[Charlie is explaining to Mr., Burns about the gas leak]
Well, sir, I won't bore you with the details of our miraculous escape, but we desperately need a real emergency exit.
Why, that's a fabulous idea. Anything else you'd like? How about real lead in the radiation shields? Urinal cakes, maybe? [hands Smithers a notebook] Smithers, throw this at him. [Smithers throws the book at Charlie. Mr. Burns right hand reaches under his desk and presses a button. A tube covers Charlie and sucks him upwards] Smithers, where does that tube go?
I'm not sure, sir; it was here when we moved in.
[Charlie then finds himself in an unnamed foreign country inhabited by cackling men wearing turbans. He is forced to dance to sitar music.]
Dance! Dance! Dance! Dance! [Charlie does so. The men start ululating maniacally]
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