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And the final from Riverfront Stadium, Miami 24 -- Cincinnati 10. | YEAH! |
Boy, mom sure will be happy you won fifty dollars. | You'd think that wouldn't you. But you see Lisa, your mother has this crazy idea that gambling is wrong. Even though they say it's okay in the Bible. |
Really, where? | Uh... somewhere in the back. The point is we had a great time today. And to keep it that way, let's not tell your mother about our little wager. Okay? |
Did you two have fun? | You bet. |
Goodnight, Dad. I had a really nice time today. | Me too, honey. |
Can I watch football with you again next Sunday? | Sure! You'll find it gets rid of the unpleasant after-taste of church. |
This team is fired up! We came here to play! | All right! |
He'll lose. | What? Didn't you hear what he said? |
Look at the fear in his eyes. Listen to the quiver in his voice. He's a little boy, lost in a game of men. | You think we should bet against them? |
I'd bet my entire college fund on it. | You got it. |
I'd bet my entire college fund on it. | Moe, twenty-three dollars on New York. |
Dad, I hate to break the mood, but I'm getting nauseous. | Oh, sorry. So who do you like in the afternoon games? |
Oh Doctor, what a finish! The final score -- Atlanta seventeen -- Houston thirteen. And the lowly Falcons are flyin' high. Who would have thunk it? | My daughter, that's who! |
Yeah, me! | Lisa, you've picked the winner every time! You must have some kind of special gift. |
C'mon, dad. It doesn't take a genius to realize that Houston's failed to cover their last ten outings on away turf, the week after scoring more than three touchdowns in a conference game. | Oh, my little girl says the cutest things. |
You know, dad, Sunday is fast becoming my favorite day of the week. | Not Sunday -- Daddy-Daughter day. |
Here you go, Homer. A hundred and thirty-five dollars. | I used to hate the smell of your sweaty feet. Now it's the smell of victory. |
Look at these prices. We could finally get rid of those termites for the cost of this meal. | Tut-tut. Only the best for my family. |
Hello, I'm Marco. I'll be your waiter. | Hello, I'm Homer. I'll be your customer. |
Charming lad. | Oh, violin guy! |
Charming lad. | What's your favorite song, Lisa? |
The Broken Neck Blues. | Play on. |
Well, maybe the paint has shut off his pores and he's slowly suffocating. Still, that is a real fan. | Well, Lisa, it's Daddy-Daughter day and Daddy needs daughter's picks. |
Well, maybe the paint has shut off his pores and he's slowly suffocating. Still, that is a real fan. | You promised you wouldn't get mad! |
Dad, I'm making the Chiefs my five-star silver bullet special. And with your blessing, I'd like to tie it to the Cowboys plus five at Chicago. | Good, good... You call Moe. |
Hey Homer, you wanna go bowling next Sunday? | Barney, are you nuts? That's the Super Bowl. How about the Sunday after that? |
Oh dad, you must've bought me every Malibu Stacey accessory there is. | Not quite. They were out of the Malibu Stacie Lunar Rovers. |
Ooh, perfume. Meryl Streep's "Versatility." | Boy, I know you're gonna like your present. |
Homer, those are very thoughtful presents. But you have to tell me where you got the money from. | All right, Marge. I'll tell you, but first you have to promise you will not get mad. |
I promise I will get mad, because I always do when you make me promise I won't. | All right. If you must know, Lisa and I have been gambling on pro football. |
I did not! I promised I would get mad! She's an eight-year-old girl. | But Marge, she never loses. She's got a gift. Aren't parents supposed to encourage their kids whenever they show talent? |
But gambling is illegal. | Only in forty-eight states. Besides, it's a victimless crime. The only victim is Moe, heh, heh, heh. And it's brought Lisa and me together. |
Well, I just don't know. | Look, what's the problem? The kids are happy, you smell like Meryl Streep, and I've got that foot massager I've always wanted. |
Well, I just don't know. | Believe me, Marge, nothing bad could possibly come of this. |
You know, dad, we've been watching a lot of TV lately. Maybe, the Sunday after the Super Bowl, we could hike up to the top of Mount Springfield. The fires in the tire yard really make for some beautiful sunsets. | Well, that sounds great honey, but next Sunday I'm going bowling with Barney. |
What about Daddy-Daughter day? | Don't worry, the new football season is only seven months away. |
I, Lisa Simpson, am hereby giving away all my ill-gotten Malibu Stacey accessories! | Look Lisa, I bought you a Malibu Stacey Chinchilla coat. |
I, Lisa Simpson, am hereby giving away all my ill-gotten Malibu Stacey accessories! | Huh? |
Yeah, I did. | Well, c'mon, we can still watch the Super Bowl together. Can't we? Eh? Huh? |
Well, I would like to see what all the fuss is about. | It's a date! So... do you think the Cowboys will beat the spread? |
Look dad, I'll tell you who's gonna win the Super Bowl if you want me to. But it'll just validate my theory that you cared more about winning money than you did about me. | Okay. |
I think Dallas is a mortal lock. | Dallas! Whoo-hoo! |
However... | However? What however? What do you mean, however? However what? |
However, I may be so clouded with rage that subconsciously I want you to lose. In which case, I'd bet the farm on Buffalo. | Lisa, do me a favor. Complete this sentence: "Daddy should bet all his money on..." |
Oh, this sucks. C'mon snipers. Where are you? | Oh, every note is like a dagger in my heart. I gotta get outta here. |
Wow! | Don't worry, Moe. I'm not bettin'. |
Dallas kicks -- oh, it's a bad kick, way too short. Buffalo's going to start with excellent field position. | Buffalo's gonna win. Lisa hates me! |
Whatcha got riding on this game? | My daughter. |
Hey Homer, didn't you say if Duff Dry wins, your daughter loves you? | Not Duff Dry... Dallas. |
Okay, okay. They're both great teams. | Huh? |
Touchdown Cowboys! | All right, we're back in business. |
So, with three ticks left on the clock, it all comes down to this one play. If Dallas scores here, happy fans'll be looting and turning over cars in the Lone Star state tonight. Here's the handoff. | Please, please, please... |
What are you so happy about Homer? You didn't win any money. | Money comes and money goes, but what I have with my daughter can go on for eight more years! |
Come on, Dad! | It's beautiful. |
Isn't it though? | After I catch my breath... can we... go... home? |
Extra mustard for Bart, sliced diagonally not lengthwise... Light mayo for Lisa, cut off the crust... Double bologna for Homer.... | Marge, I split my pants again. Oooh, can I have two sandwiches today? Make them bologna sandwiches too. Can I have two slices of bologna and cheese... |
Videos to return, grocery list, flea dip for the cat, Homer's dry-cleaning -- I think that's everything. | Marge, can you take my ball to Nick's today? A bottle cap got lodged in the finger hole. |
Homer, I'm running late as it is. Can't you just use one of the balls at the alley? | Alley balls? |
Where's my lucky red cap? | Alley balls... |
But don't put your lips on it or anything. | Hello? Hello? Is this thing on? Hello? |
Homer? Is that you? | What should I say? |
How about, "Yes, it's me". | Yes it's me! |
Tell her you love her. | I love you very much. |
Tell her you love her. | And uh... later tonight I think you and I should uh, snuggle. |
Why don't you just wrap it up? | Look Marge, I can tell something's bothering you. But if you come out of that car, I promise to do whatever it takes to make it better. Please, honey? |
Homer | Whaa... |
I need a vacation. | What? But Marge, we just had a vacation. Remember Mystic Caverns? |
I need to unwind. | I know you do, Marge. But come on, you know what our vacations are like. Those three monsters in the back seat. "Are we there yet? Are we there yet?" And let's face it, I'm no day at the beach either. "Marge, can I have another sandwich? Marge, can I have another sandwich?" |
No. I mean a vacation by myself. | What? You mean we're getting a divorce? Marge, I can change! |
No Homie, no. I still love you. A lot of couples take separate vacations. | Well, okay. But you have to swear you're comin' back. |
I swear. | All right then. |
Wish I'd thought of that. | She's startin' to give. |
Uh-huh. He'll probably trade her for a beer and a nudie magazine. | For your information, I can take care of my -- |
Uh-huh. He'll probably trade her for a beer and a nudie magazine. | See? Got her on the first bounce. |
Goodbye, Homie. | Good bye? Where's my clean underwear? |
Check the dryer! | How often should I change Maggie? |
Whenever she needs it. | Marge, Marge, how do I use the pressure cooker? |
Then just push nine on your phone. Then the pound sign. Then four-eight-three. We'll do the rest. | C'mon, Maggie. Nummy, nummy num. |
Then just push nine on your phone. Then the pound sign. Then four-eight-three. We'll do the rest. | Mmm. Strained peas. |
Then just push nine on your phone. Then the pound sign. Then four-eight-three. We'll do the rest. | Let go! |
Oh man, you want a bad night, try sleeping on one of these. | Barney, I've lost the baby. It's the worst thing I've ever done. |
Don't worry, don't worry. You know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna make you an omlette. | Just help me look! |
Are you sure? I make 'em with two kinds of cheese. | C'mon! |
Come on! | Barney! You're gonna pull her arm off. |
What do you want? | I came to see the kids. |
Wait here. And don't steal any light bulbs. | Hmmm. |
Dad! | Hey kids... uh... you haven't seen Maggie around anyplace have you? |
Uh-um. | Well, I gotta go. |
You the man who reported the lost baby? | Yes. |
Can you describe her? | Uh... she's small... she's a girl... |
Bingo! | Oh Maggie! |
Not so fast! You're wanted on three counts of criminal neglect. | You found my baby. Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! |
Hi, did you miss me? | Never leave again... never leave again... never leave again. |
And from now on I hope you'll help me out a little more than you're used to. | You got it, sweetheart. You have enough blanket there? |
Maybe we should let the dog in? | Marge, dogs love the outdoors. |
I think he needs a dog house. | Yeah, but what're ya gonna do? |
I'll bet we could buy a nice doghouse for fifty dollars. | Marge, you're a tool of the dog house makers. |
I am not! | Yes you are. You've been brainwashed by all those dog house commercials on TV. I know, I'll build him a dog house. |
Oh, I don't know... | Don't worry. I just drew up a little blueprint. Now let me walk you through it. |
Oh, I don't know... | This is the door. He goes through that. This is the roof. And this happy character here is the sun. He shines down on the house, see. |
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