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Well, here. Say something. | Hey, this is Homer Simpson sayin' "Howdy" to all the girls out there in radioland. |
Well, here. Say something. | Hey, this is Homer Simpson sayin'-- I don't sound like that, do I? Oh, I don't like having such a hilarious voice. |
Now that's just bad. You got no attitude, you're barely outrageous, and I don't know what you're in, but it's not my face. Next. | Oh, "no attitude," eh? Not "in-your-face," huh? Well, you can cram it with walnuts, Ugly! |
That's it! That's the Poochie attitude!! Do that again! | Huh? I can't. I don't remember what I did. |
Then you don't get the job. Next! | Oh, I don't get the job, do I? Well, boo-hoo, I don't get to be a cartoon dog. |
That's it! You've got the job! | Oh, now I got the job, huh? Oh. Thank you. |
Okay, Homer. Let's get a level check on your voice. | She smells sheet smells by the sheet store. Wait, wait. Lemme try it again. |
Relax, Homer, you'll do fine. I'm June Bellamy. I do the voices of Itchy and Scratchy. | You? But you're a lady. |
She's a lady, all right. A beauuutiful lady. | Hey, it really is you! How'd you get to be so good? |
Oh, just experience, I suppose. I started out as Road Runner -- "Meep!" | You mean "meep meep"? |
You folks ready to begin? | Uh, I guess. Is this episode going on the air live? |
Uh, excuse me, Mr. Simpson. On the Itchy and Scratchy CD-Rom, is there a way to get out of the dungeon without using the wizard key? | What the hell are you talking about? |
Can somebody tell me what the hell is goin' on? Midge, help me out here. | Quiet! You're missing the jokes! |
Eh, that stunk! | Well? What did everybody think? |
Yeah, you should be very proud, Homer. You, uh... you got a beautiful home here. | So it was pretty okay, huh? |
Yes we can! | Well, at least I liked it. Didn't I? |
Yes we can! | I'm the worst Poochie ever. |
Are you prepared to die, Poochie? | No I am not. |
Oh, cut! Cut! Cut! Cut! Just stick to the script as written, Homer. You're supposed to say "Please, cut off my head, I don't deserve to live." | Never! |
Oh, cut! Cut! Cut! Cut! Just stick to the script as written, Homer. You're supposed to say "Please, cut off my head, I don't deserve to live." | You can't just kill off a classic TV character. Poochie could be bigger than curly fries, but first he has to win back the audience. That's why I'm gonna read these lines I wrote myself with my own two hands. |
Hi, Poochie! You look like you've got something to say. Do you? | Yes. I certainly do. Hello there, Itchy. I know there's a lot of people who don't like me and wish I would go away, but I think we got off on the wrong foot. I know I can come off a little proactive, and for that I'm sorry. But if everyone could find a place in their hearts for the little dog nobody wanted, I know we ... |
I guess... | Hey, that wasn't supposed to happen! Those finks double-crossed me! |
No refunds! Force majeure! Read the back of your ticket! | Nine hundred dollars? Well, we'll have to dip into the retirement fund again. |
No refunds! Force majeure! Read the back of your ticket! | Aw, nuts. Hel-lo? China? Little help? |
I'm sure she'd be proud that her descendants had piping hot tap water and plenty of warm, dry underwear. | That is so true. |
Hey, Lis, check it out! Pogo Stilts! These were banned in all 50 states! | What happened? |
Oh, you should see the crossword puzzle! She thought that "Mindy" lived with "Mark!" | Give her a break! Her husband was killed! |
It's camp! The tragically ludicrous? The ludicrously tragic? | Oh, yeah. Like when a clown dies. |
Well, sort of... But I mean more like inflatable furniture or "Last Supper" TV trays or even this bowling shirt. Can you believe someone gave this to Goodwill? | And that kind of stuff is worth money? |
Boy howdy! | Man, you should come over to our place. It's full of valuable, worthless crap! |
Well, if you're inviting me over -- | I practically insist. Shall we say, 5 o'clock? The snacking hour? |
Oh, man, you weren't kiddin' about this place! Well, I just love it! | Do I know you? |
Oh!... | Ow! Why you little... |
Dad! Dad! Company! Company! | Oh. I'll just be another minute, John. Have a seat. |
Oof! Homer, you are the living end! | That John is the greatest guy in the world. We've gotta have him and his wife over for drinks sometime. |
Mmm, I don't think he's married, Homer. | Oh, a swinging bachelor, eh? Well, there's lots of foxy ladies out there... |
Homer, didn't John seem a little... festive to you? | Couldn't agree more. Happy as a clam. |
He prefers the company of men! | Who doesn't? |
Homer, listen carefully: John is a ho-mo-- | Right... |
... sexual. | OhmyGod! OhmyGod! OhmyGod! OhmyGod! I danced with a Gay! Marge, Lisa, promise me you won't tell anyone. Promise me! |
You're being ridiculous. | Am I, Marge? Am I? Think of the property values! Now we can never say only straight people have been in this house! |
I'm very sorry you feel that way. Because John invited us all out for a drive today, and we're going. | Whoa, not me. And not because John's gay, but because he's a sneak. He should at least have the good taste to mince around and let everyone know that he's that way. |
What on earth are you talking about? | You know me, Marge: I like my beer cold, my TV loud, and my homosexuals fla-ming. |
Homer, at least come out and say hello. | No! No, no, no, no... |
Come on. You liked John this morning. | No, no! I'm not setting foot outside this house until that man is gone! |
Oh, geez Louise, you don't even know what you're worried about anymore. John's a witty, urbane person. | Oh, and I'm not. |
Hey, Dad, look what I got! Zzzapp!! Zzzapp! Zzzapp! Zzzapp! | Bart! Where'd you get that shirt? |
I'unno. Came outta the closet. | Uhh... huh. |
Homie, I can hear you chewing on your pillow. What's wrong? | Marge, the boy was wearing a Hawaiian shirt! |
Homie, I can hear you chewing on your pillow. What's wrong? | There's only two kinds of guys who wear those shirts -- gay guys, and big fat party-animals. And Bart doesn't look like a big fat party-animal to me. |
So if you wore a Hawaiian shirt, it wouldn't be gay? | Right. Thank you. I hope you realize this is all your fault. I mean, do you have to be so effeminate around the boy? |
Homer, I don't think there's a problem with Bart. But if there is, it's probably because you're not spending any time with him. Goodnight. | All right, boy! Come on! Today we're gonna-- |
I don't, but I loved hearing it! | You! I should have known! |
Homer, John brought us cactus candy! | Look, John, you seem like a perfectly nice guy and all. Just stay the hell away from my family! |
Well, now you don't get any candy. No, that's cruel. Take a teensy piece. | No. |
Homer, what have you got against gays? | You know. It's... it's not... usual! If there was a law, it would be against it! |
Oh, Homer, please. You're embarrassing yourself. | No I'm not, Marge! They're embarrassing me! They're embarrassing America! They turned the Navy into a floating joke! They ruined all our best names, like Bruce and Lance and Julian! Those were the toughest names we had, now they're just... |
Queer? | Yeah! And that's another thing! I resent "you people" using that word. That's our word for making fun of you. We need it! Well, I'm taking back our word and I'm taking back my son! |
Queer? | Homer storms out. |
What are you talking about, Homer? Where are we going? | Just a couple of good ol'-fashion manly places. Father and son. |
What are you talking about, Homer? Where are we going? | Just remember, son, whatever happens --I'll always love you. |
What are you talking about, Homer? Where are we going? | ... as a father! A father!! A regular father!! Whooh! |
What am I supposed to do here? | Nothing. Just sit. I'll be back. |
What am I supposed to do here? | Well it's been two hours. How do you feel? |
I'unno. I kinda want a cigarette. | That's a good start. Let's get you a pack. What's your brand? |
Anything slim! | Okay, that didn't work. But I know something that will... |
Roscoe. | Roscoe here runs this mill. He's gonna show us around and let you get a first-hand look at real All-American Joes doin' what they do best. |
Why the hell would I want to see that? | You'll thank me on your wedding night. |
Hel-lo!! | Has the whole world gone insane? |
Dad, why did you bring me to a gay steel mill? | I don't know! This is a nightmare! You're all sick! |
Oh, be nice. | Ohh, my son doesn't stand a chance! The whole world's gone gay! |
Oh, be nice. | Oh, my God, what's happening now? |
Oh, be nice. | ...and the entire steel mill was gay! |
Oh, it ain't no mystery -- whole modern world got a swishifyin' effect on kids today. And their MTV's and their diet sodas ain't gonna set 'em straight neither. You gotta do it yourself, Homer. And you gotta do it fast. | But what would turn Bart into a man fast? You have to think for me! |
Hey, he's right, Homer. After the boy bags a deer, all the diet sodas in the world won't turn him back. Then you just sit back and watch the grandkids roll in! | Hunting, eh? |
What? You never went hunting before, and you're perfectly straight! | Oh yeah?! How long since you've had a baby? |
But, Dad, it's barbaric! How does killing a deer make you more of a man? | It just does! Name me one gay Indian! |
Uh-oh, something's gonna die! | Butt out, butt-insky! What would you know about hunting? |
I know this much: I wouldn't wear that hideous hat. Here, take this one -- it was worn by Yale Summers in "Daktari." | Hang onto it, Toy-Boy! You might need it when it starts raining naked ladies! |
Nope. Something about a bunch of guys alone together in the woods... seems kinda gay. | That is a very immature attitude, young man. |
Hey, those ain't your rats, Barn. Well, Homer, you ready to call it quits? | Well... but... Wait a minute. Bart's not fixed yet! He hasn't even -- |
C'mon, don't take it so hard, Homer. You still got that other kid... uh, Lisa. Let's take her out huntin' tomorrow, make her into a man. | Oh, she'd never go. She's a vegetarian. |
...Aw, geez, Homer! Geez! You and Marge ain't cousins, are ya? | No... This whole thing is my fault. I've been a lousy dad. |
Huh? You did? Wait, man, those are reindeer. | Yep, and it's your shot, son. |
Aw, criminy! Here come the waterworks. | Bart, I'm gonna turn my back -- and when I turn around, I wanna see a whole pile of dead reindeer. |
Aw, criminy! Here come the waterworks. | Attaway, son! You made your old man proud! |
Dad, I'm scared. | Me too, son. |
No, don't! You have to protect yourself! | Son, there comes a time in every father's life when he must -- GAAHHH!! |
No, don't! You have to protect yourself! | UNNGHH!! |
Dad, are you hurt? | Just... my bones... and organs... |
Ho. Ho. Ho. Ho. Ho. Ho. | What the -- ? |
Ho. Ho. Ho. Ho. Ho. Ho. | Bart, look! It's Santa Claus! |
Whoa, it's Santa, all right! And he is kickin' ass! | It's a miracle! |
Oh, Homie, I'm so glad you're safe! Hmmm, you feel softer than before. | I've been tenderized. |
Great! Well, Homer, I won your respect, and all I had to do was save your life. Now if every gay man could just do the same, you'd be set. | Amen to that. |
Ho-mer. | Oh, all those stairs... |
Oh, you have nothing to worry about, honey. | Your mother's right, Bart. Sure, you're the one who ruined all of Sideshow Bob's criminal schemes -- |
We're very proud of you, by the way. | And sure, he's probably so insane with rage that he'd butcher you horribly if he could -- |
But he's safely locked away! | In a medium-security prison. |
For life! | Unless he gets out somehow. |
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