Chalkboard: I am not certified to remove asbestos

Couch: The family run in and sit down as normal. The camera zooms in on a mouse hole to the right of the couch, and a family of five Simpson-esque mice run in and sit down on their own couch.

(Homer enters Mr. Burns office after Burns has smelled a little too much ether. Mr. Burns sees Homer as The Pilsbury Doughboy.)
Homer: Mr. Burns, I, uh, was wondering if you'd like to sponsor my bowling team... for five hundred dollars.
Mr. Burns: Oh, why, certainly, Pop 'n Fresh. I--I owe my robust physique to your tubes of triple-bleached goo!
(Mr. Burns cuts Homer a check and Homer runs out of the office excitedly.)
Homer: Woohoo! Hey, everybody! If you wanna ask Burns for a favor, now's the time! He's doped up or dying or something!
(Hans Moleman enter Mr. Burns' office.)
Hans Moleman: Uh, excuse me, I'd like to request seventeen dollars for a push broom rebristling.
Mr. Burns: Why it's that delightful TV leprechaun! I'm going to get your lucky charms!
(Cuts to outside his office; power drill sounds.)
Hans Moleman: Oh no, my brains!

Homer: Let me set the scene for you, Marge.
Marge: All right.
Homer: It's a 7-10 split.
Marge: Uh-huh.
Homer: The hardest shot in bowling. It was all up to me.
Marge: Oh!
Homer: So I got up all my courage. Right away, my lips started to move, and I came up with the chant that won the match!
Marge: Who knocked down the pins?
Homer: I don't know. You know, some guy, uh... Otto, I guess.
Marge: Good for him!
Homer: Yes, but, Marge, you're mi--you're missing the point! The individual doesn't matter! It was a team effort! And I was the one who came up with the whole team idea! Me!
Marge: I can't believe Otto picked up a 7-10 split! He's phenomenal!
Homer: But, just--
Marge: Wow!

Moe: Man, you go through life, you try to be nice to people, you struggle to resist the urge to punch 'em in the face, and for what?! For some pimply little puke to treat you like dirt unless you're on a team. Well, I'm better than dirt--well, most kinds of dirt. I mean, not that fancy store-bought dirt. That stuff's loaded with nutrients. I--I can't compete with that stuff.

(Bart and Lisa complain about their new uniforms.)
Bart: Mo-o-om! My slingshot doesn't fit in these pockets. And these shorts leave nothing to the imagination. These uniforms suck!
Marge: Bart, where do you pick up words like that?
(Homer is on the phone in the background.)
Homer: Yeah, Moe, that team sure did suck last night! They just plain sucked! I've seen teams suck before, but they were the suckiest bunch of sucks that ever sucked!
Marge: Homer, watch your mouth!
Homer: Oh, I Gotta go. My damn wiener kids are listening.
Lisa: We are not wieners!
Homer: Then what are you dressed like that for?
Bart and Lisa: They made us.
Homer: (Mocking) Oh, they made us! (Stern) That's loser talk! You gotta start acting more like me and my team! The future league champions of the world! Nothing's gonna stop us now!
(Cut to Mr. Burns discovering the $500 check he wrote for Homer's team.)