Difference between revisions of "Treehouse of Horror XXXV/Quotes"

Latest revision as of 13:41, November 5, 2024

Mayor Quimby: Thanks to Lisa Simpson's tireless and tiresome advocacy, Springfield will now be providing free LED light bulbs to every household.

The Rich Texan: I can use the money I save to pay for these louder bullets!

Sideshow Mel: I applaud Springfield for finally embracing a progressive idea.

The Rich Texan: Whoa, Nelly! It's a progressive idea? Well, now I hate it.

Tox News host: And in the culture wars, a new battle is being fought in the town of Springfield where they're coming after your light bulbs. What's next, your truck's testicles? Mrs. Butterworth's ample bosom?

Bart: Go, monster! Crush that sculpture garden.

Lisa: Wait. Bart, you're a right-winger?

Bart: Nah, I'm mostly just anti-you and anti-girl in general. And pro wrecking stuff that helps people.

Lisa: So that's a yes.

Professor Frink: Well, I guess those two little twerps over there will have to do.

Bart: Great. You just smooshed Otto.

Lisa: Ew. Gross.

Homer: Oh, giant donut, I'm sorry I ate all your babies!

Bart: If we can both laugh at a fat guy stuck in a donut, we can work together and kick some ass.

Lisa: Well, I guess civilization had a good run.

Bart: Did it?

Lisa: Concert halls were nice.

Bart: Trampoline gyms.

Lisa: Internet was a mistake, though.

Bart: Hmm. Probably.

Waylon Smithers: Work in Mr. Burns's corn syrup plant is done for the day.

[the employees cheer]

Smithers: Work building Mr. Burns's mansion begins for the night.

[the employees groan]

Lenny Leonard: Is this house ever gonna be finished? My father and grandfather died working on this place.

Groundskeeper Willie: You're looking at the four-time Aberdeen bone-yanking champion.

Agnes Skinner: You old fool. A promise made upon a Thanksgiving wishbone must never be broken.

Mr. Burns: Bah! That's just an old wives' tale.

Agnes: This has nothing to do with our divorce. Now you are cursed to be tormented by the souls of all you have wronged till the end of your days.

Mr. Burns: Now I remember why I married you.

Mr. Burns: [sighs] All alone on the holidays. Perhaps a sip of bi-hydrogenated oxygen before bed.

Mr. Burns: Must have been the wind. Yes, an indoor wind. Completely natural. Super natural, even. A pair of normal occurrences.

Agnes: You starved your workers and made millions selling the corn syrup that will embiggen an unsuspecting nation for generations to come.

Mr. Burns: Farewell, you hectoring specters. You can't torment me if I'm dead. Ooh. I forgot about hell.

Smithers: What could have driven such a great man to burn himself and the house he loved?

Sideshow Mel: And on the day after Thanksgiving too. Truly it will henceforth be known as Black Friday. A day that will serve as a warning to never mistreat workers again, no matter how good the deal is.

Homer: I don't know, Barney. I've never really been a jeans guy.

Barney Gumble: Come on, Homer. A swinging bachelor like you needs flashy pants.

Homer: Amazing. You can see where my butt ends and my legs begin instead of being one big bleurgh.

Snake Jailbird: I'll take all the cash in the register. And is that a chocolate chip scone?

Marge: Raisin.

Snake: Ugh. No, just the cash.

Homer: What the hell is going on?

Denim: Calm down, Homer. I am Denim. A bio-adaptive symbiote.

Homer: A symbi-what?

Denim: I'm magical pants, okay?

Denim: I've traveled from my home planet--Wrang-lor, in the 501 galaxy--because it is in the throes of a climate catastrophe. Toxins have leached into our precipitation, turning my kind into acid-washed jeans.

Homer: But isn't that cool?

Denim: It's never been cool.

Denim: To survive on your planet, our species requires a human host. And my host is you. Your undercarriage is so wide, and your methane exhaust so nourishing.

Denim: One chili dog, extra beans.

Raphael: Yeah. You got it, talking crotch.

Marge: I've never seen such amazing leg dancing before. I didn't even bother to look at your top half, but I'm sure it was just as good.

Marge: That was the most amazing outercourse of my life.

Homer: Well, I like to think I'm something of an expert at friction-based rub-a-dub.

Homer: Look, Denim. We've had some laughs, danced, leg-strangled a guy. And I could have never gotten Marge without you. There's no easy way to say this, but maybe it's time for me to fart in other pants.

Denim: No, no, no. Homer, don't break up with me. No one will ever flatter your ass like I do.

Homer: Run, Marge, run! Run from my pants!

Homer: Stop. I'm never gonna let anything come between us again. These past weeks have been the best of my life. I can't live without you.

Marge: Oh, Homie. I love you too.

Homer: Uh, yeah, I wasn't talking to you.

Denim: Yes! Thank you, Jeansus.

Marge: [sniffles] Oh. Deep down, I knew it all along.