Lisa the Greek/Quotes

:Smooth Jimmy Apollo: Today's game between the Denver Broncos and the New England Patriots is too close to call. But if you are one of those compulsive types that just has to bet, uh, I don't know... Denver.
:Homer: Woo hoo! Denver! Yeah!
:(Homer phones Moe)
:Moe: Moe's Tavern. Where the peanut bowl is freshened hourly.
:Homer: Moe, I'd like to bet twenty dollars on Denver.
:Moe: (slyly) I think I can provide that service. (looks around) Um, uh, Chief Wiggum, could you hand me that little black book?
:Chief Wiggum: Oh, sure thing, Moe. I was just using it as a coaster.
:Wiggum hands Moe the betting book.
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:Homer has just lost his bet.
:Smooth Jimmy Apollo: Well folks, when you're right 52% of the time, you're wrong 48% of the time.
:Homer: (yelling at the TV) Why didn't you say that before?!
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:Lisa: What could be more exciting than the savage ballet that is pro football?
:Homer: Well...you know...you like ice cream, don't you?
:Lisa: Uh-huh.
:Homer: And don't you like ice cream better when it's covered with hot fudge and mounds of whipped cream and chopped nuts and, oh, those crumbled-up cookie things they mash up. Mmm...crumbled-up cookie things.
:Lisa: So gambling makes a good thing even better.
:Homer: That's right. (startled) My god, it's like there's some kind of bond between us.
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:Homer: Well, bye-bye, belt!
:Homer removes his belt, which lets his belly all hang out. He then starts to binge on his favorite snacks as he starts to watch "Inside Football Today" on TV. Marge sees this a few seconds later.
:Marge: All those fatty, deep-fried, heavily salted snacks can't be good for your heart.
:Homer: Pfft! My heart is just fine.
:The camera zooms into Homer's body to show a close-up of his heart. The heart is pumping so wildly that a clot builds up in an artery, which starts in inflate like a balloon. Thankfully, it unclogs itself as it gurgles. Cuts back to Homer and Marge.
:Homer: A little beer will put out that fire.
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:The results of the first play of the Broncos vs. Patriots game are in.
:Homer: All right, Denver. Justify my love.
:Smooth Jimmy Apollo: At the end of thirteen seconds of play, it's New England seven, Denver nothing.
:Homer: D'oh!
:Lisa walks into the room and blocks Homer's view, showing off her homemade Malibu Stacy apartment.
:Lisa: Look, Dad! I made a modest studio apartment for my Malibu Stacy doll. This is the kitchen; this is where she prints her weekly feminist newsletter... (Homer, however, isn't paying attention to Lisa) Dad, you're not listening to me!
:Homer: Lousy, stupid Denver.
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:Marge is in the kitchen giving Maggie a bath in the sink. Lisa comes in with her homemade apartment.
:Marge: Oh, look at that. A shoebox house. Lisa, you're so clever!
:Lisa: Why isn't Dad ever interested in anything I do?
:Marge: Well, mmm, do you ever take an interest in anything he does?
:Lisa: No. Well, we used to have burping contests, but I outgrew it.
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:Lisa: You know why these clothes are on sale, Mom? Because the people who wear them get beaten up.
:Marge: Well, anyone who beats you up for wearing a shirt isn't your friend.
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:Lisa: Boy, Mom sure will be happy you won fifty dollars!
:Homer: You'd think that, wouldn't you? But, you see, Lisa, your mother has this crazy idea that gambling is wrong, even though they say it's okay in the Bible.
:Lisa: Really? Where?
:Homer: Uhh, somewhere in the back.
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:Homer tucks Lisa into bed that night.
:Lisa: Good night, Dad. I had a nice time today.
:Homer: Me too, honey.
:Lisa: Can I watch football with you again next Sunday?
:Homer: Sure! You'll find it gets rid of the unpleasant aftertaste of church.
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:New York defeats Philadelphia 35 by 10.
:Homer: (tosses Lisa in the air in celebration) Yaay!
:Lisa: Yaay! (Homer tosses her up again) Whoa! (Homer tosses her up for the third time) Dad, I hate to break the mood, but I'm getting nauseous.
:Homer: Oh, sorry. (stops tossing Lisa)
:Homer and Lisa begin to talk about what teams they like.
:Homer: So who do you like in the afternoon games?
:Lisa: Well, I like the 49ers because they're pure of heart, Seattle because they got something to prove, and the Raiders because they always cheat.
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:Maggie, Homer and Lisa watch the conclusion of another football game.
:Smooth Jimmy Apollo: Oh, doctor, what a finish! The final score: Atlanta 17, Houston 13. The lowly Falcons are flying high! Who would have thunk it?
:Homer: My daughter, that's who.
:Lisa: Yeah, me.
:Homer: Lisa, you pick the winner every time. You must have some kind of special gift.
:Lisa: C'mon, Dad, it doesn't take a genius to realize that Houston's failed to cover their last ten outings on away turf the week after scoring more than three touchdowns in a conference game.
:Homer: Ooh, my little girl says the cutest things.
:Lisa: Dad, Sunday is fast becoming my favorite day of the week.
:Homer: Not Sunday. Daddy-daughter day.
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:Miss Hoover's class are reading their essays about their happiest day of their lives.
:Ralph: ...and when the doctor said I didn't have worms anymore, that was the happiest day of my life.
:Miss Hoover: Thank you, Ralph. Very graphic. Lisa Simpson, would you like to read your essay?
:Lisa gets out of her desk and walks to the front of the room with her essay in hand.
:Lisa: The happiest day of my life was three Sundays ago. I was sitting on my daddy's knee when the Saints, who were four-and-a-half-point favorites, but only up by three, kicked a meaningless field goal at the last second, to cover the spread.
:Miss Hoover: (shocked) Dear god!
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:Lisa: Look around you, Malibu Stacy. All this was bought with dirty money. Your penthouse, your Alfa Romeo, your collagen injection clinic...
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:Lisa: Look, Dad. I'll tell you who's going to win the Super Bowl if you want me to, but it'll just validate my theory that you cared more about winning money than you did about me.
:Homer: Okay.
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:At Moe's, Moe, Homer, Barney and the rest of the gang cheer while watching a Super Bowl commercial for Duff Beer.
:Duff Super Bowl Commercial Announcer: It's a touchdown for halfback Dan Beer-dorf! Duff Dry has won the Duff Bowl!
:Moe: They wanted it more.
:Barney: Hey, Homer, didn't you say if Duff Dry wins, your daughter loves you?
:Homer: Not Duff Dry, Washington!
:Barney: Okay, okay, they're both great teams.
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:On one of the channels Homer flips through for game predictions, Professor Frink shows off his latest invention for predicting game scores.
:Professor Frink: After evaluating millions of pieces of data in the blink of an eye, the Gamble-Tron 2000 says the winner is...
:The Gamble-Tron 2000 prints out the result on a sheet of paper that Professor Frink takes and reads
:Professor Frink: Cincinnati by 200 points?! Why, you worthless hunk of junk! (Frink begins to kick the Gamble-Tron 2000 in anger for not predicting correctly, breaking the machine in the process)
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:Meanwhile, while Super Bowl XXVI is watched by the gang at Moe's and by Bart and Lisa back at home, Reverend Lovejoy is surveying his congregation in church, only to see that a man and two old women are the only ones present.
:Lovejoy: Well, I'm glad some people could resist the lures of the big game.
:Man: Oh my god! I forgot the game!