DISCLAIMER! I DO NOT OWN ANY CHARACTERS FROM THE SIMPSONS! PLEASE BE AWARE OF THIS AND PLEASE ENJOY!
Freaky Friday
Chapter 1
THURSDAY
It was a usual Thursday morning.
Bart was still sleeping in his room when his alarm clock rang. Grumbling, he got out of bed.
Great, he thought. Here is another day of school, another day of torture.
He put on his usual orange shirt and blue shorts. School had been just another day of learning about nothing.
First, however, he had to do something in the household. Bart went to his parent's room. Homer was sleeping on the floor. Last night, he had drunk a sip of expired vodka and went crazy. Homer had been passed out on the floor, with no shirt, beer belly exposed. Marge was in the washroom, getting ready for the day.
Bart took a marker out of his pants. He then wrote something on Homer's forehead. He laughed as he quickly ran out of the room.
Marge came out of the washroom to wake up Homer. "Homey," she shook him gently. "It's time for work."
Homer got up and dragged himself to the washroom. "Stupid job is always trying to bust my balls for doing something." He looked into the mirror and saw what had been written on his forehead: Ben Affleck.
"BART!" Homer shouted as he ran to Bart's room. He knocked on the door, furiously. "GET YOUR BUTT OUT HERE RIGHT NOW!"
Lisa got out of her room, dressed in her usual orange dress. "Dad, I believe if you want to get your son's attention, you may want to use a different tone in your voice."
Homer looked at Lisa. "Sweetie, if I used another tone in my voice, that would make me weak, just like Michael Cera."
Bart had heard the conversation from inside his room. "Yeah, but Homer isn't famous!" he laughed.
Homer had enough and went back to pounding on his son's door. "BART! I'M GOING TO GIVE YOU TO THE COUNT OF THREE TO GET YOUR UGLY, YELLOW, NO GOOD BUTT OUT OF THERE!"
Lisa interrupted. "Dad, different tone."
Homer closed his eyes and changed his tone. "Son, I would appreciate it if you would come out of your room. I would like to talk to about this horrible thing you have written on my forehead." Then, out of nowhere, he pulled out a baseball bat. "I just want to talk."
Lisa shook her head and walked away. "Mom! You may want to call 911 again!"
Bart called out. "You can come in here and we'll talk, Homer!"
Homer hid the bat behind his back and opened his room. Bart was sitting on his bed, smiling.
"Well, Dad," Bart laughed. "At least you have someone written on your head with more credibility!"
Homer snapped. "I'LL KILL YOU! AAAAHHHHH!" He ran into the room. Unfortunately, Homer stepped on soap and began to slip all over the room, with Bart in hysterics.
"AAAAAHHHHHHH!" Homer screamed, as he flew off the soap and out the bedroom window, falling into the backyard.
Bart laughed for a couple of more seconds while he got his backpack and headed downstairs for breakfast.
