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The-simpsons

Homer: What does everyone say to some miniature golf, followed by a round of frosty chocolate milkshakes!
Bart: All right!
Marge: Mmm, I was going to wash my hair.
Lisa: And I'm studying for the math fair. If I win, I'll bring home a brand-new protractor.
Homer: Too bad we don't live on a farm.

(Lisa preps Bart before the golf tournament)
Lisa: Eighth hole.
Bart: Aim for the octopus' third tentacle.
Lisa: Twelfth hole.
Bart: Bank it off the pink tombstone.
Lisa: Nirvana.
Bart: State of bliss attained through the extinction of the self.

(At Springfield Stadium, the entire crowd laughs as Mr. Burns weakly throws out the first pitch.)
Homer: Hey, Burns! Hey, rag arm!
Bart: You throw like my sister, man!
Lisa: Yeah, you throw like me!

(Before the baseball game at Springfield Stadium, the Simpson family watches the players warm-up.)
Bart: Oh, wow! There's Flash Baylor! I gotta get his autograph! He used to be a star!
(Bart makes his way to the outfield fence.)
Bart: Hey, Flash, will you sign my ball?
Flash Baylor: (Flatly) No.
(A disappointed Bart returns back to his seat.)
Bart: (Muttering) Lousy, washed-up, broken down tub of guts. Who does he think he is, anyway?
Homer: What's the matter, boy?
Bart: He wouldn't sign my ball.
Marge: (Upset) Well, he's a fine role model. Bart, give me that ball!
(Marge makes her way to the outfield fence.)
Outfielder: Hey, Flash, check out the mature quail headin' this way.
Flash Baylor: Well, hey there, little lady. What can Flash do for ya?
(Cut to Marge returning back to her seat and handing Bart's ball back to him.)
Marge: Here you go, Bart.
Bart: Hmm. (Reading baseball) "Springfield Kozy Kort Motel, room 26. How 'bout it? Flash."
Homer: Wow! Flash Baylor came onto my wife! You've still got the magic, Marge.

(Bart and Milhouse say goodbye, as Bart is headed off to Capital City.)
Milhouse: I don't know, Bart. I mean, I'm gonna miss you and all, but--
Bart: Come on, Milhouse. This way we'll be friends forever.
Milhouse: Wellokay.
(Bart and Milhouse spit on each other's hands and shake.)
Bart and Milhouse: (In unison) Eeeew!
Bart: I'm gonna miss you, spit brother.
Milhouse: I'm gonna miss you, spit brother.

(In a publicity stunt, Mr. Burns is a dinner guest at the Simpson home.)
Homer: Bart, would you like to say grace?
Bart: Dear God, we paid for all this stuff ourselves, so thanks for nothing.
(Everyone gasps.)
Mr. Burns: (Chuckles) Only an innocent child could get away with such blasphemy. God bless them all. Amen.
(Everyone sighs.)

(A stranger happens upon Bart and Lisa as they fish in a pond.)
Dave Shutton: Ah. So, kids, caught anything?
Lisa: Not yet, sir.
Dave Shutton: Uh-huh. Uh, what are you using for bait?
Lisa: My brother's using worms, but I, who feel the tranquility far outweighs the actual catching of fish, am using nothing.
Dave Shutton: I see. And, uh, what's your name, son?
Bart: I'm Bart Simpson. Who the hell are you?
Dave Shutton: (Chuckles) I'm Dave Shutton. I'm an investigative reporter who's on the road a lot, and, uh, I must say that in my day, we didn't talk that way to our elders.
Bart: Well, this is my day and we do, sir.

(Homer leaves for work)
Lisa: Don't spill anything!
Bart: Keep those mutants coming, Homer!
Homer: I'll mutant you.

(Lisa finishes reading The Raven.)
Bart: Lisa, that wasn't scary, not even for a poem.
Lisa: Well, it was written in 1845. Maybe people were easier to scare back then.
Bart: Oh, yeah. Like when you look at Friday the 13th, part one. It's pretty tame by today's standards.

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