Survival of a Single Mom
Author's notes: This is an AU story, and the cartoon series isn't canon but expect some nods. Also, in this reality Marge was never married to Homer, and no Bart and Marge. She only had Lisa with another man. So the story might be weird.
Springfield, NT
It's like any other American town. It's the home of a single mother who recently divorced, and has gotten complete custody of her 6-year-old daughter and only child.
It wasn't a very pleasant situation. Her no good excuse of a husband won the house and everything else with it. Leaving them nothing but a pair of luggage.
Marge and Lisa woke up to find themselves sitting at a bus stop bench. That husband of hers apparently just took them out of the house without even packing up their belongings. They signed the papers to make the divorce official only yesterday, it seems he's very eager to get them out. He must have brought them here while they were asleep, without getting into trouble.
As Marge gets up, she looked at her reflection on an advertisement next to them. She was shocked to see she's wearing her strapless green dress, red pearls, red high-heels, red pearl earrings, her blue hair in a tall beehive do like she once had in her prom, and badly applied makeup - eyeliner, lipstick, and a well-placed beauty mark. She tried pulling it out, but it's really on there as it hurts.
"Aah! My lord, I look like a Lebanese prostitute." She said to herself. She also noticed her voice was suddenly a little grovel. She has a more feminine sounding voice, but she's been doing a lot of yelling while she and her ex argued a lot. She hopes it'll clear up soon.
She turned to Lisa and find she's wearing a short, strapless red dress with a zigzag hem and matching red Mary-Janes. Marge finds it a little too revealing for a 6-year-old. Her skirt might be too short for her, she can almost see her panties while she's sitting down. Marge is furious at her ex for dressing her up that way.
Marge got her purse, but there's barely enough money and all her cards are gone. So she'll have to get a job. But she still got the gift for Lisa, though now isn't a good time to give it to her.
"Mommy, where are we?" Lisa asked, holding her mom's hand.
"Right now sweetie, we're going to find a place to stay." Marge assured her.
The bus arrives, Marge takes Lisa's hand and grabs her luggage with her other hand, while Lisa grabs hers. Marge can't help but feel self-conscious as they walk pass the passengers gawking at them. She and Lisa take their seats on the back of the bus. Marge crosses her arms during the ride. Marge glance at Lisa kicking her feet up. She's worried about being exposed. She saw two older boys sitting on front.
They eventually come to a stop at the Sleep Easy Motel. Marge decided they need some place to stay at least for the night.
"Let's go, Lisa."
"Okay, mommy."
Once again Marge feels everyone's eyes on them as they got off the bus.
After they got off the bus, it immediately closes its door and dash off. Marge realize they're now at the bad part of Springfield. She noticed a few of the letters burn out of the motel sign, titling itself "Sleazy Motel". And if that's not bad enough, she noticed a quartet of prostitutes standing by the entrance of the office. Nervous, she firmly gripped Lisa's hand and just walk straight to the door.
"Lookin' for a good time, little girl?" asked the platinum blonde lady in the green tank top and short skirt, and wearing fishnets.
"You mean having fun? Yes I am!" Lisa said eagerly.
"No, you're not!" Marge exclaimed as she pulls Lisa inside. "Wait here."
Marge went back outside and close the door behind her.
"She's really not." She said to the hookers, "She's just a little girl and I appreciate it if you don't talk to her like that."
The hookers glare at her for a moment until the one in green speaks again.
"Excuse me?! Who are you to tell us what to do?" She approached Marge.
"Look I'm trying to be civil here. I know you women had hard lives and I sympathize, but I don't want my daughter exposed to your lifestyles."
"If your daughter wants to be around us then that's her own damn business!" The black girl in the pink tank top and thigh-high boots said walking from behind Marge.
"Watch your mouth, young lady! I will not have you cursing around my daughter!"
"We can fucking curse when we fucking want, you bitch!" The blonde hooker in a red dress, white pearls and black stockings screamed, and pushed Marge, who's now furious. She clenches her fists. She's unaware that she's already drawing attention to herself.
"You four are the most thoughtless, insensitive , conceited, self-absorbed, trashy group of women I have ever met! You all should be ashamed of yourselves! Selling yourselves for money! Dolling yourself up like that! I would never!"
The hookers suddenly laughed their heads off. Marge feels self-conscious as she noticed the onlooking crowd from her peripheral vision.
"You're one to talk, sugar!" The hooker with purplish hair and a black dress said.
"Look at you in that dress and bizarre hairdo. What are you from the 50s?" The black girl joked.
"What I wear is none of your damn business!" Marge said.
"Oh, and it's you're business to tell us what to do?" the girl in green said.
"Well, someone has to! I'm sure you break your mothers' hearts over your life choices!"
"Fuck our mothers! They never let us do what we want!" the girl in green said.
"Yeah, always telling us how to dress! We should dress sexy if we want!" the black girl said.
"It's our rights as women!" the blonde girl, "though the way you dress should be a crime!"
"And it looks like your daughter's the same!" the girl in the black dress said.
They laugh again, but this time earning more laughs from the crowd. Marge has never been so embarrassed in her life. Not wanting to further humiliate herself, she just walked back inside the office.
Lisa was playing with her talking Malibu Stacy doll. "Don't ask me, I'm just a girl." It said as she pulled its string, followed by giggling. She then saw her mom came back inside, her face red with anger for some reason. "Mommy?"
"WHAT?" Marge suddenly shouted. Lisa just stood there, all quiet and worried. "Are you alright?"
"It's nothing, Lisa. Don't worry about it." She reassures her, the less said about the quarrel the better.
Marge walks up to the counter. (The clerk is the Sarcastic Guy.)
"A room for two please," she asked.
"Sure thing, doll." He said. As he's about to hand her the keys, "Hey, if you don't mind me asking, what's the deal with you and those hookers?"
"It's nothing."
"I just don't understand a pretty broad like you would be mingling with a bad crowd like that? Well now that I see it, you kinda look like a Lebanese prostitute in that get up. Did you come from some fancy party?"
"Because my idiot ex-husband made me! That's all I have to say, okay?"
"Sure, whatever you say. Pleasant day." He hands her the keys. Marge murmurs as she snatches the key from his hands.
They got out from the same door where those hookers are still loitering.
"What? Care to join us, honey?" The one in green chides, earning some laughs from the other three.
"Oh and sweetie," the black girl reached down to Lisa's eye level, "you know you can come play with us whenever you like. We can be best friends."
"Okay lady!" Lisa exclaimed.
"Hmmmmmmm!" Marge groans in anger as she drags Lisa away.
"We'll be seeing ya, sugar!" The blonde hollered as she twiddled her fingers.
Marge and Lisa climb the stairs to their room.
"Hey, mommy! We got a swimming pool! Can we go?"
Marge looks down and sees a man trying to fish a body out of the water with a skimmer.
"Not right now, dear," she replies.
Marge and Lisa's room is 172.
"Hey lady!" The hooker in green shouted, "we know which room you're at!"
"Yeah, so we know where to find you!" The hooker in the black dress said.
"Okay, see ya later!" Lisa waved at them.
Later that night, Lisa goes to sleep in her clothes. All peacefully while Marge spends the rest of the night staring out the window in dejection. She also has a baseball bat in hand just in case.
"Will this be our life now?" Marge thought to herself with concern.
I know it's kinda weird, but this idea came to me for awhile.
Should I continue? Anyone have any suggestions?