instruction stringlengths 1 496 | response stringlengths 1 472 |
|---|---|
I'm sorry, Homer. No weapons. | A gun is not a weapon, Marge. It's a tool. Like a butcher knife or a harpoon or... a... a... an alligator. You just need more education on the subject. Tell you what: you come with me to an NRA meeting, and if you still don't think guns are great, we'll argue some more. |
Hi, Homer. | Hi. It seems to me if a gun can protect something as important as a bar, it's good enough to protect my family. So if you'll have me, I would like to become a lifetime member of your wonderful organization! |
Homer, you can't join up with these gun nuts. | Oh, come on, be fair Marge. For once in your life, be fair. |
Oh, don't shoot. Just take the money and get out. | What? Oh Apu, I would never... |
Oh, don't shoot. Just take the money and get out. | Or would I? |
Oh, don't shoot. Just take the money and get out. | I'll do it! I'll rob the Kwik-E-Mart. |
Can you help me get my ball down from the roof, Dad? | Sure thing, honey. |
Can you help me get my ball down from the roof, Dad? | You want me to get the cat down? |
Missed one, Dad. | See you in hell, dinner plate. |
Uhmm... | Mmm, you probably left them at work. On another topic, guess who was picked to host the next NRA get-together? |
Homer, I told you this morning, no guns at the dinner table. | You said the breakfast table. |
It's the same table! | Listen, if it'll make you feel any better, I'll put the safety on. |
It's the same table! | Oops, guess it already was on. |
It's the same table! | Uh. I'd better just put it down. |
But this is the first time since we've been married that I've actually feared for our lives. So I'm asking you, if you really care about me and the children, please, please get rid of the gun. | All right, Marge. I'll do it. For you. |
I'm a lucky woman. | And I'm a wonderful man. |
Bart! | Oh, I see Bart gets to have a gun. |
You lied to me! You promised to get rid of this gun! | I put it in a safe place, Marge. I mean, what are the odds the boy would look in the vegetable crisper? |
How could you?! Of all the terrible things you've ever done in your life, this is the worst... the most despicable... | But Marge, I swear to you, I never thought you'd find out! |
Until you decide what's more important - your gun or your family - we can't live in the same house. Come on, kids. | So this is the thanks I get for protecting my family? Then go! I'll be just fine! |
Until you decide what's more important - your gun or your family - we can't live in the same house. Come on, kids. | Do you know how to cook dinner? |
And that's how, with a few minor adjustments, you can turn a regular gun into five guns. | Here's some more chocolate curls, gun buddies. |
And that's how, with a few minor adjustments, you can turn a regular gun into five guns. | Anyone else want a beer? |
Homer! You use your gun as a can opener? | I use it for everything! Watch me turn on the TV. |
Are you some kind of moron? | Yeah, but... |
I'll also need to remove your tattoo. | I didn't get one yet. |
All right. Vote Quimby. | Marge? Sorry. Marge? Oh, sorry. Marge? |
Vote Quimby. | Sorry. |
Down here, Homer. | Oh, Marge, there's so many things I want to yell to you! |
Come down here. | O-kay! |
Do what he says. I'm too rich to die. | Freeze, bad guy! |
Homer! You said you got rid of the gun. You lied to me! Again! | I know I said that, but what I secretly meant was... |
Yoink! | The joke's on you, buddy. There's no bullets in that thing. |
Yo, give me the bullets. | Okay, don't shoot! |
No, I don't think so. | I'm sorry I lied to you, Marge. But this gun had a hold on me. I felt this incredible surge of power, like God must feel when he's holding a gun. So please, get rid of it, because I know I'll just lie to you again and again! |
Well, your cholesterol level is lethally high, Homer. But I'm more concerned about your gravy level. | Now wait a second. You doctors have been telling us to drink eight glasses of gravy a day! |
I'm comfortable with who I am. | You're a disgrace to this family. |
Or good old-fashioned Pee Wee Football! | There you go, Bart, Pee Wee Football will melt away those unsightly pounds and inches. |
Yeah, but I could get seriously hurt. | Then it's settled. |
The Wildcats! | Hey, Flanders. You're the worst coach this team has ever had. |
He's the only coach this team has ever had. And the season hasn't even started yet. | Yeah, well... he's wearing that hat like an idiot. |
You know, Homer, it's very easy to criticize. | Fun, too. |
Ooo, he's quite a little dancer. | Ahh, you got lucky, Flanders! And fix that hat! |
Yayyy! / I'm special! / Wooo! / Etc. | Huh, big deal. I've been carried out of Moe's like that hundreds of times. |
Do you have a question for Sandy Koufax? | Yes. Mr. Koufax, don't you think Flanders is a big jerk? Y'ello? Y'ello? |
Do you have a question for Sandy Koufax? | Yeah, Homer again. I think we got cut off. Y'ello? |
What? | Flaaaan-ders... |
What?! What is it?! | Game's out there! Made you look... |
Dad, that was really mean. | I know, Sweetie, and I got him right in the... uh-oh. |
Dad, that was really mean. | Hii-hi-hi-hi, hi, Flanders. Go Wildcats! |
Do you have a problem with the way I'm coaching? | No, no. No, no, no. It's just that, well, like I was yelling earlier, it seems like anyone with half a brain could coach better than you. |
Uh-huh. Half a brain, huh? Well, you know what? It sounds like you just volunteered! | Me? But you were doing such a great job. |
I don't want to make the team. | Then why are you running the obstacle course? |
Are you wearing my self-defense whistle? | You never use it. |
Good morning, everybody. | Wipe that smile off your face. |
What did I do? | I'm tired of watching you dog it on that football field. From now on, I'm gonna work you like a dog. Now go fetch me twenty laps. |
Oh, man. | Do it. |
You shouldn't pressure Bart like that. | Well, if you know a better way for me to live through my son, I'd like to hear it. |
You shouldn't pressure Bart like that. | I knew it. Slowing down already, huh? |
That's what I get for having faith in ya. | My father never believed in me. |
That's what I get for having faith in ya. | Well, I'm not gonna make the same mistake. From now on I'm gonna be kinder to my son, and meaner to my Dad. |
Bart didn't get cut. What a surprise... | Now just because I'm his father, he'll get no special treatment. He calls me "Coach" just like everyone else. Which he'll be doing... as our new starting quarterback! |
Yeah. / Yeah, he's right. / He's good. | Not any more. From now on, you're my main man. Okay, now everyone give me five laps, and hit the showers. Oh, Rod, you don't have to. You're cut. |
But I can't play quarterback. I don't even know how. | Son, you can do anything you want. I have total faith in you. |
Since when? | Since your mother yelled at me. Now how 'bout that hug? |
Good luck, Homer. No hard feelin's. | Not so easy to keep your mouth shut now, is it, Flanders? |
Yahh! | It's okay, son. You'll do better next time. |
Aw, crap. | Great debut, son. You really settled in after some early jitters. |
Are you kidding? I reeked! | Oh, really? Do reeky players get the game ball? |
Are you kidding? I reeked! | Hey, everybody! Let's hear it for Bart! |
Dad, I've got some bad news. | Ohh, your Mother's not pregnant, is she? |
No, I got hit by a couple of cars. I won't be able to play today. | Ohh, boy. Well, I'll just have to go to my back up plan... Nelson, how's your arm feelin'? |
Great! | Good, take this note over to the referee. |
Forfeit? / What? / Come on! / Oh, man. | Come on, guys. We can't play without Bart. He's the heart of this team! |
Yeah, he does. / And how. | Don't listen to them, son. I have total faith in you. |
You don't get it, do you? I don't want to be your stupid quarterback! I quit! | What? Well, I got news for you, Mister. You can't quit! You're cut! You too, Milhouse. |
May I be excused, Mom? | Oh, so now you're quitting dinner, too. |
Homer, please. | I didn't raise him to be a quitter, Marge. It must have been you. You've quit every job you've ever had: cop, pretzel vendor, church counselor, professional gambler... |
He's doing what he thinks is best... | Well, if quitting is the best, maybe I should just quit my job. |
Ahoy-hoy-hoy? | Mr. Burns, this is Homer J. Simpson, the father of the big quitter. Well, I just wanted to tell you I'm a big quitter, too, and I quit! |
Homer, Mr. Burns can't see you winking. | So... |
We drove 2000 miles for this? | We're in the championship. Way to go, team! |
Aw, I don't wanna bother Mom at work. | Well, Bart, looks like it's just you and... Ohhh. |
I'll scratch you. The hair. The hair. Slut. Loser. Skag. Skag. Skag. | I'm feelin' kinda low, Apu. You got any of that beer that has candy floatin' in it? You know, "Skittlebrau"? |
Such a product does not exist, sir. I think you must have dreamed it. | Oh. Well, then, just give me a six-pack and a couple bags of Skittles. |
Such a product does not exist, sir. I think you must have dreamed it. | Hello, son. |
Such a product does not exist, sir. I think you must have dreamed it. | I wanna apologize. I just got so caught up trying to encourage you, I was blinded to your stinky performance. If you forgive me, I promise I'll never encourage you again. |
Such a product does not exist, sir. I think you must have dreamed it. | I've got lots of quarters. |
This thing only takes dollars. | Aww... You know, tomorrow's the championship game and I could sure use a good offensive tackle. |
But I thought Uter took my place. | Consider him cut. |
Time for one last play, coach. | Hold on, I'm workin' it out. |
Time for one last play, coach. | Okay. Half of you vibrate that way, two of you fall down, Nelson, you just spin around in a circle. |
All right, I've got an arrest warrant here for a Nelson Muntz. Uh, which one of you little punks is Muntz? | Oh no, my quarterback. What are we gonna do? |
It's okay Dad, I can fill in for Nelson. | Are you sure, son? |
It's okay Dad, I can fill in for Nelson. | I knew I could count on you. |
Lazy bums. | Yeah, why don't we buy 'em mink stoles while we're at it? |
"This is just a note to say, I think about you every day. And when I get you all alone..." Well, it gets a little bit personal, here. | I understand. Yoink. Wow... |
I know. | Whoa... |
Oh, here's one from my mother. | Ooo, let's see what she wrote! |
No, no. It is the sign that it is time for my arranged marriage! | Oh. Well, congratulations. |
Subsets and Splits
No community queries yet
The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.