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Mr. Simpson, do you have half a million dollars? | Uh, sure... let me write you a check. |
Mr. Simpson, this check is dated January 1, 2054. | Is there a problem with that? |
Our ponies start at five thousand dollars. Cash. | Isn't there like a pound where you can pick up cheap ponies that ran away from home? |
Simpson, eh? How can I help you? | Mr. Burns, you do this personally? |
It's a hobby. I'm not in this for any personal gain, heavens no. By the way, are you acquainted with our state's stringent usury laws? | U-su-ry? |
Silly me, I must have just made up a word that doesn't exist. Now, what is the purpose of this loan? | I want to buy a pony. |
Isn't that cute? Smithers, he's planning on joining the horsey set. That is it, isn't it? You're not planning to eat it? | No. I need to get it for my little girl because she doesn't love me any more. |
Shut up, Simpson. | Sorry. |
Mr. Simpson, are you quite sure you know how to take care of a pony? | Of course. |
I am very upset with you. | Sounds like someone's angling for a pony of her own. |
Hey, how come Lisa gets a pony? | Because she stopped loving me. |
I don't love you either. So give me a moped. | I know you love me. So you don't get squat. Hee hee hee hee. |
Homer, just where were you planning to keep this horse? | I've got it all figured out. By day it will roam free around the neighborhood. And at night it will nestle snugly between the cars in our garage. |
That's illegal. | That's for the courts to decide. Marge, she loves me. |
Dad, I think Princess belongs in a stable. | Stable? That sounds expensive. |
Dad, I think Princess belongs in a stable. | This is what love costs a month? |
Father, you've made me the happiest girl who ever lived. | Oh nuts. |
Wait, Dad, I've got something for you. | I was hoping it'd be money. |
Hmm, oh dear, we're in serious trouble here. We're just going to have to cut down on luxuries. | Well you know, we're always buying Maggie vaccinations for diseases she doesn't even have. |
Actually, I was thinking we could cut down on your beer. | Nah, we're not gonna be doing that. |
Then I'm afraid there's no choice but to give up the pony back. | First you didn't want me to get the pony. Now, you want me to take it back. Make up your mind. |
Homer... | Marge, Lisa loves me, the pony stays. |
All right. You got us into this, you get us out. | Fine, I will. There's plenty of money out there for a guy who's willing to work for it. |
All right. You got us into this, you get us out. | Do you have any jewelry you don't need anymore? |
Here you go. | Liberty Bell... Two Liberty Bells... come on, come on, come on... Oh. Yes! Whoo-hoo! Three Liberty Bells! That'll be TEN thousand dollars, Apu. |
Oh congratulations, Mr. Homer! | Thank you. |
If I could just see the ticket... | There it is. |
Please to be removing your thumb. | No. |
Yes. Please, I must insist... | No! No! |
I've got to look at the ticket | No! You can't see... come on! |
Yes, I must... | No! |
Yes, I must... | Let go. You're ripping it. |
A cherry! Oh, Mr. Homer, what has reduced you to such cheap chicanery? | Ohh... I need money. |
Well, if you need money you should have at least jammed a gun in my head or better yet you could inquire about my "Help Wanted" sign. | You're looking for help? |
Yes. We need someone for the demanding, yet high-profile midnight to eight a.m. shift. | I'm your man! |
You're hired. | Woo-hoo! |
Each of these bullet wounds is a badge of honor. | ...Badge of honor. |
Now, these hot dogs have been here for three years. They are strictly ornamental. There's only one bozo who comes in and buys them. | But I eat... Oh. |
Homer, where have you been? I was so worried. | Marge, could we go in the other room? I did something last night I'm not proud of and I don't want the kids to hear it. |
Oh my God, she killed him. | Mmm... salty. |
Homer, are you stealing Squishees? | No sir. |
Homer! You are asleep at your post! Now go change the expiration dates on the dairy products. | Yes sir. |
Homie, how long do you plan to do this? | I don't know. How long do horses live? |
I just called to say I love you, Dad. | Thanks. When is she gonna stop loving me? |
Hey, Homer, where ya goin'? | Going for... eight hour walk. |
Hey, pink hat, when I ordered that blueberry squishee, I meant today. | Coming right up, sir. |
And fill it to the top this time. | Yes, sir. |
Dad, you don't have to do this. | Yes I do. You see Lisa, grownups have a thing called money... |
Dad, I understand the sacrifice you've made for me. That's why I gave up the pony. | You did? |
I mean you, you dummy. | Awww. |
I mean you, you dummy. | Apu. You can take this job and re-staff it! |
Products you could only imagine before. The Foam Doam...the Jet Walker...Mr. Sugar Cube... | That baby changed our lives. |
Not so fast Troy! With one application of Spiffy, you'll think the body's still warm. | Oooooh! That's one clean tombstone. |
Hey, Dad, you got a power drill? | In the garage. |
I'm offering three bottles -- enough to clean one thousand tombstones -- for only thirty-nine ninety-five. | Yeah, give us a break, Doctor. |
Hey, Homer, I can't find the safety goggles for the power saw. | If stuff starts flying, just turn your head. |
Okay. I'll throw in a fourth bottle, the applicator glove, and a state of Kansas Jell-O mold -- twenty-nine ninety-five. | Okay, okay, calm down. |
Homer, be nice. | Okay, I will. I will. |
Homer, be nice. | Patty, Selma, what a pleasant surprise. |
No, next to him. Mary... Tyler... Moore. | ... Expiration date: June, 1999... Uh, 2012, yeah. |
Homer, are you ordering junk off the TV again? | Shh! They'll hear you. |
Who's using the power tools? | I don't know. Some guy I guess. |
Well, we're going to the beauty parlor. Maybe you should do something with the kids while I'm gone. | Oh sure, great idea. I'd love to -- Did you hear that? |
Yes. | How much? |
Everything. | What's the quickest, cheapest, easiest way to do something with you? |
Uh... take us to the video store. | Anything for my little girl. |
Uh... take us to the video store. | Bart! You can't weld with such a little flame. Stupid kid. |
You want to rent it, sir? | Why? I just saw the best part. |
You want to rent it, sir? | Oooh, "Death by Knockout," "Blood on the Ice" Oh, oh... "Football's Greatest Injuries". Lisa, we're going. |
But, Dad, I can't find "Happy Little Elves in Tinkly Winkly Town". | Just grab something. All these movies are great. |
Homer, could you turn off the TV? There's a little test I want you to take. | Oh great, you made me miss Joe Theisman. |
This is from the National Fatherhood Institute. It evaluates your knowledge of your son and rates you as a father. | Oh Marge. |
Question one: "Name one of your child's friends..." | Uh, let's see, Bart's friends... Well, there's the fat kid with the thing... uh... the little wiener who's always got his hands in his pockets. |
They want a name, Homer, not a vague description. | Okay. Hank. |
Hank?! Hank who? | Hank... Jones. |
Homer, you made that up. Question two: "Who is your son's hero?" | Steve McQueen. |
That's your hero. "Name another dad you talked to about parenting." | Next. |
"What are your son's hobbies?" | Well, he's always chewing on that phone cord. |
He hasn't done that since he was two. | Then he has no hobbies. |
Oh really? Well, maybe you should go out in the garage and see. | Bart!... BART!!! |
What? | You don't have any hobbies, do you boy? |
No, not really. | Well, that's what I... Wait a minute. What are you doing? |
Building a Soap Box Derby racer. | Oh, that's a hobby! |
Hey, so it is. | Oh, my God. I don't know jack about my boy... I'm a bad father! |
You're also fat. | I'm also fat! |
National Fatherhood Institute. Dave speaking. | I'm Homer Simpson. I just took your test. I got a zero. |
In between some other projects. Well, gentlemen, if you'll excuse me, I've booked some time at the wind tunnel. | Goodbye, son. |
For starters, Mr. Simpson, won't you take this complimentary copy of "Fatherhood" by Bill Cosby. | Ho, ho... if he's as smart as he is funny, I'm sold. |
Mr. Simpson, if you want to be a good father, you have to spend time with your son. | Well, that's easy for you to say, you preachy egg-headed institute guy. How much do you see your son? |
Homer, meet Dave Jr. | Huh? |
Thanks, Dad. | Oh, how I envy you! |
Homer, that easy back and forth that you just witnessed didn't happen over night. It took years of effort. | I've never been afraid of a little hard work. |
Aw, that's the spirit, Mr. Simpson. Now step one is to find an activity the two of you can share. Does the boy have any interests? | What boy? |
Your son. Find something he likes to do and share in it. | Well, he is building a soapbox derby racer. |
Thanks, but I'm almost done. Why don't you get back on the couch and watch TV? | Okay. No, I'm gonna do it. |
Sorry dad, but three time Soap Box Derby champion Ronnie Beck never needed his dad's help. | But you can use me. I'm good. I've built a lot of things around the house... The spice rack... The birdfeeder... The gymboree. |
Sorry dad, but three time Soap Box Derby champion Ronnie Beck never needed his dad's help. | What was that? Ah, who cares. Son, please let me help you. |
Come on Dad, it'd be weird. | Oh this isn't working at all. It's hopeless... Wait a second. |
Come on Dad, it'd be weird. | Hmm... "Cosby's first law of intergenerational perversity: No matter what you tell your child to do, he will always do the opposite." Huh? |
Come on Dad, it'd be weird. | Oh, that sounds too complicated. |
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