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One, stick to Springfield. If I catch you on my turf, I'll rip off your head, vomit down your neck, pull out your heart, show it to your head, then shove 'em both down your neck hole, to which I previously alluded. | ...which I previously alluded... Are there two "l's" in "alluded"? |
Rule two, always keep your hook pointed out. | Why? What happens if I point it this way? |
Stop! Stop! I'm entitled to park there. | Really? What's your handicap? |
What the Hell are you doinG?! | I'm doing my job! |
What the Hell are you doinG?! | You're hovering over a hydrant! |
Huh? | I'm buying a round of the fanciest drink you got. |
With those jerks out of the way, I was able to park right outside! | Outside? That's a one-hour parking zone -- and you've been here a good eighty-one minutes. |
Homer, where have you been? | Marge, when you're married to a midnight towboy, you might not see him for days on end. |
I don't want to live like that. | Hey, when you married a man who would, years later, without warning, become a tow truck driver, you knew what the deal would eventually be. |
Well, no one's disputing that. | Guess what, boy. Last night I towed your principal's car. |
Top of the mornin', Tow-mer! | It's Homer, idiot. |
So it is! I'm just here to pay the fine for the Sunday School bus. You towed it with the kids still in it! | I guess I'm more powerful than God now. |
You know what they say: "With great power comes great responsibility." | Who said that? I'll kill them with my power! |
I told you to stay off my turf! | What? I'm still in Springfield. |
I told you to stay off my turf! | Okay, I made a mistake. Why don't you give me two demerit points in a point system we work out right now? |
Goodbye. | I thought we were friends! I was kidding you in a friendly fashion! |
We're just like you -- tow truck drivers who got greedy. | Is Louie keeping you prisoner here? |
The truth is, we're just waiting for each others' hair to grow so we can braid it. | Okay, I get it. I'm not stupid. It's number two, right? |
Dad? Where are you? | Do not worry. I am working. |
Working? Where? | Ask no questions. And do not call the police, or I will kill me. |
You sound weird. | All is well. Goodbye forever. |
Oh, that's great. / Great story... | Okay, we've got time for one more. |
Homie! You're all right! | Thanks to her! |
Well, I have to look good for tomorrow. | Right... tomorrow. |
Well, I have to look good for tomorrow. | Think. Think. |
Well, I have to look good for tomorrow. | You have to think, it's your job! |
Well, I have to look good for tomorrow. | Why you little... |
You have to be there -- you miss way too many precious moments in the children's lives. | What?! Name twelve. |
Homer, you cannot miss Lisa's big day. And you have to come sober! | American sober or Irish sober? |
Point zero eight sober. | Point one five. |
Point zero nine. | Point one oh with a stomach full of bread. My final offer. |
Deal. | Goodnight, sweetheart. |
And now the reason we're all here today... Lisa Simpson! | Oh, hello, Marge. I'm at the most important event of our daughter's life, and you're totally late. Am I disappointed? Yes. Am I surprised? No. |
Homer! I'm a hostage in a bank robbery. | What?! Oh my God, my sweet Margie! Okay, listen very carefully: don't do anything they say, remain panicky, and above all, try to be a hero. |
Worse than Scuzzo, Scummo, Oopsie, Carlos Mencia, Stinko, Blumpy... even worse than Sergeant Serious! How could I do worse than him?! I stole all his jokes! | Chief, you gotta do something -- my current wife is in there! |
I just want to go home. | You have a new home now... with us. |
You're disgracing America's pastime. You should be ashamed of yourself... what the...? | You don't owe him anything. Moe was in the hospital for three weeks and I didn't visit him once. |
You said you visited him every night. | Moe the tavern, not Moe the person. |
Dwight, that was the most unselfish thing I've ever seen. I'm sorry I didn't visit you before. | Hey Marge, look at us -- the four amigos! They're gonna let me do some odd jobs for them on the outside. |
You see, the problem is, we've grown apart. | The problem is, you don't share my interest in not being with you. |
Greetings, Two Forty-One. | Why does he always bring up my weight? |
I want you to eliminate this reporter: Kent Brockman. He found the gully where I dump electricity every summer to jack up prices. | Don't worry, sir. I'll handle this cleanly, quietly and Bart! |
Well I won't be home either. I'm, uh... flipping over wheelbarrows in case it rains. | Have fun at your crazy-sounding thing. |
Ninth floor -- assassin's perch. | Now all I have to do is think of a clever line before I pull the trigger. Oh, that's a perfect one. But I don't need to say it out loud, 'cause I'm by myself. |
Ninth floor -- assassin's perch. | Out of my way, mystery skank! |
Ninth floor -- assassin's perch. | Hey! Now I don't get paid! |
You just can't get Russian gangster blood out. Must be something they eat. | Hey, what's that? |
How was your night? | Great, great -- I turned over so many wheelbarrows... Wait, that was your thing. |
Homie, I made you my "killer" lasagna. | Seconds, please. |
Homie, I made you my "killer" lasagna. | I'll kill her after dessert! |
You're a killer for hire! | You ruined that pie! |
How could you not tell me you were an assassin? | How could you not tell me? |
I told you twenty times! You never listen! | Well, they're not as pretty as you, Marge. |
Listen, I... | Okay, here's the deal, I'll do the killing for hire, and you stay home with the kids. |
I get fifty thousand dollars a hit -- how much do you make? | I just get to keep whatever's in the guy's wallet. |
All those nights I thought you were out getting drunk, you were out killing people?! | I was out getting drunk, then killing people! |
Stop it! That's my favorite couch! | Why do you think I'm kicking it? |
It sounded like you were. | Hey, who wants ice cream in bed? |
Great. Now they're gonna have tummy aches tomorrow, and where will "super dad" be then? | At your funeral. |
I would have taken a bribe! | Oh, that was so hot! I love watching you do other guys! |
I'd like to see you do a guy sometime. | That can be arranged. |
WE'LL BE KILLING EVERY HUMAN IN TWO DAYS / WE'LL BE KILLING EVERY HUMAN IN TWO DAYS / WE WILL COOK THEM / WE WILL EAT THEM / 'CAUSE THAT'S THE WAY TO TREAT THEM... | Oh Ma-arge! Want some com-pany? As always, silence means yes. |
WE'LL BE KILLING EVERY HUMAN IN TWO DAYS / WE'LL BE KILLING EVERY HUMAN IN TWO DAYS / WE WILL COOK THEM / WE WILL EAT THEM / 'CAUSE THAT'S THE WAY TO TREAT THEM... | How about a little neck rub, baby? |
WE'LL BE KILLING EVERY HUMAN IN TWO DAYS / WE'LL BE KILLING EVERY HUMAN IN TWO DAYS / WE WILL COOK THEM / WE WILL EAT THEM / 'CAUSE THAT'S THE WAY TO TREAT THEM... | Now, how 'bout the neck of my butt... |
WE'LL BE KILLING EVERY HUMAN IN TWO DAYS / WE'LL BE KILLING EVERY HUMAN IN TWO DAYS / WE WILL COOK THEM / WE WILL EAT THEM / 'CAUSE THAT'S THE WAY TO TREAT THEM... | Oh Marge, your tentacles feel so good. Wait a minute... why am I getting words in edgewise? |
Kodos the Destroyer! | Don't worry, son -- I've got a plan to save your space doggy. |
Open this door at once! | Oh, I'm not decent. Let me throw something on! |
Open this door at once! | Can I help you, gentlemen? |
We know it's you, Mr. Simpson. Now where's the alien? | Wow, you guys are good. The alien's right here in the living room. |
Bart... friend? | Homer -- bored! |
Definitely -- especially if you count the inside flap as part of the cover. It usually gives you a great idea of what the book's about. | Quiet -- we're missing the dissection! |
Actually, I'm still alive, so technically it's vivisection. | No one likes a know-it-all. |
Excuse me, but this is not good! | Oh, lighten up. It's Halloween -- a night for mischief and merriment. |
I've got something that will scare the H-E-double sippy straws out of them. | Hold still! I'm trying to eat my way out from the inside! |
Sloth! | Hm, I thought I was killed by that magic spaghetti! |
There's a bee on Maggie! | Okay Maggie, just calmly and carefully back away. |
There's a bee on Maggie! | Beehive! |
There's a bee on Maggie! | Blueberries! |
Cool. | Way to go! Many happy returns. |
Homer! The wedding's in twenty minutes! Just pick a tie! | There are so many choices. Bolo? Clip on? Piano keys? Ten Commandments of Beer? |
Homer! The wedding's in twenty minutes! Just pick a tie! | The cornerstones of the Brewish faith. |
Why don't you wear a tie that goes with my eyes? | And what color would that be? |
You don't know what color my eyes are? | Of course I know! |
No peeking. I'm wai-ting. | Uh... |
You really don't know, do you? | Is "beautiful" a color? |
No. | Marge, give me a break! I don't notice the color of people's eyes! I just judge them on the color of their skin. |
Little help? | Spaz. |
But why do all your bedtime stories have commercials in them for the container store? | Because if I do it enough, maybe they'll start to pay me. |
But why do all your bedtime stories have commercials in them for the container store? | Sleep tight. The Container Store now has five convenient locations! |
And until they do, you can stay here. | And we'll move your bedtime to an hour later so you'll have more time to be alone with your thoughts. |
Who is it? | Hey come on, why don't you cheer up with a glass of Ocean Spray? Oh boy -- forget that. How about some... Cap'n Crunch? Uh, Seven Seas Italian dressing? No, no! Uh, Chicken of the Sea tuna? Billy Ocean CD? The history of Atlantic Records? |
Then go to Moe's! | Good idea. I'll drown my sorrows in Anchor Steam Beer! Oh, I'm sorry! |
I can't be a baby anymore. I'm alone now. I have to be a man! Thanks, Mags. | Where is it? |
I can't be a baby anymore. I'm alone now. I have to be a man! Thanks, Mags. | I gotta find out what color Marge's eyes are. |
I can't be a baby anymore. I'm alone now. I have to be a man! Thanks, Mags. | Cha-ching! |
I can't be a baby anymore. I'm alone now. I have to be a man! Thanks, Mags. | Oh Marge darling, what's the combination to our wedding album? |
If he could go back to being happy, I could go back to being cool. | Boy, stop talking to yourself! |
Well, well, look who's strollin' down Alzheimer Avenue. You used to know everything about that wife of yours. Even wrote a song about her. | A song? Wait, it's coming back to me. |
Well, well, look who's strollin' down Alzheimer Avenue. You used to know everything about that wife of yours. Even wrote a song about her. | THE GIRL I LOVE'S GOT BEAUTIFUL HAIR / A BLUE BOUFFANT FROM HERE TO THERE |
Well, well, look who's strollin' down Alzheimer Avenue. You used to know everything about that wife of yours. Even wrote a song about her. | SNOW WHITE TEETH AND LIPS SO RED / SHE'S THE WILMA TO MY FRED |
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