𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐄 || the simpsons

Chapter Nine: You're Mine

Moe smiled to himself as he watched the two men's reactions. Waylon looked terrified, just like he had on the street, and Monty just looked shocked. 

"Huh. Could've expected a different reaction," he said aloud. "Somethin' a little more dramatic. Then again, Burns, it has been a long time since we've seen each other. Remember? It was a couple years ago...how many, two? Three? I don't remember, and honestly, I don't care. The point is that you know who I am." 

His gaze shifted to the man who he had loved. "Ah. Heya, kid. Why am I not surprised to see you here? You really, really shouldn't run off like that without my permission. Who knows what kind of people are laying in wait to take you from me. But don't worry, because you'll always know, deep inside, that you will always belong to me."

Smithers's hand shook as he raised it to the side of his neck where Moe had made his mark on him, claiming his ownership.

"He's not yours, Szyslak." Monty said suddenly and defiantly. Moe turned to him, and laughed.

"Says who? If you'd have been there, earlier, you would know what I did, and, well...actions speak louder than words, you know!" Moe cackled loudly, filling the two with fear.

"I already know what you did, Szyslak." Monty said, the very thought of it filling him with anger.

Moe was slightly shocked. "Oh really?"

"He tried to kill himself because of you!" Monty shouted.

"ME?!" Moe shrieked in indignation. "Who said anything about me being the cause of this? It's YOU!"

"WHAT?!"

"He loved you, not me! If he hadn't loved you, none of this would have happened!"

A silence filled the room. Smithers's face burned up, despite his fear. Monty stiffened, looking shocked and confused. Moe suddenly realized the impact that his words had on him.

"Oh no...you didn't know...well then! It's true! It's all true! Waylon Smithers is in love with his boss, Monty Burns!" Moe announced, as if broadcasting to the entire world. "You were the third party in this whole story, and all of these things happened, for no other reason but the sole fact that Waylon loved you."

Moe sighed. "Listen, before you do anything, let me explain why I did what I did, and maybe you'll understand my side of the story.

"Do you know how hard it is to be a bartender? Checking in on the same old idiots, day in, day out, getting them beers, listen to them complain over insignificant things, while you're just standing there, wasting your entire life? I'd never cared about anyone, until one day I met someone who felt the same things that I felt, had the same problems I had. That person was you, Waylon.

"I made the horrible mistake of becoming attached. Even though I knew you never loved me, and told so many lies to me, I didn't want to quit. I had to hand it to you, of course, you had me fooled for a long time. That's why I did what I did. What I had to do. Maybe I'm still attached, maybe I'm not. That doesn't matter. What does matter, however, is that you messed up. That's why I brought this here shotgun with me."

Moe glanced down at his gun, smiling at it, before raising it, and pointing it at Waylon. He gasped in horror as the weapon was trained on him, and backed up quickly against the wall, raising his arms in surrender. 

"N-no..." he pleaded, his voice shaking in terror. "P-please..."

"Don't be afraid," Moe said quietly. "I mean, someone like you'd probably end up in Heaven, so why are you afraid? I'd honestly be doing you a favor. Monty said that you'd wanted to kill yourself. It honestly doesn't matter who does the deed, you end up dying anyways, so what's the big deal if I kill you?"

"No."

Moe stopped speaking and turned, lowering the shotgun. Waylon looked over as well, and they both saw Monty, standing there defiantly with a strange look in his eyes. They were filled with lingering shock, burning rage, and, for the first time in his life, Waylon saw fear.

"No? No?" Moe repeated. "What do you mean, 'no?'"

"No, Szyslak." Monty said. "Put the gun down, now. I won't allow you to hurt Waylon anymore. If you killed him, I swear, I would have nothing left to live for, other than to hunt you down and make your last living days hell. Because unlike you, I actually care about him! I would do anything for him, damn it, and I-"

He stopped speaking suddenly, then after a brief pause, continued. "So I suggest you put the gun down, Szyslak, and leave while you still can."

Upon hearing these words, Waylon's eyes filled with tears, overjoyed that Monty felt that way about him. Moe was stunned, and he pointed the gun to the floor, turning so that they faced each other.

"Huh," Moe said to himself. "How strange. You seem to have misunderstood what I've been saying.

"I never said that I was going to kill Waylon."

And with those words, Moe raised the gun, before either of them could do anything, and shot Monty.

A loud bang echoed throughout the house. Monty stumbled back, inadvertently hitting the button on the wall. He looked down at his chest, which was covered in blood, then back up at Moe and Waylon, his eyes full of terror, before sliding down the wall and collapsing on the floor.

"No...NO!" screamed Waylon as he attempted to run forward. Moe grabbed him by the arm and threw him backwards, onto the floor. He leapt on top of him, pinning him to the floor.

"It's over, kid!" Moe shouted, his voice taking on a psychotic tone. "He's dead! He's gone, gone forever, and there's nothing you can do! No one can change it! You're mine, kid! All mine!"

Moe began to laugh, an evil, haunting cackle that filled the entire house, causing Waylon to shake with terror beneath him. Suddenly, a strange noise filled the air, that stopped Moe's laughter. The sounds of barking and howling could be heard from outside, and they realized that  when Monty had hit the wall, the button he'd pressed had summoned his guard dogs...and that Moe had left the back door open when he'd entered.

Moe leapt off of Waylon, and scrambled to his feet, attempting to run to the door and shut it, but he was far too late. The hounds had gotten there before him. The one in front charged forward, jumping onto the intruder. Moe screamed in terror as the dogs attacked him, ripping his clothes and tearing into flesh.

Waylon sighed in relief, but knew that his problems weren't over yet. He quickly got to his feet and ran back to his boss.

"Monty?! MONTY?!" he shouted as he ran. "Oh God, no!"

He fell to his knees beside Monty. His face was pale white, and he'd almost passed out from blood loss. Pulling him closer, he pressed his hand to the wound, attempting to stop the flow of blood. Monty's ragged breathing was all he could hear.

"Hold on, sir, just please hold on," he whispered. "Everything's gonna be fine...everything's gonna be fine...everything's gonna be just fine..."

But he knelt there, his best friend dying in his arms, and he knew that he was lying.