(At the dinner table, much to Homer's disgust, the rest of the family begins rapidly shoveling in their food.)
Homer: No, We're going to say grace first.
Bart: Okay. Rub-a-dub-dub, thanks for the grub.
(The family begins eating again.)
Homer: (Growls) No! Ignore the boy, Lord. Now can the chatter, and bow your heads. (Clears throat) Dear Lord, thank you for this microwave bounty, even though we don't deserve it. I mean, our kids are uncontrollable hellions. Pardon my French, but they act like savages. Did you see them at the picnic? Oh, of course you did. You're everywhere. You're "omnivorous." O Lord why did you smite me with this family?
Marge, Lisa and Bart: Amen!
Bart: Let's eat.
Homer: No, I'm not done yet!
Marge: But, Homer, how long are we supposed to sit here and listen to you bad mouth us to the Man Upstairs?
Homer: I'm sorry, Marge, but sometimes I think we're the worst family in town.
Marge: Maybe we should move to a larger community.
Bart: Don't have a cow, Dad.