Jazzy and the Pussycats/Quotes

(Bart practices his new drum set all over town and accidentally crashes into the band White Stripes.)

Jack White: Hey, kid, why don't you watch where you're drumming?!

Bart: Sorry, White Stripes. No hard feelings?

(Meg and Jack White look at each other.)

Meg White: Let's kick his ass!

Homer: Boy, get dressed! You’re going to a jazz brunch as punishment for all the racket you’re making.

Bart: I thought you wanted me to drum?

Homer: Hmph. I’m sending you mixed messages. Now get the hell out of here! (slams door then opens it again) I love you so much. Damn you!

Defonzo 'Skinny' Palmer: We were about to play a quick set and we were wondering if you…

Lisa: Yes?

Defonzo 'Skinny' Palmer: Lisa Simpson…

Lisa: Yes?

Defonzo 'Skinny' Palmer: Would do us the honor…

Lisa: Yes!

Defonzo 'Skinny' Palmer: Of sitting in…(Lisa gasps) that chair in the audience. We wanna jam with your brother.

Lisa: All I wanted was to save those animals while Bart became a drummer, but I never thought the two stories would intersect!

Bart: I need you to teach me all about the world of juzz.

Lisa: It's jazz! Jazz! You don't even know the name of the thing you're stealing from me!

Jazzy Goodtimes Waiter: What it is, hip cats? Would you like me to scat-sing the menu?

Bart: Hell, no.

Jazzy Goodtimes Waiter: Oh, god bless you, sir!

Bart: So how did Malt Liquor Mommy die?

Marge: Stop calling her that!

(Marge is stressed about the possible doom of Lisa's animals.)

Bart: Oh, this benfit concert is gonna be Scooby Dooby!

Marge: I'm very happy for you, Bart. (Sighs)

Bart: Why are you sad? Thinkin' about your marriage?

(The dog Lisa didn't pick at the Animal Shelter comes back to haunt her in her sleep.)

Dog Spirit: Lisa Simpson, you've doomed me.

Lisa: Me? How?

Dog Spirit: By choosing the cuter puppy. You picked looks over personality, youth over experience, no history of rabies over unknown rabies status. And now I'm going to die!

Lisa: I never wanted that to happen!

Dog Spirit: You suuuck, You suuuck!

(The Dog Spirit scratches on Lisa's door to get out and Lisa opens it.)

Dog Spirit: Ah, thanks, sweetie. You suuuck!

Child Psychiatrist: First, let me assure you that Bart's antics are perfectly normal for a seven-year-old.

Marge: Actually, he's ten.

Child Psychiatrist: Oh, dear. Dear, dear, dear, dear, dear.

(Lisa spots Bart and his Blues muscian friends hanging out in the attic.)

Lisa: Bart! What are you doing here?

Bart: Uh, (stammers) not smoking reefer.

Blues Musician: Uh, that's right. We--we all not smokin' reefer.

(Lisa picks out a dog at the Animal Shelter.)

Lisa: Okay, this little guy's comin' home with me. (Pets the dog) Ooh! Who's going to get neutered tomorrow? You are! Oh, yes you are!

(Marge takes away Bart's laser pointer.)

Marge: Bart! Do you want to leave the funeral early? Do you?

Bart: Yes! Of course.

Bart: My arm! It hurts where the tiger’s biting it!