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Booger. | A-- Wait a minute! These aren't exciting new products! You're not even trying. Okay, that's it. Both of you go to your rooms and spank yourselves. |
Homer! You can't punish the children just because you can't come up with an idea. | I don't see why not. They're my kids. I own 'em. |
And these should give you the grounding you'll need in thermodynamics, hyper-mathematics, and of course microcalifragilistics. | Look, I just want to know how to invent things. Tell me. |
Well, all you have to do is think of things that people need, but which don't exist yet. | You mean like an electric blanketmobile? |
Possibleh. Or you could take something that already exists and find a new use for it, like-- | Hamburger earmuffs! |
Uh, well, well... I suppose that... would... qualify, uh... | Thanks, sucker! |
I will buy ten of those right now. | Now, here's my "Everything's Okay" Alarm. |
I will buy ten of those right now. | This will sound every three seconds unless something isn't okay. |
Turn it off, Homer. | It can't be turned off. |
Turn it off, Homer. | But it does break easily. Now this next one's for the ladies. How many times have you gals been late for a high-powered business meeting, only to realize you're not wearing makeup? |
Dad, women won't like being shot in the face. | Women will like what I tell them to like. Now here's something for everyone. |
Dad, women won't like being shot in the face. | In the olden times, if you were watching TV and nature called, you'd have to get up and walk to the bathroom. It was the hardest thing in the world to do. But now, with the Lazy Man Reclining Toilet Chair, you can just lean back and let 'er rip. |
You expect people to go to the bathroom in their living rooms? | Sure! Believe me, every man in America will want to have one. |
No, Bart. Homer... all these inventions, they're... | Yes? |
They're not very... | Yes? Yes? Yes? |
They're terrible. | What? |
I'm not saying you're a bad inventor. I'm just saying these particular inventions are awful, and no one in their right mind would buy them. Or accept them as gifts. | But this is the best I could do. I guess I'm no better at being Thomas Edison than I was at being Homer Simpson. |
Do you mind? | All week, my life long dream was to be the next Thomas Edison, but now it's over. I guess I'll just give up my hopes and dreams and settle for being a decent husband and father. |
Homer! / Dad! / Look out! | Oh, that. I stuck a couple of extra legs on there 'cause I kept tipping over when I was trying to invent stuff. |
It could save lives! | Really? You think it's a good idea? |
Me, too! | I did it! I'm gonna be rich! |
Me, too! | Look, Mr. Edison, I did it. I'm an inventor! And I owe it all to you. |
Me, too! | See? It's just a regular chair, but I attached a couple of extra legs to the back... kinda like the ones on the back of your... |
Me, too! | AWDAMMIT! |
Hey, Dad, heard you swearing. Mind if I join in? Crap. Boobs. Crap. | I thought I had a great idea, but I must've seen it on this poster. |
If Edison thought of that chair, how come it's not on this chart? | It's not? Maybe he never told anyone about it. |
If Edison thought of that chair, how come it's not on this chart? | That chair might be the only one he made. |
So? | So, we've got to go to the Edison Museum and smash it! Then I'll be an inventor! |
But I thought you loved Edison. | Aw, to hell with him! |
Yeah! Hell, damn, fart! | Taking-Bart-across-state-lines-Back-soon. |
Yeah! Hell, damn, fart! | I borrowed your wallet! |
Man, I can't wait to smash that chair. | Oh, son, you're young and headstrong, just like Thomas Edison, Jr. You know, he started a mushroom farm, and an auto parts company, and he sold his good name to a quack medicine company. Oh, and later, he raised turkeys. That was on his turkey farm. |
Ohh! / Well, now that I'd like to see. / Yes. | Now let's take care of business. |
Ohh! / Well, now that I'd like to see. / Yes. | Outta the way. This is one invention you're not getting credit for, you inspiration hog! |
Your electric hammer, maestro? | Invent your way out of this, Edison. |
Your electric hammer, maestro? | Look, son. Edison was just like me. |
You mean the wild mood swings? | No! We both lived in another man's shadow. This old-timey nerd and I have suffered the same frustration and heartache. |
You mean the wild mood swings? | We're not rivals. We're just a couple of dreamers who set the bar a little too high. I can't destroy your work, my friend. |
Can I? | No, but we'll stop off at the da Vinci Museum on the way home... |
Uh, I think that's in Italy, Dad. | Oh. Well then, we'll take it out on Eli Whitney. |
...Authorities say the phony Pope can be recognized by his high-top sneakers and incredibly foul mouth. In other news, Thomas Edison, the greatest inventor of all time...is apparently still inventing, despite the notable handicap of being dead. | That's my Tommy. |
I gotta admit, Homer. You're taking this pretty well. | Let's just say I'm sitting in the right chair. |
Int. Simpson house - living room - morning) | Mail call! Gather 'round, everyone! |
Int. Simpson house - living room - morning) | All right. One for "resident"... |
That's me! | Well, that's it. |
One stinkin' letter? Why'd you make us gather 'round like that? | I needed my power fix. |
Yeah, Lis. She is a smart, sophisticated woman. Now let's hear more about that big, big reward. | Yeah, quit stalling, Marge. We want our reward. |
Cram it, ma'am. | Stand back and watch the pro. |
Uh, shouldn't you put on a batting helmet? | Nah. They mess up my hair. |
Uh, shouldn't you put on a batting helmet? | Ooh. Ball one. |
Uh, shouldn't you put on a batting helmet? | Ball two. This Bozo's gonna walk me. |
Uh, shouldn't you put on a batting helmet? | Hey! |
Uh, shouldn't you put on a batting helmet? | You're going down, you-- |
Uh, shouldn't you put on a batting helmet? | Oh! Oh! Why you-- Hey you-- You better-- I'm gonna-- If you k-- |
While I deal with this, why don't you start on that basket? | All right. |
While I deal with this, why don't you start on that basket? | I hate folding sheets. |
That's your underwear. | Well, whatever it is, it's a two-man job. Where's Bart? |
He's up in his room. Bart? | It's okay, Marge. I'll get him. BA-ART! |
No, no. I'm pretty sure he's with Milhouse. | MILHOUSE! |
What? | TELL BART TO COME HOME! |
I think he's at Nelson's! | WHO'S NELSON? |
Oh, yes. And punish Lisa for lying to us. | All right, young lady. I want you to march yourself directly to the Kwik-E-Mart and get me some chips and a beer. |
Mmm. What do you think he's doing up there? | I'unno. Drug lab? |
Drug lab?! | Or reading comic books. What am I, Kreskin? You tell me what he's doing. |
That never happened, Dad. | Sure it didn't. |
Hmm... it's starting to cool down. I'll bake another pie. | Ooo, how 'bout cherry this time? And would it kill you to make some coffee? |
Hmm... it's starting to cool down. I'll bake another pie. | Why is this taking so long? Bart was born in about five minutes. |
Actually, it took fifty-three hours. | Really? Well, the time just flew by, didn't it? |
I see a neck! | I see a horn! |
Man, those are some funky-lookin' birds. | Aww... Ohh, you look like a little tiny dinosaur. |
Man, those are some funky-lookin' birds. | That is one vicious baby bird. |
You're a lizard. | Enough bickering. I know how to settle this. |
No kickboxing! | If anyone wants me, I'll be eating alone in the basement. |
Let us roll. | Stupid cards. |
Dibs on the liver! | Woo hoo! Marge, they found a donor! I'm saved! |
This is genuine human hair. | This is legal, right? |
Ooooh-woo! Wow. If your fly weren't open, you'd look just like Roger Moore. | Later, chickie-pie. |
Ooh. Ooo-la-la Simp-son. Huh. What can I do for you and your new do? | You sent me to the chair. |
Snake? But you're dead. | I know you are, but what am I? |
... And the fluffy kitten played with that ball of string all through the night. On a lighter note, a Kwik-E-Mart clerk was brutally murdered last night. | Oh, my God! |
Ah, morning, Homer. Ah, you're looking unusually focused this morning. | Shut your squeal hole, booze jockey. I'm gonna, like, totally waste you. |
Don't you get it? He swore he'd kill me too. I'm next! | Don't worry. I'll protect you... Little dude. |
Don't you get it? He swore he'd kill me too. I'm next! | There. Now no murderers can get in... or out. |
Dad? | You are sooo dead. |
Nooo! | Come here, you little-- |
My school picture!! | Daddy would like a word with you, Barty! |
You've got to fight the hair, Dad! | But I look so youthful and hunky. |
You've got to fight the hair, Dad! | The kid's gotta die. |
You've got to fight the hair, Dad! | But I love my son. |
You've got to fight the hair, Dad! | More than a lush head of hair? |
You've got to fight the hair, Dad! | Don't make me choose! |
You've got to fight the hair, Dad! | Nooooo! |
You've got to fight the hair, Dad! | I love you, son. |
Get off of me. | I'll show you, hair! |
Ow! That's my face, you idiot! | Idiot?! Why you... little... |
Homer Simpson, you're under arrest for the murders of Moe Szyslak and Apu Nahasa -- pasa -- Uh, just Moe, just Moe. | It wasn't me, it was the hair! |
Oh, Homer, you're not going as a hobo again? | Going where? |
Well, we're leaving. And remember, no Itchy and Scratchy. I better take these batteries just to be sure. | Mama took those batteries / She took 'em away / Mama took those batteries / Size double A... |
Dad, you gotta get us out of here! Use the remote! | Huh? Oh, okay... Let's see... "pause," "three," no "fa-fa"... |
She's teething. Look... her very first baby tooth. | Ohh... Ahh... |
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