The Simpsons
Sundays 8:00 PM on FOXWaylon Smithers Quotes
Smithers: What's wrong sir, did I get some in your eye? The Shampoo specifically said, "No more tears!"
Mr. Burns: Ah, lovely promise but, one beyond the powers of a mere shampoo.
(Homer prepares to take out a loan from Mr. Burns.)
Mr. Burns: Just sign this form and the money will be yours. (Laughs evilly) Sorry, I was just um...erm...thinking of something funny Smithers did today.
Smithers: I didn't do anything funny today.
Mr. Burns: Shut up!
Mr. Burns: Little do they realize their days of suckling at my teat are numbered.
Smithers: Oh, in the meantime, sir, may I suggest a random firing? Just to throw the fear of God into them?
Smithers: (Over P.A.) Attention Homer Simpson. Attention Homer Simpson.
(Homer is still dozing at his post)
Smithers: Wake up, Homer! (Homer awakens)
Smithers: You're fired.
Homer: For what?
Smithers: For sleeping on the job.
Homer: How'd you know I was sleeping?
Smithers: We've been watching you on the surveillance camera.
Homer: Camera? (Spots the camera) D'oh!
Smithers: It's the man in the bag sir; I think he's still alive!
(Mr. Burns beats the bag with a shovel.)
Mr. Burns: Bad corpse, bad corpse! Stop scaring Smithers! Satisfied?
Smithers: Thank you, sir.
Mr. Burns: Will you quit your complaining!
Smithers: Sir, You know what this means? He is alive.
Mr. Burns: Oh, you're right Smithers; I guess I owe you a Coke.
Mr. Burns: Oh, Smithers, I was wrong to play God. Life is precious, not a thing to be toyed with. Now take out that brain and flush it down the toilet!
Smithers: Sir, his family might appreciate it if you returned the brain to his body.
Mr. Burns: Oh, come on, it's 11:45!
Smithers: Sir, where's my radiation suit?
Mr. Burns: How the hell should I know? (as he covers the "Smithers" label on the suit he's wearing)
Computer Voice: 90 seconds to core meltdown.
Smithers: Sir there may never be a better time to say...I love you, sir.
Mr. Burns: Well, hot dawg. Thank you for making my last moments on earth socially awkward.
Mr. Burns: Well, Smithers, I guess there is nothing left but to kiss my sorry butt goodbye.
Smithers: May I, sir?
Mr. Burns: So, what did you do this weekend, Smithers?
Smithers: Well, I caught up on my laundry, wrote a letter to my mother, oh, here a kicker, and I took Hercules out to be clipped.
Mr. Burns: Who the devil is Hercules?
Smithers: Oh, he's my Yorkshire terrier, sir. He's kind of tiny, so you know, it's a joke. Here's a picture of Herky. (shows a wallet sized photo of Hercules)
Mr. Burns: Ugh. Well, Smithers, don't you know how to paint the town red!
Burns: Who is that bookworm, Smithers?
Smithers: Homer Simpson, sir.
Burns: Simpson, eh? How very strange. His job description clearly specifies an illiterate!
