jamesliu23/simpsons · Datasets at Hugging Face

text stringlengths 7 697
She ain't lyin'.
But I guess I was wrong. You are a bad father.
Leave me alone.
Good morning, everybody, and welcome to an event that harkens back to the carefree days of the Great Depression -- The Soapbox Derby.
In just minutes, these junior Al Unser Juniors will lock horns.
"Name your son's hobbies." Building a soapbox racer... "Name your child's friends." Martin... Martin! I'll curse that name 'til the day I die... Huh? "Who is your son's heroe?"...
Three-time Soapbox Derby Champion Ronnie Beck!
Wow, I'm one question away from being a perfect father. "Name another dad you talked to about parenting."
Hey ho Simpson.
Shut up Flanders. Flanders!
Flanders, Flanders, uh, uh, when should a boy start dating?
Well sir, there are two schools of thought...
Great, thanks.
I talked to Flanders about parenting. I'm a perfect father. Hold on, son, I'm-a coming!
My friend and I have a bet -- Are you Mary Tyler Moore?
Bart, if she breaks up on you, steer away from the grandstands, or else you might kill hundreds of innocent spectators. Bart what did I just tell you?
Kill spectators.
What is the matter with you?
It's my dad. Lying there on the couch drinking a beer, staring at the TV. I've never seen him like that.
Forget about your father. You're driving for me now!
Do it for your old man, boy!
Simpson, prepare to die.
Let's rock.
Ladies and gentlemen, to drop the checkered flag, our beloved Mayor, Diamond Joe Quimby.
To everyone participating today, I salute your vigor. Check out the rack on the blonde in the fourth row.
... like the arrogant Roman and Judah Ben Hur, these modern charioteers battle ferociously. No quarter given, none asked.
The world has not seen the likes of this since the French carried Lucky Lindy off on their shoulders from Le Bourget Field.
And now, to present the trophy, three time Soapbox Derby Champion, Ronnie Beck.
Congratulations Bart. Seeing you out there brought back a lot of memories.
Thanks, Mr. Beck. I was alone out there, but someone was riding with me in spirit... This is for you, Dad.
No, son, you earned it.
I might remind you both, I did design that racer. The driver is essentially ballast.
The better man won, Simpson. You can really drive.
Thanks, Nelson, put her there.
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Loser! Nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah!
Bart, you know there is such a thing as being a bad winner.
Mom, I never won before. I may never win again. Nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah!
That's my boy. Nyah-nyah, nyah, nyah-nyah-nyah!
Nyah-nyah, nyah, nyah-nyah-nyah! Nyah-nyah, nyah, nyah-nyah-nyah!
Hello, I'm Kent Brockman and this is Eye on Springfield.
Wow, infotainment.
Tonight, we solute the silver anniversary of the great Springfield tire yard fire. Twenty-five years and stilll burning strong.
...We watch Springfield's oldest man meet Springfield's fattest man...
He's not so fat.
And we visit with Heavyweight Champion, Drederick Tatum, who reminisces about growing up in Springfield.
That town is a dump. If you ever see me back there, you know I really up bad.
But first, part seven of our eye-opening look at... the bikini!
Whoa, T and A.
Bart, why are you still up?
Lisa's slumber party.
Who can sleep with those five evil hens cackling and plotting against me?
Boy, they've got better things to talk about than you. Sheesh, what an ego.
Lisa, your brother is so gross!
You should smell his room.
Now remember, Wanda, whatever shape the wax takes, that's what your husband's job will be.
It's a mop. My husband will be a janitor.
That looks like an Olympic torch to me. Your husband could be an Olympic athlete who will go on to have a great acting career.
It's a dustpan.
The wax never lies.
Let's play truth or dare.
Truth or dare, truth or dare.
I'll take -- "dare".
I dare you to -- kiss Lisa's brother.
Eeeeeewwwwww!
What the... ?
Aaahhh!
Ptew!! Ptew!! I'm telling Mom and Dad.
You're telling who?
Mom and Dad!
Now you can't talk until somebody says your name!
Coming up next, an elephant who never forgets... to brush!
What is it, boy?
Is anything the matter, my son? Talk to me, young man.
Say your name? Why should I do that, my lad?
Because I'm "jinxed" dammit!
Ow! What was that for?
You spoke while you were jinxed so I get to punch you in the arm. Sorry, it's the law. Heh, heh.
There he is! Let's give him a make-over.
Run for it boy!
Come here, Maggie.
That's it. I'm outta here.
Hiya, Homer.
What's the matter, Moe?
Ah, business is slow. People today are healthier and drinking less. You know, if it wasn't for the Junior High school next door no one would even use the cigarette machine.
Yeah, things are tough all over.
Increased job satisfaction and family togetherness are poison for a purveyor of mind-numbing intoxicants like myself.
Could I get a beer?
Uh, yeah, sure.
Oh sorry, I forgot we're out of beer.
Yeah, I know, I got behind on my beer payments. The distributor cut me off and I spent my last ten grand on the "Love Tester".
You're too late, Homer. Barney sucked it dry. Cut his gums up pretty bad.
Take it easy, Homer. I learned how to make other drinks at Bartender's School.
Gin and... tonic? Do they mix?
Hey, I know a good drink. Really hits the spot. I invented it myself...
One night Marge's beastly sisters were showing slides from their latest vacation.
... and this is Patty trying to plug her leg razor into one of those ungodly Czechoslovakian outlets.
Sorry, Harv.
As you can see, we never did get the hang of it.
Aye carumba!
As I stared up at that hairy yellow drumstick, I knew I needed a drink.

She ain't lyin'.

But I guess I was wrong. You are a bad father.

Leave me alone.

Good morning, everybody, and welcome to an event that harkens back to the carefree days of the Great Depression -- The Soapbox Derby.

In just minutes, these junior Al Unser Juniors will lock horns.

"Name your son's hobbies." Building a soapbox racer... "Name your child's friends." Martin... Martin! I'll curse that name 'til the day I die... Huh? "Who is your son's heroe?"...

Three-time Soapbox Derby Champion Ronnie Beck!

Wow, I'm one question away from being a perfect father. "Name another dad you talked to about parenting."

Hey ho Simpson.

Shut up Flanders. Flanders!

Flanders, Flanders, uh, uh, when should a boy start dating?

Well sir, there are two schools of thought...

Great, thanks.

I talked to Flanders about parenting. I'm a perfect father. Hold on, son, I'm-a coming!

My friend and I have a bet -- Are you Mary Tyler Moore?

Bart, if she breaks up on you, steer away from the grandstands, or else you might kill hundreds of innocent spectators. Bart what did I just tell you?

Kill spectators.

What is the matter with you?

It's my dad. Lying there on the couch drinking a beer, staring at the TV. I've never seen him like that.

Forget about your father. You're driving for me now!

Do it for your old man, boy!

Simpson, prepare to die.

Let's rock.

Ladies and gentlemen, to drop the checkered flag, our beloved Mayor, Diamond Joe Quimby.

To everyone participating today, I salute your vigor. Check out the rack on the blonde in the fourth row.

... like the arrogant Roman and Judah Ben Hur, these modern charioteers battle ferociously. No quarter given, none asked.

The world has not seen the likes of this since the French carried Lucky Lindy off on their shoulders from Le Bourget Field.

And now, to present the trophy, three time Soapbox Derby Champion, Ronnie Beck.

Congratulations Bart. Seeing you out there brought back a lot of memories.

Thanks, Mr. Beck. I was alone out there, but someone was riding with me in spirit... This is for you, Dad.

No, son, you earned it.

I might remind you both, I did design that racer. The driver is essentially ballast.

The better man won, Simpson. You can really drive.

Thanks, Nelson, put her there.

Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Loser! Nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah!

Bart, you know there is such a thing as being a bad winner.

Mom, I never won before. I may never win again. Nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah!

That's my boy. Nyah-nyah, nyah, nyah-nyah-nyah!

Nyah-nyah, nyah, nyah-nyah-nyah! Nyah-nyah, nyah, nyah-nyah-nyah!

Hello, I'm Kent Brockman and this is Eye on Springfield.

Wow, infotainment.

Tonight, we solute the silver anniversary of the great Springfield tire yard fire. Twenty-five years and stilll burning strong.

...We watch Springfield's oldest man meet Springfield's fattest man...

He's not so fat.

And we visit with Heavyweight Champion, Drederick Tatum, who reminisces about growing up in Springfield.

That town is a dump. If you ever see me back there, you know I really up bad.

But first, part seven of our eye-opening look at... the bikini!

Whoa, T and A.

Bart, why are you still up?

Lisa's slumber party.

Who can sleep with those five evil hens cackling and plotting against me?

Boy, they've got better things to talk about than you. Sheesh, what an ego.

Lisa, your brother is so gross!

You should smell his room.

Now remember, Wanda, whatever shape the wax takes, that's what your husband's job will be.

It's a mop. My husband will be a janitor.

That looks like an Olympic torch to me. Your husband could be an Olympic athlete who will go on to have a great acting career.

It's a dustpan.

The wax never lies.

Let's play truth or dare.

Truth or dare, truth or dare.

I'll take -- "dare".

I dare you to -- kiss Lisa's brother.

Eeeeeewwwwww!

What the... ?

Aaahhh!

Ptew!! Ptew!! I'm telling Mom and Dad.

You're telling who?

Mom and Dad!

Now you can't talk until somebody says your name!

Coming up next, an elephant who never forgets... to brush!

What is it, boy?

Is anything the matter, my son? Talk to me, young man.

Say your name? Why should I do that, my lad?

Because I'm "jinxed" dammit!

Ow! What was that for?

You spoke while you were jinxed so I get to punch you in the arm. Sorry, it's the law. Heh, heh.

There he is! Let's give him a make-over.

Run for it boy!

Come here, Maggie.

That's it. I'm outta here.

Hiya, Homer.

What's the matter, Moe?

Ah, business is slow. People today are healthier and drinking less. You know, if it wasn't for the Junior High school next door no one would even use the cigarette machine.

Yeah, things are tough all over.

Increased job satisfaction and family togetherness are poison for a purveyor of mind-numbing intoxicants like myself.

Could I get a beer?

Uh, yeah, sure.

Oh sorry, I forgot we're out of beer.

Yeah, I know, I got behind on my beer payments. The distributor cut me off and I spent my last ten grand on the "Love Tester".

You're too late, Homer. Barney sucked it dry. Cut his gums up pretty bad.

Take it easy, Homer. I learned how to make other drinks at Bartender's School.

Gin and... tonic? Do they mix?

Hey, I know a good drink. Really hits the spot. I invented it myself...

One night Marge's beastly sisters were showing slides from their latest vacation.

... and this is Patty trying to plug her leg razor into one of those ungodly Czechoslovakian outlets.

Sorry, Harv.

As you can see, we never did get the hang of it.

Aye carumba!

As I stared up at that hairy yellow drumstick, I knew I needed a drink.