom shouted.

“Why does it matter where I was? Nothing bad happened and I came home.”

“It matters because no matter what you think I care about you and love you. I am your mother!”

“I know. You keep reminding me,” Alix rolled her eyes. “There’s nothing to eat here. Can I have a couple bucks to buy breakfast?” she asked, eyeing her mom’s purse.

“I guess. But just take the five. I want you to come right home after school, okay? I’ll make a good dinner and we can talk.”

“Talk? About what?”

“Just talk. We never talk anymore…” she brushed Alix’s short black hair from her eyes.

“We never talked before,” Alix interrupted.

“Regardless. Right after school.”




“So I’m beginning to think those pills Paolo gave us last night were fake,” Traci said, standing outside the stall in the girl’s bathroom at school. “I mean, I started coming down pretty quickly after I took them and normally I get a pretty good buzz going that lasts. Last night I just didn’t feel it as much as I usually do. Jesus, what are you doing in there?”

“They were real Traci, I can vouch for Paolo. Also,” she opened the door to the stall, “what the hell would I be doing in here?”

“I dunno. I’ve seen a lot of things happening in a bathroom,” Traci shrugged.

“Come on. Let’s go outside. I need a smoke.”

Outside, Alix and Traci sat on the basketball court watching some boys play basketball. Alix was slowly smoking her cigarette. “My mom wants to ‘talk’ when I get home. She wants to make a nice dinner and have a mother-daughter conversation,” Alix said.

“How dare she,” Traci said.

“It could be worse,” Alix said, exhaling smoke. “She could want to take me to the mall.”

The girls stood up and began walking back to the school. A basketball flew through the air and hit Alix on the side of the head.”

“Ow!” she screamed.

“Nice catch,” said one of the boys.

“That hurt, Diego!” Alix yelled angrily.

“Not like there’s anything up there to hurt,” Diego scoffed. A couple of his friends chuckled.

“Look Traci,” Alix held up the basketball, “we now have proof that Diego has at least one ball.”

Diego got in Alix’s face and smirked. “I didn’t hear you complaining a couple weeks ago.”

Alix took one last drag on her cigarette and threw it down. “I didn’t have to complain. The bored look on my face said it all.” And she exhaled the smoke in Diego’s face.

Diego stared at Alix as she smiled at him. “Bitch!” he said as he slapped her across the face. Diego turned around. “Come on, guys. Let’s go in.”

Alix felt the warm area where Diego slapped her and got angrier with every passing second. Traci walked over to her and held her. Alix began screaming and running toward Diego. She then punched Diego square in the back. Traci shuddered at the sound of the crack. Diego fell to the ground. Traci saw what had happened and began screaming.

Alix noticed what she did and began crying. She saw a couple of teachers and security officers running toward her. Alix began panicking and ran away in the other direction.




“If Alix comes home, please give us a call,” the police officer said, handing Alix’s mom a business card. “We need to get a statement from her. We’re not sure if the boy will ever walk again or if his parents are going to press charges.”

“Thank you, officer. I wish I knew where she ran off to,” Alix’s mom glanced at the card and sighed. The officer tipped his hat and she shut the door. She went into the kitchen where the table was set and dinner hot and ready. She sat down to prepare to eat. “Damn it, Alix.”

There was a knock at the door. Alix’s mom got back up and opened the door. There was a young boy standing in the hallway.

“Yes? Is this about Alix?”

The kid pulled a gun from his jacket and began shooting at her. Three shots were fired. One went into her leg, the other into her shoulder, and the third into her stomach. She fell to the floor and the kid ran away. Blood poured out of her wounds and pooled beneath her.

Alix ran into the hospital and into her mom’s room in the intensive care unit. She was sobbing and having a hard time catching her breath. “Oh, Mom! I’m so sorry. That should’ve been me. I should’ve came right home. I am so, so sorry. You’ll never forgive me for this and you shouldn’t have to. I am so sorry. Mom, I love you…” she cried on her Mom for several minutes until a nurse escorted her out of the room.

Half an hour later, Alix stood on the edge of a tall tenement, still crying and looking out over the city. Alix braced herself, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. “I’ll see you soon, Daddy,” she whispered.

“It’s not that bad,” someone said behind her, a hand on her shoulder. “Your mother will be all right. You are much stronger than you think. In more ways than one.”

“What are you talking about?” Alix asked.

“Come down off the ledge and I’ll tell you,” Dmitri helped Alix off the ledge and put a coat around her. “We’ve been watching you, Alix. You have a special gift which you demonstrated on that poor boy earlier today.”

“Please don’t remind me,” Alix said.

“I would like to enlist you into an elite team of superheroes. We need your powers to find and stop someone,” Dmitri said.

“What about my Mom? What about Diego?”

“The government will gladly take care your mom both in the hospital and out. She will recover fully. As for Diego, we will pay his medical expenses but we have convinced his parents that they shouldn’t pursue anything legal and we are currently infiltrating and disbanding the street gang that he was a part of. They are no longer a threat to your mom or the neighborhood in general.”

“Who are you?” Alix asked suspiciously.

“I am Dmitri Sylvester. Let’s find someplace warmer and talk.”

Ipomoea #4

"We’re going to die,” Rizzo groaned.

“We’re all going to die,” Sabrina replied.

“No, I meant soon.”

“We will be fine. Cardy and Robot will realize something is wrong and come look for us.”

“In an hour, those terraforming charges go off. The atmosphere gets warmer, the ice melts, and we plunge into a newly created ocean.”

“We don’t know that. The planet may be all land and all the water will pool into a basin or something.”

“I wish I could be that optimistic,” Rizzo said. “Where do you get that from? Neither Mom or Dad were like that.”

“Mom had her moments but I think I get it from Aunt Sonja. She was eternally optimistic. Even about the cancer that eventually killed her,” Sabrina said. “You should take the officer’s exam.”

“Me? Why?”

“Well, for one thing, you wouldn’t be trapped on this planet waiting to die.”

“No. But I would be dead.”

“Good point,” Sabrina nodded. “Still, you should take it. You’re smart and you actually know how stuff works.”

“A guy like me isn’t going to become an officer,” Rizzo scoffed. “I didn’t go to college.”

“But you know how these terraforming things work. I’m not saying you become a colonel or commander but officer, private, corporal at least.”

“Did you know that my career and life planning teacher called me a failure?”

“No,” Sabrina gasped slightly. “Ms. Segundis? Why?”

“I don’t know. What would cause any teacher to say that to one of their students?”

“I know that you had problems in school. I didn’t really know how bad it was,” Sabrina said.

“I nearly dropped out but my hatred of Assistant Principal Stokeler made me stay.”

“Stokeley was an ass. What’d he do to upset you?”

“I was doing bad in, like, all my classes. He called me in to talk to me about my grades and attendance and asked me what I wanted to do after graduation. I said ‘circus roustabout’ and instead of encouraging me to aim higher, he spoke down to me and encouraged me to get out of the way so the other kids could learn.”

“That seems harsh,” Sabrina said. “Wait, you said ‘circus roustabout’ despite being in high school after the Ferris Wheel Massacre and Great Clown Uprising destroyed the circus industry?”

“It was a joke.”

“What did you want to do?”

“I was 17. I didn’t really know. Maybe a musician,” he shrugged.

“You don’t know how to play an instrument,” Sabrina responded.

“Yes, I know that, Mr. Stokeley.”

“Just so you know, it wasn’t easy being your younger sister in high school. Teachers dreaded me being in their class and I had to constantly keep proving myself. Even when they knew that I was nothing like you, they still treated me like Lester.”

“I’m 27 now and if Mr. Stokeley asked me what I wanted to be now I still wouldn’t have any idea,” Rizzo said. “Then I’d punch him in the face.”

Sabrina let a loud laugh escape. “So how’d you end up here?” she asked. “It’s not because you wanted to look out for me and it’s not because of Lisa Yates.”

Rizzo sighed. “Remember when I was dating Nicole?”

“Yeah, you really loved each other. When you two broke up, it was really a surprise.”

“Not to me. She had this friend that she would constantly talk to and I always joked that they might as well date and Nicole always reassured me that they were just friends. Then one day, Nicole wrote me a letter that Ryan was shipping out and that she was going with him and they were getting married.”

“We all thought that you were going to marry her. We all really liked her.”

“I liked her, too. So I wandered around for a bit and when you were going to ship out, I decided to do the same thing that Nicole did. Ship out with you.”

“I’m not marrying you, Lester,” Sabrina rolled her eyes.

“You’ll cave someday,” Rizzo said. “By the way, guess who Ryan worked for?”

“Oh my God. Really? Did he work for us?”

“Different ship but yeah. He actually has your job.”

“So you became what you hate.”

“So much hate. I honestly hope that Nicole and Ryan’s ship goes through a wormhole and that they aren’t off-ship,” Rizzo said. “Was high school really that hard for you?”

“It wasn’t terrible. It got tiring constantly being compared to you. And I got compared to you on everything. Even hair.”

Rizzo thought for a second about his hair. His hair back in high school was long and stringy. Her hair was long but taken care of. “Is that why you shaved your head your junior year?”

“I didn’t shave my head. I cut off all of my hair. There’s a difference.”

Thoooom! What sounded like an explosion shook the Blue Dwarf.

“Well, we’re boned,” Rizzo exclaimed.

“At least we’re spending our last moments together as a family. Who else in our situation could say that?”

“Who else has ended up in our situation?”

“Orion III?” Sabrina said.

“Orion III,” Rizzo scoffed. “Duh, I want to send a bunch of people to die on a mission to Mars because it will prove how amazing of a president I am,” he mocked. “Idiot,” he scoffed again.

“Yeah, they’re in here,” Cardy said, coming into the hold. Robot followed behind.

“Cardy,” both Rizzo and Sabrina exclaimed. She ran up to hug him.

“No time for thanks, right now. Those charges are going off. We need to get back to the ship.”

The four of them loaded themselves into Blue Dwarf III and quickly pulled away from the ground and into the air. As Rizzo and Sabrina looked out to where the Blue Dwarf I was, the land underneath split open but the ship remained. Thunderstorms were starting to form and soon--maybe in a few thousand years--life would form.

Classic Magic #3

The control of fire by early humans was a turning point in the cultural aspect of human evolution. As early ancestors saw, from various lightning strikes, wildfires, and accidental inflammation, fire could provide warmth, protection, and light. Being able to control fire encouraged early humans to move beyond the familiar and proceed into the unknown.

Early humans gained control of fire roughly 400,000 years ago but some evidence indicates some may have controlled it 1 to 1.5 million years ago. But if we were to go further back, back about 2.5 million years ago, we'd find a small tribe of homo habilis living in an area of what would become Tanzania. In this tribe, there were about 60 habilii, the males and females almost even with each other. One the tribesmen, possibly the first of his kind, waved his hand over a pile of dried sticks and started a fire.

It was slightly cold and he had noticed his mate, pregnant with their child, shivering as she slept. He had discovered this ability by accident while hunting. It scared him but when it happened two more times, he thought that he had been given a great gift. Aside from the glowing warmth, he found that he could move things without touching or holding them. If he concentrated really hard, he could pick himself off of the ground. He didn't know how these abilities would help him or his mate or his tribe but he was sure they would appreciate what he could do.

His mate rolled over and saw the flames as she sleepily opened her eyes. She stood up quickly, still screaming, and began trying to stamp out the fire with her bare feet. He ran over to her, trying to explain what that was and what he could do. She stopped screaming when he hugged her and stroked her hair but she was still in a panic.

Their neighbors had rushed over fearing the worst but only saw the couple standing next to the smoldering sticks. They wanted to know what was happening. He knelt down and began explaining, as best he could, but it was still confusing. Finally, he demonstrated. He waved his hand over the sticks and a fire started. His mate jumped back, scared of what her lover had just done. The others jumped back as well and ran off in a panic.

He sighed dejectedly, putting out the fire by dousing it with sand and dirt. He walked over to his mate and touched her shoulder. He grunted an apology and left their dugout to go hunting.




That night, he and his mate slept. Their neighbors gathered in the communal circle and communicated distress to each other. They gathered at the opening to the couple's dugout with sticks and rocks. They quietly walked in. He was asleep, facing the doorway but didn't awake. A neighbor with a stick made the first strike. Another neighbor, with another stick, made a second blow. The man was awake trying to fend off the attack and explain himself through grunts. A third neighbor finally struck with a rock drawing blood.

The man yelled in pain and terror. His mate woke up and scooted away, scared for her life and of her baby's. She watched in fear as the neighbors bludgeoned the man that she lived with, cared for, and mated with. Within minutes, her mate was just a bloody carcass. One of the neighbors approached her cautiously and held out his hand. She took it and, through grunts, explained why they did what they did. She nodded sadly and went with the other man and left the dugout.

The abilities of this unfortunate homo habilis will live on through his mate and his child. She will give birth two months from now and that child will live to have their own children. Those children and their children would eventually evolve to become homo erectus and then homo sapiens, continuing the magical abilities started by this unknown homo habilis.

The magic would spread to other families and continue for centuries all because of this one man who would become unknown to his descendants and to history.

Catman #1

Stately Auburndale Manor was about forty miles outside of Philadelphia. It was raining when Dwight Summers--in his disguise as Catman--arrived which just made him angrier. He had worked his way from Golden City to Philadelphia tracking down leads about The Order of St. Constantin. Auburndale Manor was supposedly a major hideout of the Order on the east coast. There were dozens of cars lining the circular driveway of the Manor so there were at least a decent amount of people here. People he could question. People he could threaten to give him any information on who killed his wife and daughter.

Catman approached the Manor and peered in the window. It was, indeed, a party. It looked like hundreds of people were in attendance. They were all wearing red robes except for the few that were wearing black ones. “Weirdos,” he muttered. He remembered that he was dressed in a cat suit. “I’m at least in this to stand for something,” he said to himself. He began wondering how he should get into the house. Through the back or the roof?

Auburndale Manor was three stories so going through the back would be easier but the element of surprise came from above. Catman compromised and darted to the back of the house and began scaling the wall and windows to the third floor. There was a fancy balcony leading to a grand bedroom. The balcony was unlocked. In the dark room, Catman was nearly invisible, he just had to quietly get to where everyone was on the first floor.

He stared out over the festivities from the top of the stairs. He devised a plan in his head about how all this would go down. He would ignore the one in black robes and go for the ones in red. The reds may not know anything but the ones in black, he wanted to scare.

Catman watched for several minutes until he saw an opening. One of the black robes began talking and everyone turned to watch him. A couple minutes into the black robe’s speech, Catman leapt into the crowd. He landed on several and began throwing punches around to the ones still standing around him.

Like in the cave, he seemed to blackout during the fight. When he came to, many red robes were laid sprawled on the floor. Several had run away but three black robes remained. Catman quickly approached them. Neither of them seemed nervous.

“Priest Andreij,” Catman said.

“What about him?” one of the black robes asked.

“I’m looking for him. I’m looking for who killed my family,” Catman explained.

“If your family was killed, Andreij probably doesn’t know anything about it,” another answered. “The Order is controlled by him but he’s more of a figurehead. Each chapter has its own leader. You know this isn’t going to bring your family back, right?”

Catman’s fist caved in that black robe’s face and he slumped to the floor, blood spilling from his nose and mouth. “Who runs the chapter in Golden City?”

“I don’t know. I’ve met Jack Mancietti, he’s a boxer in Golden City and a member of the Order. He might know who’s in charge.”

“Thank you,” Catman said. He turned and walked away.




Jack Mancietti’s boxing gym was in College Hill, a small neighborhood that used to be home to some of the most educated and wealthy citizens of Golden City. When the college closed, the neighborhood quickly disintegrated.

Mancietti’s Gym gave hope to the kids of the neighborhood. It was a place where the boys could avoid drugs and the prostitutes. After learning about him, Catman was shocked to learn a man like him was a past of this perverted Order.

The gym was unlocked so Catman just walked in. He heard the sounds of fists hitting a sandbag. He walked toward the sound and saw a man punching a sandbag suspended from the ceiling. “Jack Mancietti?”

“Yep,” two more hits.

“Do you belong to the Order of St. Constantin?”

“Who’s asking?”

“I’m Catman. The Order killed my family.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I don’t know anything about that,” Jack said. “But if you beat me in the ring, I’ll tell you who you need to see.”

Tauy Creek Digest #33: Damnation

Benjamin Lindstrom got off the elevator and approached the receptionist desk where a floppy-haired bearded guy was standing and scrolling through his phone. Ben licked his lips and began talking. "Hi, I'm..."

The receptionist cut him off. "We usually don't get bomb threats until after the new issue comes out," he eyed Ben's briefcase.

"What? No. I'm Benjamin Lindstrom. I'm the new editor-in-chief."

"Oh," he trailed off. "Come on, I'll take you to Mr. Perry." They began walking through the office. The whole time the receptionist was scrolling and texting on his phone.

"Do you get a lot of bomb threats?" Ben asked.

"About once a month. We upset a lot of people," they went into an office with 'Editor-In-Chief' on the door. "Mr. Perry, Benjamin Lindstrom is here."

"Thank you, Kyle. Benjamin, how are you?"

"I'm fine, sir. You can call me Ben."

"Okay. Benjamin, you are going to be the overseer of our little group here. You are the moderator and mediator of half a dozen or so voices. You keep them on the rails even if they've already come off," Jack explained.

"What do you mean?"

"Jack, I have what I want the next issue's cover to be," an older man came in carrying a cover mock-up.

"Here's your first fire. Benjamin, this is Fred. Fred, this is Benjamin, the new editor-in-chief," Jack walked out of the office.

"Ah. Okay. Benjamin, I have what I want for the next cover," Fred handed Ben the mock-up.

The picture was the President's head atop the elaborate golden robes of King Henry VIII. The caption underneath read: 'You know you want it.' "We're not using this," Ben said and handed it back.

"Why not? Matt in graphics worked really hard on this," Fred said.

"And I will give him all the kudos he deserves but we are not using it."

"Give me one good reason."

"You're the new editor-in-chief?" a short Hispanic woman with long brown hair and big glasses came into the office.

"Yeah, can you give me one second?" Ben said. "We use provocative but neutral covers. Now, if we split the cover and show the President as a man of the people we could run that," Ben turned to the woman. "Hi."

"Hi, you need to sign off on this," she handed Ben a small stack of papers.

"Okay," he glanced at the top piece of paper. "Thanks, Isabella," he looked back down at the paper. "Whoa. You can't use this title."

"Fire her," a lighter brown-haired woman, very thin and angular, came in. "I warned her about that title."

"What's wrong with it?" Isabella asked.

"You can't call half our readers," he looked down "'fucking morons.'"

"I disagree," Isabella said.

"Fire her," the thin woman said again.

"And you are?" Ben asked her.

"Sarah. I'm the head conservative writer."

"Nice to meet you," Ben said. "I will read this, Isabella, and make sure it is okay but the title has to be changed."

"Fine," Isabella huffed and turned to leave.

"Think of how many people would buy the magazine with this cover," Fred attempted to sway Ben again.

"Yeah, the wrong kind of people who will then call and email about having liberal articles," Ben explained.

"So? Then we just fire Isabella and Justin and hire new conservative writers."

"Told you you couldn't call our readers fucking morons, Isabella," Sarah said quietly.

"At least I didn't want to call our readers retards," Isabella snapped back.

"No. No. I used libtard. Completely different."

"No, it's not. Everyone knows exactly what you mean by libtard and it's offensive."

"Pfft," Sarah scoffed. "Such a snowflake."

"That's enough," Ben shouted. "Fred, we are not using this cover. Get me the articles you are working on and I'll read them and come up with a neutral cover on my own. Isabella, Sarah, we will not--NOT--insult or degrade any--ANY--of our readers. Is that clear?"

"Yes," they both muttered.

"I'll get you my article," Sarah said.

"We can just use your idea of splitting the cover between this and a man of the people one," Fred said.

"No, that ship has sailed. I will choose the cover. If you can handle it, next week maybe you can help with it."

"But why...?"

"Why, Fred? Why? Because I'm the boss, Fred, and I will not be pushed around. I will not be manipulated. And I will do my best to be as fair and balanced as possible. If you don't like that then maybe we will hire some new conservative writers. Clear?"

"Crystal," Fred said. "Can I hang this up in my cubicle?"

Ben sighed. "Of course. Maybe at the end of the year we can do a rejected cover section."

"That'd be cool. Good idea."

"Thanks," Ben said. "Get me your article by the end of the day."

"Yes, boss."

Ben sat down in the chair at his desk and breathed deeply.

"Hi. Hey," someone poked their head into the office. "I heard that I was going to be fired?"

Ben looked at him. "Justin?"

He nodded his head.

"No. I'm not firing anybody."

Justin scoffed. "You guys need to quit pre-firing me when we get a new editor-in-chief," Justin shouted toward the bullpen.

Simpson and Delilah

Credits
Episode Number 7F02 (#215)
Created by Matt Groening; Developed by James L. Brooks, Matt Groening, Sam Simon
Written by Jon Vitti
Directed by Rich Moore
Executive Producers James L. Brooks, Matt Groening, Sam Simon
Starring Dan Castellaneta, Julie Kavner, Nancy Cartwright, Yeardley Smith, and Harry Shearer
Special Guest Voice Harvey Fierstein
Also starring Hank Azaria, Pamela Hayden

Story
While watching TV with the family, Homer sees a commercial for Dimoxinil, a hair growth formula that is guaranteed to grow hair. Homer goes to see his closest Dimoxinil rep who says that the formula costs $1,000. Homer can't afford that so he leaves in tears. At work, Lenny and Carl convince Homer to try to charge the Dimoxinil to the company's insurance. Homer goes back and the Dimoxinil rep agrees and Homer happily goes to bed with Dimoxinil on his head. The next morning, a miracle happens.

Homer begins embracing his new hair by going through all the styles that he missed out on between the 1970s and 1990s. What also happens is that Burns, thinking Homer is a vigorous, young, go-getter, promotes Homer to an executive despite Smithers' misgivings. Along with the promotion, Homer gets to hire an assistant. Homer ends up hiring Karl, an amazing gruff-voiced man who quickly becomes Homer's best friend. Karl even helps Homer when he forgets his anniversary, hiring a guy to sing to Marge and give her flowers and chocolates.

Yeah, he knows what they did later.

As Homer's star starts rising, Smithers becomes increasingly suspicious and begins to look into why Homer suddenly has hair and learns that he is committing insurance fraud. Burns has tasked Homer to give a big speech to the nuclear plant muckety-mucks when Smithers comes in to fire Homer. Karl takes the blame causing Smithers to fire Karl instead. His life starting to fall apart, Homer worries about giving the speech and his worry is made worse when he discovers that Bart has spilled his Dimoxinil. Homer goes bald overnight and even though Karl wrote Homer's speech for him, because he's bald, the muckety-mucks refuse to listen to him. Burns demotes Homer and his life goes back to normal.

Random Observations

• The family is watching TV, game show host: "The capital of North Dakota is named after this German ruler."
  Homer: "Hitler!"
  Marge: "Hitler, North Dakota?"
• The company that makes Dimoxinil is located in Hair City, Utah. It is not a real city.
• Dimoxinil is a take on the real-life hair growth drug, minoxidil, which was approved by the FDA as a hair growth drug for men in 1988. Minoxidil is a genericized name and the most popular and well-known of the trade names is Rogaine.
• The alternative that the Dimoxinil retailer tries to sell Homer is Hair In a Drum which costs $19.95 and any hair growth is purely coincidental.
• The secret to Homer's rise at the Power Plant is his stance on tartar sauce. At the start of the episode, Homer is upset that they only give a small portion of tartar sauce and all the guys run out when it's fish stick day. When Homer is promoted, he is asked how to increase morale at the Plant and he tells Mr. Burns about the tartar sauce. Since an extra portion would only cost an additional ten cents, Burns agrees to it.
• When Homer is complaining about not getting the Dimoxinil, Lenny tells him to just bill it to the company's insurance. Homer is initially hesitant because it's $1,000. Lenny tells him it's no big deal because $1,000 just means Burns won't be able to buy an ivory back scratcher. Later, when Burns learns of the $1,000, he complains that now he can't afford that ivory back scratcher.
• It's clear that Karl is gay but the show doesn't come right out and say it. A great joke, which is very subtle, is when Homer is interviewing potential assistants and they are all women. Homer calls Marge and tells her that all the applicants just want to sleep with him. When Karl walks in and she hears his voice she says "He sounds good, hire him."

• Burns: "I was watching the DuMont last night..." DuMont stopped being a television network back in 1956. It only lasted ten years.
• Homer: "What does my little girl want?"
  Lisa: "An absence of mood swings and some stability in my life."
  Homer: "How about a pony?"
  Lisa: "Okay."
• Karl takes the fall for Homer's insurance fraud and is promptly fired by Smithers.
  Smithers: "What do you care if this guy's bald?"
  Karl: "My reasons are my own."
• This episode has the distinction of being the first televised kiss between two men on network TV. There is some controversy to that though. Some people argue that since these men aren't in a relationship and that the kiss was made in a jokey, off-handed remark, it doesn't count. In 1999, the animated TV show Mission Hill showed a gay couple kissing. A few months later, in 2000, the WB drama Dawson's Creek aired an episode that had two guys kissing. Will we ever definitively decide which kiss was the first? And where does Sammy Davis, Jr. kissing Archie Bunker stand in all this?

• When Burns is lamenting about being bald, he mentions that his age is 81. Burns' age would later be increased all the way to 104 in later seasons.
• Is baldness really as polarizing as it's made out to be here? A lot of successful people I see are bald or has that just changed over the years since this episode aired?

Supercomics #1

“Are you sure that you want to do this?” Dr. Samosian said to Robert Harris. Harris was about to enter his seventh tour in the Army and it was supposed to be the most dangerous tour, going into a city under siege and helping the few civilians fight back. Harris had volunteered for a super solider-type program that would usher in a new era for the military.

Within months, Harris was back on the frontline, about forty percent of his body had been replaced with cybernetic material. His metallic skin glared in the sunlight of the desert. His right eye had been replaced with a glowing red LED that doubled as a computer and a laser. When Harris returned home after almost a year, his wife, Alicia, and children did not appreciate the change in his body or demeanor. His new, almost skeletal look scared his children, and his eye showed no emotion when he looked at Alicia.

“I am the beginning of the future for American soldiers,” Harris said. “I am almost a perfect weapon.”

“I don’t want you to be a perfect weapon,” Alicia said. “Why didn’t you ask what I thought about this before sacrificing your body for...for this.”

“You would’ve said ‘no’,” Harris glared at his wife.

“Of course I would. No wife in her right mind would agree to let their husband do this.”

“It’s for the best,” Harris gently took Alicia’s hands. “You’ll get used to it and everything will be right back to where it was.”

Alicia tried. The metal made Robert heavier which made love-making an unpleasant experience. The metal was also cold and clanged when Robert would move or touch her. It was tolerable but what Alicia didn’t like was the change in Robert’s emotions. He had gotten angrier and every little inconvenience set him off.

“I can’t do it,” Alicia said to a friend over the phone. “Tomorrow, while Robert’s at work, we’re going to leave. I’m so scared of him, I’m not telling anyone where we are going. I’ll let you know that I am safe. Good-bye.”

Robert, using his cybernetic eye, saw Alicia through the walls and heard everything. That night, the house burst into flames almost immediately burning to the ground. Investigators found the three bodies of Alicia and her children still in their beds among the charred rubble. Their throats had been slit almost through to the spine. Suspicion fell on Robert who had vanished into thin air.

“Even if we do find him,” one of the policeman said. “We don’t have the manpower to capture and bring him in.”

“The government created this monster, the government should help find him and bring him to justice,” another said.




For the last decade, Dmitri Sylvester had acquired a team of superheroes that the government wanted to use for your basic police work around the country. They had never actually been used in a major capacity before but with Robert on the run and considered extremely armed and dangerous, the team finally made their public debut.

On the team was their leader, America, the first person that Dmitri contacted. Matthew Coffin was the epitome of the American ideal, at least physically. Super strong and super fast, and very agile. Agent Spider, Miguel Stoll, was like a real-life Spider-Man. Geo-Whiz, Brandon Taggart, who could manipulate the earth and was really smart. Dmitri’s own daughter, Vanessa, who went by Smoke because she was just a wisp of smoke in female form. Lastly, Jerome Cooper, or Database, smarter than Brandon, he could process information within seconds to come up any and all possible outcomes. Jerome was also very opinionated.

“Leave it to our government,” he smiled and shook his head. “They build an unstoppable super soldier but don’t think about installing a kill switch. It’s like they don’t fully think things through.”

“That’s enough, Jerome,” Dmitri said. “They’re still only human. Not everyone can be like you.”

“This is totally going on my blog though,” Jerome said. “The public needs to know this dangerous man is out there and it’s because of the government that he’s so dangerous.”

That night, Jerome had long posted his blog post about Robert Harris, the government’s cybernetic soldier program, and the gruesome murders of Harris’ family. Jerome was alone in his apartment, browsing his favorite social websites. “You wrote some mean things,” a voice came through the darkness and into his office.

Without needing to think, Jerome responded. “I wrote the truth. It’s not my fault if you find something about you insulting.” Jerome turned around to the see the half man, half robot in his office doorway. “Are you going to turn yourself in?”

“No,” Robert was confused by the question.

“I don’t think so,” Jerome said and stood up. He began looking around the room, calculating odds and scenarios on how to escape from Robert. Robert quickly ran to Jerome, grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off the ground. “Whoa! Let’s think rationally here, it’s just a blog post. Very few people read it,” Jerome croaked as Robert’s grip tightened, making it hard to speak and breathe.

“I didn’t hesitate when I slit my own family’s throats and blew them to bits. Do you think I’d hesitate on killing you?” Robert asked.

“I…” and with three cracks, Robert twisted his wrist, breaking Jerome’s neck. Robert dropped Jerome on the ground then left out the way he got in.

The next day, Dmitri and his team were at Jerome’s apartment. “Okay,” Dmitri sighed as Jerome was taken away, covered up on a stretcher. “Now it’s personal.”

Charles Schulz's Cartooning Influence Felt By Many

Schulz's legacy goes beyond characters

Bill Watterson, the creator of "Calvin and Hobbes," greatly admired Charles Schulz and the influence "Peanuts" has had on the comic strip art form. Before Watterson decided to retire after 10 years, "Calvin and Hobbes" appeared in 2,500 newspapers.

I clipped this article from my local newspaper shortly after Charles Schulz announced his retirement. I was unable to find it online so decided to post it here.

By Bill Watterson, United Feature Syndicate
Comic strip cartooning requires such a peculiar combination of talents that there are very few people who are ever successful at it. Of those, Charles Schulz is in league all his own. Schulz reconfigured the comic strip landscape and dominated it for the last half of its history. One can scarcely overstate the importance of "Peanuts" to the comics, or overstate its influence on all of us who have followed.

By now, "Peanuts" is so thoroughly a part of the popular culture, that one loses sight of how different the strip was from anything else 40 and 50 years ago. We can quantify the strip's success in all its various commercial markets, but the real achievement of the strip lies inside the little boxes of funny pictures Schulz drew every day.

Back when the comics were printed large enough that they could accommodate detailed, elaborate drawings, "Peanuts" was launched with an insultingly tiny format, designed so the panels could be stacked vertically if an editor wanted to run it in a single column. Schulz somehow turned this oppressive space restriction to his advantage and developed a brilliant graphic shorthand and stylistic economy, innovations unrecognizable now that all comics are tiny and Schulz's solutions have been universally imitated. Graphically, the strip is static and spare. Schulz gave up virtually all the "cinematic" devices that create visual drama: there are no fancy perspectives, no interesting croppings, no shadows and lighting effects, no three-dimensional modeling, few props and few settings. Schulz distilled each subject to its barest essence, and drew it straight-on or side view, in simple outlines. But while the simplicity of Schulz's drawings made the strip stand out from the rest, it was the expressiveness within the simplicity that made Schulz's artwork so forceful. Lucy yelling with her head tilted back so her mouth fills her entire face; Linus, horrified, with his hair standing on end; Charlie Brown radiating utter misery with a wiggly, downturned mouth; Snoopy's elastic face pulled up to show large gritted teeth as he fights the Red Baron--these were not just economical drawings, they were funny drawings. More yet, they were beautiful. Drawn with a crow quill-type pen dipped in ink, Schulz's linework had character in its quirky velocity and pressure, unlike the slick, uniform lines of today's markers and technical pens. "Peanuts" could never be drawn by anonymous assistants, as so many other strips were and are--its line is inimitable. The strip looked simple, but Schulz's sophisticated choices reveal a deep understanding of cartooning's strengths. I studied those drawings endlessly as a kid and it was invaluable education in how comics worked.

Indeed, everything about the strip was a reflection of its creator's spirit. "Peanuts" is one of those magical strips that creates its own world. Its world is a distortion of our own, but we enter it on its terms, and in doing so, see our world more clearly. It may seem strange that there are no adults in "Peanuts'" world, but in asking us to identify only with children, Schulz reminds us that our fears and insecurities are not much different when we grow up. We recognize ourselves in Schulz's vividly tragic characters: Charlie Brown's dogged determination in the face of constant defeat, Lucy's self-righteous crabbiness, Linus's need for a security blanket, Peppermint Patty's plain looks and poor grades, Rerun's baffled innocence, Spike's pathetic alienation and loneliness. For a "kid strip" with "gentle humor," it shows pretty dark world, and I think this is what makes the strip so different from, and so much more significant than, other comics. Only with the inspired surrealism of Snoopy does the strip soar into silliness and fantasy. And even then, the Red Baron shoots the doghouse full of holes.




Over the last century, there have been only a handful of truly great comic strips, comics that pushed the boundaries of the medium and tried to do more than tell little jokes as a relief from the atrocities described in the rest of the newspaper. Schulz did it all: he drew a beautiful comic strip, a funny comic strip, and a thoughtful, serious comic strip. For that, "Peanuts" achieved a level of commercial success the comics had never seen before. We should understand, as Schulz did, that the merchandising empire "Peanuts" created would never have worked had the strip not been so consistently good. How a cartoonist maintains this level of quality decade upon decade, I have no insight, but I'm guessing that Schulz is a driven perfectionist who truly loved drawing cartoons more than anything else.

I've never met Charles Schulz, but long ago his work introduced me to what a comic strip could be, and made me want to be a cartoonist myself. He was a hero to me as a kid, and his influence on my work and life is long and deep. I suspect most cartoonists would say something similar. Schulz has given all his readers a great gift, and my gratitude for that tempers my disappointment at the strip's cessation. May there someday be a writer/artist/philosopher/humorist who can fill even a part of the void "Peanuts" leaves behind.

Ipomoea #3

Whoooooooaaarrrp! the air duct squealed next to Sabrina’s head. She angrily glared at the duct, eyebrow raised. Wheeeeeeeek! it squealed again.

“Shut up!” she yelled at the duct.

The duct responded with a Thuhp!

Everything on the ship was now over a million years old. It was pure luck that most everything still worked but the ducts were much more rattly now. Sabrina sobbed and then buried her head under her pillows. She began calming down and released her grip from her pillows. She sighed and began drifting off to sleep.

Whoooooooaaarrrp! the duct squealed again.




“You two are up early,” Sabrina said as she went into the navigation room. Her hair was a mess and she was still in her pajamas. She also still had a hold of her childhood teddy bear that she had brought with her.

“Early? It’s after ten,” Rizzo said.

“You look terrible,” Cardy commented.

“Thanks, Cardy,” Sabrina collapsed into a chair. “I barely slept last night. The air ducts in my room are driving me to kill. Or suicide. Not really sure which way I’m leaning.”

“Just move to another room. Corporal Robbie has a corner barrack but not against the HVAC corridor,” Rizzo said. “I moved into Captain Smith’s room because I knew it would annoy him. Haven’t worn pants since.”

“I moved into one of the medic bays,” Cardy said. Rizzo and Sabrina looked at him oddly. “What? I like the way hospital beds feel.”

“That’s a good idea but it’s not my barrack. It belongs to Corporal Robbie,” Sabrina said.

“I’m sure she won’t mind,” Rizzo said.

“I don’t know,” Sabrina hesitated.

“Here, I’ll ask her,” Rizzo leaned down to a pile of dust near one of the navigation consoles. “Hey, Robbie. Do you mind if Sabrina moves into your room? She said that she doesn’t care because she is dead.”

“Fine,” Sabrina smiled.




“I don’t know if you should take Blue Dwarf on another mission so soon,” Robot-2 worried. “It hasn’t been refueled.”

“Look, Robot, all the other modules are a million years old now. Blue Dwarf is the only one that isn’t. The planet is small enough and we’ve calculated that we have just enough fuel to get there, do our job, and come back,” Rizzo said.

“I don’t even know why you are still continuing to do your job. We should be heading back to Earth,” Robot-2 said.

“Robot,” Rizzo stopped and turned to Robot, “take yourself out of C3PO mode. Everything here runs on its own. If we don’t do what we came out here to do then all we’ve done is waste time, money, and progress. We’re at least getting Scotia-138 done.”

“But there is a 67% probability that Blue Dwarf will run out of gas while you’re down there,” Robot-2 said.

“I think you are making up that number,” Rizzo said.

Rizzo and Robot arrived at the docking bay where Sabrina was waiting next to Blue Dwarf. “Ready?” she asked. “I calculated that we can get this done in four hours.”

“Ugh. Four hours. Maybe we should just head back to Earth.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Robot-2 chimed in.

“Scotia and then we can go back,” Sabrina said.




The Rizzoes flew from Ipomoea to the frozen, barren wasteland of a planet named Scotia. As they approached the surface, the winds blew the Dwarf to and fro. Visibility was below nothing due to the snow. Sabrina hovered several feet above the surface.

Rizzo was lowered down on a platform where he placed a terraforming charge on the surface and then went back up into Blue Dwarf. They did this several hundred more times and was nearly finished when the Blue Dwarf fell to the ground.

“What happened?” Rizzo asked, running into the cockpit.

“Don’t tell Robot, but he was right. We’re out of gas,” Sabrina said.

The ship began powering down, trying to save its limited fuel source. “We need to radio Cardy and Robot to come down here and get us,” Rizzo said.

Sabrina grabbed the radio but only heard static. “I think the snow is blocking communications.”

“Of course it is,” Rizzo shrugged.

“They’ll get suspicious when we’re not back soon. We estimated four hours. They’ll figure it out,” Sabrina was hopeful.

“I hope so,” Rizzo said. “Because it’s going to start getting very cold in here very soon.”