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Homie, I got you something to read on the plane. | A book? |
Homie, I got you something to read on the plane. | Oh, the cereal's just a metaphor. |
It's a book about management, and Lee Iacocca says it's "definitely, dot dot dot useful." | Thanks, sweetie. I've never been less angry to receive a book. |
Hello? | Lisa! It's me! I'm in trouble! |
Calm down, Dad. What happened? | A cow took my iPod and I punched it! |
No. | Are you Kavi? |
Yes, oh, you must be Mr. Homer! | Finally. |
Classic. Now, tell them how to run a nuclear plant! | Uh... duh... uh... um... uh... duh... Did I say "um"? |
Dad, I've gotta write a report on the Great Lakes. | Just outsource it to Lisa. Outsourcing is the answer to everything. |
I think he's in the house! | Outsourcing! |
Simpson, I don't know how you're doing it, but you're outputting ten times the power our American plant ever did. | Well, a little book once told me... |
Simpson, I don't know how you're doing it, but you're outputting ten times the power our American plant ever did. | "...having only one pancake leaves room for more bacon." |
I see what you're saying. We're crowding your plate. In fact, there's no need for us to be here at all. Let's go, Smithers. | You're giving me absolute power?! |
Actually, in our system of belief, there are many gods. | Hmmm, let's see. You got the Elephant Man, Johnny Six-Arms, Papa Smurf... these guys are pretty cool. Maybe I am one of them. If only I had some kind of proof. |
Actually, in our system of belief, there are many gods. | I won a free soda! I am a god! |
We thought maybe you would like to see some of our globetrotting adventures. | I am a God! I know all! |
A-bom-shabai! A-bom-shabai! A-bom-shabai! A-bom-shabai! | Silence! Now for my amusement, let the monkey fight the elephant. |
Homie, stop! You're not a God! | Marge? |
Oh yeah? What's Mom's birthday? | It's... um... Jannnn... Febbbb... Marrr... |
It's May! | May firrr... seconnn... thirrr... |
I'm proud of you, Dad. You're the first man to ever outsource the American worker's sense of entitlement and privilege. | Well, I'm just glad I'm not a god anymore. I wanna go home. How's Chief Wiggum? |
He was gravely wounded in a bank shootout. | Yeah, he's funny. |
When is our food gonna get here? I'm starved. | I'm so bored, I figured out where the wallpaper pattern repeats. |
When is our food gonna get here? I'm starved. | See, it goes: ship's wheel, Popeye tattoo, Gilligan hat, fish with boobs... and back to ship's wheel. |
What about this swordfish? | My life's work ruined. |
Finally, we shall bid goodbye to England and its drunken, decadent sinners. | Outta my way, you God-fearing Buckleheads! |
Finally, we shall bid goodbye to England and its drunken, decadent sinners. | Hide me! |
Finally, we shall bid goodbye to England and its drunken, decadent sinners. | Please, you've gotta help me! If they find me they'll kill me. |
Mother, we must protect him. Look, he's praying. | Oh Lord, please let the soldiers kill this family instead of me. |
And I will make thee a hat from construction paper! | So, thou art a widow, eh?! Then the codpiece holds no terrors for thee. |
Good sir, I do not approve of your fleshly gaze. | Oh baby... |
I see you met our devout leader, Ned Flandish. | Stupid Flandish. Uh, listen, since all the other fun stuff is out of bounds, how 'bout a little Bible-thumping in the crow's nest? What do you say, Miss... |
Now I gotta warn ya, even for this day and age, I'm considered a bad husband. | She's gonna marry him 'cause he wears boots instead of blackening his feet. |
Well, I'm sure the way to win her heart is to be fat and crying. | Why thee little... |
Perhaps thou wouldst make a good father! | May I escort you to the railing? |
Stop callin' it that! | What-ever. |
Homer, I can't believe I was thinking of letting you touch my elbow through a cloth! | But baby, a man has needs. |
Witch! Witch! Witch! | People, this is madness! We can burn the witch later! Right now, I've got to save this ship! |
Witch! Witch! Witch! | Hey, I've been driving drunk since I was twelve! But first...who's gonna help me pee? |
They're looking at me 'cause I have the key to the stocks. | Don't worry, Marge. I'll see to it you fundamentalist Christians live to take over all America by the twenty-first century! |
At least I'm pitching! | Land ho! |
Who else has a story? | I do! |
I'll be fetchin' yer food right away. Six more games. | Well, I guess we have time for my tale of moist adventure. It takes place in a dark time for mankind when madness and ignorance ruled: "the nineteen seventies." |
Goin' out with a sight gag. Nice. | I've got an idea: climb into my mouth. |
Goin' out with a sight gag. Nice. | Nooooo! |
Goin' out with a sight gag. Nice. | Catch me, Flanders! |
Homer, the ship's upside down and hundreds of people are dead! | ...three... two... one... Happy New Year! My resolution is to be more fun! |
Homer, what should we do? | Uh, gimme a second, I'm in the bathroom. |
Homer, what should we do? | What? I have great ass suction. Now how 'bout a little privacy? |
Homer, what should we do? | My keys! |
I've tied it off. You're all going to make it. Tell the world... that I saved you all. | Don't tell me what to do. |
Dad, taking the family to opening night is the nicest thing you've ever done for us. | Or will ever do. |
I can't wait to see this re-imagining of Itchy and Scratchy... by avant-garde director Juliana Krellner! | Hey, it says here "the book" was written by Tom Stoppard. This isn't a book, it's a play! Book. |
AND DYNAMITE IGNITING! | Hey, check it out, I'm Scratcher or something. |
Why, a woman invented liquid paper. | Well, you know what a man invented? Actual paper. |
Well, a woman also invented the windshield wiper. | Which goes great with another male invention -- the car. |
Um... I-I think a woman came up with nylon stockings. I mean, probably. We certainly use them. | Let's see, men also have: rocket ships, suspension bridges, constitutional government, snow shoes, brass knuckles... |
Mom, I don't think this will fool anybody. | Hey, who's the rude dude with the attitude? |
He's one of Bart's friends. | You seem cool. Wanna catch a movie? |
You never take our kids to the movies. | Let's not fight in front of my cool new friend. |
I don't know. I'm still frowny with you. Do you really think women are mentally inferior? | Well, uh... uh... Honey, you're just as smart as a man. Sometimes when I'm with you, I feel like I'm doing it with a dude. |
Well, then we're gonna leave you one digit short. | Fine! I'll finish it myself. And don't think I'm gonna screw it up, because I won't! |
Dad, all you had to do was paint one number. Now no one's gonna be able to find our house. | But sweetie, I just wanted to tell the '74 Oakland A's how I felt about them. |
Hey Sal Bando, give him a '74 A's "thank you honk." | My work here is done. |
I have a delivery for a Scott and Brenda Weingarten, Seventy-four Evergreen Terrace. | Seventy-four? Oh sorry, there's been a mistake. |
Oh, no problem -- I'll just ship these juicy mail-order steaks back to Omaha. | On second thought, I am Brenda Wine cooler. |
Dad, isn't it wrong to open or eat other people's mail? | Son, all our mail has ever brought me is bad things: bills, jury duty, Entertainment Weekly. Now, for once, I'm getting' rich-person mail. You wouldn't take that away from me, would you, son? |
Oh Dad, no one can rationalize like you. | Okay Weingartens, what else is in your mail? |
Oh Dad, no one can rationalize like you. | Ooh! Marge, you wanna go to a wedding of a couple we never met? |
I'm scared, people. Truly scared. | Take that, liberal media. |
"A highly skilled professional will come to your home, and clean it top to bottom while you relax." But how could I have won? I don't subscribe to this periodical. | Marge, I don't have to sit here and listen to your insane ravings about me getting other people's mail. |
It's hard to say. With retrograde amnesia such as this, the patient can forget years and years of her life. You just have to keep jogging her memory till it works. | Jogging?! |
I didn't say you should be jogging. | Sweet! |
Although you should be jogging. | Jogging? |
Oh, you're sweet. I'm lucky to have such a kind... Uncle? | I'm your husband! |
Wha--?! | I am! We're the same age! |
But you're so much more... ravaged than I am. | I do eat a lot of crap. |
I may have lost my memory, but I'm not an idiot. | Great news, Marge -- we're goin' home. |
Oh it's great. Like somebody barfed a two-story pile of puke. | Why you little... |
You strangle your child? | Yeah, but he's cool with it. Right? |
It hurts when I swallow. | Why you little... |
Who are those freaks? | Those "freaks," as you call them, are some of our closest friends. |
I know what the sun is. | Yes, now you do. |
It's so great to have my children back. | I'd better get ready -- I'm next! |
It's so great to have my children back. | All right, Marge... time to remember Admiral Awesome! |
Nope. I'm sorry, Admiral, but you're still a stranger to me. | Why do you remember them and not me? |
I'm sorry. You seem like... a colorful character, but I just don't remember you. | Well, maybe if we snuggle, it might rattle some memories loose. |
What's snuggling? | When a man and a woman love each other very much, they-- |
Mr. Simpson, I don't even know you -- I'm not making love with you! | But what if we... |
You're describing how to parallel park. | You used to love my non sequiturs! |
We've got to tell Dad! | Oh no, Bart and Lisa are gonna tell me something horrible! |
Mr. Simpson? | Marge, if I can't make you remember me, then I'll make you fall for me all over again. |
Mr. Simpson? | The heart is the symbol for love. |
THAT HOMER SIMPSON / HE'S QUITE A GUY / HE PAID ME TEN BUCKS / SO I WOULD LIE / THE TRUTH IS / HE'S NOT SO GREAT / HE IS THE ONE MAN / I TRU-LY HATE... | So beautiful. I wish I could understand Italian. |
I've had a lovely evening, Mr. Simpson. | Just wait. We're coming to the site of our most romantic night ever! |
No! I'm not the kind of girl who makes love on a putt-putt golf course! | Oh you loved it -- especially when the windmill came around and whacked your but. |
That sounds horrible! | No, it was the happiest night of my life! The warm Spring air, the swings I took in the batting cage afterwards... Don't you remember, darling? |
I'm sorry you have to leave. But I just can't think of another way. | I know. Wait, I thought of another way: I stay! |
Look at this garden of F's. You planted them all! | Marge, I realize you've made up your mind, and I want you to know that I deeply respect your boo! |
That works for hiccups, not amnesia. | I know. I just thought maybe... boo! |
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