( bell ringing)

( whistle blowing)

( playing the blues)

( honking horn)

D-ohh!

Ahh!!

Uh... Chief Wiggum, Archbishop McGee

distinguished guests

I am pleased to dedicate

this emergency warning system.

In the off-chance of a nuclear disaster

this sign will tell you, the good citizens of Springfield

what to do.

Homer: The joke's on them.

If the core explodes

there won't be any power to light that sign.

And now, I would like to present the man who made this sign possible

by dropping the last of his obstructionist legal challenges.

Montgomery Burns.

Mr. Burns is never late.

Something must be terribly wrong.

There better be.

Nobody leaves Diamond Joe Quimby holding the bag.

( gasping:) Must... turn... over.

Got... to...

greet... dignitaries.

Oh, no!

Mr. Burns! We've got to get a doctor.

Absolutely not.

No quack sawbones

is going to apply his leeches to me

as long as there's an ounce of strength

left in me....

Mmm.

Mr. Burns is suffering

from what we medical men call hypohemia.

In laymen's terms, it's quite simply a lack of blood.

Damn it, doctor, I'm no idiot. I know what hypohemia is.

What I want to know is what can we do about it?

At this point, our only hope is a transfusion.

How long does it take to sterilize a needle?

A few seconds. Oh, skip it!

Just leave me enough to get home.

( chuckling:) I'm afraid it's not that simple.

His blood type is double-o-negative.

It's quite rare.

But I'm b-positive.

Damn my common gutter-blood in my veins.

Smithers, don't feel so bad.

After all, the kidney you donated to me

really hit the spot.

Smithers: Attention all employees!

Our boss and inspiration, Mr. Burns

( choking:) is at death's... death's door.

If you have type double-o-negative blood

I implore you to report to the Bloodmobile outside.

That is all.

I'd give him my blood except for one thing.

What's that?

I don't want to.

I can't believe you guys.

There's a human being out there with millions of dollars

who needs our help

and you don't want to cash in?

That's why you losers are stuck in this crummy dead-end job.

You know Homer, I am your supervisor.

Sorry, sir.

Maggie, look.

What's that?

Lee-mur. Lee-mur.

Zebu.

Zeee-booo.

What are you doing, honey?

I'm trying to teach Maggie that nature doesn't end with the barnyard.

I want her to have all the advantages that I didn't have.

Lisa, we did the best we could.

What's a zebu?

It's like an ox, only it has a hump and a dewlap.

Hump and dewlap.

Hump and dewlap.

Marge!

What's my blood type?

A-positive.

Aw, nuts! Extremely rare blood, and I don't have it.

You know his blood type? How romantic.

A mother knows everything about her family.

Oh yeah? What's my shoe size?

Four-b.

How many teeth do I have?

16 permanent, eight baby.

Earmuffs?

- XL. - Ring?

I don't want you wearing rings,

it looks cheap, but three.

Allergies?

Butterscotch and imitation butterscotch...

And..?

Glow-in-the-dark monster makeup.

Ooh, impressive.

How many hairs on my head? Without looking.

Oh Homey, you have lots of hair.

Why did you want to know your blood type?

Old man Burns is gonna kick off if he doesn't get some

double-o-negative blood,

but nobody at the plant has it.

Bart does.

Whoa! Yes! All right! Whoo!

Congratulations, boy!

You've got a date with a needle.

Hey, wait a minute.

I don't have to give blood.

I have rights, you know.

Yeah, you have the right to remain silent.

Bart, you have to help someone in need.

It's the only decent thing to do.

D-ohhh!

Homer: Bart, it's not like

I'm asking you to give blood for free.

That would be crazy. You're a little young

to understand this

but when you save a rich man's life

he showers you with riches!

Don't you know the story of Hercules and the lion?

Is it a Bible story?

Yeah probably.

Anyway, once upon a time

there was a big, mean lion who got a thorn in his paw

and all the village people tried to pull it out

but nobody was strong enough.

So, they got Hercules

and Hercules used his mighty strength

and bingo!

Anyway, the moral is the lion was so happy

he gave Hercules this big thing of riches.

How did a lion get rich?

It was the olden days.

Oh.

Hey! Let's go!

Emergency! Life or death here!

Just a sec, man.

Whoa, Otto, man.

You work here?

Oh Yeah. During the day, all my friends are in school

so I got a job as a certified bloodletting tech dude.

Now let's get this show on the road.

Okay.

Let me wash up.

( humming "Iron Man" by Black Sabbath)

Homer, brave young Bart...

I don't know which one to hug first.

Uh, the boy.

Eww.

( tires screeching)

( humming)

Oop!

We're ready with the transfusion.

Smithers, I'm not going to make it.

I want to dictate...

my epitaph.

Go ahead.

Charles Montgomery Burns...

Mm-hmm.

American...

Mm-hmm.

And patriot American...

Patriot...

Master of the atom...

Scourge of a despot.

Oh, tyrant, hear his mighty name

and quake!

Smithers!

I'm back!

Burns: Top of the morning to you.

Why, look who's here.

It's... good old... you.

Hi, Mr. Burns.

Oh! Hey, there, mister...

brownshoes.

How about that local sports team?

Mr. Burns-- he's okay.

Jackpot!

( glass breaking)

Ay caramba!

Well, that's game.

Hasta mañana, Oswaldo.

Smithers, I'm back in the pink--

full of pith and vinegar.

Just remarkable, sir.

You know, it's funny, Smithers.

I tried every tincture and poultice and tonic

and patent medicine there is

and all I really needed was

the blood of a young boy.

What was the lad's name?

Bart Simpson, sir.

Who?

He's the son of Homer Simpson--

one of your stiff's in sector 7-G.

Well, the Simpsons will be getting

a very nice surprise in the mail.

Very nice, indeed. ( fiendish laugh)

Bill, bill...

summons, bill...

( gasps)

Wait a minute.

From C.M. Burns.

This is it.

Yes, this is it!

Woo-hoo! Whoo!

Bart, Lisa, Maggie!

Let's do this out in the yard where the neighbors can see.

Lisa, dim the lights.

No! turn on more lights.

Do something.

Yes, Dad.

It's a little thin but that's okay.

It could be a check.

Alright, there's no check.

Just a card, but don't panic.

I'm sure it tells us what we're getting

and where we can pick it up.

"Dear Bart, Thank you kindly for the blood.

Yours truly, Montgomery Burns."

D-ohhh!

It's just a card!

Is that some way to show your gratitude?

No gold, no diamonds, no jewelry...

not even a lousy card.

Wait. There was a card.

That's what got me so mad in the first place!

You don't do things like that to be rewarded.

You do them because a fellow human being needs a helping hand.

Marge, you're my wife and I love you very much

but you're living in a world of make-believe

with flowers and bells and leprechauns

and magic frogs with funny little hats.

Yeah, Mom, we got hosed.

Bart!

We got exactly

what we wanted out of this!

We gave an old man a second chance.

I promised my boy one simple thing:

lots of riches

and that man broke my promise.

Well I've had it!

Bart, take a letter!

Dear Mr. Burns

I'm so glad you enjoyed my son's blood

and your card was just great.

In case you can't tell, I'm being sarcastic.

You stink!

Could you read that last part back to me?

"You stink!"

Good.

You are a senile, buck-toothed old mummy

with bony girl arms and you smell like...

An elephant's butt?

( laughs)

An elephant's butt.

But he's your boss. Do you have to mail it right this minute?

Yup.

You're still angry, Homer. Why don't you sleep on it?

Forget it, Marge.

Please, Homey?

For me?

Oh, all right.

You always do that hand thing

and it usually works.

Cheap son of a...

( snoring)

Ooh, pancakes.

Ooh.

Homer, breakfast is ready.

Hmm?

( gags)

Marge, you saved me

from making a big mistake.

I finally understand

the meaning of...

( unintelligible)

Meaning of what?

Better half, Marge. Better half.

Oh, thank you.

Where's the letter?

( whistling)

Where is it?!

Oh...

Homer, I don't think it's in the cornstarch canister.

Well, it's somewhere.

It didn't just get up and walk away.

Bart, have you seen the letter?

Yep.

All right, think very carefully.

Where did you see it last?

The last place I saw it...

Uh-huh?

Was in my hand...

Yeah?

As I was shoving it

into the mailbox.

Homer: Oh!

Why did you do that?

Dad, there were things in the letter that had to be said

and I know you. You're an emotional guy.

Just because you were mad last night

is no guarantee you'd be mad in the morning.

I'll show you mad in the morning!

Homer, you encouraged him.

You should be strangling yourself.

She's right.

Okay, think, Homer.

Don't panic.

They don't pick up the mail till noon.

There's still time!

Ow, ow.

Ow, ow.

Ow, ow.

Give it up, Homer.

It's locked up tight.

Locked, eh?

Well, I just might have a little surprise

up my sleeve for old Mr. Lock.

Step aside, boy.

Hey!

I'm with you, Homer.

Fight the power!

Why the hose, Homer?

What does it look like? I'll get our letter so wet, the ink will run

and no one will be able to read it.

Yeah, but don't other people have mail in there?

So a few people won't get a few letters.

Boo-hoo.

You know the kind of letters people write:

"Dear somebody you never heard of--

"How is so and so?

"Blah, blah, blah.

Yours truly, some bozo."

Big loss.

Now Bart, you keep an eye out for the mailman.

Just give me some kinda signal.

Dad, the mailman's here.

That's a good one.

No, I mean the mailman's here!

( screams)

Dear God! Are you planning

to water the mail?

I guess it wouldn't do any good to run

'cause you're a mail lady and you know my name and address and everything, huh?

That's right.

Well, I'm still going to run!

I want the whole world to hear the story

of my harrowing struggle with hypohemia.

Mr. Roman is one of the finest ghostwriters in the business.

He's written Like Hell I Can't, Up From the Muck

The Unsinkable Sadruodin Mahbaradad.

Excellent.

All right, first question:

have you slept with anyone famous?

Well, Countess Von Zeppelin and I...

What in blaze..!

Now you listen to me, you bargain-basement Baudelaire

I'm not some dizzy starlet

who can't string two words together.

I can write this myself!

You're fired!

( imitating Mr. Burns:) Hello.

My name is Mr. Burns.

I believe you have a letter for me.