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

It's impossible for me to fire a pistol. If you'll check me medical records, you'll see I have a cripplin' arthritis in me index fingerrrs. Look at 'em! [holds them up] I got it from  in 1977. Aw, yeah. That was a pretty addictive video game. [surprised] Video game?

Dozens of people are gunned down each day in Springfield, but until now none of them was important. I'm Kent Brockman. [scene shows Burns being loaded into an ambulance] At 3:00 p.m. Friday, local autocrat C. Montgomery Burns was shot following a tense confrontation at town hall. [still shots of Burns and town hall] Burns was rushed to a nearby hospital where he was pronounced dead. [scene shows Marvin Monroe Memorial Hospital] He was then transferred to a better hospital where doctors upgraded his condition to "alive". [scene shows Springfield General Hospital] Now let's talk to Police Chief Wiggum. [eating an ice cream] Oh. Oh, hiya, Kent. Ahem. Uh, right now, we are questioning two witnesses who were in the vicinity at the time.
 * [Scene shows Lou holding a photo of Smithers at someone.]

Did you see this guy? Was he anywhere near the parking lot when Burns got shot?
 * [Camera shows Maggie and SLH being questioned.]

No, it's no use. They ain't talking.

Everyone in Springfield had a reason to shoot Mr. Burns, even us. [everyone groans in agreement] Bart, he broke your dog's legs. Grampa, he destroyed your home. And Dad—well, you kind of went berserk when he couldn't remember your name. Aren't we forgetting someone... Sister Suspect? [chuckling sheepishly] I was just getting to me. Because of Mr. Burns, they canceled my jazz program, and my friend Tito Puente got fired... but I could never shoot someone. Could so. Could not. Could so. Could not. Could so! Could not! [interrupting] Kids, kids, kids. As far as Daddy's concerned, you're both potential murderers. The police already have a suspect: it's Mr. Smithers.
 * [Everyone talks about how plausible that is.]

Yeah, Smingers did it. Case closed. Now where's my hat? I'm going to the outhouse. [leaves] We don't have an outhouse. [gasps] My toolshed! Oh, Dad...

Hey, Homer: us hotheads here is going to go tear down Burns' sun-blocking machine. You want to come with? Sure. I've had it up to here with these damn rickets! [waddles toward tow truck]

Mmm... this guilt is driving me mad! I've got to tell someone. [walks into a church and goes to the confession booth] Father, I'm not a Catholic, but... well, I tried to march in the St. Patrick's Day parade. But anyway, I've got a... rather large sin to confess. [sniffles] I'm the one who... shot Mr. Burns! [pokes head out, cocks gun] That's all I needed to hear! Boy, this thing works great.

The man became consumed by greed. He'd steal from anyone!
 * [Flashback to first part.]

This isn't a rival company you're battling with, it's a school. People won't stand for it. Pish posh. It will be like taking candy from a baby! Say, that sounds like a larf.
 * [Back to the current time.]

And when he tried to steal our sunlight, he crossed that line between everyday villainy and cartoonish super-villainy.

Uh, Dave Shutton, Springfield Daily Shopper. Who are you? Where are you going? Oh, do your research, Shutton! Uh, Kent Brockman, Channel Six News. How does it feel to be accused of the attempted murder of your boss and mentor? Kent, I... I feel about as low as Madonna when she found out she missed Tailhook. Oh. I'm going to say "Ouch" for Madonna! [watching on TV] Hey! That's my Madonna gag. That guy stole my gag! And you stole it from last Friday's episode of "Pardon My Zinger". Stole, made up, what's the difference? Mr. Smithers must have seen that program too! He never misses it. [puffs pipe] Hmm... at the town meeting, he mentioned that he watched Comedy Central. I made sure to note that, as it seemed quite unusual. Ye Gods! To the police station, Krusty.

I am Melvin van Horne. And this is my associate, Herschel Krustofsky. Hey hey. Officers: you have arrested an innocent man. Really? Mr. Burns was shot Friday at 3 p.m., the very time that Smithers was at home watching "Pardon My Zinger". So you see, he couldn't have done it. [gasps] Yes, you're right! I remember now, I watched that entire show. In fact
 * [Flash to shot of Smithers's feet weaving down sidewalk.]

[voice-over] I left the town meeting early so I could get home in time. [in a flashback] [slurred] Ohh, I've got to run or I'll miss the opening rank-out. [a shadow approaches in front] Get of my way, please. Slow down. The sidewalk's for regular walking, not for fancy walking. Get out of my way, I'm in a hurry. You simmer down, I'll let you go. [Smithers pulls a gun, shoots]
 * [Back to the current time.]

So... instead of wounding an evil old man, I may have killed an innocent old man. That's much worse! About 50,000 volts worse, if you know what I mean! [makes electrocuting sound effects]

You shot who in the what, now?

And with the prime suspect cleared and found completely innocent, we must now ask ourselves: who could possibly be as bloodthirsty as Waylon Smithers? I guess it's never the most likely suspect. Actually, Mom, in 95% of cases, it is. The rest of the time, it's usually some deranged lunatic who did it for no reason.
 * [Everyone looks at Homer.]

Hey! I had a damn good reason. He could never remember my name.
 * [Flashback to part one.]

Who the devil are you? [loses it, rushes Burns] Homer Simpson! You're just babbling incoherently. My name is Homer Simpson...
 * [Back to the current time.]

Well I don't think anyone in this family is capable of attempted murder. Eh... you never know what you're capable of. I never thought I could shoot down a German plane, but last year I proved myself wrong. Nancy Drew says that all you need to solve a mystery is an inquisitive temperament and two good friends. And I've got an inquisitive temperament. Maybe I could help solve this. Mmmmm... I think you're a little young to be investigating an attempted murder. Why don't you try to solve the mystery of who put that mud in the freezer? Who wants chocolate ice cream? Me, me, me!

OK, boys, we've got a clue: the bullet they took out of Burns. Now, let's discuss the, um... [picks up an Agatha Christie book] mo-tive. Mr. Burns is the richest man in town. Maybe it's about money. That's some good thinkin', Lou. Aw, thanks, Chief. [below desk level] Hey! I said that. My name is Lisa Simpson and I made a chart of all the suspects in the Burns case. Look! [holds up a card] Mr. Burns hurt all these people financially. Nightclub owner Moe Szyslak: his bar was closed because of Burns' negligence. Liquor connoisseur Barney Gumbel: when Moe's closed, Barney lost his only means of support—sucking coins out of the Love Tester machine. Dedicated educator Principal Seymour Skinner: his school lost millions when Burns pirated its oil well. And grounds tender Groundskeeper Willy: he lost his job and his dream of owning a fine crystal slop bucket. Hey, what about that jazz teacher that got laid off? You know, uh, Mr. Samba? Senor Mambo? What was it? Tito Puente? Yeah. Well, he did vow revenge, heh heh. [pause] But I can't see him doing something illegal. He's in show business, he's a celebrity... Let's roll, boys.

Revenge? Of course. But why wound his body with bullets when I could set his soul afire with a slanderous mambo? Listen, if you will, to my revenge: uno, dos, tres!
 * [Band starts playing salsa music.]

Wounds won't last long, but an insulting song. Burns will always carry with him. [shot of Wiggum, Eddie, and Lou bobbing to the beat] So I'll settle my score on the salsa floor. With this vengeful Latin rhythm. [shots of chef with tray of clams opening their mouths in rhythm and man at condom machine buying many condoms] Burns! [trumpet riff] Con un corazon de perro. Senor Burns! [trumpet riff] El diablo con dinero. [mambo riff] It may not surprise you, but all of us despise you. Please die, and fry in hell. You rotten rich old wretch. Adios viejo! [trumpet riff; end of song] [clapping] Yeah! OK, OK, I believe you're innocent. Gee, I hope all our suspects are this much fun.

I did go to the town meeting with the intention of ambushing Mr. Burns. When it adjourned, I rushed to the lavatory to apply my camouflage makeup. --
 * [Flashback to Skinner in washroom.]

[with eyeshadow and lipstick on] Blast! I took Mother's makeup kit by mistake. [walking in] Ooh, er, excuse me, ma'am. [gasps] Superintendent Chalmers! [slowly] Oh my God... [a shot sounds outside]
 * [Back to the current time.]

So Superintendent Chalmers can vouch for your whereabouts? Oh, yes. But anything else he tells you is a filthy lie.

Did you hold a grudge against Mr. Burns? No!
 * [The lie detector buzzes, indicating a lie.]

Okay, maybe I did, but I didn't shoot him!
 * [The lie detector dings, indicating the truth.]

Checks out. Okay, sir, you're free to go. Good, 'cause I've got a hot date tonight! [buzz] Odd date. [buzz] Dinner with friends. [buzz] Dinner alone. [buzz] Watching TV alone. [buzz] Alright! I'm just going to sit at home and ogle the ladies in the Victoria's Secret catalog! [buzz] Sears catalog. [ding] Now, would you unhook this already, please?! I don't deserve this kind of shabby treatment! [buzz]

Grampa, I found your cigar box dug up in the backyard, but the gun wasn't in there. Have you seen it? You accuse me of everything around here! "Who put slippers in the dishwasher?" "Who threw a cane at the TV?" "Who fell into the china hutch?" I was just asking if you've seen it. There's no need for you to be a prickly pear. [walks away] [holds up gun and strokes it] Oh, your the bee's knees, baby. I missed you bad.

[slowly, in Chief Wiggum's dream] Chief… Wiggum… Don't… Eat… The clues…
 * [Chief Wiggum finds a flaming card, while Lisa holds up another flaming card.]

[slowly] This suit burns better… Look! What? [slowly, holding the card closer] Better… Look! Burns' suit… I'm not following you. [slowly] Burns' suit! Burns' suit! Huh? [normal voice] Look at Burns' suit! Geesh!
 * [Eddie wakes Chief Wiggum up from his dream.]

Hey, Chief. I have an idea. Why don't we check out that suit Burns was wearing when he was shot? Did you have the same dream with backwards-talking dream with the flaming cards? [hastily] I'll drive.

Ooh, nice eyelash. Yours? No. We need to find out who it belonged to. We want a DNA test. Ooh, ooh, ee, ooh, ooh, that takes, uh, 8 to 10 weeks. [sighs, hands him a carton of cigarettes] Did I say weeks? 'Cause I meant seconds. [runs over to another machine, grabs a card from it; puts it in a computer] What do you got, the whole town's DNA on file? Y'uh huh. If you've ever handled a penny, the government's got your DNA. Why do you think they keep 'em in circulation?

[wakes up] Homer Simpson! Bingo! The gunman has a name-o!


 * [The police barge into the Simpson home.]

Hey! Chief Wiggum! What's going on? What are you doing? Sorry, kid. We found Simpson DNA on Mr. Burns' suit, and your father was identified by the old man himself.
 * [The Simpsons all gasp.]

[scoffing] DNA, positive ID. Those won't hold up in any court. Run, Dad!
 * [Bart pushes Homer towards the door.]

[holds up a gun] Hey, Chief! Look what I found underneath Homer Simpson's car seat.
 * [Lou and Eddie check the gun for fingerprints.]

I swear! I've never seen that gun before! Oh, really? Then why are your fingerprints on it, sir?
 * [Eddie holds up Homer's glass, which has the same fingerprints as the gun.]

Aaah! [pulls out a bullet from the gun.] This bullet matches the one we took out of Burns! Homer Simpson, you're under arrest for attempted murder.
 * [Chief Wiggum handcuffs Homer.]

D'oh! Yeah, that's what they all say. They all say, "D'oh."

We need two cups of coffee, and two orders of bite-sized breakfast pancakes. With extra dipping sauce. Please pull up to the service window, please. [tries] The wagon's too tall! Oh, I don't want to have to get out. Ehh, I'll just drive up on the curb. [does so, leans out window to grab order; van starts tipping] Almost got it... Drop the food, chief! [van falls over; back door opens and Homer stands up] [Jasper pulls up in an old car] [honks] Damn fools! Drive-thru's not for a-parking. [floors it, then skids to halt, pushing the van out forward] [Homer hobbles in front of it, trying to avoid it] Diane? I'm going to take my break now.

Hi Everybody! Ho... mer... Simp... son! Okay... That was a little strange... Umm... Tell me, how are you feeling today? Homer... Simpson, Homer... D'oh... Simpson. Hmm... That seems to be all you can say. When you were in that coma, did you feel your brain getting damaged?

The police have such a strong case against Homer! Mr. Burns said he did it, they found his DNA on Mr. Burns' suit. They have Simpson DNA; it could have come from any of us! Well, except you, since you're a Bouvier. No! No, no. When I took your father's name I took everything that came with it, including DNA! Um... [rolls her eyes] Okay, Mom. But like I'm saying, the evidence isn't as concrete as it seems. Like those fingerprints; they could have gotten on the gun some other way.
 * [Flashback to Lisa in the car with Homer.]

Are you sure you don't want me to hold one of your ice cream cones? [driving with his knees] Pfft. Yeah, right. You chose fruit, you live with fruit. [one scoop falls out of the cone] D'oh! [reaches under seat] [touches Pipin Hot Bread 8-track] No... [touches pineapple air freshener] No... [touches gun] No... [touches lollipop] Ew! Why is this on the floor [puts it in his pocket]
 * [Back to current time.]

And we don't even know whose gun that was! Maybe somebody planted it there to frame Dad. No, we can't start thinking that way about our own family members. Suspicion could tear us apart.

Here is a photo of the fugitive from our files. [holds up picture of Homer in a "Haig in '88" T-shirt] And now, Waylon Smithers, uh, who's been a real good sport about that wrongful arrest thing—whew! Heh--- has a, er, statement that he would like to make. Waylon? Thank you. As Montgomery Burns' closest friend, I am certain there's nothing he would want more than swift, brutal revenge against Homer Simpson. Therefore I am offering a $50,000 reward for his capture—dead or alive. [everyone bustles off] Oh, wow. Me first! Me first!

Homer Simpson? So, you finally learned my name, eh? [shaking head] Homer Simpson. I've got no time for your demented parlor games. You won't be telling anyone else that Homer Simpson shot you. [reaches to strangle Burns]

Be careful when we capture him! We cannot claim the reward unless we have 51% of the carcass.

Stop! Don't shoot my Dad. He's innocent. He wouldn't hurt a fly! [they open the door] [being strangled and shaken] Ho-mer Simp-son! Ho-mer Simp-son! Stop telling them it was me! I'll kill you for saying it was me. [grunting] What is the meaning of this? Smithers, who is this beast that's shaking me? [loses it] D'ohhh! [grabs a gun, cocks it as Burns' head] Say it, Burns say I never shot you! Before. Shot? [chuckles] By you? I'm afraid not, my primitive friend. Your kind has neither the cranial capacity nor the opposable digits to operate a firearm. The one who shot me was--[looks around, sees his assailant] Aah! Aah! Aah! M-Maggie Simpson!

Smithers had thwarted my earlier attempt to take candy from a baby, but with him out of the picture, I was free to wallow in my own crapulence.

[telling what happened after he got shot] Stricken, I lurched forth in search of aid, but finding only slack-jawed gawkers, I immediately gave up hope, and I collapsed onto the sundial. Then, with your last ounce of strength, you pointed to W and S. Or, from your point of view, M and S: Maggie Simpson. What? No! With my last ounce of strength, I sucked out my gold fillings and swallowed them. Those paramedics have such sticky fingers. Well, I'm just glad you're back to full health and we can all get back to our everyday lives. And if Maggie could talk, I'm sure she'd apologize… I'm afraid that's insufficient! [to Chief Wiggum] Officer, arrest the baby! [chuckles] Yeah, right, pops! No jury in the world's ever going to convict a baby. [thinks to himself] Maybe Texas… Besides, she didn't mean it; it was an accident.
 * [Maggie looks around in the room and sucks on her pacifier, which sound like muffled gunshots.]