smurfx said:
This is a thousand monkeys working at a thousand typewriters. Soon, they'll have written the greatest novel known to mankind. (reads one of the typewriters) "It was the best of times, it was the blurst of times"?! you stupid monkey! (monkey screeches) Oh, shut up.
Blurst of times is so fucking good.
Homer: Can't they get a pole for that sign?
Bart: It's a hitchhiker, Homer.
Homer: Oooh, let's pick him up!
Marge: No, what if he's crazy?
Homer: And what if he's not? Then we'd look like idiots.
Larry: Oh this is some party. If it gets any livelier, a funeral's gonna break out.
Mr. Burns: Quiet, you. Nobody likes a comedian.
Larry: Geez, come on dad. We got company. Make with the yakkety yak yak.
Mr. Burns: Ohhh, yakkety yak y-- [to Homer] You, foodbag. Do you have a son?
Homer: Yes sir I do.
Mr. Burns: And is he a constant disappointment? Does he bring home nitwits and make you talk to them?
Homer: Oh all the time! Have you ever heard of this kid Milhouse? He's a little wiener who-
Mr. Burns: Fascinating. Goodnight!
Marge: What're you doing in the basement? It's like you're hiding out down here.
Homer: Hiding out? Pfffft. Marge, you've been reading too hideout books.
Marge: And what's that hitchhiker doing here? Is every drifter we meet going to move in with us?
Homer: Of course not. We'll decide that on a drifter-by-drifter basis.
Lisa: He's not a drifter, mom. That's Mr. Burns' son, Larry.
Bart: He's great at pointing out everyone's foibles.
Larry: Hey, how ya doin? Ooooh look at your hair! What happened, you saw yourself in the mirror?
Bart: He's kidding mom. But seriously, I'd love to have hair like yours. I just can't get the zoning permits.
Lisa: Hey that reminds me, mom. Buckingham Palace called, they want their hat back.
Marge: Mmmmmm.
Larry: Hey kids, how 'bout a hand for your mom. She's alright!
Everyone [applauding]: Yeah mom! Woohoo mom!
Marge: Ohh, yeah. Thank you.
Lisa: Hey, I think I got a Pai Gow!
Bart [groans]: Ahh, I hate Pai Gow. Can't we just play Quang Jong??