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I made that last one up. | I see. |
Selling real estate could be just what I'm looking for. I'd really like to give it a try. | I don't know, Marge. Trying is the first step toward failure. |
"They back your baaaannk!" | You're all nuts. |
Oh, thank you Bart, thank you Lisa, for all your help! | What about me? You didn't thank me. |
You didn't do anything. | I like being thanked. |
Ah! Dad! Doesn't this car have seat belts? | Seat belts?! Pfft! They kill more people than they save. |
Wow! / Your own billboard! / Check it out! | Gee, that picture makes your butt look big. |
Works for the Lumber King. | Lumber. We need lumber. |
My high school sweetheart was killed in a drag racing accident. | Come on! It'll be fun! |
That's what Debbie Sue said... | Come on... you... stupid... car... you... get... goin'... |
Ah, so you don't have that killer instinct. Big deal. | Yeah, honey. Even if you don't succeed in the business world, you're still the world's greatest wife and mother. |
Well, I can too compete. And I'm going to sell a house. End of story. | Kids, your mother's under a lot of pressure. Why don't we let her clear the table in peace? |
Well, neighborinos, I guess this is goodbye... I better make this quick or I'm gonna start blubbering like a baby. | Yeah, me too. Let me know if you need any help. |
Uh, now that you mention it, we could use... | It was just an expression. |
So long! / Good-bye! / Good luck! | That old Flanders place gives me the creeps. |
Gimme my car, fatty. | This is my car! And I'm not fat, it's glandular! |
Ow! | You're... |
Ow! | ...going... |
Ow! | ...down... |
Ow! | ...punk! |
Whoa! This is sooo dangerous. | Yeah, you're right. |
Uh, Marge? Still got that deposit check? | Oh. Oh, wow, lucky thing we landed on this bubble wrap. |
Still, it would have been nice to bring home at least one paycheck. | Oh, you will, honey. You will. |
Why do you always wait until Christmas Eve to do your shopping? The crowds are just beastly. | You know me, Marge. I crave the hustle and bustle. |
Homer! Look at this mob! The good toys are probably all gone. | Oh, Santa's got a little trick up his sleeve. |
Homer! Look at this mob! The good toys are probably all gone. | Attention, shoppers. Register 9 is now open for your shopping convenience. |
Homer! Look at this mob! The good toys are probably all gone. | Sorry, these are for display only... This has been recalled... Oo, Bart would like this... We're out of these... |
Out?! But I just -- | Register 9 is now closed. |
What happened? | What the-- Where's Christmas? Lisa, where's Christmas? |
I know... | Can - we - skip - church? |
What? You can't rule it out. | Well, there's no easy way to say it, kids: God hates us. |
Hey, why don't we walk over to Grampa's and cheer up the old folks? That'll make us feel better. | Okay, but they'll have to be pretty damn miserable to make me happy. |
Looks like the Flanders are having a nice Christmas. | Oh yeah? We'll show 'em. Come on, kids, pretend we've got new cross-country skis. |
Merry Christmas, Simpsons! | That's not as fun as it looks. |
Sounds like you're having a rough Christmas, Homer. You know what I blame this on the breakdown of? Society. | Yeah, you're right, Moe. You're always Moe. |
Homer, look! Your house is on TV! | You take that back, Barney! |
Nah, he's right, Homer. | Stay out of this, old man. |
No. My husband is... at church. | Aw, that's my girl. I love you, Marjorie. |
Yeah, she's quite a gal. | You shut up. |
Homer! You won't believe what's happened! It's a miracle! | Oh, Marge, I don't wanna hear any more about that silver polish. |
Does anyone have change for a button? | Wow, this really restores your faith in... |
Does anyone have change for a button? | Lisa, do you have to practice that stupid song now?! |
Hey, heard some no-goodnik stole your tree. Well we got a 30 footer, so you can have the top of ours. | Thanks, Ted. |
Hey, speak for yourself. | Marge, kids, let's go buy some happiness! |
It is now. And because of your loss, folks, I'll throw in the undercoating for two hundred -- nooo, four hundred and ninety bucks. | What a deal! I'd be a sucker not to get it. |
Will this Christmas never end? | Outta my way, snow-poke! |
Slow down, Homer. | Don't worry, honey. I know exactly what I'm -- |
Slow down, Homer. | Oopsie. |
Hit the brakes! / Floor it! / Stop! / To the left! / Head back! | Shut up! One at a time! Lisa? |
That was close. | I knew this would happen. |
Why you little... | Lisa, no! Your hands are too weak! |
Stop that! | I'm gonna kill you! / No, I'm killing him first! / Why you little... Bart, the next time you ever have... / You went too far... |
Folks, any words for the Christmas thief, if he's watching? | Yes, Kent. "Hello, jerk. We may never find you, and we should probably all stop looking. But one thing's for sure: you do exist." |
Little Lisa's sweater? Little Homer's sausage?! What in the name of holy hell is going on here? | Oh, it's true! We weren't robbed! That part we made up! But the rest is true! |
So the family never knew about any of this. | Well, the boy told us. But that was after we filed a phony police report. |
Ha. | Head of the line! A family could get used to being shunned. Huh? Huh? |
"...You'll all get yours in hell, you lying, thieving, blanking blankers. Sincerely, Moe." | Oh great, now we have to send him a card. |
I know you're used to getting hate mail, but I'm not. | There's only one way out. We've gotta give this greedy town its money back. |
If you're headin' for the medicine cabinet, I already been there. | What the hell's goin' on? |
Yeah. Plus lots of other stuff. | Maybe so. But there's one thing they forgot to take away from us. This washcloth. |
Hey, that's my washcloth. | The hell it is! |
Hey, that's my washcloth. | Gimme that! / Uh, gimme that! / No! / Let go! / Gimme that my washcloth! / I want it! |
Besides, it's mine. Yoink! | Hey, she's getting away with the washcloth! |
She's going around the other side. Now get her! | Go! |
She's going around the other side. Now get her! | Oh, I got it! Oh, it's just a thread! It was... She's got... she's got the washcloth! |
We got the popcorn! Did you get "Waiting To Exhale?" | Well, they put us on the "Waiting to Exhale Waiting List." But they said don't hold your breath. |
Did you get "Emma?" Did you get "Emma?" Did ya? Did ya? Did ya? Huh? | Whoa. Whoa. Calm down, little lady--Take it easy--Take it easy. No. |
What did you get? | Something very close, exactly along those lines--A Clint Eastwood - Lee Marvin shoot 'em up western! |
So prepare yourself, for the bloody mayhem and unholy carnage of Joshua Logan's, "Paint Your Wagon!" | With blood, I bet! |
THEY'RE GONNA PAINT THAT WAGON / THEY'RE GONNA PAINT IT GOOD / THEY AIN'T BRAGGIN' / THEY'RE GONNA COAT THAT WOOD. | They're singing! They're singing, Marge! Why aren't they killing each other? |
Yeah, their guns are right there! | Wait, wait, wait. Here comes Lee Marvin. Thank God. He's always drunk and violent. |
He's dreamy. | Bart! |
He's dreamy. | Ooh, why did they have to screw up a perfectly serviceable wagon story with all that fruity singing? |
I thought it was toe-tappin' fun. | Singing is the lowest form of communication. |
Homer, you sing all the time! | No I don't, I hate to rhyme. |
You like musicals, don't you Dad? | NO I DON'T, I THINK THEY'RE BAD / THEY'RE FAKE AND PHONEY AND TOTALLY WRONG. |
WAKE UP DAD / YOU'RE SINGING A SONG! | I WOULDN'T / I COULDN'T / I HATE THAT STUFF! |
IT'S A DESPERATE CRIMINAL / ON THE RUN FROM THE LAW / PLEASE SPARE MY CHILDREN! | AND THEIR DAMP-TROUSERED PA. |
A SINGING FAMILY! IT'S WORSE THAN I FEARED / FOR HOSTAGE PURPOSES / YOU'RE JUST TOO WEIRD. / BYE! | SEE? ALL THIS SINGING SCARED HIM AWAY / IF WE JUST TALKED LIKE NORMAL, HE'D PROBABLY STAY. |
I'M BACK, SO RESUME WETTING YOUR PANTS. | Okay. |
BECAUSE OF YOU ALL, I GOT A TUNE IN MY HEAD / AND THE ONLY WAY TO STOP IT, IS TO MAKE YOU ALL DEAD. | I knew I should've shut that window. |
UH-OH, I'LL BE BACK WHEN I GET SOME AMMO. / BYE! | EVEN THE CRIMINALS ARE BEGINNING TO CROON. |
WE CAN'T EVEN GET ANY LOCAL LAWS PASSED / WITHOUT EVERYONE SINGING LIKE A BIG BROADWAY CAST. | ALL RIGHT MARGE, YOU'VE CONVINCED ME, THERE ARE MORE TERRIBLE THINGS / THAN MUSICAL COMEDIES WHERE EVERYONE SINGS. |
Done, done. | And not a moment too soon. |
Come onnn. You have to go outside to do your... business. | The experts say that if you want an animal to do something, you should do it yourself first to show him how. |
Ding ding ding ding ding... | Ice-cream-man-Ice cream-man! |
Looks like somebody's gonna have to do some yard -- | It's carnival time! |
Looks like somebody's gonna have to do some yard -- | Here's money, kids! Take what you need! |
Oh boy! / All right, free money! / Wow! | Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! |
You can't go on that. You have a heart condition. | Heart condition? Get outta here. |
You had a quadruple bypass. You nearly died. Don't you remember? | Obviously, I don't. Now if you'll get out of my way... |
None taken. | He's not just some "guy," Marge. He's a carny, and part of a noble tradition. Carnies built this country. The carnival part of it, anyway. And though they may be rat-like in appearance, they are truly kings among men. |
Okay, let's go, fatty. | Yes, sir! |
See any pigeons yet dad? | Do do do do do... |
How 'bout you, Lucky! | Who, me? |
Ooh, almost... Rats, too hard... Oh, that was close... Wow, what a scam. | Sorry, son. Daddy failed. |
Oh, listen pal, I gotta son of my own. Here. | A novelty comb! Kings among men... |
Not so fast, pardner. You owe me some money. | Hey, come on! He doesn't have any money. Look at his clothes. |
At the carnival? Cool! | Hey, that's not fair! I wanna be a carny, too! Can I, mister? Huh? Can I? Please? |
I don't know... You gonna get drunk and start a lot of trouble? | Sure, anything you want. |
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