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Hip, hip hurray! Hip, hip hurray! | Please, you're embarrassing me. |
Dad, we've got to do something. | What can I do? I'm only one man. |
Lincoln was only one man. | Are you sure there wasn't a midget in his hat? I read an email that said there was. |
Look, as the Safety Salamander, you are beloved by all. And if you were the Mayor, we could make sure that only good people, like me, tell you what to do. | Hmmm. I will run for Mayor! |
And I will be your campaign manager! | And I'll find out what a Mayor does! |
And I will be your campaign manager! | Expand my brain, learning juice! |
Homie, you might score more points if you didn't wear that Salamander suit. You look like the mascot for some horrible Southern college. | Marge, without this outfit, I'm just Homer Simpson, multiple felon. With it, I'm a costumed hero like George Washington or Dame Edna. |
Homie, you might score more points if you didn't wear that Salamander suit. You look like the mascot for some horrible Southern college. | Today marks a new dawn for Springfield. This salamander is sitting on eggs labeled "elder care", "flex-time," and "downtown pedestrian mall." And those eggs are ready to hatch! |
Uh, what special powers would a salamander bring to the office of mayor? | Well, there's my X-ray vision, my fire breath... and I can get big laughs with tennis balls. |
Uh, what special powers would a salamander bring to the office of mayor? | Bloop, bloop, bloop. Bloop, bloop, bloop. |
Mr. Simpson, what about those photos of you strangling your child? | Why should we let this election be influenced by a photo taken hours ago? |
Mr. Simpson, what about those photos of you strangling your child? | Now, restaurant matchbooks for everyone! |
I, um, I don't feel so good, Blue. | Hey, people may not love Homer Simpson, but they love this suit. Just like they love their stupid American flag. |
What's that smell? | It's the smell of impending victory. |
Did you just vomit in that suit? | A little. |
Have you cleaned that suit once since you got it? | No, but I swam in it. |
I'd better wash that thing. It's hard to know where the suit ends and you begin. | But aren't you gonna have fun finding out? |
No! | That's weird. He started off as an egg. |
Sir, how would you restore our city's crumbling infrastructure? | That's an excellent question, Kent. First of all... |
Sir, how would you restore our city's crumbling infrastructure? | What the? It must have shrunk when my wife washed it! |
We're sick of you and your hatchlings! | Please, stop throwing fruit! |
Well, Dad, you tried to make this town a better place. And no matter what, that makes you my hero. | Aw, thanks. Now how 'bout a dance with your Daddy? |
Well, Dad, you tried to make this town a better place. And no matter what, that makes you my hero. | I can't believe I lost after Ben Affleck campaigned day and night for me. |
Yeah, I warned you about that. | Whups, be careful of my tail. |
You don't have a tail anymore. | I still feel it. It's so itchy. Itchy... |
You're Lisa's brother! | Hey! Nobody pushes around my precious bundle of joy! Whoops, wrong one. |
You're Lisa's brother! | I'll take that... Too slow, Drooly Joe... Peek-a-boo! I steal from you! |
Sir, you wanna set the baby down? Don't worry, I just want to talk. | Silly rabbit... kicks are for ribs! |
Tea? In the parlor? | You're like all Easter Bunnies -- can't take a punch to the crotch! Maybe next time you'll think twice before you volunteer to help children. Oh, hey Marge. |
This is my husband Homer. | Ladies. Marge, is there a small rip in my pants? |
Way to blow our tea, Marge. That's the last refrigerator magnet calendar you get from me! | We throw those out anyway. |
My husband... and my best friend! | It's a risk I'll have to take. |
We're on food stamps? | I wish. I made these at work. |
We're on food stamps? | Hmmm. I bet she'd be a good friend for Marge. She looks defeated too! |
We're on food stamps? | Psst. Psst! |
We're on food stamps? | Hey Marge, where you goin'? |
We're on food stamps? | Why does every woman I try to talk to run into cans? |
I'm going out for some air. | I bet you can't throw a cat over the house. |
For your information, I am now a junior member of the Cheery Red Tomatoes. | Marge... in a gang? What're you gonna do, shoot me with a frosting gun? Seriously, I would love that. |
Oh... uh... uh... bird watching. | Wait a minute... if she's going bird watching why did she leave our "Peterson's Field Guide to Birds" on the kitchen counter? |
Oh... uh... uh... bird watching. | Roadrunners are real! |
Idioto! Idioto! Idioto! | Now, let's see what Marge is up to. "Recipes," "dress patterns," "toaster undercoating agreement"... "Heist plans"! |
Idioto! Idioto! Idioto! | Burns' Mansion?! That's Mr. Burns' mansion! |
Why... you're all women! | I'm not! |
I suppose, but you're certainly buxom and flirty. | Oh, well... I try to have a good time. |
Oh, no jury on earth will convict a bunch of moist-eyed mothers. I'll tell you what, ladies, give me my eggs back and I'll let you go. | And tell me I'm not fat. |
Simpson! | Charge! I mean, yes sir?! |
I just bought a new car. A nice foreign number... the Lamborgotti Fasterossa. | A Lamborgotti Fasterossa? That's the car I think about when I make love to my wife. |
Yes, I need you to pick up my car at the factory in Italy, and ship it directly back to me. I'll save thousands in taxes! | You're sending me to Italy? |
Yes! | Can I take my family?! |
Sure. | Do I have to hang out with them? |
I think Dad may blow your cover. | That flag is mine! Don't mess with Texas! |
I think Dad may blow your cover. | Shock and Awe, losers! Shock and Awe! |
Ooh, marriage! | Now we have to drive it straight to Rome, where it'll be shipped to Mr. Burns in Springfield. |
Gee, I wish we could explore a little more of Italy. | Marge... are you encouraging me to be irresponsible? |
Why don't you encourage him to get us some health insurance? | Why you little... |
Dad, don't you want to turn around and see the tower? | Eh, there's a picture of it on my cup. |
When Mount Vesuvius erupted, people were overcome by volcanic ash so fast that they were frozen in whatever position they were in at the moment of their death. | Savages. |
We've passed the Ponte Vecchio bridge three times. I think we're lost. | Let me check the navigation system... |
We've passed the Ponte Vecchio bridge three times. I think we're lost. | It says that we should turn left at a fat chick in a tu-tu being fed by a midget. |
That's a DVD of a Fellini movie! | I get it -- the midget represents dwarves. |
Mozzarella! Parmigiano! Provolone! Pecorino! Gorgonzola! Fontina! Tallegio! Bocconcini! | Don't worry. We got the cheese insurance. |
It doesn't cover mortadella. | Nooooo! |
Maybe there's a mechanic in this Tuscan village. | Hey, do you know anything about fixing sports cars? |
Scusi? | It's a Lamborgotti Fasterosa XT 550 with ABS Sport Tech package. |
Ehhh... Americano? | Americano? What the Hell could that mean? Why can't you people learn to speak my language? I learned to eat your food! |
Hey, she says the mayor speaks English. | I honor you and your country. |
How did you wind up here? | Yes, tell us your story. But it better have a beginning, a middle and an end. And you'd better make us root for the protagonist. |
My tale begins after I had once again attempted to murder Bart... | Okay, so far I'm rootin' for ya. |
This is my bride, Francesca, and my son, Gino. | Holy moley! |
This is my bride, Francesca, and my son, Gino. | I always thought you were, you know, "out loud and proud." |
Well... I experimented in college, as one does. | Yeah, I never went to college. |
Bob, you haven't told your wife about all the terrible things you've done? | Yeah, I tell Marge everything! Not necessarily in words, but in body language -- you know, sneaking around and such. |
And literature is filled with tales of redemption, from Jean Valjean to the voice of Buzz Lightyear, Tim Allen. | All right, Bob. We won't tell your beautiful new family that you're a homicidal psychopath -- if you fix up our car. |
Dad, don't act like Mussolini! | I thought I was doing Donald Trump. |
Here's a cute fact. This sausage shop has been grinding the same family of pigs for six hundred years. | Prego? |
Here's a cute fact. This sausage shop has been grinding the same family of pigs for six hundred years. | I love you, Marge. |
I feel so sick. | It's called a hangover, sweetie. And it's an unavoidable part of life. |
Where is my roadster? You were due back a month ago! | Mr. Burns, we may be experiencing some technical difficulties. |
Dad, you're driving on an ancient Roman aqueduct! | What am I supposed to use it for -- transporting water to distant urban centers?! |
Dad, you're driving on an ancient Roman aqueduct! | Uh-oh. |
Dad, you're driving on an ancient Roman aqueduct! | Lazy Romans. |
Hey, Krusty's in an opera, here in Rome! He can save our lives! Come on, let's go! | Opera? They have that here too? |
Tell ya what, put on these costumes, go on the stage and mix in with the crowd scenes. He won't kill ya in front of all those witnesses. | Can I be the Phantom of the Opera? |
Dad, the Phantom isn't in this. | But I do a great impression of him. |
Dad, the Phantom isn't in this. | I am the gayest super-villain ever! Beware my scented candles! Oooooo, scented! |
That's Sideshow Bob! | I know, and he's magic! |
WHEN A WIFE LOOKS LIKE THAT / AND HER HUSBAND'S SO FAT, THAT'S AMORE! / WHEN SHE KISSES THAT JERK / WHILE I DO ALL THE WORK / THAT'S A... | Hey, knock it off. |
Where's Reverend Lovejoy? He's never been late for Christmas service. | Maybe he's cheating on us with the Episcopalians. |
Where's Reverend Lovejoy? He's never been late for Christmas service. | Look at 'em, with their bright, airy narthex and light, flaky Eucharist. I wouldn't mind dipping my hand in their font. |
Now there's no one to deliver the sermon! | Did anyone order a hero? |
Now there's no one to deliver the sermon! | Okay, Christmas, Christmas... you know how your paper boy always sends you a Christmas card with his home address on it? What's up with that? |
I wanted you to tip me! | No tip till they bring back Hagar the Horrible! |
That's not my decision! | Oh, it's never anybody's decision... anyhoo... I'd like to tell you all a little story I call "The First Christmas." |
Ohhh...! | I know, it's weird, isn't it? |
It's not over, it's just intermission! | I said we're free! |
'CAUSE CHRISTMAS EVE IS HERE! Oy! | I TOLD GRAMPA WE'D BE AWAY |
Merry Christmas, Homie. I think you're really gonna like this. | That's great! Now I'll just get my present for you. Which is... right outside the door. |
Merry Christmas, Homie. I think you're really gonna like this. | Oh my God, I forgot to get Marge a present! |
I knew you'd forget, so my gift to you is a gift for you to give me. | Oh, it's just what I wanted. Here, Marge, this is for you. |
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