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The-simpsons

(Homer attempts to contact his long lost brother over the phone)
Marge: Any luck, Homey?
Homer: No, I called all three Herbert Powells in Detroit. Nothing.
Marge: Hmm. Well, you wanna try that H. Powell? (Points in phonebook)
Homer: H.! Of course! That could stand for Herbert! It's a long shot, but--(Dials the phone)

(Homer introduces his kids to Herb.)
Herb: So, Lisa, are you the little hell-raiser your father told me about?
Lisa: No, sir. I can assure I'm not.
Bart: (Proudly) I'm the little hell-raiser, sir.
Marge: Would you like to hold the baby, Herb?
Herb: Oh, I'm afraid I wouldn't know how.
Homer: (Holding Maggie in one arm.) Oh, what's to know? Just dive in. Catch! (Tosses Maggie over to Herb.)
Herb: Oh! (Catches Maggie in his arms and smells her.) God, that new baby smell. Homer, you're the richest man I know.
Homer: (In awe) I feel the same about you.

(Herb gives the Simpsons a tour of his mansion.)
Herb: While you're here, I want you to make yourselves right at home. Anytime you're hungry, anytime day or night, Cook will make you anything you want.
Homer: Even pork chops?
Herb: Absolutely. We have a tennis court, a swimming pool, a screening room--
Homer: You mean, if I want pork chops, even in the middle of the night, your guy will fry 'em up?
Herb: Sure. That's what he's paid for. Now, if you need towels, laundry--
Homer: Wait!
Herb: Maids--
Homer: Wait, wait, wait, wait! Let me see if I've got this straight. It's Christmas day, 4:00 a.m., there's a rumble in my stomach--
Marge: Homer, please!
Herb: (Laughs and grabs Homer around the shoulder.) Your old man sure loves pork chops!
Bart: (Laughs) He sure does, Uncle Herb.

(Homer's artsy commercial for his newly designed car: The commercial uses far away shots of Homer driving the car on a mountain road overlooking the ocean and up close shots of Homer inside the car.)
Woman: (Off camera and singing.) Whatever Homer wants
Homer: (Narrating) All my life, I have searched for a car that feels a certain way.
Woman: (Off camera and singing.) Homer gets.
Homer: (Narrating) Powerful like a gorilla, yet soft and yielding like a Nerf ball. Now, at last, I have found it.
(A title card reads: "Homer, The Car Built for Homer.")

Homer: Hmm. But enough about Bart. Tell me, Principal Skinner, are you married?
Principal Skinner: Well, only to my job.
Homer: But if you weren't married to your job, you'd tend to go for a girl, right?
Principal Skinner: (chuckles) Well, of course.

(Bart prank calls Moe's from Principal Skinner's office.)
Bart: Hello? Is Homer there?
Moe: Homer who?
Bart: Homer (Lowers his voice) Sexual.
Moe: Wait one second. Let me check. Uh, Homer Sexual? Uh, come on. Come on. One of you guys has gotta be Homer Sexual.
(The entire bar laughs at Moe.)
Homer: Don't look at me! (Laughs)
Moe: Oh no... you rotten little punk, if I ever get a hold of you, I'll sink my teeth into your cheek and rip your face off!
(Principal Skinner takes the phone from Bart.)
Principal Skinner: You'll do what, young man?
Moe: What--what? Wait. Who--who is this?
Principal Skinner: I think the real question is who is this and where is Homer Simpson?!
Moe: Whoa, whoa. Sorry. Principal Skinner, sorry. It's--it's a bad connection, I think. (Hands phone to Homer.) Gah, it's for you. I think Bart is in trouble again.
Homer: D'oh!

"But" nothing, Marge. She's a heifer, plain and simple, and--(Selma walks into the room.)--Ooh! There's the little prom queen now.

(Marge orders Homer to find Selma a man fit to be her husband.)
Marge: Homer, you will find her a man!
Homer: All right.
Marge: And not just any man.
Homer: Okay.
Marge: He should be honest and, and caring and well off and handsome!
Homer: Hey, why should she have a better husband than you do?

Homer: Marge, honey, I've got five words to say to you: (Counts on fingers) Greasy Joe's Bottomless Bar-B-Q Pit!
Marge: Oh, Homer, remember you promised you'd try to limit pork to six servings a week?
Homer: Marge, I'm only human!

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