I think the boy's hurt. Just give him a nickel and let's get going! I think we should call an ambulance, sir. Hey, cool. I'm dead! Please hold on to the handrail. Do not spit over the side. Aunt Hortense. Great-grandpa Simpson. Snowball! Do not spit over the side. We told you to hold on to the handrail. We asked you not to spit over the side. Howdy, stranger! I'm Bart Simpson. Who the hell are you? Please allow me to introduce myself. I'm the devil! You've earned eternal damnation for your evil deeds. -Spitting just clinched it. -Hey, I'm innocent, man! Innocent! Everybody's innocent. Okay, let's just pull up your file here. It's a mistake. You're due to arrive when the Yankees win the pennant. Nearly a century from now. Boy, is my face red! Bart! Is there anything I can do to avoid coming back here? Sure, but you wouldn't like it. -Okay. See you later. -Bye! Remember, lie, cheat, steal and listen to heavy metal music! Yes, sir! Dr. Warner, wanted in radiology. -He's awake! -Oh, Bart! We thought you'd gone away from us. I did go away, Mom! I was miles away, writhing in agony in the pits of hell! And you were there! And you. And you. And you. You I've never seen before. Yeah, I saw you chasing Bart's ambulance. Lionel Hutz is the name. Attorney at law. My card. -It turns into a sponge in water. -Classy. Would you like to bring legal action against the fiend who did this? The fiend who did this to my boy is my boss. Besides, the doctor says it's just a bump on the head and a broken toe. Doctors are idiots! He might have permanent injuries. You may have to wait on him for the rest of his life! That's the downside. Here's the good part. You can cash in on this tragedy! -Excuse me, are you a shyster? -How does a nice girl know that word? Mr. Hutz, this is hardly the time to discuss this. You're right. When you're up to it, come to my office and we'll talk. Lionel Hutz, attorney at law. Is that a broken neck? Great! -Hello, Dr. Hibbert. -Hello, Lisa. -We've got a nasty bump on our head. -Quit it! -And a tiny broken toe. -Quit it! Is he well enough for me to start mothering him? Better let him rest a while. -I heard Mr. Burns crushed your boy. -Yeah. If I wasn't so spineless, I'd march into Mr. Burns' office now and-- Simpson! Burns wants you to march into his office now! Simpson, at last we meet. Nice to meet you too, sir. My attorneys advised me to pay for running over your child. -So I'm cutting you a check. -Really? Great. $100. Of course, you'll have to sign a waiver relinquishing your right to sue. but his medical bills alone-- So extortion is the name of your game? Then you get nothing! I have the finest lawyers in Springfield. Tangle with me, and I'll crush you like a paper cup. Throw him out, Smithers! You don't have to do that. I can throw myself out. Lionel Hutz. In here, Mr. Simpson. -Any calls, Della? -Calls? Oh, "calls" ! The Supreme Court called. They need your help on a freedom thing. Tell them to sit tight. I'll get back to them. This way, Mr. Simpson. You sure have got some education. Yes, Harvard, Yale, MIT, Oxford, the Sorbonne, the Louvre. Oh, well. Mr. Simpson, the state bar forbids me from promising you a big cash settlement. But just between you and me, I promise you a big cash settlement. My fee is 50 percent. -50 percent? -You'll be getting more than a lawyer! You'll also get this faux pearl necklace a $99 value, as our gift. I don't know. You and I might have different ideas about how big a big cash settlement is. A million dollars? I stand corrected! A million bucks is A-Okay! Now we'll get a real doctor's opinion. Bad news! Your son is a very sick boy. Just look at the X-rays! You see that dark spot there? Whiplash. Oh, no! And this smudge that looks like my fingerprint? No. That's trauma! -Am I going to die? -Yes, son! Homer! No, of course you won't. Everything's fine. -Will I ever play baseball again? -No! -But I played this morning. -That's right, he did. Dr. Hibbert has been our physician for years. He thought Bart was fine. Oh, Dr. Hibbert, from Johns Hopkins Medical School. Mrs. Simpson, you're not a doctor. He's not, I'm not. The only person here who comes close is him. Stop, you're embarrassing me! Are you sure there isn't soft tissue trauma in the face? Oh, yeah. Tons of it. Just say when. A million dollars? Smithers! I want this Homer Simpson fired! Do you think that's wise? Think of the headlines. What about them? They might be critical of you firing him so soon after the accident. All right then. I don't want to seem like an ogre. I'll bide my time. Let him twist in the wind. Slowly, slowly. When the papers have found their new flavor of the month he'll find out this cat has claws! Good thinking. Now, let's pretend you're on the witness stand. -How are you, Bart? -Fine. Bart says he's fine. You are not fine! You are in constant pain! I am in constant pain. -May I make an observation? -What is it? This is a charade to make him look more injured than he is. Maybe Lisa has a point. I don't mind it here, but in court, doesn't he have to tell the truth? But what is truth, if you follow me? Bart, can you roll your eyes back in your head like this? You mean like I'm dead? Sure. The kid's a pro. Springfield Municipal Court is now in session. Judge Moulton presiding. My client's instructed me to remind you how rich he is and that he's not like other men. I should be able to run over as many kids as I want! I warn you, if you continue to disrupt the court I'll cite you for contempt. -You wouldn't dare! -Well, no, I guess I wouldn't. Calling Bartholomew J. Simpson to the stand. Oh, please! Hello, Bart. You know the difference between telling the truth and telling a lie, don't you? Maybe. Well, you wouldn't lie to the United States, would you, Bart? -No. -Good. -Proceed, Mr. Hutz. -Thank you. Tell the jury, in your own words what happened on the day of the accident. Yes, sir. It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon. I played in my childlike way, not realizing I was about to be struck by the luxury car of death! Defenseless child at 3:00! Luckily, I was not killed. Although sometimes I wish I had been. He's lying! Now, that's believable testimony. Mr. Burns, relate in your own words what really happened on the day of the accident. Certainly. It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining. I was driving to the orphanage to pass out toys. Suddenly, that incorrigible Simpson boy darted in front of me. My goodness! Look what's happened! -It's not important. Let's drive on. -You cold-blooded monster! Regardless of what you think, we must summon help and comfort him until an ambulance arrives. No! Take me, I'm old! And that's what happened. Why are you looking at me like that? You believed his story! It's looking good, Mr. Simpson. It's looking very good. They hate me? What trial were you watching? -Maybe a settlement-- -Settlement! Fine! Hang your heads in shame you overpriced, under-brained notary publics! Just get that ape to my house and we'll buy him off with a banana! And that ugly customer was the last Indonesian rhino on earth. I didn't know you liked animals. I don't like everything about them. Just their heads. Care for some wine, old buddy? -Don't mind if I do. -Go, go! Bottoms up. There's plenty more where that came from. Are you trying to get me drunk? Yes. Now, old chum I'm sure you agree this trial is an affront to our collective dignity. What say we settle this, man to man? You mean duke it out? No, I mean I'm prepared to offer you a generous cash settlement. A princely sum-- Well, a handsome sum that can end this imbroglio once and for all. Five hundred thousand dollars. Goodness! Don't answer me now. Relax, talk it over. Soak in the opulence of your surroundings and dream of what can be. Smithers, let's go powder my nose. -What do you think? -I don't know. Maybe we should take it and put this ugliness behind us. The fish is in the pan. -What do you think? -I'll tell you. I think he thinks I'm an idiot! He's offering us this because he knows he'll lose and have to pay us a million. I feel faint. $500,000! I spit on his $500,000! What's happened to you? All this greediness and lying and shifty lawyers and phony doctors! Phony doctors? Hello. Know what I'd settle for? The medical bills and an apology. You won't even get that. Offer's expired. We'll let the jury decide. Good day. Smithers, release the hounds. Your Honor, I'd like to call to the stand Mrs. Homer J. Simpson! Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, so help you God? Yes, I do. -She was taking that very seriously. -Oh, the truth! Mrs. Simpson, does the name Julius Hibbert mean anything to you? Yes, he's been our family physician and friend ever since I became a mother. He's seen us through everything with competence and loving care. But wait a minute! I'm confused. This court heard expert testimony from one Dr. Nick Riviera. What's your opinion of him? My mother said, "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything. " -Will that hold up? -No, I've tried. What is your opinion of Dr. Riviera? And let me remind you, you're under oath! To be honest he seemed more concerned about wrapping Bart in bandages than making him feel better. And he mispronounced words like "abdomen. " And his office was dirty! Now that I think about it, I'm not sure he's a doctor. And could you describe for us in your own words Bart's "intense mental anguish and suffering"? Well, I don't know how intense it was but he did miss three days of school. Although he doesn't like school so that may not count as anguish. It was hard on me, having him around the house. Could you put a dollar amount on all these hardships? We pay Bart $5 a week to take out the trash. I suppose if he'd been able to do it, we might've given him the $5. $5? But your lawyer, assuming he is one, is asking for a million! Well, we can't blame them for trying, can we? Thank you, Mrs. Simpson. I'm going to write a figure down. It's not quite as large as the last one but I think you'll find it fair. We should take it. A million dollars. My wife cost me a million dollars. Would you like more macaroni and cheese? A million dollars' worth, you snake-woman! -No. -String beans? No, you two-timing, backstabbing-- Better answer. -No. -Celery with cream cheese? Just mouth polite nothings. It would've been cool to get that million. Bart, please. We could've bought tons of great stuff. Maids, a pool, fancy sweaters. Stop me if I'm wrong. -Marge, may I go to Moe's for a drink? -Sure. I may never come back. Good night. My woman's intuition is telling me something. I wonder-- Oh, my God. Well, I guess this is the class I'll die in. You're better off. Rich people aren't happy. They think they're happy but trust me, they ain't. Moe, I wish he'd shut up. -A chick! -And it's not even ladies' night. Hey, guys. Knock it off! It's just my wife. -Well, hello. -My name's Marge. Homer, I'd like you to forgive me for doing the right thing. We've squabbled over money before. Never this much. It's different than when I washed your pants with the 20 in the pocket-- You think this is about money? It's not. It's worse. I'm afraid that when I look at you I won't see the wife by my side or the mother of my children. I'll see the dame who blew my one big chance. -What are you saying? -I'm saying-- She's your wife of 10 years, you've had 3 children. It's time to be honest. I'm not sure I love you anymore. Don't worry, I won't let on. I'll still do the bed stuff. -Maybe it won't be so bad. -Oh, my Lord! I don't want to wait to find out if you love me anymore. I think that you should look me in the eyes and find out. Homer, look at me! Do it if it'll shut her up. Start with the feet. Still angry. Good, Homer! This is tough, need refreshment. Trustworthy beer. My love for you will never die. All right, look the wife straight in the eyes and tell her-- Who am I kidding? I love you more than ever! -I love you too! -Sorry to scare you like that, babe. Okay, everybody! For the next 15 minutes, one-third off on every pitcher. One per customer, domestic beer only. Hey, no sharing!