Fear of Flying/Quotes
- Pilot: You're not just pretending to be a pilot to drink are you?
- Homer: Yes.
- Pilot: Ha-ha. You fly boys crack me up.
- Homer: I keep telling you, I'm not a pilot!
- Pilot: And I keep telling you, you fly boys crack me up!
- Homer: Bart, where's my wallet?
- (Bart pulls Homer's wallet out of his own pocket)
- Bart: Right here, dad!
- Homer: Thank you!
Homer has been banned from Moe's Tavern, a portly man wearing a top hat and good suit enters Moe's Tavern. He looks remarkably like Homer, except he has a long mustache
- Man: Good evening, may I trouble you for a beer?
- Moe: Oh, get out of here, Homer!
- Man: Who could Homer be? My name is Guy Incognito. I...AUGH!
- Guy Incognito is pummelled and tossed out of Moe's Tavern, where he lies unconscious on the street. Homer is walking by and stops to see Guy Incognito bears a striking resemblance to him
- Homer: (Gasps) Oh my God! This man is my exact double! (Gasps) That dog has a puffy tail!" Homer runs off to chase dog
- Norm: Woody, gimme a beer.
- Woody: I think you had enough, Mr.Peterson. My chiropractor says I can't carry you home anymore.
- Norm: Just gimme another beer, you brain dead hick! I'll kill ya! I'll kill all of ya!
- Doctor Zwieg: Go on Marge, tell me more about your father.
- Marge: (nervous rambling) Sure, I will tell you about father. Father Christmas. That is what they call Santa Claus in England. They drive on the wrong side of the road there. Now that is crazy! People are always talking about how small England is but you could not fit it in Springfield. Not by a long shot! You know what, I am cured!
- Dr. Zwieg: Marge, get back here!
- Homer: So, Marge, pretty sweet, eh?
- Marge: Hmm. Oh, I forgot to clean the lint basket in the dryer. If someone broke into the house and did laundry, it could start a fire.
Cut to Bart sitting next to Maggie, who is crying
- Bart: Oh, great. I specifically asked not to be seated next to a baby.
- Grandpa: (looking out window) Wow...we must be really flying high! Those people down there look all tiny and blurry...just like the inside of a cataract.
Marge has just revealed that she is ashamed of the fact her father made his living by working as a flight attendant
- Dr. Zwieg: Marge, there is nothing to be embarrased about. Male flight attendants, or stewards, as the old term is, are now quite common on flights. Your father was a pioneer for public acceptance of that.
- Marge: You might even say he was an American hero.
- Dr. Zwieg: Let us not go overboard.
- Marge: Could there be other reasons I became afraid of flying?
Flashback to Marge as an infant in a high chair being spoon fed by her grandmother
- Marge's grandmother: Here comes the airplane!
Marge's grandmother has poor depth perception and aims the spoon of baby food at Marge's eye, not her mouth, poking Marge
- Baby Marge: WAH!
Forward in time to Marge as a toddler playing with a pedal-power minature jet. Although a pedal-powered toy; the phony wings on the toy somehow become aflame
- Marge: AUGH!
Forward in time to Marge as a little girl with a younger Jacqueline Bouvier on a sightseeing trip of a cornfield in the Midwest. A crop duster flies low and attacks Marge and Jacqueline with machine gun fire
- Jacqueline & Marge: AUGH!
Fades to present
- Dr. Zwieg: Yeah, I suppose they all did.
