A thing or two about my so called "job"

Homer: Are you in charge here?
Mr. Burns: Yes.
Smithers: I'll call security, sir.
Homer: If you want the kind of employee that takes abuse, I'm your man. You can treat me like dirt and I'll still kiss your butt and call it ice cream.
Mr. Burns: Hold the phone, Smithers. I like the cut of your jib.
Smithers: But sir, this man not only failed the aptitude test, he got trapped in a closet on his way out.
Mr. Burns: I don't care. I haven't been this impressed since a young bootlick named Waylon Smithers.
Homer: You mean?
Mr. Burns: Son, you're hired. What's your name?

Eu começo a ficar ché-ché de trabalhar naquele sítio. Até já uso expressões como "ché-ché"...