Homer: (Reading Mad Magazine) Ooh, "Snappy Answers to Stupid Questions"! I'm great at these. Ask me if something smells funny in here, Boy.
Bart: Does something smell funny in here?
Homer: I don't think so...stupid! (laughs)
Marge: Homey, you want pork chops?
Homer: No, I want roast beef, you clod! (laughs)
Moe: Man! You go through life, you try to be nice to people, you struggle to resist the urge to punch in the face, and for what? For some pimply little puke to treat like dirt unless you're on a team. Well, I'm better than dirt -- well, most kinds of dirt. I mean, not that fancy store-bought dirt. That stuff's loaded with nutrients. I -- I can't compete with that stuff.
(Mr. Smithers filing Burn's nails)
Burns: Ohh! I need some more ether. I can still feel the movement of the emory board.
Smithers: (checks bottle) We're fresh out, Sir. I'll get some more.
Burns: Leave the rag. (sniffs it) Mmm... (Smithers walks out; Homer sneaks in)
Homer: Uh...excuse me, Mr. Burns?
Burns: Poppin' Fresh! You glutinous little doughboy. (Homer morphs into Poppin' Fresh in Burns' mind) There's something I've wanted to do to you for years! (starts poking his stomach; Homer giggles)
Homer: (getting his eyes poked at) Ow! Heh, Mr. Burns? I, er, was wondering if you'd like to sponsor my bowling team...for... $500.
Burns: Ho ho, why, certainly, Poppin' Fresh! I owe my robust physique to your tubes of triple-bleached goo.
Homer: Woo hoo! (runs out] Hey, everybody: if you want to ask Burns for a favor, now's the time! He's doped up, or dying, or something.
Homer: Come on, guys! Let's be the team that supports each other. You can do it, Otto! You can do it, Otto! Help each other out: that'll be our motto! (Apu and Moe join in) You can do it, Otto! You can do it, Otto!
Apu: Make this spare; I'll give you free gelato!
Moe: Then back to my place, where I will get you blotto!
Homer: Domo Arigato, Mr. Roboto.
All: You can do it, Otto! You can do it --
Otto: Uh, guys? I made the spare. We won!
All: (pause) Yay!
Homer: Let me set the scene for you, Marge.
Marge: All right.
Homer: It's a 7-10 split.
Marge: Uh huh?
Homer: The hardest shot in bowling. It was all up to me --
Marge: Oh!
Homer: -- so I got up all my courage. Right away, my lips started to move, and I came up with the chant that won the match!
Marge: Who knocked down the pins?
Homer: I don't know. You know, some guy, er...Otto, I guess.
Marge: Good for him!
Homer: Yes, but -- Marge, you're not -- you're missing the point! The individual doesn't matter. It was a team effort, and I was the one who came up with the whole team idea...me!
Marge: I can't believe Otto picked up a 7-10 split -- he's phenomenal!
Homer: But --
Marge: Wow!
(Bart and Lisa walk in kitchen in uniforms)
Bart: Mom, my slingshot doesn't fit in these pockets. And these shorts leave nothing to the imagination. These uniforms suck!
Marge: Bart! Where do you pick up words like that?
Homer: (on phone) Yeah, Moe, that team sure did suck last night. They just plain sucked! I've seen teams suck before, but they were the suckiest bunch of sucks that ever sucked.
Marge: Homer! Watch your mouth!
Homer: Aw, I gotta go. My damn weiner kids are listening. (hangs up)
Lisa: We are not weiners!
Homer: Then what are you dressed like that for?
Bart+Lisa: They made us.
Homer: "Oh, they made us." That's loser-talk! You gotta start acting more like me and my team, the future champions of the world. Nothing's going to stop us now!
Skinner: Ah, these uniforms are godsend. Horseplay is down 40%, youthful exuberance has been cut in half, high spirits are at an all-time low.
Doris: They've even begun blinking in unison. (the students blink and make sound)
Skinner: I love that sound!
Edna: Now, children, while you're having quiet time, I'm going to make sure my desk is exactly parallel to the rear wall. (bends over her desk with her butt pointing towards Bart)
Bart: (holding his slingshot) Oh. There's something I used to do in this situation, but...can't...remember!
Nelson: Ha...ho?
Homer: Oh, Marge, we were so close to winning the championship. Now, thanks to Burns, it's never going to happen. And I spend so much time building that trophy case. (shows badly built trophy case with an Oscar atop it)
Marge: Homer, maybe Mr. Burns will bowl a great game, and you will win your championship!
Homer: So you're saying...we're definitely going to win? Woo hoo! (grabs Oscar) I won't need this any more! (tries flushing it; flushes again and again) Marge, someone broke the toilet!