Luigi: Homer is out of control. He gave me a bad review. So my friend put a horse head in his bed. He ate the head and gave it a bad review. True story.
Captain McAllister: Arr, well I've had it with Homer. His bad reviews are sinking our businesses.
Akira: Then why did you put yours in the window?
Captain McAllister: Arr, it covered up the D from the health inspector.
Restaurant Owner: Well I say we ban Homer from our restaurants.
Akira: No, that would be impolite. I say we kill him.
Izzy: Now hold on a minute. Are we restaurateurs or are we murderers?
Captain McAllister: Does that answer your question? [Points to a plaque on the wall intended for Homer's head.]
Akira: We'll kill him at the Taste of Springfield Festival. Well give Homer all he can eat, 'til he can eat no more. Then he'll get his just dessert.
French Chef: [Showing a picture of an eclair] This will be Homer Simpson's last lagniappe.
Restaurant Owner: Come on, you're gonna kill him with a pastry? I've seen this man eat a bowl of change.
French Chef: This eclair is over one million calories, 25 lbs of butter per square inch, covered with chocolate so dark, light cannot escape its surface. [Everyone else drools and paws at the picture.] No, no, no. This is just a picture. But Homer Simpson will find the real thing both delicious and deadly.
Akira: Ah yes, death by chocolate. Ah ha ha ha.
French Chef: And poison. I'll stick in some poison.
Abe: [Showing Bart his tattoo] I got this in the second World War II.Phaneron
Chinese Consulate: Your adoption application is in perfect order, except for one thing. You forgot to fill out the name of your husband.
Chinese Consulate: Of course. The Chinese government only allows wholesome married couples to adopt. No hen without cock. I apologize if that is a double entendre in your language. It is not in ours.
Selma: Don't worry, I'll just write my husband's name on this form. Have you ever heard of MacGyver?
Chinese Consulate: Oh yes. Big star. Big star. We know he's not married to you.
Gavin's mom: Gavin, don't you already have this game?
Gavin: No Mom, you idiot! I have "Bloodstorm" and "Bone Squad" and "Bloodstorm II," stupid!
Gavin's mom: Oh I'm sorry, honey. We'll take a "Bonestorm."
Gavin: We'll get two, I'm not sharing with Caitlin.
[A short time later, Bart is arrested for shoplifting.]
Gavin's mom: Tsk tsk tsk tsk. That boy's parents must have made some terrible mistakes.
Gavin: Shut up, Mom.
Kent Brockman: That's game, set and match to us. But the real winners here are Marge's hors d'oeuvres.
Homer: Wow, how do you come up with such witty remarks?
Kent Brockman: Ha ha, well...
[Two men are suddenly shown in a news van giving Kent typed responses through an earpiece.]
Tech Guy #1: [to his coworker, who is typing out a response] Come on, come on. Hurry up. [The coworker hands him the response] "I guess you could say it's my racket."
Kent Brockman: I guess you could say I'm Iraqi.
Homer: [Gasps] Get off my property.
Homer: Welcome to the Internet, my friend. How can I help you?
Comic Book Guy: I'm interested in upgrading my 28.8 kilobaud Internet connection to a 1.5 megabit fiber optic T-1 line. Will you be able to provide an IP router that's compatible with my token ring ethernet LAN configuration?
[The two look at each other awkwardly for a few seconds.]
Homer: Can I have some money now?
Groundskeeper Willie: Yeah, I bought your mutt, and I 'ate him. I 'ate his little face. I 'ate his guts. And I 'ate the way he's always barking, so I gave him to the church.
Bart: Oh, I see. You hate him, so you gave him to the church.
Groundskeeper Willie: Aye, I also 'ate the mess he left on me rug.
[Two bandits have stolen the grease Homer is collecting to sell]
Homer: Hey, hey, you're taking our grease!
Grease Bandit #1: It's our grease now. [Takes away Homer's shovel and hits him over the head with it.]
Grease Bandit #2: We run the grease racket in this town.
Homer: Hey, that's my shovel.
Grease Bandit #1: We also run the shovel racket.
[Hans Moleman is about to be executed and Homer has eaten his last meal.]
Reverend Lovejoy: Alright Hans, time to go.
Hans Moleman: But he ate my last meal.
Reverend Lovejoy: If that's the worst thing that happens to you today, consider yourself lucky.
Hans Moleman: Are you really allowed to execute people in a local jail?
Reverend Lovejoy: From this point on, no talking.