Lisa: Dad, this isn't about glue, it's about territoriality. He only wants the glue because I'm using it. Bart: Oh yeah, prove it :she hands him the glue: Hey man, I don't want your stupid glue. Bart: Who the hell is that? Homer: Bullwinkle. Bart: Who? Wait a minute, who's that? Homer: Underdog, don't you know anything? Bart: It wouldn't hurt them to use some cartoons made in the last fifty years. Homer: Bart, this is the tradition. If you build a balloon for every flash in the pad cartoon character, you'll turn the parade into a farce. :Bart balloon shows up on the television:
Bart: :sings: Mom, it's broken, mom it's broken, mom it's broken, mom it's broken... Abe: What's your hurry? Homer: This place is depressing. Abe: Hey! I live here! Homer: I'm sure it's a blast once you get used to it. Marge: Mom, you made it! How are you? Jacqueline: I have laringitis. It hurts to talk, so I'll just say one thing: You never do anything right. Homer: And lord, we're especially thankful for nuclear power, the cleanest safest energy source there is. Except for solar, which is just a pipe dream. Anyway, we'd like to thank you for the occasional moments of peace and love our family's experienced. Well, not today, you saw what happened! Oh lord, be honest! Are we the most pathetic family in the universe or what? Family: Amen. Selma: Worst prayer yet. Lady: Hey, you gotta be eighteen to sell your blood, lets see some ID. Bart: Here you go, doll face! Lady: Okay, Homer, just relax. Jacqueline: At the risk of losing my voice, let me just say one more thing. I'm sorry I came. Patty: When is that boy going to apologize? Selma: He sure is stubborn. Abe: Homer was never stubborn. He always folded instantly over everything. It was as if he had no will of his own. Isn't that true, Homer? Homer: Yes, dad! Kent: Oh we have lots of names for these people. Bums, deadbeats, losers, scums of the earth, we'd like to sweep these people into the gutter, or if already in the gutter, to some other out of the way place. Oh we have our reasons. They're depressing, their ragged clothes, they're crazy, they smell bad. So every year on one concience salving day, we toss these people a bone. A turkey bone. And that's supposed to make it all better. Homer: Hello, operator, give me the number for 911! Marge: Now we can blame him for everything! Homer: It's your fault I'm bald. Abe: It's your fault I'm old. Maggie: It's your fault I can't talk! Everyone: It's all your fault! It's all your fault! It's all your fault! Bart: I don't know why I did it, I don't know why I enjoyed it, and I don't know why I'll do it again!
