Movie Trivia

Hapablap: Bob is not here. We have searched every square inch of this base and all we have found is porno, porno, porno! Quimby: We have only twenty minutes left. Send in the esteemed representatives of television. [Kent Brockman, Chesperito, Krusty and two others file in] [Krusty sees the magazines on the table] Krusty: Hey, hey! Now this is my kind of meeting! Quimby: Gentlemen, it's time we face up to the un-face-up-to-able. We must sacrifice television in order to save the lives of our townspeople. Krusty: Whoa! Whoa-ho-ho! Let's not go nuts. Would it _really_ be worth living in a world without television? I think the survivors would envy the dead! [pause] Quimby: I appreciate your passion on behalf of your medium. But I'm afraid we are out of options. Television must go. May God have mercy on our souls...

— Prayer to a vengeful God, "Sideshow Bob's Last Gleaming"

Brockman: [on air] And as my final newscast draws to a close, I'm reminded of a few of the events that brought me closer to you: the collapse of the Soviet Union, premium ice cream price wars, dogs that were mistakenly issued major credit cards, and others who weren't so lucky. And so, farewell. Uh, and don't forget to look for my new column in PC World magazine. Chesperito: [on air] Muchas gracias, Amigos, por tolas las memorias. Y super gracias a Goya. Bob: Success! They're giving in. Blast! I should've made more demands. Some decent local marmalade for one. Oh well, next time.

— Assuming there _is_ one, "Sideshow Bob's Last Gleaming"

Krusty: Aaah! Not my extendo-glove! They haven't made those since the war. Oh, not my Paris backdrop! How am I going to make fun of the Frogs!? Wait...if I could only stay on the air, I'd have 100\% of the audience. Think of the ratings!

— A plan in the clownish mind, "Sideshow Bob's Last Gleaming"

Homer: OK, so we can't go over the fence. Marge: I feel so helpless. What if something happens to them? Homer: I'm sure they're fine, honey. Marge: Well, at least they're wearing clean underwear. [cut to Bart's bed at home, where his underwear is still laid out] [inside the base] Bart: Free and easy, Lis...aaah. There's nothing like an unfurnished basement for pure comfort. Lisa: Huh? Hurry up, Mom and Dad are probably worried sick.

— More tenets of the Bart philosophy, "Sideshow Bob's Last Gleaming"

Hapablap: You know what really frosts my Kelvinator? That friutcup's probably still laughing at us from his damn hidey-hole. Aide: I'd rather take an order from Bill Clinton then hear that guy's snooty, high-toned voice again, Sir!

— "Sideshow Bob's Last Gleaming"

Lisa: High-toned voice...Bart, that's it! I know where Sideshow Bob is hiding! [they start running] When Bob broadcast that message, his voice was higher then normal. And what makes your voice high? Bart: Tight, binding underwear? Lisa: Helium! Sideshow Bob is in the Duff blimp!

— Well, they're both right, "Sideshow Bob's Last Gleaming"

Bob: [high-pitched] All Springfield trembles before the might of Sideshow Bob! Blasted helium! Shoo...shoo...shoo. [normal voice] Ha ha, that's better! [turns channels on the TV and sees only static] Gone. [click] Gone too. [click] Fabulous. [click] Marvelous. [click] [the Emergency Broadcast System logo appears] [Bob begins to walk away until he hears Krusty's voice] Announcer: This is the Emergency Broadcast System. Stand by for an urgent bulletin. Krusty: [on TV] Hey Hey! [laughs] Krusty the Clown is back on the air! Eight...no no, _twelve_ hours of day. The only game in town! Bob: Krusty! But how?! Krusty: I'm comin' at you live from the civil defense shack in the remote Alkali Flats of the Springfield Badlands! I'll be beaming out eleven watts of wackiness! Hour after hour of unscripted, unrehearsed comedy. Featuring...uh...uh... Professor Gas Can! And, uh, [grabs photo] former President Ike Eisenhower! [imitative] Let's get busy! Bob: Oh, my utopia lies in ruins! How naive of me to think a mere atom bomb could fell the chattering cyclops!

— TV, almighty, "Sideshow Bob's Last Gleaming"

Bob: Well, at least I'll have my revenge! Bart: Bob, no! Lisa: Don't you see? That would be taking the easy way out. Bob: I agree. [presses the button]

— Thinks that make you go "Boom!", "Sideshow Bob's Last Gleaming"

Bob: [reading from the bomb casing] "Best before November 1959." Dammit, Bob. There were plenty of brand new bombs, but you had to go for that retro 50s charm. [to kids] Well, if it isn't my arch nemesis, Bart Simpson. And his sister Lisa to whom I'm fairly indifferent. Bart: So, Krusty double crossed you. But your basic plan was pure genius. Where do you get your ideas? Bob: Oh please. [brandishing a knife from hand to hand] Let's not embarrass us both with that hoary old "stall the villain with flattery" scheme.

— The unwritten dignity code for showdowns, "Sideshow Bob's Last Gleaming"

Bart: I...should have known you were too smart to fall for that. Bob: Really? What type of smart? Book smart? Because there are a lot of people who are book smart but it takes a special type of genius to -- Wiggum: All right Bob, it's over! Come out with your hands up. Bob: No! How did they find me? [electronic sign on side blimp flashes, "HELP! SIDESHOW BOB IS INSIDE! HIS BOMB WAS A DUD. THANK YOU. LISA SIMPSON."]

— A certain plucky eight-year-old, is how, "Sideshow Bob's Last Gleaming"

Lisa: He's getting away! [gets covered by the blimp] Hapablap: Oh...not the Harrier! We've got a war tomorrow. Bob: [sees control panel with two buttons, STOP and FLY] God bless the idiot-proof Air Force.

— Oh, he'll bless them, all right, "Sideshow Bob's Last Gleaming"

Guard: They're gone! Hapablap: Hell...not the Wright Brothers plane! The Smithsonian's gonna have my ass on a platter.

— Bob makes his escape, "Sideshow Bob's Last Gleaming"

Bart: Dad! Help! Marge: [screams] Ahh! Homer: Hang on, Boy! Daddy's coming to save you! [rolls over the tire trap and blows all the tires] D'oh! Lisa: Mom! I found Sideshow Bob's hideout and I got a secret message to the police and I had a blimp fall on me and I was in an atomic blast but I'm OK now! Homer: Well, I wrecked the gate, but you don't hear me bragging. Now let's roll!

— How easily the young thrill, "Sideshow Bob's Last Gleaming"

Bob: Aah, for the days when aviation was a gentleman's pursuit -- back before every Joe Sweatsock could wedge himself behind a lunch tray and jet off to Raleigh-Durham. Bart: [spitting] Are you getting lots of bugs in your mouth too? Bob: [pause] Yes. [spits]

— Ew, bugs, "Sideshow Bob's Last Gleaming"

Intercom: Prepare to engage enemy. [the jets speed past] Bogey's air speed not sufficient for intercept. Suggest we get out and walk.

— The air force guys in hot pursuit, "Sideshow Bob's Last Gleaming"

Homer: Now you Boy! Bart: [scared] Oh. [plane approaches cops standing on their cars] You can't escape Bob. If the tennis rackets don't get you, the pool skimmers will. Bob: Ooh, I never planned to escape. You see, this is a kamikaze mission! You and I are going to kill Krusty the Clown! Hah hah hah!

— The final diabolical plan revealed, "Sideshow Bob's Last Gleaming"

Krusty: Kids...Itchy and Scratchy can't be here today. But instead, we've got the next best thing! It's the Stingy and Battery show! They bite. And light. And bite and light and...yatta, yatta, you know what I'm talking about. Bart: You can't kill Krusty: he made you what you are. Without him, you wouldn't even be called Sideshow! Bob: Grrrr. Krusty: [hears noise, stops singing] What the hell is that, a lawnmower? [looks out window, sees plane] Yiaaah! Bart: Get out of the way, Krusty!

— Portrait of a clown's mortality, "Sideshow Bob's Last Gleaming"

Krusty: What is the freaking holdup? Bob: Die, Krusty, Die!

— Slow-motion kamikaze, "Sideshow Bob's Last Gleaming"

Soldier: Ooh, sorry. We don't normally drive these in the Air Force. Wiggum: [cuffing Bob] Got ya, ha ha, you...TV-hating mutant! Hapablap: What is your major malfunction, Sideshow Bob? Marge: [kisses Bart] My little sugar bug! [kisses] I'm so glad you're safe! Bart: But -- but -- but -- Mom! You're embarrassing me in front of the Army guys! Bob: How ironic. My crusade against television has come to end so formulaic, it could have spewed from the PowerBook of the laziest Hollywood hack.

— _Could_ have..., "Sideshow Bob's Last Gleaming"

Grampa: Hey everybody, I'm gonna haul ass to Lollapalooza! Family: Here we go again!

— More PowerBook Puke, "Sideshow Bob's Last Gleaming"

Announcer 1: Live, from the famous brown sands of Public Beach, Delaware, it's the Grand Nationals of Sand Castle Building preview. Homer: [whining] Ohh, Saturday afternoon TV is so boring. Announcer 2: Bikini girls... Homer: [brightening at picture] Huh? Announcer 2: Dune buggies... Homer: [brighter] Hmm! Announcer 2: Daredevil surfers... Homer: [gasps] Announcer 2: Ordinarily, this beach would be swarming with 'em. But not today, ho ho, no. They've all been cleared out to make way for painstaking sand preparation. Announcer 1: That's right, Dick. You know, this year, everyone's abuzz about one thing: the absence of Mark Rodkin. Announcer 2: [looking to his left] Oh, wait. There he is.

— No doubt a Fox network special, "Two Bad Neighbors"

Homer: [yawns] Marge, I'm bored. Marge: Why don't you read something? Homer: Because I'm trying to _reduce_ my boredom. Marge: Well, you could hand out these flyers for the neighborhood rummage sale. You'd get some fresh air and exercise. Homer: Ehh, I'll do it anyway. [grabs Bart] Come on, Boy: we're going to see the neighbors!

— Bart, unwitting accomplice, "Two Bad Neighbors"

Homer: Good old Evergreen Terrace: the swankiest street in the classiest part of Pressboard Estates. Bart: Well if you love it so much, why are you always littering? Homer: [finishing a canned drink] It's easier, duh. [litters]

— Homer contributes to urban blight, "Two Bad Neighbors"

Apu: [singing along badly] The Dream Police, they live inside of my bed, The Dream Police, they come to me in my head, The Dream Police, they're going to direct me now, Oh nooo... [Bart and Homer walk up] Howdy, neighbors! May I spray you with the hose in a playful fashion? Homer: Uh...spray the boy. [Apu does so] Well! Ready for the big rummage sale? Apu: Oh, yes, indeed. I've got nothing but time until they fix that malfunctioning Squishee machine. [the Kwik-E-Mart is filled with green liquid] [two scuba divers operate a blow torch in front of the machine] [Jimbo swims in and pilfers two six packs from the freezer]

— There's nothing some people won't do, "Two Bad Neighbors"

Homer: Hey! I never noticed _this_ place. Bart: Dad, it's right across the street from us! That fancy house'll never sell. Nobody who could afford it would want to live in _this_ neighborhood. Homer: Hey, what's wrong with this neighborhood? [at the house] Big shot! Too good to buy a house here, snobby? Bart: Who are you talking to, Homer? Homer: The guy who doesn't live there.

— Well, duh, "Two Bad Neighbors"

Marge: Can we get rid of this Ayatollah T-shirt? Khomeini died years ago. Homer: But, Marge! It works on _any_ Ayatollah: Ayatollah Nakhbadeh, Ayatollah Zahedi...even as we speak, Ayatollah Razmada and his cadre of fanatics are consolidating their power. Marge: I don't care _who's_ consolidating their power. [holds up something else] Well, we don't need _this_. Homer: [sputters] Marge! That's the Rhinestone Nights Fashion Gun. I need it to rhinestone up my old clothing. [holds up a jacket] Marge: [reading it] Who's "Disco Stu"? Homer: Oh, er, I wanted to write "Disco Stud" but I ran out of space -- {not that Disco Stu didn't get his share of the action...}

— Preparations for the rummage sale, "Two Bad Neighbors"

Ned: So, if you're looking for a half-bag of charcoal briquettes or an artificial Christmas tree (trunk only), come on over to the Hibbert table, pronto! Well, sir, looks like we've got some nice items at table Glick...like this! What the heckaroony is this, Mrs. Glick? Mrs. Glick: [into the mike] It is a candy dish, Ned. $90. Ned: Uh huh. Well, I -- uh, I guess you could put a lot of nice things in there -- Mrs. Glick: No! Just candy, Ned. $90.

— Perhaps it's from the Ming Dynasty?, "Two Bad Neighbors"

Marge: Are you interesting in that motorized tie rack, Principal Skinner? [turns it on] Skinner: Hmm. It's awfully loud. Marge: Well, you can always take the motor out and use it as an ordinary tie rack. [does so] Skinner: [scoffs] But now the ties are motionless, and those in back are virtually inaccessible. Well, it's a moot point, as I have only one tie to begin with. I believe I'll pass. [walks off] [pops head back] Have you sold that tie rack yet? Marge: No. Skinner: I'll take it.

— Spanky can't pass up a bargain, "Two Bad Neighbors"

Ned: Now, folks, nothing spells "fun" like rhinestones on a dungaree jacket! [holds up "Disco Stu" jacket] Man: Stu! You should buy that! Stu: Hey: Disco Stu doesn't advertise. Homer: Uh, hey, Ned, let me help you with that. [grabs mike] Hey, everybody! Who thinks Flanders should shut up? [everyone cheers; Ned looks worried] So, anyone here from Evergreen Terrace? [everyone cheers] I think this is the best neighborhood in town! Anybody agree with me? [everyone cheers] Carl: Yeah, you're the king, Homer! Wiggum: King of the neighborhood! Homer: [holding up T-shirt] Say, that Ayatollah thinks he's better than America. Is he right? ["No! Boo!" etc., except one man says "Yes..."] Well, for only $5, you could sock it to him in style! Moe: Right here! [pays; gets shirt] Homer: And, for the man who has everything, a tie rack motor! Skinner: I'll take that.

— Hidden emcee talent, "Two Bad Neighbors"

Homer: [singing] Hey, big spender: dig this blender! Rainbow suspenders -- hey, big spender! Everyone: We surrender! Homer: Speeend some dough at table three. [everyone cheers and holds up money] [a moving truck pulls up, and everyone turns to look] Homer: Thank you, neighbors! Thank you. Now, let's give it up for table five! [singing] Ah, ah, ah, ah, Table Five, Table Five, [Disco Stu starts dancing] Ah, ah, ah, ah, Table Fiiiive -- [Wiggum runs off to watch the movers] Table five -- [spoken] Hey, what's the big deal? It's just some guy moving in. Stu: Ahem. Disco Stu likes disco music.

— The show must go on, "Two Bad Neighbors"

George: Hi there, neighbors. Uh, I'm...George Bush. [everyone stares] Former _president_ George Bush? Everyone: Oh, OK! etc. [mild applause] Homer: OK, let's give it up for the new guy. Now, let's all turn around and pay attention to me again. {Hello? Hello? Hello!}

— The new kid in town, "Two Bad Neighbors"

Bart: Wow, a former president living right across the street. Homer: Oh, why did he have to move in on _my_ territory? Look at him. Thinks just because he led the free world, he can act like a big shot! Stupid President...why couldn't he just stay in his own state? Lisa: Actually, this _is_ one of the nine states where Mr. Bush claims residency, Dad. I wouldn't have voted for him, but it's nice to have a celebrity in the neighborhood. Homer: {Wait a minute...if _Lisa_ didn't vote for him...and _I_ didn't vote for him --} Marge: {You didn't vote for anybody.} Homer: {I voted for Prell to go back to the old glass bottle. After that, I became deeply cynical.}

— A rare glimpse of Homer, member of the electorate, "Two Bad Neighbors"

Ray: [scrutinizing Ned's license] And your business here, Mr. Flanders? Ned: Well, sir, I'm welcoming the Bushes on behalf of the Neighborhood Association. George: [hammering "The Bushes" sign] Never mind about that, Ray. Just give them a quick pass with the metal detector and let 'em on in. Hey, Bar! The neighbors are here.

— The formalities of ex-presidential visitations, "Two Bad Neighbors"

Ned: Howdily doodily, there, President Bush -- or should I say, "President Neighbor"! I'm Ned Flanders, and this is Maude, Rod, and Todd. George: Well, howdily doodily yourself, there, Ned. This is my wife Barbara. I call her Bar. Would you like some lemonade? Ned: Tip top notch! George: Okily dokily. [hands Ned some] Ned: Thankily dankily! [they both drink] Great-ilicious! George: Scrump-diddley-eriffic! Both: Fine and dandy like sour candy! George: Bar's a whiz with cold drinks, aren't you, Bar? Don't understand lemonade myself -- not my forte...

— Not a George of all trades, "Two Bad Neighbors"

Maude: What brings you to Springfield? Barbara: Well, George and I just wanted to be private citizens again -- go where nobody cared about politics. So we found the town with the lowest voter turnout in America. George: Just happy to be here among good, average people with no particular hopes or dreams. Rod: But, Mr. President, we're not all good people. Todd: There's one little boy you should watch out for. He's a bad, _bad_ little boy. Ned: [nervous laugh] Now Todd, don't _scare_ the president. [Bart skateboards by as evil music plays]

— Bart, worse than Gabbo?, "Two Bad Neighbors"

Homer: Huh. Look at those phonies, sucking up to Bush. [SLH barks and runs off after them] {I guess you might say he's barking up the wrong Bush. [laughs]} Homer's Brain: {There it is, Homer: the cleverest thing you'll ever say and nobody heard it.} Homer: {D'oh!}

— The solitary comedian, "Two Bad Neighbors"

George: [sighs] Just going to relax with my "U.S. News and World Whatnot". [opens magazine] Oh, good: they're roasting the new guy. Bart: [in the style of Dennis the Menace] Hello, Mr. Bush! Barbara: George, this is a neighborhood boy, Bart Simpson. He came over to say hi. George: [unimpressed] Hello. Bart: Hi. Hey, what's this? George: My electric card shuffler. Don't go near that -- [Bart plays with it, and cards fly] Now, I _told_ you...oh, those cards are from Air Force One, and they only give you so many packs! Barbara: Oh, George, boys will be boys. Bart's just being friendly. Why don't you get off that sofa and show Bart your photos? George: Oh, but he'll gunk 'em all up. His hands are probably covered with mud and cookies. [Bart shows his clean hands] Oh, he probably stole a napkin.

— No student of Occam, Bush, "Two Bad Neighbors"

Bart: Who's that, George? George: That's me with Charlton Heston. He was -- Bart: Who's that, George? George: Er -- see, you wouldn't know him. That's Bob Mosbacher. He was secretary of -- Bart: That's a dumb name. Who's that, George? George: Maybe _he_ thinks "Bart" is a dumb -- Bart: How many times were _you_ president, George? George: {Just once. Bar! Is it time for dinner yet?} Barbara: {[off-camera] I'm making rice! It'll be a while.} Bart: {Did your Secret Service goons ever whack anyone, George?} George: [indignant] You know, in my day, little boys didn't call their elders by their first name. Bart: Yeah? Well, welcome to the 20th century, _George_. George: {[muttering] I'll kick you right out of the 20th century,} you little --

— Bush meets his ten-year-old match, "Two Bad Neighbors"

Homer: Oh, man: I've only got one minute 'till they stop serving those breakfast balls! [stops behind Bush at the drive thru] George: Let's see, now...what do you folks have here, huh? Hmm, a "Krusty Burger"...that doesn't sound too appetizing. What kind of stew do you have today? Kid: [through order box] Uh...we don't have stew. [Homer honks impatiently] Ray: Sir, why don't you just have the cheeseburger? George: Aw, that's really more of a weekend thing, Ray. Homer: Hey, jerk! Move your fanny! George: That guy's louder than World War II. Ray, go see what the rhubarb is, will you? [Ray goes back toward Homer's car] Ray: Sir, could you pop your hood? [Homer does so; Ray disables the horn] Homer: Hey: my taxes paid for that horn!

— George Bush does the drive thru, "Two Bad Neighbors"

Bart: Why, hello, Mrs. Bush! Barbara: Hi, Bart! Mr. Bush is upstairs napping. Bart: You know, your husband's awful grumpy. Barbara: Oh, that's just his way; he really likes you. You know, it's time for him to get up and work on his memoirs. Why don't you go wake him? [a loud horn note blasts] George: [waking suddenly] Great Scot, don't touch that! That's the alpenhorn Helmut Kohl gave me. Bart: [dropping it] Where'd you get those pyjamas? George: They're presidential pyjamas. You have to be President, and you're not President! Bart: Yes I am. George: [stammers] No, you're not! [calls out] Bar!

— George Bush, tattletale, "Two Bad Neighbors"

Bart: Hey, where's your candy? George: We don't have any. Now go away! Barbara: George! Older people don't eat much candy, Bart, but I could bake you some cookies if you like. George: [scoffs] Can't remember the last time she made cookies for _me_. Barbara: What's that? George: Oh, nothing.

— Sparing the rod, "Two Bad Neighbors"

Homer: All right, his story checks out. Marge, would you love me more if I were President? 'Cause I'll do it if it'll make you happy. Marge: Homey, as long as you keep the car full of gas, I'm happy. [kisses him] Homer: Well, you can always depend on that. [looks furtively out the window at the car]

— Most of the time, anyway, "Two Bad Neighbors"

George: [typing] And since I'd achieved all my goals as President in one term, there was no need for a second. The end. Hmm, good memoirs. Good, not great. Now, let's look at that old outboard -- soup that baby up, rattle a few windows down Kennebunkport next May. [chuckles] Bart: Hello, Mr. Bush! [skateboards in, knocking a sheet from the memoirs loose] Whatcha doin'? George: Now, don't upset the desk there -- careful! Don't want to horse around with -- Bart: [spying outboard] Hey, cool! What does this do? George: Now don't you pull that cord, young man -- [Bart pulls it anyway; the motor runs around the room] No! Hey -- Bar! My motor's gone loco! [crash!] Ohh, the birdhouse. My prize orchids! [the motor stops; Bart taps it and it starts up again] [it stops once again; a lightbulb falls on it and it restarts] No, not the memoirs. Don't even think about it. Not going to happen -- [he can't prevent it from happening] Bart: Whoa, man. George: Whoa, nothing. I'm going to do something your daddy should have done a long time ago. [takes Bart over his knee and spanks him] Now go home and think about what you've done, young man!

— Let that be a lesson to you, "Two Bad Neighbors"

Homer: He _spanked_ you? _You_? Bart Simpson? Bart: I begged him to stop, but he said it was for the good of the nation. Abe: Big deal! When I was a pup, we got spanked by Presidents till the cows came home. Grover Cleveland spanked me on two nonconsecutive occasions. Marge: Grampa, I know in your day, spanking was common, but Homer and I just don't believe in that kind of punishment. Abe: And that's why your no-good kids are running wild! [points at Lisa, reading quietly]

— A counterexample to the theory, "Two Bad Neighbors"

Homer: First Bush invades my home turf, then he takes my pals, then he makes fun of the way I talk -- probably. Now he steals my right to raise a disobedient, smart-alecky son! Well, that's it! [walks across the street] Hey, Bush! Get out here! Ray: Excuse me, Sir: where are you going? Homer: I'm going to punch George Bush in the face. Ray: OK. Is he expecting you?

— Just doing his job, "Two Bad Neighbors"

Homer: Hey! You owe me an apology. George: You owe _me_ an apology. If you were any kind of a father, you'd have disciplined that boy a long time ago. Ray: You want to step back, Sir? You're trampling the flowers. Homer: Ooh! Hiding behind your goons, eh, Bush? Well _you_ are a _wimp_! George: [with trembling lips] Wimp, am I? Agent Johnson, Agent Heintz, you men stand down. [the gate opens and Homer walks in] All right, Mister: you want trouble? You're going to get trouble. Homer: Oh, I want trouble, all right. George: Then you're going to get trouble. Homer: No, _you're_ going to get trouble. George: Oh, that's good, that's good, 'cause I _want_ trouble. Homer: Then we're agreed there'll be trouble. George: Oh, yeah, lots of trouble. Homer: Trouble it is. George: For you. [walks inside, slams door] Homer: For -- d'oh!

— Bubble, bubble, "Two Bad Neighbors"

Homer: [chuckles] This is going to be sweet. Two hundred bottle rockets and George Bush doing toe touches by an open window! Bart: You get one up his butt, it's a million points. [Homer flicks a lighter] [fireworks erupt outside the Bushes] Barbara: [yawns] Why don't you just say you're sorry, George? George: Because I'm right! Oh, no, I'm going to fix their wagon good. I've pulled some pranks in my time...[shakes spray paint] ["Two bad neighbors" banner hangs from his house next day] Hibbert: I don't understand. Are you saying you and Barbara are bad neighbors? George: No! That's not Bar and me, it's them! Ned: Who, Maude and me? George: No, the man and his boy. You know, the -- the boy is named Bart. I don't know the name of the man. Bar! What's the name of the man? Barbara: [off-camera] I'm not getting involved, George. George: Look, just never mind. I thought the banner was pretty straightforward, but I'll just take it down.

— Misunderstood, "Two Bad Neighbors"

Marge: President Bush is driving on our lawn! He must be lost. Homer: [threatening] He's not lost. Bart: Looks like we're experiencing some blowback from the wig offensive. Homer: It's time to hit him where he lives. Bart: His house? Homer: Bingo. [walks off] [later, he and Bart walk through the sewer] So I thought to myself, "What would God do in this situation?" Bart: [chuckles] Locusts! [holds box] They'll drive him _nuts_. Homer: It's all in the Bible, son: it's the prankster's bible. [Bush grinds the wheels into the ground and gets out] George: Hmm. Can't decide if this'll be considered feisty, or crazy.

— I'm voting for the latter, "Two Bad Neighbors"

George: Hey, turkeys! Behind you. [Bart and Homer turn around] Homer: For the last time, Bush, apologize for spanking my boy! George: Never! You make him apologize for destroying my memoirs. Homer: You didn't tell me you destroyed his memoirs... [to Bush] Never! [charges him]

— The clear boundary between right and wrong, "Two Bad Neighbors"

Barbara: I really feel awful about your lawn, Marge. George can be so stubborn when he thinks he's right. Marge: Well, Homer, too. They're so much alike. Barbara: Too bad they got off on the wrong foot. It's just like the Noriega thing. Now, he and George are the best of friends.

— Bygones, "Two Bad Neighbors"

George: I'm sorry I spanked your boy, Homer. Homer: Woo hoo! In your face, Bush. Now apologize for the tax hike.

— Giving him an inch..., "Two Bad Neighbors"

Gerry: Hi! Pleased to meet you, I just moved in. My name is Gerry Ford. Homer: [gasps] Former President Gerald Ford? Put her there! I'm Homer Simpson! Gerry: Say, Homer, do you like football? Homer: Do I ever! Gerry: Do you like nachos? Homer: Yes, Mr. Ford. Gerry: Well, why don't you come over and watch the game, and we'll have nachos? And then, some beer. Homer: Ooh! [they walk across the street] Gerry, I think you and I are going to get along just -- [they both trip] Both: D'oh!

— Homer's rumpy doppelganger, "Two Bad Neighbors"

Bart: My God: the Mad Magazine Special Edition! They only put out seventeen of these a year! [grabs it] Milhouse: Boy, they're really socking it to that Spiro Agnew guy. He must work there or something. Bart: Let's do the Fold-In. Milhouse: OK. [the Fold-In will clearly become a green dollar sign] [reading] "What higher power do TV evangelists worship?" Bart: I'll say God. Milhouse: I'll say Jesus. [they fold it in] Both: "The Almighty Dollar"?! Owner: You fold it, you bought it.

— The penalty for defacing the Mad Fold-In, "Team Homer"

Homer: Ooh, "Snappy Answers to Stupid Questions"! I'm great at these. Ask me if something smells funny in here, Boy. Bart: Does something smell funny in here? Homer: I don't think so...stupid! [laughs to self] Marge: [walking in] Homey, you want pork chops? Homer: No, I want roast beef, you clod! [laughs some more] Bart: Look at this: "Special Insert: Iron-On Mad-Ness!" [reads iron-ons] "Ban the Bath"..."Don't Trust Anyone Over Ten"..."Sock It To Me!" [laughs to self] Marge: Hmm. Those magazines create a dangerous amount of laughter. Homer: [trying to do Fold-In] "The Al-ighty -ollar?" [laughs] Oh, I get it!

— The bastion of magazine humor, "Team Homer"

Moe: Gee, business stinks tonight. Where's Barney, Lenny, and Carl? Homer: Aw, they never come around any more now that they've got their _mistresses_. Moe: [sighs] Might as well close the dump. [outside, Quimby leads a bunch of people toward the bar] Quimby: I am going to drink you under the table. Man: No, I am going to drink _you_ under the -- [the "Moe's" lighted sign turns off] [the crowd sighs and turns back] Homer: [yawns] Well, you're closing, it's getting late, my kids are probably wondering where their dad is... [grabs Moe, implores] There's got to be some other place we can go. Thank, Moe, think!

— Staying away from the loving wife and children, "Team Homer"

Kid: Sorry, it's league night. I couldn't give a lane to my own mother. Doris: [walking by] I have no son. [walks off]

— Even if she disowns me, "Team Homer"

Moe: Man! You go through life, you try to be nice to people, you struggle to resist the urge to punch in the face, and for what? For some pimply little _puke_ to treat like dirt unless you're on a _team_. 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. Apu: That I cannot bowl wreaks havoc with my self-esteem as well, but who am I to complain? Homer: Well, I'm tired of being a wannabe league bowler. I wanna be a league bowler!

— The grand aspiration, "Team Homer"

Homer: Hey! We could be a team... [at the counter] Excuse me, but my _team_ is ready to bowl. Kid: You're short one person. Homer: [seeing Otto] Uh, that longhaired freak's bowled with us for years. Otto: [at a prize machine] Ooh, I don't care if it takes me all night: I'm going to get me that lobster harmonica. Come on, lobstey --! [it drops of the claws] Kid: OK. Then I just need your $500 registration fee. Homer: $500?! [quickly subdued] Oh, no problem. Will you take an out- of-state two party bad check?

— Not on his mother's grave, "Team Homer"

Marge: No, I will _not_ pay you $500 for sex! Homer: Aw, come on, Marge! You're getting something in return, and I'm getting a bowling team. It's win-win! Marge: It's sick! And I don't have that kind of money to spend on sex. Maybe you could get someone with money to sponsor your team. Homer: [scoffs] Burns never gives money to anybody. Just last week I asked him for $1,500. Marge: For what? Homer: Oh, I gotta get the third degree from you too?

— Beset on all sides, "Team Homer"

Edna: Tonight's homework assignment is -- Bart: [exaggerated] Oh, man: is it hot in here. I'd better take off my sweater. Edna: [reading his T-shirt] "Down...with...[gasps] homework"?! [the class starts laughing] Don't look at it, children. [she stands in front of him] Milhouse: His shirt makes a good point. Nelson: I'm with the shirt: homework rots. Everyone: Down with homework! Down with homework! [they throw their books out the windows] [some kids try to suffocate Edna with chalk dust] [Ralph sits on the floor, eating paste] [some boys tip Edna's desk over, setting it alight]

— How riots are born, "Team Homer"

Skinner: As I was saying, my yearly evaluation couldn't have come at a better time. Chalmers: Well, Seymour, I must say for once, I am impressed. In fact, I am going to give this school a perfect ten. [lifts clipboard] I'll just write the zero first...now, a vertical line to indicate the one -- Everyone: [running out] Down with homework! [Chalmers gets trampled to the ground] Chalmers: Skinner! Why are children walking on my head? [Skinner fishes Bart out of the stampede]

— The answer: this ten-year-old, "Team Homer"

Skinner: So: we meet again, Mad Magazine. Bart: How do you know it's from Mad? Skinner: [walking to his window] The year was 1968. We were on recon in a steaming Mekong delta. An overheated private removed his flak jacket, revealing a T-shirt with an iron-on sporting the Mad slogan "Up With Mini-Skirts". Well, we all had a good laugh, even though I didn't quite understand it. But our momentary lapse of concentration allowed Charlie to get the drop on us. I spent the next three years in a POW camp, forced to subsist on a thin stew of fish, vegetables, prawns, coconut milk, and four kinds of rice. I came close to madness trying to find it here in the States, but they just can't get the spices right -- Bart: Uh, my punishment? Skinner: Hmm? Oh, I'm going to have to think about that. Meanwhile, wear this home. [puts a seat pillow over Bart's torso and zips it up]

— The gourmet prison camps of the east, "Team Homer"

Burns: [groaning] Ohh! I need some more ether. I can still feel the movement of the emory board. Smithers: [checks bottle] We're fresh out, Sir. I'll get some more. Burns: Leave the rag. [sniffs it] Mmm... [Smithers walks out; Homer sneaks in] Homer: Uh...excuse me, Mr. Burns? Burns: [gasps] Poppin' Fresh! You glutinous little doughboy. [Homer morphs into Poppin' Fresh in Burns' mind] [chuckles] There's something I've wanted to do to you for years! [starts poking his stomach; Homer laughs] Homer: [getting his eyes poked at] Ow! Heh, Mr. Burns? I, er, was wondering if you'd like to sponsor my bowling team...for... $500. Burns: Ho ho, why, certainly, Poppin' Fresh! I owe my robust physique to your tubes of triple-bleached goo. Homer: Woo hoo! [runs out] Hey, everybody: if you want to ask Burns for a favor, now's the time! He's doped up, or dying, or something. Hans: [running in] Uh, excuse me: I'd like to request $17 for a push-broom rebristling. [shows broom with no bristles on it] Burns: Why, it's that delightful TV leprechaun. I'm going to get your Lucky Charms. [starts a drill] Hans: Oh, no: my brains.

— They're magically...dendrite-icious?, "Team Homer"

Krusty: [looking over] Hey, nice quote uniforms, endquote. Kent: [pretending] This just in, a new addition to our worst-dressed list: those guys! [his team laughs] Apu: Oh, forget this. I am far too fragile to withstand an evening of barbs like that. Homer: Aw, come on: if we quit now, we'll _never_ know how badly they're going to beat us! Moe: Yeah, you're right. That's the kind of thing that would haunt you.

— Moe, arbiter of bad dreams, "Team Homer"

Pedro: Buenas noches, senoritas! Moe: What'd he say? What'd he say? Was that about me?

— Only about your feminine side, "Team Homer"

Homer: Come on, guys! Let's be the team that supports each other. [chanting] You can do it, Otto! You can do it, Otto! Help each other out: that'll be our motto! [Apu and Moe join in] You can do it, Otto! You can do it, Otto! Apu: Make this spare; I'll give you free gelato! Moe: Then back to my place, where I will get you blotto! Homer: Domo Arigato, Mr. Roboto. All: You can do it, Otto! You can do it -- Otto: Uh, guys? I made the spare. We won! All: [pause] Yay!

— The power of teamwork, "Team Homer"

Homer: Let me set the scene for you, Marge. Marge: All right. Homer: It's a 7-10 split. Marge: Uh huh? Homer: The hardest shot in bowling. It was all up to me -- Marge: Oh! Homer: -- so I got up all my courage. Right away, my lips started to move, and I came up with the chant that won the match! Marge: Who knocked down the pins? Homer: [annoyed] I don't know. You know, some guy, er...Otto, I guess. Marge: Good for him! Homer: Yes, but -- Marge, you're not -- you're missing the point! The individual doesn't matter. It was a team effort, and I was the one who came up with the whole team idea...me! Marge: I can't believe Otto picked up a 7-10 split -- he's phenomenal! Homer: But -- Marge: Wow!

— Marge, conoisseur of true bowling acumen, "Team Homer"

Skinner: Several days ago, a violent riot erupted incited by an inflammatory T-shirt slogan. No, no, now don't try to remember what that slogan was! To ensure that this frenzied dance of destruction is never repeated, I have decided starting Monday, all students will be required to wear uniforms. Everyone: [gasps] Uniforms?! [Bart winces and ducks as paper and a shoe are thrown at him] [Lunch Lady Doris puts "Spanish Flea" on] Doris: Say hello to our little genius, Martin, who looks even smarter in this vest and short-pant combination from Mr. Boy of Main Street. Or, how about little Lisa Simpson? She'll have no reason to play the blues in this snappy ensemble topped of with a saucy French beret that seems to scream, [French accent] "Silence!" [people throw paper and a shoe at her] {[a guy walks in the back door with boxes on a trolley]} Skinner: {All right, pick your size: extra small or extra large. We've got both. No pushing, now! I've -- what? [Doris whispers in his ear] Oh. I've just been informed we've run out of extra large.}

— Springfield Elementary tries to go Catholic, "Team Homer"

All but Moe: Go, Moe! Go, Moe! Don't make Homer shout out "D'oh"! [Moe rolls a strike] All: Yay!

— For want of scansion, the match was won, "Team Homer"

Wiggum: {All right, Snake: make us proud. [Lou unlocks his leg irons]} Snake: {[winding up] One, two, three! [runs quickly] Four five six seven eight nine ten. [pops head out door] Bye! [slams door]} Wiggum: {Uh...we forfeit. [the Pin Pals laugh and cheer]}

— Ten small steps to freedom, "Team Homer"

Homer: There it is, boys: the championship trophy. Apu: We will never possess it. The Holy Rollers have won it five years in a row. [the Rollers (Ned, Maude, and the Lovejoys) look piously at the heavens as a light shines on them] Moe: Ehh, they think they're so high and mighty just because they never got caught driving without pants. [Ned bowls, and one pin stays up] Homer: [laughs] God-boy couldn't get a strike! [laughs more] Ned: [looking up to God] It's me, Ned. [the pin falls; Homer gets zapped with lightning from the ball return]

— Mysterious ways, "Team Homer"

Bart: [whining] 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 weiner kids are listening. [hangs up] Lisa: We are not weiners! Homer: Then what are you dressed like that for? Bart+Lisa: They made us. Homer: "Oh, they made us." That's loser-talk! You gotta start acting more like me and my team, the future champions of the world. Nothing's going to stop us now! Burns: {[in his office] Stop everything!}

— Except for a little thing I like to call Mr. Monty, "Team Homer"

Burns: {I don't remember writing a check for bowling.} Smithers: {Uh, Sir, that's a check for your _boweling_.} Burns: {Oh, yes. That's very important.} Smithers: {Yes, Sir. Remember that month you didn't do it?} Burns: {Yes...that was unpleasant for all concerned. Anyway, back to the checks.} Stop everything! I don't remember writing a check for bowling. Smithers: Hmm...the memo says, "To my pal, Poppin' Fresh." Burns: Ah yes, that greedy, grasping, glob of chemicals. Smithers: Probably one of your ether-induced hallucinations, Sir. I'll check the employee file to see who could pull off such an impersonation. [pushes a remote; a TV turns on] Hmm. Now, it was either Pops Freshenmeyer -- [on the screen, Pops and Poppin' are overlaid] -- or Homer Simpson. [Homer and Poppin' are overlaid; "Perfect match" flashes] Burns: Homer Simpson, eh? Let's shut down this bowling scam right now.

— Burns remembers who it is for once, "Team Homer"

All but Homer: Come on, Homer! Come on, Homer! Pretend this is baseball and hit us a homer! [Homer gets a strike; they cheer] Homer: By the way, guys: rhyming "Homer" with "homer"? [kisses fingers] Burns: [walking in] Look at them, Smithers, enjoying their embezzlement. Smithers: [dramatic] I have a much uglier word for it, Sir: misappropriation. Simpson! [Homer sees them and tosses his ball away; someone screams] Burns: [menacing] Listen here...I want to join your team. Homer: You want to join my _what_? Smithers: You want to _what_ his team? Burns: I've had one of my unpredictable changes of heart. Seeing these fine young athletes, reveling in the humiliation of a vanquished foe...mmm, I haven't felt this energized since my last, er, boweling.

— Complete with Smeckler's Powder, "Team Homer"

Otto: Oh, man! He'll blow our winning streak. Moe: Yeah. Call this an unfair generalization if you must, but old people are no good at everything. Homer: Look, guys, it's not that simple: he's my boss. I'll tell you what: I'll give him a shot, and if he stinks, it'll be easier to tell him no. [Burns can barely lift the ball, let alone roll it] [he collapses with exhaustion on the lane] [Smithers runs down and kicks the pins over] Homer: Welcome aboard! [sheepish] It wasn't any easier.

— Burns, athlete of yesteryear, "Team Homer"

Skinner: Ah, these uniforms are godsend. Horseplay is down 40\%, youthful exuberance has been cut in half, high spirits are at an all-time low. Doris: They've even begun blinking in unison. [the students blink] Skinner: I love that sound!

— All wet and moist, like, "Team Homer"

Edna: Now, children, while you're having quiet time, I'm going to make sure my desk is exactly parallel to the rear wall. [bends over her desk with her butt toward the class] Bart: [holding his slingshot] Oh. There's something I used to do in this situation, but...can't...remember! Nelson: Ha...ho?

— The deprogramming begins, "Team Homer"

Otto: Whoa. I can't believe I got booted off the team for Mr. Businessman. Pfft! I bet I'll get respect once I get that Harvard diploma. [turns to prize machine] [Burns struggles with a ball; he pushes it into the gutter] Burns: Look at that! All the way to the end with only one push. Moe: Aw, that's the third game in a row he cost us, Homer! [the Stereo Types team huddles, the turns around] Luigi: Mama mia! Willy: Hoot, man! Cletus: Yeehaw! McAllister: Arr, me mateys: arr. Apu: Whoa. They _begged_ me to join their team -- begged me!

— Dame Fortune frowns, "Team Homer"

Burns: Well, we certainly got walloped tonight, eh, fellas? [laughs] Homer: Yeah, ha ha -- [gets kicked under the table] Well, Mr. -- ouch! Mr. Burns, next week is the big championship game, and -- Burns: Ah, yes, that silly championship. [laughs] The only ship worth a damn is friendship. [makes a paper boat] Look, here comes the friend ship, sailing your way! [puts it on Homer's beer; it sinks] Oh, here: let me get that, friend. [pulls it out] Whoops. Lost a nail. Well, that's leprosy for you.

— Uh, cheers, "Team Homer"

Todd: [without enthusiasm] You're "it". [touches Lisa] Lisa: [to Milhouse] Now you are the one who is "it". Milhouse: [looking down] Understood. Chalmers: Well, I've got to hand it to you, Seymour: these drab student coverings have created the perfect distraction-free environment, thus preparing the children for permanent positions in tomorrow's mills and processing facilities. Hah! Best of all, with less than a minute to go before I leave, absolutely nothing has gone wrong -- [it thunders; rain starts to fall] Skinner: We -- well, it is starting to rain, but I can hardly be blamed for that, can I? [Chalmers begins laughing; Seymour joins in] Chalmers: Yes, very good.

— Tag, uniform style, "Team Homer"

Bart: Wow! Look at all the colors, man! Lisa: Red, green, yellow, orange! I remember all of these. Milhouse: I'm freaking out! Jimbo: Hey: something's coming back to me. Down with homework! Martin: [dancing, shirtless] And down with uniforms! Yay! [other children cheer and riot] Chalmers: [getting hit on the head with balls, etc.] Ow. Ow. Ow! Ow. Skinner! Why aren't these uniforms colorfast?! Skinner: I don't understand it. I got them at the same place I buy Mother's dresses, and -- Good Lord! Mother's in the park! [runs] Chalmers: Now this, I gotta see! [walks off]

— For every action..., "Team Homer"

Homer: Oh, Marge, we were so close to winning the championship. Now, thanks to Burns, it's never going to happen. And I spend so much time building that trophy case. [shot of pieces of wood with an Oscar atop them] Marge: Homer, maybe Mr. Burns will bowl a great game, and you will win your championship! Homer: So you're saying...we're definitely going to win? Woo hoo! [grabs Oscar] I won't need _this_ any more! [tries flushing it; tries again and again and again] Marge, someone broke the toilet!

— Oscar vs. bowling trophy, "Team Homer"

Moe: Don't worry about nothing, Homer. I have a feeling that Mr. Burns is going to have a little accident that might keep him from bowling with us tonight, heh heh heh. Burns: [walking in, leaning on Smithers] Smithers, I'm afraid I won't be able to play tonight. My old gimpy knee has gone akimbo again. Moe: [masked, with a cane] Take that! [bashes Burns on the leg with a cane, runs off] Burns: Ooh! Smithers...that precision assault popped it back into place. Thank you, masked stranger!

— Tonya Harding's bodyguard, he ain't, "Team Homer"

Moe: D'oh, he's going to ruin everything! All right, that's it, Homer: either Burns goes, or Moe goes. Apu: Yes, I am afraid that I am going to have to make a similar threat with my name in place of Moe's name. Burns: So, who's ready to kick some Christian keister? Homer: Oh, uh...Mr. Burns? As team captain, it's my duty to inform you that -- Burns: Oh, I almost forgot. I brought you all a little something. [pulls out a professionally-designed Pin Pals T-shirt] Moe: Aw, would you look at that? "Pin Pals". Apu: At last, I finally have a garment fine enough to be married in. Burns: I've always been wealthy, but this is the first time I ever felt...rich. Homer: [sobs] Aw. Burns: Now, Homer, you were about to say something to me. Homer: [pause] You're off the team. Burns: I -- what? Moe: [awkward laugh] He's just ribbing you, Monty. [Apu agrees; they all laugh]

— How quickly they forget, "Team Homer"

Homer: Woo hoo! We won! We won! [Homer, Apu, and Moe dance while the kid gets the trophy from the case] [Homer holds it, but Burns takes it] Burns: You mean, _I_ won. Apu: But we were a team, Sir. Burns: Oh, I'm afraid I've had one of my trademark changes of heart. You see, teamwork will only take you so far. Then, the truly evolved person makes that extra grab for personal glory. Now, I must discard my teammates, much like the boxer must shed roll after roll of sweaty, useless, disgusting flab before he can win the title. Ta! [walks off with Smithers] Homer: I guess some people never change. Or, they quickly change and then quickly change back. Moe: You know what? We don't need him, or his trophy! We got each other, huh? [general murmurs of agreement]

— The only ship worth a damn, "Team Homer"

Oh, he wants that corn so much!

— Homer watches Bumblebee man, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Bart: Let's go to the Sharper Image. They've got a TV shaped like a '50s diner. Lisa: No, let's go to the Nature Company. They've got a TV assembled by Hopi Indians.

— The Simpsons go to buy a new TV, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Homer: [gasps] 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 it. And look, there's Magnetbox and Sorny. Salesman: [walking up] Listen, I'm not going to lie to you. Those are all superior machines. But if you like to watch your TV, and I mean _really_ watch it, you want the Carnivale'. [shows Homer and Bart a TV very similar to their old one] It features two-pronged wall plug, pre-molded hand grip well, durable outer casing to prevent fallapart... Homer: Sold. You wrap it up, I'll start bringing in the pennies.

— Seems like that TV and me have been together forever, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Marge: [holding up a headband] Mmm, honey, I don't think these clothes are us. Lisa: Who are they? Cletus: Hey, Brandine. [holds up a short shirt reading "Classy Lassy"] You can wear this shirt to work. Brandine: Oh, Cletus. You know I gotta wear the shirt what Dairy Queen give me.

— Not even theirs?, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

It wouldn't be right to buy something just for me. If it were a suit we all could wear, maybe...

— Marge tries on a Chanel suit, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Lisa: Come on, Mom, you never treat yourself to anything. Marge: Oh sure I do. I treated myself to Sanka not three days ago.

— You were out of Montreal Morn, I presume?, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Lisa: Just buy [the suit]. You don't have to rationalize everything. Marge: All right, I will buy it. It'll be good for the economy.

— All Keynesian models considered, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Homer: [whistles at Marge] You look great. Marge: Really? You like it? Oh, I'd love to wear this someplace special. Homer: Spurlock's Cafeteria, it is.

— They got cocktail weenies there, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

What's the point of going out? We're just gonna wind up back here anyway.

— Homer, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Apu: Oh, Mrs. Simpson, you are looking very prosperous today. Might I interest you in some of our impulse items here by the cash register? Perhaps a crazy motorized wiggle pen. [demonstrates] [laughing] Ohh, look at... the craziness.

— Marge shops at the Kwik-E-Mart wearing a Chanel suit, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Woman: Attendant, I'd like some gas. Apu: Yes, I'm sorry, I do not speak English, okay. Woman: But you were just talking to... Apu: Yes, yes. Hot dog, hot dog. Yes sir, no sir. Maybe, okay.

— I learned my English from the Police Academy movies, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Evelyn: Well, I can't pump [the gas] myself. I'm calling AAA. Marge: [stops her] I used to be a little overwhelmed too, but it's not that hard. I can show you. Evelyn: Marge, is that you? Marge Bouvier from high school? Marge: Um... yeah. Hi... hi, Evelyn. Evelyn: How about that? Marge, you look wonderful. And to think I heard you married Homer Simpson. Marge: I did marry Homer. Evelyn: [pause] Come, you must show me the pumps.

— Didn't go to the prom with him, though, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Marge: 90\% of the time, if the gas isn't pumping, this is your problem. [turns a switch at back which resets the pump] Evelyn: Automotive skills and fashion sense. Why, you've come a long way from the girl I knew nothing about in high school. Marge: We ran with our different crowds. You had your debutante balls and... skinny-dipping, and I had my... home shoe repair course. Evelyn: Oh Marge, you haven't changed a bit as far as I know. Say, why don't you drop by the country club tomorrow? [drives off] Oh, and bring the family. [Marge watches her pull off and smiles] [Burns pulls up in a quadricycle] Burns: [honks horn (awooooga)] You there, fill it up with petroleum distillate, and re-vulcanize my tires, post-haste.

— Love in the Time of Leaded Gasoline and Tiller Steering, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Marge: Bart, comb your hair. Homer, I don't think you should wear a short-sleeved shirt with a tie. Homer: But Sipowicz does it. Marge: If Detective Sipowicz jumped off a cliff, would you do that too? Homer: Ohh, wish I was Sipowicz. Lisa: Do I have to go? That country club is a hotbed of exclusionist snobs and status-seeking social climbers. Marge: I've told you, I don't like you using the word "hotbed". Please, Lisa, we so rarely get to do things like this. And everybody, everybody _please_ be on your best behavior. Bart, no grifting. Bart: [puts a deck of cards in his sleeve] Aw, raspberries.

— Raspa-raspa-raspberries, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Gatekeeper: Name, please. Homer: Simpson family. Marge: We're not poor. [looks around nervously] Well, we're not.

— At the gates of the country club, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Everybody, keep smiling, and I know we're going to fit right in.

— Marge, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Evelyn: Karin, Gillian, Elyzabeth, Patricia, Rauberta, Susan, meet Marge. [the ladies greet Marge] Marge: Pleased to meet you. You look like such a happy bunch... of people. Susan: That's the trouble with first impressions. You only get to make one.

— And you just made yours, jealous wannabe, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

I get the sneaking suspicion that L.L. Bean and Eddie Bauer are selling me the same honey.

— Susan, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Marge: I get food in the mail, but in a different way. Every month, Good Housekeeping arrives in my mailbox bursting with recipes. Sometimes the most satisfying meal is the one you cook yourself. [pause from the ladies] Patricia: Mmm. That's so true, Marge. One night, Wif and I came home late. We decided not to wake Iris, so instead, we microwaved our own soup. [laughs] [the ladies murmur and agree] Of course, it was a horrible mess, but Iris didn't mind cleaning it up.

— The secret ingredient is turntables, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Bart: That place is weird. A man in the bathroom kept handing me towels, until I paid him to stop. Homer: [holding a stack of towels] Should have held out longer, boy.

— You can never have enough towels, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Lisa: The rich are different from you and me Marge: Yes, they're better.

— Socially better, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Today, while the rest of you were being different, I did a very good job of fitting in.

— Marge, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Marge: [thinking] Oh, we've got a winning hand, we can take the rest of the tricks. [camera pans higher up] [thinking] Oh, we'd better be careful. The purpose of this game is to make friends. You don't make friends by winning. [camera pans higher up] [thinking] Still, there's nothing more popular than a gracious winner. [camera pans to the end of her hair] [thinking] Don't ask me, I'm just hair. Your head ended 18 inches ago.

— A hair-brained scheme, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Tom Kite: Now, you don't want to overthink. Homer: Not an issue. Tom Kite: Keep your head down. Homer: [raising his head] Huh? Tom Kite: Pretend there's no one else here. [Homer scratches his butt with the club and burps] And just go at your own pace. [Homer hits the ball very close to the hole] Wow, very impressive. You're a natural, Mr. Simpson. Homer: Really? Tom Kite: Uh huh. All you need is your own set of clubs, and stay the _hell_ out of my locker! [grabs the clubs] [walking off] You can keep the shoes!

— You're stuck here! (Mood swings!), "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Marge, did you know that Kennedy and Lincoln had the same handicap?

— Homer reads a book about golf, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Marge: Homer, please. I have to alter this suit so it looks different for tomorrow. Homer: [yawns] Just slap some bumper stickers on it and come to bed, will you, Marge?

— Some rhinestones oughta do nicely as well, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Rauberta: Love your outfit, Marge. The vest says "Let's have lunch", but the culottes say "You're paying".

— At the country club, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Mom, look, I found something more fun than complaining!

— Lisa rides the pony at the country club, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Don't worry, Marge. [Susan's] idea of wit is nothing more than an incisive observation humorously phrased and delivered with impeccable timing.

— Evelyn, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Burns: Who is that lavatory linksman, Smithers? Smithers: Homer Simpson, sir. One of the fork and spoon operators from sector 7-G. Burns: Well, he's certainly got a loose waggle. Perhaps I've finally found a golfer worthy of a match with Monty Burns, eh? Smithers: His waggle is no match for yours, sir. I've never seen you lose a game. Except for that one in '74 when you let Richard Nixon win. That was very kind of you, sir. Burns: Oh, he just looked so forlorn, Smithers, with his [imitating Nixon] "Oh, I can't go to prison, Monty. They'll eat me alive!" [Smithers laughs] I wonder if this Homer Nixon is any relation? Smithers: Unlikely, sir. They spell and pronounce their names differently. Burns: Bah. Schedule a game and I'll ask him myself.

— I run my plant precisely on "shedule", "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Oh, this game could mean big things for me, Marge. If I beat Mr. Burns, I mean really wallop him bad, I'm sure to get that big raise I've been gunning for!

— Homer, unclear on the concept, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Marge: All right, all right, but if you win, don't make a scene and dance around with your "woo-hoo"s, please! We can't afford a single slipup. They're judging us. [Homer kisses Marge and Lisa, who is on the bed] Lisa: Mom, did you like horses when you were my age, 'cause I--? Marge: I don't know. Look, tonight is very important. Mommy has to alter her suit so it looks like a totally new suit. Lisa: [75 RPM] Mom, do you want to know the fifteen reasons I like horses better than cars? One, a horse never has to-- Marge: I really need to concentrate on this, Lisa, would you mind just--? Lisa: You know how a horse goes like this? [jumps up and down on the bed] Mom, like this! Marge: I've already altered this so many times, it's not impossible-- Lisa: Whinny, whinny! Mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mo-m! Marge: [yelling] LISA, PLEASE!!! [pause] [Lisa runs out while Marge continues her sewing] [Marge pulls out her altered suit and examines it] [Marge pushes on the pedal and her suit gets pulled into the sewing machine] No! No, no, no, noooo! [pulls out her mangled suit] At times like this, I guess all you can do is laugh. [5 second pause]

— Or sit until we fade to black, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Marge: I need a formal dress for tonight! Patty: You've come to the right place. Selma: We've got classy duds up the yin-yang.

— No dress too horrible, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Homer: Good morning, Mr. Burns. Beautiful day to be outside, isn't it? Burns: Rant on, Simpson, but your vainglorious boasting will only add savor to my inevitable triumph. Homer: [pause] Yes.

— No, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Burns: Oh, quit cogitating, Steinmetz, and use an open-faced club. The sand wedge! Homer: Mmm... open-faced club sandwich.

— One-track mind, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Marge: Miss? Miss? Do you have a Chanel suit or any other high quality clothes? Saleswoman: No, ma'am, but we do have a shipment of slightly burned Sears activewear coming in this afternoon. Marge: Oh, I give up. [walks away] Cletus: What time and how burnt?

— At night, burnt to a crisp, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Burns: Smithers, what are you doing up here? Homer: And what are you doing with this ball, and all those other balls? [many anagrammed golf balls pour forth from Smithers' clothes] Smithers: Uh, there are no other balls, just these, uh, reptile eggs. Step away, they're endangered. Homer: [puts one in his mouth] These aren't reptile eggs. You've been cheating! No matter where Mr. Burns hits the ball, you put a fresh one on the green. Burns: [gasps] Cheating? For me? Why, Smithers, that's patently unnecessary. I'm one of the world's finest golfers. Why, in all the years you've caddied for me, I've never lost a-- [realizing] Oh.

— Megalomania is shot down again, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

I knew my kind wasn't welcome here.

— Krusty at the country club, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

[Homer drives to the entrance of the country club] Marge: Homer, what are you doing? Homer: I'm driving up to the main building. They got valet parking. Marge: We can't drive this up there. They'll see the dent. They'll see the coat hanger antenna. Stop the car, we're walking. Homer: But Marge, valets! Maybe for once, someone will call me "sir" without adding, "You're making a scene."

— Yes, sir, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Homer: I'm going to regale everyone with my anecdote. You know, the one I tried to say on the radio? Heh, heh. Who's going to "bleep" me this time? Bart: I'm going to pose as an Italian count and get some old lady to leave me all her money. Lisa: I'm going to ask people if they know their servant's last names, or in the case of butlers, their first. Marge: No, no, no! Not tonight! No vulgarity, no mischief, no politics. Just be good! [an uncomfortable pause] Bart: I'm sorry, mom. I'll behave. Lisa: I won't say anything controversial. Homer: I just won't say anything, okay, honey? Maggie: *suck* *suck* *suck* *suck* *suck* [Marge glares at her] [silence]

— Silence of the Laughs, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

You kids should thank your mother. Now that she's a better person, we can see how awful we really are.

— Homer at the country club, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Marge: Homey, I like your in-your-face humanity. I like the way Lisa speaks her mind. I like Bart's-- [Bart smiles, but it fades] I like _Bart_. [Bart smiles again]

— I like your sheets, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Let's go. I wouldn't want to join any club that would have _this_ me as a member.

— Marge waxes philosophical, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Lisa: It's okay. Those snobs would have never made us members, anyway. [at the ball, a huge gala had been set up for OFF] Evelyn: Well, I wonder where Marge could be? She's missing her own initiation. Susan: I hope she didn't take my attempt to destroy her too seriously. [slurps her drink loudly] Burns: Where's Homer? Oh, and to think I spent all afternoon baking him this cake. [a pink messy cake reading "Welcome Homer"] Smithers: Mmm... [tastes the cake] Ugh! Burns: I pickled the figs myself.

— Looks deceive, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Boy: [mopping] Hey, did you guys just come from the prom? Bart: Sort of. Marge: But, you know, we realized we're more comfortable in a place like this. Boy: [nods, then realizes] Man, you're crazy. This place is a dump!

— If only they knew about the secret sauce, "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield"

Executor: May I offer my condolences on the untimely passing of your Great Aunt Hortense. As her only living heirs, you stand to inherit her entire estate. Homer: [crying] Poor Aunt Hortense! [crying] [weakly] Woo-hoo. [crying] [weakly] Woo-hoo. Executor: The only stipulation is that you spend one night in a haunted house. Marge: Isn't that somewhat unusual? Executor: No, it's a standard clause.

— Section 2, Paragraph 3, Clause 5, "Bart the Fink"

Homer: Best night's sleep I ever had. Lisa: Their tap water tasted better than ours.

— The Simpsons spend the night in a haunted house, "Bart the Fink"

Marge: What are you gonna spend your money on, kids? Bart: There's a special down at the Tacomat: a hundred tacos for a hundred dollars. I'm gonna get that. Lisa: I'm going to contribute _my_ money to the Corporation for Public Broadcasting. Marge: Tacos? Public broadcasting?

— Regretting your $30 contributon, eh?, "Bart the Fink"

Marge: You'll feel better knowing your money's in the hands of professionals. Clerk: [in an ape mask] Uk, uk, are you folks ready to go ape? Lisa: Mom... Marge: A professional in an ape mask is still a professional.

— At the First Tarzan Bank (of Springfield), "Bart the Fink"

Man: ... and you'll find that saving for your future is far more thrilling than any roller coaster. Bart: Really? Wow, I should have started a long time ago! Man: Mm-hmm. Now sign these forms. I'm sure you'll find them more interesting than a weekend with Batman.

— Batbart signs Batforms, "Bart the Fink"

Milhouse: A million dollars? Gee, thanks Bart, I owe you one. Bart: That's a postdated check, remember. Don't cash it 'til; the year 10,000 Milhouse: Okay. [checks his watch]

— By then you might _be_ an ape, "Bart the Fink"

That's it, no more autographs. They're naming a burger after me at the new restaurant.

— Krusty, "Bart the Fink"

[on phone] Cayman Islands guy: [laughs] I'm sorry, but I cannot divulge information about that customer's secret illegal account. [hangs up] Oh, crap. I shouldn't have said he was a customer. Oh, crap. I shouldn't have said it was a secret. Oh, crap! I certainly shouldn't have said it was illegal. [sighs] It's too hot today.

— Who cares?, "Bart the Fink"

Clerk: Sorry, the bank is-- oh, kid. Gosh, I'm sorry, I meant to tell you -- turns out Krusty is one of the biggest tax cheats in history, and they nailed him, all thanks to you. Some might say you're a hero, kid. Not me, however, I love Krusty. Bart: Ohh...

— "Bart the Fink"

Bart: Krusty's my hero. How could I do this to him? Lisa: It's a tragedy for all us kids, but Bart, you can't beat yourself up. Bart: Yeah. There'll be plenty of people to do that for me at recess tomorrow.

— Krusty's tax avoision comes to light, "Bart the Fink"

Krusty: I can't go to jail!! I got a swanky lifestyle. I'm used to the best. Man 1: Krusty, this is America. We don't send our celebrities to jail. We're just going to garnish your salary. Krusty: You're going to GARNISH my CELERY? Man 1: Please, Krusty, no jokes! Krusty: WHO'S JOKING?! Oh, I don't understand what you're saying, it all sounds so crazy to me.

— Boo yourself, "Bart the Fink"

Man 2: It simply means we'll be taking a small portion of your salary until your debt is repaid. Say, 75\% for 40 years. Krusty: But I don't plan to live that long. Man 1: All right. Better make it 95\%. Krusty: Ah! Oh! Oy...

— I may or may not die young, "Bart the Fink"

Homer: Lesse, I'll have four tax burgers, one IRS-wich, withhold the lettuce, four dependent-sized sodas, and a FICA-ccino. Kid: Fill out schedule B. You should receive your burgers in six to eight weeks.

— At the new IRS Burger, "Bart the Fink"

They took my money. They wrecked my show, they buried a bunch of stinking veterans in my family plot. But at least I got my memories. Those are locked up safe in my fabulous mansion.

— Krusty, "Bart the Fink"

My Grandpa Zev would turn over in his grave if it wasn't filled with some veteran.

— Krusty when his mansion is foreclosed, "Bart the Fink"

Krusty: Oh, my beloved pornography! I can't watch this anymore. I'm going to bed. Auctioneer: How much for Krusty's bed? Moe: Half a buck. Auctioneer: Sold! Moe: Good night everybody! Everybody: Good night Moe!

— Krusty's mansion is foreclosed, "Bart the Fink"

Krusty: But I love that plane! I used to fly to Vegas in it with Dean Martin. One time we were flyin' in it, 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 recorded years before.

— That's Enole'?, "Bart the Fink"

Patty: Hey, Selma. That plane would go great with your suitcase. Selma: Nah. I just bought it to soak my feet in. [which she is doing right now] Ohh, ohhh...

— Krusty's mansion is foreclosed, "Bart the Fink"

Bart: 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: No offense, kid, but your mom's a dingbat! There's no silver lining here. I was a big cheese. A _huge_ cheese! And now look at me! I got to ride the bus like a schnook. I got to live in an apartment like an idiot! I have to wait in line with a bunch of nobodies to buy groceries from a failure! Bart: It doesn't matter what you did wrong, though, as long as you're on TV people will respect you. Krusty: [spits] Bah. What good is respect without the moolah to back it up. Everywhere I go I see teachers driving Ferraris, research scientists drinking champagne. I tried to drink a Coke on the bus, and they took away my pass! [breaks a bottle of scotch] That's no life for a famous clown.

— Ask Willie Nelson or Leona Helmsley, "Bart the Fink"

Shiva H. Vishnu!

— Apu's expletive, "Bart the Fink"

Chalmers: I must say I've had a lovely evening, Agnes. I don't suppose I could come in for a cup of... [Skinner opens the door and turns on the light] Agnes: Seymour! Skinner: Mother! [gasps] Superintendent Chalmers! Chalmers: Skinner! Skinner: What I wouldn't give for something to interrupt this awkward moment. [Krusty flies by bawling] That'll do nicely.

— "Bart the Fink"

Lisa: You gotta hand it to Krusty. Homer: Yeah. Even with all his problems, he's still willing to do something unbelievably dangerous just to entertain his fans. All: Wow. Bart: Yeah, that's my Krusty. I got a feeling he'll be all right. [Krusty crashes into a mountain]

— I said ha-ha, "Bart the Fink"

Ladies and gentlemen... Krusty the Clown... is dead.

— Chief Wiggum, "Bart the Fink"

Bart: I can't believe Krusty is really gone. Homer: Don't worry, son. I'm sure he's in heaven right now laughing it up with the other celebrities. John Dillinger, Ty Cobb, Josef Stalin... [sighs] I wish I were dead.

— Give me your money, your baseball, and your life, "Bart the Fink"

We are gathered here today to mourn the passing of Herschel Shmoikel Krustofsky, beloved entertainer and dear friend... [perking up] Hi, I'm Troy McClure! You may remember me from other show business funerals such as "Andre the Giant: We Hardly Knew Ye", and "Shemp Howard: Today We Mourn a Stooge"!

— Troy McClure at the funeral, "Bart the Fink"

I'm going to miss you, Krusty. Me and all the other Sideshows... except Sideshow Bob.

— Melvin van Horne at Krusty's funeral, "Bart the Fink"

In the midst of our sorrow, we can take solace in the fact that your elevated blood alcohol level probably helped you burn up quicker.

— Melvin van Horne at Krusty's funeral, "Bart the Fink"

Well, that's the funeral, folks. We'll be sitting shivah at the friar's club at 7:00 and again at 10. You must be over 18 for the 10:00. It gets a little blue.

— Troy McClure closes Krusty's funeral, "Bart the Fink"

Homer: Don't let Krusty's death get you down, boy. People die all the time, just like that. [snap] Why, you could wake up dead tomorrow. [pause] Well, goodnight.

— Aw, I messed up again, "Bart the Fink"

Bart: Mom, I just saw Krusty! Marge: Yes, dear, in your mind. Bart: No, on the street. Marge: On the street in your mind. Bart: Why won't you believe me? Marge: Sweetheart, sometimes when people die, you just want them to be alive so badly you see them everywhere. I went through the same thing when Lyndon Johnson died.

— Who the hell is Lyndon Johnson?, "Bart the Fink"

Bart: Dr. Hibbert, who was that man? Hibbert: [chuckles] Why, Bart, telling you that would violate the patient-doctor privilege, just as if I were to tell you that Jasper here has five seconds to live. Jasper: What did he say? Mrs. Glick: He said I'm next!

— Jasper Moleman?, "Bart the Fink"

Lisa: Bart, you're seeing Krusty everywhere because you want to tell him you're sorry for causing his death. Would it help if I told you you're not responsible for Krusty's death. Bart: Yes. Yes, it would. Lisa: Well, I can't. You'll just have to learn to live with your mental problem.

— Heartless Lisa, "Bart the Fink"

McAllister: Arr, I've got some customers. Call me back, Ishmael.

— "Bart the Fink"

It's no use, Bart. We've looked up and down these docks, from Pier One to that Pier One by Pier 17.

— Lisa, on the search for Krusty, "Bart the Fink"

Lisa: Are you Rory B. Bellows? Rory: Yes. Bart: How about Krusty the Klown? Rory: Sorry, I don't do impressions. Bart: Well, if you're not Krusty, how come you have the exact same signature as him? Rory: I'm Rory Bellows, I tell you! And I got some real corroborating evidence, over here, by the throttle! [turns the ship up to full throttle and tries to get away, but his ship is still tied to the dock] You know, you kids coulda said something instead of letting me make an ass of myself.

— You don't need _us_ to do that, "Bart the Fink"

Bart: Well, now that we've blown your cover, I guess you gotta come back and do your show again! Lisa: Or kill us... [they both nervously giggle]

— Way to go Lise, "Bart the Fink"

Krusty: I won't be coming back, kids. I got a sweet life here. The sea air is cleaning my lungs. The sun is toasting my pale skin a healthy brown, and most important, I learned that I don't need money to be happy. All that high living just distracted me from my true calling in life: salvaging sunken barges for scrap iron. Sorry, kids, there's nothing left for me on dry land anymore. Bart: But, Krusty, what about all the kids who depend on you to brighten up their afternoon. Are you gonna turn your back on them? Krusty: Yes!

— Good answer, "Bart the Fink"

[Krusty sails out of view] Lisa: What about the great feeling you get from knowing you're better than regular people? Bart: What about being an illiterate clown who's still more respected than all the educators in the country put together! [Krusty throws down his anchor] Krusty: Yeah! I'm not gonna let those guys hog all the respect while I'm out here in this stinking tub. [dives into the water and swims to shore] That's just what those eggheads want! Well, forget it poindexter, 'cause Krusty's back in town! B+L: Yay!

— Forget those PC thugs, "Bart the Fink"

Bart: So, Krusty, what are you gonna do about your tax problems? Krusty: Don't sweat it. The life of Rory B. Bellows is insured for a surprisingly large amount. [far off, Rory's boathouse blows up] B+L+K: [laugh]

— Rory B. Bellows: We Are Richer For Having Lost Him, "Bart the Fink"

I hope they show the time where they traded guns to the Indians for corn, and then the Indians shot them and took the corn.

— Bart watches "Young Jebediah Springfield", "Lisa the Iconoclast"

Jebediah: [on film] A noble spirit embiggens the smallest man. Edna: Embiggens? I never heard that word before I moved to Springfield Ms.Hoover: I don't know why. It's a perfectly cromulent word.

— Nice supercalifragilisticexpialidocious word, "Lisa the Iconoclast"

Skinner: Now, as you all know, Springfield's 200th birthday is only a week away. Every class will do its part to make our local bicentennial just as memorable as our national bicentennial. Of course, you children are too young to remember that, with the possible exception of Kearney. Kearney: [shaving] Those tall ships really lifted the nation's spirits after Watergate.

— Quit bugging me about that stupid pirate, "Lisa the Iconoclast"

Lisa: How about town crier? You'd be great at that. Homer: You think so? Bart: Well, yeah, Dad, you're a big fat loudmouth and you can walk when you have to.

— Homer during the 200th anniversary of Springfield, "Lisa the Iconoclast"

Dangerous river crossings threatened life and limb but helped our founding fathers save on bridge tolls.

— Voiceover on a mechanized act of the founding of Springfield, "Lisa the Iconoclast"

Hurlbut: Sorry if I startled you, but I do love to talk Jebediah, even when I'm drinking my chicory. Lisa: Hi, I'm Lisa Simpson. I'm researching a report on Jebediah. Hurlbut: Oh, you're in for a treat. You know, some historians consider Jebediah a minor patriot, but I think you'll find he's easily the equal of William Dawes or even Samuel Otis.

— Come again?, "Lisa the Iconoclast"

Homer: You su-diddely-uck, Flanders! [grabs a bell from him] Hear ye, hear ye! Ye olde town crier proclaimed crappy by all! Chooseth Homer Simpson, and he shalt rock thy world! Wiggum: Good God, he is fabulous. Skinner: Yes, he's embiggened that role with his cromulent performance. Quimby: Top-notch criering, I admit, but the hat and bell belong to Ned Flanders, so no dice. Ned: Oh, they're just family heirlooms. They shouldn't stand in the way of Homer taking my job. Homer: Less chat, more hat. [Ned hands it over. Homer puts it on and it rips] Woo-hoo! Hear ye, hear ye! The Homer Broadcasting System is on the air! All hollering, all the time! I'm going to-- [Quimby stops him] Quimby: You're going to restrict your criering to the parade and selected pre-approved publicity events! Homer: [meek] Okay.

— Auditions for the part of town crier, "Lisa the Iconoclast"

This case holds our most treasured exhibit: objects owned and used by Jebediah [Springfield]. This is his fife, upon which he sounded the sweet note of freedom. And his hatchet, with which he hacked at the chains of oppresions. And his -- chamber pot.

— Hollis Hurlbut, curator of Springfield Historical Society, "Lisa the Iconoclast"

Know ye who read this there is more to my life than history records. Firstly, I did not tame the legendary buffalo. It was already tame, I merely shot it. Secondly, I have not always been known as Jebediah Springfield. Until 1796, I was Hans Sprungfeld, murderous pirate, and the half-wits of this town shall never learn the truth! Ha-ha-ha-ha- ha! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! I write this confession so that my infamy will live on after my body has succumbed to my infectious diphtheria.

— The Secret Confession of Jebediah Springfield, "Lisa the Iconoclast"

Hurlbut: Heere's jonnycakes. Is everything okay? You look a bit flushed. Lisa: It's just the excitement from studying Jebediah. Hurlbut: Looks like you've come down with a serious case of Jebeditis. Lisa: Just as I was getting over my Chester A. Arthritis. Hurlbut: [laughs] You had arthritis? Lisa: [chuckles nervously] No.

— Lisa discovers Jebediah's confessions, "Lisa the Iconoclast"

Homer: [ringing bell] Hear ye, hear ye! What's for breakfast! Marge: Toast. Homer: I don't understand thee, Marge. Marge: [sighs] Ye olde toast. Homer: Ooh.

— Homer gets his role as town crier, "Lisa the Iconoclast"

Lisa: Jebediah Springfield was really a vicious pirate named Hans Sprungfeld. His tongue was bitten off by a Turk in a grog house fight. Homer: No tongue, eh? How did he talk and eat [melodramatically] and laugh and love? Lisa: He had it replaced with a prosthetic tongue made out of silver. Homer: Yes, that'll do.

— "Lisa the Iconoclast"

Hoover: Ralph, A. Janey, A. And Lisa, for your, ahem, essay "Jebediah Springfield: Super Fraud", F. Lisa: But it's all true. Hoover: [scoffs] This is nothing but dead, white male-bashing from a PC thug. It's women like you that keep the rest of us from landing a husband.

— Ralph got an A?, "Lisa the Iconoclast"

Hurlbut: I think, Lisa, that you've been taken in by an obvious forgery. Unfortunately, historical research is plagued by this sort of hoax -- the so-called confession. It's just as fake as the Howard Hughes will, the Hitler Diaries, or the Emancipation Retraction. Lisa: But it explains why there's no record of Jebediah Springfield before 1796. He was Hans Sprungfeld until then. Hurlbut: That's preposterous. Get out! You're banned from this historical society! You, and your children, and your children's children -- for three months.

— "Lisa the Iconoclast"

Lisa: Okay, I'd like 25 copies in canary, 25 in goldenrod, 25 in saffron, and 25 in paella. Clerk: OK, 100 yellow.

— At a copy center, "Lisa the Iconoclast"

Comic book guy: Question: is your name Ripley Scott or James Cameron? Homer: No, it's Homer. Comic book guy: Then I would thank you to stop peering at my screenplay, _Homer_. And if I see a movie where computers threaten our personal liberties, I will know you have stolen my idea. Homer: But I'm just waiting for my kid. [thinking] Mental note -- steal his idea.

— At a copy center, "Lisa the Iconoclast"

Lisa: Hi, Apu. Can I put these posters up in your window? Apu: Well, of course you can, you little pixy. You are just as sweet as the stix which bear your name. [Apu sees the poster] No, no, no. Take that down. As a semi-legal immigrant, your poster could land me in a predicament as red-hot as the candies which bear that name.

— Lisa posts signs of Jebediah the fraud, "Lisa the Iconoclast"

Homer: Hear ye, hear ye. My daughter has something to say about Jebediah Springfield. Moe: Aw, look. That cutie wants to say something cute. [barflies murmur] Shut up, you bums, shut up! Go ahead, angel. Lisa: Ahem. Jebediah Springfield was nothing more than a murderous pirate who hated this town! [barflies and Moe's jaws drop] Moe: Good God! Homer, I support, you know, any prejudice you can name, but this hero-phobia sickens me. All right, you and your daughter ain't welcome here no more. Barney, show them the exit. Barney: There's an exit?!

— Thought it was a portal of natural light, "Lisa the Iconoclast"

Quimby: You are tampering with forces you cannot understand. We have major corporations sponsoring this event. Lisa: I hope you know you're sponsoring a celebration of a murderous pirate. Man: A pirate? Well, that's hardly the image we want for Long John Silver's!

— Respectable ship hijackers, "Lisa the Iconoclast"

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

— Mayor "Diamond" Joe Quimby, "Lisa the Iconoclast"

Wiggum: Oh my God! Jebediah's body has been replaced with a skeleton! Hurlbut: No, that's the skeletion _of_ Jebediah.

— Jebediah Springfield's body is exhumed, "Lisa the Iconoclast"

Wiggum: Well, that settles it. There is no silver tongue... is there, bonesy? [takes Jebediah's skull and uses it as a dummy] [as skull] Oh, I wish chief. With that kind of dough, I could buy me some eyeballs! [laughs] That's the spirit, bonesy. Why don't you sing a song for the nice people? [as skull] Okay! Camptown ladies sing this song, doo-dah doo-dah, Camptown races five miles long...

— Jebediah Springfield's body is exhumed, "Lisa the Iconoclast"

We had quitters in the Revolution, too. We called them Kentuckians!

— George Washington (in Lisa's dream), "Lisa the Iconoclast"

Washington: Looks like I'm going to have to find another little girl to be President. What's your friend Janey's number? Lisa: No, not Janey! She'll pack the Supreme Court with _boys_!

— Big change, "Lisa the Iconoclast"

"I want to help you, George Washington"? Pfft, even your dreams are square.

— Bart to Lisa, "Lisa the Iconoclast"

Ralph: Can you open my milk, mommy? Hoover: I'm not mommy, Ralph. I'm Miss Hoover.

— "Lisa the Iconoclast"

Ned: Well, hey, it's Homer. Good to see you, neigh-- [Homer pushes him and takes his bell] Homer: Get lost! [rings the bell] Hear ye, hear ye, hear ye! Helen: He is not the official town crier! Police, do something! Wiggum: Well, I'd like to, ma'am, but he's too damn good! Let him march, boys. Let the man march!

— Homer replaces Ned as the town crier, "Lisa the Iconoclast"

Hitch that team up, Jebediah Springfield Whip them horses, let them wagons roll That a people might embiggen America That a man might embiggen his soul His soul His soul...

Smithers: [on mike] Testing, testing for Mr. Burns. [to Burns] Here you go, sir, I've warmed up the crowd for you. Burns: [in a wooden voice] Welcome employees. Come in! [Smithers holds him a card] The whole night's entertainment is on me. [takes another card] Monty Burns! [all cheer]

— Burns' moving speech, "Homer the Smithers"

Announcer: Welcome, welcome, welcome to an evening of exciting quarter-mile action, action, action! Our first race is a benefit for daredevil Lance Murdoch, Murdoch, Murdoch, who's hospitalized with cirrhosis of the liver, liver, liver! [crowd cheers] Homer: All right! Liver!

— Ask the connoisseur, "Homer the Smithers"

Burns: Smithers, this beer isn't working. I don't feel any younger or funkier. Smithers: I'll switch to the tablespoon, sir.

— As long as the bubbles don't burn your tongue, "Homer the Smithers"