I had to wash it, rub it with neat's-foot oil.
You did me a favor, Homer. And to think,
I was about to sell the bar to Hooters. Yeah, you were-- D'oh!
Well, I guess that wraps it up. There's one thing I don't get though.
When my face was crushed, why did it go back to my old face?
Shouldn't it have turned into some kind of third face that was different? Don't make no--