instruction stringlengths 1 496 | response stringlengths 1 472 |
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Okay. | Okay. |
This was a really nice night, Homer. | Yeah, yeah. |
What's wrong? | Oh yeah. Like you don't know. We're gonna have sex. |
Oh... well, we don't have to. | Yes we do. The cookie told me so. |
Well, desserts aren't always right. | But they're so sweet. |
Homer, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. | Well, maybe I want to. But then I think about Marge and the kids well not the boy, he drives me nuts. Sometimes I'd just like to... |
Hey, there's a turkey behind the bed. | Mmmm... Marge. |
Dad, you shouldn't wear glasses that weren't prescribed for you. | Lisa, just because you're ten feet tall doesn't mean you can tell me what to do. |
This could be a whole new beginning for Springfield. | And you know what the best part is? We've really done something for the children. |
Dad, what do you think? | Shhh. I'm trying to teach the baby to gamble. |
Why? | I got a job at Burns' casino. As you know, it's been my lifelong dream to become a blackjack dealer. |
Hey! I said bug off! | Uh, let's see... 18... 27... 35. Dealer busts. Looks like you all win again. |
Yee ha! Homer, I want you to have my lucky hat. I wore it the day Kennedy was shot, and it allllways brings me good luck! | Why thanks, Senator! Oop, looks like my shift is over. |
Hi, Homie. | Hey, Marge, after your big tantrum against legalized gambling, I bet it feels pretty weird to be in a casino. |
I was for the casino! | Strike three, Marge. I remember that meeting, and I have a photographic memory. |
For you. It's the President. | Y'ello? |
For you. It's the President. | And then I said to the president... get this Marge? Marge? |
Definitely have to leave the table. | No! Please, please, please, please, please... |
Gotta watch Wapner. Leave the table. Yeah, leave the table. | No! |
Ewww! | Marge, you waited for me. |
I'll catch up to you. | Marge, I'm taking the car. |
I'll walk. | This late? Through the bad neighborhood? |
Yeah. | Marge... |
Go home. You're bad luck! | Wait. I see what's happening here. You're just mad because everyone in this town loves gambling except for you. Well, that's just sad. |
There's nothing to eat for breakfast. | You've gotta improvise, Lisa. Cloves, Tom Collins Mix, frozen pie crust. |
Maybe Mom just doesn't realize we miss her. We could go down to the casino and let her know. | Ah, come on, Lisa, there's no reason to... Let's go see Mom. |
I won sixty dollars last night. | Woo hoo! Problem solved! |
Mommm! | Huh? Wuh? Lisa? What's up? |
I just had a bad dream. | Aw, sure... you just lie down and tell me all about it. |
Well, I know it's absurd, but I dreamed the Boogeyman was after me and he's hiding... | Boogeyman?! You nail the windows shut! I'll get the gun! |
Well, I know it's absurd, but I dreamed the Boogeyman was after me and he's hiding... | Bart, I don't want to alarm you, but there may be a Boogeyman or Boogeymen in the house! |
What happened here? | Oh, nothing, Marge. Just a little incident involving the Boogeyman. Of course, none of this would've happened if you'd been here to keep me from acting stupid. |
Thanks, Mom. | Aw. Just like on TV. |
Dad, Mom said she'd be home to help me with my costume, and she's not and the Geography Pageant is tonight. | Lisa, your mom still loves you. It's just that she has a career, now. She's a slot jockey. |
But Dad, if I don't show up in a rubber suit shaped like the state of Florida, I'll be the laughing stock of the whole school. | It's always something isn't it? First, I have to drive your pregnant mother to the hospital so she can give birth to you, and now this. |
But Dad, if I don't show up in a rubber suit shaped like the state of Florida, I'll be the laughing stock of the whole school. | Ow...ow...ow...ow. |
But Dad, if I don't show up in a rubber suit shaped like the state of Florida, I'll be the laughing stock of the whole school. | Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow! |
Dad! | Oh yeah, the costume. |
Dad! | Hello, Floreeda. |
I'm not a state, I'm a monster! | No, Lisa. The only monster here is the gambling monster that has enslaved your mother. I call him Gamblor. And it's time to snatch your mother from his neon claws. |
Think before you say each word. | You broke a promise to your child. |
What? | You promised Lisa to help her with her costume. You made her cry, then I cried. Then Maggie laughed. She's such a little trooper. |
Lisa's costume. Homer, I didn't realize. I'm so sorry. | Marge, I want you to admit you have a gambling problem. |
You know, you're right, Homer. Maybe I should get some professional help. | No no, that's too expensive. Just don't do it anymore. |
That's true. Will you forgive me? | Oh sure... Remember when I got caught stealing all those watches from Sears? |
Homer, when you forgive someone, you can't throw it back at them like that. | Aw, what a gyp. |
Homer! | Oh yeah. I forgot already. |
Wake up, Dad! Wake up! There was a burglar and he took my saxophone. | Woo hoo! |
And my necklace. | Eh, that's no big loss. |
Homer! That necklace was a priceless Bouvier family heirloom. | Oh, you've probably got a whole drawer full of 'em. |
Bart's pain is funny, but mine isn't. That saxophone was my one creative outlet. It was the only way I could truly express myself. | Shhh, quiet Lisa. |
Homer, tell your child what you bought when I sent you to town to get some insurance. | Curse you, Magic Beans. |
Oh, stop blaming the beans. | Hello, police? Are you sitting down? Good. I wish to report a robbery! |
Ow, my jugular! Any questions? | Let me check my reason list. |
Ow, my jugular! Any questions? | Yep. It's on here. |
And don't take candy from strangers. | Marge, they're only human. |
What's the point of all these precautions? I've already lost the only thing that matters to me. | Oh Lisa, stop pining for your saxophone. I got you another instrument. |
What, this jug? | Lisa, never, ever stop in the middle of a hoe-down. |
Thank you. | You know Lisa, music helps daddy think. |
Yeah! Someone else! Someone else! Someone else! | I'm someone else! |
He's right! | We don't need a thinker, we need a doer. Someone who'll act without considering the consequences. |
I'll join! I'm filled with piss and vinegar. At first I was just filled with vinegar... | Sorry, Dad. You're too old. |
And a fine job ye did too! | Aw, Dad, you've done a lot of great things, but you're a very old man now, and old people are useless. Aren't they? Aren't they? Huh? Yes they are. Yes they are... |
I don't think the guns are a good idea, Homer. | Marge, we're responsible adults and... |
Oops. | ... and if a group of responsible adults can't handle firearms in a responsible way... |
So, wedding, huh? | No, we're forming a vigilante group. |
Radiant cool crazy nightmare. Zen New Jersey nowhere. | Put this in your pipe and smoke it. |
How now brown bureaucrats. | Woo Hoo! Woo hoo hoo hoo! |
How now brown bureaucrats. | Woo hoo, hoo! Take that Maynard G. Krebs! |
Hey, see this sign? | Sorry. |
Hey, see this sign? | Okay, men, it's time to clean up this town. |
Meaning what exactly? | You know, push people around, make ourselves feel big. |
Meaning what exactly? | Bart, give me that megaphone of yours. |
It's not just a megaphone, Dad. It's a RapMaster 2000. | Never mind the commercials. Just give it to me. I've got to whip this neighborhood into shape. |
It's not just a megaphone, Dad. It's a RapMaster 2000. | Move along there. |
It's Hammer! | Return to your homes and places of businesses! |
It's Hammer! | Hey you, where'd you get that saxophone? |
Sears. | Get him! |
I got one. | Too late. |
I got one. | You better have a good reason for doing that, boy. |
It makes me feel like a big man. | You're in. Here's the sack. |
Dad, don't you see you're abusing your power like all vigilantes? I mean, if you're the police, who will police the police? | I 'unno. Coast Guard? |
And I still don't have my saxophone. | Lisa, the mob is working on getting your saxophone back, but we've also expanded into other important areas. |
And I still don't have my saxophone. | Literacy programs... preserving our beloved covered bridges... world domination... |
World domination? | Oh, that might be a typo. |
Mr. Simpson, how do you respond to the charge that petty vandalism such as graffiti is down 80 percent, while heavy sack beatings are up a shocking 900 percent? | Aw, people can come up with statistics to prove anything, Kent. Forty percent of all people know that. |
I see. Well, what do you say to the accusation that your group has been causing more crimes than it's been preventing? | Oh, Kent, I'd be lying if I said my men weren't committing crimes. |
Hello, Kent. Hello, Homer, my arch nemesis. | Y'ello. |
Uh, you do realize who this is... | Uh... Marge? |
No, Homer, I'm not your wife, although I do enjoy her pearls. As a matter of fact, I'm holding them right now. Listen. | Why you monster! And you have my daughter's saxophone too! |
Homer, that's our stage manager! | Oh sorry. I'm a little nervous. |
It may interest you to know that for my next crime I'll be pinching the pride and joy of the Springfield Museum, the world's largest cubic zirconia. | Listen, Mr. Cat Burglar, I vow to go without sleep and guard the Springfield museum day and night for as long as it takes, from now on unless you want to taunt me more by giving me an approximate time. |
It may interest you to know that for my next crime I'll be pinching the pride and joy of the Springfield Museum, the world's largest cubic zirconia. | We'll be right back. |
Son, we wanna help you catch that plug-ugly-yegg. | Dad, the best way for you to help is to set a good example. Just stand around and don't steal anything. |
Son, we wanna help you catch that plug-ugly-yegg. | Hey! |
Any sign of the burglar yet? | He'll show. |
How's that? | It's his job. |
How's that? | He's a burglar. |
How's that? | Well, Mr. Cat Burglar, you'd like to get in here, wouldn't you? There's just one little problem. Thirty-six years ago some lady gave birth to a man named Homer J. Sim -- Oh my God! Underage kids drinking beer without a permit! |
I believe you, Dad. | Well, no matter what the paper says, I still have a job to do. |
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