jamesliu23/simpsons · Datasets at Hugging Face

text stringlengths 7 697
Excellent! Well, today being Saturday, Gentlemen, I guess I'll be taking my comic and...
Uh, uh, uh, ah nice try, Martin. It almost worked. But tonight, this comic book stays right here.
If the comic book stays right here, then so do I.
Me too!
Fine. We're all going to stay here with the comic book. It'll be like a sleep-over. Yeah, a sleep-over. That's what pals do, right? Real friendly-like.
I want to read it again.
Nice try, mister.
Milhouse, the acids in your hands could damage the newsprint. We want to keep this comic forever, so the last one alive will have the honor of being buried with it.
What do you mean, the last one alive?
I meant years from now.
Yeah, sure you did.
Bart, don't push him!
I knew it. You're both against me! Well, nobody makes a sap out of Bartholemew J. Simpson.
I thought you boys might like some milk and microwave s'mores.
Thank you, Mrs. Simpson.
Sweet dreams, boys.
One more step and you're a dead man.
I have to go to the bathroom, Bart.
Yeah, right, so do I, but you don't see me gettin' up.
Hey, what's going on?
Our dear friend Martin was trying to steal the comic book.
Let's tie him up!
Bart, is this how you treat all your guests?
Hmp, impressive.
Quiet, Piggy, or we'll stick an apple in your mouth. We can't take any chances. We'll have to take turns watching him.
Okay. I'll go first.
Oh, so that's your little game. Let old Bart get nice and drowsy, then, when his back is turned... wham!
Well, it is not going to happen, see?
You're going crazy, Bart. I'm telling your mom!
Hey Martin, tell him what we do with squealers.
I don't know. Is it worse than what you do with people that have to go to the bathroom?
You can't stop me.
The hell I can't!
Homer, it's really coming down. Could you check on the boys?
They're fine.
Bart, the comic!
Don't let go of me Bart!
Milhouse, it's not that far to the ground. And the rain has probably softened it up a bit.
No, Bart! No!
You know, if you guys hadn't tied me up, I could be saving the comic as we speak.
Shut up! Shut up!
Help me, Bart! I didn't even want the comic. I wanted Carl Yastrzemski with the big side-burns.
Boys, you better come in the house. You don't want to get the sniffles.
Aw, Mom.
Now come on... You can play your little tie-up game inside. I've got some cocoa on the stove. Who wants imitation marshmallows?
I'd raise my hand, Mrs. Simpson, if I could.
It's no use, fellows. Another comic book has returned to the earth from whence it came.
We worked so hard and now it's all gone... We ended up with nothing because the three of us can't share.
What's your point?
Nothing. It just kind of ticks me off.
Well, the world is safe again... but for how long?
Ah, Chief Wiggum, Archbishop McGee, distinguished guests. I am pleased to dedicate this emergency warning system. In the uh, off chance of a nuclear disaster, this sign will tell you, the good citizens of Springfield, what to do.
Joke's on them. If the core explodes, there won't be any power to light that sign.
And now, I would like to present the man who made this sign possible, by dropping the last of his obstructionist legal challenges... Montgomery Burns.
Mr. Burns is never late. Something must be terribly wrong.
Well, there better be. Nobody leaves Diamond Joe Quimby holding the bag!
Must... turn... over. Got to... greet... dignitaries!
Oh, no, Mr. Burns! We've got to get a doctor!
Absolutely not! No quack sawbones is going to apply his leeches to me! As long as there's an ounce of strength left in me, I...
Mmmm. Mr. Burns is suffering from what we medical men call hypohemia. In layman's terms it's quite simply a lack of blood.
Damn it, doctor, I'm no idiot! I know what hypohemia is. What I want to know is what can we do about it?
Well, at this point, our only hope is a transfusion.
How long does it take to sterilize a needle?
A few seconds.
Well, skip it.
Just leave me enough to get home.
I'm afraid it's not that simple. His blood type is Double-O-Negative. It's quite rare.
But I'm B positive. Damn this common gutter blood in my veins!
Smithers, don't feel so bad. After all, that kidney you donated to me really hit the spot.
How many hairs on my head? Without looking!
Go ahead.
Attention all employees. Our boss and inspiration, Mr. Burns... is at death ... death's door. If you have type Double-O-Negative blood, I implore you to report to the Bloodmobile outside. That is all.
I'd give him my blood, except for one thing.
What's that?
I don't wanna.
I can't believe you guys. There's a human being out there with millions of dollars who needs our help. And you don't wanna cash in? That's why you losers are stuck in this crummy, dead end job.
You know, Homer, I am your supervisor.
Sorry, sir.
Maggie, look. What's that?
Lee-mur. Lee-mur.
Zee-boo. Zee-boo.
What are you doing, honey?
I'm trying to teach Maggie that nature doesn't end with the barnyard. I want her to have all the advantages that I didn't have.
Lisa, we did the best we could... What's a zebu?
It's like an ox, only it has a hump and a dewlap. Hump and dew-lap. Hump and dew-lap.
Marge! Marge! What's my blood type?
A-Positive.
Aw, nuts! Extremely rare blood and I don't have it.
You know his blood type, how romantic.
A mother knows everything about her family.
Oh, yeah? What's my shoe size?
Four B.
How many teeth do I have?
Sixteen permanent, eight baby.
Earmuffs.
I don't want you wearing rings, it looks cheap, but three.
Allergies.
Butterscotch and imitation butterscotch.
Glow in the dark monster make-up.
Oh, Homie, you have lots of hair... Why did you want to know your blood type?

Excellent! Well, today being Saturday, Gentlemen, I guess I'll be taking my comic and...

Uh, uh, uh, ah nice try, Martin. It almost worked. But tonight, this comic book stays right here.

If the comic book stays right here, then so do I.

Me too!

Fine. We're all going to stay here with the comic book. It'll be like a sleep-over. Yeah, a sleep-over. That's what pals do, right? Real friendly-like.

I want to read it again.

Nice try, mister.

Milhouse, the acids in your hands could damage the newsprint. We want to keep this comic forever, so the last one alive will have the honor of being buried with it.

What do you mean, the last one alive?

I meant years from now.

Yeah, sure you did.

Bart, don't push him!

I knew it. You're both against me! Well, nobody makes a sap out of Bartholemew J. Simpson.

I thought you boys might like some milk and microwave s'mores.

Thank you, Mrs. Simpson.

Sweet dreams, boys.

One more step and you're a dead man.

I have to go to the bathroom, Bart.

Yeah, right, so do I, but you don't see me gettin' up.

Hey, what's going on?

Our dear friend Martin was trying to steal the comic book.

Let's tie him up!

Bart, is this how you treat all your guests?

Hmp, impressive.

Quiet, Piggy, or we'll stick an apple in your mouth. We can't take any chances. We'll have to take turns watching him.

Okay. I'll go first.

Oh, so that's your little game. Let old Bart get nice and drowsy, then, when his back is turned... wham!

Well, it is not going to happen, see?

You're going crazy, Bart. I'm telling your mom!

Hey Martin, tell him what we do with squealers.

I don't know. Is it worse than what you do with people that have to go to the bathroom?

You can't stop me.

The hell I can't!

Homer, it's really coming down. Could you check on the boys?

They're fine.

Bart, the comic!

Don't let go of me Bart!

Milhouse, it's not that far to the ground. And the rain has probably softened it up a bit.

No, Bart! No!

You know, if you guys hadn't tied me up, I could be saving the comic as we speak.

Shut up! Shut up!

Help me, Bart! I didn't even want the comic. I wanted Carl Yastrzemski with the big side-burns.

Boys, you better come in the house. You don't want to get the sniffles.

Aw, Mom.

Now come on... You can play your little tie-up game inside. I've got some cocoa on the stove. Who wants imitation marshmallows?

I'd raise my hand, Mrs. Simpson, if I could.

It's no use, fellows. Another comic book has returned to the earth from whence it came.

We worked so hard and now it's all gone... We ended up with nothing because the three of us can't share.

What's your point?

Nothing. It just kind of ticks me off.

Well, the world is safe again... but for how long?

Ah, Chief Wiggum, Archbishop McGee, distinguished guests. I am pleased to dedicate this emergency warning system. In the uh, off chance of a nuclear disaster, this sign will tell you, the good citizens of Springfield, what to do.

Joke's on them. If the core explodes, there won't be any power to light that sign.

And now, I would like to present the man who made this sign possible, by dropping the last of his obstructionist legal challenges... Montgomery Burns.

Mr. Burns is never late. Something must be terribly wrong.

Well, there better be. Nobody leaves Diamond Joe Quimby holding the bag!

Must... turn... over. Got to... greet... dignitaries!

Oh, no, Mr. Burns! We've got to get a doctor!

Absolutely not! No quack sawbones is going to apply his leeches to me! As long as there's an ounce of strength left in me, I...

Mmmm. Mr. Burns is suffering from what we medical men call hypohemia. In layman's terms it's quite simply a lack of blood.

Damn it, doctor, I'm no idiot! I know what hypohemia is. What I want to know is what can we do about it?

Well, at this point, our only hope is a transfusion.

How long does it take to sterilize a needle?

A few seconds.

Well, skip it.

Just leave me enough to get home.

I'm afraid it's not that simple. His blood type is Double-O-Negative. It's quite rare.

But I'm B positive. Damn this common gutter blood in my veins!

Smithers, don't feel so bad. After all, that kidney you donated to me really hit the spot.

How many hairs on my head? Without looking!

Go ahead.

Attention all employees. Our boss and inspiration, Mr. Burns... is at death ... death's door. If you have type Double-O-Negative blood, I implore you to report to the Bloodmobile outside. That is all.

I'd give him my blood, except for one thing.

What's that?

I don't wanna.

I can't believe you guys. There's a human being out there with millions of dollars who needs our help. And you don't wanna cash in? That's why you losers are stuck in this crummy, dead end job.

You know, Homer, I am your supervisor.

Sorry, sir.

Maggie, look. What's that?

Lee-mur. Lee-mur.

Zee-boo. Zee-boo.

What are you doing, honey?

I'm trying to teach Maggie that nature doesn't end with the barnyard. I want her to have all the advantages that I didn't have.

Lisa, we did the best we could... What's a zebu?

It's like an ox, only it has a hump and a dewlap. Hump and dew-lap. Hump and dew-lap.

Marge! Marge! What's my blood type?

A-Positive.

Aw, nuts! Extremely rare blood and I don't have it.

You know his blood type, how romantic.

A mother knows everything about her family.

Oh, yeah? What's my shoe size?

Four B.

How many teeth do I have?

Sixteen permanent, eight baby.

Earmuffs.

I don't want you wearing rings, it looks cheap, but three.

Allergies.

Butterscotch and imitation butterscotch.

Glow in the dark monster make-up.

Oh, Homie, you have lots of hair... Why did you want to know your blood type?