jamesliu23/simpsons · Datasets at Hugging Face

text stringlengths 7 697
Hey, didn't anybody notice this place sucks?
It seems that most of the animals are sleeping.
Well, let 'em sleep on their own time!
Homer, are you sure this is the right way? The road seems to have gotten awfully bumpy.
What a wing ding. This is much better than my girlfriend's birthday party.
Bart, get out and push.
Yeah, Bart, get out and push.
No way, José.
Okay, we've seen a lion. Can we go now?
Oh, Beeeeeaaa!
Mr. Simpson, I presume.
Out of my way, I gotta date with an angel.
You don't know how right you are, Abe.
I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but Bea passed away last night.
Ohhhhh, noooo.
It was her ticker. The Doc said her left ventricle burst.
Ohhh. No, Jasper. They may say she died of a burst ventricle, but I know she died of a broken heart.
I can tell she really cared for me. She didn't make me a pall bearer.
I can't tell you how sorry I am, Dad.
Is someone talking to me? I didn't hear anything.
Oh no! Dad's lost his hearing.
No, you idiot. I'm ignoring you. You made me miss the last precious moments of Bea's life. I'll never speak to you again.
I have no son!!!
Oh, Bea.
It was a beautiful service, wasn't it, Mr. Simpson?
Who the hell are you?
Lionel Hutz, attorney-at-law. I'm the executor of Beatrice Simmons' estate. Mr. Simpson, Bea was a wealthy woman and, surprise, surprise, she left everything to you.
Really?
There is one catch: You must spend one night in... a haunted house.
Just kidding. Just kidding. Here's a check for one hundred and six thousand dollars, "to enjoy as you see fit." Ah, I'm touched.
A hundred and six thousand dollars?
Ta-ta, Mr. Simpson. By the way, old timer, I do wills. Why don't I just give you this pen with my phone number on it. It looks just like a cigar! Isn't that something!
Yell-o.
Hello, Homer?
Whoo-hoo. It's Dad. Dad's on the phone. He's calling me.
Oh Dad. Oh, I knew you'd forgive me.
I haven't forgiven you. I just inherited a hundred and six thousand dollars and I just had to tell you that you're not getting one thin dime. Heh, heh.
Mr. Simpson?
What is it?
I couldn't help overhearing about your new-found fortune, and uh let me assure you that here at the Springfield Retirement Castle, money does make a difference.
I mean, there are rub-downs and then there are rub-downs.
Listen, you bloodsucker. Has it ever occurred to you that old folks deserve to be treated like human beings whether they have money or not?
Yes, but it passes.
You...oh you lousy son of a...
I'll take it.
Hey, big spender. Why the change of heart?
Bea told me to enjoy my moola and I'm going to, dagnabit!
So where to Pappy?
Take me someplace fun.
You're the boss. Next stop funsville!
I miss Bea.
I miss you, too.
Oh Abraham, calm down. I'm not here to scare you. They've got me haunting a family in Texas.
Oh, I'm glad you're keepin' busy.
Now, listen Abe. I want to know why my money isn't bringing you happiness.
Oh, Bea, I'm not cut out for the high life.
Abraham. If you're not happy with the money, why don't you spread it around? Make other people as happy as you made me.
Oh, thanks Bea, I will.
And go see your son -- he misses you.
Aw, I miss him, too, the big fat dickens. Hey, Bea, I've got to ask you, what was death like?
Not as scary as this!
I miss my Daddy.
Homer, this thing with your Dad has had you moping around the house for days. I think it's time for you to talk to someone who understands.
Nunchucks.
Nunchucks?
Hi ya, you have reached Dr. Marvin Monroe's Anxiety Line. If you have a sullen teenager, press one, now. If you're estranged from your spouse, press two, now. If you have trouble maintaining an...
Grampa!
Sonny boy!
Is there room at your table for a foolish old man?
Well... sure. We'll have to move a chair in from the den, but it's no problem. Bart!
Choose your corncob! En garde!
Challenge accepted!
All my precious sacks of gold...
...couldn't buy me the pleasures of a simple family meal.
Pass the bug juice, Dad.
Wait your turn, you pig. I have an announcement to make. I have decided to give Bea's money away. There are people who really need it. I'm gonna let them come to me and plead their case, and then I'll decide who needs it most.
Grampa, that's the noblest thought that's ever been expressed at this table.
Give it to us, Grampa.
Bart! Forgive him, Dad. He's just a stupid little kid who says the first thing that pops into his head. But, you know, there's wisdom in his innocence.
You don't want it.
Yes, I do.
Too bad. You ain't getting it.
Not since this reporter's marriage to Stephanie, the weather lady, has this town been so consumed with rumor and innuendo. All because of this man.
Today, one Abraham "Grampa" Simpson announced that he will give away over a hundred thousand dollars to the person - or persons - he finds most deserving.
Is Grampa Simpson a modern day saint, a rich nut, or both? Only time will tell.
This is Kent Brockman on line for an old man's money.
I don't know.
Now you see, Gramps, I want to customize the bus. Y'know, chop the top, jack it up, put mag wheels on it, psychedelic paint job, from hell, man. Jam the kids to school at 150 miles an hour. Here's an artist's rendering. Note the cobra wrapped around the naked chick...
Grampa -- I can call you Grampa, can't I?
Yeah, yeah... go ahead.
I need that money. Please, please...
Wait... wait a minute... wait. You're the guy who owns the nuclear power plant.
Well, the ownership is divided.
What the hell do you think you're doing?
Mr. Simpson, I dread the day when a hundred thousand dollars isn't worth groveling for.
Get outta here.
You just made yourself a very powerful enemy, old man.
Here's the deal, Grampa. A guy, I think was an explorer, left this in the bar one night. It may be a map to ancient treasure, or directions to some guy's house, but to find out, we'll need money, we'll need provisions, and a two man diving bell.
It's pretty stupid, but so far you're the front runner.
It's a special isolation chamber. The subject pulls levers to receive food and warmth. The floor can become electrified and showers of icy water randomly fall on the subject. I call it the Monroe Box.

Hey, didn't anybody notice this place sucks?

It seems that most of the animals are sleeping.

Well, let 'em sleep on their own time!

Homer, are you sure this is the right way? The road seems to have gotten awfully bumpy.

What a wing ding. This is much better than my girlfriend's birthday party.

Bart, get out and push.

Yeah, Bart, get out and push.

No way, José.

Okay, we've seen a lion. Can we go now?

Oh, Beeeeeaaa!

Mr. Simpson, I presume.

Out of my way, I gotta date with an angel.

You don't know how right you are, Abe.

I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but Bea passed away last night.

Ohhhhh, noooo.

It was her ticker. The Doc said her left ventricle burst.

Ohhh. No, Jasper. They may say she died of a burst ventricle, but I know she died of a broken heart.

I can tell she really cared for me. She didn't make me a pall bearer.

I can't tell you how sorry I am, Dad.

Is someone talking to me? I didn't hear anything.

Oh no! Dad's lost his hearing.

No, you idiot. I'm ignoring you. You made me miss the last precious moments of Bea's life. I'll never speak to you again.

I have no son!!!

Oh, Bea.

It was a beautiful service, wasn't it, Mr. Simpson?

Who the hell are you?

Lionel Hutz, attorney-at-law. I'm the executor of Beatrice Simmons' estate. Mr. Simpson, Bea was a wealthy woman and, surprise, surprise, she left everything to you.

Really?

There is one catch: You must spend one night in... a haunted house.

Just kidding. Just kidding. Here's a check for one hundred and six thousand dollars, "to enjoy as you see fit." Ah, I'm touched.

A hundred and six thousand dollars?

Ta-ta, Mr. Simpson. By the way, old timer, I do wills. Why don't I just give you this pen with my phone number on it. It looks just like a cigar! Isn't that something!

Yell-o.

Hello, Homer?

Whoo-hoo. It's Dad. Dad's on the phone. He's calling me.

Oh Dad. Oh, I knew you'd forgive me.

I haven't forgiven you. I just inherited a hundred and six thousand dollars and I just had to tell you that you're not getting one thin dime. Heh, heh.

Mr. Simpson?

What is it?

I couldn't help overhearing about your new-found fortune, and uh let me assure you that here at the Springfield Retirement Castle, money does make a difference.

I mean, there are rub-downs and then there are rub-downs.

Listen, you bloodsucker. Has it ever occurred to you that old folks deserve to be treated like human beings whether they have money or not?

Yes, but it passes.

You...oh you lousy son of a...

I'll take it.

Hey, big spender. Why the change of heart?

Bea told me to enjoy my moola and I'm going to, dagnabit!

So where to Pappy?

Take me someplace fun.

You're the boss. Next stop funsville!

I miss Bea.

I miss you, too.

Oh Abraham, calm down. I'm not here to scare you. They've got me haunting a family in Texas.

Oh, I'm glad you're keepin' busy.

Now, listen Abe. I want to know why my money isn't bringing you happiness.

Oh, Bea, I'm not cut out for the high life.

Abraham. If you're not happy with the money, why don't you spread it around? Make other people as happy as you made me.

Oh, thanks Bea, I will.

And go see your son -- he misses you.

Aw, I miss him, too, the big fat dickens. Hey, Bea, I've got to ask you, what was death like?

Not as scary as this!

I miss my Daddy.

Homer, this thing with your Dad has had you moping around the house for days. I think it's time for you to talk to someone who understands.

Nunchucks.

Nunchucks?

Hi ya, you have reached Dr. Marvin Monroe's Anxiety Line. If you have a sullen teenager, press one, now. If you're estranged from your spouse, press two, now. If you have trouble maintaining an...

Grampa!

Sonny boy!

Is there room at your table for a foolish old man?

Well... sure. We'll have to move a chair in from the den, but it's no problem. Bart!

Choose your corncob! En garde!

Challenge accepted!

All my precious sacks of gold...

...couldn't buy me the pleasures of a simple family meal.

Pass the bug juice, Dad.

Wait your turn, you pig. I have an announcement to make. I have decided to give Bea's money away. There are people who really need it. I'm gonna let them come to me and plead their case, and then I'll decide who needs it most.

Grampa, that's the noblest thought that's ever been expressed at this table.

Give it to us, Grampa.

Bart! Forgive him, Dad. He's just a stupid little kid who says the first thing that pops into his head. But, you know, there's wisdom in his innocence.

You don't want it.

Yes, I do.

Too bad. You ain't getting it.

Not since this reporter's marriage to Stephanie, the weather lady, has this town been so consumed with rumor and innuendo. All because of this man.

Today, one Abraham "Grampa" Simpson announced that he will give away over a hundred thousand dollars to the person - or persons - he finds most deserving.

Is Grampa Simpson a modern day saint, a rich nut, or both? Only time will tell.

This is Kent Brockman on line for an old man's money.

I don't know.

Now you see, Gramps, I want to customize the bus. Y'know, chop the top, jack it up, put mag wheels on it, psychedelic paint job, from hell, man. Jam the kids to school at 150 miles an hour. Here's an artist's rendering. Note the cobra wrapped around the naked chick...

Grampa -- I can call you Grampa, can't I?

Yeah, yeah... go ahead.

I need that money. Please, please...

Wait... wait a minute... wait. You're the guy who owns the nuclear power plant.

Well, the ownership is divided.

What the hell do you think you're doing?

Mr. Simpson, I dread the day when a hundred thousand dollars isn't worth groveling for.

Get outta here.

You just made yourself a very powerful enemy, old man.

Here's the deal, Grampa. A guy, I think was an explorer, left this in the bar one night. It may be a map to ancient treasure, or directions to some guy's house, but to find out, we'll need money, we'll need provisions, and a two man diving bell.

It's pretty stupid, but so far you're the front runner.

It's a special isolation chamber. The subject pulls levers to receive food and warmth. The floor can become electrified and showers of icy water randomly fall on the subject. I call it the Monroe Box.