Homer Simpson: Marge, in every marriage you get one chance to say, "I need you to do this with me." And there's only one answer when somebody says that.
Marge Simpson: OK Homie, I'm with ya.
Homer: Thank you my sweetheart.
Bart Simpson: Mom?
Marge: Yes honey?
Bart: You just bought another load of crap from the world's fattest fertiliser salesman!
Marge: You have to go out there, face that mob and apologize for what you did.
Homer: I would, but I'm afraid if I open the door, they'll take all of you!
Carl: [offscreen.] No we won't! We just want Homer!
Homer: Well, maybe not you, but they'll kill Grandpa!
Abe: [offscreen.] I'm part of the mob!
Marge Simpson: I hate being late.
Homer Simpson: Well I hate going. Why can't I worship the Lord in my own way: by praying like hell on my deathbed.
Marge Simpson: Homer, they can hear you inside!
Homer Simpson: Relax. Those pious morons are too busy talking to their phony-baloney God.
[Stony stares from the congregation.]
Homer Simpson: Hey, how you doing? Peace be with you. Praise Jebus.