Homer Loves Flanders/Quotes

:Lisa: Dad and Ned Flanders friends? Heh. What's next? A's on Bart's report card?
:(She, Marge and Bart laugh together)
:Bart: (realizes and stops laughing) Hey!
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:Marge: Homie, I'm very proud of you. But don't you think you're spending too much time with Ned? Your family needs you, too.
:Homer: Oh, of course you'd say something like that, Marge. You've hated Ned for years! In fact, you wanted to bash his head in with a pipe.
:Marge: That was you!
:Homer: Love, Marge. Don't hate. Love.
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:Marge: Honey, I'm so glad you're home.
:Homer: Can't talk. See Flanders. Later, sex.
:Marge: (murmurs)
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:Homer: Ned, since you've let me spend time with your family, I want you to get to know my family. (later that day, Homer takes Ned inside Moe's Tavern) Hey, everyone!
:Barney: Hey.
:Homer: I'd like to introduce Ned Flanders, my best friend.
:Moe: Hey, I don't want no people in here with their "evils of alcohol" rap.
:Ned: Wait a second. You're the man at the hospital who reads to sick children.
:(flashback to Moe in the hospital, reading a story to a sick girl)
:Moe: "And truly, she was my friend Flicka." (sniffs)
:(back to the present, where Moe grabs Ned by the shirt collar)
:Ned: (gasps)
:Moe: (while grabbing Ned) If this gets out, the next words you say will be muffled by your own butt!
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:(while cleaning the mantle of the fireplace, Homer throws a picture of his wedding into the garbage can, but Marge picks it up)
:Marge: Homer, that's our wedding photo.
:Homer: Marge, quit living in the past.
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:Homer: If anyone can pull it off, it's Stan "The Boy" Taylor!
:Crowd: Stan, Stan, he's our boy. If he can't do it, no one… will.
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:(while at the game, Ned brings Homer a few snacks to eat while watching, including a nacho hat. He then sits back in his seat)
:Homer: Well, I guess I should pay my share.
:Ned: Ha! Relax, Homer. I keep telling you. You're my guest.
:Homer: (notices the nacho hat) Ooh, you brought me a nacho hat! Thanks, Ned. (puts on the nacho hat, breaks a piece, dips it into nacho sauce and eats it) (singing to the tune of Macho Man while eating) Nacho, nacho man. (breaks another piece, dips it in the sauce and eats it) I want to be a nacho man.
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:Mr. Burns: Men, there's a little crippled boy sitting in the hospital who wants you to win this game. I know because I crippled him myself to inspire you.
:(at the hospital, Milhouse, with a cast on his left foot, is lying in his hospital bed with Luann and Kirk standing over him)
:Milhouse: (to Luann and Kirk) Well, I hope they win, or Mr. Burns said he's coming back.
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:Marty: Oh, we have a winner! What's your name, sir?
:Ned: Ned Flanders.
:Homer: Oh, not Flanders. Anybody but Flanders.
:Ned: Oh, golly. If that doesn't put the "shaz" in "shazam." Oh, listen. What's the cash value of those tickets so I can report it on my income tax?
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:Football Fan: (yelps) Give me, uh, 30,000 tickets.
:Ticket Lady: That'll be $950,000, please.
:Football Fan: Look, the thing about that is I only got $10 on me. Can I pay you the rest later?
:Ticket Lady: Sure.
:(the football fan walks away, while the ticket lady closes the counter with a sign that reads, "Sold Out", much to Homer's dismay)
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:Bart: Hey, Dad, sell you these for fifty bucks.
:Homer: Woo hoo! Sold! (Bart takes the money and runs off)
:Marge: Those aren't tickets to the game, Homer.
:Homer: What do you mean? It says right here: "Free wig with every purchase of large wig. Downtown Wig Center". (realizes that Bart gave him the wig coupon) (to Bart) Why you little! (sits back down) Hmm, free wig.
:(Homer imagines himself with Marge's hair, as he looks at himself in the mirror)
:Homer: (imitating Marge) I love you, Homie. Mmm. (normal voice) Heh, heh, heh. I don't need her at all anymore.
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:(after the game, Stan Taylor gives Homer a football, then leaves afterward)
:Homer: (while hugging the football) Wow, thanks. Now I have four children. You will be called "Stitch-Face."
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:Kent Brockman: Tonight on Eye on Springfield, just miles from your doorstep, hundreds of men are given weapons and trained to kill. The government calls it the Army. But a more alarmist name would be: The Killbot Factory.
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:Grampa: Let's sacrifice him to our god! Come on. We did it all the time in the thirties.
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:Ned: Homer, maybe you'd have more fun at Moe's tonight.
:Homer: Ah, for some reason, Moe's always closed on Wednesdays.
:(Pan to the corner of the shelter, where Moe reads aloud to some homeless people)
:Moe: "And then they realized they were no longer little girls...they were little women." (sniffs and closes the book, shedding a tear)
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:Homer: I'd like to propose a toast to the coming together of the Simpsons and the Flanders. If this were a more perfect world, we'd all be known as the Flimpsons. So here's to my best friend, Ned.
:Ned: (sighs) Well, sir, my entire family is very touched and--
:Homer: Food fight!
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:Lisa: Don't worry, Bart. It seems like every week something odd happens to the Simpsons. My advice is to ride it out, make an occasional smart-aleck quip, and by next week, we'll be back to where we started from, ready for another wacky adventure.
:Bart: Ay, caramba!
:Lisa: That's the spirit.
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:(in the Flanders' basement, Homer and Ned play pool)
:Ned: (to Homer about him leaning on the pool table while aiming) Uh, be careful there, Homer. That is sort of a new table.
:Homer: (chuckles) Watch this, Ned. (resumes aiming, but leans on the pool table more) They don't call me "Springfield Fats" just because I'm morbidly obese! (proceeds to aim, but the weight from his leaning causes the pool table's legs to collapse while Homer is on top of the table)
:Ned: (gasps)
:Homer: Now you got a lawsuit on your hands. Just kidding.
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:(while Ned and Homer drive out of the parking lot after the game, Lenny and Carl are seen walking)
:Ned: Ooh, I guess it's time for me to duck again.
:Homer: No! I want everyone to know that... (yelling out to Lenny and Carl from the window) this is Ned Flanders, my friend! (drives away)
:Lenny: What did he say?
:Carl: I don't know. Something about being gay.
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:Lisa: What's so special about this game anyway? It's just another chapter in the pointless rivalry between Springfield and Shelbyville. They built a mini-mall, so we built a bigger mini-mall. They made the world's largest pizza, so we burnt down their city hall.
:Homer: (chuckles) Yeah, they swore they'd get us back by spiking our water supply. But they didn't have the guts.
:Marge: (drinks the tap water, which makes the kitchen melt as Marge is hallucinating) Ohh, the walls are melting again. (chuckles)
:(the oven door opens, and a tray with a roasted chicken inside slides out of the door. The roasted chicken stands up)
:Roasted Chicken: Personally, I think I'm overdone. (flies out the window while leaving a trail behind)
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:Homer: Why am I such a loser? Why?
:Bart: Well, your father was a loser, and his father, and his father. It's genetic, man. (realizes that he is a loser, too) D'oh!
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:(at the Shelbyville Stadium, a long line of people are waiting to get tickets for the game, and Homer, who is sleeping in a sleeping bag, is second in line. Homer snores a bit, turns around, sits up and yawns as he wakes up)
:Homer: (chuckling) I did it. Second in line, and all I had to do was miss eight days of work.
:Just Stamp the Ticket Man: With the money you would have made working, you could've bought tickets from a scalper.
:Homer: In theory, yes. Jerk.
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:Lenny: Hey! Look, Homer's got one of those robot cars.
:(a crash is heard offscreen)
:Carl: One of those American robot cars.
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:Ned: Homer, I-I'd love to chitty-chat, but tonight's the night I do my charity work.
:Homer: Uh, yeah. A judge made me do that once, too. Stupid lack of public urinals.
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:Kent Brockman: But first, Springfield has come down with a fever, football fever, brought on by the biggest game of the year. The pigskin classic between the Shelbyville Sharks and our own Springfield Atoms. If you have the fever, there's only one cure. Take two tickets and see the game Sunday morning.
:TV Voiceover: Warning: tickets should not be taken internally.
:Homer: See? Because of me, now they have a warning.
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:Homer: (wakes up instantaneously) Marge, I think I hate Ted Koppel! No, wait. I find him informative and witty. Night. (goes back to sleep and snores)
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:(Bart offers a couple of pixie sticks to Rod and Todd)
:Rod: Thank you, but we're not allowed.
:Bart: Ah, it's okay. There's no sugar in pixie sticks. Trust me.
:Rod: Okay. (takes a pixie stick, dumps the sugar into his hand, and eats it. The sugar from the pixie stick causes Rod to start going hyperactive)
:(Todd takes the pixie stick from Rod and sucks it like a straw. Rod notices him right away)
:Rod: (under the hyperactive effects of sugar) Don't hog it all, smelly head! (grabs the pixie stick)
:Todd: (under the hyperactive effects of sugar) Go to hell, zit face! (grabs the pixie stick)
:Rod: Give me that sugar cane! (he and Todd begin to fight each other over the sugar cane)
:Bart: (cackling)
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:(at nighttime, Homer, with a pipe in his hand, sneaks to the front door of the Flanders' house, rings the doorbell and prepares to hit Ned with the pipe)
:Marge: Homer!
:Homer: Huh?
:Marge: Are you planning to hit Ned Flanders with that pipe and take his tickets?
:Homer: Ye…no. (Ned answers the door and Homer prepares to hit him, but changes his mind) Oh.
:Ned: Hmm?
:Homer: Flanders, I decided I'd like to go to the game with you.
:Ned: (chuckles) Well, get out the Crayolas and color me "Tickled Pink". Ooh, what's with the lead pipe? Were you gonna give my noggin a floggin'?
:Homer: Well, yeah.
:(they both laugh)
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:Homer: God, if you really are God, you'll get me tickets to that game. (doorbell rings, and Homer opens the door to see Ned with two tickets in his hand)
:Ned: Hi-diddly-ho, neighbor. Wanna go to the game with me? I got two tickets.
:(Homer slams the door in front of Ned)
:Homer: Why do you mock me, O Lord?
:Marge: Homer, that's not God. That's just a waffle that Bart tossed up there. (scrapes it down with a broom)
:Homer: Mmm. I know I shouldn't eat thee, but-- (eats waffle) Mmm. Sacrilicious.
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:Maude: Come on, Ned! Move this thing!
:Ned: I can't! It's a Geo!
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:(Homer is in his car on a line to enter the power plant)
:Homer: Ho-ho. Stupid sheep. (Cuts the line and drives in the wrong lane, where a spike strip pops all of his car tires) (shouting) D'oh! D'oh D'oh D'oh! D'oh!