Mr. Burns: Must call Smithers. He'll protect me from this beast. I've seen people activate this machine a thousand times. Doesn't seem to be any trick to it. Let's see, Smithers [begins dialing], S-M-I-T-H-E-R-S. Success, it's ringing!
Moe: Moe's Tavern.
Mr. Burns: I'm looking for a Mr. Smithers. First name: Waylon
Moe: Oh, so you're looking for a Mr. Smithers, eh? First name Waylon, is it? Listen to me, you! When I catch you I'm gonna pull out your eyes and shove 'em down your pants, so you can watch me kick the crap out of you! Okay!? Then I'm gonna use your tongue to paint my boat!
Bart: May I be excused, Mom?
Homer: Oh, so now you're quitting dinner too.
Marge: Homer, please.
Homer: I didn't raise him to be a quitter, Marge. It must have been you. You've quit every job you've had. Cop, pretzel vendor, church counselor, professional gambler.
Marge: He's doing what he thinks is best.
Homer: Well if quitting is the best, maybe I should just quit my job. [Picks up the phone and calls Mr. Burns.]
Mr. Burns: Ahoy-hoy.
Homer: Mr. Burns, this is Homer J. Simpson. The father of the big quitter. Well I just wanted to tell you I'm a big quitter too, and I quit [winks at phone].
Marge: Homer, Mr. Burns can't see you winking.
Homer: So? [Screams].
Homer: Look at these bills: chains for elephant. Shots for elephant. Over-sized decorative poncho?
Bart: Technically it's for a giraffe, but I think I can let it out a little.
Homer: Well these bills will have to be paid out of your allowance.
Bart: You'll have to raise my allowance to about a thousand dollars a week.
Homer: Then that's what I'll do, smart guy.
George Plimpton: Alright, your word is "whether."
Sun Moon: Which one? Can you use it in a sentence?
George Plimpton: Certainly. "I don't know whether the weather will improve."
Sun Moon: Uh, ooh, W, uh, um, E... [gets disqualified]
George Plimpton: Alex, your word is "rigged." As in, "This contest is rigged."
Alex: R-I-G-G-E-D. "Wigged."
George Plimpton: Bravo, my pet. You shall be champion, assuming Lisa misspells this next word. The word is "intransigence."
Lisa: Could I please hear it in a sentence?
George Plimpton: Certainly. "The little girl's intransigence cost her the college of her choice."
Lisa: "Intransigence." I...
Homer: Daddy made it for your dance recital, honey!
Lisa: Dad, you do care.
Homer: Damn right. You're number one on my menu. Now super-size it.
Lisa: With you here, I can't fail. Attention everyone. I was asked to take a dive, but I won't do it! I-N-T-R-A-N-S-I-G-A-N-C-E.
George Plimpton: You fool, it's "E-N-C-E."
Lisa: Oh my god, you're right. I spelled it wrong. I tried my best and I failed.
George Plimpton: And now you lose everything. And I go back to whatever it is I do.
George Plimpton: Welcome to the games of the 34th "Spellympiad." I'm George Plimpton, founder of "The Paris Review." I also play the evil dean in "Boner Academy."
Homer: You monster! Why did you expel Boogerman?
George Plimpton: He replaced my tennis racket with a rubber phallus.
Marge: Ooh, a rattle. Thank you, Selma.
Moe: Yeah, great present, Selma. Nice of you to break a five.
Selma: Get a neck, Frankenstein.
Moe: Hey, open my present. Open my present. It's Uncle Moe's play tavern, with classic drunk Barney. Look, even the little toilet is broken.
Marge: I don't know if toy drunkards are an appropriate gift for a baby.
Moe: Sure they are. They even talk, look [flips switch on a Homer figurine].
Homer Figurine: I peed my pants.
Homer: I recorded that for private use!
J. Jonah Jameson: Awe, that's sweet. I hate sweet. I need photos. Photos of Spider-Man!
Poetry Journal Assistant: This is a poetry journal.
J. Jonah Jameson: Okay then, poems about Spider-Man. And I want them finished before you start. And before you finish, get me some coffee. And the poems should have the following rhyme scheme: A-B-B-A-A-B-B-A-C-D-E-C-D-E. What are you waiting for, Chinese New Year?
Poetry Journal Assistant: Chief, we just got a submission from a brilliant poet no-one's ever heard of.
J. Jonah Jameson: Huh, huh, hmm. Genius. Pay him nothing and run it on the cover. [Picks up phone] Stop the presses, send my wife some flowers, and bring me an Advil. What do you mean you don't work for me? You're hired. Now that you're hired, you're fired. Now that you don't work here, we can be friends. Now that we're friends, how come you never call? Some friend you are! [Hangs up] God, I love this business.
Marge: Aren't you going to give him the Last Rites?
Reverend Lovejoy: That's Catholic, Marge. You might as well ask me to do a voodoo dance.
Lisa: Dr. Hibbert, I thought you located another kidney for Grampa?
Dr. Hibbert: Larry Hagman took it. He's got five of them now, and three hearts. We didn't want to give them to him, but he overpowered us.
Homer: Here we are: Branson, Missouri.
Male Charles Bronson Lookalike: No, pally. This is Bronson, Missouri.
Lisa: Well how do we get to Branson?
Female Charles Bronson Lookalike: Number 10 bus.
Child Charles Bronson Lookalike: Hey Ma, how 'bout some cookies?
Female Charles Bronson Lookalike: No dice.
Child Charles Bronson Lookalike: This ain't over.
Mayor Quimby: Alright, I'm in charge here.
Chief Wiggum: Oh, run along Quimby. I think they're dedicating a phone booth somewhere.
Mayor Quimby: Watch it, you talking tub of donut batter.
Chief Wiggum: Hey, I got pictures of you Quimby.
Mayor Quimby: You don't scare me. That could be anyone's ass.
Smithers: Sir, the actors are here to audition for the part of you.
Mr. Burns: Excellent.
Hannibal Lecter: Excellent. [Snarls].
Mr. Burns: Next.
William Shatner: Ex. Cell. Ent.
Mr. Burns: Next.
Homer: Exactly. Heh heh. D'oh!
Mr. Burns: Next.
Bumblebee Man: ¡Excelente!
Señor Spielbergo: Es muy bueno.
Mr. Burns: Oh, it's hopeless. I'll have to play myself.
Demon: So, you like donuts, eh?
Homer: Uh huh.
Demon: Well, have all the donuts in the world. [Laughs maniacally.]
[Homer proceeds to eat all the donuts in the world with little effort.]
Demon: I don't understand it. James Coco went mad in fifteen minutes.