Homer: Hello Marge? It's me, Homer. Are you still mad?
Marge: [continues scowling]
Homer: You <are> still mad. Don't need to say it, I'm your loving
husband, I can read you like a book. [goes to the fridge] I'll
just have some milk. [using a glass] Look! I'm not drinking out
of the carton! [breaks down] Come on Marge! Please forgive me!
[goes down on his knees] I'm sorry! I'm so sorry...
Marge: [with contempt] Homer, you don't even know why you're
Homer: Yes, I do. Because I'm hungry, my clothes are smelly, and I'm
-- "Homer's Night Out"