Marge: You bought that bowling ball for you, not for me. Homer: What? No! Marge: The holes were drilled for your fingers. Homer: Well, I wanted to surprise you. I couldn't very well chop your hand off and bring it to the store, could I? Marge: You never intended for me to use that ball. Homer: Well, if that's how you feel, I'll take it back. Marge: You can't take it back! You had your name engraved on it! Homer: So you'd know it was from me! Marge: Homer, I'm keeping the ball...for myself! Homer: What? But you don't know how to bowl. Whoops! Marge: I'm keeping it, and I'm going to use it. Thank you for the present, Homer. (Marge clicks off the light and goes to bed.) Homer: Well...you're...welcome.
Marge: You're a very good teacher. Jacques: Yes, I am a very good teacher, and I can teach you everything. I can tell you what the little arrows on the wood floor mean,-- Marge: Hmmm. Jacques: --which frame is the beer frame. I bet you don't know how to make a five-seven-ten split. Do you, Marge? Marge: Hmmm, no. Jacques: Well, first of all, you yell, "The eight-pin is a cop!"