Lisa: Bart, just get out of here.
Bart Simpson: Hey, you get out out. It's a free country.
Lisa: That doesn't make any sense.
Bart Simpson: I know you are, but what am I?
Lisa: Get out, get out!
Bart Simpson: All right. But on my way, I'm going to be doing this...
[windmills his arms]
Bart Simpson: If you get hit, it's your own fault.
Lisa: Okay, then I'm going to start kicking air, like this...
[kicks up her foot]
Lisa: And if any part of you should fill that air...
[kicks up her other foot]
Lisa: It's *your* own fault.
[They shut their eyes and move toward each other, grunting as they flail or kick. Cut to downstairs in the kitchen, where Marge and Homer are. Their grunts soon turn to yells of pain, and sounds of fighting]
[Lisa is playing goalie for a minor hockey team]
Lisa: Milhouse, knock him down if he's in your way. Jimbo, Jimbo, go for the face. Ralph Wiggum lost his shin guard. Hack the bone. Hack the bone.
Homer: Wow. Eye of the tiger, mouth of a Teamster.
[At the hockey match]
Homer: Okay Marge, its your child against my child. The winner will be showered with praise. The loser will be taunted and booed until my throat is sore.
Lisa: Bart! What are you doing in my room?
Bart Simpson: Lisa, certain differences - rivalries, if you will - have arisen between us. At first I thought that we could talk it out, like grown-ups. But instead, I just ripped the head off Mr. Honeybunny!
Lisa: [confused] Bart, that was your cherished childhood toy.
Bart Simpson: AH! Mr. Honeybunny!
[pushes the head back on, and kisses it]
[Marge hears Bart and Lisa fighting upstairs]
Marge Simpson: Oh, I'd better go check on them. Now, Homer, don't you eat this pie.
Homer: All right, Marge.
Homer: All right, pie. I'm going to start doing this...
[makes chomping motion]
Homer: -and if you get eaten, it's your own fault.
[He shuts his eyes, and moves toward the pie, making chomping motions, but hits his head on the stove hood]
Homer: OW! AH! Oh, my... oh, to hell with it.
[Before the big hockey game]
Bart Simpson: Good luck, Lis. I'll try not to *hurt* you.
Lisa: That's okay, I'm wearing my lucky rabbit's *head.*
[reveals it on a string around her neck]
Bart Simpson: [gasp] Mr. Honeybunny! You inhuman monster!
Lisa: You want a piece of me?
[They start fighting, Apu pulls them apart]
Apu: Hey, hey! Save this precious hatred for the game!
[Milhouse is quaking in the goalie position]
Milhouse Van Houten: I could have been equipment manager, but nooooo!
Edna Krabappel: All right, children, it's book report time. We'll go in alphabetical order. Today will be A-M.
Bart Simpson: Saved! I love being a S-S-S-S-Simpson!
Edna Krabappel: Let's see, we have no A's. So we'll go right to the B's. Bart?
Bart Simpson: Huh?
Edna Krabappel: Ha!
Principal Skinner: Attention, students, this is Principal Skinner, your principal, with a message from the principal's office. Report immediately for an assembly in the Butthead Memorial Auditorium.
Principal Skinner: Damn it, I wish we hadn't let the students name that one.
Principal Skinner: First academic alert: Wiggum, Ralph.
Ralph Wiggum: I won! I won!
Principal Skinner: No, no, Ralph, this means you're failing English.
Ralph Wiggum: Me fail English? That's unpossible!
Homer: Lisa, if the Bible has taught us nothing else, and it hasn't, it's that girls should stick to girls' sports, such as hot-oil wrestling, foxy boxing, and such-and-such...
[Lisa has received an academic alert that she is failing gym class]
Marge: Lisa, your father and I are very concerned about this warning. I really hope you try harder.
Homer: Whew. That's all of 'em.
[puts stack of academic alerts in front of Bart]
Homer: And I'm so proud you didn't try to forge my name. How about a present, son?
Bart: Well, I could use a new pair of hockey skates.
Homer: Done and done.
Lisa: That's not fair. Why is Bart getting a present and I'm getting chewed out?
Homer: [sitting back] Ah, the mysteries of life.
Chief Wiggum: [Bart's team has won the hockey game] YES! We won! We wo-o-o-n! Um, unfortunately, since I bet on the other team, we won't be going out for pizza.
Homer: Can somebody pass the mustard?
[Bart tries to pass the mustard to Homer, but Lisa blocks it]
Lisa: You're going to have to do better than that tonight, chump.
Marge Simpson: I won't have any aggressive condiment passing in my house!