Milhouse: Come on, Bart. You're gonna make me a print, aren't you? Bart: Will you swear not to let another living soul get a copy of this photo? Milhouse: Okay! Bart: Cross your heart and hope to die? Milhouse: Yep! Bart: Stick a needle in your eye? Milhouse: Yep! Bart: Jam a dagger in your thigh? Milhouse: Yep! Bart: Eat a horse manure pie? Milhouse: (Thinks for a second) Yep! Bart: Well, okay.
Marge: So, how was the office birthday party? Homer: Oh, it was delightful. The frosting on the cake was this thick. (Uses thumb and index finger to indicate the thickness.) And Eugene Fisk--my poor sucker of an assistant--didn't know the fruit punch was spiked, and he really made an ass of himself putting the moves on the new girl in Valve Maintenance. Ha, ha, ha. Marge: Does this girl like him? Homer: Pffft. I have to warn you, Marge. I think the poor young thing has the hots for Yours Truly. Marge: Homer! Homer: Just keepin' you on your toes, babe.