Bart Sells His Soul

Bart:Get your hymns here! Fresh hymns! Hot hymns! Eternal salvation, only two dollars!

Bart:Who wants a hymn? Amazing grace, extra verses! Step right up!

Reverend Lovejoy:We'll now sing hymn number 239, 'I. Ron Butterfly.'

Reverend Lovejoy:A beautiful composition by Iron Butterfly.

Homer:Ah, 'In the Garden of Eden.' Marge and I made out to this song all the time.

Reverend Lovejoy:That's the hymn 'O Come All Ye Faithful.'

Homer:Whatever. Good times.

Reverend Lovejoy:And now, let us sing hymn number 239, 'Rock and Roll All Nite Long'.

Congregation:Rock and roll all nite long, rock and roll all nite long...

Reverend Lovejoy:Wait a minute. This isn't a hymn. This is... this is a secular rock composition!

Reverend Lovejoy:We must cease this... this cacophonous display of amplified popular musical entertainment.

Reverend Lovejoy:And lo, the wicked shall be cast into the pit of eternal fire, where they shall gnash their teeth and wail in agony for all eternity!

Reverend Lovejoy:The flames shall consume them, and they shall thirst for but a single drop of cool, refreshing... coal.

Reverend Lovejoy:And the special hell—reserved for child molesters and people who talk at the theater.

Reverend Lovejoy:Single mothers.

Milhouse:Okay, okay, I'll tell you everything! Bart made me do it!

Bart:Milhouse!

Milhouse:I'm sorry, Bart, but he was gonna take away my squeaky shoes!

Bart:Souls? That's just made-up stuff to scare kids.

Lisa:Bart, souls are a real philosophical concept.

Bart:Yeah, right. Next you'll tell me Michael Jackson is real.

Milhouse:Churches are great! They help people and teach morality.

Bart:Milhouse, they're just after your money.

Milhouse:No way! Why would they want that?

Bart:Milhouse, I bet you my soul you can't jump that gap.

Milhouse:You're on!

Bart:Wait, how are we even transporting souls if you lose?

Milhouse:Uh, the soul train?

Bart:That's a music show, man.

Milhouse:Fine, we'll use FedEx.

Bart:Your soul's gonna get lost in Memphis.

Milhouse:Then we'll use Uber!

Bart:An Uber driver's not picking up a soul, dude.

Milhouse:Okay, okay... we'll just tie it to a bunch of balloons and hope for the best.

Bart:Milhouse, dude, you can't just believe everything. You gotta think for yourself.

Milhouse:But Bart, my glasses make me look smart!

Bart:Dude, that's exactly what I'm talking about.

Lisa:What about that new restaurant, 'The Quixotic Platypus'?

Homer:Sounds expensive.

Lisa:Well, there's also 'Suffocating Sous Vide.'

Marge:That doesn't sound very appetizing.

Lisa:And finally, 'Deconstructed Despair: A Journey Through Abandonment.'

Homer:Now we're talking!

Moe:Ahhhhh! The sun! It burns!

Rod Flanders:Dad, why is that man sleeping on the floor of that store?

Ned Flanders:Well, Rod, that's not a store. That's a bar. And that man isn't sleeping, he's passed out from drinking too much alcohol.

Rod Flanders:Oh. It smells like pee and broken dreams.

Barney:No, Moe! The dankness is what makes this place special. It's not just a bar, it's a dungeon of dreams. The moisture in the air, the smell of stale beer and broken promises - that's ambiance! You take away the dankness, you take away my will to live here eight hours a day.

Lisa:Oh boy, a present! I wonder what it could be?

Homer:Go ahead, open it!

Lisa:Ewww! It's a dead fish!

Homer:You're welcome!

Bart:Soul? That's junk, man.

Lisa:The soul is not junk, Bart. It's the seat of human consciousness, the essence of what makes us who we are. To dismiss it so casually is to deny the very thing that gives our lives meaning and purpose.

Lisa:Bart, you can't just sell your soul! That's a fundamental part of who you are.

Bart:Aw, come on Lisa. It's not like I was using it anyway. Besides, the dude offered me fifty bucks.

Lisa:Fifty dollars?! Bart, your soul is worth infinitely more than that!

Bart:Yeah, well, he said if I act now, he'll throw in a free set of steak knives and mark down my conscience to twenty percent off.

Bart:Oh, come on! Don't give me that look. I know what I did was wrong, but don't be such a judge-y pants about it!

Santa's Little Helper:*growls*

Bart:Yeah, yeah, rub it in why don't ya, you four-legged furry hypocrite!

Bart:Thank you, door. Thank you so much for working.

Bart:Come on, fog up, you idiot!

Bart:What's wrong with you? Breathe!

Moe:How about 'The Snuggly Boar'?

Homer:Moe, that sounds like a place where they'd kill you.

Moe:No, no, it's family-friendly! What about 'The Strangler's Den'?

Lenny:That's even worse!

Moe:You guys are no help. How about 'Stabbin' Cabin'?

Moe:This here's a state-of-the-art deep fryer. It cooks a burger in 30 seconds flat.

Homer:30 seconds?! Can't you make it faster?

Moe:Well, I suppose I could—

Homer:Because I'm starving NOW.

Bart:I know I'm supposed to find this funny, but I don't.

Lisa:Bart's inability to laugh at cartoons suggests a deeper existential malaise. As T.S. Eliot wrote, 'In a world of hollow men, the jester's bells ring hollow.' Your apathy toward animation is merely a symptom of postmodern ennui.

Milhouse:Wow, Bart! Your soul would make an excellent platoon commander!

Bart:Uh, thanks?

Milhouse:I'm gonna need it back by dinner though.

Moe:Welcome to Moe's Tavern, where the beer flows and the food... well, it's more like it!

Moe:Welcome to Moe's Tavern, where we serve all kinds of people. Well, except old people. They're too expensive for our insurance.

Marge:Hmm, something's wrong with this hug. You're not squirming enough.

Bart:Ay caramba, busted!

Children:We are the children of the Lord

Children:We are the souls of the innocent

Children:Our hearts are pure, our minds are clean

Bart:Ay caramba.

Children:We are the children of Springfield Elementary, and we are here to sing about souls!

Children:Bart Simpson sold his soul to Needful Things! He's going to Hell! Hell! Hell!

Homer:D'oh!

Moe:Welcome to Moe's Tavern, where the drinks are cold and the company is... ow, my back!

Moe:Let me just stretch here for a second...

Moe:Anyway, as I was saying, we've got happy hour specials and— ow! — and the finest selection of...

Moe:Yeah, well, I'll level with ya, Marge. It's really just a hockey puck soaked in ketchup.

Moe:The neck is the best part of the chicken. It's loaded with flavor.

Moe:And I use a special blend of hobo spices that gives it that authentic taste.

Moe:Hello, I'm Moe Szyslak, and I'm here to tell you that drinking is bad.

Child:Is Moe there?

Moe:Yeah, this is Moe.

Child:Moe Lester?

Moe:Who's asking?

Child:Is there a Moe Lester here? Moe Lester?

Moe:Why you little! I'll rip your arms off and beat you with them! Now get outta my bar! And stay outta my bar!

Moe:Look, I'm sorry for my outburst. It's just... children's laughter, it physically pains me.

Moe:Leftover pork chops? Don't mind if I do!

Bart:Milhouse! Milhouse, where are you?

Mrs. Van Houten:He's not here, Bart. He's just visiting his grandmother.

Child:This drink is too cold!

Moe:Too cold? What are ya, a wussy? Here, I'll warm it up for ya.

Moe:There ya go, nice and toasty. Now stop yer bellyachin'!

Child:But it's still too cold!

Moe:Too cold, too cold, TOO COLD?! Why I oughta...

Moe:Hey, where's everybody going? Come back! I got a new item on the menu: the Shut Your Trap Sandwich. And if you don't like it, I'll rearrange your face!

Customer:We're leaving, Moe.

Moe:What? That's not a threat, that's a menu feature!

Crazy Old Man:They're after me! Spielberg and Coppola! They stole my movie idea!

Bart:Hey Ralph, I'll trade you my soul for that chocolate pudding cup.

Ralph:Okay!

Bart:Wait, you just... you just gave me your pudding cup? You didn't even ask questions?

Ralph:I'm a giver.

Moe:Thanks guys, you're real friends. You're here for me when I need you most.

Barney:Yeah Moe, we'd do anything for you. You're like family to us.

Barney:Of course, you'd have a lot more money if we weren't your family.

Milhouse:I traded my soul for a pog collection and a Radioactive Man comic book.

Comic Book Guy:Worst. Apology. Ever. Your pathetic excuse for contrition has made me lose my appetite for cubed ham and processed cheese food.

Comic Book Guy:Now if you'll excuse me, I must return to my Squishee before the dye separates from the syrup.

Comic Book Guy:Worst. Soul-selling. Ever.

Bart:You sold my soul?!

Comic Book Guy:In my defense, he seemed very interested in it. He kept asking questions about your potential for mischief and corruption.

Bart:Who'd you sell it to?

Comic Book Guy:Some gentleman named Mephistopheles. Though between you and me, I'm not entirely sure what he plans to do with it.

Comic Book Guy:Please refrain from striking the display case. The glass is very delicate.

Bart:What's so fragile about it?

Comic Book Guy:It contains a first edition 'Radioactive Man' issue with extremely dark content for a wholesome comic strip.

Bart:Wait, where'd you get the money to buy my soul back?

Lisa:I've been saving it in my secret piggy bank.

Bart:You have a secret piggy bank?

Lisa:Well, it wasn't very secret after you just found out about it.

Lisa:You know, Bart, this whole ordeal teaches us that suffering, while painful, can be a catalyst for personal growth and self-reflection.

Bart:Lisa, I was just stuck in a locker for ten minutes.

Lisa:Exactly. Ten minutes of existential contemplation.