Marge: [panicked] I think I'll go get a picture of the plane taking off.
[struggles with her seat belt]
Homer: Marge, what's wrong? Are you hungry? Sleepy? Gassy? Is it
gas? It's gas, isn't it?
Marge: Homer, I've never told you this before, but I'm not a good flyer.
[pants, gasps] I have to get off the plane. Let me off the
plane. [stands up] I'm asking you nicely to open the doors!
Homer: Take it easy, Marge. How about if we dope you up real good?
Marge: [screaming] Let me off let me off let me off let me off let me
off let me off -- [runs up and down the aisle]
[the plane takes off as the family watches]
Homer: It's OK, Marge. We don't need to go on a trip; we'll just wait
for the killer bees to come to us.
-- Homer, consoling, "Fear of Flying"
