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Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips
Where are you, my little excuse?
We're the ones who messed him up in the first place.
This is to not say my name.
(tires screech)
Shut the fuck up
and come together in holy union.
Where's Flanders now?
now no one can bring grenades to school.
All that glitters is not delicious Duff Gold!
-(grunts) -FLANDERS: Ow!
from the town's semi-amateur hockey team, Vinnie the Vulture.
A rich church usher like you.
who might be a little better at this than me.
(higher dramatic musical sting)
Well, if you ask me, he's not doing so well now.
-I knew it! -Where are you going?
ROD and TODD: We're sure! We're pure!
-What's the matter, son? -Ah, you wouldn't understand.
First things first, we got to start a fire.
Mm. Remarkable.
(slurps, sighs)
(laughs)
(Bart laughs)
Oh, my hands hurt.
(exclaims)
from the baleful presence of his father.
Your turn.
(Flanders humming)
Right here. What do you need?
There's good in him. Let me work with him after school.
The main guy got shingles.
Ay, caramba...!
I'm sorry I was using you. You're a sweet kid.
Bart Simpson, I hereby declare you...
(chuckles) What I meant to say was,
This year, we've just been named the most sedentary school
-Which means... -Time's up.
What's a suitcase?
Help me.
Look who I taught how to ride a bike.
(BART WHISTLING)