My story begins back in nineteen-dickity-two. We had to say ‘dickity’ cause the kaiser had stolen our word ‘twenty’. I chased that rascal to get it back, but gave up after dickity-six miles.— Grampa
Selma: Mr. Burns has been shot.
Wiggum: Just a minute! This isn't Mr. Burns at all! It's a mask! Wait, it is Burns. Heh, his wrinkly skin, it...looks like a mask.
Marge: I don't think we'll ever know who did this. Everyone in town's a suspect.
Hibbert: Heh heh heh. Well, I couldn't possibly solve this mystery. Can... you? (points at the 'camera', which then pans out)
Wiggum: Yeah, I'll give it a shot, I mean, you know, it's my job, right?
Skinners: Infact to pay for the construction, the operation and the demolition of the oil derick we have eliminate all non essential programs... music--
Tito Puente: What!?
Skinners: --and maintenence.
Groundskeeper Willie: Aargh! I'll kill that Mr. Burns!! And... wound that Mr. Smithers!