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Whoa! This is a hospital? | That it is. We'll take the cure, bag a few lobsters, then watch some gay guys get married. |
Ah, you must be the Simpsons. | Howdy. And thanks for not recoiling in horror. |
Oh, you'll have a great view of the whole beach... from the electric needle room. | Really? The whole beach? |
Yes, from the electric needle room. | Electric needle room?! |
Yeah, we know. | I figured it out after I ate one of my chest sores. |
No way. We scored a free Hawaiian vacation. | This place is a blast. All we have to do is endure two hours of blinding pain, then it's nothin' but shopping and surfing. |
Well, it all sounds lovely, but... | Come on, loosen up. This is paradise. |
Number one, report to the Dermabrasion Hut. | That's me! |
Number one, report to the Dermabrasion Hut. | Aloha / Aloha Until we meet a- |
Dad, you only took one course. | Remember my love affair with Ali McGraw? She used to call me "Preppy." Then she died. |
There's a homecoming parade, a cocktail party... | Then the big game between Springfield U. and Springfield A & M. I hate Springfield U. so much. |
You went to Springfield U. You hate A & M. | So much. |
Or a ski hat if you've got a picture of a girl. | My old roommates, the nerds. Ya workin'? |
Does anybody need that much porno? | One million times... |
All right now, let's empty our pockets. | Make me. |
Professor Rocco, Chancellor Knuckles? | Okay. All right. Okay. |
We look like slobs. | I'm beginning to think this alumni party was just a ruse to get our money. |
My computer has 512 shades of red. | Have you nerds forgotten everything I taught you? This calls for a prank. I see a bucket... |
Good evening, gentlemen. | Oh, that's it. You're through, dean! |
Good evening, gentlemen. | Now who's the dean? |
I tried greasing the bucket with bacon fat but your father kept eating it. | Oh, couldn't you try a non-delicious fat? Oh, there's no such thing. |
Sorry, but these guys crack me up. | What guys? I wanna see the freaks. |
Okay. Hang on, Homer. Two eye holes coming up! | Easy... easy... |
Okay. Hang on, Homer. Two eye holes coming up! | Too far. |
Homer, maybe I should drive. | What? I can see fine. |
Homer, maybe I should drive. | That had nothing to do with the bucket. |
Wow! Is there anything he can't do? | Cure me! Cure me! |
Brother, I sense you are feeling trapped and desperate. | Yeah. And I got a bucket on my head! |
I have the power! | I see the light! It burns! |
Hallelujah! | Uh, Miracle Boy? |
Hallelujah! | I believe I had hair. Oh, here they are. |
What have you got so far? | Look at Moe dance! ALOHA MOE... |
That's nice, but maybe your Homecoming float should have something to do with college. | Yeah, you're right. |
I think Godzilla's bigger than Superman. | It's not to scale. |
No, really. It can be a crazy party, with clouds and lasers and miracles. | And chili fries! |
Ah, yeah, I, I couldn't help but notice you, you picked pretty much all of my flowers. | Can't make a float without flowers. |
Oh-ho, true enough. But, uh, did you have to salt the earth so nothing would ever grow again? | Yeah. |
My thesaurus... You'll lose more than that. In preparation for the big game, Springfield Stadium has caught additional-seating-capacity fever. | Woo hoo! Go S.U.! |
A & M is gonna kick your ivy-covered butts! | Yeah, well you went to a cow college! |
Whoa Nelly, we have ourselves a barnburner here today! Welcome to the 117th dust-up between the Snortin' Swine of Springfield A & M and the Springfield University Nittany Tide. Ohhh, doctor! Break out the hickory switch! | Okay, who needs another lamb rack? |
Whoa Nelly, we have ourselves a barnburner here today! Welcome to the 117th dust-up between the Snortin' Swine of Springfield A & M and the Springfield University Nittany Tide. Ohhh, doctor! Break out the hickory switch! | Lisa? Ham hock? Tri tip? |
Do we have any food that wasn't brutally slaughtered? | Well, I think the veal might have died of loneliness... |
Wow! He should have his foot insured by Lloyds of London! | Oh, you just know what everyone should do, don't you, Marge? |
Now, ladies and gentlemen, pour a little cider on those peepers, 'cause here comes the half-time parade! | I forgot my float! |
Now, ladies and gentlemen, pour a little cider on those peepers, 'cause here comes the half-time parade! | Quick, pass me down! |
And as those lumbering ships of the gridiron sail off into our memories, the players return to the field. | Wait! Hang on! |
Then, what's this? | Wait! Wait! I got a float too! Listen up, 'cause I gotta explain a lot of it! |
Then, what's this? | Boo? |
Hey, look out! / Look out! | Out of the way, Baryshnikov! |
Just a simple yes or no. | Oh, I only wanted to show my school spirit. |
I wagered a large sum on the performance of that scholar-athlete. | No, wait! I got a kid who's a miracle worker! He'll heal him up real good. |
Well he'd better, or else! | Or else what? |
Well he'd better, or else! | Oh, right. The ice pick. |
Well he'd better, or else! | Bart, I need a miracle! |
Sorry, Dad. I can't just magically cure a broken leg. | Please, Bart. You've gotta use your powers! I'm beggin' ya! |
I know, is phony major. Lubchenko learn nothing. Nothing! | Bart, do your thing! |
Yes! | Poor guy. He lost his leg. |
Springfield Community! | This is my year, Marge. Everyone knows I'm what makes this city great. |
Hey hey! | Wha...?! |
Hey hey! | Who are you? |
Seat filler. | Everyone gets an award but me. |
I can't help it if I donated the most blood. Oh, I'm feeling kinda woozy. | Oh, why won't anyone give me an award? |
You won a Grammy. | I mean an award that's worth winning. |
Homer, sit down. | What's that, sonny? |
"Thank you all so much. I love Springfield, from the cuddliest infant to th... ... puppies... patriotism... bluebirds..." I'm not reading this drivel. This speech is over. | Well, that was a great night for us all. |
That's not an award, that's part of the set. | Nothing you can say will diminish this honor. |
Don't worry about a thing. We'll take good care of your house! | Look at me, I'm a billionaire! |
Good Lord! This bedroom is as big as our house! | And the bed never needs to be made. Check it out. |
Seems a little wasteful. | Wasteful AND practical. |
Seems a little wasteful. | A mechanical dressing dealy! Watch this, Marge. |
Seems a little wasteful. | Now I'm ready to hit the town. |
I'm Princess Margaret! | I'm drunk! |
Mom! Bart's making faces at me. I think. | Look how loud I have to yell! |
Hmm, I know what the other eleven forks are for, but what do you do with this one? | Why, Marge, I believe you're supposed to scratch your ass with it. |
Stop that! Cigars are for rich people and legendary comedians, like Bill Crosby and David Letterson. | Oops, forgot to swirl it. |
Homer, did you jimmy open Mr. Burns' liquor cabinet? | Jimmy is such an ugly word, Marge. Unless you're talking about Jimmy Smits. |
Stop swirling, Homer! | Listen, I worked long and hard for this place. And no one's going to take it away from me. Not you, not its rightful owner, not anybody. |
Stop swirling, Homer! | And another thing: If I ev... |
Stop swirling, Homer! | Operator, get me Thailand. T...i... and so on. |
Homer, who are you calling? | Everybody. I found Burnsie's address book. I called the New York Yankees and told them to bunt, and then I called the Queen of England and asked her how it was going, and then I... |
Well, don't run up Mr. Burns' phone bill. | Just a second, Marge. Hello! Thailand? How's everything on your end? Uh-huh. That's some language you got there. And you talk like that twenty-four seven, huh? |
Well, don't run up Mr. Burns' phone bill. | Hey! |
Homer, you've got to stop pretending this is your house. You're not a billionaire. | Geez, way to burst my bubble, Marge. |
All I'm saying is don't get too comfortable. Mr. Burns will be back tomorrow. | Marge, you're right. We do have to have a party. |
Party? No! No parties. | What about partays? |
No partays, no shindigs, no keggers, no hootenannies, no mixers, no raves, no box socials... | Damn! |
No partays, no shindigs, no keggers, no hootenannies, no mixers, no raves, no box socials... | And I looked so good on that box. |
How 'bout Tuborg? The beer of Danish Kings. | Mmmm, Danish. |
Now, you know I can't sell you no beer till two P.M., on accounta it's Sunday. | Huh? If you can't sell beer, what are Lenny and Carl doing here? |
When it gets to here, we can drink again. | But I need that beer now. |
Sorry. Two P.M. Or you can steal a boat and sail out to International Waters. | What's that, a theme park? |
No, the ocean. Once you get twelve miles out, there's no laws at all. That's where they held the Tyson/Secretariat fight. | They were so drunk. Gentlemen, get off your knees. Your rich uncle Homer is throwing the wildest box social the high seas have ever seen! |
No, the ocean. Once you get twelve miles out, there's no laws at all. That's where they held the Tyson/Secretariat fight. | And you're invited. |
Oh no, you don't! I'm not going to let you trash Mr. Burns' yacht. | Marge, you know I normally listen to you, but I've gotta seize this opportunity. Just in case I never become a real billionaire. |
Hey, there's another way to get on the boat! | Woo hoo! |
Hey, there's another way to get on the boat! | Propellers... SPINNING! Turn... LEFT! Boat go... THERE! |
The boat's going sideways! | Ships ahoy! |
The boat's going sideways! | Well done, Mr. Lenny. Well done. |
Ow! | We made it, son. International waters -- the land that law forgot. |
Wow, you can do anything out here. | That's right. See that ship over there? |
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