Smithers: [chuckles] Perfect. When I give the signal, you transfer the
call to Mr. Burns. After she tears into him I'll rush in and
save the day.
Homer: Got it.
[pushes Speaker] I'm transfering a call in to you, Mr. Burns.
Burns: [on intercom] No problemo!
Homer: [hesitating between the four buttons] Uh... Ooh... Uh...
[hearing the dial tone] Oh oh.
Burns: [from his office] Ahoy-hoy? Hoy?
Homer: [in falsetto] Hello Mr. Burns? This is your mother.
Smithers: [whispering] No...
Burns: Urg... Oh, hello mater. Um... sorry about pulling the plug on
you and all, uh... who could've known you'll pull through
and... live... for another 5 decades? Ohh, is my face red!
Smithers: [to Homer] Mrs. Burns is 122 years old, so try to sound more
dessicated. And she doesn't call her son "Mr. Burns"!
Homer: [cracking falsetto] Son, this is Mrs. Burns. I just called to
say I don't love you. You are a bad son Montel...
Burns: [behind him] So...
Burns: Impersonate my mother, will you? And you Smithers, you must
have put him up to it. I'm glad I fired you.
Homer: Ya really blew it this time, Smithers.
-- I didn't do it, "Homer the Smithers"