jamesliu23/simpsons · Datasets at Hugging Face

text stringlengths 7 697
No-sirree-Bob!
Hey, Flanders, could I borrow your camcorder?
Okey-dokel. Hey, why don't you and your family come over for a barbecue tomorrow?
No, thanks.
Oh, are you sure? We got that new propane beauty just sittin' in the back yard.
No, I don't want-a...
Oh, it's crying out to cook up some good eatin'.
Flanders, I said I didn't -- Tomorrow? Sure, what the hey. I'd love to come to your barbecue. I'll even bring the thickest, juiciest T-bones you've ever seen.
Mmm Mm, sounds terriff!
Heh-heh. The joke's on him, I'll be dead by then.
I'm sorry, Officer. I know I was going too fast. Just give me a ticket.
I beg your pardon?
This is a videotape for my daughter, Maggie. Hi, Maggie. I'm speaking to you from beyond the grave. Oooooooh. Hope that didn't scare you. Well, you're a grown-up now, and unless you've taped over this, you're probably wondering what kind of man your father was... He was a simple man. A kind man. A gentle man who loved his children and...
Hello? Yeah he's here who is this? Bart's friend Milhouse. Bart! Get your butt down here!
Huh? Oh, it's you. What do you want?
Dad, we've never been too close, have we?
Not to my knowledge.
Never went fishing, or played catch, or even hugged each other.
We never danced the Hoochy-Koo, either. What's your point?
I just want you to know that I love you, Dad.
You do?
Huh uh.
Oh, son, I love you, too. Hey, how about a hug?
Sonny boy!
Junior!
My old man. Well, I gotta go.
Oh, son, no. We've got a lotta catchin' up to do. What do you say... we go fishin'?
Well, gee, Dad, if I wasn't on such a tight schedule--
Well, I ... Oh, let's get some worms.
Well, no time for that.
Oh, I really wanted to do that one.
Gee, Dad. Way to hog my last moments.
Just a quick game of hacky-sack.
I love you, son!
Yeah, yeah. The old guy's a little love-starved.
Get moving, you hunk of junk. I gotta make up for lost time.
Whoa! Well, that sounded like an order.
I pay my taxes and they pay your salary, so when I say "give me a ticket", just give me a ticket.
Uh huh. Maybe we don't want to give you a ticket.
Maybe we want to haul your butt in, wiseguy.
Hey, look what else your tax dollars pay for, huh.
That's sorta nice. What are you in for?
Atmosphere.
Okay, Flash. You get one phone call.
Wait! I can't call Marge. It's our last day on earth together. I can't drag her into this mess. I know! I'll call Barney.
Nobody's here... nobody's here... nobody'sherenobody'sherenobody's here...
Damn those novelty telephone answering machine tapes!
Thanks a lot, Barney. I just wasted my one phone call on your stupid ma--
What? I'm home. I'm home. Hi, Homer.
You gotta help me, Barney. I'm in jail.
You are? Hey, Homer. Go to the window.
Hiya, neighbor. I can see you.
Ju... ju....just get over here and bring fifty bucks for bail.
Fifty bucks! What'd you do -- kill a judge? Where am I gonna get fifty bucks?
Mmmm, pizza.
Why are we all dressed up?
Because sometimes it's fun to dress up for dinner.
Why are we using the good china?
Because sometimes it's fun to use the good china.
What's with the candles?
Sometimes it's fun to use candles.
Why are we waiting for Dad?
Because we love your father and enjoy his company.
Why are we really waiting for Dad?
Heh, forty-eight dollars and seventy cents... You know we don't usually take rusty money.
You're dyin' and you weren't even gonna stop at Moe's for a last beer with your buddies?
Hey, Barney, look. It was on my list, along with a lot of other things I didn't get to do today. Hey, my boss!
Smithers, check out the luscious pair on that red-head. That's it, baby. Work those ankles.
Ring-a-ding-ding, sir.
Hey, Burns! Eat my shorts!
Who the Sam Hill was that?
Why, it's Homer Simpson, sir. One of the schmos from Sector 7G.
Simpson, eh? I want him in my office at nine o'clock Monday morning. We'll see who eats whose shorts!
Wow! Of all the luck! To think I almost died without telling the boss to eat my shorts.
Ah, Homer. Come on. You got time for one last beer. Please.
I gotta call Marge.
Hello, Moe's Tavern -- birthplace of the Rob Roy.
Is Seymour there? Last name, Butts.
Just a sec. Hey, is there a Butts here? Seymour Butts? Hey, everybody. I wanna Seymour Butts!
Oh, wait a minute. Listen, you little scum-sucking pus-bucket. When I get my hands on you, I'm gonna pull out your eyeballs with a corkscrew.
Oh, it was busy. Moe, another last beer, please.
Guys, keep it down. I got some last words. I never told you this before, but sometimes when I'm at work, I think of you and smile. So often I think that ... oh, words won't do it. I love you, Moe.
Please, not in public.
I love you, Barney.
Oh, how European.
Come on, Barney, I gotta get home.
Faster, Barney, faster.
I'm twirling as fast as I can.
Oh, I can't wait any longer. Hold on, Marge. I'm comin' home, baby.
Oh, where can he be?
Marge! Marge!
There's no time to explain.
Love you. Love you. Love you.
I wrote a poem for you this afternoon, Homer. It's called, "To A Husband."
Okay, okay.
Ahem. "The blackened clouds are forming ..."
Oh, gimme a break, Marge.
"... Soon the rain will fall / My dear one is departing/ But first please heed this call / That always will I love you / My one, my love, my all."
That was beautiful.
Goodbye, Maggie -- stay as sweet as you are.

No-sirree-Bob!

Hey, Flanders, could I borrow your camcorder?

Okey-dokel. Hey, why don't you and your family come over for a barbecue tomorrow?

No, thanks.

Oh, are you sure? We got that new propane beauty just sittin' in the back yard.

No, I don't want-a...

Oh, it's crying out to cook up some good eatin'.

Flanders, I said I didn't -- Tomorrow? Sure, what the hey. I'd love to come to your barbecue. I'll even bring the thickest, juiciest T-bones you've ever seen.

Mmm Mm, sounds terriff!

Heh-heh. The joke's on him, I'll be dead by then.

I'm sorry, Officer. I know I was going too fast. Just give me a ticket.

I beg your pardon?

This is a videotape for my daughter, Maggie. Hi, Maggie. I'm speaking to you from beyond the grave. Oooooooh. Hope that didn't scare you. Well, you're a grown-up now, and unless you've taped over this, you're probably wondering what kind of man your father was... He was a simple man. A kind man. A gentle man who loved his children and...

Hello? Yeah he's here who is this? Bart's friend Milhouse. Bart! Get your butt down here!

Huh? Oh, it's you. What do you want?

Dad, we've never been too close, have we?

Not to my knowledge.

Never went fishing, or played catch, or even hugged each other.

We never danced the Hoochy-Koo, either. What's your point?

I just want you to know that I love you, Dad.

You do?

Huh uh.

Oh, son, I love you, too. Hey, how about a hug?

Sonny boy!

Junior!

My old man. Well, I gotta go.

Oh, son, no. We've got a lotta catchin' up to do. What do you say... we go fishin'?

Well, gee, Dad, if I wasn't on such a tight schedule--

Well, I ... Oh, let's get some worms.

Well, no time for that.

Oh, I really wanted to do that one.

Gee, Dad. Way to hog my last moments.

Just a quick game of hacky-sack.

I love you, son!

Yeah, yeah. The old guy's a little love-starved.

Get moving, you hunk of junk. I gotta make up for lost time.

Whoa! Well, that sounded like an order.

I pay my taxes and they pay your salary, so when I say "give me a ticket", just give me a ticket.

Uh huh. Maybe we don't want to give you a ticket.

Maybe we want to haul your butt in, wiseguy.

Hey, look what else your tax dollars pay for, huh.

That's sorta nice. What are you in for?

Atmosphere.

Okay, Flash. You get one phone call.

Wait! I can't call Marge. It's our last day on earth together. I can't drag her into this mess. I know! I'll call Barney.

Nobody's here... nobody's here... nobody'sherenobody'sherenobody's here...

Damn those novelty telephone answering machine tapes!

Thanks a lot, Barney. I just wasted my one phone call on your stupid ma--

What? I'm home. I'm home. Hi, Homer.

You gotta help me, Barney. I'm in jail.

You are? Hey, Homer. Go to the window.

Hiya, neighbor. I can see you.

Ju... ju....just get over here and bring fifty bucks for bail.

Fifty bucks! What'd you do -- kill a judge? Where am I gonna get fifty bucks?

Mmmm, pizza.

Why are we all dressed up?

Because sometimes it's fun to dress up for dinner.

Why are we using the good china?

Because sometimes it's fun to use the good china.

What's with the candles?

Sometimes it's fun to use candles.

Why are we waiting for Dad?

Because we love your father and enjoy his company.

Why are we really waiting for Dad?

Heh, forty-eight dollars and seventy cents... You know we don't usually take rusty money.

You're dyin' and you weren't even gonna stop at Moe's for a last beer with your buddies?

Hey, Barney, look. It was on my list, along with a lot of other things I didn't get to do today. Hey, my boss!

Smithers, check out the luscious pair on that red-head. That's it, baby. Work those ankles.

Ring-a-ding-ding, sir.

Hey, Burns! Eat my shorts!

Who the Sam Hill was that?

Why, it's Homer Simpson, sir. One of the schmos from Sector 7G.

Simpson, eh? I want him in my office at nine o'clock Monday morning. We'll see who eats whose shorts!

Wow! Of all the luck! To think I almost died without telling the boss to eat my shorts.

Ah, Homer. Come on. You got time for one last beer. Please.

I gotta call Marge.

Hello, Moe's Tavern -- birthplace of the Rob Roy.

Is Seymour there? Last name, Butts.

Just a sec. Hey, is there a Butts here? Seymour Butts? Hey, everybody. I wanna Seymour Butts!

Oh, wait a minute. Listen, you little scum-sucking pus-bucket. When I get my hands on you, I'm gonna pull out your eyeballs with a corkscrew.

Oh, it was busy. Moe, another last beer, please.

Guys, keep it down. I got some last words. I never told you this before, but sometimes when I'm at work, I think of you and smile. So often I think that ... oh, words won't do it. I love you, Moe.

Please, not in public.

I love you, Barney.

Oh, how European.

Come on, Barney, I gotta get home.

Faster, Barney, faster.

I'm twirling as fast as I can.

Oh, I can't wait any longer. Hold on, Marge. I'm comin' home, baby.

Oh, where can he be?

Marge! Marge!

There's no time to explain.

Love you. Love you. Love you.

I wrote a poem for you this afternoon, Homer. It's called, "To A Husband."

Okay, okay.

Ahem. "The blackened clouds are forming ..."

Oh, gimme a break, Marge.

"... Soon the rain will fall / My dear one is departing/ But first please heed this call / That always will I love you / My one, my love, my all."

That was beautiful.

Goodbye, Maggie -- stay as sweet as you are.