jamesliu23/simpsons · Datasets at Hugging Face

text stringlengths 7 697
Look, Smithers, a twitch... it's moving. It's alive! Oh, that fellow at Radio Shack said I was mad... well who's mad now?!
Hi there. I'm your dad-dy.
Mmm... sprinkles.
Geraldo Rivera, Madonna and a diseased Yak.
Mom, what's wrong?
It's your father, he's missing.
Dad's missing? Get outta here.
He's been gone for two days.
Whayda ya know, she's right.
It wasn't suppose to be this way. It was supposed to be a thing of beauty, not this abomination.
Oh Smithers, I was wrong to play god. Life is precious, not a thing to be toyed with. Now, take out that brain and flush it down the toilet.
Sir, his family might appreciate it if you returned the brain to his body.
Oh, come on. It's 11:45.
Oh, Smithers, when you look at me with those puppy dog eyes... all right.
Sir, do you know what this means? He is alive.
Oh you're right, Smithers. I guess I owe you a coke.
And as for you, you clinking, clattering, cacophony of colligenous cogs and camshafts, take that.
Run, sir!
Every bone... shattered... organs... leaking vital fluids. Slight headache... loss of appetite. Smithers, I'm going to die.
Sir, is there nothing I can do?
Well, perhaps. Smithers go to my office. In the third drawer of my desk are surgical tools and some ether...
Did you have a nightmare, Homie?
No. Bart bit me.
Hey, man, you were crushing me. I tried to scream, but my mouth was full of flab.
I gotta go shake the dew off the lilly.
Perhaps you're wondering why you have two heads? Well my body was crushed so I had my head grafted on to or shall we say ample frame.
I didn't wake up. It's all a dream. It's just a dream!
Oh that's right. It's all a dream.
Or is it?
Next week on The Simpsons.
Don't forget dad, tonight my class is having an all you can eat spaghetti dinner.
Umm. Spaghetti.
But Homer, tonight's our reception for Queen Beatrice of the Netherlands.
Oh, I hate having two heads.
Y'ello.
Dad, I'm calling about the school talent show.
Don't worry, I know it's tonight.
Alto or tenor?
No. Dad, I broke my last saxophone reed, and I need you to get me a new one.
Uh... isn't this the kind of thing your mother's better at?
I called her. She's not home. I also tried Mr. Flanders, Aunt Patty, Aunt Selma, Dr. Hibbert, Reverend Lovejoy and that nice man who caught the snake in our basement.
Wow! And after them, out of all the people in the world, you chose me. Uh huh, yeah, number four and a half reed.
Well, you're in for a whale of a show tonight. I'd like to point out that the doors are now locked, so you parents can't sneak out of the show after your own child has performed. Oh, and let me caution the people in the first five rows, you will get wet.
Whew! Just in the nick of... mmm, beer?
Hurry, Moe, hurry! I've only got five minutes till the music store closes.
Why don't you go there first?
Hey, do I tell you how to do your job?
Sorry, Homer.
You know, if you tip the glass, there won't be so much foam on top.
Sorry, Homer.
This is a whole lotta nothin'.
I'd rather be watching the boilers!
Oh well, make sure you return those chairs to the cafeteria, Kim. I'm not kidding.
Ah. Finished with fifteen seconds to spare.
What's the matter, buddy?
The moron next door closed early!
I happen to be that moron.
Oh, me and my trenchant mouth.
Terrible, just terrible. You know, they seem to get worse every year.
Hmm. "Lisa stop playing that stupid... saxophone!" Yes! That's it!
Wonderful. You know, I think this is the best batch we've ever had. I really do. And now, here's Bart Simpson, The Boy of a Thousand Voices.
I'd like to open with my impression of Principal Skinner.
Duh, look at me, I'm Principal Skinner.
That young man just became the Boy of a Thousand Days Detention.
Hey, it's Lunchlady Doris. I wonder what she's got for us today. Today's special is refried dog poop.
Please, you've got to open that store.
Let me think about it... Eh... No.
Okay, okay. But I want you to see a picture of the little girl you're disappointing. Well I don't have one.
Come on, Jer. Open up. Be a pal. Remember when I pulled you and your wife out of that burning car?
Okay. Okay. But now we're even. So what does your daughter need?
I'll have you know, I wrote it down.
Number Four and a half -- Stupid gum!
Number Four and a Half reed! Whoo hoo!
Uh-huh. And what instrument does she play?
I dunno.
Mom, where is he? If I don't get that reed I'll sound terrible.
Don't worry, honey, I'm sure your father is...
That's a long shot.
Don't worry, he'll be here.
Clarinet?
Saxophone?
No!... Wait a minute. What was that last one again?
Saxophone?
My ding-a-ling / My ding-a-ling / I want you to play with my ding-a-ling --
This act is over! Well, ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to put this filth behind us, and let's all enjoy Lisa Simpson's rendition of "Stormy Leather -- ah, Weather."
Haw haw!
Haw haw.
Sounds like that gopher I caught in me lawnmower.
Whew, I'd hate to be that kid's father.
That'll do.
It's not my fault. It's the reed.
Oh yes, of course. It's the reed.
Let's hear it for Lisa Simpson and her wacky sax.
Yeah! Woo! Woo! Yeah!
Okay, who ordered the Mount Bellyache?
I ordered it for my little girl. Heh... heh.
I'm done.
That cost eighty-eight dollars!
I'm sorry dad, I don't feel much like eating.
Look, I let you down and I apologize. I know that doesn't make it right, but I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.

Look, Smithers, a twitch... it's moving. It's alive! Oh, that fellow at Radio Shack said I was mad... well who's mad now?!

Hi there. I'm your dad-dy.

Mmm... sprinkles.

Geraldo Rivera, Madonna and a diseased Yak.

Mom, what's wrong?

It's your father, he's missing.

Dad's missing? Get outta here.

He's been gone for two days.

Whayda ya know, she's right.

It wasn't suppose to be this way. It was supposed to be a thing of beauty, not this abomination.

Oh Smithers, I was wrong to play god. Life is precious, not a thing to be toyed with. Now, take out that brain and flush it down the toilet.

Sir, his family might appreciate it if you returned the brain to his body.

Oh, come on. It's 11:45.

Oh, Smithers, when you look at me with those puppy dog eyes... all right.

Sir, do you know what this means? He is alive.

Oh you're right, Smithers. I guess I owe you a coke.

And as for you, you clinking, clattering, cacophony of colligenous cogs and camshafts, take that.

Run, sir!

Every bone... shattered... organs... leaking vital fluids. Slight headache... loss of appetite. Smithers, I'm going to die.

Sir, is there nothing I can do?

Well, perhaps. Smithers go to my office. In the third drawer of my desk are surgical tools and some ether...

Did you have a nightmare, Homie?

No. Bart bit me.

Hey, man, you were crushing me. I tried to scream, but my mouth was full of flab.

I gotta go shake the dew off the lilly.

Perhaps you're wondering why you have two heads? Well my body was crushed so I had my head grafted on to or shall we say ample frame.

I didn't wake up. It's all a dream. It's just a dream!

Oh that's right. It's all a dream.

Or is it?

Next week on The Simpsons.

Don't forget dad, tonight my class is having an all you can eat spaghetti dinner.

Umm. Spaghetti.

But Homer, tonight's our reception for Queen Beatrice of the Netherlands.

Oh, I hate having two heads.

Y'ello.

Dad, I'm calling about the school talent show.

Don't worry, I know it's tonight.

Alto or tenor?

No. Dad, I broke my last saxophone reed, and I need you to get me a new one.

Uh... isn't this the kind of thing your mother's better at?

I called her. She's not home. I also tried Mr. Flanders, Aunt Patty, Aunt Selma, Dr. Hibbert, Reverend Lovejoy and that nice man who caught the snake in our basement.

Wow! And after them, out of all the people in the world, you chose me. Uh huh, yeah, number four and a half reed.

Well, you're in for a whale of a show tonight. I'd like to point out that the doors are now locked, so you parents can't sneak out of the show after your own child has performed. Oh, and let me caution the people in the first five rows, you will get wet.

Whew! Just in the nick of... mmm, beer?

Hurry, Moe, hurry! I've only got five minutes till the music store closes.

Why don't you go there first?

Hey, do I tell you how to do your job?

Sorry, Homer.

You know, if you tip the glass, there won't be so much foam on top.

Sorry, Homer.

This is a whole lotta nothin'.

I'd rather be watching the boilers!

Oh well, make sure you return those chairs to the cafeteria, Kim. I'm not kidding.

Ah. Finished with fifteen seconds to spare.

What's the matter, buddy?

The moron next door closed early!

I happen to be that moron.

Oh, me and my trenchant mouth.

Terrible, just terrible. You know, they seem to get worse every year.

Hmm. "Lisa stop playing that stupid... saxophone!" Yes! That's it!

Wonderful. You know, I think this is the best batch we've ever had. I really do. And now, here's Bart Simpson, The Boy of a Thousand Voices.

I'd like to open with my impression of Principal Skinner.

Duh, look at me, I'm Principal Skinner.

That young man just became the Boy of a Thousand Days Detention.

Hey, it's Lunchlady Doris. I wonder what she's got for us today. Today's special is refried dog poop.

Please, you've got to open that store.

Let me think about it... Eh... No.

Okay, okay. But I want you to see a picture of the little girl you're disappointing. Well I don't have one.

Come on, Jer. Open up. Be a pal. Remember when I pulled you and your wife out of that burning car?

Okay. Okay. But now we're even. So what does your daughter need?

I'll have you know, I wrote it down.

Number Four and a half -- Stupid gum!

Number Four and a Half reed! Whoo hoo!

Uh-huh. And what instrument does she play?

I dunno.

Mom, where is he? If I don't get that reed I'll sound terrible.

Don't worry, honey, I'm sure your father is...

That's a long shot.

Don't worry, he'll be here.

Clarinet?

Saxophone?

No!... Wait a minute. What was that last one again?

Saxophone?

My ding-a-ling / My ding-a-ling / I want you to play with my ding-a-ling --

This act is over! Well, ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to put this filth behind us, and let's all enjoy Lisa Simpson's rendition of "Stormy Leather -- ah, Weather."

Haw haw!

Haw haw.

Sounds like that gopher I caught in me lawnmower.

Whew, I'd hate to be that kid's father.

That'll do.

It's not my fault. It's the reed.

Oh yes, of course. It's the reed.

Let's hear it for Lisa Simpson and her wacky sax.

Yeah! Woo! Woo! Yeah!

Okay, who ordered the Mount Bellyache?

I ordered it for my little girl. Heh... heh.

I'm done.

That cost eighty-eight dollars!

I'm sorry dad, I don't feel much like eating.

Look, I let you down and I apologize. I know that doesn't make it right, but I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.