Nothing great, just a one-shot for one of my favorite cartoons ever! (Though recent seasons are making me wonder if the show's worth watching anymore.)
Disclaimer: The Simpsons and its characters belongs to Matt Groening.
"Ahhh...Nothing like lazing around on a day off of work..." Homer Simpson lay contentedly on the couch, watching whatever crap was currently on. A few empty cans of Duff Beer laid on the floor in front of him.
The bald man reached for his half-full bag of pretzels, trying to exert as little energy as possible. With just a little stretching, Homer managed to accomplish his little goal.
"Marge!" He then yelled to his wife. "I need another Duff! Marge?" No answer. Marge probably went out to run some errands. Homer shrugged, figuring he could enjoy his salty snacks without one.
After all it wasn't like that hot April Fools' Day, with the exploding beer and all. At least Homer could be glad for that. He had almost completely zoned out and started napping when he heard the door open.
"Marge, is that you? Did you get me beer?" The figure at the door answered, but not in Marge's familiar voice. Instead, Homer was greeted by an unwelcome rumble, one that could only be from one of his hideous sisters-in-law.
"Humph! I never knew Bigfoot was living among us." Selma Bouvier came in, holding her daughter Ling and apparently chewing on something.
"Oh. Hi, Selma," Homer said as he sat up and glared at her. "Where's your partner in crime?"
"Patty is out with her new girlfriend. I figured I'd come over to see if my non-identical sister was here. Instead, I discover a new species of gorilla."
"Aw, yeah? Well, it takes one to know one!"
Selma scoffed. "That comeback was lame, even for you. Anyway, is Marge home?" When Ling caught sight of her uncle, her eyes lit up and her hands made grabby motions. Clearly, she didn't forget her favorite way of showing affection for him.
"Nah. I don't know where she went." Homer patted the free couch cushion next to him. "Eh, pop a squat anyway. I'm sure she'll be back soon."
Selma walked over, setting Ling down on the floor. She sat her frumpy figure next to her corpulent brother-in-law. "I have a very important question for you, fatty. You got an ashtray?" She pulled out what looked like a wad of gum from her mouth.
Homer looked around. He saw no such item, and opted to pick up an empty beer can from the floor. "Will this work?"
Selma shrugged. "Beggars can't be choosers." She pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one, taking the makeshift ashtray in hand. "What the hell are you watching here?"
"I have no idea. Not really paying attention to it." Homer handed her the remote, and as predicted, Selma flipped it to a rerun of Macgyver.
"At least you're honest about it. Maybe this'll help you gain a few brain cells." Homer breathed an inward sigh of relief. As long as it wasn't another vacation slideshow featuring her and Patty.
"Eh, it's better than nothing." The lack of conversation was a bit weird between them. He had to break the silence somehow.
"So, uh...you find a new man yet?" Selma sighed, blowing cigarette smoke out through her nose.
"No...Well, I did date that groundskeeper at Bart and Lisa's school for a while." The woman scratched her head, then bit her lip. "I thought there was something between us, but apparently, he couldn't stand the fact that I was the 'Loch Ness Monster' in the flesh."
"Awww..." Another somewhat lengthy silence.
"You think I'll ever find the right man, fatty?" Selma asked as she flicked cigarette ash into the empty beer can. "I mean, I've tried so many times to find him, but I've always come up short." She looked down sadly at the floor, sighing.
Homer, in a moment of pity, patted her back. "I'm sure you will. I mean, hey, I found Marge. And every day I'm grateful that she stays with me."
Selma looked up at him again. "Would you have married my sister, even if you hadn't knocked her up?"
The bald man nodded. "Of course, if you've dealt with Bart as long as I have, I need someone to keep me sane." Homer's expression turned into one of anger. "I swear, if that boy weren't my son, I'd like to..."
"Maybe you're right," Selma said, interrupting Homer's impending tirade. "I mean, if you managed to find someone, then there's got to be hope for me yet, right?"
"Uh-huh! Somewhere out there, some desperate moron is looking for a woman just like you." Homer watched as Ling attempted to chase Snowball II and Santa's Little Helper around the room. "And maybe you'll find the perfect daddy for your daughter."
"Perfect daddy, huh? Well, besides you, the closest thing Ling's had to a father was Jub-Jub." Selma then chuckled in that familiar rumbling way of hers.
"Oh? How's he doing?" Homer asked. Selma's expression turned grim again.
"I had to give him away. Turns out he started to forget the difference between dead things and inanimate objects. I'm amazed he wasn't dead himself." Selma took a long drag of her cigarette, and slowly blew smoke into the air. "I guess I wouldn't have gotten him, anyway, if Mom weren't trying to stab him with a hat pin."
"Eh. I wouldn't worry about it. He was probably more trouble than he was worth." Selma shrugged, as if in agreement.
"Funny. Normally we'd probably be at each other's throats by now, but...you're surprisingly good at making others feel better." Selma said, looking away. Homer slightly blushed at the sentiment.
"Yeah? Well, you're not entirely evil yourself." Now it was Selma's turn to look away in odd humility.
"And your stench is surprisingly bearable."
"Well, you're less of a jerk than Patty is."
The two traded odd compliments back and forth to each other, until the both of them saw the Station Wagon pull up into the driveway.
"Looks like Marge is back. Wanna go see if she needs help?" Homer stood up and extended his hand to Selma.
Selma looked at his hand, then put out her cigarette and reached out to take it. "Well, if you're actually going to help, I suppose so." Homer pulled her up to her feet, and the two of them made their way to the front yard.
"I enjoyed our conversation, Fatass. You're not as incompetent as you look." Homer smiled, knowing she wasn't completely serious about the derogatory name.
"And you're not half-bad yourself, Smellerella." The two exchanged wry smiles, and then let forth a few chuckles. Homer then opened the door, and offered Selma to go out before him.
"Ladies first?" Selma happily obliged, and Homer followed after her, to help out Marge.
Perhaps things might get better between the two after all.
So, read, review, do whatever you wish. Hopefully this wasn't too bad or OOC.
-Emerald-Shadow-Knight