Declan Desmond: Oh, hello! I'm documentary filmmaker Declan Desmond. Thirty-two years ago I interviewed a group of Springfield school-children.

Declan Desmond: These children ran the gamut of society: rich and poor, black and white, "he'll grow into his looks" and "forever hideous."

11-Year-Old Moe: My Dad was a circus freak but my Mom don't remember which one. (SWEETLY) I like to think it was a little bit of all of them.

Declan Desmond: Every eight years I revisited those children, creating a cinematic chronicle of their lives.

Declan Desmond: Join me, won't you, to see dreams dissolve like a muffin in the rain, in:

Declan Desmond: Growing Up Springfield!

Declan Desmond: What does the future hold for these children? (POINTING) Will he grow up to work in a robot factory? Will she be the receptionist for a robot businessman? And will he be a crusader for robo-sexual rights? (CONFIDENT) I say "yes," "no," and "yes."

Declan Desmond: Whee!

Declan Desmond: So, Lenny, what have we here?

8-Year-Old Lenny: My daddy said I can have any birthday party I want. My cake will be a picture of a dinosaur and all the guests will say, "Why, Lenny, that's a fine cake!" Then, "yes," I'll say.

Declan Desmond: I decided not to waste anymore film on him after that.

8-Year-Old Carl: (TOSSES PENNY IN WELL) I wish for world peace.

8-Year-Old Barney: (TOSSES PENNY IN WELL) I wish for world war.

8-Year-Old Carl: (CONSIDERING) Oh yeah, that would be cooler.

8-Year-Old Homer: I wish when I grow up, I'll be richer than everybody!

Homer Simpson: I will! I will be rich! I'll own a football team and a basketball team and I'll make them play baseball!

Declan Desmond: But what became of these wide-eyed (OVER-PRONOUNCING) naïfs? Let's begin by following the life of little Clancy Wiggum.

8-Year-Old Wiggum: Bang, bang, bang!

8-Year-Old Wiggum: Freeze, robber, freeze! (SHOOTING) Bang, bang, bang!

8-Year-Old Homer: (SCREAMS) It hurts! It hurts so bad! Please, just put one in my brain!

8-Year-Old Wiggum: (SIGHS) Okay. (UNENTHUSIASTICALLY SHOOTING) Uh, bang.

8-Year-Old Homer: (LOUD WHISPER) Thank you. (DIES)

16-Year-Old Wiggum: (GRIM) As hall monitor, I am the law. (TO VARIOUS KIDS) No running in the hall. No running in the hall. No running in the hall.

16-Year-Old Wiggum: Hey, detention bird, thanks for not running in the hall.

16-Year-Old Wiggum: (FRIENDLY) Go Wildcats!

Declan Desmond: At twenty-four, Clancy Wiggum was accepted into the police academy.

Commandant: (À LA R. LEE ERMEY) Wiggum! What did I tell you about pointsy-towardsies?!

24-Year-Old Wiggum: You seem a little cranky, commandant. A back rub'll set you right.

24-Year-Old Wiggum: There we go.

Commandant: (HAPPY NOISE) O-kay. Don't be afraid to dig in there good!

24-Year-Old Wiggum: Hey, what'sa matter, buddy? Need a backrub?

Declan Desmond: At thirty-two, Officer Wiggum had found the fast track to becoming chief.

Mayor Joe Quimby: Oh yeah, oh that's the stuff. Thanks for giving me an eight-thirty appointment. You are a life saver.

32-Year-Old Wiggum: Y'know uh... if I was Chief, I could give you eight-thirty every day.

Mayor Joe Quimby: I don't have the authority to... (NOISE OF PLEASURE) I'll make it happen.

Chief Wiggum: (PROUDLY) And here we are in now-times. As you can see, I have gotten everything I've ever wanted.

Lou: Except pants that fit.

Chief Wiggum: (EXASPERATED) I told you that if I let you into this movie, you couldn't make fun of me.

Lou: I'm not makin' fun of you. I'm makin' fun of your pants.

Chief Wiggum: How'd you like it if I made fun of your pants?

Lou: Go ahead.

Chief Wiggum: They're a little, uh... they're-they're, they-aw, they're perfect.

8-Year-Old Homer: When I grow up, I'll have a giant mansion, my own pinball machine with infinity quarters, eight pairs of peanut butter and jelly pajamas. How many wishes do I have left?

Declan Desmond: None. You never had any. I'm not a genie.

Declan Desmond: Homer, your dreams will take a lot of money.

Declan Desmond: Don't look at me, look at the camera.

8-Year-Old Homer: Got it. (LOOKS AT DESMOND)

Declan Desmond: I said, look at the camera.

8-Year-Old Homer: No problem.

Declan Desmond: Now you're looking at a mud puddle. That's your hand. That's the production accountant. That's your other hand. (EXASPERATED) Do you even know what a camera is?

8-Year-Old Homer: (FUMFURRING) Why, of cour-- (ADMITTING) No.

Declan Desmond: (SIGHS) I'm gonna put this squeaky toy on top of the camera.

8-Year-Old Homer: (DELIGHTED GIGGLE) Squeaky! Squeaky!

8-Year-Old Homer: Squeaky, squeaky!

8-Year-Old Homer: Squeaky, squeaky, squeaky!

Declan Desmond: Unsurprisingly, by age twenty-four, Homer's dreams of wealth had not come to fruition.

24-Year-Old Homer: Manure for sale! Get your manure! Loamiest in town!

24-Year-Old Homer: Hey, the manure dealership is just one of the things I got goin'.

24-Year-Old Homer: I also have a sweet gig as an infomercial question-asker.

24-Year-Old Homer: (STILTED) Um, I know Super Clean cleans, but does it scrub?

24-Year-Old Homer: My garage band is getting so tight.

24-Year-Old Homer: (SINGS) YEAH, YEAH, YEAH!

24-Year-Old Homer: The album cover's gonna be a naked girl with stars for boobs.

24-Year-Old Homer: And I do open-casket caricatures.

24-Year-Old Homer: (TO GRIEVERS) Did he have any hobbies?

Grieving Widow: Get out of here!

Declan Desmond: But Homer had found a peanut of hope in his Cracker Jack box of despair...

Marge Simpson: Homer is so amazing! He can chug a beer and pitch woo at the same time.

Homer Simpson: (CHUGGING BEER, DISTORTED) The light from your eyes could guide a ship at sea.

Homer Simpson: (LOOKING FOR APPROVAL) Eh?

Declan Desmond: Are you two considering children?

24-Year-Old Homer: (SCOFFING) Kids? No way! You'll never see a couple of rug-rats tying me down!

32-Year-Old Homer: You'd better not put this shot after the one where I said I won't have kids. That would be a devastating edit!

Declan Desmond: Homer, your life is nothing to be ashamed of -- you've got a loving family and a steady job at a nuclear power plant. You're not English Breakfast, but you're not Lapsang Souchong either. (FEY LAUGH)

32-Year-Old Homer: Oh yeah? Check with me in eight years, Dr. Who. I'll be kickin' your ass with a solid gold boot!

Homer Simpson: (STAGY) Hm... what's changed for me since the last time I saw you? Only... everything!

Declan Desmond: (SHOCKED) I can't believe it. Homer Simpson... a bloody millionaire!

Homer Simpson: Why do you sound so shocked? This is our fifth take.

Bart Simpson: Wheee! / (DELIGHTED CHUCKLES)

Homer Simpson: Now that I'm super-wealthy, I can buy them whatever their hearts desire. (CHUCKLES) That's why rich kids turn out so well.

Bart Simpson: Mine has a cup holder! (STUFFS CUP IN DOLPHIN'S BLOWHOLE)

Lisa Simpson: Bart, that's a blowhole!

Bart Simpson: You're a blowhole!

Bart Simpson: No, boy! Up, up, up!

Bart Simpson: INT. LAKESIDE MANSION - KITCHEN - PRESENT - LATER

Declan Desmond: Well Marge, you must be proud of your "Homie."

Marge Simpson: Oh yes. I'm so proud, I feel my chest might burst. Can you edit that? I don't wanna say "chest" in a movie.

Declan Desmond: (STERN) You said it and it stays!

Declan Desmond: (FRIENDLY AGAIN) But I must know: how did Homer come so far in eight short years?

32-Year-Old Homer: This pays a lot better than you think.

Band Leader: Nosotros lo pagamos en cales.

32-Year-Old Homer: Si, los cales.

32-Year-Old Homer: INT. LAKESIDE MANSION - KITCHEN - PRESENT

Homer Simpson: (EXPLAINING) You see Declan, I made my millions with a simple invention -- (GRANDIOSE) "The Condiment Pen"!

Homer Simpson: (DEMONSTRATING) Just click the buttons at the top and you can choose from ketchup, mustard, mayo, and relish.

Homer Simpson: (LOUD WHISPER) I got the idea from the regular pen.

Declan Desmond: Can I use it on fish and chips?

Homer Simpson: I don't know. You can put horseradish on your dead mother for all I care. The point is, I'm rich, rich, rich! (BOOMING VOICE) Just look -- my dog has his own Jacuzzi!

Homer Simpson: (DELIGHTED GIGGLE, OBLIVIOUS) He loves it!

Declan Desmond: You win, Homer. I guess there's no way I can embarrass you any further.

8-Year-Old Frink: When I um, grow up, I'm going to be a rocket scientist!

8-Year-Old Frink: To Mars!

8-Year-Old Frink: Zoom. Zoom. (FRUSTRATED FRINK NOISE)

8-Year-Old Frink: Bullies approaching -- activate cloaking device.

Declan Desmond: Professor Frink, you've become one of Springfield's most renowned scientific minds. You discovered and cured Frink's Disease, created the element Frinkonium, and invented the eight-month-after pill.

Professor Jonathan Frink: (CUTTING HIM OFF) Yes, yes. All right. All of that means nothing, sir! I have spent my whole life in the lab and never talked to a girl. That's why I built this time machine!

Professor Jonathan Frink: I give you the chrono-trike! Now I'll go back in time to tell myself to choose a different career. One where I'll meet a female woman of the girl-u-lar variety.

Professor Jonathan Frink: Have to get the speed going here.

Professor Jonathan Frink: (FAR AWAY) Listen to me, little Frink! I am here to warn you--

Professor Jonathan Frink: (GETTING HIT BY CAR NOISE) That was... Hey, I'm still going but--

Young Carl: Hey. Cool.

8-Year-Old Eleanor: I want to be a lawyer and a doctor, because a woman can do anything.

Declan Desmond: At twenty-four, Eleanor had graduated from Harvard Medical and Yale Law.

24-Year-Old Eleanor: Your Honor, I'd like to request a continuance so I can go deliver a baby.

Judge Snyder: I love babies! I'll allow it.

32-Year-Old Eleanor: (EDGY) I'm a little burnt out. So sometimes, don't shoot me, I have a glass of wine with Buster, here.

32-Year-Old Eleanor: (NEUROTIC CHUCKLE) He's a real comfort. I might even get a second cat.

Declan Desmond: (STRUGGLING NOISES, AVOIDING CATS) Nice kitty.

8-Year-Old Marge: I like taking pictures.

11-Year-Old Moe: Take my picture! Take my picture!

11-Year-Old Moe: Aw crap, my first kiss.

8-Year-Old Comic Book Guy: You could do a lot worse, my friend.

Declan Desmond: At age sixteen, Marge was the star photographer for her school newspaper.

Declan Desmond: But her interests soon expanded beyond shutterbuggery...

24-Year-Old Marge: The biggest change for me over the last eight years? That's gotta be Homer!

24-Year-Old Homer: Marge, baby! I got a picture of you tattooed on my chest! (CHUCKLES)

24-Year-Old Homer: (EXPLAINING) They had a sale on skulls.

Declan Desmond: At twenty-four, Marge's photo-journalistic dreams were, shall we say, under-developed?

Young Sea Captain: I need one wallet-sized photo for my captain's license.

24-Year-Old Marge: (SAD SIGH) Coming right up. Mind if I turn on a little music?

Young Sea Captain: It's so danceable! (VOICE CHANGING TO DISCO STU) Nautical Stu loves disco music!

Declan Desmond: And the world welcomed Disco Stu.

Young Sea Captain: Yeah!

24-Year-Old Marge: (SIGHS) I need a full-time job to support Homer, so he has time to work on his rock music, his erotic etchings, his Play-Doh Theater...

Declan Desmond: (RE: MANSION) And yet look how things turned out! This overnight affluence must have come as a tremendous shock.

Marge Simpson: Oh, yes sir... as shocks go, this one's a real zaparoo.

Declan Desmond: Listen, something's been piquing my curiosity. Why is your medicine cabinet full of old man ointments?

Marge Simpson: (SEARCHING) Oh... well, yeah, the ointments, um...

C. Montgomery Burns: (GASP) What are you people doing in my summer home?

Homer Simpson: (COVERING) Uh, this is Eduardo, my pool boy. He thinks he's an angry rich man.

C. Montgomery Burns: I am an angry rich man!

Homer Simpson: (LOUD WHISPER TO DECLAN) That's the pool chemicals talking.

Declan Desmond: Homer J. Simpson! Your fabulous millionaire lifestyle is all a lie!

Lisa Simpson: (KATHARINE HEPBURN ACCENT) Oh Fah-ther, my pony Buttercup can jump ever so high-- (NOTICING MR. BURNS, NORMAL VOICE) Hoo-boy, it's Mr. Burns.

Homer Simpson: (BEGGING) Please, Mr. Burns, pretend you work for me. You can have the boy, just don't beat him. (LOUD WHISPER) You can beat him, just don't leave marks.

C. Montgomery Burns: Shut up, you waste of skin and fat! You've desecrated my every possession!

Waylon Smithers: (GASPS FOR AIR, THEN:) Oh, thank you, sir! For three days I've had nothing to read but clock-setting instructions: "Using the suspension spring above the pendulum leader, hang the pendulum on the pendulum guide..." (CRAZED NOISES)

Marge Simpson: Mr. Burns, we're so sorry. The plan was just to use your back yard, and the next thing we know, Mr. Smithers is tied up in a grandfather clock.

Waylon Smithers: Please get me out of here! It's eleven fifty-nine, fifty-nine!

C. Montgomery Burns: I've heard enough! Release the hounds!

Waylon Smithers: Uh, sir, your hounds are still at the winter house.

C. Montgomery Burns: Well, bring them over in the Durango.

Waylon Smithers: Shadow and Winston have been fighting a lot.

C. Montgomery Burns: (EXASPERATED) Put Winston in the front.

Waylon Smithers: Winston doesn't like the front.

C. Montgomery Burns: (SNAPPING) Just do it! Do it! Do it now!

C. Montgomery Burns: (CHATTY) ...and that's how I got the vending machine contract for the Kremlin.

Waylon Smithers: Sorry, sir... traffic was a nightmare. Then I got caught in some kind of garlic festival...

C. Montgomery Burns: (ALL BUSINESS) Release the hounds!

Homer Simpson: Stop it, Winston!

Declan Desmond: In the wake of this deception, I had two questions for Homer: "Why lie?" and "Lies... why?!" But he seemed less than eager to meet.

Declan Desmond: Homer, I brought a squeaky!

Declan Desmond: I realized that if this bunny was going to be boiled, I would have to turn up the heat.

Lenny Leonard: There you are! I'm ready for my segment.

Declan Desmond: (FAKING ENTHUSIASM) Lenny... always exciting to hear from you. Did you ever try that new shampoo?

Lenny Leonard: Nope, never did.

Lenny Leonard: Wanna watch me pay my cable bill? I got checks with butterflies on 'em.

Lenny Leonard: I am interesting.

Declan Desmond: No you're not.

Marge Simpson: What do you want?

Declan Desmond: Marge, can you just let me in for a minute?

Marge Simpson: We let you in thirty-two years ago and it's brought us nothing but pain.

Declan Desmond: Well, if you want, I can cut you out of the film.

Marge Simpson: No, no, no, no, no! Let's not get crazy.

Declan Desmond: Then I just want to know why your husband did what he did.

Homer Simpson: I'll tell you why.

Homer Simpson: It's been another eight years, and what do I have? Same job, same house, same dirty joke book...

Homer Simpson: (DEPRESSED) I just thought for once I could be the cool guy in your movie. But all I am is the guy who makes everyone else look good.

Declan Desmond: (TO CAMERA) Strong words from a dumpy man. And cut.

Marge Simpson: Wait just a cotton-swabbing minute! A good man went to a lot of trouble just to impress you! And I went along with it, because I love him to pieces! And you made him look like a fool. Well, I don't want you anywhere near my house!

Marge Simpson: Now you can cut!

Moe Szyslak: What's the matter, Declan? Did a cop give ya a ticket for talkin' like a fruit?

Declan Desmond: It's the oddest thing: I actually feel affection for these knuckle-dragging sub-monkeys. I feel sorry for Homer Simpson.

Moe Szyslak: (INCREDULOUS) Whaddaya been sippin' cuckoo juice? Homer's got it made. He's married to one hell of a woman. All I've got is this porn channel I'm too cheap to de-scramble.

Declan Desmond: (SCRUTINIZING) That's an ad for shoe inserts.

Moe Szyslak: What the?! I've been writin' creepy letters to that?!

Declan Desmond: But what you said about Homer it's... it's given me a brilliant idea!

Moe Szyslak: An action movie where I play the Pope who kills the President?

Declan Desmond: No, that's a terrible idea.

Moe Szyslak: (QUICKLY) Yeah, I know, it is stupid. I think it could work, though. I even got a title: "Pontiff No Return". I came up with it, but I don't really get it.

Declan Desmond: The next day, I invited Homer to my editing bay.

Climber #1: Oh my God, the view!

Climber #2: This makes it all worth it!

Blind Climber: (SADLY) It's not so much fun when you're blind.

Climber #2: At least you made it up the mountain.

Blind Climber: No thanks to you two.

Homer Simpson: (SUSPICIOUS) All right, you lured me to your bay. Now what sick game are you playing?

Declan Desmond: I have some footage to show you.

Homer Simpson: (FEARFUL) Oh, spirit. Are you gonna show me my future? My snow-flecked grave, mourned by no man? Well, it's not too late for me to change!

Homer Simpson: You there, boy! Buy me a Christmas goose! The biggest one in the shop!

Squeaky-Voiced Teen: And then what?

Declan Desmond: Homer, come over here and take a look at this. I've gone over a hundred thousand hours of Springfield footage -- twice -- and put together something you must see.

Lenny Leonard: If I could trade lives with anybody I'd pick Homer.

Moe Szyslak: Have you been to Homer's house?! It's got a back yard, a front yard... the place is like yard city!

Nelson Muntz: I love his laugh...

Dr. Julius Hibbert: He picked the perfect time to lock in his mortgage!

Ned Flanders: He's the kindest, sweetest most generous man ever to drive through my living room.

Homer Simpson: I'll pay for most of this!

Ralph Wiggum: He may not be perfect, but he's my Dad.

Krusty the Clown: Homer gave me a kidney. It wasn't his, I didn't need it, and it came postage due, but still a lovely gesture.

2-Year-Old Bart: I like when Daddy's out of work 'cause he can spend more time with me.

Lisa Simpson: At bedtime, he tucks me in tighter than anyone else could. And you know what? (SMILES) No monsters have gotten me yet.

Homer Simpson: Wow. I have a pretty good life after all.

Marge Simpson: Homer! Don't kill the foreign man!

Homer Simpson: Relax, Marge. (CHUCKLES) I wasn't gonna kill him.

Homer Simpson: All those years I was dreaming of other things, I was actually doing what I really wanted... hanging out with my family, drinking with my friends, making friends with my family, and hanging with my drinking!

Homer Simpson: Marge, you're my real dream come true. And I get to live you every day.

Marge Simpson: Oh, Homie! You make each eight-year interval better than the last!