Homer: Moe, what are you doing here?
Moe: What? What, a bartender can't come by and say hi to his best
customer? Hey, hey there, Midge. Oh, gee, I like what you've
done with your hair.
Marge: You caught me at a _real_ bad time, Moe. I hope you understand
I'm too tense to pretend I like you.
Moe: Uh, and how are the little kids doing? I mean, _really_, how are
they doing? Any disabling injuries, something, say, that the
gambling community might not yet know about? [grabs Bart's leg]
Come here, let me see those knees.
Marge: [stands up] Moe, I think you should leave. [forces him out]
Moe: But Blanche, you gotta help me out here, please! I'm 64 grand in
the hole! They're going to take my thumbs!
-- Moe's Italian, er, Sicilian, roots, "Lisa on Ice"