Ah, yes! John Quincy Adding Machine. He struck a chord with the voters when he pledged not to go on a killing spree. You’re going back for the Countess, aren’t you? I meant ‘physically’. Look, perhaps you could let me work for a little food? I could clean the floors or paint a fence, or service you sexually? I was having the most wonderful dream. Except you were there, and you were there, and you were there!
I’m sorry, guys. I never meant to hurt you. Just to destroy everything you ever believed in. Uh, is the puppy mechanical in any way? Leela, are you alright? You got wanged on the head. Now what? You know the worst thing about being a slave? They make you work, but they don’t pay you or let you go.
Oh A Sarcasm Detector
Oh, a *sarcasm* detector. Oh, that’s a *really* useful invention! Uh, no, they’re saying “Boo-urns, Boo-urns.” I don’t like being outdoors, Smithers. For one thing, there’s too many fat children. What good is money if it can’t inspire terror in your fellow man? When I held that gun in my hand, I felt a surge of power…like God must feel when he’s holding a gun. You don’t win friends with salad.
That’s About all, I think
Donuts. Is there anything they can’t do? Homer no function beer well without. Fat Tony is a cancer on this fair city! He is the cancer and I am the…uh…what cures cancer? No children have ever meddled with the Republican Party and lived to tell about it.
Please do not offer my god a peanut. Your questions have become more redundant and annoying than the last three “Highlander” movies.
[introducing himself] I am the man with no name, Zapp Brannigan! [having quickly written a book to trap the Big Brain in] There, now he’s trapped in a book I wrote: a crummy world of plot holes and spelling errors! It’s just like the story of the grasshopper and the octopus. All year long, the grasshopper kept burying acorns for winter, while the octopus mooched off his girlfriend and watched TV. But then the winter came, and the grasshopper died, and the octopus ate all his acorns. Also he got a race car. Is any of this getting through to you? With gusto.
How much did you make me? And yet you haven’t said what I told you to say! How can any of us trust you? That could be ‘my’ beautiful soul sitting naked on a couch. If I could just learn to play this stupid thing. Daylight and everything. Ow, my spirit!
Also Zoidberg. That’s right, baby. I ain’t your loverboy Flexo, the guy you love so much. You even love anyone pretending to be him! Yes. You gave me a dollar and some candy. Enough about your promiscuous mother, Hermes! We have bigger problems. We can’t compete with Mom! Her company is big and evil! Ours is small and neutral!
5 Comments
#003 : November 1, 2010
I can’t get involved! I’ve got work to do! It’s not that I like the Empire, I hate it, but there’s nothing I can do about it right now. It’s such a long way from here. All right. Well, take care of yourself, Han. I guess that’s what you’re best at, ain’t it? In my experience, there is no such thing as luck.
#004 : November 1, 2010
Beer. Now there’s a temporary solution. Fire can be our friend; whether it’s toasting marshmallows or raining down on Charlie. Save me, Jeebus.
Fat Tony is a cancer on this fair city! He is the cancer and I am the…uh…what cures cancer? Dad didn’t leave… When he comes back from the store, he’s going to wave those pop-tarts right in your face! A woman is a lot like a refrigerator. Six feet tall, 300 pounds…it makes ice.
#005 : November 1, 2010
Homer no function beer well without. “Thank the Lord”? That sounded like a prayer. A prayer in a public school. God has no place within these walls, just like facts don’t have a place within an organized religion. Your questions have become more redundant and annoying than the last three “Highlander” movies.
Donuts. Is there anything they can’t do? Dad didn’t leave… When he comes back from the store, he’s going to wave those pop-tarts right in your face! I’ll be back. You can’t keep the Democrats out of the White House forever, and when they get in, I’m back on the streets, with all my criminal buddies. That’s why I love elementary school, Edna. The children believe anything you tell them.
#006 : November 12, 2010
I’ve had it with this school, Skinner. Low test scores, class after class of ugly, ugly children… Jesus must be spinning in his grave! Your guilty consciences may make you vote Democratic, but secretly you all yearn for a Republican president to lower taxes, brutalize criminals, and rule you like a king! I was saying “Boo-urns.”
#007 : November 12, 2010
Kids, kids. I’m not going to die. That only happens to bad people. Your questions have become more redundant and annoying than the last three “Highlander” movies. I’m normally not a praying man, but if you’re up there, please save me, Superman. Brace yourselves gentlemen. According to the gas chromatograph, the secret ingredient is… Love!? Who’s been screwing with this thing? Marge, just about everything’s a sin. [holds up a Bible] Y’ever sat down and read this thing? Technically we’re not supposed to go to the bathroom.