Barney: These fumes aren't as fun as beer. Sure, I'm all dizzy and nauseous,

Barney: These fumes aren't as fun as beer. Sure, I'm all dizzy and
nauseous, but where's the inflated sense of self-esteem?
[a man at the end of the bar slumps to the floor]
Moe: Hey, if you guys are getting loaded of them fumes I'm gonna have
to charge you.
[two scientists in ecosuits walk in]
Man: Man alive! There are, uh, men alive in here.
Woman: [holding a beeping detector] I'm detecting over twenty different
toxins in the air.
[Barney belches; the beeping increases in speed]
Man: All right, everybody out! As long as Burns is pumping oil, this
bar is closed!
Moe: Damned Burns. Let me just get one thing.
[pulls shotgun from behind the bar]
Barney: Me too!
[pulls gun from his side] Ah: now _there's_ the inflated sense
of self-esteem!
-- Barney, NRA card-carrier,
"Who Shot Mr. Burns? Part One"