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Uh-unh, I'm not going outside today, not with those neighbors. Staying right here 'til my speech to the Elks Club. | Yoo hoo? |
Who is it? | It's your sons, George Bush Jr. and Jeb Bush. Come outside, Dad! |
Boys? Where you going? | Okay, son! Give him the glue! |
President Bush is driving on our lawn! He must be lost. | He's not lost. |
Looks like we're experiencing some blow-back from the wig offensive. | It's time to hit him where he lives. |
His house? | Bingo. |
Locusts. They'll drive him nuts. | It's all in the Bible, son! It's the Prankster's Bible! |
Hey, turkeys! Behind ya! | For the last time, Bush, apologize for spanking my boy! |
Never! You make him apologize for destroying my memoirs! | You didn't tell me you destroyed his memoirs! Never! |
I just drop by with present for warming of house. Instead find you grappling with local oaf. | Oh, brought some of your commie friends to help you fight dirty, eh? |
I'm sorry I spanked your boy, Homer. | Woo hoo! In your face, Bush! Now apologize for the tax hike. |
Pleased to meet you. I just moved in. My name is Jerry Ford. | Former President Gerald Ford? Put 'er there! I'm Homer Simpson. |
Say, Homer, do you like football? | Do I ever! |
Do you like nachos? | Yes, Mr. Ford! |
Well, why don't you come over and watch the game and we'll have nachos. And then some beer. | Jerry, I think you and I are gonna get along just fi-- |
Listen, I'm not going to lie to you: those are all superior machines. But if you like to watch your TV -- and I mean really watch it -- you want: the Carnivalé. It features: two-pronged wall plug, pre-molded hand-grip well, durable outer casing to prevent fall-apart... | Sold! You wrap it up, I'll start bringin' in the pennies. |
Really? You like it? Oh, I'd love to wear this someplace special. | Spurlock's Cafeteria it is. |
Bart, comb your hair. Homer, I don't think you should wear a short-sleeved shirt with a tie. | But Sipowicz does it. |
If Detective Sipowicz jumped off a cliff, would you do that, too? | I wish I was Sipowicz. |
Name, please? | Simpson family. |
They're free to enjoy the club. | Uh, c'mon, kids, let's go sit in the car 'til your Mom's done fitting in. |
That place is weird. A man in the bathroom kept handing me towels, 'til I paid him to stop. | You should've held out longer, boy. |
Yes. They're better. Socially better. And if we fit in, we can be better too. So today, while the rest of you were out being different, I did a very good job of fitting in. So good that Evelyn gave us a guest pass. They might even ask us to join! | Boy, Marge, you must've really done a number on those rich suckers. |
You know, Homer, the traditional way to cheat in golf is to lower your score. | That's one way. |
I'm the club pro, Tom Kite. How 'bout I give you a few pointers on your game? Now you don't want to over-think... | Not an issue. |
Keep your head down. | Huh? |
Wow! Very impressive! You're a natural, Mr. Simpson. | Really? |
Homer, please. I have to alter this suit so it looks different for tomorrow. | Just slap some bumper stickers on it and come to bed, willya, Marge? |
Yeah. Can ya bank it into the handicapped stall? | Seat down. |
Rant on, Simpson, but your vainglorious boasting will only add savor to my inevitable triumph. | Yes. |
Rant on, Simpson, but your vainglorious boasting will only add savor to my inevitable triumph. | Woo hoooooooooo-- |
Oh, quit cogitating, Steinmetz, and use an open-faced club! The sand wedge! | Mmm, open-faced club sand wedge... |
Oh, a cunning stratagem, Sir. It's curving right toward the green... and... it's... there. | He got to the green in one shot?! |
Oh, a cunning stratagem, Sir. It's curving right toward the green... and... it's... there. | How - can - that - old - man - hit - SO - FAR?!! |
Smithers, what are you doing up here? | And what are you doing with his ball? |
Smithers, what are you doing up here? | And all those other balls?! |
There are no other balls. Uh, just these, uh, reptile eggs! Ooh, step away, they're endangered! | These aren't reptile eggs! You've been cheating! No matter where Mr. Burns hits the ball, you put a fresh one on the green! |
Cheating for me? Good lord, Smithers, that's patently unnecessary. I'm one of the world's finest golfers! In all the years you've caddied for me, I've never lost a-- Oh. | So you're not the best golfer here! Wait'll I tell everyone about this! You stink! |
You know, Homer, Mr. Burns holds a lot of sway at this club. If you would keep quiet about the alleged... decades of cheating, I'm sure he'd support your application for membership tonight. | Bull-honkey! I don't care about joining this stupid club. |
Homer, what are you doing? | I'm driving up to the main building. They've got valet parking tonight. |
We can't drive this up there. They'll see the dent. They'll see the coat hanger antenna. Stop the car. We're walking. | But Marge, valets. For once, maybe someone will call me "Sir," without adding "you're making a scene." |
I won't say anything controversial. | I just won't say anything, okay, honey? |
I won't say anything controversial. | You kids should thank your mother. Now that she's a better person, we can see how awful we really are. |
Oh, Homie, I like your in-your-face humanity. I like the way Lisa speaks her mind. I like Bart's... I like Bart. And I like my old green dress. I didn't have to spend our savings on this stupid gown. | Our savings?! |
Don't worry, I saved the receipt. We'll have a $3,300 credit at Chanel. | They have beer and gum, right? |
May I offer my condolences on the untimely passing of your Great Aunt Hortense. As her only living heirs, you stand to inherit her entire estate. | Poor Aunt Hortense... woo-hoo... woo-hoo... |
No, it's a standard clause. | Well, luckily, there's no such thing as ghosts. |
Fill out schedule B. You should receive your burgers in six to eight weeks. | Hey Marge -- what were your gambling losses last year? |
You gotta hand it to Krusty. | Yeah, even with all his problems, he's still willing to do something unbelievably dangerous just to entertain his fans. |
You gotta hand it to Krusty. | Wow. |
I can't believe Krusty is really gone. | Don't worry, son. I'm sure he's up in Heaven right now, laughing it up with all the other celebrities -- John Dillinger, Ty Cobb, Joseph Stalin... I wish I were dead. |
INT. SIMPSON HOUSE - BART'S ROOM - LATER) | Don't let Krusty's death get you down, boy. People die all the time. Just like that. Why, you could wake up dead tomorrow. Well, good night. |
What kind of apprentice? | That's for my master to decide. |
How about town crier? You'd be great at that. | You think so? |
Yeah, Dad! You're a big fat loudmouth. And you can walk when you have to. | Ah! Well, if you kids believe in me that much, I'll give it my best shot. |
Thankily-dank, Mayor, I shan't disappoint. Har ye, har ye! I declare myself pickled tink about Springfield's Bicen-ciddily-ti-ten-toodily-rin-tin-tennial Day! | You su-diddily-uck, Flanders! Gimme that! |
Thankily-dank, Mayor, I shan't disappoint. Har ye, har ye! I declare myself pickled tink about Springfield's Bicen-ciddily-ti-ten-toodily-rin-tin-tennial Day! | Hear ye! Hear ye! Ye olde town crier proclaimed crappy by all! Chooseth Homer Simpson and he shalt rock thy world! |
Aw, they're just family heirlooms. That shouldn't stand in the way of Homer takin' my job and-- | Less chat, more hat. |
Aw, they're just family heirlooms. That shouldn't stand in the way of Homer takin' my job and-- | Woo hoo! Hear ye! Hear ye! The Homer Broadcasting System is on the air! All hollering, all the time! I'm gonna make the... |
You're to restrict your cryering to the parade, and selected pre-approved publicity events. | Okay. |
Toast. | I don't understand thee, Marge. |
Jebediah was really a vicious pirate named Hans Sprüngfeld. His tongue was bitten off by a Turk in a grog house fight! | No tongue, eh? How did he talk and eat and laugh and love? |
He had a prosthetic tongue made out of silver. | Yes, that'd do. |
He was one of the evillest men of the 1780's. He even tried to kill George Washington! | The dastard! |
Lisa, honey, when my family first came to this state, they had a choice of living in Springfield or Stenchburg. You know why they chose Springfield? Because everyone knows Jebediah Springfield was a true American hero. End of story. | I believe you, honey. |
You do? | Of course I do. You're always right about this type of thing, and for once, I want in on the ground floor. |
We could? | Come on, we can use the baseball bat to smash open the case. |
Oh, you're back. And you've brought a friend. | Town Crier. I'd like to ask you a few questions. One: where's the fife, and two: give me the fife. |
Hey, stop! I've got nothing but respect for the office of town crier, but this is well outside your jurisdiction. | Oh yeah? Well, put this in your fife and smoke it! |
Well, then I will thank you to stop peering at my screenplay, "Homer." And if I see a movie where computers threaten our personal liberties, I will know that you stole my idea. | I'm just waitin' for my kid. |
He wouldn't let me put it up. | Okay, well, that's not gonna stop us. I know a much better way to get attention... |
Well, yes, but human decency prevents-- | DIG HIM UP! Dig up that corpse!! If you really love Jebediah Springfield, you'll haul his bones out of the ground to prove my daughter wrong! |
Well, yes, but human decency prevents-- | Dig up his grave! Pull out his tongue! |
Yes. | What do we win if the tongue is there? |
Credibility. | What a jip. |
I was so sure... | Hear ye, hear ye, everybody makes mistakes. Let's go home. |
By the power vested in me, I hereby strip you of your ceremonial bell-- | No! Nooooooo!! |
Oh, Dad, I'm really sorry. I know how much you wanted to be in the parade. | Oh, it's not your fault, honey. I'm supposed to be the responsible one. I shouldn't have let you let me get carried away. |
Well, hey, it's Homer! Good to see ya, neighb-- | Get lost! |
Well, hey, it's Homer! Good to see ya, neighb-- | Hear ye, HEAR YE, HEAR YE!! |
Our first race is a benefit for daredevil Lance Murdock , who's hospitalized with cirrhosis of the liver ! | All right! Liver! |
Yah. Now I realize caring for Mr. Burns seems like a big job, but actually it's just 2800 small jobs. | Uh-huh. But this is the chair, right? |
Montgomery Burns' office... Oh, hello Mrs. Burns... I'll see if your son is available. | Mr. Burns has a mother!? She must be a hundred million years old! |
Simpson, eh? | Uh, Mr. Smithers? I don't understand 2700 of my new duties. |
Well, the van's leaving. Which one duty is giving you the most trouble? | Um, what do I do in case of fire? |
Sorry, can't hear you. Bye-bye! | Just my luck. |
Good lord, Smithers! You look atrocious. I thought I told you to take a vacation. | Uh, Smithers already left, Sir. I'm his replacement, Homer Simpson. |
Ah, yes, Simpson. I'll have my lunch now. A single pillow of shredded wheat, some steamed toast, and a dodo egg. | But I think the dodo went extinct... |
Get going! And answer those phones, install a computer system, and rotate my office so the window faces the hills. | Uh-huh, uh-huh, okay. Um, can you repeat the part of the stuff where you said all about the things? The things? |
Homie, it's 4:30 in the morning. "Little Rascals" isn't on 'til 6. | I know. I'm taping it. I want to get to Mr. Burns' house bright and early to make his breakfast. |
Eh? What about my options? | Well, you can either get up or go back to sleep. |
Did you get that report on the accounting department? | Yes, Sir, I did. |
Did you get that report on the accounting department? | The accounting department is located on the third floor. Its hours are 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. The head of this department is a Mr. Johnson or Johnstone. |
Did you get that report on the accounting department? | Here are your messages: "You have 30 minutes to move your car," "You have 10 minutes," "Your car has been impounded," "Your car has been crushed into a cube," "You have 30 minutes to move your cube." |
Did you get that report on the accounting department? | Hello. Mr. Burns' office. |
Is it about my cube? | It's Mr. Smithers. He's calling for you. |
Look alive, Simpson! I'm not paying you to goldbrick! | Yes! Yes, sir! |
Now get cracking on my long division. And don't forget to show your work, Simpson. | I'll have it on your desk in the morning, sir. |
Kids, stop exploiting your father. Homie, why don't you lie down and relax. | No time, Marge. I think Mr. Burns wants me to do some long division. |
The telephone has been ringing for some time. Answer it. | Yello?... It's for you. |
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