It's the Grand Pumpkin, Milhouse

Is someone calling me a hack again? Are comedians still plagiarizing me and then calling me a hack? This world must be some kind of hell for artists. I practice my music since I want to be a musician and I only share my comedy now to let people know the truth. Given how it was treated, it's not very funny anymore. I have shared most of my comedy inadvertently over the last eight years, but this script was spurred by seeing how it was plagiarized by the Simpsons. People should know that I am its true author. I wrote it in 2007 when I was still a Simpsons fan. So here it is again. That prayer is a classic. (Simpsons' living room) Milhouse: (Clutching blanket) I like your witch costume, Lisa. Lisa: I'm not a witch, I'm a wicken. Why is it that when a woman is confident and powerful, they call her a witch? Flugel Horn: Toot Toot Lisa: What did you say, mom? Marge: Nothing. I'm practicing my trombone. So what are you wearing to the Halloween party, Milhouse? Milhouse: I'm not going to the party, I'm going to the pumpkin patch to wait for the Grand Pumpkin. Lisa: What's the Grand Pumpkin? Milhouse: Every Halloween the Grand Pumpkin visits all the pumpkin patches in the world and brings candy to kids who truly believe. Bart: (dressed as Charlie Brown) Milhouse, for the last time, I made that up to mess with you. Milhouse: I appreciate you testing my faith, Bart, but it's not necessary. I believe in the grand pumpkin Almighty gourd Who was crustified over a punctured pie plate And ascended into oven He will come again to judge the filling and the bread (The pumpkin patch. A solitary Milhouse is approached by his young peers.) Milhouse: You've all come to wait for the Grand Pumpkin with me! Bully1: (Following through with violence) I've got a carol for you: You are such a stupid moron It makes people want to punch you... (Derisive laughter supports Milhouse's wedgie.) Ralph: (dressed as Pigpen) Your God is wrong. Bully2: Let's get to the party before the Granny Smiths are all bobbed out. Bart: (to Lisa) You coming? Lisa: I think I'll stay with Milhouse. His glasses fog up when he cries. (Lisa falls asleep in Milhouse's blanket.) Milhouse: Lisa! Lisa! Wake up! the grand pumpkin is here! Lisa: The grand pumpkin is here? Milhouse: No, I'm rehearsing what I'm going to say when he shows up. Lisa: (sending Milhouse tumbling backwards) YOU OWE ME RESTITUTION! (Exit Lisa.) Milhouse: (alone and crying) Grand Pumpkin, I know you're real. Why won't you show yourself? (His tears land on a pumpkin and bring it to life, causing it to swell to enormous size.) Grand Pumpkin: Happy Halloween! Milhouse: Grand Pumpkin! You are real! Grand Pumpkin: That's right, Milhouse, your childlike belief has brought me to life. Milhouse: I knew you'd come! I even baked you a loaf of homemade pumpkin bread. Grand Pumpkin: How delightful, bread made especially for pumpkins. (He pops it into his mouth with a leafy hand.) Milhouse: Actually, it's made from pumpkins. Grand Pumpkin: Wha-? (He turns and vomits in disgust.) REVENGE! (Milhouse flees in the direction of Springfield Elementary School, passing the Simpsons residence on the way. Homer sits outdoors on his front steps, carving jack-o-lanterns, which catches the Grand Pumpkin's attention.) Homer: (holding knife and talking to a pumpkin as the Grand Pumpkin peeks around the corner behind him) I'm gonna give you cross eyes like you might see on an idiot, a stupid triangle nose, and a big mouth full of the ugliest shaped teeth there are: square! And I'm gonna make your friends watch. Grand Pumpkin: NO! (The Grand Pumpkin moves in and swallows the offender.) Good evening, ladies. (Springfield Elementary School. The children dance to piano jazz. Enter Milhouse with trailing blanket.) Milhouse: (After cutting music) Everybody listen! The grand pumpkin is real! Krabopple: Hey! No hard sole shoes! Grand Pumpkin: (Smashing through wall) Oh God! Everywhere I look I see pumpkin atrocities! Willie: (holding tray) Care for a pumpkin seed? Grand Pumpkin: You roast the unborn? (Willie is swallowed. G.P. moves aggressively towards a table of jack-o-lanterns. Caught in his path, Bully1 grabs a pumpkin and holds it hostage with a knife.) Bully1: Touch me and I'll cut your friend. Grand Pumpkin: What do I care? That's a yellow pumpkin. Bully1: You're a racist! Grand Pumpkin: All pumpkins are racists. The difference is I admit it. (He swallows the bully.) Bully1: (Muffled) I'd rather die than hate! Milhouse: This is all my fault! The grand pumpkin said my childlike belief is what made him come to life. Lisa: Belief, eh? Hmmm. Say, Milhouse, have you by any chance ever heard of Tom Turkey? Milhouse: No, who is he and what's his origin story? Lisa: Uh, well Tom is a magical turkey who gave the Pilgrims the technology to put buckles on their hats. Now he appears every Thanksgiving to children who believe. Milhouse: Sounds plausible. (Praying) Tom Turkey, help me. I believe in you. (A giant turkey in seventeenth century attire blasts through the wall with a shot from his blunderbuss.) Turkey: HALT, yon Pumpkin most succulent and plump, I be Tom Turkey! Grand Pumpkin: A giant talking turkey? Preposterous! Turkey: Prepare for the Almighty's judgement, thou stinking fruit of rotted vine! (He splits the pumpkin at point blank range, freeing the three swallowed captives.) Homer: I can't live on the outside! (He jumps back in and clings to the lining.) Lisa: Milhouse, your childlike innocence saved us all! Mister Turkey, how can we repay you? Milhouse: How about a Thanksgiving feast? You can carve the turkey. Tom Turkey: (repulsed) You eat turkeys? Bart: Yeah, it's delicious! Especially when we take stuffing and shove it up the turkey's - (Lisa puts her hand over his mouth.) Tom Turkey: REVENGE! (Silhouettes through the school window show Tom Turkey chasing and eating the children. Marge stands in foreground with flugelhorn.) Marge: Looks like those kids found the true spirit of Halloween - or Thanksgiving. And for those of you who feel like we've trampled on a beloved children's classic, I encourage you to write to the following address. (She toots the horn.)
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© 2007, 2017. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.