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Goodbye. | Badbye. |
Goodbye. | No. No. Stay away from my wife, Bart. |
Are you sure you want me to be your doubles partner? | Absolutely, sweetie. |
And you're not doing it out of spite? | No, of course not. Now aim for your mother's heart. |
Dad, I don't want to enter the tournament just to hurt Mom. | Oh, come on. You've been gunning for queen bee ever since you buzzed into this hive. Now serve! |
Did you make that awful effigy? | Hey, leave my teammate alone! |
Oh, you little-- Come on, Bart. | Babies. |
Telegram for Lisa Simpson. | Don't listen. It's a trick! |
Dear Lisa. Psych. Psych, psych, psych. Signed, Super-psych. | I think he's trying to psych you out. |
Huh? Ehh, whaddaya want? I'm not gonna do "A" material for charity. And after all, that is why we're here. | Well, look who's here. You two are goin' down. |
No we're not. You're going down. | Did you hear that? She said we're goin' down! |
All we can do is play our very best. | Oh, that's loser talk! |
Now I'd like to introduce two of the tennis world's most unbeatable players, Venus and Serena Williams. | Unbeatable, eh? |
Now I'd like to introduce two of the tennis world's most unbeatable players, Venus and Serena Williams. | Comin' through... Hey, hi Otto... Sorry... |
That's our Dad's seat. | Hey, that's great. Listen, I need a new doubles partner. My little girl's a lead weight. |
You're dumping your own daughter? | Yeah, but only to crush my wife and son. |
Yeah, that's pretty low. | Hm, you seem less disgusted. Let's go! |
Our next match is Marge and Bart Simpson... | Booo! You rot! |
...versus Homer and Lisa... | Up- bup... |
Venus Simpson? You're replacing me? | Now Lisa, dumping is such a harsh word. Let's just say I'm replacing you. |
Yes! I'm in. | Everybody's been dumped but me. I'm undumpable. |
Yoink! | My tennis stick! |
Yoink! | Who are you? |
You're Andre. I'm Serena. | You're a girl. |
Me neither. I'm just enjoying some world-class tennis. | You know, there's a lesson here for all of us: it's better to watch stuff than to do stuff. |
After the tournament, let's go out for a nice family dinner. | Courtesy of Pete Sampras. |
After the tournament, let's go out for a nice family dinner. | Sorry. |
After the tournament, let's go out for a nice family dinner. | Sucker. |
I can't believe Krusty's retiring. This is tragic! | A world without Krusty -- what would that be like? |
I can't believe Krusty's retiring. This is tragic! | What's on TV? |
Nutsy the clown. | Oh boy! Oh boy! Oh boy! |
I was at the flower shop. | Oh, yeah, uh, I was at the flower shop today, too. Yup, gettin' drunk at the ol' flower shop. |
Thank you, folks. Now, fasten your funny belts, as our own Chimpendale's dancer gives you the Full Monkey! | Take it off! |
Time to blow up the clown... | Go. Blow. |
And in 1984, Portugal's Carlos Lopez becomes the oldest Olympic marathon winner ever at age 38. | 38! That's roughly my age! Marge, after a lot of thought, I've decided to run the Springfield marathon. |
Well, Dad, I think running's good exercise -- it adds years to your life. | Stay out of this, Lisa. Marge, I've made up my mind. I'll do your job for a day, and you do mine. Then we'll see who has it tougher. |
You got all your equipment, Dad? | Let's see. Sweatbands... check. Anti-chafing nipple tape... Check, check... and check. |
Attention, runners. On your mark, get set, now get outta here before I change my mind. | I can't believe it! I'm actually running a marathon! Oh, I hit the wall! This is so painful! Hey, I got my second wind. Another wall! I ju-- Woo hoo! Third wind! |
Well, thank you for lettin' me chill in your crib. | And thank you for assuming we're hip. |
Well, thank you for lettin' me chill in your crib. | All right, now here's the 411: I'm a record producer, see. I'm starting a new boy band and there's a place in it for Bart. |
Please, Mom. My dream is to be a rock star. | And my dream is to get rid of Bart. |
But... | How many lives must you ruin? |
Don't be selfish, Lisa. | Will you two shut up? I'm missing precious VJ prattle. |
What does it mean? | Ah, it doesn't mean anything. It's like "rama-lama ding dong" or "give peace a chance". |
Are you sure someone hasn't been bitten by the jealousy bug? | Here comes the jealousy bug. Gonna git ya! Gonna git ya! |
Cut it out! You're a grown man! | I wanna go home now. |
Dad, L.T.'s gone crazy! | Yeah, that's the look. |
Defuse it old school! | 'Bout time. |
They called me "Smelson"! Haw haw. | "Smelson!" It's funny 'cause you smell. |
Are you sick of ordinary-shaped amusement parks? | Am I ever! |
It was all right, I guess. | Kids... How would you... like to go to... Blockoland?!! |
Meh. | But... the TV gave me the impression that... |
Squaresville sounds pretty cool. | I am a robot. Do what I say. |
Squaresville sounds pretty cool. | I am a washing machine. Do what I say. |
Come with me. | Check it out. I built myself a healthy apple. |
But you made it out of ham cubes. | Yep, a shiny new apple. |
But you made it out of ham cubes. | I get it. Everything's made of blocks. Even the water. |
Hey, boat twenty-eight, stop splashing! | What are you gonna do about it? |
Hey, boat twenty-eight, stop splashing! | Uh-oh. |
Hey, boat twenty-eight, stop splashing! | Leeches! |
It's okay, but it's missing a piece. | Welcome to real life, Lisa. You can't fight city hall, AKA Blockoland. So don't even try. |
What kind of a thing is that to tell your children? | It's what I always tell them. I told them that twice yesterday. And then again as they were going to sleep. |
I'm sure the gift shop will replace the missing piece. | You're right, honey. Hear that, kids? The Simpsons are going to Blockoland! |
Yaaayy! | 'Scuse me. |
Hey, tough luck, pal. You can't fight the Souvenir Industry. We're too powerful. | Yeah, you're right. |
Hey, tough luck, pal. You can't fight the Souvenir Industry. We're too powerful. | But before I go, I'm gonna give you a little souvenir of my own. |
Thank you, Dad. | Hey, any friend of Marge is a friend of mine. |
Great! | You know, standing up for the little guy felt good. I'm gonna do it more often. |
You idiot. They were beating out my shirt fire! | My heart was in the right place, jerk! |
Thanks again, Dad. | Well, you're welcome, honey. Now, I'm gonna spend the whole day helping shmoes with their problems. Got a problem, Bart? |
Bart's got a problem! | Don't worry, son. I'll handle this. |
He's a smelly ugly dork. | Please, ugly is such a smelly word. Who would you rather go out with? |
Tommy. | Well duh! He's breathtaking, but Bart has inner beauty... like you'd find in a rodent. |
Tommy. | And face it, you're no prize either. You wear braces, you dress like a kid and you're not gettin' any younger. Take what you can get. |
They wouldn't honor my coupon for two free streaks. | They wouldn't? Well I'll go to bat for you, honey. |
Yes, may I help you? | Nice place you got here. Ooh look, a hair net. Be a shame if it was hurled to the ground! |
Yes, may I help you? | Oh, how clumsy of me? And... |
Yes, may I help you? | Oops! |
Why are you doing zese things? | Either you honor my wife's coupon, or a lot more lids will be unscrewed. |
I cannot streak that much hair. Think of the cost. I'd be ruined! | Oh, really... |
I cannot streak that much hair. Think of the cost. I'd be ruined! | Boy, you weren't kidding. Your profit margins are razor-thin. |
You see? Zees is what I'm... | Wait a minute. Four hundred a month for loafer lightener? |
But we must have it. It is ze lifeblood of ze industry. | You get the same results with a mincing gel. |
Oh, Homie, I love them. I can't thank you enough. | The satisfaction of helping another human being is all the thanks I et cetera. |
Oh, Homie, I love them. I can't thank you enough. | And I gave that man directions, even though I didn't know the way. 'Cause that's the kind of guy I am this week. |
I tried to return my season ticket, but they wouldn't give me my money back. They said they wanted it. | Say no more. I'll help you, Lenny. |
Nope. This is the equipment shed. | Oh. |
Nope. This is the equipment shed. | Well, is that it? |
That's where we keep the water heater. | Is... |
That's a tractor. | I see. |
Sir, we can't give your friend a refund just because the team is losing. | I'm sorry to hear that. |
Spin that back to where it was. | Yes, sir. |
This meeting is over. | Okay. So, uh, you wanna go get something to eat? |
No, no, not that door! | Albuquerque Isotopes? What is all this stuff? |
It's not anything. It has no purpose. | What a crazy room. There's no Albuquerque Isotopes. It's the Springfield... Ohhhh. |
No, no. There's no 'ohhhh.' | You're moving the team to Albuquerque, aren't you? |
No, no, we would never abandon our loyal Springfield fans. By the way, all this barging into rooms marked "PRIVATE" must have made you thirsty. Would you like a beer? | Well, okay. But you can't silence Homer Simpson. I'm the friend of the downtrodden. And I'm not gonna forget what I saw here today. |
Now, Homer, we've developed this additive that makes beer super, super malty. Care to try it? | Wait a minute. Will this erase my memory? |
Good grief. | Oh, my head. How long have I been out here? |
All night. You were yelling at the swing. | I was? But I love the swing. |
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