Burns: Smithers, My Plan Worked Perfectly. Bart Simpson Will Live Here As My Son, And I Will Mold Him In My Own Graven Image.

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Burns: Smithers, my plan worked perfectly. Bart Simpson will live here
as my son, and I will mold him in my own graven image. Who knows
-- I may even grow to...love him.
[Bart runs up]
Bartholomew! [Bart hugs his legs]
Smithers, get it off me!
-- Love, maybe, but no touching, "Burns' Heir"

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