Burns: [groaning] Ohh! I need some more ether. I can still feel the
movement of the emory board.
Smithers: [checks bottle] We're fresh out, Sir. I'll get some more.
Burns: Leave the rag.
[sniffs it] Mmm...
[Smithers walks out; Homer sneaks in]
Homer: Uh...excuse me, Mr. Burns?
Burns: [gasps] Poppin' Fresh! You glutinous little doughboy.
[Homer morphs into Poppin' Fresh in Burns' mind]
[chuckles] There's something I've wanted to do to you for
years!
[starts poking his stomach; Homer laughs]
Homer: [getting his eyes poked at] Ow! Heh, Mr. Burns? I, er, was
wondering if you'd like to sponsor my bowling team...for...
$500.
Burns: Ho ho, why, certainly, Poppin' Fresh! I owe my robust
physique to your tubes of triple-bleached goo.
Homer: Woo hoo! [runs out] Hey, everybody: if you want to ask Burns
for a favor, now's the time! He's doped up, or dying, or
something.
Hans: [running in] Uh, excuse me: I'd like to request $17 for a
push-broom rebristling. [shows broom with no bristles on it]
Burns: Why, it's that delightful TV leprechaun. I'm going to get
your Lucky Charms. [starts a drill]
Hans: Oh, no: my brains.
-- They're magically...dendrite-icious?, "Team Homer"