Ned: OK, folks, look: I called the police captain in Shelbyville.
He says he hasn't seen our kids, but if they show up in the
morgue, he'll fax us.
Mr. Van H: Oh, man, I _hate_ those Shelbyville jerks.
Mrs. Van H: Honey, _I_ was born in Shelbyville.
Mr. Van H: And it tears me up inside!
Marge: This is my fault. I tried to teach Bart about town pride,
but the power of my words filled him with a sort of madness.
Homer: Now, Marge, you can't blame all of Bart's problems on your
one little speech. If anything turned him bad, it's that
time you let him wear a bathing suit instead of underwear.
_And_ let's not forget your little speech!
Marge: Isn't there anything we can do?
Homer: Yes there is! Come on, everybody, let's go into Shelbyville
and get those kids back ourselves. I got an RV we can use:
Everyone: Yay! Let's do it. etc.
Flanders: Well, OK, but you know, just go a little bit easy on --
Homer: Pile in, everybody. No time to wipe your feet.
-- Wouldn't want to waste valuable seconds,
"Lemon of Troy"