-Oh my great good God! Gentlemen, your attention please. I am detecting a gigantic amphibious life-form, it's 80 meters long and it's heading this way. Oh good glayven it's on my shoe. It's a small frog, just get off, just get off there, just get out of it, get out of it. Stupid machine, oh wait a minute, this isn't the Monsterometer, it's the Frog-Exaggerator Mm-hai

-Pi is exactly 3

- Brace yourselves gentlemen, according to the gas chromatograph, the secret ingredient is...LOVE?!?! Who's been screwing with this thing?

- This radio-controlled plane gives your baby the chance to fly, just like my son here. He can execute the barrel-roll, loop-de-loop, then bring it in for the perfect landing. Whu.
*The plane crashes through the window.*
Oh dear, my wife is going to kill me.

- Well, as you can see, when the burglar trips the alarm, the house raises from it's foundations and runs down the street, round the corner to safety...*The house falls over and bursts into flames* Well the... the real humans won't uh... won't burn quite so fast in there, mw-hai.

- Man! if this is happening here, I hate to think what's happening at Euro Itchy and Scratchy land.

- I first observed this technology at the airport gift shop. *claps, can dances* As you see, it responds to any percussive sound with an exuberant shaking of its groove thing, yeah, yeah

- Ng-hey. I doubt very highly that one elixir could boast so many fantastic properties. *drinks grandpa's tonic and transforms into the 'Jerry Lewis' character*
Let's say we amscray out of here and have a wild wingding at the Cyclotron, doctor?
Female Scientist: Anything you say, professor, whoaah.

Frink: Mwa-hey, bwa-hai. The compression and expansion of the longitudinal waves cause the erratic oscillation, you can see it there, of the neighbouring particles.
*A little girl attracts Professor Frink's attention*
Frink: Yes, what is it, what, what is it?
Little Girl: Can I play with it?
Frink: No you can't play with it, you won't enjoy it on as many levels as I do... Mm-hai bw-ha whoa-hoa. The colours children. Mwa-ha-lee

Lisa:  Well, where's my Dad?
Frink: Well, it should be obvious to even the most dim-witted individual who holds an advanced degree in hyperbolic topology, ng-bwui, that Homer Simpson has stumbled into...
*The lights go off*
Frink: ...the third dimension.
*Lisa turns the lights back on*
Lisa:  Sorry.
Frink: Here is an ordinary square...
Wiggum: Whoa, whoa. Slow down, egghead!
Frink: ...but suppose we extend the square beyond the two dimensions of our universe along the hypothetical Z axis, there.
*Frink draws a wire frame cube on the blackboard.*
Everyone: *Gasps*
Frink: This forms a three-dimensional object known as a "cube", or a "Frinkahedron" in honour of its discoverer, ngu-hey, ng-hey.
Homer: Help me!  Are you helping me, or are you going on and on?
Frink: Oh, right. And, of course, within, we find the err doomed individual.

Grampa: I'll save Homer. All I need is four stout men to work the bellows.
Frink: No pops! It's too risky. For all we know there could be cubes in there the size of gorillas and other large...
Homer: Help! I don't have much time.

Frink: Ha ha wha. Oh, sorry I'm late. There was trouble at the lab with the running and the exploding and the crying when the monkeys stole the glasses off my head. Wh-ha ha.
*The screen fades*
Frink: Oh, no, please no. I have a funny story if you listen. I even wrote theme music, here listen. Ha ha, mm-m hey hey,
Professor Frink, Professor Frink,
He'll make you laugh, he'll make you think,
He likes to run, and then the thing,
with the... mm-m person... Oh boy, that monkey is going to pay

*Lenny rests on Frink's back to fill in his tax return form.*
Frink: Oh no... No no, I felt that. You didn't carry the one you foolish person. Now you'll incur the penalties with the compound interest and the wrath and the truncheons.

*Mark Hamill offers the role of Obi Wan Kenobi to the audience*
Lenny:  Mark, Mark, Mark, Mark, pick me. My whole life has been leading to this moment.
Carl:   Like hell it has. If anybody's gonna play Obi, it's me.
Frink:  Right, step away foolish amateurs, just keep back, keep out of it. The role is mine with the acting and the groupies and the "Luke, Luke, save me" with the light sabre and the vwing, vwing, vwing.
Willie: That's not how you vwing. *Willie punches Frink which starts a riot*

- I have captured the signal and I am presently triangulating the vectors and compressing the data down in order to express it as a function of my hand. They're over there.

-Excuse me, Lisa, but I couldn't help but overhear your nerdy predicament.  Maybe I can be of assistance with the dancing and the twisting and the *singing* kung fu fighting.  Deedle-deedle dee dee doo.

- Well first of all, we're going to ban such barbaric sports as Bull-fighting and Cock-fighting. Also Boxing, both kick and the type with the gloves, and hockey, football, push-ups and anything in general where you have to take off your shirt, it's so embarrassing.

- Please stay in character, gentle wench.

- We studied traffic patterns and found that drivers move the fastest through yellow lights, so now we just have the red and yellow lights, mm-haiai

Lyndsey Nagle: Do I detect a note of sarcasm?
Frink: *with sarcasm detector* Are you kidding me? This baby is right off the charts, mm-hai.
Comic Book Guy: A sarcasm detector, that's a real useful invention.
*Sarcasm detector explodes*

- You should all listen to what i say. My I.Q. is 199 for crying out flayven *bangs head* 198...197...