"Oh, good. He can grab onto them pointy rocks."
"Oh, no. Them rocks broke his arms and legs!"
"Oh, good. Those helpful beavers are swimming out to save him."
"Oh, no. They're biting him and stealing his pants!"
Uh, Springfield, my computer shows your T-437 is fully operational. Uh, I suggest you-
*Homer pours cola*
Oh, my God! Oh, God, no!
Oh, this can't be happening!
You're operating without a T-437, Springfield! Oh, sweet mother of mercy!
I mean, I mean... my GOD!!
"Good news, Lisa! I don't need your mother anymore. I've created a replacement that's superior to her in almost every way..."
"Dad, that's just a plant."
"Lisa! You will respect your new mother. Now, give her a kiss. Kiss her!"