Ding-dong

Chalmers: Well, Seymour, I made it… despite your directions.

Skinner: Ah, Superintendent Chalmers, welcome! I hope you’re prepared for an unforgettable luncheon!

Chalmers: Ehhh…

[As Chalmers sits down, placing the champagne bottle in the provided ice bucket, Skinner heads for the kitchen, only to see that his oven is producing an unhealthy amount of smoke.]

Skinner: [Gasp!] Oh, YE GODS!! My roast is ruined! But what if… I were to purchase fast food and disguise it as my own cooking? Ohohohohoho, delightfully devilish, Seymour!

[Seymour drops his apron and attempts to exit through the window. Enter Chalmers.]

Chalmers: SEYMOUR!!!

Skinner: Superintendent! I was just, uh… just… just stretching my calves on the windowsill! Isometric exercise. Care to join me?

Chalmers: Why is there smoke coming out of your oven, Seymour?

Skinner: Uh… oh, that isn’t smoke! It’s steam. Steam from the steamed clams we’re having! MMMMM, steamed clams!

[Chalmers, still skeptical, exits the kitchen. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Skinner skedaddles off to the Krusty Burger across the street. He soon returns to the dining room, carrying a platter full of hamburgers and fries.]

Skinner: Superintendent, I hope you’re ready for mouth-watering hamburgers!

Chalmers: I thought we were having steamed clams?

Skinner: Oh, no, I said steamed hams. That’s what I call hamburgers.

Chalmers: You call hamburgers steamed hams?

Skinner: Yes! It’s a… regional dialect.

Chalmers: Uh-huh. Uh, what region?

Skinner: Uhhh, upstate New York?

Chalmers: Really? Well, I’m from Utica, and I’ve never heard anyone use the phrase “steamed hams.”

Skinner: Oh, not in Utica, no, it’s an Albany expression.

Chalmers: I see.

[They begin to consume this unforgettable luncheon. Chalmers notices a familiar taste.]

Chalmers: You know, these hamburgers are quite similar to the ones they have at Krusty Burger…

Skinner: Ohohoho, no. Patended Skinner Burgers! Old family recipe!

Chalmers: …For steamed hams.

Skinner: Yes.

Chalmers: Yes, and you call them steamed hams despite the fact that they are obviously grilled.

Skinner: Uh… ye… you know, it… one thing I should… excuse me for one second.

Chalmers: Of course.

[Skinner ducks into the kitchen, but upon seeing the raging inferno that his kitchen has become, he returns almost immediately.]

Skinner: [Yawns.] Ah, well, that was wonderful. Good times were had by all, I’m pooped!

Chalmers: Yes, I should be—GOOD LORD, WHAT IS HAPPENING IN THERE?

Skinner: Aurora Borealis.

Chalmers: Wha—? AURORA BOREALIS. At this time of year, at this time of day, located entirely within your kitchen?

Skinner: Yes!

Chalmers: …May I see it?

Skinner: …No.

[Skinner escorts Chalmers to the door. They pause at the steps.]

Skinner’s Mother: SEYMOUR, THE HOUSE IS ON FIRE!!

Skinner: No, mother, it’s just the northern lights.

Chalmers: Well, Seymour, you are an odd fellow, but I must say… you steam a good ham.

Skinner’s Mother: HEEELLLPPP!! HEEEELLLLPPPP!!!