|The Cartridge Family||
Groundskeeper Willie: Ach! Ye call this a soccer riot? C'mon, boys. Let's take 'em to school!
Scottish men: (chanting and preparing their fists and drain pipes for a fight) Oi! Oi! Oi! Oi!
Homer: It's a handgun! Isn't it great? This is the trigger, and this is the thing you point at whatever you want to die.
Marge: Homer, I don't guns in my house! Don't you remember when Maggie shot Mr. Burns?
Homer: I thought Smithers did it.
Lisa: That would have made a lot more sense.
Homer: (walking out of store to his car) Lousy big shot, thinks he's so big 'cause he's got a lot of guns, if he didn't have any guns I'd show him a thing or two… (at home, pacing the hallway in front of Lisa's bedroom) …let's see him walk into my store and then we'll see who's worried about five-day waiting periods…
Lisa: Dad…it's 3 A.M! Can't you mutter in your room?
Homer: Marge kicked me out.
Lisa: (groans) All right. Go ahead.
Homer: Pushy kids think they can tell me what to do in my house, Why, I tell you these parents these days they don't know how to rear children...
Homer: I'd like to buy your deadliest gun, please.
Gun Shop Owner: Aisle six, next to the sympathy cards.
Moe: And that's how, with a few minor adjustments, you can turn a regular gun into five guns.
TV Announcer: You'll see all your favorite soccer stars. Like Ariaga! Ariaga II! Bariaga! Aruglia! And Pizzoza!
Homer: Oh, I never heard of those people.
TV Announcer: And they'll all be signing autographs!
Homer: A gun is not a weapon, Marge, it's a tool. Like a butcher's knife or a harpoon, or... or an alligator.
Lady: Lookin' for a good time, sailor?
Bart: I certainly am!
Marge: No you're not! [to the lady] He's really not.
Homer [to Marge]: Come to the NRA meeting with me and if you still don't think guns are great, we'll argue some more.
Homer: But I have to have a gun. It's in the Constitution.
Lisa: Dad, the 2nd Amendment is just a remnant from revolutionary days. It has no meaning today.
Homer: You couldn't be more wrong Lisa. If I didn't have this gun, the King of England could just walk in here any time he wants and start shoving you around. Do you want that? (Pokes Lisa) Huh? (Shoves her) Do ya!?
Homer: I'm sorry I lied to you Marge, but this gun had a hold on me. I felt this incredible surge of power, like God must feel when he's holding a gun.
Announcer: This match will decide which nation is the greatest on Earth: Mexico or Portugal!
(The Simpsons eat from everything but the dinner plates which Bart and Homer shot at earlier.)
Marge: Does anyone know where all my dinner plates went?
Homer: Um, you probably left them at work. On another topic, guess who was picked to host the next NRA meeting!
(Points gun to himself)
Marge: Homer, I told you this morning, no guns at the dinner table.
Homer: You said the breakfast table.
Marge: It's the same table!
Homer: Listen, if it'll make you feel any better, I'll put the safety on. (Homer attempts to put the safety on, but accidentally fires the gun. We see the bullet just nick Marge's shoulder in a picture of her hanging on a bulletin board)
Homer: Oh…I guess the safety was on. (He tries again, but again accidentally fires it, this time hitting the same picture of Marge square in the chest)
Homer: …I'd better just put it down.
(He sets the gun on the table. While it rests there, the gun fires itself, and the bullet ricochets off a pot, hitting a knife sitting in a brick of cheese. The knife sails through the air, and stabs the same picture of Marge right between the eyes)
Lisa: No offense Mom, but that was pretty cool.
Salesman: But surely you can't put a price on your family's lives!
Homer: I wouldn't have thought so either, but here we are.
Marge: I'm a lucky woman.
Homer: And I'm a wonderful man.
Marge: Homer, we've got to get out of here!
Homer: Ooh, but I want to do some rioting. (pushes one of the Scotsmen)
Scotsman: (turns to face Homer, screaming) Jobbers cobknots, ya mucker!
Homer: All done! (runs off)
Salesman: Looks like you called me just in time. This home isn't secure at all. (He begins to pocket a few items from around the house.)
Homer: (to Marge) What did I tell you, Marge?
Salesman: Intruders could come in down the chimney, through the mail slot, even hidden in your groceries.
(Homer grabs for his gun, but the cashier holds onto it.)
Cashier: Sorry, the law requires a five-day waiting period. We've got to run a background check.
Homer: Five days? But I'm mad now!
(The cashier pulls the gun away from Homer.)
Homer: I'd kill you if I had my gun.
Cashier: Yeah, well, you don't.