Homer: Dad!
Abe: Son!
Homer: I'm a screw-up. I burned down our house.
Abe: No, I'm a screw-up. _I_ burned down our house.
Homer: You know what?
Abe: What?
Homer: We're _both_ screw-ups.
Abe: It doesn't matter. What matters is, you were right when you told
me I never said anything nice about you.
Homer: [fearful] So...are you going to say something nice now?
Abe: Well I hadn't thought _that_ far ahead. [pause] Oh, OK, here it
goes: I'm not sorry I had you, son. I was always proud...that
you weren't a short man.
Homer: Aw, Dad!
[they hug as the house roof caves in]
Abe: What do you say we roll on the grass, Son?
Homer: I'm with you, Dad.
[they roll around, shouting, trying to extinguish the flames on
their clothes]
-- All's well that ends well,
"Grampa vs. Sexual Inadequacy"
