According to our Mayan calendar,
the world will be destroyed
at the end of the 13th baktun.
Unless we appease the gods' anger with a human sacrifice.
More cricket fajitas!
Oh, my brave, brave glutton.
I'll be so lonely when they sacrifice you to the gods.
What?!
All right already, let's get this done
while our doomed civilization is still flourishing here.
Tell me, High Priest,
are you interested in women?
would you mind putting a sack over your head?
Is there any other way? (chuckles)
Nice and tight.
-Now enter the Room of Pleasure. -Ooh.
Ooh, that's a good start, but, you know, make it hurt.
-(sword whooshes) -Heh. Ooh!
That whooshing sound is really turning me...
Oh!
(groans)
(kids laughing)
Man, soccer's even boring for the ball.
Quetzal H. Coatl!
We sacrificed the wrong person!
Let's see, uh, converting to base 10,
assuming for the birth of Jesus,
invent and then carry the leap year,
and the world will end in 2012!
Oh! What have we here?
Ow!
What the hell?
(Homer screaming and crying)
Welcome to the grand opening of our whatchamacallit,
which, thanks to the lobbying of Lisa Simpson,
we built instead of a new baseball stadium.
(electrical humming)
(man coughs)
Oh, my God particle!
when humanity finally learned that this accelerator
is much too small to tell us anything important.
(whirring)
(whirring growing more high-pitched)
(crashing)
(crackling)
(slurping)
(sobbing)
Huh?
(slurping)
(gasps) A mini black hole!
(slurps)
Whee...!
Oh, no! I got to take it away
before more clueless kids fall into it.
(whooshing)
-I's rich! -(slurping)
I's poor and shack-less.
Lisa, do you have a stray dog down there?
Um, it's a lot worse than a stray dog.
Two stray dogs?!
It's a black hole!
That was gonna be my next guess.
A black hole?! I'm sorry, can we call it that?
Yes. It's the preferred term.
And most scientists believe that what enters a black hole
never comes out.
Come on. You can't look at that infinitely dense little guy
and not want to feed it something.
Dad, don't pat it!
-Why shouldn't... (screams) -(chuckles)
Why you little... (grunting)
I'm putting a baby gate across the black hole.
And don't throw anything more into it!
(groans) Yes, Homer?
Dad, that's creepy.
Sorry.
I know we shouldn't feed this,
but grease brings raccoons.
♪ Gone, gone, gone ♪
♪ Really gone ♪
♪ Gone, gone, gone ♪
♪ Ah, ah... ♪
Huh? Oh-oh!
(slurping)
(clattering)
Quit bageling my English muffins!
The black hole is looking a lot bigger.
Does anybody want to admit to throwing things in?
-No. -Not me.
Do we even still have that thing?
Now what?
Okay, it's possible someone may have started a business
called Magic Craphole Waste Removal,
-but it wasn't me. -Ew!
(Homer chuckling)
-(pops) -Yar!
Yar, arr.
Stop! This is a black hole, not a lawn-and-leaf bag!
If one more thing gets in there, it could reach critical mass.
I did it! I hit my first home run!
LISA: No...!
(people screaming)
I'm still proud of you, buddy.
And look! I got money to take you for pizza!
You saw that I had the money, right?
(grunting)
(screaming)
(suckling)
(gasping)
(grunting)
Welcome, trans-dimensional visitors.
We have received your many gifts with gratitude.
NELSON: Haw-haw!
Our favorite food is your banana peel.
(slurps)
And we listen to all our music
on the most wonderful device ever created,
the Zune.
(chanting) Zune, Zune, Zune.