The Simpsons/Season 7

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The Simpsons (1989–present) is an American animated sitcom broadcast by the Fox Broadcasting Company created by Matt Groening. The series is a satirical depiction of American life, epitomized by the Simpson family.

[Smithers sits in a confessional.]

Smithers: Father, I'm not a Catholic, but... I tried to march in the St. Patrick's Day parade... anyway, I've got a rather large sin to confess. I'm the one who... [breaks down sobbing] who shot Mr. Burns!

[Chief Wiggum opens the screen and cocks his pistol.]

Chief Wiggum: That's all I needed to hear. Boy, this thing works great.

[Eddie and Lou interrogate Moe with a lie detector.]

Eddie: Did you hold a grudge against Montgomery Burns?

Moe: No. [buzz, red light] All right, maybe I did. But I didn't shoot him! [ding, green light]

Eddie: Checks out. Okay, sir, you're free to go.

Moe: Good, 'cause I got a hot date tonight. [buzz] A date. [buzz] Dinner with friends. [buzz] Dinner alone. [buzz] Watching TV alone. [buzz] All right! I'm going to sit at home and ogle the ladies in the Victoria's Secret catalog! [buzz] ... [hangs head] Sears catalog. [ding] Now, would you unhook this already, please?! I don't deserve this kind of shabby treatment! [buzz]

[Homer is pointing Chief Wiggum's gun at Mr. Burns's forehead]

Homer: Say it, Burns! Say I never shot you! ...before.

Mr. Burns: [unaware] Shot? By you my primitive friend, I'm afraid not. Your kind has neither the cranial capacity nor the opposable digits to correctly operate a firearm. The one who shot me was...[scans the crowd; screams] MAGGIE SIMPSON!

Mr. Burns: Officers, arrest the baby!

Chief Wiggum: Yeah, right, pops. No jury in the world is gonna convict a baby... maybe Texas.

[Executive producer is looking through Variety magazine to scout out a potential location to film the Radioactive Man movie. He sees full page colorful ads that say "Film New York", "Film Utah" and "Film Texas" before coming to a small section that says "Film Springfield"]

Executive producer: Wow, look at that ad! This town must be hot. They don't need a big ad or even correct spelling! [buzzes his secretary] Get me two tickets to the state Springfield is in!

Bart: George Burns was right. Show business is a hideous bitch goddess.

Lisa: Cheer up, Bart. Milhouse is still going to need a true friend. Someone to tell him he's great. Someone to rub lotion on him. Someone he can hurl whiskey bottles at when he's feeling low.

Bart: You're right, Lis, I can suck up to him. Like the religious people suck up to God.

[Chief Wiggum has given Milhouse's scent to a pack of vicious-looking police dogs. They bolt off, barking and snarling aggressively]

Chief Wiggum: Ok, we can all stop worrying now. These dogs never fail.

Kirk Van Houten: [exchanges a worried glance with Luanne] But... will they just find Milhouse, or will they find him and kill him?

Chief Wiggum: Well, they'll... when they find him, they'll um... they'll humm...um...um...um...[murmuring so quietly he can barely be heard] ...bust him...

Kirk Van Houten: [frowns] Uh, excuse me, you didn't answer me. You just trailed off.

Chief Wiggum: [rubs back of neck] Yeah. Yeah, I did kinda trail off there, didn't I? [laughs nervously]

Rainer Wolfcastle: (as he's hit by a wave of sulfuric acid) My eyes.. the goggles do nothing...

[Homer and Marge enjoy a day at the spa, lounging in a sauna]

Marge: This is soooo relaxing. Homie, this is a wonderful idea.

Homer: Hehehe, yeah. If that Mafia guy weren't staring at us, I'd take off my towel.

Mafia Guy: [off-camera] Aw don't mind-a me. Look, I do it first.

[The sound of a towel dropping to the floor is heard. Homer and Marge stare uncomfortably]

Nelson: [dressed up for school pictures] I feel like punching myself!

Social Welfare Guy: [to Bart, Lisa and Maggie] Now just relax, kids. All were doing is taking you to… [ominously] a foster home!

[Bart and Lisa have been taken by Social Welfare and are taken to the Flanders' house.]

Homer: We leave you the kids for three hours and the county takes them away?!

Grampa: Oh, bitch, bitch, bitch!

Homer: Okay, don't panic! To find Flanders, you just have to think like Flanders...

Homer's brain: I'm a big four-eyed lame-o. I wear the same stupid sweater everyday at--

Homer: The Springfield River!

Bart: Wow, Dad, you took a baptismal for me. How do you feel?

Homer: [blissfully] Oh, Bartholomew, I feel like St. Augustine of Hippo after his conversion by Ambrose of Milan.

Ned: Wait! Homer, what did you just say?

Homer: (nastily) I SAID, "SHUT YOUR UGLY FACE, FLANDERS!!"

Ned: Oh, fair enough.

Ned: [greeting Bart and Lisa] Hi-dilly ho, neglect-a-renos!

Reverend Lovejoy: I know one of you is responsible for this, so repeat after me: If I withhold the truth may I go straight to hell, where I will eat naught but burning hot coals and drink naught but burning hot cola...

Ralph Wiggum: [scared] Where fiery demons will punch me in the back...

Bart: [nonchalant] Where my soul will be chopped into confetti and strewn upon a parade of murderers and single mothers...

Milhouse: [clearly nervous] Where my tongue will be torn out by ravenous birds...

[A raven outside crows menacingly.]

Milhouse: Bart did it! That Bart, right there!

Bart: [angry] Milhouse!

Reverend Lovejoy: Milhouse, you did the right thing. Bart, come with me for punishment. [grabs Bart, then reaches back for Milhouse] You too, snitchy.

[Bart and Milhouse start cleaning the organ pipes as Reverend Lovejoy leaves]

Bart: You shank! How could you tell on me?!

Milhouse: Well, I didn't want hungry birds pecking my soul forever.

Bart: "Soul"?! Come on, Milhouse, there's no such thing as a soul. It's just something they made up to scare kids, like the Boogeyman or Michael Jackson.

Milhouse: But every religion says there's a soul, Bart. Why would they lie? What would they have to gain? [see Lovejoy using the coin counter with collection money]

Reverend Lovejoy: I don't hear scrubbing!

Bart: Well, if your soul's real, where is it? [Milhouse puts his hand on his chest]

Milhouse: It's kinda in here... and when you sneeze, that's your soul trying to escape. Saying "God bless you" crams it back in. And when you die, it squirms out and flies away!

Bart: Uh-huh. What if you die in a submarine at the bottom of the ocean?

Milhouse: Oh, it can swim. It's even got wheels, in case you die in the desert and it has to drive to the cemetery.

Bart: [groans] How can someone with glasses that thick be so stupid? Listen, you don't have a soul. I don't have a soul. There's no such thing as a soul!

Milhouse: Fine. If you're so sure about that, why don't you sell your soul to me?

Bart: [pause] How much ya got?

Milhouse: Five bucks.

Bart: ..Deal.

Bart: [watching "Itchy & Scratchy"] I know that's funny, but I'm just not laughing.

Lisa: Hmmm, Pablo Neruda said "Laughter is the language of the soul."

Bart: I am familiar with the works of Pablo Neruda.

Moe: The deep fryer's here! I got it used from the Navy. You can flash-fry a buffalo in 40 seconds.

Homer: Forty seconds?! But I want it now!

Marge: Hmm. Bart, what's wrong? There's something a little off about your hug.

Bart: Mom, I need to tell you something. I kind of --

Marge: [interrupts] Let me guess. A mother can always tell. [hugs him a bit] Hmm. It's not fear of nuclear war. [hugs him more] It's not swim-test anxiety. It almost feels like you're missing something...something important.

Bart: [eager] Like I don't have a soul?

Marge: [chuckles] Aw, honey, you're not a monster.

Lisa: I would like to say grace. [saying grace] Lord, have mercy on my soul... and Mom's soul, and Dad's soul, and Maggie's soul. And let every soul in Christendom-

[Bart throws a meatball at Lisa]

Marge: Bart!

Bart: I can't take this anymore! I want my soul, and I want it now! [runs out]

Homer: Bart! You didn't finish your spaghetti and Moe-balls!

Homer's brain: Silence, you fool. It can be ours.

[Homer eats Bart's spaghetti]

Homer: [mouthful] Run, boy! Run! Run for your life... boy.!

[Pieces of Uncle Moe's family feedbag are being taken away]

Moe: Get rid of it all.

Barney: Hey Moe, you could've at least kept the fire extinguishers.

Moe: Nah, too many bad memories.

Nana Van Houten: A caller at this hour? You dial nine-one, then when I say so, dial one again.

Milhouse: I'm really sorry... I kind of traded your soul to the guy at the comic book store. But look! I got some cool pogs: ALF pogs! Remember ALF? He's back... in pog form!

Bart: You traded my soul for pogs?! [runs out screaming] Noooooooo!

Nana Van Houten: Close that door, you're letting the heat out!

Kirk Van Houten: Shut up, shut up, shut up!

Bart: [his soul floats down from above] [he grabs it and hugs it, and sees Lisa standing there] Lisa? You bought this?

Lisa: With the change in my piggy bank.

Bart: There's no change in your piggy bank.

Lisa: Not in any of the ones you know about.

Bart: Oh, Lis, thank you. [kisses her]

Lisa: Happy to do it. But you know, Bart, some philosophers believe that nobody is born with a soul -- that you have to earn one [Bart eats the piece of paper] through suffering and thought and prayer, like you did last night.

Bart: Uh huh. [swallows]

[the family is having lamb chops for dinner and Lisa has discovered she can't eat them]

Lisa: What's the difference between this lamb and the one that kissed me?

Bart: This one spent two hours in the broiler.

[Homer and Bart are chasing the runaway pig for the barbecue. It rolls through some bushes]

Homer: It's just a little dirty, it's still good, it's still good!

[the pig passes through traffic, hits a guardrail and falls into a canal with toxic waste drums in it]

Homer: It's just a little slimy, it's still good, it's still good!

[the pig gets caught in the dam spillway. Water floods behind it until the built-up pressure shoots it through the spillway and rocketing into the distance]

Homer: It's just a little airborne, it's still good, it's still good!

Bart: It's gone.

Homer: I know.

[in Mr. Burns' office]

Mr. Burns: You know, Smithers, I think I'll donate a million dollars to the local orphanage... when pigs fly!

[they both laugh. A moment later the pig sails past the window]

Smithers: Will you be donating that million dollars now, sir?

Mr. Burns: No, I'd still prefer not.

[Lisa is using the riding lawnmower to push the barbecue pig out of the yard.]

Marge: Bart, no!

Bart: [standing next to her] What?

Marge: Sorry, force of habit. Lisa, no!

Homer: Marge, since I'm not talking to Lisa, would you please ask her to pass me the syrup?

Marge: [sighs] Please pass your father the syrup, Lisa.

Lisa: Bart, tell Dad I'll only pass the syrup if it won't be used on any meat product.

Bart: You dunkin' your sausages in that syrup, homeboy?

Homer: Marge, tell Bart I just want to drink a nice glass of syrup like I do every morning.

Marge: Tell him yourself, you're ignoring Lisa, not Bart.

Homer: Bart, thank your mother for pointing that out.

Marge: Homer, you're not-not talking to me and secondly I heard what you said.

Homer: Lisa, tell your mother to get off my case.

Bart: Uh, Dad, Lisa's the one you're not talking to.

Homer: Bart, go to your room!

Lisa: Why don't you just eat him, Dad?

Homer: [turns red in anger and gets frustrated] I don't need any serving suggestions from you! You barbecue-wrecking, know-nothing know-it-all!

Lisa: [pissed off] THAT'S IT! I can't live in a house with this prehistoric carnivore. I am OUT OF HERE!

[Lisa furiously leaves the house and angrily slams the door]

Homer: THAT'S IT! GO TO YOUR ROOM!

[later in Storytown Village]

Father Bear: "Somebody's been sleeping in my bed."

Mother Bear: "Somebody's been sleeping in my bed."(distorted due to technical problems)

Baby Bear: "Somebody's been sleeping in my bed."

Abe: [gets up] Well, I'm sorry, but it was 150 degrees in the car!

[at Skinner's office]

Skinner: Uh-oh. Two independent thought alarms in one day. The students are overstimulated. Willie, remove all the colored chalk from the classrooms.

Willie: I WARNED YA!! Didn't I warn ya!? That colored chalk was forged by Lucifer himself!!

[During "The Meat Council Presents: Meat and You: Partners in Freedom", Number 3F03 in the "Resistance is Useless" series.]'

Jimmy: Mr. McClure, I have a crazy friend who says it's wrong to eat meat. Is he crazy?

Troy McClure: [laughing] No, Jimmy, just ignorant. You see, your crazy friend never heard of the food chain. Just ask this scientitian.

Scientist: Uhhh...

Troy McClure: He'll tell you that in nature one creature invariably eats another to survive. Don't kid yourself, Jimmy. If a cow ever got the chance, he'd eat you and everyone you care about!

Jimmy: Wow, Mr. McClure, I was a Grade A Moron to ever question eating meat.

Troy McClure: Ha Ha Ha Ha... Yes you were, Jimmy. Yes you were. [playfully rubs Jimmy's head]

Jimmy: You're hurting me...

[Lisa is about to dissect a worm in class]'

Worm: [in a bleating, lamb-like voice] Lisa! What did I ever do to you?

Lisa: Why does it talk like a lamb?

Homer: (laughs) I've got your doughnut, Lard Lad! And what are you going to do about it?

[The Zip Boys mascots come to life]

Old Jewish Man: Fellas! Where are you going at this hour? [their heads, being so huge, fall to the ground under their own weight and they drag them away] Hey! Don't scratch up them heads!

[Seeing a very tall man Chief Wiggum pulls out his gun and shoots him]

Wiggum: Aw, they're not so tough.

Lou: Um...Chief, that wasn't a monster. That was the captain of the high school basketball team.

Wiggum: Uh, yeah, well, he was turning into a monster, though.

Skinner: Wheel him out quietly. It's best the children don't see me. [Lunchlady Doris wheels Martin out, but Skinner's foot is on the sheet. The sheet is pulled off Martin, and the kids scream at his grotesquely frozen corpse] Oh, just get him out of there! [picks up the sheet] Not into the kindergarten! [kindergartners screams are heard]

Lisa: Bart, don't you realize what this means? The next time we fall asleep, we could die!

Abe: Eh, welcome to my world! [falls asleep]

Homer's Brain: [as he enters the 3rd dimension] Oh, glory of glories. Oh, heavenly testament to the eternal majesty of God's creation.

Homer: Holy macaroni!

[Lard Lad's giant donut is in the middle of the Simpsons' living room, along with Homer lying in the center of it. The doorbell rings, and Homer is greeted by the angry face of Lard Lad]

Homer: Hello? Yes? Oh...if you're looking for that giant donut, uh..Flanders has it. Just go smash open his house. [Homer closes the door as loud footsteps trail off] He came to life. Good for him. [smashing is heard as the screen shakes, and footsteps are heard hurriedly heading back to the Simpsons home. The doorbell rings, Homer answers and is greeted by the same angrier Lard Lad]

Ned: [running in the background] Help me Lord!

Homer: I told you, Flanders has it! Or Moe. Go kill Moe.

[Homer drives through an alley of Advertisements. Lardlad Donuts is Homer's Favorite]

Homer: Ah, the Miracle Mile, where value wears a neon sombrero and there's not a single Church or Library to offend the Eye. There it is! The chain that put the "fat" in "fat Southern Sheriffs".

Attack of the 50 Foot Eyesores

Homer: [places a dollar on the counter] I'd like a colossal donut, please. Just like the one on the sign. [Homer is given a regular-sized donut] D'oh! Nuts... That's false advertising!

Squeaky-Voiced Teen: Sorry, sir. No refunds.

Homer: [slowly] I paid for a colossal donut, and I'm gonna get a colossal donut! (walks away)

Squeaky-Voiced Teen: You don't scare us.

Radio Announcer: Astronomers from Tacoma to Vladivostok have just reported an ionic disturbance in the vicinity of the Van Allen belt. Scientists are recommending that all necessary precautions be taken.

Homer: [scoffs] Eggheads… What do they know?

[Homer puts the giant metal donut in his living room and drinks a beer on top of it in his underwear.]

Marge: Homer! Where did you get that?

Homer: Get what?

Marge: That giant donut.

Homer: Well, I acquired it legally. You can be sure of that.

Kent Brockman: [on TV] Good morning, everybody. Panic is gripping Springfield as giant advertising mascots rampage through the city. Perhaps it's part of some daring new ad campaign, but what new product could justify such carnage? [behind him, a poster of himself comes to life] A cleanser? A fat-free fudge cake that doesn't let you down in the flavor department like so many others? Would... [gets grabbed by his giant doppelganger] D-ooh! Let me go... no! Stop! No!

[A "Technical difficulties" sign appears]

Chief Wiggum: [after he shot what he thought was a monster] Eh, they're not so tough.

Lou: Um… Chief, that wasn't a monster; that was the captain of the high school basketball team.

Chief Wiggum: Uh, yeah... Well, he was turning into a monster, though.

[At the Simpson house, the doorbell rings]

Homer: Hello? Yes? [opens door and sees Lard Lad] Oh, it's you… Uh, if you're looking for that donut of yours, um… Flanders has it. Go smash open his house.

[Homer shuts the door as Lard Lad leaves.]

Homer: [to himself] He came to life… Good for him.

[Loud smashing is heard, then loud thumping and the doorbell; Homer opens the door and sees Lard Lad again.]

Ned: [runs past] Help me, Lord!

Homer: I told you! Flanders has it! …Or Moe. Go kill Moe.

Marge: Homer! Give him the donut! Once he has it, it will be the end of all this horror!

Homer: Well, okay… If it will end horror…

Homer: [after Lard Lad continues destroying the town] Don't you ever get tired of being wrong all the time?

Marge: [thinks to herself] Sometimes...

Marge: These monsters are destroying everything and everyone we hold dear! And you kids should have jackets on.

Lisa: If your advertising agency created all those giant characters, you must know how to stop them.

Advertising Man: Well sir, advertising is a funny thing. If people stop paying attention to it, pretty soon, it goes away.

Lisa: Like that old woman who couldn't find the beef?

Advertising Man: Exactly. If you stop paying attention to the monsters, they'll lose their powers.

Lisa: But people can't help looking at them. They're wrecking the town. [Out the window, the monsters wreck the town]

Advertising Man: You know, maybe a jingle would help. [plays a piano arpeggio, sings] Don't watch the mon-- [plays another arpeggio] Don't watch the...monsters-s-s. [chuckles] Well, it'll sound a lot better coming out of Paul Anka.

Lisa: Hey, Springfield! Are you suffering from the heartbreak of...Monster-itis? Then take a tip from Mr. Paul Anka!

Paul Anka: [singing] To stop these monsters 1-2-3, Here's a fresh new way that's trouble free, It's got Paul Anka's guarantee...

Lisa: [singing] Guarantee void in Tennessee.

Paul Anka and Lisa: [singing] Just don't look! Just don't look! Just don't look! Just don't look! Just don’t look! Just don’t look!

Lisa: It worked! They're all dead.

Bart: Well, except for chubsy-ubsy over there.

[everyone turns and gasps and Lard Lad tempts Homer with the giant donut]

Homer: Mmm...sprinkles.

Marge: Homer! Stop looking.

Lisa: Don't make us poke your eyes out, Dad. [they drag him away]

Homer: [groaning] Oh!

[Lard Lad collapses]

Kent Brockman: Even as I speak, the scourge of advertising could be heading toward your town! Lock your doors, bar your windows, because the next advertisement you see could destroy your house and eat your family!

Homer: We'll be right back.

Nightmare on Evergreen Terrace

[In Bart's dream]

Bart: OK, boy: catch the Frisbee. (Santa's Little Helper does so) Good catch, boy!

Santa's Little Helper: [taking the Frisbee from his mouth] Thanks, Bart. [throws it at him; it hits Bart in the face; Bart does a flip; "NO SALE" appears in his eyes and birds fly around his head] Oh, hard luck.

[Bart shakes his head to clear it, then spots Groundskeeper Willie dressed as Freddy Krueger, holding a rake]

Bart: [screams as his eyes bulge out]

[Groundskeeper Willie brandishes the rake; Bart holds up a "Yipes!" sign]

Groundskeeper Willie: Glad to rake your acquaintance. [laughs evilly; swipes at Bart, who wakes up yelling]

Bart: [sighs] Ohh...it was only a dream. [sees the scrapes on his stomach and yells again]

Homer: Bart! Is that you?

Bart: Yes!

Homer: Take out the garbage.

Bart: [talking about his dream] And then he raked me across the chest! And the weirdest thing was, it was that school janitor who mysteriously disappeared: Groundskeeper Willie!

Lisa: [gasps] Oh, my God! Bart, Groundskeeper Willy was in my nightmare too! [holds open hand] But he got me with hedge clippers. [her hair is missing two spikes]

Nelson: [gleaming] He ran his floor buffer over me.

Principal Skinner: [walking up, chuckling] Children, I couldn't help monitoring your conversation. There's no mystery about Willie. Why, he... simply disappeared. Now, let's have no more curiosity about this bizarre cover-up.

Mrs. Krabappel: Remember, class, the worse you do on this standardized test, the more funding the school gets. So don't knock yourselves out. You have three hours to...

Martin: Finished!

Mrs. Krabappel: [grunts] Then put your head down on your desk and sit quietly.

Martin: Ah, a duet of pleasures. [does so]

[In Martin's dream, he's dressed as a wizard]

Martin: I am the wondrous wizard of Latin! I am a dervish of declension and a conjurer of conjugation, with a million hit points and maximum charisma. [spots a blackboard with verbs written all over it] Aha! "Morire": to die. "Morit": he, she, or it dies.

[Groundskeeper Willie morphs out of the blackboard; Martin gasps]

Groundskeeper Willie: "Moris": you die.

Martin: [screams and runs off]

Groundskeeper Willie: [laughs] You've mastered a dead tongue, but can you handle a live one? [his tongue shoots out of his mouth, wraps around Martin, and squeezes him]

[In class, Martin twists and screams, then collapses on the floor dead]

Nelson: Ha-ha!

Principal Skinner: [to Lunchlady Doris] Wheel him out quietly. It's best the children don't see. [Lunchlady Doris starts wheeling out the trolley]

[The sheet which is stuck under Principal Skinner's foot, comes off]

Children: [seeing Martin's dead body and scream]

Principal Skinner: Oh, just get it out of here. Not into the kindergarten!

[Kindergarteners scream from outside]

Lisa: Mom! Dad! Martin died at school today!

Marge: I don't see what that has to do with Groundskeeper Willie.

Bart: Umm… we didn't mention Groundskeeper Willie, Mom.

Marge: Kids, it's time we told you the true story and put your fears to rest. It's a story of murder and revenge from beyond the grave.

Marge: [voice over] It all started on the 13th hour, of the 13th day, of the 13th month. We were there to discuss the misprinted calendars the school had purchased.

Homer: [shivering, looking at the calendar] Oh, lousy Smarch weather. [spies the thermostat with a note from Willy over it and reads it] "Do not touch. Willie." Good advice! [cranks it]

Principal Skinner: Our next budget item: $12 for doorknob repair.

Parents: Nay!

[A burning Groundskeeper Willie tries to escape, but the doorknob falls off]

Principal Skinner: Recharge fire extinguishers? Now, this is a, uh, free service of the fire department...

Parents: Nay!

Homer: Nay.

[Groundskeeper Willie tries to use the fire extinguisher, but it's empty; he breaks out of the furnace room and runs into the classroom]

Groundskeeper Willie: [still on fire] Help! Please help me!

Principal Skinner: Willie, please! Mr. Van Houten has the floor.

Kirk Van Houten: Er, I, for one, would like to see the cafeteria menus in advance so parents can adjust their dinner menus accordingly. I don't like the idea of Milhouse having 2 spaghetti meals in one day.

[Groundskeeper Willie explodes into flame and screams for a few seconds; the parents turn to watch]

Groundskeeper Willie: [looking like a skeleton] You'll pay for this...with your children's blood!

Chief Wiggum: Oh, right. How are you going to get them? Skeleton power?

Groundskeeper Willie: I'll strike where you cannot protect them... in their dreams!

Lisa: Bart! Do you realize what this means? The next time we fall asleep, we could die!

Grampa: Heh! Welcome to my world! [falls asleep and snores]

[Bart and Lisa try hard to stay awake that night. Lisa gives Maggie a Buzz Cola to drink while the three children watch "Asian Market Wrapup."]

TV Announcer: There's a volcano waiting to erupt in the Pacific Rim. Its name: medium-term convertible debentures.

Lisa: It's no use, Bart. We can't stay up forever.

Bart: You're right. The only thing left to do is go into my dream and force Willie into a final showdown. You stay awake, and if it looks like I'm in trouble, wake me up.

Lisa: OK. But promise you won't be grouchy.

Bart: Hey, Lawn Boy! You missed a spot! [motions to the sandbox]

Groundskeeper Willie: When I'm done with you, they'll have to do a compost-mortem!

Homer3 (Homer Cubed)

Homer: [In echo voice] Hello? Can anybody hear me?

Marge: Homer, where are you?

Homer: Uh... I'm somewhere where I don't know where I am!

Marge: Do you see towels? If you see towels, you're probably in the linen closet again.

Homer: Just a second! ... No, it's a place I've never been before!

Patty: Heh, the shower! [Patty and Selma laugh]

Homer: Hey!

Lisa: Well, where's my dad?

Frink: Well, it should be obvious to even the most dim-witted individual who holds an advanced degree in hyperbolic topology, n'gee, that Homer Simpson has stumbled into... [lights off] the third di-mension.

Lisa: [switches the light on] Sorry.

Frink: [draws a square on the chalkboard] Here is an ordinary square.

Chief Wiggum: Whoa, whoa! Slow down, egghead.

Frank: But suppose we extend the square beyond the two dimensions of our universe... along the hypothetical "Z" axis there.

Everyone: [gasps]

Frink: This forms a three-dimensional object known as a cube, or a "Frinkahedron," in honor of its discoverer, n-gl'hey, n'hey.

Homer: [in echo voice] Help me! Are you helping me? Or are you going on and on?

Frink: Oh, right. And, of course, within we find the doomed individual.

Chief Wiggum: Enough of your borax, Poindexter! A man's life is at stake. We need action!

[Wiggum takes out his gun and fires into the wall]

Chief Wiggum: Take that, you lousy dimension!

Hibbert: Homer, this is your physician, Dr. Julius Hibbert. Can you tell us what's it like in there?

Homer: Um, it's like, uh... did anyone see the movie Tron?

Hibbert: No.

Lisa: No.

Chief Wiggum: No.

Marge: No.

Bart: No.

Patty: No.

Chief Wiggum: No.

Ned: No.

Selma: No.

Frink: No.

Lovejoy: No.

Chief Wiggum: Yes. I no. I mean, no. No.

Bart: That does it! I'm going in there!

Marge: Bart! No!!

[Bart runs into the dimension, but Marge catches him and fails. He keeps running until he turns 3D too and looks around]

Bart: Cool man!

[the camera rotates and zooms out into a bird's-eye view of the green grid, Homer is nearing the edge of the green grid]

Homer: Oh, my God! I'm gonna be sucked into a black hole! I'm gonna be sucked into oblivion! And what's gonna become of me of the other side? I don't know!

Bart: I'll save you, Dad.

[Bart climbs onto the XYZ street sign]

Bart: I can't get any closer. You'll have to jump!

Homer: Piece of cake, son.

[runs into a hole, breaks into pieces]

Homer: Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap--

Bart: Aaaaaaaaah!

[the world exploses as Bart gets pulled back]

Dr. Nick: Instead of making sandwiches with bread, use pop tarts. Instead of chewing gum, chew bacon.

Bart: You could brush your teeth with milkshakes.

Dr. Nick: Hey, did you go to Hollywood Upstairs Medical College too?

Homer: Bart and Lisa have to go to school while I get to stay ho-ome, na-na-na-na-na!

Lisa: I like school.

Homer: Well, why don't you live in it then?

Lisa: I would if I could.

[Bart fantasizes about being a "lardo on workman's comp" like Homer.]

Bart: [showing a rag on a stick] (southern accent) I wash myself with a rag on a stick.

[The members of the press all applaud Bart.]

Homer: "Explosion imminent". [scrolls back through text, sees gas wasn't vented] Oh, my God! The plant's going to explode!

[Power Plant. Carl and Lenny walk past the rumbling tank without a clue]

Carl: Hey, that thing's going caca-cuckoo.

Lenny: Who cares? It's Homer's problem.

Homer: Wait! I know! [types] Vent gas. "Pressure too high"? "Tank must be shut down manually"? [to drinking bird] Oh, stupid bird! I never should have put you in charge! [strangles it a bit] Why you... Oh, who am I kidding? It's all my fault! [the bird nods] I gotta call the plant and warn them! [grabs phone, but his index finger is so fat that it depresses several keys at once]

Recording: The fingers you have used to dial are too fat. To obtain a special dialing wand, please mash the keypad with your palm now.

Homer: Ahhh! [runs to the car] I'm going to have to shut it down myself. Fat, don't fail me now! [jumps in car; tires blow out] D'oh! [jumps on skateboard; snaps in half] Oh-oh!

[Homer is driving a stolen ice-cream truck towards the cooling tower, with several power plant employees clinging to the sides.]

Homer: Get away, damn it! Run for your lives!

Worker 1: I'll take a rocket pop!

Worker 2: What can I get for thirty cents?!

Homer: Let go! I've got to get to the tank! [the truck crashes and tips on its side; Homer runs out]

Worker 3: Heck, I can't decide without the pictures.

Mr. Burns: [leading an exercise] Push out the jive... bring in the love...

Mr. Burns: Homer, your quick-thinking and bravery have turned a potential Chernobyl into a mere Three Mile Island. Bravo!

Lisa: I think it's ironic that Dad's girth saved the day, while a slimmer man would have fallen to his death.

Bart: And I think it's ironic that, for once, Dad's butt actually prevented the release of toxic ga-

Marge: Bart!

[Last lines of episode]

Mr. Burns: Now Homer, if there is anything else I can do for you, please let me know. [Homer looks at his family, and realizes his obesity is making life hard for them]

Homer: Can you please make me thin again?

Mr. Burns: I guarantee it.

[Nighttime. Homer and Burns are out in the exercise yard. Homer strains, trying to to a sit-up.]

Mr. Burns: 1. 1. 1! [throws down his megaphone in frustration] Bah! I'll just pay for the blasted liposuction.

Homer: Woo-hoo!

[After Homer has seemingly been sucked to his death in a hydro-electric turbine]

Mr. Burns: Smithers, who was that corpse?

Smithers: Homer Simpson, sir. [tearfully] One of the finest, bravest men to ever grace Sector 7-G... [calmly] I'll cross him off the list.

[Homer clears the moss away from the headstone of what he thinks is his mother's grave.]

Homer: Oh, Mom, I'm sorry I never visit, I'm just not a cemetery person. [reads tombstone engraving] "Here...lies..."

[He clears the last of the moss away. The name on the stone is Walt Whitman. Homer is enraged.]

Homer: Walt Whitman?! Arrrrgggghh!!! Damn you, Walt Whitman! [kicking the stone] I-hate-you-Walt-freaking-Whitman! Leaves of Grass, my ass!

[The FBI storm the Simpson house, looking for Mona.]

Friday: Freeze. FBI. The jig is up.

Grandpa: Alright, I admit it: I am the Lindbergh baby! Wah! Wah! Goo-goo. I missed my fly-fly, dada!

Friday: Are you trying to stall us, or are you just senile?

Grandpa: A little from column A, a little from column B.

Chief Wiggum: [Reading Homer's tombstone upside down] Put out an APB on a Uosdwis R. Dewoh. Yea, better start with Greek Town.

[Mona and Abe meet for the first time since Mona has come back]

Mona: Oh, Abe... you've aged terribly.

Grampa: [to Mona] Well, what do you expect?! You left me to raise the boy on my own!

Mona: [to Grampa] I had to leave! You didn't have to tell Homer I was dead!

Grampa: It was either that, or tell him his mother was a wanted criminal! You were a rotten wife, and I'll never, ever forgive you! (beat) Can we have sex? Please?

[In the post office]

Mr. Burns: Yes, I'd like to send this letter to the Prussian consulate in Siam by aeromail. Am I too late for the 4:30 autogyro?

Mona: [as she is leaving] Don't worry, Homer. You will always be a part of me. [hits her head on the van] D'oh!

[As the Simpsons enter the air show the squeaky voiced teen is standing at the gate in an Air Force uniform, directing traffic.]

Bart: Way to guard the parking lot, top gun.

Squeaky-Voiced Teen: I have three medals for this!

Hapablap: What in the world according to Garth? Those are my dress towels. Who's in my private washroom? McGuckett, let me in!

Sideshow Bob: The door already is closed.

Hapablap: What?! This is Colonel Leslie "Hap" Hapablap! If you don't open that door, I'll tear you up like a Kleenex at a snot party!

Sideshow Bob: You say you're in the military?

Hapablap: Sweet Enola Gay, son! I'm gonna come in there and corpse you up! Corpse you up and mail you to mama!

Guard: Authorization code.

Sideshow Bob: Code?! Son, this is Colonel Hapablap! This fool McGuckett sprayed runway foam all over Chuck Yeager's Acura! Now get down there with the chamois triple-time!

Guard: But Colonel, I'm under restricted orders...

Sideshow Bob: Sweet Enola Gay, son! Get moving or I'll tear you up like a Kleenex at a snot party.

Guard: Sir, right away, sir!

[Bart and Grandpa come across the Wright Brothers' airplane.]

Bart: Look at that hunk of junk.

Grampa: [sputters] You're ignorant! That's the Wright Brothers' plane! In Kitty Hawk in 1903, Charles Lindbergh flew it 15 miles on a thimble full of corn oil. Single-handedly won us the Civil War, it did.

Bart: How do you know so much about history, Grandpa?

Grandpa: I pieced it together, mostly from sugar packets.

Sideshow Bob: [speaking on a large TV screen] Hello, Springfield. Sorry to divert your attention from all the big noises and shiny things. But something's been troubling me lately: television! Wouldn't our lives be so much richer if television were done away with?

Moe: What?

Dr. Hibbert: Surely he's not talking about VH1.

Sideshow Bob: Why, we could revive the lost arts of conversation...and scrimshaw. Therefore I submit to you, we abolish television...permanently!

Homer: Go back to Massachusetts, pinko!

Sideshow Bob: Oh, and one more thing-- I've stolen a nuclear weapon. And if you do not rid this city of television in two hours, I will detonate it. Farewell. [Bob cuts the link, then turns it back on] By the way, I'm well aware of the irony of appearing on TV in order to decry it, so don't bother pointing that out.

Mayor Quimby: Our city will not negotiate with terrorists. Is there a city nearby that will?

Colonel: No need, sir. We'll find that head case faster than Garfield finds lasagne. [pause] Oh..I'm..sorry. My wife thought that was gang busters.

Chief Wiggum: Alright, Bob, it's over. Come out with your hands up.

Sideshow Bob: Noooo! How did they find me?

[The Duff blimp's variable message sign alerts the police to Sideshow Bob's hideout]

[Sideshow Bob deflates the blimp and kidnaps Bart]

Lisa: [constricted] He's getting away!

Colonel: Not the Harrier! We've got a war tommorow.

Milhouse: [sitting in the cockpit of an F-15 and pretending to fire its weapons] Take that Mom! [presses a button] Take that Dad! [presses another] Send me to a psychiatrist, will you?! Take that, Dr. Sally Waxler! [presses several buttons in rapid succession and is suddenly and violently ejected from the cockpit]

Troy McClure: Hi, I'm Troy McClure. You may remember me from such Fox Network specials as "Alien Nose Job" and "Five Fabulous Weeks of the Chevy Chase Show." Tonight we're here to honor America's favorite non-prehistoric cartoon family.

Troy McClure: Right about now, you're probably saying, "Troy, I've seen every Simpson's episode. You can't show me anything new." [harsh] Well, you got some attitude, mister!

[Deleted scene from Treehouse of Horror IV.]

Bart: I'd sell my soul for a Formula 1 racing car.

[Devil Flanders appears with a Formula 1 racing car.]

Devil Flanders: Heh, heh, heh, that can be arranged.

Bart: Changed my mind, sorry.

[Devil Flanders vanishes.]

Bart: Cooooool...

Marge: Bart, stop pestering Satan!

[Deleted scene from Burns' Heir.]

Homer: Bart, you're coming home!

Bart: I wanna stay here with Mr. Burns!

Mr. Burns: (threateningly) I suggest you leave immediately.

Homer: Or what? You'll release the dogs or the bees? Or the dogs with bees in their mouths and when they bark, they shoot bees at you? Well, go ahead: Do your worst!

Mr. Burns: "My worst," eh? Smithers, release the robotic Richard Simmons!

(Smithers pulls a lever on the side of the house. A door on the side of the stairs slides up, revealing a pear-shaped robot in a tank top and short-shorts with Richard Simmons' hair and voice. The robot walks up to Homer)

Robotic Simmons: Come on, big boys! Shake the butter off those buns!

(A speaker slides out the side of his head, blaring "Shake Your Booty" by K.C. and the Sunshine Band. The robot begins disco dancing and Homer tries to back away from him; Homer then runs screaming from Burns' manor; as Burns, Bart, and Smithers keep watching, they turn and find the robotic Simmons right next to them, still dancing and still playing "Shake Your Booty")

Robotic Simmons: Come on, come on, now. Shake, shake, shake. (continues dancing)

Mr. Burns: Smithers, he's out of control!

Smithers: I'll take him out, sir. (extracts his shotgun from his jacket pocket and shoots the robot square in the eye; the blown out eye reforms and the robot continues dancing, only this time, the music is warped and the robot begins shaking violently)

Smithers: His ass is gonna blow!

(Smithers, Burns, and Bart run screaming back into the house as the Robotic Simmons explodes, his head landing miles away at the mansion's front gate)

[One of the false endings to Who Shot Mister Burns?.]

Lisa: And, with your last ounce of strength, you pointed to W and S, Waylon Smithers.

[People gasp upon seeing Smithers is the one who shot Mr. Burns.]

Mr. Burns: Smithers, for attempting to kill me, I am giving you a 5% pay cut.

Smithers: Aww!

Troy McClure: But, of course, for that ending to work, you would have to ignore all the Simpson DNA evidence (chuckles) and that would be downright nutty!

Troy McClure: Yes, the Simpsons have come a long way since an old drunk made humans out of his rabbit characters to pay off his gambling debts. Who knows what adventures they'll have between now and the time the show becomes unprofitable?

Bart: Buy me Bonestorm or go to Hell!

Marge: BART!

Homer: Young man, in this house we use a little word called "please".

[as Bart contemplates stealing a copy of Bonestorm, he imagines several video game characters giving him advice]

Luigi: Go ahead, Bart. Take-a the Bonestorm.

Mario: The store, she's so rich! She'll-a never notice!

Donkey Kong: Duh, it's the company's fault for makin' ya want it so much.

Lee: Don't do it, son. How's that game gonna help your putting?

Sonic: Just take it! Take it! Take it! Take it! Take it! Take it! TAKE IT!

Det. Brodka: If I wanted smoke blown up my ass, I'd be at home with a pack of cigarettes and a short length of hose.

[A nervous Bart is seen getting dressed in his bedroom and he imagines Det. Brodka on the other side of the mirror.]

Det. Brodka: If you ever step foot in this store again, you'll be spending Christmas in juvenile hall. Juvenile Hall! Juvenile Hall!

[Bart imagines spending Christmas in juvenile hall with the bullies]

Guard: Stand behind the yellow line. You will now receive your gift donated by the port of authority lost and found office. Pass your chip to Santa to receive your Christmas present. If you do not have a chip, you will not receive a gift.

Jimbo: Whoa, the March Aid newspaper.

Nelson:[receiving a carpet samples book] Cool, a book of carpet samples.

Bart: Come on new bike. [drops his chip in and is disappointed when he receives a dirty wig] Aw, a soiled wig.

Santa: Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

[Lee Carvallo's putting challenge during the closing credits.]

Lee: Welcome to Lee Carvallo’s Putting Challenge. I am Carvallo. Now, choose a club.

You have selected... 3-wood. May I suggest a putter?

3-wood. Now select force of swing. I suggest feather touch.

You have entered Power Drive! Now, push 7-8-7 to swing.

Ball is in... parking lot. Would you like to play again?

You have selected no.

[Bart sees a sign saying "Bonestorm - 99 cents." He rushes inside.]

Bart: I'd like to buy a copy of Bonestorm. Here's 99 cents.

Comic Book Guy: [sighs] Allow me to summarize the proposed transaction. You wish to purchase Bonestorm for 99 cents. Net profit to me: negative 59 dollars. [opens the cash register] Please take my 59 dollars, I don't want it, it's yours. [Bart reaches forward to take the cash.] Eh-eh-eh--! Seeing as you are unfamiliar with sarcasm, I shall close the cash register at this point, and state that 99 cents is the rental price.

Bart: Then may I please rent it, please?

Comic Book Guy: No, you may not. I am all out, though I do have a surprising abundance of Lee Carvallo's Putting Challenge.

Milhouse: This is great, and all I've done is enter my name - Thrillhouse! [TV screen shows 'WELCOME THRILLHO']

Bart: [walking in] Say, cool dude, can I play too?

Milhouse: Uh, uh... it's only a one player game.

Bart: Then how come it says 'second player score'?

Milhouse: Mom, Bart's swearing!

Bart: Hey, how come you're not playing 'Bonestorm'?

Milhouse: Ehh... it got boring. I'm really into this cup and ball now! [laughing] You never know which way this crazy ball's gonna go!

Bart: Yeah, right. You're just trying to trick me because you don't want me playing your video game.

Milhouse: [giving Bart the video game] Here, go ahead.

Bart: No, let me try the cup and ball.

Milhouse: Get your own!

Bart: Come on! Don't be a cup-and-ball hog!

Milhouse: Hey! Give it! That's mine!

[Bart and Milhouse fight for the cup-and-ball.]

Milhouse: MOM! BART'S SMOKING!

Marge: What's the matter with your face? Is that a fake nose? Are you wearing chin putty?

Bart: I don't have to listen of these wild allegations! (nose putty falls off and lands near Santa's Little Helper. He eats it)

Marge:[removes the chin putty and hat off Bart] Please, Bart, no more pranks. It would mean so much to me if we could have just one nice family photo.

[She shows Bart three of their last Christmas photos with his previous misbehaviors: one with Bart making a cross-eyed funny face, another with Bart using a comb to simulate a Hitler mustache, and a third with Bart holding a cardboard speech bubble that reads, "I stink!" next to Homer.]

Homer: Hey, I don't remember saying that!

[Marge exits the bathroom and joins Homer who's wearing half-moon glasses. He has found a proper punishment for Bart, while she is still distraught by his shoplifting at Try 'n' Save.]

Homer: I've figured out the boy's punishment. First, he's grounded. No leaving the house, not even for school. Second, no egg nog. In fact, no nog, period. And third, absolutely no stealing for three months.

Marge: I always thought I understood my special little guy, but somewhere along the road, his hand slipped away from mine.

[looks at a handprint of "Bart, age 4"]

Homer: Ehh, what are you going to do?

[Marge looks over Homer's notepad, which reveals a drawing of a robot cooking a hot dog over a flaming trash can. Still, she is depressed over the whole shoplifting episode.]

Marge: [pause] Mmm. He's not my little baby anymore. Maybe I mother him too much.

[Brodka yanks Bart by the collar of his suit as the picture is being taken and takes him to the side. He is extremely angered at the boy for violating their deal in returning to the store.]

Det. Brodka: I thought I told you. Don't Return For Busted Merchandise.

Homer: What are you doing to my son?!

Det. Brodka: I'm afraid your son broke the 11th Commandment: Thou Shall Not Steal.

[Bart desperately tries to stop Brodka from showing the security tape of him shoplifting Bonestorm by standing in front of the big screen TV.]

Bart: Mom, I don't want you to see this. I did it.

[His timing is off, and everyone sees him taking the game and hiding it in the jacket. Everyone is in shock, including Marge and Lisa, while Homer is enraged.]

Lisa: Bart, I would never expected this from you.

Marge:[disheartened] Oh, Bart.

Moe: You go through life, you try be nice to people, you resist the urge to punch 'em in the face, and for what? For some pimply little puke to treat you like dirt! Well, I'm better than dirt! Well... most kinds of dirt. I mean, not that fancy store-bought dirt. That stuff's loaded with nutrients. I... I can't compete with that stuff.

Bart: Mom, my slingshot doesn't fit in these pockets. And these shorts leave nothing to the imagination. These uniforms suck.

Marge: Bart, where do you pick up words like that?

Homer: [on phone] Yeah, Moe, that team sure did suck last night. They just plain sucked. I've seen teams suck before, but they were the suckiest bunch of sucks that ever sucked.

Marge: Homer, watch your mouth!

Homer: Aw, I gotta go. My damn wiener kids are listening. [hangs up]

Mr. Burns: I would like to join your bowling team.

Homer: You want to join my what?

Smithers: You want to what his team?

Homer: Hey, everybody! If you wanna ask Burns for a favor, now's the time! He's doped up or dying or something! [Hans Moleman enters Burns' office]

Hans: Uh, excuse me, I'd like to request $17 for a push-broom rebristling.

Burns: Why, it's that delightful TV leprechaun! I'm going to get your Lucky Charms. [pulls out a drill and points it at Moleman's head.]

Hans: [offscreen] Oh no, my brains...

George Bush: Oh, if he thinks George Bush'll stay out of the sewer, he doesn't know George Bush.

Homer: He spanked you? [He's angry and points at Bart.] You? Bart Simpson?

Bart: I begged him to stop, but he said it was for the good of the nation.

Grampa: Big deal! When I was a pup, we got spanked by Presidents till the cows came home. Grover Cleveland spanked me on two non-consecutive occasions.

Marge: Grampa, I know in your day, spanking was common, but Homer and I just don't believe in that kind of punishment.

Grampa: And that's why your no-good kids are running wild!

[He points over at Lisa, in a beanbag chair, reading. She looks up, confused.]

Homer: First, Bush invades my home turf, then he takes my pals, then makes fun of the way I talk -- probably. Now, he steals my right to raise a disobedient, smart-alecky son! WELL, THAT'S IT!

[Homer watches Bush go jogging past with Reverend Lovejoy, Dr. Hibbert, and Lenny]

Homer: Huh. Look at those phonies, sucking up to Bush. [Santa's Little Helper barks and runs off after them] I guess you might say he's barking up the wrong Bush. [laughs]

Homer's Brain: Well there it is, Homer: the cleverest thing you'll ever say and nobody heard it.

Homer: D'oh!

Marge: [picks up a toy pistol] Well, we don't need this.

Homer: [ecstatic] Whic-- Marge! That's the Rhinestone Nights fashion gun! [holds a leather jacket] I need it to rhinestone up my old clothing.

Marge: Who's Disco Stu?

Homer: Uhh, I wanted to write "Disco Stud", but I ran out of space. Not that Disco Stu didn't get his share of the action!

[Seeing Homer's Disco Stu jacket]

Man: Hey Stu, you should buy this.

Disco Stu: Hey, Disco Stu doesn't advertise.

Homer: [singing, to the tune of "Big Spender"] Hey big spender! Dig this blender! Rainbow suspenders! Hey big spender!

Crowd: [singing] We surrender!

Homer: [singing] Spe-e-e-e-e-end some dough at table three!

[crowd applauds]

Homer: Thank you neighbors, thank you! Now let's give it up for table five! [singing, to the tune of "Stayin' Alive"] Ah, ah, ah, ah, table five, table five! Ah, ah, ah, ah, table fi-i-i-i-i-i-i-ive...

Stu: [after Homer stops] Disco Stu likes disco music.

Homer: For the last time Bush, apologize for spanking my boy!

Bush: Never. You make him apologize for destroying my memoirs.

Homer: [to Bart] You didn't tell me you destroyed his memoirs. NEVER!

Homer: Look at these low, low prices on famous brand-name electronics!

Bart: Don't be a sap, Dad. These are just crappy knock-offs!

Homer: Pfft! I know a genuine Panaphonics when I see one. And look, there's Magnetbox and Sorny.

[Homer has taken up golf as a hobby and is practicing hitting golf balls into the commodes in the men's room at the nuclear plant, which is clandestinely being observed by Mr. Burns and Smithers on their surveillance cameras.]

Mr. Burns: Smithers, who is that lavatory linksman?

Smithers: Homer Simpson, sir. From Sector 7-G.

Mr. Burns: Simpson, eh? Well, invite him to the country club. I believe I finally may have a challenge in golf. I have not lost a game since I let Richard Nixon win during his beleaguered second term.

Smithers: That was very thoughtful of you, sir.

Mr. Burns: Oh, he just looked so forlorn, Smithers, with his [imitating Nixon] "Ohhh, I can't go to prison, Monty. They'll eat me alive!" [normal voice] Say, I wonder if this Homer Nixon is of any relation?

Smithers: Unlikely sir, as they spell and pronounce their names differently.

Homer: But Marge... valets! For once maybe someone will call me "sir" without adding "You're making a scene."

Mr. Burns: Use an open faced club. A sand wedge.

Homer: Mmm, open faced club sandwich.

[Homer is putting the wrong score on his card]

Tom Kite: Hey the point of cheating at golf is to lower your score.

[After making a great shot]

Tom Kite: Great shot Homer.

Homer: You really think so?

Tom: Yeah. Now all you need is your own set of clubs. And stay the hell out of my locker! You can keep the shoes.

Bart: Boy, I sure could go for a hundred tacos right about now.

Marge: No! [yanks Bart. Comic Book Guy exits with a wheelbarrow full of tacos]

Comic Book Guy: Yes, this should provide adequate sustenance for the Doctor Who marathon.

[A series of IRS agents investigate Krusty's check, then place a call to his bank in the Cayman Islands.]

Cayman Islands Offshore Holding Corporation Manager: [chuckles] Oh, I'm sorry. I can't divulge information about that customer's secret, illegal account. [hangs up phone] ...Oh crap. I shouldn't have said he was a customer... Oh, crap. I shouldn't have said it was secret... Oh, crap! I certainly shouldn't have said it was illegal! [sits back, fanning himself] Ah, it's too hot today.

[Krusty is being audited by the IRS.]

Krusty: Oh, I can't go to jail! I got a swanky lifestyle! I'm used to the best!

IRS Agent #1: Krusty, this is America. We don't send our celebrities to jail; we're just going to garnish your salary.

Krusty: Garnish my celery?!

IRS Agent #1: Please, Krusty, no jokes.

Krusty: Who's joking?! [sobs] Oh, I don't know what you're saying, it all sounds so crazy to me!

IRS Agent #2: It simply means we will be taking part of your salary until your debt is repaid. Say, 75% for 40 years.

Krusty: But I don't plan to live that long!

IRS Agent #1: Better make it 95%.

Krusty: Oh-hoh, boy!

Troy McClure: Hello, I'm Troy McClure! You might remember me from such celebrity funerals as "Andre The Giant, We Hardly Knew Ye" and "Shemp Howard: Today We Mourn A Stooge."

Krusty: Who needs friends!? The incessant beep of the global positioning system is all the companionship I need. [The GPS electrocutes Krusty. In a fury, he throws it overboard.] Tell me where you are now, you bastard!

[Krusty's show has been taken over by the IRS]

Krusty: Hey, hey, kids! Now that the feds are calling the shots, this show's gotta be a lot more cost-effective. So we had to cut down on the thrills, like sets, props, costumes and Sideshow Mel. But that doesn't mean we can't have fun! For example, I sure wish someone would give me a banana cream pie! Yeah. Uh...

[An IRS agent backstage gestures that they don't have the money]

Krusty: I guess we can't afford pies right now. Well throw something!

[IRS agent throws his briefcase and it hits Krusty in the eye]

Krusty: OW! Oh, the corner hit... ughhhh....

[Skinner opens his front door and sees his mother with Superintendent Chalmers]

Skinner: Mother!

Agnes Skinner: Seymour!

Skinner: Superintendent Chalmers!

Chalmers: Skinner?!

Skinner: What I wouldn't give for something to distract from this awkward moment...

[Krusty flies by in his plane, sobbing and looping out of control.]

Skinner: That'll do nicely.

[Bart blows up a Krusty balloon and the face is deformed]

Bart: Have you seen this man?

Sea Captain: Aye, that's Handsome Pete. He dances for nickels.[Turns to the back door] Pete, ya got some customers!

[a dwarf whose face resembles Krusty's comes in and plays an accordion while dancing]

[Krusty's plane, the I'm-On-A-Rolla Gay, is being auctioned off. Krusty grabs the mic from the auctioneer and makes an emotional appeal]

Krusty: But I love that plane! I used to fly to Vegas in it with Dean Martin! One night he looked out the window, and the moon hit his eye like a big pizza pie! We wrote a song about it! But it ended up infringing on one he'd recorded years before...

[Krusty is sitting on the curb smoking a cigarette and drinking from a bottle in a paper bag. His home and belongings have just all been auctioned off. Bart approaches.]

Bart: Krusty? Hi. Is it okay if I sit down here?

Krusty: Go ahead, kid, knock yourself out.

Bart: [sits] I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused you, Krusty. But you know, my mom says God never closes a door without opening a window.

Krusty: Well, no offense kid, but your mom's a dingbat. There's no silver lining here. I was a big cheese. A HUGE CHEESE! But now look at me! I gotta ride the bus like a schnook. I gotta live in an apartment like an idiot. I gotta wait in line with nobodies to buy groceries from a FAILURE!

Bart: It doesn't matter how you live or what you did wrong. As long as you're on TV, people will respect you.

Krusty: Respect? BAH! What good is respect without the moolah to back it up? Everywhere I go I see teachers in Ferraris. Research scientists drinking champagne! I tried to drink a Coke on the bus, and they took away my pass! That's no life for a famous clown...

Bart: Well, if it'll make you feel any better, Krusty, you can punch me in the face.

[Bart cringes as Krusty angrily cocks his fist back. For a second it looks as though he'll do it, but he changes his mind.]

Krusty: Nah, forget it. Go home, kid.

Mrs. Krabappel: "Embiggens"? I never heard that word before I came to Springfield.

Miss Hoover: I don't know why. It's a perfectly cromulent word.

Homer: [ringing bell] Hear ye, hear ye! Ye olde town crier proclaimed crappy by all! Chooseth Homer Simpson, and he shalt rock thy world!

Chief Wiggum: My God, he is fabulous!

Principal Skinner: He's embiggened that role with his cromulent performance.

Betsy Ross: I got the white stars you wanted, but not the red hearts, yellow moons, and or green clovers.

George Washington: Well... I'll use it. But I'm not paying for it!

Hollis Hurlbut: Now get out. You're banned from this historical society. You and your children, and your children's children... for three months.

Mayor Quimby: Can't we have one meeting that doesn't end with us digging up a corpse?

Homer: I've got two questions. One: Where's the fife? Two: Give me the fife.

Mr. Burns: You should've seen the murderous glint in his eyes, Smithers. And his breath reeked of beer and pretzled bread.

Smithers: I'm so sorry, Mr. Burns. This was all my fault.

Mr. Burns: No, don't concern yourself. If things had turned ugly, I always had my mace. [motions to an actual mace]

Smithers: Don't let me off the hook that easily, sir. I failed you, and I'll never forgive myself! [Begins smashing his head against the steering wheel of the limo] Never! Never! Never! Never! Never! Never!

[Annoyed, Burns raises the shield between him and Smithers. His car phone rings, and he answers it.]

Smithers: [through the phone] Never! Never! Never!

Mr. Burns: [yelps as he turns on the lamp] 60 watts! What do you think this is, a tanning salon?! I asked for light starch on my nightcap! [Homer yelps as he gets poked by his nightcap] [soaks Homer with his drink] You call this postum?! [knocks over Homer's stack of paper] You call this a tax return?! [hits a generator with a crowbar which spews out smoke and sparks of electricity] You call this a super computer?! You're a travesty of a joke of an assistant!

[Homer screams and knocks Mr. Burns out]

Moe: Moe's Tavern.

Mr. Burns: I'm looking for a Mr. Smithers. First name Waylon.

Moe: Ohh. So you're looking for a Mr. Smithers eh? First name Waylon is it? Listen to me you! When I catch you I'm gonna pull out your eyes and shove them down your pants! So you can watch me kick the crap out of you okay! Then I'm gonna use your tongue to paint my boat!

Smithers: I have to find someone to replace me while I'm gone who won't outshine me. I'll search the employee database under the word "incompetent".

Computer: 714 matches found.

Smithers: 714 names? I'd better narrow the search. Let's see... "lazy", "clumsy", "monstrously ugly".

Computer: Searching... 714 matches found.

Smithers: Eh, nuts to this. I'll just go and get Homer Simpson.

Mr. Burns: Simpson? Simpson! Did you get that report on the accounting department?

Homer: Yes sir I did. [pulls out the report] The accounting department is located on the third floor. Its hours are 9AM to 5PM. The head of this department is a Mr.Johnston or Johnstone. [Mr.Burns grabs Homer's report, angrily crumples it up, and drops it]

Homer: Here are your messages: "You have 30 minutes to move your car," "You have 10 minutes," "Your car has been impounded," "Your car has been crushed into a cube," "You have 30 minutes to move your cube."

[phone rings]

Homer: [answering] Hello, Mr. Burns' office.

Mr. Burns: Is it about my cube?

Homer: Its Mr. Smithers. He's calling for you.

Smithers: Montgomery Burns' office. Oh hello, Mrs Burns. I'll see if your son is available.

Homer: Mr. Burns has a mother? She must be 100 million years old!

Smithers: [to Homer] She has limited capacities. All she can do is dial and yell. [talks back to Mrs Burns] I'm sorry, Monty can't come to the phone right now. He's in a very important meeting and can't be disturbed. [shot of Burns trying to avoid falling asleep] Uh-huh... okay, I'll give him the message. [hangs up] Mr. Burns can't stand talking to his mother. He never forgave her for having that affair with President Taft.

Homer: [chuckling] Taft, you old dog!

Smithers: [enters Moe's Tavern] Uh... hello. Got a help wanted sign on the window?

Moe: Uh, yeah. I need someone to help me with the midnight beer delivery. Your job is to distract Barney until it's safely off the truck.

Smithers: I'll just wait out back until then.

Barney: I look forward to working with you!

Homer: Mr. Smithers wait! You can't let yourself end up in a place like this. You've got two choices. You can give up on yourself and take the Barney-guarding job like so many of us have contemplated in our darkest moments. Or you can admit to yourself that there's only one person that can make you happy and do whatever it takes to get them back!

Smithers: You're right! But I'm gonna need your help.

( the Duff clock strikes 12 and it tolls)

Moe: Oh My God!

Truck Driver: Beer delivery. Just sign here. Oh, No! It's you!

[loud crashing]

Barney:[laughing] [Truck Driver: Hey!] Oh boy! [Truck Driver: give me that!] No! [empty metal containers rolling] (burps loudly)

Marge: Is there something wrong, Homie?

Homer: No.

Marge: Except?

Homer: Except... I killed Mr. Burns!

Lisa: What happened, Dad?

Homer: I punched Burns right in his 104-year-old face!

Lisa: Are you sure he's dead? Maybe you just really, really hurt him.

Marge: Okay, maybe everything is alright. Maybe if you go apologize, he might not even fire you... if he's alive.

Mr. Burns: Doughnuts? I told you I don't like ethnic foods.

[Homer is helping Smithers to a taxi with his bags]

Smithers: Is there anything else you need to know? [gets in]

Homer: Uhh... What do I do in case of fire?

Smithers: [The window is rolled up and his voice is muffled] Sorry, can't hear you. [Taxi starts driving off] Good luck.

[Homer goes back to Mr. Burns's office which is on fire]

Homer: Aww, just my luck.

Mr. Burns: Good Lord Smithers, you look atrocious! I thought I told you to take a vacation.

Homer: Uh, Smithers already left, sir. I am his replacement, Homer Simpson.

Mr. Burns: Simpson, eh? Ah yes, I will have my lunch now. A single pillow of shredded wheat, some steamed toast, and a dodo egg.

Homer: But I think the dodo went extinct.

Mr. Burns: Get going! And after lunch install a computer system and rotate my office so the window faces the hills!

Chester: He didn't create Itchy: I did.

Bart: Huh?

Chester: He stole the character from me in 1928. When I complained, his thugs kicked me out of his office, and dropped an anvil on me. Luckily, I was carrying an umbrella at the time.

[Chester and the Simpsons are eating dinner and Chester is staring angrily at Grampa Abe.]

Abe: I thought I recognized you! I gave you a plate of corn muffins back at 1947 to paint my chicken coop, and you never did it!

Chester: Those corn muffins were lousy!

Abe: Paint my chicken coop!

Chester: Make me!

[Abe comes across the table and the old men begin fighting.]

Marge: That does it! One of them has to go!

Homer: Okay, Grampa.

Marge: No, the B-U-M.

Homer: Oh...

Lawyer: Krusty, have you ever seen this so-called "animation genius" before?

Krusty: Yes, I have!

Lawyer: You have?!

Krusty: I gave him a couple of blintzes to paint my fence, BUT HE NEVER DID IT!

Chester: Those blintzes were terrible!

Krusty: PAINT MY FENCE!

Chester: Make me!

Krusty: [charges at Chester and starts punching him] YOU GIVE ME BACK THOSE BLINTZES, THEN!

Snyder: Order, order! We don't care about your blintzes!

[Krusty frowns at Snyder]

[Watching "Amendment To Be", which has replaced "Itchy & Scratchy".]

Bart: What the hell is this?

Lisa: It's one of those campy '70s throwbacks that appeals to Generation X'ers.

Bart: We need another Vietnam to thin out their ranks a little!

Roger Myers, Jr.: Okay, maybe my dad did steal Itchy. But so what? Animation is built on plagiarism. If it weren’t for someone plagiarizing The Honeymooners, we wouldn’t have The Flintstones. If someone hadn’t ripped off Sergeant Bilko, there’d be no Top Cat. Huckleberry Hound, Chief Wiggum (Chief Wiggum stares at Roger Meyers), Yogi Bear, hah! Andy Griffith, Edward G. Robinson, Art Carney. Your Honor, you take away our right to steal ideas, where are they gonna come from? [points to Marge in the galley] Her?

Marge: How about...Ghost Mutt?

TV Announcer: Movie for a Rained-Out Ball Game presents The Muppets Go Medieval. Starring Dyan Cannon and Troy McClure.

Kermit the Frog: Unhand the swine, thee swain!

Miss Piggy: Quiet, frog!

Bart: What's a Muppet?

Homer: [chuckling] Well it's not quite a mop, and it's not quite a puppet, but...to tell the truth, I don't know.

Troy McClure: [as black knight] Oh princess fair, wilst thou grant thee thine dainty hoof in marriage?

Bart: Hey, who is that leathery Muppet?

Marge: He is not a Muppet. That is Troy McClure. Back in the 1970s he was quite the teen heartthrob.

Homer: Troy McClure? That guy's a freak!

Marge: What are you talking about?

Homer: You know, his bizarre personal life. Those weird things they say he does down at the aquarium. Why, I heard--

Marge: Oh, Homer, that's just an urban legend. People don't do that kind of thing with fish!

Louie: Troy McClure?! You said he was dead!

Fat Tony: No, what I said is that he sleeps with the fishes! You see--

Louie: Uh, Tony, please, no. I just ate a whole plate of dingamagoo.

MacArthur Parker: Troy, Mac Parker! Ever hear of... Planet of the Apes?

Troy: Uh, the movie or the planet?

Parker: The brand new multimillion dollar musical. And you are starring... as the human.

Troy: It's the part I was born to play, baby!

Selma: [to Marge] Remember when we were kids, we used to dream about our ideal husbands? Who knew the dream would come true for one of us? [uncomfortable pause] Oh, come on! Guess which one.

Homer: I know! I know! It's Selma, right?

Homer: Doughnut?

Lisa: No, thanks. Do you have any fruit?

Homer: This has purple stuff inside. Purple is a fruit.

Nelson: [in awe] What is this place?

Bart: Branson, Missouri. My dad says it's like Vegas... if it were run by Ned Flanders.

[Homer makes a crank call to Moes]

Homer: Hello, I'd like to speak to with a Mr. Snotball, first name Eura?

Moe: Eura Snotball?

Homer: What?! How dare you?! If I find out who this is, I'll staple a flag to your butt and mail you to Iran!

Homer: [after Lisa tells him about Bart's problem; his face turns a weird shade of red and he is unnervingly calm] Yes... that's a real pickle. Would you excuse me for a moment?

[He turns to the wall, puts on a radiation suit hood and screams out muffled obscenities, then removes the hood and turns to face Lisa, eerily calm again.]

Homer: All right, I have thought this through. I will send Bart the money to fly home, then I will murder him.

Lisa: No! Then he'll know I told!

[Nelson tries to sell Milhouse's glasses in a pawn shop]

Pawnbroker: These lenses are perfect! Now I can re-bottom those antique Coke bottles. [Starts counting money] Three hundred, four hundred, five hundred, six hundred... [A blind Milhouse knocks over the display of Coke bottles and breaks them] ...Five hundred, four hundred, three hundred, two hundred, one hundred, zero!

[Kicks them out of the store]

[Nelson smacks Milhouse for fiddling with the car's radio too much]

Milhouse: OW! Bart, Nelson hit me!

Bart: He sure did.

Sanjay: I wish you'd come to my party, Apu. You could use some merriment.

Apu: Listen, serving the customer is merriment enough for me. :[Bart pays for his gum] Thank you, come again. You see? Most enjoyable.

Sanjay: Oh, I guarantee a wingding of titanic proportions. You will be there or kindly be square.

Apu: Well, I don't like to leave the store... [dusts off a "back in 5 minutes" sign] ...but for the next five minutes I'm going to party like it's on sale for $19.99!

Chairman: Dr. Nick, this malpractice committee has received a few complaints against you. :[reads from clipboard] Of the 160 gravest charges, the most troubling are performing major operations with a knife and fork from a seafood restaurant...

Dr. Nick: But I cleaned them with my napkin.

Chairman: Misuse of the cadavers...

Dr. Nick: I get here earlier when I drive in the carpool lane.

Moe: Say Barn. Uh, remember when I said I had to send away to NASA to calculate your bar tab?

Barney: [laughs] Oh yeah. We all had a good laugh Moe.

Moe: The results came back in. [picks up a huge stack of paper and reads it] "You owe me $70 billion."

Barney: Hmmm?!

Moe: Wait no that was for the Voyager spacecraft. Your tab is $14 billion.

Barney: All's I got is 2,000 bucks.

Moe: Well that's halfway there. [puts the money in the cash register just as Snake bursts through the door]

Snake: Freeze, Dude! Move a muscle and I'll blow this wino's head off!

[Moe heads into a room where he is protected]

Moe: I'm behind 3 inches of bullet-proof glass. Do your worst!

Snake: All right. [opens the cash register and takes Moe's money]

Moe: No! Stay out of there! Oh! Good God! No! [turns on and off the light many times]

Snake: Ho! Goodbye student loan payments! Ha! Ha! [leaves Moe's Tavern]

Moe: Come back here you..! Hey I wonder how much air is in here? [faints]

Chalmers: Well, Seymour I made it. Despite your directions.

Skinner: Ah, Superintendent Chalmers, welcome! I hope you're prepared for an unforgettable luncheon!

Chalmers: Yeah.

[Skinner runs to the kitchen, only to find smoke pouring out of the oven. He gasps in horror, walks over to the oven, and opens it up to see his roast being burnt, but closes the door again.]

Skinner: Oh, egads! My roast is ruined! [glances out the window and notices a Krusty Burger across the street] But what if... I were to purchase fast food and disguise it as my own cooking? Ho, ho, ho, ho. Delightfully devilish, Seymour.

[He opens the windows, takes off his apron, and begins to climb through the window, but is stopped by Chalmers, who enters the kitchen]

Chalmers: Uh... [He then turns cross]

[title shows "Skinner & the Superintendent", and the theme song plays]

Singers: Skinner with his crazy explanations/The Superintendent's gonna need his medication/When he hears Skinner's lame exaggerations/There'll be trouble in town tonight!

Chalmers: [yelling] SEYMOUR!!!

Skinner: Superintendent! I was just, uh, stretching my calves on the windowsill. Isometric exercise! Care to join me?

Chalmers: Why is there smoke coming out of your oven, Seymour?

Skinner: Uh... Oh! That isn't smoke, it's steam! Steam from the steamed clams we're having! Mmm, steamed clams!

[Chalmers walks away from the kitchen]

Skinner: Whoo.

[Skinner climbs out the window and runs to the Krusty Burger, returning with a platter of hamburgers and fries]

Skinner: Superintendent, I hope you're ready for mouth-watering hamburgers!

Chalmers: I thought we were having steamed clams.

Skinner: D'oh, no. I said steamed hams. That's what I call hamburgers.

Chalmers: You call hamburgers 'steamed hams'?

Skinner: Yes. It's a regional dialect.

Chalmers: Uh-huh? Eh, what region?

Skinner: Uh, upstate New York?

Chalmers: Really? Well, I'm from Utica and I've never heard anyone use the phrase 'steamed hams'.

Skinner: Oh, not in Utica, no. It's an Albany expression.

Chalmers: I see.

[Chalmers takes a bite out of a burger and chews a little, while Skinner sips his drink]

Chalmers: You know, these hamburgers are quite similar to the ones they have at Krusty Burger.

Skinner: Ho, ho, ho, ho, no. Patented Skinner Burgers. Old family recipe!

Chalmers: For steamed hams?

Skinner: Yes.

Chalmers: Yes. And you call them steamed hams, despite the fact they are obviously grilled.

[Chalmers removes the top bun of the burger to reveal grill marks on the patty]

Skinner: Y- Uh.. you know the... One thing I should... excuse me for one second.

Chalmers: Of course.

[as Chamlers continues his meal, Skinner walks into the kitchen, inside which orange flames can be briefly made out, and immediately comes back into the dining room with the door opening and closing]

Principal Skinner: [yawning] Well, that was wonderful. Good time was had by all. I'm pooped.

Superintendent Chalmers: Yes, I should be... [catches a glimpse of the fire through the door opening and closing and gasps] Good Lord, what is happening in there?!

Skinner: Aurora Borealis?

Chalmers: [fed up] Uh... Aurora Borealis!? At this time of year, at this time of day, in this part of the country, localized entirely within your kitchen!?

Skinner: [cheerful] Yes!

Chalmers: [pause] May I see it?

Skinner: [pause and cross] No.

[They exit the house. Smoke is pouring out the upstairs windows]

Agnes: Seymour, the house is on fire!

Skinner: No, mother, it's just the Northern Lights.

Chalmers: Well Seymour, you are an odd fellow, but I must say... you steam a good ham.

[Chalmers leaves Skinner's house]

Agnes: Help!!!! HELP!!!!!!

[Chalmers turns around, as Skinner gives a thumbs up]

[Chalmers leaves the scene and Skinner runs back in the house]

[The scene cuts to the firetruck driving towards Skinner's house]

[ Snake stops at a red light and sees Chief Wiggum crossing the street]

Wiggum: Doughnuts, I got doughnuts. I got, hey I know you.

[Snake wrecks his car while trying to run him down, then escapes on foot]

Wiggum: Hey come back, we gotta swap insurance info.

[Apu gets back to the Kwik-E-Mart and unlocks the door]

Hans Moleman: You took away 4 minutes of my life and I want them back. [pauses] Eh, I'd only waste them anyway.

[episode has ended]

Professor Frink: [comes running up holding a sign that says The Tomfoolery of Professor Frink] Uh, ah, uh, sorry I'm late. There was trouble at the lab with the running and the exploding and the crying. One of the monkeys stole the glasses off my head [end credits start] Uh, no wait, please no, please I have a funny story! I even wrote theme music! [sings] Professor Frink, Professor Frink. He'll make you laugh, he'll make you think. He likes to run and then the thing with the... um, person..... Oh boy, that monkey is going to pay.

Bart: Mr. Burns, can you take me with you? I won't eat much and I don't know the difference between right and wrong.

Mr. Burns: Oh, you're a good boy, but the child labor people have been watching me like a hawk.

(After the Brazilian assassin bursts in and opens fire on the retirement home common area)

Jasper: Was that me or was that you?

Martin: Dickety? Highly dubious!

Grampa: What are you cackling at, fatty?! Too much pie, that's your problem!

Mr. Burns: Oh, Simpson, can't you go five seconds without humiliating yourself?

[Grampa's suspenders suddenly snap with a loud "boing!", revealing his underwear]

Grampa: ...How long was that?

Smithers: (dressed as Bart) I'll be in the car, dudes.

[Grampa makes a dangerous deep water dive to rescue Bart from being drowned by Mr. Burns.]

Bart: Sorry I made you lose the treasure, Grampa.

Grampa: The treasure's not important, boy; the most important thing is that you're safe. Now, let's go get that treasure!

[Bart is impressed with Grampa's past heroism.]

Bart: Grampa, do you think I could have been in the Flying Hellfish?

Grampa: You're a give-'em-hell daredevil with a never-say-die attitude and a fourth-grade education. You could've made sergeant!

Grampa: Now, Burnsie, there's one thing we don't stand for in the Hellfish, and that's trying to kill your commanding officer. So consider this your dishonorable discharge: You're out of my unit. You're out of the tontine. And that means the paintings are mine! Private, you are dismissed!

Grandpa: I'd hug you, but I know it would just embarrass you.

Bart: I don't care who knows I love my grandpa.

[They embrace. Suddenly, Baron von Wortzenberger drives up to them]

Baron von Wurtzenberger: Hey funboys, get a room!

Marge: What you're saying is so understandable. And really, your only crime was violating U.S. law.

Homer: Please identify this object.

Apu: It appears to be the flag that disappeared from the public library last year.

Homer: Correct. Now, we all know the thirteen stripes are for good luck, but why does the American flag have precisely forty-seven stars?

Apu: Because this particular flag is [chuckling] ridiculously out of date! The library must have purchased it during the brief period in 1912 after New Mexico became a state but before Arizona did.

Homer: Uh... partial credit.

Proctor: All right, here's your last question. What was the cause of the Civil War?

Apu: Actually, there were numerous causes. Aside from the obvious schism between the abolitionists and the anti-abolitionists, economic factors, both domestic and international played a signi-

Proctor: Hey, hey...

Apu: Yeah.

Proctor: Just, just say slavery.

Apu: Slavery it is, sir.

Homer: Aww, it makes no sense; I haven't changed since high school and all of a sudden I'm uncool.

[1974. Homer and Barney are singing to the tune of Leo Sayer's "You Make Me Feel Like Dancing".]

Homer: [off-key] You make me feel like dancin'!

Barney: [off-key] I wanna dance the night away! [Abraham enters the scene]

Grampa: What the hell are you two doin'?!

Barney: It's called "rocking out"!

Homer: You wouldn't understand, Dad. You're not with it.

Grampa: I used to be "with it". But then they changed what it was! Now what I'm with isn't it, and what's it seems weird and scary to me. [points sinisterly at Homer] It'll happen to you!

[Homer shrugs off Abraham, looks at his reflection in the mirror happily]

Homer: No way, man! We're gonna keep on rockin' forever! Forever! Forever!

[fades to his dejected self in the mirror at present day]

Homer: [dejected] Forever... forever... forever...

Homer: I went to the record store today and they were playing all this music I never heard of. It was like the store had gone crazy!

Marge: Hmm. Record stores have always seemed crazy to me, but it doesn't upset me. Music is none of my business.

Homer: That's fine for you, Marge, but I used to rock and roll all night and party ev-er-y day. Then it was every other day. Now I'm lucky if I can find half an hour a week in which to get funky.

[During one of Homer's freak show performances.]

Teenager #1: Oh look, there's that cannonball guy. He's cool.

Teenager #2: Are you being sarcastic, dude?

Teenager #1: [after a pause] I don't even know any more...

[Homer informs Marge he want to join the Pageant of the Transmundane.]

Marge: So... you want to go on tour with a traveling freak show.

Homer: I don't think I have a choice, Marge.

Marge: Of course you have a choice.

Homer: How do you figure?

Marge: You don't have to join a freak show just because the opportunity came along. [Homer pauses for a beat]

Homer: You know, Marge, in some ways, you and I are very different people.

[Backstage at the Springfield Hullabalooza show, a backstage assistant enters with a group of musicians in tow.]

Backstage Assistant: May I have your attention please! Who here ordered the London Symphony Orchestra? I repeat, someone here ordered the London Symphony Orchestra! Possibly while high!! Cypress Hill, I'm looking in your direction!!!

[The Cypress Hill members talk among themselves for a bit.]

B-Real: Uh, yeah, I think we did...um, do you guys know "Insane in the Brain"?

Orchestra Player: We mostly know classical... but we could give it a shot.

[The track drops for "Insane In The Brain", and Cypress Hill dances as the symphony orchestra starts to play its own interpretation.]

Marge: Now, this, I like.

Marge: Well, did you call one of your friends?

Lisa: Friends? Hah! These are my only friends. Grown up nerds like Gore Vidal, and even he's kissed more boys than I ever will.

Marge: Girls, Lisa. Boys kiss girls.

Erin: So, you like hanging out?

Lisa: Well, it beats doin' stuff.

Erin: Totally. Stuff sucks.

[Homer walks up to the counter in a convenience store.]

Homer: Yeah, um, give me one of those porno magazines, a large box of condoms, a bottle of Old Harper, a box of panty shields... [rapid undertone] and some illegal fireworks... [normal voice] and one of those disposable enemas. You know what? Make it two.

Clerk: My apologies, sir, but the sale of fireworks is strictly prohibited in this state and is punishable by a— [sees the only other customer in the store walk out the door] follow me.

[Homer follows the store clerk to his secret stash of illegal fireworks]

Clerk: Any red-blooded, flag-fearing American would love... the M-320. Celebrate the independence of your nation by blowing up a small part of it.

Homer: All right.

[Lisa is eating in the kitchen and Marge is in the background. Bart enters]

Bart: Hey Lis. [sits beside her] I guess my little yearbook stunt was pretty rough but it did teach you a lesson. It's important to be yourself. [Marge leaves]

Lisa: [Grabs Bart by his shirt and whispers to him] I know exactly who I am. I am the sister of a rotten, jealous, mean, little sneak! [grabs a syrup bottle] You cost me my only friends! [holds the bottle on top of Bart's head, threatening him] You've ruined my life! [squeezes the bottle, but Marge re-enters the room. Lisa starts eating again and Bart looks at Lisa scared]

Marge: Hey kids! there's a carnival tonight!

Milhouse: [appears from behind a cereal box] Oh boy, a carnival!

[Marge is looking through the grocery bag filled with embarrassing hygiene and sexual products Homer bought at the convenience store.]

Marge: Ew, Homer. Whatever you're planning for tonight, count me out. Didn't you buy any meat?

Homer: [patting the giant firework] Hee, hee, hee! This baby's sure to kill somethin'!

Bart: This is the worst Fourth of July ever. I hate America!

[After Lisa finds out that the beach kids decorated the family car with seashells.]

Homer: SWEET, MERCIFUL CRAP! My car!

The Simpsons/Season 7

Attack of the 50 Foot Eyesores

Nightmare on Evergreen Terrace

Homer3 (Homer Cubed)

Wikiwand in your browser!

The Simpsons/Season 7

Attack of the 50 Foot Eyesores

Nightmare on Evergreen Terrace

Homer3 (Homer Cubed)

Wikiwand in your browser!

Who Shot Mr. Burns? (Part Two)

Radioactive Man

Home Sweet Homediddly-Dum-Doodily

Bart Sells His Soul

Lisa the Vegetarian

Treehouse of Horror VI

King-Size Homer

Mother Simpson

Sideshow Bob's Last Gleaming

The Simpsons 138th Episode Spectacular

Marge Be Not Proud

Team Homer

Two Bad Neighbors

Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield

Bart the Fink

Lisa the Iconoclast

Homer the Smithers

The Day the Violence Died

A Fish Called Selma

Bart on the Road

22 Short Films About Springfield

Raging Abe Simpson and His Grumbling Grandson in "The Curse of the Flying Hellfish"

Much Apu About Nothing

Homerpalooza

Summer of 4 Ft. 2

External links