Marge: Ned, Homer and I are a little concerned with the way the
school's being run.
Homer: [mouth full of peanut butter cups] Yes. Deeply concerned.
Ned: I may go a little easy on the old hickory-dickory stick, but
that's just because my dad was hard on me when I was a boy.
[flashback to New York City; a young Ned spills some ink]
Young Ned: Whoopsie doodle.
Ned's Dad: Oh, man! Ned spelled ink all over my poems. He's a real
flat tire, I mean a cube, man. He's putting us on the train
to Squaresville, Mona!
-- Ned, the product of beatniks?,
"Sweet Seymour Skinner's Baadasssss Song"
