(Bart prank calls Moe's Tavern.) Moe: Moe's Tavern, where the elite meet to drink. Bart: Uh, hello. Is Mike there? Last name, Rotch. Moe: Hold on, I'll check. (Calls out) Mike Rotch! Mike Rotch! Hey, has anybody seen Mike Rotch lately? (Everyone snickers) Moe: (to Bart) Listen to me, you little puke. One of these days, I'm going to catch you and I'm going to carve my name on your back with an ice pick.
Homer: Bart, you keep an eye out for the mailman. Just give me some kind of signal. Bart: Dad, the mailman's here. Homer: That's a good one. We'll use that. (A postwoman appears behind Homer) Bart: No! I mean the mailman's here. (Homer screams) Postwoman: Dear God! Are you planning to water the mail? Homer: I guess it wouldn't do any good to run 'cause you're a mail-lady and you know my name and address and everything, huh? Postwoman: That's right. Homer: Well... I'm still going to run. (Homer runs away)