𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐄 || the simpsons

Chapter Four: Dead Where They Stand

It was a dreary morning. The sun's attempts to shine its glorious rays over Springfield were blocked by the thick, fluffy clouds, which seemed to be a darker shade then most preferred. A thin layer of fog coated the town, making it slightly harder for one to make out their surroundings. 

A thin breeze blew through the Nuclear Power Plant and around Monty Burns as he stepped out of the main building, gazing across the empty parking lot. So far, it was devoid of all of its cars, except for his, of course. But soon, it would fill to the maximum occupancy with vehicles, and would become a sea of glass and painted metal. Monty smiled to himself as he imagined the scene, and all of his subordinates that came with it. All of them working for him...but none so diligently as his right-hand man, Waylon Smithers.

About a few weeks ago, he had begun to notice that something was different about Smithers. He had come to work one day slightly more irritable than before, and whenever he was asked about it, he would brush it off and say it was a headache. It was as if he had been drinking the night before, and he was hungover, but this couldn't be possible. For as long as Monty had known him, Waylon had never touched alcohol. This had continued for a while, and then about a week ago, it had stopped, and he had become a lot more cheerful then he had been in a very long time...about a year. This all was extremely confusing to Monty, and he was going to find out why his second-in-command was acting this way. But it turned out that he didn't have to do too much prodding. 

The sound of a car driving reached Monty's ears, and he looked up. He saw, to his delight, that Smithers' car had arrived at the Plant. It drove through the parking lot before reaching its normal space, and stopping. The front door opened, and Smithers himself stepped out, but for the first time, the passenger door opened as well. A man that Monty had never seen before exited the vehicle and walked around the front. The two stood, leaning against the car, talking to each other for a moment. 

"You sure you can walk to the bar from here?" Smithers was asking.

"You kiddin'?" the man replied. "It ain't way too far from here, and besides, I'm pretty sure that I can count on you to save me if I can't."

Smithers sighed. "Fine...I guess I'll be seeing you tonight at the bar again?"

"Sure." the man said. "Where else would I be? I'm always there, and I probably always will be..."The man laughed to himself. "See ya later, kid."

He raised a hand in farewell. Smithers mirrored the gesture, before turning away and meeting his boss at the building's entrance. Monty's eyes narrowed as he watched the strange man.

"Smithers." he said.

"Sir?" he replied as he reached the doorway.

"Who is that man?" Monty asked, pointing at him. 

"That's Moe Szyslak, sir, one of the bartenders in Springfield." Smithers replied.

"Szyslak, eh?" Monty said, more to himself than to his second. "I don't really like the looks of that guy."

"Oh, don't worry about him, sir," Smithers reassured him. "He's a good man. In fact, he and I are...well...we're, um..."

Monty seemed to understand what Smithers was trying to say. For some reason, he felt slightly disappointed in him, and for some reason that he didn't know why, himself.

"I understand, Smithers..." he said. "Anyway, come along, we have some things to discuss."

As the two of them entered the building, the rest of the cars began to file their way into the parking lot. All the workers, after parking, exited their cars and shuffled their way into work. Moe was about to leave the Plant and head over to his bar, when a familiar face caught his eye.

"Lenny?" he called.

Lenny turned away from the mass of people and headed towards his bartender friend. "Heya, pal, what are you doing here?" he greeted him.

"Actually, I was just about to leave." Moe said. "I came here with Smithers."

Lenny chuckled to himself. "It seems like you care about him a lot."

Moe sighed wistfully. "Yeah. I really do."

"You know, you two would be really cute together." Lenny said. "I mean, if he and Burns weren't together, I'd ship you guys, but-"

"Wait, wait, wait." Moe interrupted. "What?"

"I said, you two would make a cute couple-"

"No. I meant before that. You said he and Burns were a 'thing'- who the hell's Burns?" Moe demanded.

"Oh, Mr. Burns?" Lenny laughed. "He's our boss! Richest man in town, owns this place, surely you've heard of him!"

Moe slowly began to recall the man Lenny was referring to. He had been the one who had drilled for oil right beside his bar a couple years ago, and the fumes had caused it to close down. When he had been shot, Moe was one of the prime suspects in the case.

"Yeah, I remember him..." Moe said slowly, realizing who Smithers had been talking about in the bar. "When you said that he and Waylon were a 'thing', you don't mean..."

"Now I don't think it's official," Lenny told him. "But look at the signs! I mean, it seems that they're closer than friends, they're always around each other, and I swear to you, I've always seen Smithers looking at him in this certain way, like he's all he wants."

"When was this? It must've been a while ago, right?" Moe asked.

"All the time! Even now, I can still see it. Everyone else says I'm insane, but I swear to you..."

Moe didn't hear any more. He was filled with several emotions; shock from hearing the news, jealousy of Burns, sadness because the one he truly loved hadn't moved on. But one emotion rose to the top. Rage, a burning rage that filled every crevice of his soul and caused his hands to shake. He was furious at Burns for stealing the love of his life, and at Smithers, who seemed to have never loved him in the first place.

I gotta do something, he thought. But what? Waylon doesn't love me, he still loves Burns.

Suddenly, an idea rose to the top of his mind. He gasped softly to himself as he realized what he was about to do. It was probably the worst thing that his horrible mind had ever thought of. I can't do that, he said to himself. But the idea continued to expand and weave its way through his brain, filling every cavity of his mind with its disturbing feeling.

I'm gonna do it, he thought. I have to. It is the only way to make Waylon mine, and mine alone.

But what if it fails? the other side of his mind questioned.

If it fails... he said to himself. Then the two of them...well...

They'd be dead where they stand.