Jacob Rothschild (adjusting his tie):
“I must protest! I am nothing like that… cartoonish plutocrat Mr. Burns. For one, my fortune is merely a modest billion—hardly enough to buy the moon or block out the sun. And I certainly don’t keep hounds.”
(Pause. He raises a pale hand with a glint of mischief.)
“…Smithers?”
Smithers (from behind a velvet curtain):
“Yes, sir?”
Jacob Rothschild (grinning slightly):
“Release the hounds… but only on Ned Flanders. That goody-two-shoes must be hiding something in that mustache.”
(Cut to Flanders watering his lawn)
“Okily dokily—AAAAHHH! DOGGILY DANGEROUS!”
(Cue dramatic orchestral music and a scrolling ticker that reads):
“BREAKING: British Billionaire Denies Being Springfield Villain. Also, Unleashes Hounds.”