Moe: Yeah, that's showing him, Barney! Heh, Pitt the Elder.
Barney: Lord Palmerston!!!
(Barney knocks Moe out too)
Mr. Burns: No, Smithers, I've decided to bring in a few ringers. Professional baseballers. We'll give them token jobs at the plant and have them play on our softball team. Honus Wagner, Cap Anson, Mordecai "3-Finger" Brown...
Smithers: I'm afraid all those players have retired and... passed on. In fact, your right fielder has been dead for 130 years.
Mr. Burns: Damnation! Alright, find me some good players. LIVING players! Scour the professional ranks. The American League, the National League, the Negro League!
(Don Mattingly returns to the field wearing a mohawk hairdo after Mr. Burns asked him to shave off his sideburns, which never existed in the first place.)
Mr. Burns: Mattingly! I thought I told you to trim those sideburns! GO HOME!!! YOU'RE OFF THE TEAM, FOR GOOD!!!
Don Mattingly: Fine! (to himself) I still like him better than Steinbrenner.
Mr. Burns: What about Clemens?|
Smithers: Sir, he's in no condition to play.
(Camera pans out to reveal he's clucking like a chicken)
Mr. Burns: That damn hypnotist! (storming over to him) YOU! Look what you've done! My starting pitcher thinks he's a chicken! Make no mistake, I'm going to report this to the American Hypnotical Association!
Hypnotist: (using his pendulum on Burns) But I did a job... A good job...
Mr. Burns: Oh well. I guess it's not your fault. You did a good job.