A/N: Ah hah! I bet you all thought I had forgotten about this little story. Well you were wrong! You were all wrong! I'm back baby! Well, mostly. I got busy with life, random things, and it took no small amount of constant encouragement from Narfy to get me back on the wagon (or is it off?). I do have a lot of stuff planned but for the longest time I could not figure out how to get to stuff I really looked forward to writing, after all if I just put that all at the beginning there wouldn't be much point in the buildup, no? So I thought and thought and plotted and planned. And this is the result. (and yes, this is just the beginning of the actual plot) Hope you enjoy... :D


Chapter Three- What're Friends For?

Homer dropped his weight hard into the driver's seat of his car. It was the end of another long day of work. He had returned to his post once the fire drill was done and suffered silently through the rest of his shift, half expecting to be thrown out at any moment. There was simply no way he could afford the extra expense of Maggie's summer camp. He was already stretched thin enough paying for the entire family, between feeding two growing teenagers, himself, a young daughter, himself and Marge and himself there was more going into their food budget every month than ever before. They had to pay for all of Lisa's extra class materials, those weren't cheap. She was always coming home from school and asking for materials for projects and money for day trips.

Most importantly, Bart's medical bills from last fall were still piling up. They were constantly fighting with the insurance company to get as much of his stay covered as possible. His rehab lasted over a month and if they were stuck with any of the resulting charges it would bury them forever. Homer was relieved his son had survived with little lasting harm, but that wouldn't stop him from making the boy work all summer to help keep their heads above the water.

Homer shrugged and started his car; there was no use worrying about what you can't change. He began driving along the familiar route home when he thought about what Marge would say when she heard about this latest problem. Of course she would get upset, rant and rave about what a horrible old miser Burns was, he'd heard it dozens of times. He needed time to think, away from his family. There had to be a solution.

Recalling the offer of drinks from earlier, Homer flipped open his cell phone and confirmed with Carl that they were all meeting at Moe's after work. Several minutes later he pulled up in front of the bar and shut the car off. After sitting there for a moment, it occurred to him that all Marge had to do was look down the street and see his car parked there, so he restarted the car and pulled around the block to park out of sight.

Getting out Homer let out a long sigh and walked back towards the bar. His mind felt like molasses, he couldn't kick it into gear. Five hundred dollars shouldn't be such a big hassle, Homer lamented. It never seemed to be that much money in the past but now that it actually mattered for his job that he come up with the money somehow it seemed insurmountable. What was Burns up to? Why was he forcing this on everyone? It couldn't be anything good. In his years of working for Burns anytime the man wanted something enough to push this hard it was never good for him or his co-workers. He was a little relieved that it wasn't himself that was going to the camp but at the same time he worried for the safety of his youngest daughter, Maggie. She was a tough girl, and smart, but he couldn't help but baby her just a little here and there. In his mind she would always be his baby daughter and as such held a soft spot in the old man's heart.

As he passed a window display something caught his eye. He stopped, turned and found he was looking in the window of, oddly enough, a camping outlet. Matches & Thatches, Homer read off the hand painted sign hung above the door. It looked new, maybe they just opened.

Intrigued Homer pushed the door open and heard the bell dangling above the door give a little chime as he entered. The clerk on duty looked over at him and nodded, indicating he was currently helping another father and his children. Homer watched as the kids ran circles around their father, grabbing everything they could reach off the shelves and closely inspecting it before presenting their discovery for approval. The father stood in one spot while they whipped around him and managed to keep a smile on his face despite his eyes showing he wanted to shout at them to settle down. Homer had to admire the guy's patience with his children; he would have started yelling after a solid minute of behavior like that. But he could tell the kids were really excited about the trip they were gearing up for.

Homer got a little wistful, thinking about the days when he was young enough to still enjoy the outdoors. Maybe Maggie would want to go, just like these kids, after all she seemed to flourish in situations where you had to fend for yourself. What kind of father would he be if he had to admit to her he couldn't afford to send her.

He looked around as he circled the room, staring at all of the merchandise. There was everything you could possibly want for a camping trip here; tents, lanterns, backpacks of all shapes and sizes, prepackaged logs, lanterns, freeze-dried foods, full sets of cookware which collapsed and fit together into a tiny amount of space you so you could easily pack it in your backpack, a display case full of various assortments of pocket knives and utility tools, a bookshelf containing books on every conceivable topic you could want to find out more about for camping, there seemed to be no end to the stuff people would buy to make the outdoors less… outdoorsy. Homer grinned to himself when he thought about the camping trips he and his family had taken, they hadn't needed half of this stuff, though the other half they probably did. But they'd made it work.

"Sir, have you decided on what you need to purchase?" the clerk had finally caught up with him, but Homer, having become distracted by all the interesting things around him jumped a little when the man put a hand on his shoulder and smiled enthusiastically. "Hi, my name's Kendrick. Welcome to Matches and Thatches; where if we don't sell it, it's a sin against nature."

"Well I really just wandered by and got curious; can you believe all the crazy things they make these days? I mean look at this, who needs a…" he looked closer at a rectangular box with a red cross embossed on the top of it and read the black, stenciled lettering under it. "First aid kit?"

"Yes… I see what you mean," Kendrick looked down at his watch and shifted uncomfortably. "So is there anything you want to know more about?"

"No I really don't want to buy anything, it's just my daughter might be going on a trip this summer and I wanted to take a look to see all the new doodads they had come up with since the last time I went out." Homer inched his way towards the entrance and the clerk gave up, returning to the register to fiddle with some tacky displays.

Homer backed out of the store and as he turned he bumped right into a large stranger who caught him and shoved him back away.

"Hey, watch it bub! I'm walkin here!" the man said with a thick New England accent. Homer attempted to apologize but the man rubbed his arm and took off without waiting to hear it. "Damn locals, all I wants a drink, can't even walk down the…"

Homer watched him go, his eye twitching slightly in irritation. Once the man had turned the corner Homer remembered why he was out walking in the first place and resumed his short trip to Moe's bar. Upon opening the door he was forced to wait several seconds while his eyes adjusted to the familiar dank that permeated every corner of the room. Once he could see properly he saw that Lenny and Carl were already slumped over the bar, three beers deep each. Next to them he saw his old friend Barney who was passed out completely on the counter of the bar. There were a few other people scattered around the room, some businessmen who looked to have wandered in unwittingly and were now regretting their use of manners in ordering a drink.

Behind the bar stood its namesake, Moe the bartender, looking particularly disgruntled as he glared at Barney. Homer cleared his throat and sat down between Lenny and Barney.

"I'll have the usual, Moe."

Moe grunted and grabbed a grimy glass off the shelf behind him, filling it to the brim out of the tap with Duff beer. Lenny and Carl shook themselves out of their stupor and looked over at Homer.

"Oh hey, Homer's here. So we never got to ask, what happened when you confronted Burns earlier," Carl inquired. "He throw you out?"

"No, he told me to either come up with the money or I was fired. What's that guy's problem? Why is he doing this? Can't he just leave us alone? Thanks, Moe," Homer scooped up the glass as Moe slid it down the bar to him and he took a swig.

"I dunno, Homer. Money does things to people, makes 'em crazy, you know? Loosens some screws. Sometimes they just want to mess with us regular people."

"Yeah, maybe he wants all the town's children to run in hamster wheels all summer so he can give us a break? It's not as crazy as it sounds," Lenny chimed in. Homer and Carl looked at him strangely. "Hamster wheels. I'm tellin ya, it's something weird like that. Gotta be."

"What's dis you's guys are wailin about?" Moe hobbled over. "What's Burns up to dis time?"

"Oh he's forcing all the guys at the plant to send their kids to this summer camp he set up, and he's charging us! Like five hundred bucks! It's insane if you ask me," Homer explained.

"Well what's da problem? Five hundred ain't chump change, but it certainly ain't worth all dis moanin. Come on, it's bringin down da mood in tha bar."

"Money's been tight all year, you should know, Moe. I haven't been in as often as I'd like to be."

"True, true. So den why's da money so tight?"

"Medical bills, mostly. Kids are growing up, kids cost money. Lots and lots of money. Money Burns won't pay us and now this. He's actually started charging us to work there. How did we let this happen?"

"Oh yeah… dat's right, Bart was in tha hospital. Sheesh, Homah I don't know what to tell ya's. Want another beer?"

Homer looked down at his empty glass and nodded solemnly. Moe skillfully scooped it up and refilled it.

"So yeah, I don't know what to do. Five hundred bucks means we can barely eat, and that's if I start walking to work," Homer said disdainfully.

"Have you thought about selling your blood?" Lenny asked.

"I would but the doctors told me years ago there was no way anyone would pay for what I got. I wasn't really paying attention," Homer replied.

"Oh! I got it! Why don't you sell a kidney? That might still work," Carl said.

"Can't, I gave one to my father, remember? Old geezer took it to the grave with him, too." Homer frowned at the memory.

"Wait which kid is it Burns is forcin ya to send?" Moe asked, his face losing some of the grimace it seemed frozen into.

"Maggie, why?" Homer looked up at Moe.

"Hmm, nothin, just curious." Moe resumed his frown and turned away, resuming his work on the glasses.

"It's time we got serious, there is no way we're going to let Homer go down when we coulda helped," Carl slammed his fist on the counter.

"You're going to help me pay?" Homer sounded surprised.

"What? No, no, I meant we should rob a bank, you know, just a small one. One of those cash and carry joints."

"Hey yeah! I've got a car loan I wouldn't mind taking care of while we're at it," Lenny said.

"What? No I'm not robbing a bank with you guys!" Homer looked at them worriedly.

"It is the only way," Lenny and Carl said in unison, a flush of excitement some might mistake for greed showing on their faces.

Barney stirred and wobbled in his chair.

"Hey... wuz... what's goin-going on you guys? Why are you yelling so loud?" He held his hands over ears and moaned.

"Homers robbing a bank, want in?" Carl grinned.

"No... I promised I'd- that I... never again, no..." Barney belched loudly and his head slipped off the hand he had perched it on, slamming hard back onto the countertop and he passed out again.

"Well this has been a big waste of time, thanks guys. I'm not robbing a bank to send my daughter to camp, I'm not a criminal. Moe settle me up will ya?" Homer got up from his stool and pushed a ten into Moe's hand. He scowled at Lenny and Carl who had taken to whispering conspiratorially between themselves while Homer waited for his change.

"Homah, don't let it worry ya's too much. Tings'll work out, I'm sure of it." Moe handed him a couple bucks back which Homer palmed.

"Yeah, I'll figure it out. Maybe Flanders is feeling generous." He cringed at the thought of asking Flanders for money again. Even religious types had their limits.

"Yeah, well if you do get a solution, make sure she has a fun time, okay Homah? You don't get to take trips like dis forever."

"Sure thing, Moe. Later everyone, and for the last time no robbing!" Homer almost shouted the last part at Lenny and Carl who jumped and looked over their shoulders with a guilty look on their faces. That was worrisome, Homer thought to himself. He'd have to keep an eye on those two for the next few days.

As he exited the bar he realized he still held his change in his hand and grabbed his wallet to stuff them in. When he unfolded the bills he noticed a piece of paper folded tightly in between them.

Curious he put the money away and unfolded the paper. To his surprise it was a grubby check, smeared with dirt and hastily scrawled. It was made out for five hundred dollars. He saw down in the corner on the line for notes there were written a few words.

"For Maggie's camp," Homer muttered incredulously. Below the line in cramped writing was more, "If you tell anyone, I'll slit you ear to ear. -Moe"

He was floored; Moe had never given money away. Loaned sure, at a hefty interest rate, but this? Homer was tempted to turn right around and return it to Moe but thought better of it since that would embarrass them both in front of everyone and honestly, he quite liked his throat just the way it was.

Silently thanking Moe, he wiped a single happy tear from the corner of his eye. Homer refolded the check and put it into the corner of his wallet where he kept the photos of his children. He had a very special little girl to surprise when he got home so he'd better hurry.


A/N: Alright folks, that's it for this installment. I've got a much clearer idea of where this is headed now so keep your eyes peeled for another update in the next few weeks.

And as always, if you enjoy my work please leave a review so I can respond to and bask in your undeserved praise.


Here I must add a shameless plug. Please check out this forum:

w w w. g e n e r a t i o n y e l l o w . p r o b o a r d s . c o m

It's a fledgling community which desperately needs new members. There are several activities you can participate in such as weekly clubs for episodes of the Simpsons, various films (non-simpsons) and a fanfiction review club. So if you'd like some more critical looks at your work then stop by!