Chapter 8 – The Burns Identity

"Excuse me. Can I help you?" Mr. Burns voice asks. Waylon looks up to see his beloved boss standing over him. Burns is startled to see another Smithers groveling about the office. "DAH!" they both exclaim simultaneously and faint.

The next thing he knows, Smithers is staring into the face of the same doctor from the ER. The sharp smell of ammonia is still in his nose. He tries to sit up but grabs his head and moans.

"Take it easy now" intones the medic and eases Smithers back onto the office couch.

"Mr. Burns, what's going on here?" Waylon queries weakly.

"I was hoping you would tell ME," says Burns who has already fully recovered from his swoon and is standing beside another guard.

When the doctor arrived, he was surprised at seeing his elusive patient there. Recognizing the bandages and lack of a gunshot wound, he know this is the man from the ER. The physician finally finishes his examination of Smithers and piecing that together information he obtained at the hospital, announces that he has sustained a serious concussion, likely due to the numerous blows, a bruised knee and has two broken ribs, but there is no permanent damage done. He advises a week or two of rest, an ice bag or cold compress on his injuries as needed and aspirin to help with any discomfort. The guard and the doctor help Waylon sit up on the office couch as the doctor gives him a temporary cold pack, which he promptly applies to his head. Burns tells the doc that indeed there was a shooting in that very office yesterday and the victim was his aide, Waylon Smithers.

"B..B..But 'I'm' Waylon Smithers, " he stammers.

Burns comes over and sits beside him and saying "Well, 'SMITHERS', I have a few questions for you. First of all…WHO THE DEVIL ARE YOU?" Monty aggressively inquires.

Smithers is shocked at the abruptness of Burns, but answers hopefully, "Mr. Burns, aren't you well? You have to know me. I've worked for you the last 25 years. Your loyal employee…" he trails off waiting for a sign of recognition.

"I see." Burns ponders with that same nagging thought running just beyond clarity. Staring at Smithers, Burns suddenly has an epiphany. He reaches over and yanks Smithers tie. It doesn't come off in his hand.

"Please, Mr. Burns!" Waylon says, trying to laugh it off. "I didn't expect a twenty-one gun salute, but you don't have to strangle me, heh…heh." as he straightens the accessory.

"May I examine your spectacles?" Burns asks.

Smithers removes his glasses and gives them to the boss who studies them. Burns holds them up to the light, then looks through them. He goes to the desk and does the same thing to the other pair. He ponders a moment longer, then walks back to Smithers. "Just a few more questions. What is the name of my oldest attack dog?"

"Why…it's Crippler. You know that."

"Yes…and where did we find Bobo?"

"Well, that was…let me see…in baby Maggie Simpson's sandbox!" you should remember that, sir.

"Hmmmm…right again. One more – what's the name of my queen bee?"

Smithers glances around a moment, slightly embarrassed, then whispers in Monty's ear so the others present wouldn't hear.

A smile, or what passes for one, spreads across Burns' face. "Oh, my boy…it IS you!" he cries. Only my devoted Smithers would have known the correct answers to those questions. Jumping up, he exclaims, "It seems there was an imposter working here yesterday. A wolf in sheep's wool." The pointing at Smithers, "You're the real sheep!" He then relates the tale of the attempted burglary. After which Smithers recounts his kidnapping and ordeal.

"Oh, my poor old Smithers! Of course…take as much time as you need to recover. I have to have you back here fit enough to protect me from other assassins and thieves."

"But tell me Mr. Burns, why did you look at those eyeglasses so long?" Waylon asks.

"See," Burns indicates as he holds both pairs up to the light side by side. "This pair from the imposter doesn't refract the view through them. They're made of plain glass. The other pair do. They are prescription lenses - the ones belonging to…Waylon Smithers," he concludes, handing the second pair back to their owner. "Plus the fact that you would NEVER wear a…UGH…clip-on tie!" he adds giving another yank at Smithers tie which unravels as the ends hang down his shirt front.

"Amazing deduction, sir. You should have been a detective," gushes Smithers replacing the glasses on his face, wincing a little.

"Oh, it was simple enough." Burns responds, producing a large calabash pipe and starts puffing on it in Sherlock Holmes fashion. "And I'm sure the boys down at the "Yard" will use their forensic talents to discover who that phony Smithers is. Yes…it has been QUITE an interesting time."

Just at the moment, Chief Wiggum bursts in waving a handful of papers and panting. "Hey Mr. Burns, we found out that the man shot here yesterday wasn't Mr. Smithers after all! The fingerprints and blood type are all wrong. He's just a small-time hoodlum from Ogdenville by the name of Buddy Bedwood. The hospital said he will recover, but boy, will he have quite a lot of questions to answer when he does!" He stops short when he sees another Smithers sitting on the couch. He gapes.

"Quite!" concludes Inspector Monty.

The End