Who Shot Mr. Burns? (Part One)/Quotes

[noticing the dog with a cone on walking past] Hey, the lamp's runnin' away. That's my dog, man. So long lamp.

As long as Mr. Burns is pumping oil, this bar is closed. Damn Burns! Just let me get one thing.
 * [Moe pulls his makeshift shotgun from behind the bar and cocks it.]

Me too! [pulls out a .38 revolver] Ahh... now there's the inflated sense of self-esteem!

Skinner said my idea was 'unplausible'. Bart, even if they were able to resurrect The Three Stooges, I doubt they'd want to hang out with you. Yeah, they probably got families or somethin'.

Although Mr. Burns did send us this thank you card. [reading aloud] Marge, Bart, Lisa and Maggie. Dad this doesn't have your name on it. [angry monotone voice] Kids, could you step outside for a sec?
 * [Bart and Lisa run out of the room.]

[takes a deep breath, then shouts] Fu-
 * [Homer's dirty word is cut off by a pipe organ. Shocked neighbors look in the Simpsons house.]

Dear Lord, that's the loudest profanity I ever heard!

Well sir, you have certainly vanquished your foes. Are you happy? Not while there is a cheap, plentiful source of energy that is not supplied by me. But now I will deal with you. What are you talking about? Since the dawn of time, man has yearned to destroy the Sun. I will do the next best thing; block it out!
 * [Mr. Burns shows a miniature version of the sunblocker machine that darkens a scale model of Springfield.]

Sir, this is insane! Darkness is a boon for muggers; owls will bother us with incessant hooting; the town's sundial will be rendered useless. I want no part of this! Smithers! There has been a sharp decline in the quality and quantity of your toadying! You are to apologize right now!
 * [Waylon Smithers does an action unheard of; he resists Burns.]

Ulp! No! No Monty! Not until you come back from the brink of insanity! That does it Smithers! You are fired!

Yuck, what reeks? Smells like one of Van Houten's. It does not!

Willie, some time over the holiday weekend the beloved fourth grade gerbil, uh, Superdude, lost his life. I need you to air out the classroom and give Superdude a proper burial.
 * [Groundskeeper Willie looks inside the box, gets a whiff.]

Gah [cut to Willie digging a hole in the dirt] Eh, you're lucky you're getting a decent burial. Me own father got thrown in the bog.

What in the name of St. Episiocritus?

Miss Hoover? The floor is shaking. Ralph, remember the time you thought the... [a gusher explodes through the ceiling, taking Ralph with it]

Pete Porter pass it on. Pasadena promptly. Package for parcel processing, pronto. Perk up Prendergast, profoundly pressing package of power plant profit projections for Pete Porter in Pasadena! Priority? Precisely
 * [The package is passed along to several people before arriving at Homer's desk.]

[out of breath] Here's your package, Mr. Burns. [sputters] My name is the return address, you senseless dunderpate. Smithers, who is this nincompoop? [thinking] Oh, I've worked here for ten years and my boss doesn't even know my name! Well, that's gonna change right now! [out loud] My name is Homer J. Simp... ow! [Burns pushes a red button; a 1000g weight falls on Homer] ...son. [muttering] Hmm, sounded large when I ordered it. [sighs] I can't make hide nor hair of these metric booby traps.

My lord, such destruction. [sees Chalmers climbing up onto the roof] Superintendent Chalmers, er, how are you doing? Why is it when I heard the word "school" and the word "exploded" I immediately though of the word "Skinner"?! [Skinner makes awkward noises of protest] [holding a flask] Congratulations, gentlemen. Your custodian struck oil. You're standing on top of the richest elementary school in the state! [the two men look surprised and elated] We also found this. [hands Skinner a oil-coated gerbil] Thank you, Superdude. [hurls the gerbil away]

A non-profit organization with oil... I won't allow it! [camera pulls back to show Burns with his feet up on a tandem exercise bike and Smithers pedaling] An oil well doesn't belong in the hands of Betsy Bleedingheart and Maynard G. Muskievote! [panting] Sir, have you had [pant] enough... [pant] exercise for this morning? [getting up] No. Let's go another twenty miles. [groaning] Oh...
 * [Mr. Burns begins playing pinball in another room.]

Superintendent, we made the front page today! [holds up the newspaper, covering word "Awful" in headline] Uh, what's that say under your hand there? Hmm? Oh, it's an unrelated article. It's an unrelated article? [nodding] Mm hmm. Within the banner headline? Yes. [puts the newspaper down] Now, to redirect our conversation slightly, I have a few ideas on how to spend this oil money. Well, we could give each student a full college scholarship. [both burst out laughing] Oh, mercy. Seriously though...

Before we draw up the budget, I believe the students and faculty have a few suggestions. I want a crystal bucket for my slopwater and a brand new filthy blanket. [Skinner stamps "Approved" on his clipboard] The cafeteria staff are complaining about the mice in the kitchen. I want to hire a new staff. ["Approved"] I'd like to start a jazz program for the music department. We've got a really great instructor lined up. [opens door] [with Chalmers] Tito Puente!
 * [Tito plays his bongos.]

He's ready to give up the drudgery of the professional mambo circuit and settle into a nice teaching job. Man, it will be my pleasure. Lisa has told me all your students are as bright and dedicated to jazz as she is. [nervous laugh] Let's go now, Mr. Puente. ["Approved"] Chocolate microscopes? ["Approved"] You know those guitars, that are like, double guitars, you know? ["Approved"] More rubber stamps. ["Approved"]

Mr. Burns? Buh! It was naive of you think I would mistake this town's most prominent 104-year-old man for one of my elementary school students. I want that oil well. I've got a monopoly to maintain! I own the electric company, and the water works... plus the hotel on Baltic Avenue! That hotel's a dump and your monopoly's pathetic. This school's oil well is not for sale, particularly to a blackhearted scoundrel like yourself. I see. Then I'll just have to...attack you! [flails like a sissy at Principal Skinner] I must have that oil. [pants] Smithers... Smithers, help me subdue [pant] this beast. [walking in] Sorry sir, this was all I could find. ["fires" a stapler at Skinner] Take that, and that! [staples land uselessly on a briefcase] Please don't waste those.

Oh, I hate my job. I mean, what's the point when your boss doesn't even remember your name? I have an idea. What? What's your idea? When my father was first trying to catch my mother's eye, he sent her a box of candy with his photo in it. After that, she never forgot him. That's all well and good, but it's not really your idea, is it now, Marge?

That's it. Fumble about with your widgets and do-bobs. It will all be a monument to futility when my plan comes to fruition. [looks through binoculars at his own drilling site: "Burns Construction Co. Building a better tomorrow...for him"] Sir... [sighs] What I am about to say violates every sycophantic urge in my body, but I wish you would reconsider. This isn't a rival company your battling with: it's a school. People won't stand for it. Pish posh, it will be like taking candy from a baby. [sees a baby with some candy through the binoculars] Say that sounds like a larf. Let's try it right now. Er, um, there's some candy right here, Sir. [points to a box] Why don't we eat this instead of stealing? Oh, very well. [they open it and start eating; a photo is slowly uncovered] Now look, there's a photo in here. Ah yes, I believe that's little Maggie Simpson, the baby who found my precious teddy bear Bobo. Oh, and that Simpson mutt, my former guard dog. Oh and um, that's uh, Bart Simpson, he was my heir for a brief period, you know? Yes sir, I remember. [later, they both look ill] Anything left? Uh, only the sour quince log, sir. [the log covers Homer's face] Ew! Dispose of it. And, uh, send a thank you note to Marge, Bart, Lisa and Maggie Simpson.

Today, Springfield Elementary embarks on a new era: an era of unbridled spending where petrodollars will fuel our wildest educational fantasies. These young minds will enjoy every academic advantage [chuckles] till they enter Springfield High School, which has no oil well. [from audience] We got an air hockey table! Fine. Now to switch on our oil pump for the very first time, here's our top student, Lisa Simpson. [from audience] Nerd!
 * [Lisa throws the switch; a huge rumble is heard, but only a single drop of oil comes out]

There's no pressure. Someone else has tapped this well! Aye caramba!

Ah, soon that mighty apparatus will burst forth with its precious fluid. Almost sexual, isn't it, Smithers? Ehh.

I'm afraid we've got no legal recourse against Mr. Burns and his slant-drilling operation. The oil belongs to whoever pumped it first. What about all the expensive stuff we wanted? Can we still have it? No!
 * [Willie tears his shirt open and sobs.]

Blast it! In fact, to pay for the construction and operation and demolition of our new derrick, the school will have to eliminate all nonessential programs: music [Tito punches through his bongos] and maintenance. Argh, I'll kill that Mr. Burns! And, er, wound that Mr. Smithers. Out of my way! [he storms out]

I must say, Mr. Burns is being awfully inconsiderate—selfish, even.
 * [Bart and Lisa walk in.]

Burns needs some serious boostafazoo, right Dad?...Dad?...Homer! [pulls paper away to reveal Grampa]
 * [Grampa and kids all scream.]

Sorry, Grampa. It's just that for a second it looked like Dad had melted. Well, get used to it, 'cause I'm living here now. I ain't going back to the retirement home until they fish my bed out of that sinkhole.
 * [Marge walks to the table with two bowls]

Strained carrots for Maggie, strained carrots for Grampa. '[whining]'' I want a bib too!

[turning on the light] Who the devil are you? [Homer has painted "I am Homer Simpson" on the wall] [rushing Burns and shaking him] Homer Simpson! Burns: What? Homer Simpson! What are you talking about? Homer... You're not making sense, man! Shut up! Homer Simpson! I can't understand a word you're saying! My name is Homer Simpson! You're just babbling incoherently... My name is Homer -- [three guards rush in, restrain Homer, and drag him away] Oh, you're a dead man, Burns. Oh, you're dead! You're dead, Burns!


 * [Bart pulls out a cigar box and opens the top.]

[seeing a gun] Wow! That's my old Smith and Wesson. If you're gonna play with it, be careful, 'cause it's loaded. [walking in] Aah! Bart, put that down! Guns are very dangerous and I won't have them in this house. [takes it away] How can you have a house without a gun? What if a bear came through that door? I'm going to bury it in the yard where little hands can't get to it. [walks out] Geesh! You should have fired into the air. She would have run off!

People, take it easy. We're all upset about Mr. Burns' plan to, uh, block out our sun. It is time for decisive action. I have here a polite but firm letter to Mr. Burns' underlings, who with some cajoling, will pass it along to him or at least give him the gist of it. [whispering] Sir, a lot of people are stroking guns. Also it has been brought to my attention that a number of you are stroking guns. Therefore I will step aside and open up the floor.
 * [Smithers, unshaven and drunk, stands up.]

[crying] Mr. Burns was the closest thing I ever had to... a friend. But he fired me! And now I spend my days drinking cheap scotch and watching Comedy Central! Oh, dear God! I lost my bar! I lost his bar! He robbed the school of music! He robbed the school of financial security! He robbed the school of Tito! He can't remember my name! He's causing us all to yell! [Maggie sucks angrily] Look what he did to my best friend!; Camera pans to Milhouse eating cheezies] No, my dog! [SLH rolls in on his cart]

That's odd. Mr. Smithers left his jacket behind. Whoa, that's odd. Principal Skinner left his mother behind. [after puttiing Maggie in the carseat] That's odd. Where's Homer? And Bart? And Lisa? And Grampa?

Mr. Burns has been shot. Just a minute! This isn't Mr. Burns at all! It's a mask! [pulls at his face a little] Wait, it is Burns. Heh, his wrinkly skin, it... looks like a mask. I don't think we'll ever know who did this. Everyone in town's a suspect. Heh heh heh. Well, I couldn't possibly solve this mystery. Can... you? [points at camera]
 * [Camera pulls back to reveal that he's pointing at Wiggum.]

Yeah, I'll give it a shot, I mean, you know, it's my job, right?