This is Papa Bear. Put out an APB for a male suspect, driving a... car of some sort, heading in the direction of, uh, you know, that place that sells chili. Suspect is hatless. Repeat, hatless.— Wiggum
This is Papa Bear. Put out an APB for a male suspect, driving a... car of some sort, heading in the direction of, uh, you know, that place that sells chili. Suspect is hatless. Repeat, hatless.— Wiggum
Sideshow Bob: You...do know that I do had a problem with trying to kill people?
Cecil: Really? I had know idea. For you see, I have been on Mars for the last four years. With my eyes shut and my fingers in my ears.
Sideshow Bob: Touché, Cecil.
Sideshow Bob: Oh c'mon you've wanted to be Krustys sidekick since you were five!
Cecil: I don't know what you're talking about.
Sideshow Bob: What about the bufoon lessons, those four years at clown college?
Cecil: I'd thank you not to refer to Princeton that way!
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