Marge: Tomorrow night, it might be nice to go out for dinner.
Homer: Tomorrow night? Friday? Pork chop night? Marge! We haven't missed pork chop night since the great pig scare in '87!
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Mr. Burns: (reading Homer's letter) "Dear Mr. Burns. I'm so glad you enjoyed my son's blood, and your card was just great." Why Simpson, you've made my day, you're a true gentlemen.
Homer: Well I-
Mr. Burns: Hello, there's more. (continues reading) "In case you can't tell, I'm being sarcastic. You stink! You are a senile bucktoothed old mummy with bony girl arms and you smell like an elephant's butt!"
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