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Aw, hey that's the guy what created him! If Homer had used some protection, we'd all be poopin' roses on easy street! | Hey, get off my case! He's the choke artist! |
Was there even a baseball game yesterday? I don't remember! | Marge, we were just talking about it a few seconds ago. |
Don't you have to get to your job as a mattress salesman? | Oh yeah, let's see where that goes. |
Yes, I need to be able to sleep through my wife's nagging, and my eight horrible babies and the anguished howls of my ancestors. | A common problem. Try this. |
Homer, please! They can hear you in fine china! | Relax. I'm a licensed mattress professional, if there were such a thing. And I've got the answer to your problems -- the Snugulux, by Matrimonium! |
Oooh, sold! | And remember: your most intimate secrets are safe with me. Okay, who else is dead in bed? |
We're here about the mattress. | What's wrong with it? |
We tried raising Cain but we weren't able. | Oh, I think I know what you're doing wrong. Have you tried... |
I know the mechanics of lovemaking, Homer! You owe us a refund! | I'll write you a check. |
If you let us have your mattress, we'll give you ours. | On one condition: you do the shlepping. |
Well, maybe if you go... | Wrong, wrong, wrong! |
I'm sorry, Homie -- I want to snuggle, but I'm just not feeling it. | Yeah... something has changed, but I can't figure out what. Our mattress! I traded it to the Lovejoys! |
You traded our mattress? I had my secret cash in it! | It was made for Elvis, but he found it tacky. |
You traded our mattress? I had my secret cash in it! | I can't believe a mattress could make that much difference... |
EVERY DAY, EVERY DAY, EVERY DAY, YAY, YAY... YAY! | Lousy Reverend. He's having my sex! While I'm at home with Marge not doing anything sexual or erotic. |
Homer, stop that. | Sorry. |
How dare you break into our house, defile our bed, and smash our family photos with your foot. | Well, excuse me, for being a powerful yet careless lover. |
Well, I am reminded of the story of wise King Solomon. | You would be. |
I wish he hadn't cut it that way -- it looks like a grilled-cheese sandwich. | Or a chicken club... or a Reuben... or a Monte Cristo... or a... Pull over behind that billboard! |
You really wanna make love on half a mattress behind a billboard? | It's like our honeymoon all over again. Aw, we even have the same bum looking at us. |
Where's your father with those pacifiers? | I couldn't find Maggie's brand, but I got every other kind I could find. How about "Syntho-Nip?" |
Where's your father with those pacifiers? | "Kiddy Cork?" "Thumbstitute?" "AccuTeat?" "Bink 182?" |
Where's your father with those pacifiers? | Wanna suck on the receipt? |
Larry Flynt? Larry Flynt? Larry Flynt? Larry Flynt? Larry Flynt? Larry Flynt? | Good work, boy. Just for that, we're gonna treat your heart murmur, not just "see how it goes." |
Larry Flynt? Larry Flynt? Larry Flynt? Larry Flynt? Larry Flynt? Larry Flynt? | Stupid baby... growing her brain... on my dime! |
Are you counting sheep all night long? | Mm-hm. |
Nappien activates your brain's napping centers, and attacks your body's awake-agens. And unlike Sleepia, it won't cause foot fattening or elbow stink. | Okay Nappien, do your stuff. |
Nappien activates your brain's napping centers, and attacks your body's awake-agens. And unlike Sleepia, it won't cause foot fattening or elbow stink. | It's not working! You lousy, worthless piece of-- |
Nappien activates your brain's napping centers, and attacks your body's awake-agens. And unlike Sleepia, it won't cause foot fattening or elbow stink. | What a wonderful night's sleep. Thank you methasorbizone tartrate, also known as Nappien. |
Homer, I think you dominoed this. | That's ridiculous. If I had set up those dominoes, I'd be wearing my special domino-setting up kneepads. |
It was you. | How is that possible? |
See? "May cause dry mouth, mood swings, and nighttime kookiness." | Mood swings?! Mood swings. Mood swings! |
See? "May cause dry mouth, mood swings, and nighttime kookiness." | Mood swings? Mood swings! Mood swings! Mood swings! Mood swings! Mood swings, mood swings! Mood swings! |
See? "May cause dry mouth, mood swings, and nighttime kookiness." | Nappien, you did it again! And everything is as it should be. |
See? "May cause dry mouth, mood swings, and nighttime kookiness." | John Lennon?! |
See? "May cause dry mouth, mood swings, and nighttime kookiness." | Yoko? |
Mr. Simpson, why did you hurt the dollies? | Well son, your Uncle Homer is, like eighty percent of America, whacked-out on prescription drugs. |
But users are losers. | You're confusing drugs with druuuuugs. |
Why don't you just quit taking the pills, you hophead? | Because I'm filled with stress! |
Why don't you just quit taking the pills, you hophead? | I have three kids and no money! Why can't I have no kids and three money? |
Hey zombie -- wanna come out and play? | Zombie kill. |
No, play! | Zombie file grievance. |
And that's only one of the cool things we're gonna do with him... | Zombie montage: |
C'mon, just one more. | What the?! My car?! Milhouse?! Nutmeat?! |
You've horribly injured the whole fire department! | What are you, a travel agent? 'Cause you're sending me on a guilt trip. |
That's just someone barbecuing. | Is that one? |
Sweetheart, come to dinner. | I can't! That fire siren could sound at any moment. |
That's the fire siren! | Woo hoo! |
That's the fire siren! | Marge, when you see me next I'll be a soggy, smoky hero. Mmm, soggy, smoky hero. |
Just come back alive, okay? | Don't tell me how to do my job! |
Hey, this is sweet, huh? Almost makes up for not gettin' paid. | We don't get what? |
Oooh, leather arms! People just give you this stuff? | Hey, it's the least they can do after we saved them from being melty-faced weirdoes. |
No, no, no, the complete "Munsters" on DVD! | I hope it's spaghetti! |
I can't believe he acted completely in character. | Lousy burns so ungrateful, I hate him so much... |
Gentlemen, I'd like to thank you. You've saved my store. | Well... most of it. |
Uh, well, your building will be fine, but unfortunately a lot of your merchandise was completely vaporized: high-end stereo equipment, size ten men's shoes... | And some stuff I wanted. |
Oh my, I didn't think the damage was that bad. But you must be telling the truth -- you're firemen, after all. | Yeah, we're awesome. This'll make a great toilet seat! |
Uh, gentlemen... I'm uh... I'm starting to wonder if we've crossed a line here. | Just what are you getting at? |
Just let the chemicals deal with it. | Look at me! I'm a fireman! |
Well, uh... | Look at me, guys! |
Well, uh... | I'm stealing five Segways at once! And speaking of segues, I'm off to my next morally questionable activity! |
You're nothing but a diabolical master thief. The kind that haunts the slopes of San Moritz or the casinos of Monte Carlo. | We're not thieves, we're scavengers! Like the beautiful vulture, or the heroic tapeworm, or America's sweetheart, the maggot. |
You should've seen the faces of your children when they caught you stealing. Kids, get in here and show your father the faces! | Make them stop! |
Oh no, wait, it's only four ninety-five. What's on your mind? | Moe, I think we may have perverted... |
What'd you do with all the loot? | We sent it to skid row where it would do the most good. |
Styrofoam? | You stuffed your horn?! |
Ooh, look! Pine-cone first ladies! | Where the hell is Abigail Adams?! Oh, there she is. Where the hell is Mary Todd Lincoln?! Oh, she's right there. Where the hell is Ida Saxton McKinley?! Oh I see. Where the hell is-- |
Dad, look, a corn maze! | "Betcha can't solve our maze?" I didn't come here to be insulted. We're leaving! |
Dad, look, a corn maze! | Sure is a lot of corn in this parking lot. |
Maybe we should split up. | Split up?! Marge, no! We can fix this marriage! |
No, no, I didn't mean-- | Fine, you want out? Then go! I can make it on my own! Before I met you I had friends and dreams! |
I was talking about-- | Oh please take me back. The dating scene is a nightmare. I'm begging you! |
I just meant we should split up to get out of this corn maze. | Deep down, I... I guess I knew that. |
Now there must be a way out! | Of our marriage?! I don't want to live! |
Now there must be a way out! | Hey, this maze is made of corn! |
Now there must be a way out! | I'm so sick of being lost. To hell with maze etiquette! I'm walking straight outta here! |
Now there must be a way out! | Dammit! |
That was never my plan. | I'm lost and I'm starving! |
Eat some corn! | I don't have any holders! |
This maze is too hard for me. | "To my wife Marge -- in case I don't make it, here are my Oscar picks for next year: Best Sound Effects Editing, the team from--" |
Santa's Little Helper would be an awesome police dog! Can he, Dad? Can he? | No. And never bring it up again. |
Please, can he? | All right. |
Homer! | Oh relax, Marge, I'm just messin' with ya. I know I'm not a dog. I'm a people, like you. |
I don't want a new dog. I want my old dog, the one who bit me. | Cheer up, boy. We'll get you their most vicious street cur! He'll bite your ass raw! |
Oh, no problem, pally -- our pythons cost five dollars a foot. | Whoa, whoa, whoa, we're not made of money! |
That's because I soaked him in slime! | Why you little... I'll teach you to trick your sister! |
Homer, can you breathe?! | Well, I can breathe out okay. |
Homer, can you breathe?! | Don't... give snake... attention... it's what... he really... wants. |
Homer, can you breathe?! | I'm okay. |
Whoa, this is the source of the stench! | Hey, get your own yogurt! |
Simpson, you can take your putrid mess far out of my sight, you songless land-whale! | Woo-hoo! Business trip! |
What about the fat guy? | Hey, lay off -- you're the fat one of you guys! |
I'm bulking up for football. | I'm still alive! You call that playing to win?! |
Oh, sweet mother of Mary! | Okay, Milhouse, what do you want to do? |
Well, the school's having a bake sale. | Ol' Betsy'll get us there. |
So true. | Cops! Act natural! |
So true. | Hello, Officer! |
Raisin cake! Who wants raisin cake? Don't worry, it's not too moist! | Can I have some more money? |
I gave you ten dollars. | All the other moms gave their husbands twenty. |
Well all the other husbands don't come home dirty from fighting. | I had to fight! Lenny said his dad is Hulk Hogan, and I know he's not! |
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