jamesliu23/simpsons · Datasets at Hugging Face

text stringlengths 7 697
So long, officers. Uh-oh.
Hey, what's all the --
My beer... my beer... my beautiful beer.
The poor boy is so desperate. He wants to earn money to buy a comic book.
A comic book! Oh, my, boys never change. Which one is it, "Nazi Smasher"?
I don't think so.
Send him over to my house, I got a few chores he could do. He knows how to mix whitewash, don't he?
Mrs. Glick?
Eh, you must be Burt Simpson! Well, you look like you've got a strong young back!
Would you like something to eat? I've got dried apricots... almond paste, sauerkraut candy.
No, thanks. Who's that?
Oh, that's my brother, Asa. He was killed in the Great War. Held a grenade too long.
This one's for you Kaiser Bill. Special delivery from Uncle Sam and all the boys in D Company: Yeah! Johnny, Harrison, Brooklyn Bob and Reggie. Yeah, even Reggie. He ain't so stuck-up once you get to know...
Here, have some ribbon candy. Boys love candy.
No, thanks.
Boys love candy.
Oh, yes, ma'am!
Ugh, I think I'd rather just get to work, Ma'am.
We'll start with a little light yard work. And when you're done, you can have a nice barley pop.
I want you to clear out all the weeds. You do know which ones are weeds?
All of 'em?
Good boy.
Now be careful with these. I'll be inside watching my stories.
Ow!. . .Ow!
Jack, please. I'm married.
That must be what's turning me on.
Oh... Stop it... some more.
Filthy, but genuinely arousing.
Finished.
Merciful heavens, you're bleeding! I'll get the iodine.
Now, don't fidget.
Listen, lady, you don't have to -- YAAAUUUUGGGHHH!
They've never improved on iodine.
Hi, Mom.
Did you make any money?
Not yet, but at least I'm in a lot of pain.
Well, I think what you're doing for Mrs. Glick is very nice. The poor old thing doesn't have anybody.
There's a reason.
The sludge certainly collects around those downspouts, don't it?
I'll sludge you, you old bat.
Today, we wash Beulah. Do you know what that is?
Some old lady thing, nobody's heard about for fifty years?
No, it was my wedding dress, but then I dyed it black and it became my mourning dress.
Great story, lady.
Last night I dreamed I held you in my arms.
No! No, not the iodine! Burn the germs off with a torch, amputate my arm, but not the -- YAAAUUUGGGHHH!
Well, it's payday. I'll wager you've been looking forward to this.
Two quarters.
Two quarters?
You deserve every penny. You know, I've told a lot of my girlfriends about you and they have chores too.
Two quarters!
Bart, you didn't say thank you.
Listen lady, I can leave without screaming, and I can leave without saying a bad word, but there's no way that I am saying thank you.
You're welcome. All right then, off you go, to spend it on penny whistles and moon pies.
Moon pies, my butt... Somebody oughta moon pie her...
What's the problem, boy?
I've been bustin' my hump all week for that withered old clam, and all I got was fifty cents.
Hey, when I was your age, fifty cents was a lot of money.
Really?
Dad, I've done everything I could and I've only got thirty-five bucks. Ugh.. I am through with working. Working is for chumps.
Son, I'm proud of you. I was twice your age before I figured that out.
Can you let me have it for forty dollars?
Forty bucks? Forget it! You made me get off my stool for that?
It's all I've got. I sold seeds. I visited my aunt in the nursing home. I fished a dime out of the sewer, for God's sake!
No way. What do you want?
Can I have it for thirty-five?
No!... No!... Freakin' kids. I do not need this, I've got a Masters degree in folklore and mythology.
Excuse me, do you have the Carl Yastrzemski baseball card from 1973, when he had big sideburns?
Show me the thirty bucks, because if you ain't got it, I ain't gettin' off the stool.
Wait a minute, Martin. If you, Milhouse and I went in together, we could buy a copy of "Radioactive Man No. 1" right now!
Here you go. "Muttonchop Yaz."
I don't want it.
Freakin' kids!
Look, pal. We've got a hundred bucks and we'd like to buy "Radioactive Man No. 1". So why don't you just waddle over there and get it.
Yes sir.
Wow! Breathe it in, boys!
This is the stuff dreams are made of.
It smells like my grandpa.
Uh-oh, looks like rain. We better get this baby home.
Looks like you bought more than you bargained for.
My pants... caught on barbed wire... Good Lord Choke... an A-bomb!
Yaarrgh!
I'm becoming radioactive. From this day forward, I shall call myself Radioactive Man.
So that's how it happened!
I would've thought being hit by an atomic bomb would have killed him.
Now you know better.
Turn the page, Bart.
Listen, you guys are welcome to come over and read it any time you like.
Why can't we keep it at my house?
Your house? That's crazy talk!
Well, the comic's ours as much as it is yours.
How about this, guys. Bart can have it Mondays and Thursdays. Milhouse will get it Tuesdays and Fridays. And yours truly will take it Wednesdays and Saturdays.
Perfect.
Wait a minute. What about Sunday?
Yeah. What about Sunday?
Well, Sunday possession will be determined by a random number generator. I will take the digits one through three. Milhouse will have four through six. And Bart will have seven through nine.
Perfect.
Wait a minute. What about zero?
Yeah! What about zero?
Well, in the unlikely event of a zero, possession will be determined by "Rock, Scissor, Paper" competition. Best three out of five, how's that?

So long, officers. Uh-oh.

Hey, what's all the --

My beer... my beer... my beautiful beer.

The poor boy is so desperate. He wants to earn money to buy a comic book.

A comic book! Oh, my, boys never change. Which one is it, "Nazi Smasher"?

I don't think so.

Send him over to my house, I got a few chores he could do. He knows how to mix whitewash, don't he?

Mrs. Glick?

Eh, you must be Burt Simpson! Well, you look like you've got a strong young back!

Would you like something to eat? I've got dried apricots... almond paste, sauerkraut candy.

No, thanks. Who's that?

Oh, that's my brother, Asa. He was killed in the Great War. Held a grenade too long.

This one's for you Kaiser Bill. Special delivery from Uncle Sam and all the boys in D Company: Yeah! Johnny, Harrison, Brooklyn Bob and Reggie. Yeah, even Reggie. He ain't so stuck-up once you get to know...

Here, have some ribbon candy. Boys love candy.

No, thanks.

Boys love candy.

Oh, yes, ma'am!

Ugh, I think I'd rather just get to work, Ma'am.

We'll start with a little light yard work. And when you're done, you can have a nice barley pop.

I want you to clear out all the weeds. You do know which ones are weeds?

All of 'em?

Good boy.

Now be careful with these. I'll be inside watching my stories.

Ow!. . .Ow!

Jack, please. I'm married.

That must be what's turning me on.

Oh... Stop it... some more.

Filthy, but genuinely arousing.

Finished.

Merciful heavens, you're bleeding! I'll get the iodine.

Now, don't fidget.

Listen, lady, you don't have to -- YAAAUUUUGGGHHH!

They've never improved on iodine.

Hi, Mom.

Did you make any money?

Not yet, but at least I'm in a lot of pain.

Well, I think what you're doing for Mrs. Glick is very nice. The poor old thing doesn't have anybody.

There's a reason.

The sludge certainly collects around those downspouts, don't it?

I'll sludge you, you old bat.

Today, we wash Beulah. Do you know what that is?

Some old lady thing, nobody's heard about for fifty years?

No, it was my wedding dress, but then I dyed it black and it became my mourning dress.

Great story, lady.

Last night I dreamed I held you in my arms.

No! No, not the iodine! Burn the germs off with a torch, amputate my arm, but not the -- YAAAUUUGGGHHH!

Well, it's payday. I'll wager you've been looking forward to this.

Two quarters.

Two quarters?

You deserve every penny. You know, I've told a lot of my girlfriends about you and they have chores too.

Two quarters!

Bart, you didn't say thank you.

Listen lady, I can leave without screaming, and I can leave without saying a bad word, but there's no way that I am saying thank you.

You're welcome. All right then, off you go, to spend it on penny whistles and moon pies.

Moon pies, my butt... Somebody oughta moon pie her...

What's the problem, boy?

I've been bustin' my hump all week for that withered old clam, and all I got was fifty cents.

Hey, when I was your age, fifty cents was a lot of money.

Really?

Dad, I've done everything I could and I've only got thirty-five bucks. Ugh.. I am through with working. Working is for chumps.

Son, I'm proud of you. I was twice your age before I figured that out.

Can you let me have it for forty dollars?

Forty bucks? Forget it! You made me get off my stool for that?

It's all I've got. I sold seeds. I visited my aunt in the nursing home. I fished a dime out of the sewer, for God's sake!

No way. What do you want?

Can I have it for thirty-five?

No!... No!... Freakin' kids. I do not need this, I've got a Masters degree in folklore and mythology.

Excuse me, do you have the Carl Yastrzemski baseball card from 1973, when he had big sideburns?

Show me the thirty bucks, because if you ain't got it, I ain't gettin' off the stool.

Wait a minute, Martin. If you, Milhouse and I went in together, we could buy a copy of "Radioactive Man No. 1" right now!

Here you go. "Muttonchop Yaz."

I don't want it.

Freakin' kids!

Look, pal. We've got a hundred bucks and we'd like to buy "Radioactive Man No. 1". So why don't you just waddle over there and get it.

Yes sir.

Wow! Breathe it in, boys!

This is the stuff dreams are made of.

It smells like my grandpa.

Uh-oh, looks like rain. We better get this baby home.

Looks like you bought more than you bargained for.

My pants... caught on barbed wire... Good Lord Choke... an A-bomb!

Yaarrgh!

I'm becoming radioactive. From this day forward, I shall call myself Radioactive Man.

So that's how it happened!

I would've thought being hit by an atomic bomb would have killed him.

Now you know better.

Turn the page, Bart.

Listen, you guys are welcome to come over and read it any time you like.

Why can't we keep it at my house?

Your house? That's crazy talk!

Well, the comic's ours as much as it is yours.

How about this, guys. Bart can have it Mondays and Thursdays. Milhouse will get it Tuesdays and Fridays. And yours truly will take it Wednesdays and Saturdays.

Perfect.

Wait a minute. What about Sunday?

Yeah. What about Sunday?

Well, Sunday possession will be determined by a random number generator. I will take the digits one through three. Milhouse will have four through six. And Bart will have seven through nine.

Perfect.

Wait a minute. What about zero?

Yeah! What about zero?

Well, in the unlikely event of a zero, possession will be determined by "Rock, Scissor, Paper" competition. Best three out of five, how's that?