Marge: Okay, We'll Go To The Chili Cook-off, But I Want You To Promise That You Won't Have Any Beer.

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Marge: Okay, we'll go to the chili cook-off, but I want you to promise
that you won't have any beer.
Homer: [trying to pull his boots on] Okay, quit nagging me, I won't
have any beer. Sheesh, why don't you have a cigarette or
something?
Marge: Mm, I suppose I could.
-- You've come a long way, baby,
"El Viaje Misterioso de Nuestro Homer"

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