Kent Brockman's Daughter: My new doll is much better than Malibu Stacy. Do a newscast about her.
Kent Brockman: Ho ho, please, honey, Daddy's job is to bring people important news. Right now I'm busy preparing a report about the fortieth anniversary of Beetle Bailey.
Kent Brockman's Daughter: Oh, Daddy, that is boring. Talk about the dolly!
Kent Brockman: Well, you were right about the Berlin Wall.
Lisa: Make sure you get my mom's hair just right!
Stacy Lavelle: Um, I think we'll use someone different for the hair.
Lisa: How about me?
Stacy Lavelle: Um, there's something not quite…
Bart: How about me?
Stacy Lavelle: Uh…
Homer: How about me?
Stacy Lavelle: (yelling)You all have hideous hair!
(the family gasps) I mean, from a design point of view.
Lisa: Thanks for buying us these toys, Grampa.
Grampa: Ehh, why didn't you get something useful, like storm windows, or a nice pipe organ? I'm thirsty! Ew, what smells like mustard? There sure a lot of ugly people in your neighborhood. Oh! Look at that one.
(Homer parks the car in the driveway; everyone jumps out except Grampa.) Grampa: Ow, my glaucoma just got worse. The president is a Demmycrat. (Everyone rushes into the house) Hello? I can't unbuckle my seat belt. Hello? (Honks horn repeatedly)
Lisa: It's not funny, Bart. Millions of girls will grow up thinking that this is the right way to act; that they can never be more than vacuous ninnies whose only goal is to look pretty, land a rich husband, and spend all day on the phone with their equally vacuous friends talking about how damn terrific it is to look pretty and have a rich husband!
Bart: Just what I was going to say.