Marge: Excuse me, we're having a problem with our dog.
Clerk: Lady, I'll tell you what I'm telling everyone else: I'm sorry if
your dog went blind, but your gripe is with Hartz Mountain, not
with me.
Marge: No, no! Our dog is out of control: he's wild, destructive, and
has little or no respect for authority.
Clerk: Hmm...let me try a canine-human mind meld. It's an incredibly
rare psychic power possessed only by me and three other clerks at
this store.
[puts his hands on SLH's face]
OK...bruff! Bruff! Bruff! [groans] I'm bored...I'm restless.
Need change in life...ruff!...like imported leather leash,
ruff!...Er, blue contact lenses, ruff!...200-volt shock training
collar --
[later, in a car full of canine accessories]
Homer: Well, problem solved. [dusts his hands together]
Marge: Homer! Hold on to the wheel.
Homer: You got it. [does so]
-- The wonders of modern pet psychiatry,
"Two Dozen & One Greyhounds"
