Homer: [out of breath] Here's your package, Mr. Burns.

Homer: [out of breath] Here's your package, Mr. Burns.
Burns: [sputters] My name is the return address, you senseless
dunderpate. Smithers, who is this nincompoop?
Homer: [thinking] Oh, I've worked here for ten years and my boss doesn't
even know my name! Well, that's gonna change right now! [out
loud] My name is Homer J. Simp -- ow!
[Burns pushes a red button; a 1000g weight falls on Homer]
-- son.
Burns: [muttering] Hmm, sounded large when I ordered it. [sighs] I
can't make hide nor hair of these metric booby traps.
-- Talk to the Stonecutters, then,
"Who Shot Mr. Burns? Part One"