jamesliu23/simpsons · Datasets at Hugging Face

text stringlengths 7 697
Well, not me. Shut it off and let's get down to business.
Cray-on.
Fenetre.
Tres bien. Well, I should probably be going. I have a big Forensics meet tomorrow.
Oh.... wait, Don't go. Don't go. Wait, wait -- why don't we take a little study break?
Do the hustle!
Keep it down!
Homer, you're amazing. Before you couldn't say bon jour. But now you can conjugate all the regular verbs, two irregular verbs, and sing the first verse of "Allouette".
ALLOUETTE JAUNTE ALLOUETTE / ALLOUETTE JAUNTE...
Yes. Thousands of them.
I can't believe it, it's sticking. You're telling me new stuff, and minutes later it's still there! And it's all thanks to you. Marge, when I see you forming the vowels and continents --
Consonants.
-- Consonants, with your beautiful mouth, and your beautiful breath pushing them past your beautiful teeth...
Merci, I guess.
Marge, would you go to the prom with me?
You know, Homer, you're like no one I've ever met before. You're dear and honest and open, without a trace of pretension.
I'll take that as a compliment. So, will you go out with me? Please say oui.
Ohhh! oh, Marge! This'll be the greatest night of your life. I've been saving up for a new engine for my car, but I'm gonna spend it all on us. I'm renting the biggest limo. I'm gonna buy you the biggest corsage. My tux is gonna have the widest lapels, the most ruffles, and the highest platform shoes you ever saw.
Maybe I'll wear my hair... up.
Wait, wait, wait, Marge. If honest and open is what you like, get a load of this. I'm not really in any French class. This was just a brilliant scheme to get to know you better.
You knew the City Forensics finals are tomorrow. And you kept me here until one a.m. pretending to be stupid. Homer J. Simpson, I hate you!
Hey, Barney, guess whose got a date for the prom?
Everything I know tells me this story doesn't end with us sitting here, and you telling it to us.
Get off the edge of your seat. They got married, had kids and bought a cheap TV. Okay?
Bringing up a son -- even a blind one -- isn't a lifetime occupation. Now the more you help him--
-- The more you hurt him.
Congratulations, Artie.
Marge, this may not be the most appropriate forum for what I am about to put forth, but would you go to the prom with me?
I can think of a dozen highly cogent arguments. Now the first is from Time Magazine... dated January 8, 1974, "America's Love Affair with The Prom... Even wallflowers can look forward to one date a year..."
No, Artie, Artie. The best argument is that I've known and respected you for eight years, and I would be delighted to go to the prom with you.
If you pinch your checks, they'll glow.
A little more. Try to break some capillaries, dear.
Couldn't we just use rouge for this?
Ladies pinch. Whores use rouge.
Is Marge here?
Who or what are you?
I'm her date.
Mm-hmm. I suppose you want to come in and sit down.
Oh, okay.
Marge's dates get homelier all the time.
Mm-hmm. That's what you get when you don't put out.
You know, I usually insist on approving Marge's dates, but from what she's told me I'm sure you're a solid citizen.
Thanks, Mr. B.
Here she comes. Get the camera ready.
What are you doing here?
You said you'd go to the prom with me.
I also said I hated you and we haven't even talked since then.
I was afraid you'd cancel our date so I stayed away from you completely, even though it meant skipping school for three weeks and graduating this summer... I hope.
I'm Artie Ziff, Marge's date for the prom.
Well, hello.
Well, hello... hello.
Don't we look handsome.
Yes indeed we do.
Well come in, young man.
Wait a second. If he's your date, who are you?
Now that that unpleasantness is behind us forever, let's take a picture of the happy couple.
Say cheese whiz.
Hey, buddy, where's your date?
She's with him.
Ouch! So, I guess you want me to take you home?
Hey, I paid for this car. I paid for this tuxedo and I paid for the two dinners. We're going to the prom.
The prom it is.
Don't dance too closely now. Have a good time. Wait a second -- is that a bong? You have asthma? All right, move along.
Homer Simpson, I thought you dropped out.
You wish, Dondelinger.
That's Mr. Dondelinger.
Steak or chicken?
One of each, please.
Comin' through.
Barney!
That young man's bought himself about a decade of detention.
Children, we have tabulated your votes. The King and Queen of Springfield High School's Class of 1974 are -- Artie Ziff and Marge Bouvier!
Oh, isn't she great? Hail Queen Marge! Woo woo! Long live the Queen!
Fellow classmates. Instead of voting for some athletic hero, or a pretty boy, you have elected me, your intellectual superior, as your king. Good for you!
Very well said. And now your King and Queen will share their first royal dance.
Why do birds suddenly appear? Every time you're near!
I gotta get outta here.
Why are you doing this? Why can't you accept that I'm here with someone else?
Wouldn't you eventually get used to it, like in a hot tub?
Because I'm sure we were meant to be together. Usually when I have a thought there's a lot of other thoughts in there. Something says yes, something says no. But this time there's only yes. How could the only thing I've ever been sure about in my life be wrong?
I don't know, but it is.
Well, where to now, Romeo?
Inspiration Point.
Okay, but I'm only paid to drive.
Oh, Marge...
Gee, Artie. Artie wait. I don't know. I mean, it was it was a beautiful evening. Let's not ruin it.
Just kiss...
Artie, please!
Come on, kiss me.
Oh, Artie!
Please, please.
Now, really, I mean it. Now stop it!
I'm sorry, Marge.
Take me home, Artie.
Well, it's one o'clock. If you want to keep me, I'm afraid it's gonna be forty-five dollars an hour.
Naw, that's okay. I'm broke. I'll walk home.
Yeah, why spoil a perfect evening?
Marge, I would appreciate it if you didn't tell anybody about my busy hands. Not so much for myself, but I am so respected it would damage the town to hear it. Good night.
Yeah, right.
You know, when that Simpson boy showed up it took years off my life.

Well, not me. Shut it off and let's get down to business.

Cray-on.

Fenetre.

Tres bien. Well, I should probably be going. I have a big Forensics meet tomorrow.

Oh.... wait, Don't go. Don't go. Wait, wait -- why don't we take a little study break?

Do the hustle!

Keep it down!

Homer, you're amazing. Before you couldn't say bon jour. But now you can conjugate all the regular verbs, two irregular verbs, and sing the first verse of "Allouette".

ALLOUETTE JAUNTE ALLOUETTE / ALLOUETTE JAUNTE...

Yes. Thousands of them.

I can't believe it, it's sticking. You're telling me new stuff, and minutes later it's still there! And it's all thanks to you. Marge, when I see you forming the vowels and continents --

Consonants.

-- Consonants, with your beautiful mouth, and your beautiful breath pushing them past your beautiful teeth...

Merci, I guess.

Marge, would you go to the prom with me?

You know, Homer, you're like no one I've ever met before. You're dear and honest and open, without a trace of pretension.

I'll take that as a compliment. So, will you go out with me? Please say oui.

Ohhh! oh, Marge! This'll be the greatest night of your life. I've been saving up for a new engine for my car, but I'm gonna spend it all on us. I'm renting the biggest limo. I'm gonna buy you the biggest corsage. My tux is gonna have the widest lapels, the most ruffles, and the highest platform shoes you ever saw.

Maybe I'll wear my hair... up.

Wait, wait, wait, Marge. If honest and open is what you like, get a load of this. I'm not really in any French class. This was just a brilliant scheme to get to know you better.

You knew the City Forensics finals are tomorrow. And you kept me here until one a.m. pretending to be stupid. Homer J. Simpson, I hate you!

Hey, Barney, guess whose got a date for the prom?

Everything I know tells me this story doesn't end with us sitting here, and you telling it to us.

Get off the edge of your seat. They got married, had kids and bought a cheap TV. Okay?

Bringing up a son -- even a blind one -- isn't a lifetime occupation. Now the more you help him--

-- The more you hurt him.

Congratulations, Artie.

Marge, this may not be the most appropriate forum for what I am about to put forth, but would you go to the prom with me?

I can think of a dozen highly cogent arguments. Now the first is from Time Magazine... dated January 8, 1974, "America's Love Affair with The Prom... Even wallflowers can look forward to one date a year..."

No, Artie, Artie. The best argument is that I've known and respected you for eight years, and I would be delighted to go to the prom with you.

If you pinch your checks, they'll glow.

A little more. Try to break some capillaries, dear.

Couldn't we just use rouge for this?

Ladies pinch. Whores use rouge.

Is Marge here?

Who or what are you?

I'm her date.

Mm-hmm. I suppose you want to come in and sit down.

Oh, okay.

Marge's dates get homelier all the time.

Mm-hmm. That's what you get when you don't put out.

You know, I usually insist on approving Marge's dates, but from what she's told me I'm sure you're a solid citizen.

Thanks, Mr. B.

Here she comes. Get the camera ready.

What are you doing here?

You said you'd go to the prom with me.

I also said I hated you and we haven't even talked since then.

I was afraid you'd cancel our date so I stayed away from you completely, even though it meant skipping school for three weeks and graduating this summer... I hope.

I'm Artie Ziff, Marge's date for the prom.

Well, hello.

Well, hello... hello.

Don't we look handsome.

Yes indeed we do.

Well come in, young man.

Wait a second. If he's your date, who are you?

Now that that unpleasantness is behind us forever, let's take a picture of the happy couple.

Say cheese whiz.

Hey, buddy, where's your date?

She's with him.

Ouch! So, I guess you want me to take you home?

Hey, I paid for this car. I paid for this tuxedo and I paid for the two dinners. We're going to the prom.

The prom it is.

Don't dance too closely now. Have a good time. Wait a second -- is that a bong? You have asthma? All right, move along.

Homer Simpson, I thought you dropped out.

You wish, Dondelinger.

That's Mr. Dondelinger.

Steak or chicken?

One of each, please.

Comin' through.

Barney!

That young man's bought himself about a decade of detention.

Children, we have tabulated your votes. The King and Queen of Springfield High School's Class of 1974 are -- Artie Ziff and Marge Bouvier!

Oh, isn't she great? Hail Queen Marge! Woo woo! Long live the Queen!

Fellow classmates. Instead of voting for some athletic hero, or a pretty boy, you have elected me, your intellectual superior, as your king. Good for you!

Very well said. And now your King and Queen will share their first royal dance.

Why do birds suddenly appear? Every time you're near!

I gotta get outta here.

Why are you doing this? Why can't you accept that I'm here with someone else?

Wouldn't you eventually get used to it, like in a hot tub?

Because I'm sure we were meant to be together. Usually when I have a thought there's a lot of other thoughts in there. Something says yes, something says no. But this time there's only yes. How could the only thing I've ever been sure about in my life be wrong?

I don't know, but it is.

Well, where to now, Romeo?

Inspiration Point.

Okay, but I'm only paid to drive.

Oh, Marge...

Gee, Artie. Artie wait. I don't know. I mean, it was it was a beautiful evening. Let's not ruin it.

Just kiss...

Artie, please!

Come on, kiss me.

Oh, Artie!

Please, please.

Now, really, I mean it. Now stop it!

I'm sorry, Marge.

Take me home, Artie.

Well, it's one o'clock. If you want to keep me, I'm afraid it's gonna be forty-five dollars an hour.

Naw, that's okay. I'm broke. I'll walk home.

Yeah, why spoil a perfect evening?

Marge, I would appreciate it if you didn't tell anybody about my busy hands. Not so much for myself, but I am so respected it would damage the town to hear it. Good night.

Yeah, right.

You know, when that Simpson boy showed up it took years off my life.