THE SIMPSONS
“Rizz to Riches”
TEASER
FADE IN:
INT. SIMPSON HOUSE – LIVING ROOM – DAY
The room is a museum of suburban decay, bathed in the hypnotic, pulsating GLOW of a massive television. The only movement is the slow arc of a dust mote through a laser beam of afternoon sun.
HOMER SIMPSON (40s, a mountain of comfortable despair) is fused to the couch. His body is slack, but his EYES are wide, reflecting the chaotic flicker of the screen.
ON THE TELEVISION: A hyper-kinetic ITCHY & SCRATCHY cartoon. Scratchy, in a tiny business suit, is tied to rocket labeled “MID INVESTMENTS.” Itchy, wearing absurdly expensive-looking miniature sunglasses, holds a lit match.
ITCHY (V.O.)
(Smug, squeaky)
Catch this drip, you mid mouse!
Itchy lights the fuse. The rocket explodes in a cloud of glitter and digital coins. Scratchy’s charred skeleton slumps, a tiny “L” flag popping out of his ribcage.
Homer doesn’t laugh. He’s in a state of spiritual awe.
HOMER
(Mumbling, a low rumble)
The genius… the absolute… genius. He ated. Left no crumbs. Not a single… crumb.
ANGLE ON THE DOORWAY
MARGE (40s, the weary backbone of reality) stands silhouetted, a basket of laundry on her hip like a shield. She watches Homer, her expression a masterpiece of quiet concern.
MARGE
Homer. That’s… brain rot. Three hours. You need to… touch grass.
No response. The cartoon’s victory fanfare (a cheap, 8-bit tune) plays.
LISA (O.S.)
(A quiet earthquake)
LISA (8, thoughtful soul in crisis) enters. The energy of the room curdles. She holds her PHONE like a dead bird, its screen a black mirror.
LISA
Nelson. Ghosted. The whole thing… a situationship. I’m cooked. I am… fully cooked.
SMASH CUT TO:
BART’S POV – SLIDING DOWN THE BANISTER. The world becomes a golden blur. He lands with the precise chaos of a falling anvil, blocking the TV.
BART (10, entrepreneur of chaos) grins, a shark smelling blood in the water.
BART
What you need, sis… is a glow-up. Your whole… aesthetic? Mid. But for five bucks… I sell rizz. I sell aura points.
He whips out a crudely folded pamphlet: “BART’S BUSSIN’ LIFE HACKS.” Lisa looks from the pamphlet to his face.
LISA
Be for-real, Bart. That’s an L. A capital, blinking, neon L.
Bart’s smile widens. He leans in.
BART
Bet.
HOLD ON BART’S FACE – Triumphant. The 8-bit jingle seems to score his moment.
BART (CONT’D)
It’s canon now.
FREEZE FRAME on Bart. A graphic titled “CHAPTER 1: THE GRIFT” slams onto the screen in the classic, wobbly Simpsons font.
BART (V.O.)
Periodt.
SMASH TO BLACK.
END TEASER
ACT ONE
SCENE 2
INT. SIMPSON HOUSE – KITCHEN – MOMENTS LATER
FADE IN:
Marge is at the sink, attacking a pot with monastic focus. Lisa slumps at the table, drawing circles in a splash of spilled milk.
LISA
He didn’t just ghost me, Marge. He soft-launched his new baddie. I was a beige flag. A quirky, dismissible trait.
MARGE
(Looking out the window)
I’m sure it’s just a phase, honey. Like your father’s trampoline year.
Bart slinks in. He’s wearing a too-large fedora and holding a cardboard box labeled “INVENTORY.”
BART
Phase? This is commerce, Marge. I’ve identified a market gap: despair. Phase one: sell Lisa a new personality.
He opens the box. It contains: a single neon scrunchie, a paper that says “MAIN CHARACTER ENERGY” in crayon, and a suspicious-looking “Cringe Repellent” spray bottle.
LISA
(Without looking up)
Your product is sus. Your branding is cheugy. It’s a no.
BART
Feedback! Noted! We pivot!
He dumps the box’s contents into the trash and pulls out a fresh, blank pamphlet.
BART (CONT’D)
Phase two: we sell the idea of the new personality. The promise. We sell… potential.
Homer wanders in, drawn by the scent of moral vacancy. He peers into the trash at the discarded “Cringe Repellent.”
HOMER
Ooh, free spray. (Picks it up, sprays his armpit) Mmm… hits different.
DISSOLVE TO:
SCENE 3
EXT. SPRINGFIELD ELEMENTARY – SCHOOL YARD – NEXT DAY
The schoolyard is a cacophony of pre-teen social calculus. Lisa stands alone, a island of old-news melancholy.
ACROSS THE YARD, BART has set up a stall. A hand-painted sign reads: “GET RIZZ OR DIE TRYIN’ – Consultations 5¢.” A small line of kids (including WENDELL, who is asleep standing up) has formed.
MILHOUSE (pathetic, loyal) acts as bouncer/currency exchanger.
MILHOUSE
You got a W vibe, move to the front. You’re giving L, it’s a ten-minute wait. Them’s the rules.
Bart, wearing fake glasses, holds court with a first client: RALPH WIGGUM.
RALPH
My cat’s breath smells like cat food.
BART
(Nodding sagely)
Classic NPC dialogue. We need to re-script you. Try this: “My feline’s exhalation evokes a nostalgic pâté.” See? Boujee. Aura points through the roof.
Ralph’s eyes cross in concentration. Lisa watches, a storm brewing behind her eyes.
LISA’S POV – The scene is a grotesque ballet. She sees the desperation, the performative cool. It’s all so… cringe.
PRINCIPAL SKINNER approaches Bart’s stall, his posture a rigid exclamation point of authority.
SKINNER
Simpson. This… enterprise. Is it… sanctioned?
BART
(Smiling)
Think of it as extra-curricular confidence building, sir. We’re building brand identity. You look like a man in need of a new narrative.
Skinner, confused but oddly flattered, touches his lapel.
SMASH CUT TO:
SCENE 4
INT. SIMPSON HOUSE – LISA’S ROOM – NIGHT
Lisa sits on her bed, bathed in the cold light of her laptop. On screen: a thousand videos of glossy, laughing people. A montage of impossible aesthetics.
Her reflection in the dark window looks back at her. Defeated.
She opens a search bar. Types: “how to not be mid.”
MUSIC SWELLS – A synth-driven, melancholic tune.
QUICK MONTAGE – “THE GLOW-UP”
A. Lisa uses Marge’s sewing machine. Fabric flies.
B. Lisa sketches wildly in her notebook. Outlines of daring outfits.
C. Lisa trades her classic red dress to MILHOUSE for a pair of horrifyingly large, neon-platform sneakers.
D. Lisa practices a new, aloof expression in the mirror. It looks like she smells something bad.
MONTAGE ENDS
Lisa stands before her full-length mirror. She is transformed. A chaotic explosion of clashing patterns, neon fishnets, and the giant shoes. It’s a fit that screams.
She strikes a pose.
LISA (V.O.)
Main character energy. Activated.
CUT TO BLACK.
END OF ACT ONE
ACT TWO
SCENE 5
EXT. SPRINGFIELD ELEMENTARY – SCHOOL YARD – NEXT DAY
FADE IN:
A crowd has gathered. In the center is NEW LISA. She moves with a slow, deliberate swagger. The crowd PARTS for her.
MARTIN PRINCE adjusts his glasses, consulting a clipboard.
MARTIN
Fascinating! The shift from relatable intellectual to intimidating trend-icon represents a total deconstruction of her previous social capital algorithm!
LISA
(To no one in particular)
My vibe is… cryptic. My energy is… expensive. Don’t kill my aura.
A hush falls. She has slayed.
Bart watches from his stall, which is now abandoned. His jaw is on the ground. This isn’t part of his business plan.
BART
(To Milhouse)
She… she ated. She left my crumbs.
SCENE 6
INT. MOE’S TAVERN – DAY
Homer and MOE are at the bar. MOE is crying into a rag.
MOE
Nobody gets the ick faster than my regulars, Homer. One minute they’re here, the next they’re touching grass at some artisanal cider mill.
Homer nods, spraying his “Cringe Repellent” into his mouth.
HOMER
It’s a tough market, Moe. Everything’s bussin’ or it’s cooked. No in-between.
The door swings open. NEW LISA enters. The ambient dive-bar chatter DIES.
She walks to the bar, the giant shoes CLACKING on the sticky floor. She doesn’t sit. She perches.
LISA
(Tone flat, cool)
Top shelf. Your least mid offering. And a side of… existential dread. No cap.
Moe stares, then looks at Homer in pure terror.
MOE
(Whispering)
What do I do, Homer? I don’t speak… teenager!
HOMER
(Shrugs, sprays more spray)
Just give her a Squishie. That’s what I do.
SCENE 7
EXT. SPRINGFIELD STREETS – LATER
Lisa walks home, her confidence a visible force field. She passes various townsfolk, who react in character:
NED FLANDERS does a double-take, dropping his grocery bag. “Well, diddly-ouch! That’s a… loud diddly-outfit!”
APU leans out of the Kwik-E-Mart. “Such bold anti-fashion! The profit margin on regret for this look must be tremendous!”
COMIC BOOK GUY watches from his store window. “Worst. Personality Transplant. Ever.”
Lisa’s smirk doesn’t falter. She is winning.
DISSOLVE TO:
SCENE 8
INT. KRUSTY STUDIOS – BACKSTAGE
KRUSTY THE CLOWN is having a cigarette, looking more than usually exhausted. His agent, a hyper weasel, holds a tablet.
AGENT
The kids, Krusty! They speak a new tongue! We need relevance! We need… rizz!
Bart Simpson appears from behind a flat, holding his now-dusty “Get Rizz” sign.
BART
You need a consultant. Someone who speaks Boomer and Zoomer. A liaison to the cringe.
Krusty eyes Bart with the weariness of a thousand failed merchandising deals.
KRUSTY
What’s the angle, kid?
BART
We do a live special. “Krusty’s Klassy Rizz-a-Thon.” You try to learn the slang. It’s funny ’cause you’re old and desperate.
Krusty thinks for a long moment. He drops his cigarette, grinds it out.
KRUSTY
(Sighs)
Get me a writers’ room full of depressed teenagers. And a defibrillator.
MATCH CUT TO:
SCENE 9
INT. SIMPSON HOUSE – LIVING ROOM – NIGHT
The family is watching the “Rizz-a-Thon” on TV. It is a disaster.
ON SCREEN: Krusty, in a desperate leather jacket, stands next to a glitterboard that says “RIZZ.”
KRUSTY (ON TV)
So, you see, my fellow… youths… when you have the… sheesh… no, the bussin’… you can really… no cap your way to the bank! Periodt?
The live studio audience of teenagers is silent. One loudly eats a bag of chips.
In the living room, New Lisa watches, her cool facade finally cracking. A flicker of pain. This is her world, commodified and murdered on live TV.
LISA
(Voice small)
He’s… he’s cooking nothing. He’s just… burning the kitchen down.
Homer chuckles, spraying his spray directly at the TV.
HOMER
I don’t get it, but I love it! It’s like my brain is getting a… scrub-a-dub-dub!
Marge looks from the grotesque TV to Lisa’s pained face. She understands.
MARGE
(Laying a hand on Lisa’s shoulder)
Sometimes, the thing you want most… isn’t what you need at all.
CLOSE ON LISA – The neon armor is gone from her eyes. Just an eight-year-old girl, lost.
CUT TO BLACK.
END OF ACT TWO
ACT THREE
SCENE 10
INT. SIMPSON HOUSE – ATTIC – NIGHT
FADE IN:
Lisa is in the attic, bathed in the light of a single bare bulb. The neon outfit is in a heap on the floor. She’s back in her normal clothes.
She’s looking at an old photo album. Pictures of her, Bart, and Maggie. Real smiles.
LISA (V.O.)
I built a fortress out of words I didn’t understand. To keep a feeling out. But the feeling… was me.
SCENE 11
INT. SIMPSON HOUSE – HALLWAY – MOMENTS LATER
Lisa walks downstairs. She passes Bart’s room. The door is ajar.
INSIDE BART’S ROOM: Bart is staring at his “Get Rizz” sign. He looks… defeated. He takes a marker and writes a giant, sad “L” over it.
Lisa pauses, then keeps walking.
SCENE 12
INT. SIMPSON HOUSE – KITCHEN – CONTINUOUS
Marge is making hot chocolate. Homer is trying to fit the “Cringe Repellent” bottle into the microwave (“For concentrated vibes!”).
Lisa enters. She sits at her spot at the table.
LISA
I’m… ded. The online me. I let it ghost the real me. It was a situationship with myself.
Marge places a mug in front of her. Homer stops microwaving the plastic bottle.
MARGE
The real you is the only one we have a tab for.
Homer sits, the chair groaning.
HOMER
You know what’s never mid, sweetie? You. You’re… the GOAT. Of being my daughter.
It’s the most sincere thing he’s said in years. Lisa’s eyes well up.
BART (O.S.)
Ugh, can the cringe. I’m trying to have an existential crisis in here.
Bart slouches into the kitchen doorway. He won’t meet Lisa’s eyes.
LISA
Your business model was flawed, Bart. You can’t sell what you have to grow yourself.
BART
(Scoffs, but it’s weak)
Whatever. My portfolio is… diversified.
He shuffles in, sits. Marge puts a mug in front of him too. The family, a chaotic, mismatched set, is together at the table.
WIDER SHOT – The Simpson family kitchen. Quiet. No slang. Just the sound of sipping.
HOMER
So… this brain rot. Is there a cure?
LISA
(Small smile)
Yeah. This.
FINAL SHOT – The family at the table. A perfect, fragile, beautiful L of a moment. And somehow, that makes it a W.
HOLD.
SLOW FADE TO BLACK.
THE END.
