(Homer has totaled his car and Marge's car. An insurance agent is looking over the loss)
Adjuster: Now, before I give you the cheque, one more question. Uh, this place Moe's you left just before the accident, this is a business of some kind?
Homer's Brain: Don't tell him you were at a bar. (gasps) But what else is open at night?
Homer: It's a pornography store. I was buying pornography.
Homer's Brain: Heh heh heh. I woulda never thought of that.
Farmer: 'Fraid old Zeke, he rides up here with me. Can't trust a pig with watermelons, you know.
In the back of the farmer's truck, Homer is eating the watermelons.
(Car show. An attractive, large-breasted, blonde model in a sequin gown is standing next to a car)
Homer: Do you come with the car?
Model: Oh, you! Te-he-he-he!
(Homer goes to look at other cars, another man looks at car)
Man: Do you come with the car?
Model: Oh, you! Te-he-he-he!
Homer: Ah, I can't afford it!
Salesman: Pally, this doesn't cost money. It makes money. You make the payments by plowing driveways on the side.
Homer: Well, I really should discuss this with my wife.
Salesman: Your wife? (imitates whip cracks)
Homer:What, you think I'm gonna buy a $20,000 truck just because you make that noise?
Adam West: I suppose you’re only familiar with the new Batman movies. Michelle Pfeiffer? Ha! The only true Catwoman is Julie Newmar, Lee Meriwether, or Eartha Kitt. And I didn’t need molded plastic to improve my physique. Pure. West. And why doesn’t Batman dance anymore? Remember the Batusi? (starts dancing)
Homer: Heh. Nice meetin’ you... (tugging the kids back and whispering) Just keep moving, don’t make eye contact.
Homer: [sarcastically] If you're gonna get mad at me every time I do something stupid, then I guess I'll just have to stop doing stupid things.
Homer: My prices are so low, you'll think I've suffered brain damage!
Homer: (at church) And now, to read from the Epistles of Saint Paul Homer Simpson. (clears throat) Dear Lord, in your infinite wisdom, you know the number to call when you need a plow is Klondike 5-3226.
Marge: Homer, this is really low.
Homer: Not as low as my low, low prices!
Mayor Quimby: The torch has been passed to a new generation of, uh snowplow people. Come on, give me the key. (he grabs the key from Homer) These look like teeth marks.
Homer: I thought there was chocolate inside! Well, why was it wrapped in foil?
Mayor Quimby: It was never wrapped in foil!
Bart: Dad, who's watching TV at 3:17 a.m.?
Homer: Alcoholics, the unemployable, angry loners.
Homer: It may be on a lousy channel, but the Simpsons are on TV!
Mayor Quimby: Mr. Plow, for making it possible for people to get where they're going without resorting to public transportation or carpooling, I give you the key to the city.
(Homer and Marge are about to go to bed.)
Marge: This might sound silly, but just for a change, would you mind
Homer: Cutting my nails? Brushing my teeth?
(Telephone rings and is answered by Homer.)
Homer: Mr. Plow, that name again is Mr. Plow.
Man: Hello, I'm calling from Delinquent Accounts at Kumatsu Motors.
Homer: Oh, you want the Mr. Plow who plows driveways. This is Tony Plow, you know, from Leave It To Beaver. [pause] Yeah, they were gay.
Homer: Our forecast calls for flurries of passion followed by extended periods of gettin' it on!
