Killin' what you try to do

You louse, you had no right to do that.

Chrissy, it is my pleasure to present to you the winner's cup.

If you can't wait till next Sunday for the big game, get a sneak peek of it Thursday on an all-new Simpsons.

Geez, when you revert back to being an idiot, you don't fool around.

Chrissy, you have ten seconds to spell the same word.

I mean, you tend to favor more common and base pastimes.

All I'm supposed to do is tell you, you've been told.

Really, Gus, now, doesn't this all seem a little boring to you?

You have absolutely no ability whatsoever to make us one more stinking dime.

Unless you think you're man enough to get past the 1955 Sears traditional sleeper sofa.

What you do is you put this end in your mouth, and then you use your big toe to flick that little what's-it-my-call-it stand.

Well, you know, it's always been my dream to match wits with 13-year-olds and win.

Oh, well, Gus, I guess you and I just have to go back to being, uh, being... Darn it, what's that word that rhymes with normal that starts with an N?

Hey, maybe the toxins caused you to develop a case of the smarts, like in that movie, The Rain Man.

So why don't you just go back and tell your crazed den mother to send her mindless drones into somebody else's land of Goshen, all right?