instruction stringlengths 1 496 | response stringlengths 1 472 |
|---|---|
Put my hand on her knee. | Yes, Mr. Burns. |
I said her. And I said knee. | Oh, sorry. |
I'm going to make such love to you that, oh, you'll forget all about Rudolph Valentino. Turn left here. | No problem. |
All right, you're dismissed. I'll take it from here. | But Mr. Burns, you're exhausted. |
Did you hear that? That "excellent" was... excellent. | Can I have some ice cream? I finished my pizza. |
Back in a moment, my dear. We have to, uh... uh... expel some urine. | You're going to ask her to marry you?! |
Isn't it wonderful? I'm head over heels in love. | Are you sure you wanna do this so fast? |
Monty! It's beautiful. | Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! |
My ring! | Let go of her or I'll scream! |
Uh-un. | Ohh... Geez, I just wanted to escape. |
Don't say that, baby. I'm gonna win you back if I have to pistol whip this guy all night. | Pistol whip?! |
Don't say that, baby. I'm gonna win you back if I have to pistol whip this guy all night. | Mmm... pistol whip. |
Let me guess. Now you're going to start working him over with the brass knuckles. You Are so predictable. | You know what would be surprising? A foot massage. |
Wow, you don't get it. | Um, has the ship sailed on my foot massage suggestion? |
I swear I can change, Gloria. I'm taking classes in computer fraud. | Hmm... |
I don't like bothering people at home. | Good fire. Good fire. Keep burning. Almost there. |
I don't like bothering people at home. | Just a little more. |
I know you've been through a lot, ma'am, but we need you to stand in front of the burning house and say "Channel 6 is hot, hot, hot." | Wow, Mr. Burns, how did you do that? |
Never forget, Homer, there's no muscle stronger than the human heart. | What about the wiener? A guy on TV lifted a can of paint with his. |
I don't get it, Simpson. I'm a bad boy. | Oh, I know. |
What do I have to do? Grow a devil beard? | You mean a Van Dyke? |
Burly. You're so rugged and manly... | Marge, a bee almost stung me today. I felt the wind go right by my ear. |
Fantasize, Marge. Fantasize about Burly. | Ooo, that's quite a hug, honey... |
Fantasize, Marge. Fantasize about Burly. | Hey, you're looking at that spokes-jack! Well I can fantasize too. |
Fantasize, Marge. Fantasize about Burly. | Ooo, Mama Celeste. |
"Dear Burly, comma, I've never written to a registered trademark before. Are you a real person, or just a composite, question mark? In either case, I would love a signed photo. Sincerely, Marge Simpson." | "Love"? "Signed photo"?! Marge hasn't asked me for a signed photo in months! Well I'll show her! |
Person-to-person?! | Hello. This is Chad Sexington, the model for Burly Paper Towels. |
How did you get my number? | I don't know. But I was quite moved by your letter. I'd love to meet you and your family. Shall we say dinner? |
Oh, my goodness... | Perfect. I'll be there at seven. |
Playing a prankeroo, eh? | I was having a private conversation with my wife, in the guise of Chad Sexington. Do you mind? |
You're not going to believe it. That paper towel lumberjack is coming here! For dinner! Tonight! | Tonight? Well, you better get your hopes up. |
Oh my God! | Why look, it's Chad Sexington! |
Now you've done it. You really humiliated Mom. | It was hard on me, too. I had to wear a suit. Oh, you're right. I've gotta make it up to her. |
I suggest dinner and a show. | How about Benihana, where dinner is the show? |
I suggest dinner and a show. | No, huh? |
Hey, smart move, four-eyes. Sittin' next to Skeletor here makes you look like Hercules. | Zing! What's a Skeletor? |
Is anyone here not a downer? Anyone? | Do me! Do me! |
Is anyone here not a downer? Anyone? | I am in your power. Boss me around. |
When I snap my fingers, you will transform into... a... famous historian. | Look at me, I'm a famous historian! Out of my way! |
Thank you. Now you are... Emily Dickinson. | Look at me, I'm Angie Dickinson! Out of my way! |
Now, you are a young boy... ah, yourself, at twelve years old... | I'm twelve years old... I'm with my friends. It's a beautiful summer day at the old swimming hole... Oh my God! |
Ah, yes, yes. Um... | Oh, that's better... |
ext. pimento grove night club - moments later) | Here you go. |
Well, is anything coming back to you? | Huh?... There have been so many classic Simpson moments. I remember that time I tried to jump over Springfield gorge... |
Try to remember back when you were twelve. Something frightening must have happened. | Hm, twelve... Well, I remember I used to go hiking a lot with these two guys. With these two guys. |
And there's your whatchamacall repressed trauma. I mean, who likes getting muddy? It's terrible. Okay, let's go to Moe's now. | Wait a minute. I remember falling in the mud, but I don't think that's why I've been screaming... |
Fine. Crap all over my theory. | Something else happened in that quarry... something... else... |
You found a corpse when you were twelve? No wonder you've been so traumatized. | It's responsible for everything wrong in my life -- my occasional overeating, my fear of corpses... |
Oh. Okay. Well, we'll just be going, then. | Oh, hey, you guys can come with us. |
Oh... Oh, okay. Well, uh, I'll see ya. | Bye, Moe. |
Stop saying that, Dad. | Never! |
Maybe we should come back in the daytime. | Someone's yellow belly is showing. |
Ah heck, it's just an old shopping cart. | And it's empty. Put it back! I don't wanna see it this way. |
It's the body! | And someone has eaten the flesh. |
With this film. | Ooh, a movie! I call the couch! |
Ha, busted! | Now the movie's turned into a play! Still good, though. |
Homer, shouldn't we give that skull to Mr. Smithers? | Why? He'd just bury it. |
Oh. Well, you wanna take a look at it anyways, uh just for ha-has? | Seems kinda pointless now. |
Okay, this is a number six from somebody's address. Or is it a nine? You don't know. Uh, this is gravel. Okay? Gravel. This is uh, that's more gravel. Okay, oh. This is a shell, that to me -- this is just me talkin', it looks like a helmet for a mouse... Now, that sounds crazy, right. But if you ask a mice about it, th... | Did you really make that envelope? 'Cause it says Hammermill over here. |
You know it is. | WHEN YOU HAVE A RIB-EYE STEAK / YOU MUST FLOSS IT / OH, THAT MEATLOAF TASTED GREAT / YOU MUST FLOSS IT / NOW FLOSS IT, FLOSS IT GOOD. |
Hey Dad, will you help me build this model rocket? | Just a second, son. I've gotta put on my contacts. |
I didn't know your dad was so interested in science. | Science!? |
Uh, he didn't say science... he said "pie pants." | Mmmm, pie pants. |
Uh, he didn't say science... he said "pie pants." | This is Launch Master Homer, counting down. Five, four, three... |
Uh, he didn't say science... he said "pie pants." | Two... one... |
Over here, Guv'nor. | The word "unblowupable" is thrown around a lot these days, but I think I can say with confidence... |
Over here, Guv'nor. | Okay, that shows you what could potentially happen. |
Over here, Guv'nor. | What was that? |
Wow, did you see that yaw control? | I have eyes, don't I? |
Wow, did you see that yaw control? | I would really like to thank you nerds for helping me out. |
Well, then, could you stop calling us nerds? | Dweeb, wonk, spaz... it's all good. |
Oh, that's sensible. | Son, we are about to break the surly bonds of gravity and punch the face of God. |
Oh, that's sensible. | Five, four, three, two, one... COUNTDOWN! |
Dad, the rocket's off course! | Okay Nibbles, you can guide her down. Step one: Right in front of you is a blue handle. Pull for a controlled burn of two point four seconds... |
Now it's headed for the church. | Don't worry, I planned for this. |
This is the worst thing you've ever done. | You say that so much it's lost all meaning. |
Why does Jesus have a lasso? | 'Cause he's all man. |
That's it! | Quiet, Lisa. Everyone in the store is looking at you! |
Oh no... | I don't know how to feel. |
You should be very upset. | Got it. |
You should be very upset. | How was that? |
Mom, Dad, my spiritual quest is over... | Hold that thought. Bacon up that sausage, boy. |
I'm a Buddhist. | Wha?! That's it. No more chat rooms for you. |
Just do it. Do it. Do it now! | I think this tree could use an angel. |
Just do it. Do it. Do it now! | It's go time. |
Well, Santa can take it back because I'm not ruled by material desi-- Is that a pony? | I don't know what Santa left you. I just know his name is Clip-Clop and he loves sugar. |
More sugar, please. | Bag's in the kitchen. |
Yeah, I wanted to spend Christmas with you guys. | So you're back on the winning team? |
Uh huh. | That's all I ever asked. |
Oh. We'd better stay inside. At least until the squirrels stop melting. | No problem. There's plenty of activities inside. |
He smelled like puke! | The TV! |
He smelled like puke! | Quit trying to control me. |
Hey, where'd they go? | New shooter. |
That's it, baby. Welcome to Marvin Gardens. | Oh, we'll see about that. |
That's it, baby. Welcome to Marvin Gardens. | One, two, three. |
You're a little light here, Dad. | I'm good for the rest, you know I am. |
Well, I'd like to trust you, Homer. But you've been in jail three times. | They told me it would be like this on the outside. |
Who else is gonna take care of her? Dad? | Why you little... |
And we carried it out as a family! | Police brutality! And chew-tality! |
Take it back! Take it back! | Stanford. |
Subsets and Splits
No community queries yet
The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.