Bart Star:
Smithers: That's the end of the girl's floor exercise. Now, let's
bring on the men!
^ Just the excited way Smithers says that cracks me up.
Marge and Homer Turn a Couple Play:
Marge: Weren't you just tied up in a blimp?
Duffman:
Three Duffmen are working the game tonight! But don't tell the kids; it's disillusioning!
Duffman/Duffman 2: (almost simultaneously, as they thrust their pelvises at each other) Duffman! Duffman! Duffman!
^ This is the best Duffman joke ever. What's better than one Duffman? Two Duffmen.
I'm Spelling as Fast as I Can:
George Plimpton: Okay, your word is "whether/weather".
Sun Moon: Um, which one? Could you use it in a sentence?
George Plimpton: Certainly: "I don't know
whether the
weather will improve."
^ You scumbag.
Lisa's Date With Density:
(after listening to Homer's autodial message)
Mr. Burns: One dollar for eternal happiness. Mmmm... I'd be happier
with the dollar.
Marge Be Not Proud:
Homer: I've figured out the boy's punishment. First, he's grounded. No leaving the house, not even for school. Second, no egg nog. In fact,
no nog, period. And third, absolutely no stealing for three months.
Sweet Seymour Skinner's Baadasssss Song:
Chalmers: You're fired!
Skinner: I'm sorry, did... did you just call me a liar?!
Chalmers: No, I said you were fired.
Skinner: Oh. That's much worse. (hiccups)
Also:
Skinner: One question remains: How do I get out of the army?
Bart: No problemo. Just make a pass at your commanding officer!
Skinner: Done and done. And I mean
done.
The Front:
Secretary: Is this the Abraham Simpson who wrote the Itchy and Scratchy episode?
Grampa: Ishy and what? You must be some kind of crazy person.
Secretary: I'm sorry, but we have a substantial check here for a Mr. Abraham Simpson.
Grampa: That's right! I did the Iggy!
Also:
Roger Meyers: You're so good, I fired the other writers. From now on, the fate of the entire company rests on that delightful coconut of yours.
Grampa: Oh no! We're all doomed! I'm a complete fraud!
Roger Meyers: I'm sorry, I didn't catch any of that. And now I've gotta go.
Lisa the Iconoclast:
Hurlburt: Get out! You're banned from this historical society! You, and your children, and your children's children! (beat) For three months.
^ Yeah, I'm sure Lisa will become a grandmother in the span of three months.
The Wandering Juvie:
Quimby: Remember, if anyone asks: You're my niece from out of town.
Woman: I -am- your niece, Uncle Joe!
Quimby: Good Lord, I'm an abomination!