Mr. Burns: Ironic, isn't it, Smithers? This anonymous clan of slack-jawed troglodytes has cost me the election. And yet, if I were to have them killed, I would be the one to go to jail. That's democracy for you. Smithers: You are noble and poetic in defeat, sir Mr. Burns: Smithers, there's a rocket in my pocket. Smithers: You don't have to tell me sir.