Guard: Authorization code?
Bob: [sounding like Colonel Hapablap] Code? Son, this is Colonel
Hapablap. That fool McGuckett sprayed runway foam all over Chuck
Yeager's Acura. Now get down there with the chamois triple time!
Guard: But Colonel, I'm under strict orders...
Bob: Sweet Enola Gay, son! Get moving or I'll tear you up like a
Kleenex at a...
[disdainful]
...snot party.
Guard: Sir! Right away Sir!
-- Bob's persona slips momentarily,
"Sideshow Bob's Last Gleaming"
Bob: [sounding like Colonel Hapablap] Code? Son, this is Colonel
Hapablap. That fool McGuckett sprayed runway foam all over Chuck
Yeager's Acura. Now get down there with the chamois triple time!
Guard: But Colonel, I'm under strict orders...
Bob: Sweet Enola Gay, son! Get moving or I'll tear you up like a
Kleenex at a...
[disdainful]
...snot party.
Guard: Sir! Right away Sir!
-- Bob's persona slips momentarily,
"Sideshow Bob's Last Gleaming"
Related:
- Hapablap: What in the world according to Garp -- ? Those are my dress
towels.
[tries the locked door] Who's in my private... - Guard: They're gone!
Hapablap: Hell...not the Wright Brothers plane!
The Smithsonian's gonna have my ass on a... - Bart: Way to guard the parking lot, Top Gun.
Guard:
I have three medals for this. -- Heroism at its finest... - Marge: Do they have to play that rock music? Every note is pounding
into my skull!
[the central part of the speaker shoots through her... - Lisa: He's getting away! [gets covered by the blimp]
Hapablap:
Oh...not the Harrier! We've got a war tomorrow. ... - Marge: Wait! Wait, my children are in there!
Guard:
You must be very proud, Ma'am. -- Thick as a brick... - Bob: There. That's the last condom wrapper.
[a jet flies by,
blowing all the neatly piled trash away] Oh... - Bob: Ahh, Westminster Abbey. Edward the Confessor himself could
not have done better.
Now to set the clocks to Greenwich Mean... - Hapablap: You know what really frosts my Kelvinator?
That friutcup's probably still laughing at...
