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!"
