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Oh, could you make sure not to scrape my asphalt? | Kiss my asphalt. |
Homie, please don't go. | Hey, this old girl's as sure-footed as a mountain goat. |
Ah, dying's not so bad. I'll be reunited with my loved ones. My dad... and that plant I never watered. | Barney! |
Homer, you saved my life and I'm not gonna forget it. From now on, we'll be partners. | Barney, that's great. When two best friends work together, not even God, Himself, can stop them. |
Hello, this is the Repo Depot. I'm just calling to distract you while we repossess your plow. | Oh yeah? How dumb do you think I -- |
He does not. | Maggie, can you say "daddy"? Dad-dy? |
Well, don't push her. Remember, "Tis better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to open your mouth and remove all doubt." | Takes one to know one! |
Tell it, Mom. Tell, it Mom. | Yeah, tell it, Mom. |
I miss-a da Klinger already. | WHEN THE WORKING DAY IS DONE / GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FU-UN / THAT'S ALL WE REALLY WANNNNT... |
Homer! | Homer is what grown ups call me. Call me Daddy. |
Homer. | Daddy. |
Homer. | Daddy. |
Da... da... da... | Ye-esss... |
Domer. | Why you little... |
Domer. | He'll tire himself out soon. |
Hi yo! | Heh, heh. Got your nose. |
Got your wallet. | Nooo! Bart, don't you ever do that again. Understand? |
Guess what, Homie... There's going to be twice as much love in this house as there is now. | We're gonna start doin' it in the morning? |
No. | Oh. |
We're going to have another baby. | Marge that's... |
I'm afraid we're going to need a bigger place. | No, we won't. I've got it all figured out. The baby can have Bart's crib and Bart can sleep with us until he's 21! |
Won't that warp him? | My cousin Frank did it. |
You don't have a cousin Frank. | He became Francine back in '76. Then he joined that cult. I think his name is Mother Shabubu, now. |
Once you get used to the smell of melted hog fat, you'll wonder how you ever did without it. | Mmmm. Hog fat. |
Just imagine what we can do with this place. | Wow. How much? How much? |
Well, here's what they're asking. | I can't afford that! |
Why'd you come to me. I don't know nothing. I used to get by on my looks. Now they're gone -- withered away like an old piece of fruit. | Are you done? |
No, not yet. I was voted the handsomest boy in Albany, New York. | Dad, I don't need advice, I need $15,000 to buy a home. |
Oh! Well, all I own is this house, that I built with my own two hands. | You didn't build this house. You won |
Oh! Well, all I own is this house, that I built with my own two hands. | it on a crooked '50's game show! |
All right, son. I'll sell this dump and write you a check. | Dad, first you gave me life, now you've given me a home for my family. I'd be honored if you came to live with us. |
So, how long before you shipped Grampa off to the old folks home? | About three weeks. |
Mommy. | Maggie I'll give you this cookie if you talk. |
Mommy. | What? What? |
Mommy. | All right, you win round seven. |
When are we going to get to my first word? | Your what-what? |
My first word. | Eh, you don't want to hear that story. I know! I'll tell you about the time I got locked in the bank vault with Mr. Mooney. It was another one of my hair-brained schemes. |
Daaad! | Wait a minute. That was a "Lucy" show... Okay, where were we? |
Mom was pregnant and Dad just threw our money down the sink hole. | Ah yes. I remember the day we moved in... |
Hey, Homer. This house sucks. | Bart, I told you not to use that word. Call me "Daddy." |
Buenos dias, neighboritos. The handle's Flanders, but my friends call me Ned. | Hi, Flanders. |
If you need anything, just give a whistle. | I could use a TV tray. |
Well, gee, I... | Whaat? |
I just this minute bought it at the hardware st... | You said, anything. |
Sure, you can borrow it for a little while. | And that "little while" is now eight years and counting. Heh heh heh. |
Bart, get out! | Not easy to juggle a pregnant wife and a troubled child, but somehow I managed to fit in eight hours of TV a day. |
Krusty funny. | Duh. |
Crib! Crib! I'm a baby! | All right, I know how to handle this. Just use a little reverse psychology. Let's go, Marge. Leave the baby with his little crib. |
Crib! Crib! I'm a baby! | Ah, Homer J. Simpson, you're a genius. |
Crib! Crib! I'm a baby! | I know you like clowns, so I made you this bed. Now you can laugh yourself to sleep. |
... The Americans are heavy favorites. | Patience, my pet. |
Homie... I think the baby's coming. | Wow. A baby and a free burger. Could this be the best day of my life? |
Coming up next, an hour-long episode of Mama's Family. | Yes! |
We'll take good care of your boy, Simpson. Enjoy the miracle of creation. | Shut up, Flanders. |
"Where's the beef?" What the hell's that supposed to mean? | "Where's the beef?" No wonder he won Minnesota. |
You people are pigs! I personally am gonna spit in every 50th burger. | I like those odds. |
Ouch! But first, let's go to the boxing venue. | Please, please, please, please, please... |
Davah Hassahoff. | Can you say "Daddy"? |
I'm sorry, Bart, you're too little. | Here, Bart, you can hold my beer. |
Homer! | What? |
Homer! | Goodnight, honey. |
And since we're returning your second born, do you think you could see your way to returning my TV tr... | Boy, you get over to the corner and you ... yeah. |
Wow! Lisa, can you say "Mommy"? | No, sweetie. "Daddy." |
Did too. | Y'know, Maggie, the sooner kids talk, the sooner they talk back. |
Did too. | I hope you never say a word. |
It's not good for your heart. | My heart is just fine... |
Homie, what is it? | Just workin' the turkey through. There it goes! |
Daaad! | You know that feeling you get when a thousand knives of fire are stabbing you in the heart? I've got that right now. Ooh... bacon! |
Homer, I prepared a special surprise just for you. | It could only be one thing. |
Here you go. | What the hell is this? |
Nice healthy oatmeal. | Ooh, oatmeal. What a delightful treat. Ugh, there's a bug in it. |
No there isn't. | Trust me. |
Dad, there's a bug on that. | Eh. |
It's your heart. And I think it's on its last thump. | Whew! I was afraid it was my transmission. |
Now don't worry, Homer. You're the kind of guy I could really dig. A grave for. Your indolence is inefficacious! | Huh? |
Clear! | More. |
Clear! | Thank you. |
Oh, Homie, I was so frightened. | Marge, my whole life flashed before my eyes. |
What a voice. Young Homer is going to make me a millionaire. | OH NI-IGHT, DI- Vine. Hey, my voice just changed. |
What a voice. Young Homer is going to make me a millionaire. | OH NIGHT, WHEN CHRIST WAS BORN... |
Mr. Simpson, I'm afraid you've just had a mild heart attack. | But I'm out of the woods now, right? I mean, whatever doesn't kill me can only make me stronger. |
Oh no, quite the opposite. It's made you weak as a kitten. Look! | Hey, c'mon, quit it. |
Coochy coochy coo! | Stop. Please stop. |
Oh, you swing like a girl. Come on, now. | Please, have mercy. |
Got your nose. | Not funny. |
How 'bout this little bee? | No! Remember your hippopotamus oath. |
Well, we can't fix his heart, but we can tell you exactly how damaged it is. | What an age we live in! |
Good lord. | Hi. |
Now Homer, this is a new body fat analysis test. I start you jiggling, and measure how long it takes to stop. | Woo hoo, look at that blubber fly. |
Homer, I'm afraid you'll have to undergo a coronary by-pass operation. | Say it in English, doc. |
You're going to need open heart surgery! | Spare me your medical mumbo jumbo. |
We're going to cut you open and tinker with your ticker. | Could you dumb it down a shade? |
Seventy dollars. | Hmm, have we deposited any forty-thousand dollar checks that haven't cleared yet? |
No. Don't you have health insurance at work? | Well actually, we gave it all up for a pinball machine in the lounge. |
Now before we give you health insurance, I have to ask you a few questions. | Questions? Questions? Oh gee, my whole scheme down the... I mean, ask away. |
Oh good. Now, under "Heart Attacks" you crossed out "3" and wrote "0". | Oh, I thought that said, "Brain Hemorrhages." |
Uh huh. And uh, do you drink? | I do enjoy a snifter of port at Christmas. |
All right. Here's your policy. | Now let me tell you something, Mr. Sucker... I just... |
Oh, hold on there, you still have to sign it. | Oh. I... |
Oh, hold on there, you still have to sign it. | Must... sign... policy... |
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