jamesliu23/simpsons · Datasets at Hugging Face

text stringlengths 7 697
Hmmm. Hmmm. Not bad. Interesting.
I'll try this little pink one, here. Hmmm, very good. Another one.
Oh boy, this fish is dee-lish!
Hi. My name is Richie Sakai. I'm an anesthesiologist.
And I'd like to dedi-cate this next song to my wife, Patti. "I WAS BORN IN THE WAGON OF A TRAVELLING SHOW / MAMA USED TO DANCE FOR THE MONEY THEY'D THROW / PAPA WOULD DO WHATEVER HE COULD..."
... oh, oh, and two of these things.
Two uni.
And, Oh, Oh, I don't believe I've tried the flying fish roe...
I recommend it with a raw quail egg on top.
You're the doctor!
WHO'S THE BLACK PRIVATE DICK THAT'S THE SEX MACHINE TO ALL THE CHICKS?
You're damn right. WHO'S THE CAT THAT WON'T COP OUT / WHEN THERE'S DANGER ALL ABOUT?
Right on.
There's gotta be something I haven't tried. Huh? Hey! What's this? Fugu!
It is blowfish, sir. But I should warn you that one...
Come on, pal! Fugu me!
THEY SAY THIS CAT SHAFT IS A BAD MOTHER...
Shut your mouth!
But I'm talkin' about Shaft.
I can dig it!
HE'S A COMPLICATED MAN BUT NO ONE UNDERSTANDS HIM BUT HIS WOMAN.
John Shaft.
Oh, she's here. Cover for me.
One fugu.
Not fugu! If it is cut improperly it's... it's...
Yes, yes, it is poisonous, potentially fatal, but if sliced properly, it can be quite tasty.
I must get the Master.
Oh, Miss Krabappel, your hair smells so clean.
Master, you are needed in the kitchen.
I said cover for me, damn it!
But Master, we need your skilled hands.
My skilled hands are busy. You do it!
Poison, poison, tasty fish.
Concentrate. Concentrate...
I want fugu!
Mmmm. Fan-fugu-tastic.
Beautiful language, isn't it, Marge?
For God's sake, don't eat another bite!
Oh, I couldn't possibly.
Mr. Simpson-san. I shall be blunt. We have reason to believe you have eaten poison.
Poison! What should I do? What should I do? Tell me quick!
Oh, no need to panic. There's a map to the hospital on the back of the menu.
"Try something new, Homer. What'll it hurt you, Homer?" I never heard of a poison pork chop.
Hmmm, your wife agreed that I should break this to you.
No need, Doc. I can read Marge like a book.
Oooh! It's good news, isn't it?
No, Mr. Simpson. If in fact, you've consumed the venom of the blowfish -- and from what the chef has told me, it's quite probable, you have twenty-four hours to live.
Twenty-four hours?
Well, twenty-two. I'm sorry I kept you waiting so long.
Oh Marge, I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die.
Well, if there's one consolation it's that you will feel no pain at all until some time tomorrow evening when your heart suddenly explodes.
Now, a little death anxiety is normal. You can expect to go through five stages. The first is denial.
No way! Because I'm not dying.
The second is anger.
Why you little --
And after that comes fear.
What's after fear? What's after fear?
Bargaining.
Doc, you gotta get me out of this. I'll make it worth your while.
Finally, acceptance.
Well, we all gotta go some time.
Told ya. Now, come on. You're gonna learn how to shave.
Mr. Simpson, your progress astounds me. I-I should leave you two alone. Perhaps this pamphlet will be helpful.
So you're going to die...
Hello, Marge? Hello? I'm the one who's dying, not you.
I'm sorry, Homer. Have you thought about what you want to tell the kids?
Nothing. It'll just upset them. I want my last hours of family life to be happy ones.
Well, have you decided what you want to do tomorrow?
Almost.
I'm not done yet, Marge. What's that word you use for when you and I... you know...
When we're intimate?
Be intimate with Marge.
Can I just make one suggestion? Can we get up early and watch the sunrise together?
Ah, watch the sunrise.
Till six a.m., my dearest darling and my last day on earth.
Eleven-thirty! Oh, that's just great.
Marge, why did you let me sleep so late?
You looked so peaceful lying there.
There'll be plenty of time for that! I've got tons of important stuff to do.
Bart! Bart!
Have man-to-man with Bart.
Come here, boy.
Oh, man.
Nooo, I just want to have a heart-to-heart talk.
You know, Bart, after me, you're the man around the house, and that means you're gonna have to help out with --
Oh, come on, I do plenty around here! Lisa never lifts a finger. Why don't you go yell at her?
Shut up! Bart, this is good stuff. I want to share something with you -- the three little sentences that will get you through life. Number one, "cover for me." Number two, "oh, good idea, boss." Number three, "it was like that when I got here."
Hey, this is good stuff.
...and, finally, the little spot under your nose. Next, we take some toilet paper, tear off some teensy little squares, and stick one there, and there, and any place you're bleeding. There and there. Don't worry, the blood will hold it right on your face. Now, some aftershave.
Ah! Ooh! Arg! Son of a -- ! Ah! And that's how we shave.
Oh, Why you little --
It was like that when I got here.
Oh, that's my boy.
Listen to Lisa play her sax.
Hi, Dad. Want me to cut out this infernal racket?
No. Let me hear you play.
Does a father have to explain? Let's just share your gift, okay?
Yeah, that's more like it! "OH, I WANT TO BE IN THAT RUMBA / WHEN THE SAINTS GO OVER THERE.... OVER THERE... OVER THERE."
Simpson, what a pleasant surprise. We were just pulling taffy.
Gee, the fun never stops at the Flanders house, does it?

Hmmm. Hmmm. Not bad. Interesting.

I'll try this little pink one, here. Hmmm, very good. Another one.

Oh boy, this fish is dee-lish!

Hi. My name is Richie Sakai. I'm an anesthesiologist.

And I'd like to dedi-cate this next song to my wife, Patti. "I WAS BORN IN THE WAGON OF A TRAVELLING SHOW / MAMA USED TO DANCE FOR THE MONEY THEY'D THROW / PAPA WOULD DO WHATEVER HE COULD..."

... oh, oh, and two of these things.

Two uni.

And, Oh, Oh, I don't believe I've tried the flying fish roe...

I recommend it with a raw quail egg on top.

You're the doctor!

WHO'S THE BLACK PRIVATE DICK THAT'S THE SEX MACHINE TO ALL THE CHICKS?

You're damn right. WHO'S THE CAT THAT WON'T COP OUT / WHEN THERE'S DANGER ALL ABOUT?

Right on.

There's gotta be something I haven't tried. Huh? Hey! What's this? Fugu!

It is blowfish, sir. But I should warn you that one...

Come on, pal! Fugu me!

THEY SAY THIS CAT SHAFT IS A BAD MOTHER...

Shut your mouth!

But I'm talkin' about Shaft.

I can dig it!

HE'S A COMPLICATED MAN BUT NO ONE UNDERSTANDS HIM BUT HIS WOMAN.

John Shaft.

Oh, she's here. Cover for me.

One fugu.

Not fugu! If it is cut improperly it's... it's...

Yes, yes, it is poisonous, potentially fatal, but if sliced properly, it can be quite tasty.

I must get the Master.

Oh, Miss Krabappel, your hair smells so clean.

Master, you are needed in the kitchen.

I said cover for me, damn it!

But Master, we need your skilled hands.

My skilled hands are busy. You do it!

Poison, poison, tasty fish.

Concentrate. Concentrate...

I want fugu!

Mmmm. Fan-fugu-tastic.

Beautiful language, isn't it, Marge?

For God's sake, don't eat another bite!

Oh, I couldn't possibly.

Mr. Simpson-san. I shall be blunt. We have reason to believe you have eaten poison.

Poison! What should I do? What should I do? Tell me quick!

Oh, no need to panic. There's a map to the hospital on the back of the menu.

"Try something new, Homer. What'll it hurt you, Homer?" I never heard of a poison pork chop.

Hmmm, your wife agreed that I should break this to you.

No need, Doc. I can read Marge like a book.

Oooh! It's good news, isn't it?

No, Mr. Simpson. If in fact, you've consumed the venom of the blowfish -- and from what the chef has told me, it's quite probable, you have twenty-four hours to live.

Twenty-four hours?

Well, twenty-two. I'm sorry I kept you waiting so long.

Oh Marge, I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die.

Well, if there's one consolation it's that you will feel no pain at all until some time tomorrow evening when your heart suddenly explodes.

Now, a little death anxiety is normal. You can expect to go through five stages. The first is denial.

No way! Because I'm not dying.

The second is anger.

Why you little --

And after that comes fear.

What's after fear? What's after fear?

Bargaining.

Doc, you gotta get me out of this. I'll make it worth your while.

Finally, acceptance.

Well, we all gotta go some time.

Told ya. Now, come on. You're gonna learn how to shave.

Mr. Simpson, your progress astounds me. I-I should leave you two alone. Perhaps this pamphlet will be helpful.

So you're going to die...

Hello, Marge? Hello? I'm the one who's dying, not you.

I'm sorry, Homer. Have you thought about what you want to tell the kids?

Nothing. It'll just upset them. I want my last hours of family life to be happy ones.

Well, have you decided what you want to do tomorrow?

Almost.

I'm not done yet, Marge. What's that word you use for when you and I... you know...

When we're intimate?

Be intimate with Marge.

Can I just make one suggestion? Can we get up early and watch the sunrise together?

Ah, watch the sunrise.

Till six a.m., my dearest darling and my last day on earth.

Eleven-thirty! Oh, that's just great.

Marge, why did you let me sleep so late?

You looked so peaceful lying there.

There'll be plenty of time for that! I've got tons of important stuff to do.

Bart! Bart!

Have man-to-man with Bart.

Come here, boy.

Oh, man.

Nooo, I just want to have a heart-to-heart talk.

You know, Bart, after me, you're the man around the house, and that means you're gonna have to help out with --

Oh, come on, I do plenty around here! Lisa never lifts a finger. Why don't you go yell at her?

Shut up! Bart, this is good stuff. I want to share something with you -- the three little sentences that will get you through life. Number one, "cover for me." Number two, "oh, good idea, boss." Number three, "it was like that when I got here."

Hey, this is good stuff.

...and, finally, the little spot under your nose. Next, we take some toilet paper, tear off some teensy little squares, and stick one there, and there, and any place you're bleeding. There and there. Don't worry, the blood will hold it right on your face. Now, some aftershave.

Ah! Ooh! Arg! Son of a -- ! Ah! And that's how we shave.

Oh, Why you little --

It was like that when I got here.

Oh, that's my boy.

Listen to Lisa play her sax.

Hi, Dad. Want me to cut out this infernal racket?

No. Let me hear you play.

Does a father have to explain? Let's just share your gift, okay?

Yeah, that's more like it! "OH, I WANT TO BE IN THAT RUMBA / WHEN THE SAINTS GO OVER THERE.... OVER THERE... OVER THERE."

Simpson, what a pleasant surprise. We were just pulling taffy.

Gee, the fun never stops at the Flanders house, does it?