(The Simpsons make their entrance at the company picnic.)
Homer: Uh... Afternoon, Mr. Burns.
Mr. Burns: Ah, hello there, uh...uh...
(Homer leans over to Smithers.)
Homer: (whispering to Smithers) Simpson, Homer.
Smithers: Here you go, sir. (hands Mr. Burns a card with all the Simpsons' information and Mr. Burns reviews the information)
Mr. Burns: Ah! Oh, yes. Oh, and this must be your lovely wife... (looks at card) Marge. Oh, and look at, uh... (looks at card again) Little Lisa. Why, she's growing like a weed. And this must be, uh... (looks at card again) Brat.
Homer: Don't correct the man, Brat. Oh, boss. Look what we brought... (holds up a gelatin dessert) Gelatin desserts!
Mr. Burns: Oh, for the love of Peter. That's all everybody brought. Some damn fool went around telling everyone I love that slimy goop. Well, toss it in the pile over there. (points to a large pile of gelatin desserts) And...make yourselves at home.
(The family starts walking past Mr. Burns and Smithers and into the picnic.)
Bart: You hear that, dad? You can lie around in your underwear and scratch yourself.
Homer: (turning around to hurt Bart) Now, you listen to me...
Mr. Burns: Trouble, Simpson?
Homer: No! (chuckles nervously) Just congratulating the son on a fine joke about his old man.