Homer: Oh, my invention! All our money problems could have been --
Marge: Money problems? Homer, are we in some sort of fiduciary trouble?
[Homer imagines Marge dressed like a queen]
Homer: Oh, Marge, my loyal wife, of course not.
[Lisa walks up; Homer imagines her differently]
And Lisa, my little princess.
[Bart walks up]
And who could forget dear Ratboy?
Bart: Ratboy? I resent that. [gnaws on doorframe]
Marge: Bart, I told you before, stop gnawing on the drywall.
Nelson: Ha, ha! Bart's so poor he has to eat cardboard for lunch!
Millhouse: What are you eating?
Nelson: Drywall. (Takes a bite, coughs).