jamesliu23/simpsons · Datasets at Hugging Face

text stringlengths 7 697
Why, you little --
Put a man on him.
I liked the other boy. So polite.
What are you doing to save my baby boy?
Uh well, ma'am, we've located a piece of machinery in Shreveport, Louisiana, that could pop him out lickety-split.
Well, why don't you get it?
Well, I'm afraid we've got a budget problem, Mrs. Simpson. Your boy picked a bad time to fall down a well. Had he done it at the start of the fiscal year, no problemo.
You're telling me that the city won't pay to get a boy out of a well?
Well, they would have for Timmy. People loved that little guy. But your son, well, he kinda played us all for a bunch of saps.
Gentlemen, this canary died of natural causes.
Back in the hole!
So it seems we've all been the victims of a cruel hoax, perpetrated by a ten-year-old-hooligan. The time has come for finger-pointing. And most of them are squarely aimed at the boy's parents.
It's not our fault. We didn't want the boy, he was an accident.
Uh, could you edit that last part out?
Mr. Simpson, we're live coast-to-coast.
One plus one plus three is five/ Little Bart Simpson's buried alive / He's so neat / He's so sweet / Now the rats have Bart to eat.
Hey, stop that!
Sorry, Lisa.
How many days until Bart croaks. One, two, three, four...
And our new number one hit, "I Do Believe We're Naked", by Funky C Funky Do, replaces "We're Sending Our Love Down The Well", which plunges all the way down to number ninety-seven.
Ever since I've called for the rescue of that Simpson lad, I 'Have taken a lot of heat. So, I am flip-flopping. I say, "Let him stay down there!"
Yeah, Shutton here. Now that's a story!
Bart? Honey, I made you an extra-warm sweater you can wear while you're down in the well.
Mom, it's too big.
Don't worry, you'll grow into it.
You know, I've done a lot of bad stuff through the years. I guess now I'm paying the price. But there's so many things I'll never get a chance to do. Smoke a cigarette, use a fake I.D., shave a swear word in my hair...
That's all I can stands, I can't stands no more. I'm gonna get you outta there myself.
Now, why didn't I think of that?
Agnes, we've got work to do.
This is Kent Brockman with a special bulletin. The Lincoln Squirrel has been assassinated. We'll stay with the story all night if we have to.
What's going on?
It's an old fashioned hole diggin'. By gar, it's been a while.
The canary!
Sting, you look tired. Maybe you should take a rest.
Not while one of my fans needs me.
Actually, I don't know if I've ever heard Bart play one of your albums--
Shh! Marge, he's a good digger.
Mom! Dad!
Oh Bart, I've missed you so much.
Man, I was so scared.
Don't worry son, they're gonna make sure no one ever falls down this well again.
That should do it.
Hey everybody, Bret Gunsilman here in pivotal week three of the NFL on Fox.
Now stay tuned for six hours of exciting football action.
Well, bye-bye belt.
Homer, all those fatty, deep-fried, heavily salted snacks can't be good for your heart.
Pfft, my heart is just fine.
A little beer will put out that fire.
And now with his picks for today's games, the man who's right fifty-two percent of the time, Smooth Jimmy Apollo.
Thank you, Bret. Our first game today -- Denver and New England -- is too close to call.
But if you're one of those compulsive types who just has to bet -- well, I don't know... uh... Denver.
Whoo hoo! Denver, yeah!
Moe's Tavern. Where the peanut bowl is freshened hourly.
Moe, I'd like to bet twenty dollars on Denver.
I think I can provide that service. Um, uh, Chief Wiggum, could you hand me that little black book?
Oh, sure thing, Moe. I was just using it as a coaster.
Twenty big ones on Denver.
Pleasure doing business with you, H. S.
All right, Denver. Justify my love.
I don't know, the Dolphins.
At the end of thirteen seconds of play, it's New England seven, Denver nothing.
Look, Dad. I made a modest studio apartment for my Malibu Stacey doll. This is the kitchen, this is where she prints her weekly feminist newsletter...
DAAAAAD! You're not listening to me.
Lousy, stupid Denver.
Oh, look at that, a shoe box house. Lisa, you're so clever.
Why isn't Dad ever interested in anything I do?
Well... do you ever take an interest in anything he does?
No.... well, we used to have burping contests, but I outgrew it.
Hmmm, well, if you want to get closer to him then maybe you should bridge the gap. I do it all the time. I pretend I'm interested in looking at power tools, going to those silly car chase movies, and... some things I'll tell you about when you're older. Do you understand?
I think so.
Whaaat?
Ho, look at that score. Moxy!
Why did you do that?
Wouldn't it be fun if we watched the game together?
Okay, just don't say anything and sit down over there.
Over... over... over...
Lisa, please, I can't hear the announcer.
He said Denver just fumbled.
See you in Hell, soldier boy!
Yeah mom?
I was thinking that while your father and Lisa watch the game, it might be fun if the two of us went clothes shopping.
Mom, I'd love to. But to be honest, I don't need new clothes.
Oh really?
So even though I'd love to spend this sunny afternoon trying on clothes. It's not...
Well folks, when you're right fifty-two percent of the time, you're wrong forty-eight percent of the time.
Why didn't you say that before!
Okay, Jimmy, you're off the hook. We've got Miami Cincinnati coming up. Any thoughts?
I certainly do, Brett. I hereby declare Miami to be Smooth Jimmy's "Lock of the Week."
Oooh, that's a big lock all right. I just don't trust that guy.
In the Cincinnati - Miami game, I declare Cincinnati to be my "Shoe-in of the Week".
Huh, they both make a good case.
After evaluating millions of pieces of data in the blink of an eye, the Gambletron 2000 says the winner is... Cincinnati by two hundred points?! Why you worthless hunk of junk!
You want some of this don't ya?
Well you need to know the winners. And I know the winners. So call me now!
Whoa! Five dollars for the first minute. Two dollars for each additional minute.
You have reached the Coach's hot...
Line...
Yeah, lay it on me, coach.
In the game of Mi-a-mi...
...versus Cin-

Why, you little --

Put a man on him.

I liked the other boy. So polite.

What are you doing to save my baby boy?

Uh well, ma'am, we've located a piece of machinery in Shreveport, Louisiana, that could pop him out lickety-split.

Well, why don't you get it?

Well, I'm afraid we've got a budget problem, Mrs. Simpson. Your boy picked a bad time to fall down a well. Had he done it at the start of the fiscal year, no problemo.

You're telling me that the city won't pay to get a boy out of a well?

Well, they would have for Timmy. People loved that little guy. But your son, well, he kinda played us all for a bunch of saps.

Gentlemen, this canary died of natural causes.

Back in the hole!

So it seems we've all been the victims of a cruel hoax, perpetrated by a ten-year-old-hooligan. The time has come for finger-pointing. And most of them are squarely aimed at the boy's parents.

It's not our fault. We didn't want the boy, he was an accident.

Uh, could you edit that last part out?

Mr. Simpson, we're live coast-to-coast.

One plus one plus three is five/ Little Bart Simpson's buried alive / He's so neat / He's so sweet / Now the rats have Bart to eat.

Hey, stop that!

Sorry, Lisa.

How many days until Bart croaks. One, two, three, four...

And our new number one hit, "I Do Believe We're Naked", by Funky C Funky Do, replaces "We're Sending Our Love Down The Well", which plunges all the way down to number ninety-seven.

Ever since I've called for the rescue of that Simpson lad, I 'Have taken a lot of heat. So, I am flip-flopping. I say, "Let him stay down there!"

Yeah, Shutton here. Now that's a story!

Bart? Honey, I made you an extra-warm sweater you can wear while you're down in the well.

Mom, it's too big.

Don't worry, you'll grow into it.

You know, I've done a lot of bad stuff through the years. I guess now I'm paying the price. But there's so many things I'll never get a chance to do. Smoke a cigarette, use a fake I.D., shave a swear word in my hair...

That's all I can stands, I can't stands no more. I'm gonna get you outta there myself.

Now, why didn't I think of that?

Agnes, we've got work to do.

This is Kent Brockman with a special bulletin. The Lincoln Squirrel has been assassinated. We'll stay with the story all night if we have to.

What's going on?

It's an old fashioned hole diggin'. By gar, it's been a while.

The canary!

Sting, you look tired. Maybe you should take a rest.

Not while one of my fans needs me.

Actually, I don't know if I've ever heard Bart play one of your albums--

Shh! Marge, he's a good digger.

Mom! Dad!

Oh Bart, I've missed you so much.

Man, I was so scared.

Don't worry son, they're gonna make sure no one ever falls down this well again.

That should do it.

Hey everybody, Bret Gunsilman here in pivotal week three of the NFL on Fox.

Now stay tuned for six hours of exciting football action.

Well, bye-bye belt.

Homer, all those fatty, deep-fried, heavily salted snacks can't be good for your heart.

Pfft, my heart is just fine.

A little beer will put out that fire.

And now with his picks for today's games, the man who's right fifty-two percent of the time, Smooth Jimmy Apollo.

Thank you, Bret. Our first game today -- Denver and New England -- is too close to call.

But if you're one of those compulsive types who just has to bet -- well, I don't know... uh... Denver.

Whoo hoo! Denver, yeah!

Moe's Tavern. Where the peanut bowl is freshened hourly.

Moe, I'd like to bet twenty dollars on Denver.

I think I can provide that service. Um, uh, Chief Wiggum, could you hand me that little black book?

Oh, sure thing, Moe. I was just using it as a coaster.

Twenty big ones on Denver.

Pleasure doing business with you, H. S.

All right, Denver. Justify my love.

I don't know, the Dolphins.

At the end of thirteen seconds of play, it's New England seven, Denver nothing.

Look, Dad. I made a modest studio apartment for my Malibu Stacey doll. This is the kitchen, this is where she prints her weekly feminist newsletter...

DAAAAAD! You're not listening to me.

Lousy, stupid Denver.

Oh, look at that, a shoe box house. Lisa, you're so clever.

Why isn't Dad ever interested in anything I do?

Well... do you ever take an interest in anything he does?

No.... well, we used to have burping contests, but I outgrew it.

Hmmm, well, if you want to get closer to him then maybe you should bridge the gap. I do it all the time. I pretend I'm interested in looking at power tools, going to those silly car chase movies, and... some things I'll tell you about when you're older. Do you understand?

I think so.

Whaaat?

Ho, look at that score. Moxy!

Why did you do that?

Wouldn't it be fun if we watched the game together?

Okay, just don't say anything and sit down over there.

Over... over... over...

Lisa, please, I can't hear the announcer.

He said Denver just fumbled.

See you in Hell, soldier boy!

Yeah mom?

I was thinking that while your father and Lisa watch the game, it might be fun if the two of us went clothes shopping.

Mom, I'd love to. But to be honest, I don't need new clothes.

Oh really?

So even though I'd love to spend this sunny afternoon trying on clothes. It's not...

Well folks, when you're right fifty-two percent of the time, you're wrong forty-eight percent of the time.

Why didn't you say that before!

Okay, Jimmy, you're off the hook. We've got Miami Cincinnati coming up. Any thoughts?

I certainly do, Brett. I hereby declare Miami to be Smooth Jimmy's "Lock of the Week."

Oooh, that's a big lock all right. I just don't trust that guy.

In the Cincinnati - Miami game, I declare Cincinnati to be my "Shoe-in of the Week".

Huh, they both make a good case.

After evaluating millions of pieces of data in the blink of an eye, the Gambletron 2000 says the winner is... Cincinnati by two hundred points?! Why you worthless hunk of junk!

You want some of this don't ya?

Well you need to know the winners. And I know the winners. So call me now!

Whoa! Five dollars for the first minute. Two dollars for each additional minute.

You have reached the Coach's hot...

Line...

Yeah, lay it on me, coach.

In the game of Mi-a-mi...

...versus Cin-