[Homer tries to build a barbecue pit, but all the set's content spills out of box and onto cement bed, and when he takes them out and puts them on the barrow filled with bricks, the bricks fall in as well; Homer then tries to put the pit together as much as he can before the concrete dries, but the instructions are covered in wet cement]
English side ruined! Must use French instructions! Le grille? What the hell is that?!
[Cut to some time later, as it appears the pit was built exactly as the box showed]
Yeah, that's one fine looking barbecue pit. [it is revealed to be the design on the box, as the real end result is a jumbled mess] WHY DOESN'T MINE LOOK LIKE THAT?! [finally snaps, then starts hitting the mess of a pit with a crowbar] WHY?! WHY MUST LIFE BE SO HARD?! WHY MUST I FAIL AT EVERY ATTEMPT AT MASONRY?!?!?
[Cut to kitchen, as Marge is making a cake and Bart is licking a popsicle]
How's your father's project coming along?
I think he's almost done. [He looks out, as we see Homer charge towards pit with an umbrella while screaming, shove it into an opening, and fall backwards as it opens up] Yeah, he's done.
[Homer is getting hit by soup cans thrown by Andy Warhol]
AWAndy Warhol
Soup's on, fat boy.
[Homer is on the ground whimpering. Warhol approaches him with a larger soup can. Homer awakes from the dream.]
[waking up] Oh, Marge! Why does art hate me? I never did anything to art. [he holds up his arm, his fist is through one of Andy Warhol's Soup Can paintings] Oh. Let's get out of here.
Edna, look! A dimmer switch could ratchet up the romance in our love nest.
You mean the janitor's closet? Ha!
Oh, what's the matter, Edna? Lately you just say "ha!" to everything.
I want a baby... Now! [Bart is watching them]
Why don't we continue this in Pool Supplies?
[as Homer attempts to get rid of the barbecue pit by putting it in the "Toys for Tots" bin...]
Yeah, hold on there, Santa Claus. That box is for toys only.
Well, of course! Any kid would love to have this ... activity center. It teaches them while they learn!
Yeah, nice try, Saint Nick. Now hit the road, Kris Kringle!
You heard me, [pokes Homer's gut with nightstick] Père Noël. [Homer puts the barbecue pit on the cart and leaves; Fat Tony, Legs, and Louie come and dump a body in a bag into the bin] Whatcha got there?
Homie, I'm really happy you sold your sculpture, but don't you think it may have been a fluke?
Hey, I've always had an interest in art, dating back to my schoolgirl days when I painted portrait after portrait of Ringo Starr.
That's my life you're describing!
I think I remember my own life, Marge.
Moe, this is Astrid, my dealer, and these are my fans: Gunter, Kilto, and Cecil Hamstead on Cecil Cecil.
So, uh, you guys are Euro trash, huh? How's that, uh, workin' out for ya?
GGunter
Eh, to be honest, we are a drift in a sea of decadent luxury and meaningless sex.
Uh-huh, so where might this sea be located?
Why don't people like my art anymore?
Homer, I know you worked hard, but all of your ... things were kind of the same.
Hey, Ray Jay Johnson never changed his act, and he's more popular now than he's ever been.
"You can call him Ray, or you can call him Jay, or you can call him Ray Jay, but you doesn't have to call him..."
[Homer and Bart are throwing welcome mats out of the car windows, covering up the street drains]
Hit the road, "Welcome home"!
Adiós, "Casa de Flanders"!
See you in Hell, "God bless this house"!
So long, "The Simpsons"! ...D'oh!
[after Homer floods Springfield]
AAstrid
[while floating on a log] I love it, Homer! You've turned this town into a work of art! I just wish Jasper Johns hadn't stolen my boat.
JJJasper Johns
[speeds by on a motorboat which splashes Astrid] So long, suckers!
