Look, Marge. You don't know what it's like. I'm the one out there every day putting his ass on the line. And I'm not out of order. You're out of order! The whole freakin' system is out of order! You want the truth? You want the truth?? You can't handle the truth! I can't live the buttoned-down life like you. I want it all! The terrifying lows! The dizzying highs! The creamy middles! Sure, I might offend a few of the blue-noses with my cocky stride and musky odors. Oh, I'll never be the darling of the so-called "shifty" fathers who cluck their tongues, stroke their beards, and talk about "what's to be done with this Crease!"

'Cause when you reach over and put your hand into a pile of goo that was your best friend's face, you'll know what to do! Forget it, Marge! It's Naptown!!!