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God Homer, watching you risk your life turned my beat box all the way up to .. Rumba! Yea, I was praying you'd be safe but to be honest, part of me wanted to see ya get splattered. | Oh, I think someone just had his first taste of blood loss. |
God Homer, watching you risk your life turned my beat box all the way up to .. Rumba! Yea, I was praying you'd be safe but to be honest, part of me wanted to see ya get splattered. | Let's see... what's Marge's birthday? Barney is July fifteenth, same as Lassie's, so Marge's must be... fifty... oh, forget it. Flanders, what's your birthday? |
Aw, leave me out of this, Homer. Games of chance are strictly forbidden by Deuteronomy seven-- | Seven, eh? |
Seven a winner. | Way to go, Flanders. The Bible's finally pulling its weight. Got any more holy numbers? |
Oh, righty-o. One betting disk please. | "One betting disk please." Watch and learn. |
Aaand, fourteen black. | Well, there you go. Now how 'bout a drink? |
Oh no. I-I mean common sense. | Oh, that. That can be treated with our good friend alcohol. You might want to write that down. Where the hell's your notebook? |
You threw it out the... | Oh, never mind. Just pay attention. |
You threw it out the... | Slave girl? Oh, slave girl? |
More libations, my imperial conquerors? | Whuh? |
More booze? | Oh, yeah. Two more of these, please. |
More booze? | And for you, Ned? |
Look at this place! We must have really painted the town last night. I have a pounding headache, my mouth tastes like vomit, and I don't remember a thing! | Welcome to my world. |
Oh, I did it! I conquered my fears and I made up for a lot of lost livin'. And I owe it all to the Homer Simpson program. | The what now? |
Well, it's about time you two woke up. | Well, of course a-- Who are you? |
Here comes that vomit again. | Eeech. |
Here comes that vomit again. | Okay... okay... okay... okay... okay... okay... okay. Okay, you're saying that Ned and me married you two? |
Mm-hm, I'm workin' on that. | Ned, no! Think of your wives! |
Mm-hm, I'm workin' on that. | Wait a minute. This could be some kind of scam -- or possibly, scam-ola. We would remember if we got married. |
Take a look at this. | Ahh, precious memories. |
And do you, Homer, take this cocktail waitress you just met to be your lawfully wedded wife? | What did you call me? |
Do you want to get married? Married! | Sure. Sock it to me, baby. |
By the power vested in me by the Chicago Outfit, I now pronounce you husbands and wives. | We are so dead. |
You two fellas are the nicest husbands we've ever had, and we're not giving you up without a fight. | But Ginger, honey, I am not the catch I appear to be. |
Ginger's my wife. | Are you sure? Oh, rats. No offense, Sweetie. |
Homer, why don't we go make the girls some custom omelettes? | Geez, I've never seen anyone so whipped so fast. |
What are we gonna do, Homer? My kids are gonna be traumatized! And then there's Maude. And then there's Maude! | I don't know, Flanders, having two wives could have its advantages. |
What are we gonna do, Homer? My kids are gonna be traumatized! And then there's Maude. And then there's Maude! | Chop, chop, dig, dig. Chop, chop, dig, dig. Chop, chop, dig, dig... |
You know, Homie, there's so much more two wives could do for you. | I hear digging, but I don't hear chopping. |
You know, Homie, there's so much more two wives could do for you. | Ooh, a friendly bee. |
You know, Homie, there's so much more two wives could do for you. | Ow! |
You know, Homie, there's so much more two wives could do for you. | Ow, that sting hurt so much. We gotta get outta this, Ned. |
Well, do something! This is all your fault. You and your stupid program. | Blame me if you must, but don't ever speak ill of the program. The program is rock solid. The program is sound. |
Yoohoo. | Oh, those awful women want their omelettes. |
Yoohoo. | Ginger throws Ned a kiss. |
Your behavior is.. is unconscionable! | The Moody Blues! |
I want fatty. | What if we switched wives? Would that help? |
For the last time, no! | Hel-lo. Our ticket to freedom. |
For the last time, no! | So long, su-- |
We found some guys who know how to treat a woman. | But Amber, I can change! |
What's the occasion? | Because we love them, Jackass. |
What's the occasion? | Anyhoo, we came out of Walmart, when suddenly one hundred spaceships... |
Homer! | You're right, you're right. Fifty spaceships, beamed us aboard. They gang-probed you, while I discovered an invention that blew their heads up and saved America. |
Uh, do I have to be gang-probed? | Would you rather tell Maude the truth? |
What did the aliens look like? | Well, I only saw them from the back, 'cause they were so busy gang probing you. |
What did the aliens look like? | Hello, little birdie. |
I am Dennis Conroy, and heeere come your Isotopes! | Boooo! |
Why do you hate the Isotopes so much, Dad? | Because, I loved them once and they broke my heart. Let that be a lesson to you, sweetie: never love anything. |
Even you? | Especially me. |
That's a rotator cuff. His career's over. | I'm going to warm up the car. |
But there's only been one pitch! | And it sucked! |
Bases loaded, two outs, bottom of the ninth, and it's do or die. | "HITLER IS A JERK, MUSSOLINI..." |
No, they lost. | Losers. |
With a little middle relief, they might even make the playoffs. | You'll be in your cold, cold grave before that ever happens. |
Quiet! We're watchin' the Isotopes! | Shut it off. They're losers. |
Now we're in the championship game. | Championship? |
Now we're in the championship game. | Wooooo! 'Topes ruuuule! |
Well, here's a die-hard fan. Sir, your beloved Isotopes are about to make history. Any thoughts? | Oh, it's a great team, Kent... never gave up hope... I want to thank Jesus... and say hi to my special lady Marge... We did it, baby! Wooooo! Woooooo! |
The inspiring words of a fan who'll always root, root, root for the home team, even if they lose this ga-- | They lost? Those losers! |
No, no, no, the game's not over -- | Woo! Not over! Wooooo! |
Nobody touched my rumaki. | Woo! Rumaki! |
Isotopes! | Hey, a baseball field! Batter up! |
Hey, who's on first?! | Touchdown! |
Slide! | Safe! |
"WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS / WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS / YOU GOT MUD ON YOUR FACE / BIG DISGRACE..." | Whoop! Careful. |
Wow, you look really hungover, Dad. What did you do last night? | Last night? |
Wow, you look really hungover, Dad. What did you do last night? | Hello, big Maggie. |
Whoa / Curfew? | Serves you little punks right. Maybe next time you'll think befo-- |
Whoa / Curfew? | Oh, my God! Look what those rotten kids did to my car! |
Sure you do. You have the right to remain silent. | That was cold-blooded, Marge. |
But it's not fair. Adults always blame kids for everything! | Well, if kids are so innocent, why is everything bad named after them? Acting childish. Kidnapping. Child abuse... |
What about adultery? | Not until you're older, son. |
And here we are, locked inside. | Kids, the carnival's in town for one night only! And they've got cotton candy and hats with feathers and there's no lines because all the stupid kids have curfew! So-- Oh, right. Sorry. |
Meh. | Marge, kite. |
I'm tired of that show. But I've been hearing good things about "Talk to the Hand." Tom Shales says the writing "snaps, crackles and pops." | Okay, whatever takes my mind off my life. |
Hey, look what I found. Grampa's old radio. Oh, wouldn't it be grand to gather 'round and have a listen? | Well, turn something on. I'm starting to think. |
"We Know All Your Secrets." | Bo-ring. Go back to that infamy guy. |
Oh, Homer... | I have a problem. |
Tune in tomorrow, and every day until the curfew is lifted. Because we'll be revealing embarrassing secrets about Springfield's other adults. | Well, at least they've already done me. |
All right, you kids come down now. We promise we won't kill ya. | Speak for yourself! Bart, get down here! I'm gonna spank you back to the Stone Age! |
Well, you kids are always disobeying them! | Perfect. |
KIDS! / YOU'VE HAD YOUR FUN, NOW WE'VE HAD OUR FILL. | YEAH! / YOU'RE ONLY HERE 'CAUSE MARGE FORGOT HER PILL. |
We're gonna teach all of you rugrats a lesson! | Oh yeah? What can you old people do to us? |
You really should have voted, Homer. | Pfft. It wouldn't have made a difference. |
Happy Birthday, Dad. | Wow, a Val-U-Qual coupon book! |
Happy Birthday, Dad. | Let's see. Ten percent off carpet cleaning. Ten! Two pizzas for the price of one at Doughy's. |
Doughy's has terrible pizza. | Yeah, but there's two! |
Oooh, "Free foot pain analysis?" | Oh, Marge. That's just a trick to get you in there so they can cure your foot pain. |
I guess. | See ya, kids. Me and my Val-U-Qual book are gonna paint the town red... with savings! I'll start with a couple of pizzas, then a complimentary tango lesson and I'll cap it off with a smooth, refreshing colonic. |
Um, Dad... | Do you like piña colonics / And getting caught in the rain... |
It is to me. | Passing out in the ocean... |
Oh, you betcha... absolutely... eh-- Uh-oh, oh, oh, wait a minute. These tires won't take a balance. | They won't? |
Nah. Nah. No. You hear that clunk? | No. |
Well, that tells me you need four new tires. | Really? |
Yeah. Legally, I can't even let you drive out of here on these. | Oh, please, can't you let me slide this time? |
Uh, that's it. You're fired! | No! Wait! This is all my fault! Oh, if I could only turn back the clock and buy four new tires... |
Oh, I know that look. You came in for the free wheel balance and now it's costing you five hundred Simoleans. | Six with the tip. |
Hey, you got off easy. I just came in to use the phone and they got me for the whole Road King package. Alignment, shocks, Armour All, stem lube... | Stem lube. Even I didn't fall for that... Although winter is coming... |
Man, we are a couple of Grade "A" suckers. Wally Kogen. | Hey, I know you. We were in the same pyramid scheme. |
Oh, don't remind me. "Friends Helping Friends," my ass. Say, you wanna grab a beer while we're waiting? | Yeah. I'm gettin' tired of them pointing and laughing at us. |
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