Author Notes - Holy crap I had so much trouble with this chapter for some reason. Usually when I have this much trouble, I scrap the whole thing and start over, but this chapter establishes stuff that will be very important for the future.

CHAPTER ELEVEN - MONA, THE ENVIRONMENTALIST

1961… What can I say? It was the 60's. Mona got wrapped up in the new rebellious phase, and Homer seemed to love it too.

Everyone seems to think that 'their decade' was either the greatest time in history, or the worst. No one ever seemed to realise that all eras had their problems. The 1910's dealt with a horrible world war, and it returned with a vengeance in the 1940's. The 2010's saw the divide between the political left and the political right grow grander than the Grand Canyon, while the 2020's already started off horrible with a global pandemic, seemingly taking some cues from the AIDS scare of the 1980's.

The 50's were a beast of their own, however. As rough as they could get - and they got pretty damn rough - it paved the way for freedom, and it paved the way for the 60's. And that was when Mona discovered what she was born to do, aside from raising the greatest little boy in the world of course.

It started sometime in 1961, while Abe was begrudgingly at his job and Mona had parked herself and Homer in front of the TV. Homer had his head in her lap and was chomping down on a donut with strawberry-icing. The wheel-shaped treat had become a favourite of his. He had tried his first one just a year or two ago, and he had already eaten seemingly a lifetime's supply of them. Or at least he'd want to, but both his parents made it very clear he had to eat 'healthily', whatever that meant.

'… as the Civil War continues.'

Mona groaned to herself. The news had always been a mess, but ever since they brought up the Civil War it had gotten worse. To say the least, the local news in Springfield was rather right-leaning, which wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't more correctly white-leaning. Why else would they take the footage of two young black brothers - one talking with passion about his dreams to go into jazz, with the other insisting that being a doctor was much more important - and then frame them like a bunch of miscreants at best?

'Look at that, Mommy!' Homer said, pointing at the screen. 'It's-!'

He clamped his hands over his mouth, for at that moment he remembered that he was supposed to be keeping his friendship with Carl a secret. Indeed, Carl was on screen for a quick moment, as the newscaster tried to portray him playing with a discarded wheel as an act of theft. Fortunately, Mona was paying too much attention to the news to hear him, and even if she did it wasn't likely she would care. She was too busy thinking about how those people - who were humans just as much as she was - were regarded as lower beings just for their skin. Before she could articulate her thoughts on the matter…

'... being chopped down to make room for a new mansion.'

Mona launched forward. 'What?!'

Cut to the crappy camera footage of someone interviewing a man who had to have been at least a decade older than Mona was. There was something about his appearance that frightened Homer into hugging his mother's arm, and perhaps he had the right idea.

'So, why are you building yourself a manor?' The interviewer asked. 'Didn't you already have one handed down to you?'

'Oh, you can never have too many mansions. After all, I don't think it's enough for my friend and me. And I've got all this money that I might as well spend it on something!'

Mona gritted her teeth upon seeing this man. She may not have known him that well, but the tales her husband told her from the WW2 days taught her everything she needed to know. She wasn't so familiar with the man behind him, though, yet he seemed just as apprehensive about the situation as most people would be.

'Charles,' He said. 'Are you sure that's necessary? I'm sure your parents' mansion will do us just fine. Could you at least lend it to the homeless or something?'

Charles scoffed. 'Oh, what have the homeless ever done for me?' He turned to the interviewer. 'Ignore my partner here. He's just a little emotional since his wife is having trouble conceiving a little Waylon Jr.'

'Charles, I told you that was private!'

Mona could see construction vehicles in the background, and right before the footage cut away to something else, there was a brief shot of one of the trees in that forest being cut down. For a moment, Charles grinned at the destruction behind him.

'He can't do that!' Mona yelled.

'Can't do what?' Homer asked.

'Cut down that forest, just for the sake of some mansion that he doesn't even need! Don't you realise how animals live in those trees? You can't just get rid of them for something so petty!' She groaned. 'That Burns man already has everything in the world handed down to him. The least he could do is provide something nice! Maybe if he was building that mansion for the people who need it, I'd be okay with it. But… but he just wants it all to himself!'

The mother groaned, and stomped out the room so she could vent away from her child. Homer struggled to understand what she was saying, since she mumbled most of it, but even he picked up on that furious tone. He trembled as she left the room; whatever made her that angry must've been bad, even though he didn't quite understand why.

Seeing as his mother was gone, he approached the TV and fiddled around with the knobs. That was how he worked the magic of the magical box, after all. Most of the channels were a complete bore, but after a little bit of searching, he finally found what he wanted.

'Cartoons!'

He had joined at just the right time, for his ears were greeted with the most wonderful sound.

'Who's got the sweetest disposition?'

All of the reruns of classic Donald Duck cartoons began with that cheery and ironic theme song. The words always confused Homer, though. Who were they singing about? The only guy it could've been was Donald, but none of those lyrics - aside from 'Who gets stuck with all the bad luck?' - fitted him at all. Homer perched himself in front of the TV, staring into the black-and-white animation before him. Today's short was 'Donald's Dilemma', a short that actually starred Daisy. It was also known as the 'Donald Duck short were Daisy attempted suicide', and for good reason.

'I couldn't live!' Daisy said as she pointed a gun to her head, in a scene played for laughs.

As Homer watched the short, he couldn't understand why other kids his age preferred Itchy from the Itchy and Scratchy shorts. Donald was a jerk, yes, but that was only because he was the unluckiest man (er, duck) on Earth. Itchy, on the other hand, just beat up Scratchy because he felt like it. Itchy was just a jerk, as opposed to Donald who was a likeable jerk.

The Disney shorts went on for a bit, but Homer didn't notice the time going by. He couldn't notice anything when he was so invested in the TV. Very soon, it swapped over to Looney Toons, which many had seen as an attempt to copy the popularity of the increasingly-violent Itchy and Scratchy, but he didn't know about any of that.

The front door opened.

'I'm not getting paid enough to deal with this!' Abe yelled as he entered the house.

He put his hat on the rack and dropped his briefcase to the floor, and entered the living room. He had hoped to sit down and watch his own shows, only to see his son deeply invested in Looney Tunes.

'Watching your mindless cartoons again, boy?' He asked, plopping himself onto the couch out of protest.

'Yep!' Homer replied, hardly paying him any attention and just assuming he got the question right.

'Where the hell is your mother?! I expect her to greet me at the door. Now what is she doing?'

Homer turned around to answer his question, only to realise that he didn't know the answer either. He glanced at the clock - how long had it been since he last saw his mother? He had seen a lot of cartoons, so it must've been a while.

'I don't know.' He said. 'She left a while ago. I haven't seen her since.'

'What?!' Abe yelled. 'She just left without saying a word?!' He groaned. 'Oh, well that's just great. She must've run away cos she was sick of dealing with you!'

Homer cringed. 'N-No she didn't! S-She'll be back. I-I know it!'

Abe leaned back in his seat and groaned. 'God, I hope so. I don't have the energy to deal with you.'

A few hours passed, and then it was dinner time. Abe got out of his seat and complained about having to make dinner himself, when Mona conveniently walked through the front door the moment he stepped into the kitchen.

'Momma!' Homer cried.

He embraced his mother's legs as tight as he could, and Mona returned the favour by picking him up and lifting him into a much nicer hug. She held onto him tight, and both basked in the warmth the other granted them. If Mona could, she would've never let go.

'Bout time you showed up!' Abe yelled, stomping into the room. 'Where the hell were you?'

'I was taking care of something important.' Mona replied. 'And I can only hope that I've managed to convince that Burns man a thing or two.'

'What the hell are you talking about, woman? Oh, never mind. We need dinner!'

Mona rolled her eyes, and settled Homer down on the floor before she headed off to the kitchen. Someday, she was going to teach Abe how to cook so she wouldn't have to do it all the time herself, but today was not the time. She had already gone through enough that day.

'Woman, you have to tell me these things!' Abe demanded, following her into the kitchen. 'You don't need to ask me permission or anything, but I would like to know where you've been!'

As Mona turned on the gas to the oven, she sighed. 'I was furious because that Burns character was going to tear down a forest just to build a mansion he doesn't even need.'

Abe groaned. 'Burns, eh? Alright, so far your actions are justified. Continue.'

'Gladly. So, I waited until everyone left, and dismantled all their bulldozers with a screwdriver.'

Abe's eyes widened. 'You… you waited until the people got out of them, right?'

'What do you think? I'm not trying to hurt the workers, just teach Burns a lesson.'

The conversation made little sense to Homer, though he understood the gist of it, and followed his parents into the kitchen. The thought of dinner being served enticed him, but he also walked into the kitchen to ask,

'Won't they just buy new bulldozers?'

Mona scoffed. 'Why, they…' Her cocky expression dropped. 'Oh. Of course. Burns is rich as hell. Well, that doesn't matter. I've certainly stalled out the operation, haven't I?'

'Look Mona,' Abe said. 'I appreciate any attempt to bring that hack down, but this one act isn't going to stop him. If he wants to tear down a forest, he's going to tear down a forest whether you like it or not.'

'Yes, one little act isn't going to stop him. But…'

'Mona, don't. This affair doesn't involve you, so don't bother.'

Homer didn't care much for this conversation, and all he could really think about was that wonderful smell of porkchops frying in oil. Not to mention that amazing sizzling sound; it made him salivate, for he knew that the sizzling meant food would happen soon. Still, that discussion was in the back of his mind. He wasn't certain what was so wrong about 'Burns' doing something that he liked, but his mother hated it and that was all he needed to know that he had to hate it too.

The next day, Homer woke up on his own. This alone was odd, for he never woke up on his own and needed one of his parents to get him up in the morning for him. Usually it was his mother, for Abe worried more about getting to work on time than dealing with his child. If his growling stomach was anything to go buy, he had missed breakfast and was approaching lunch. Which meant that his mother hadn't come in to deliver him his breakfast yet.

Whatever was going on, he had to fill up his stomach somehow. So, he hopped out of bed and wandered into the kitchen. Seeing as he had no idea how to make a proper breakfast or lunch, he grabbed a pink-frosted donut from the fridge and immediately began to chomp it down. The fried bread melted in his mouth, and the strawberry-icing pleased his taste buds. He couldn't tell which part of a donut he loved the most - the glazed bread, the flavourful icing, or the colourful sprinkles.

'Hmmm…' He muttered to himself. 'Donuts…'

Only when he swallowed his first bite of his morning donut did he realise how quiet everything was. He could easily hear the sounds of a busy outside, because all the usual inside sounds were gone. No TV, or bickering parents, or anything like that. He entered the living room, and didn't see either his father or his mother anywhere. So, he took his search to their bedroom, but didn't find them there either.

'Momma?'

The absence of his father made sense, because he always disappeared to his job soon after breakfast, but he couldn't remember the last time he had woken up to see his mother gone. Though he had no idea where his parents could've been, he smiled.

'Woo-hoo! I have the house to myself!' He paused. 'Now what?'

The answer came in just a few minutes.

'HOMER!'

At the sound of Lenny's voice, he wolfed down the rest of his donut and ran out the door to meet his friend. It was quite lucky that his family wasn't rich, because he didn't think to lock the door behind him.

Mona knew that merely dismantling those bulldozers did nothing but stall the inevitable. She knew that Charles wouldn't stop at just that, if Abe's stories about him were any indication. Before her husband had even woken up, she got herself ready and returned to that destruction site to give that rich jerk another hurdle.

As she approached that forest, she found her jaw dropping at the sight. She may have expected to see Charles and Waylon there, with their crew to boot, but she certainly did not expect that group of people standing between a newly-bought bulldozer and the forest. A small number of people gathered in front of one of the trees, and all stood defiantly against the rumbling machine of destruction. One of the women held a frightened squirrel in her arms, and she had the bite marks (and future doctor appointments) to prove that she had been holding it for a while. A man, one clad in what appeared to be his nighttime clothes, stood ahead of the entire group and held his arms out like a scarecrow.

'What in the world…?' Mona murmured, unable to tell what she wanted to question first: this group of protesting strangers, or the idea of using a plain old bulldozer against a tree.

Charles, as to be expected, was on the scene and so angry that he nearly snapped his clipboard in half. Only nearly because he never had the physical strength to do anything of the sort. So, he settled with tossing it to the ground instead as he stomped over to the bulldozer driver with Waylon following right behind him.

'You there!' He yelled, pointing at the driver. 'What are you doing? Get going!'

The driver tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. 'B-But sir, there are people in the way. Am I just supposed to… run them over?'

'I have to explain that to you?' He groaned. 'I'm surrounded by idiots…'

Waylon cleared his throat. 'Sir, I really don't think this is a good idea. I shouldn't have to tell you that murder is wrong, but this isn't in your best interest. Do you really want to go to jail?'

Charles scoffed. 'I have bribes!'

The driver nodded, got back in his seat, and revved his engine. He kept his hand on the gear shifter, but didn't move it. The accelerator was pushed once. Twice. Three times. The dozer didn't move. His grip on the steering wheel got looser and looser.

'Get out of the way…' He muttered. 'For the love of god, please get out of the way…'

Despite the threatening rumbles of the mighty machine, the crowd of people did not move. In the insanity, Mona walked around everyone and approached the strange group from behind. The woman holding the squirrel turned around and noticed her in a moment, and smiled.

'Another rebel?' She said. 'Come on. We need all the people we can get to stop this.'

Mona's eyes widened. It left her a little speechless for a bit, and it didn't help when Squirrel Woman gently took her by the hand. The little critter in her arms looked terrified, but too hurt to run away.

'What… what is going on?' Mona asked.

'We call it a rebellion.' Squirrel Woman replied. 'This forest is home to too many animals for it to be chopped down for a useless building. So we've come together to put a stop to it. We've always wanted to do something about this, but we were too worried. That was, until, we heard that someone singlehandedly dismantled all the old bulldozers.'

Mona chuckled, and blushed lightly. 'Would you believe it if I told you that it was me?'

Squirrel Woman gasped. 'Well! Then I shouldn't be so surprised to see you here.' She beckoned for her to come closer. 'Come on!'

Though Carl had made it very clear that he didn't know every other black person, he certainly knew a few of them. Being segregated alongside all the other black people in the city definitely helped. Today, he decided to introduce Homer to a couple of classmates.

They all sat together on the side of the road. Homer had his chin resting in his hands, as the old tire seated his body just fine. Carl and Lenny sat on either side of him, snapping their fingers to the beat of the music. The new friends today were a pair of brothers - Murphy and Julius, who were both at least a year or two older than Homer. While Julius sat to the side with a somewhat bored look on his face, Murphy played a big shiny instrument that Homer had never seen before. Apparently, it was called a 'saxophone'.

The music Murphy played with his 'saxophone' was unlike anything Homer had ever heard. It wasn't boppy or catchy like a Disney movie, nor was it gritty like a war chant. It didn't impress him too much, yet he couldn't stop listening. Something about it spoke to him. The way Murphy played was like he had no sheet music, and his heart knew all the notes instead. Nothing about it sounded planned, and in fact more like the kid was making it up as he went along.

Despite - or, perhaps, because - of its entirely improvised nature, something about the tune felt like it was hitting Homer right in the soul. He and the other boys remained silent as Murphy played, until he decided that the song was long enough and ended it with a long note that lowered in pitch and volume until it stopped. Once it did, he lowered his saxophone and bowed before his audience. Carl and Lenny applauded his performance, and so Homer joined in.

'That was awesome!' Lenny said.

'And that wasn't even his best work.' Carl said.

Murphy smiled from the compliments, flashing his teeth for just a moment. The sight of those molars made Homer cringe, just a little. Compared to Carl and Julius, whose teeth were just fine, Murphy clearly didn't care much for dental. Teeth were never pitch white, but they certainly weren't yellow either.

Julius rolled his eyes. 'You're not gonna live on music.'

Murphy chuckled. 'You don't live on music. You live through it.'

'Riiight. But I'm gonna make a real difference. Doctors are way more important than musicians. Doctors really help people.'

Murphy shook his head. 'Doctors and musicians are just as important as each other. Doctors help the body, but musicians help the soul.'

Julius scoffed. 'Oh, now that's just silly!'

Murphy simply laughed him off, clearly used to his little brother putting down his musical career. Julius crossed his arms and looked away, for he had the arguing skills of a kid his own age.

'I don't see the point of music.' Homer said, seemingly out of nowhere. 'I mean, it sounds nice, but the other kid is right. Doctors do more than music players!'

Julius gave his brother a cheeky little smirk, but Murphy paid him no attention and just laughed again.

'See? I told you doctors were better.' Julius said. 'What do you say to that?'

'Not much at all.' Murphy replied. 'Some people just don't like music, and if Homer isn't too into it, then I don't need to play it for him all the time.'

Homer frowned. 'I didn't say stop.'

Murphy's eyes widened, for the tone used was a little pushy, but he wasn't complaining. With a shrug, he picked up his saxophone and played another tune. It was no less improvised than the last one, perhaps more so for he had to try to make it sound different to the first one. Even though it was made up on the spot, you wouldn't have been able to tell if you heard it. Since this story is a written word, you'll just have to take my word for it.

'I bet my mom would love to hear this!' Homer said, sitting up a little.

'Nope!' Lenny said, waving his arms around. 'I mean, she might, but we can't take any risks here!'

'Not being beaten up by mean white guys is kinda nice.' Carl added. 'And they might break his saxophone!'

Julius sighed. 'And we wouldn't want that, would we now?'

Murphy stopped playing just long enough to give him a quick grin. 'You like this music. Admit it.'

Julius had no response to this, and simply turned around with a 'hmph!' while crossing his arms. That was all Murphy needed to know that the answer was 'yes'. He continued playing his instrument, and Homer kept listening. Part of him wanted to smash that shiny thing to stop the music, but he couldn't bring himself to get up and do it. Not out of laziness - though that was definitely a factor - but because he didn't want to stop this odd feeling in his soul. His mother would like this music, he was certain…

His thoughts came back to his mother. Where had she gone? She never left him without saying anything about it before, so why was this time any different? An uneasy feeling overtook his body and made his stomach churn.

Carl noticed the growing frown on his face. 'Woah, you okay, Homer?'

'Do you think my mom ran away?' Homer asked.

The music came to a dead stop as all the faces turned to him. He looked to the ground, and kicked at a little rock. It wasn't like he wanted to think about his mother running away, but he couldn't see any other reason why she'd leave him without saying a word.

Murphy gave him a soft smile. 'I wouldn't worry. Adults have a lot of things to do. And I don't know why she'd want to leave a kid like you.'

Homer smiled. 'Yeah! She's probably waiting for me at home.' He yelped with a voice a few octaves higher than usual. 'I didn't tell her I was leaving to meet you guys! She might think I ran away!'

'Well, let's not leave her waiting!' Lenny said, before he turned to the brothers. 'Sorry for the sudden leave, but Homer's mom is a really nice mom, and we don't wanna keep her waiting.'

'That's fine with us.' Murphy said. 'I'm just happy that Homer got to experience the joy of music.'

Julius sighed. 'I'm sure he'll remember that if he ever breaks his leg.'

While Lenny ran away to bring Homer back home, Carl stayed behind to listen to more of Murphy's music and Julius's claims that musicians had little use. He watched his light-skinned friends as they left the forgotten part of the neighbourhood, and he couldn't help but wish that one day he too could 'cross the borders' and live happily in the white part of town.

Homer rushed home as fast as he could. Which, considering that he hated running, wasn't very fast at all, and Lenny had to stop several times to let him catch his breath. Despite this, they managed to get back to Homer's house in due time. By the time they made it, Homer was almost completely out of breath, but still he dragged himself over to the front door while Lenny watched him from behind the front gate.

As Homer reached out for the door, it ended up opening seemingly on its own. The farm boy smiled, but his smile fell away when he saw who was really on the other side of the door.

'Where the hell have ya been, boy?!' Abe demanded, crossing his arms. 'First your mother runs off without telling me anything, and now you're wandering off on your own too?'

Homer gasped. 'Momma… ran away? S-She's gone…?'

Abe scoffed. 'No, you nitwit. She'd never trust me to raise you by myself. She's just out trying to deal with Burns again. I had to leave my job early and lose money just to make sure that there was someone to take care of you!'

The young boy fluttered his fingers. 'She… she'll come back, right?'

'She better! I need a big dinner after dealing with this crap!'

Homer relaxed, but only a little. He still couldn't see his mother anywhere, and being with only his father seemed just a little bit worse than being by himself.

'W-When is she coming back?' He asked.

'If she knows what's good for her, she'll be back in five minutes!'

She did not return in just five minutes, but Homer - who whiled away the hours watching more reruns of old cartoons - didn't really understand what 'five minutes' meant, so he didn't worry too much when even a couple of hours passed. Abe groaned, once again thinking he would have to prepare dinner for him and his son, when the door finally opened right at sunset.

'Sorry, boys,' Mona said as she stepped into the room. 'That took longer than I thought it would…'

Her neat hair and clothes that she had before leaving were no more, replaced by messy hair and clothes covered in dirt, bark, and animal fur. She dusted herself off, telling herself that she would clean that mess up later. Before Abe could berate her for being late two days in a row, Homer's heart soared when he saw his mother stepping in through the door.

'MOMMA!' He cried in absolute joy.

Mona didn't have the time to process anything, before Homer grabbed onto her legs and hugged them so tight that she would need firefighters to get free. As much as the sudden embrace made her heart stop for a moment, she knelt down as far as she could and gave him a little kiss on the forehead.

'Where were ya, Momma?' He asked.

'Out serving justice.' She replied, scuffing up his hair a little. 'That Burns man may be okay with plowing through innocent people, but his workers certainly aren't.' She breathed a sigh of relief. 'If it wasn't for that lovely Waylon man, we might not have won this round.'

'Did ya save that forest?'

'Not yet, Homie. But we'll break that man soon!'

The moment of joy and celebration came to a swift stop as Abe walked into the room, with his arms crossed and a frown contorting his face. One could easily feel the mood of the room get chiller as he walked in despite not saying a word. Homer's smile dropped as he turned to the old man.

'Homer,' Abe said, his tone flat and serious. 'Wait in the dining room for dinner. I need to have a talk with your mother.'

'What about?' Homer asked.

'You don't need to know. Now git going!'

Homer feared disobeying his father, so he ran into the dining room without a second thought. With the child out of the way, Abe gave his wife the staring down of a lifetime. Mona responded to it with a scoff and an eyeroll.

'Abe, you can't scare me.' She said, crossing her arms. 'I don't know why you try.'

'You better not be going out to stop Burns's schemes again.' Abe said. 'I hate that man as much as anyone, but I don't want you doing this rebellion stuff.'

'Of course you don't. You just want me to sit at home and be a good little wife.'

'No. I want you to be a good little mother.'

'I-'

And then Mona found herself a little lost for words, aside from incoherent stammering of what was supposed to be a good argument.

'Two days in a row,' Abe continued. 'You ran off for some environmental thing. You can go on whatever crazy schemes you want, but for god's sake at least wait until Homer's at school or something! Two days in a row you left Homer by himself for a scheme that didn't even involve him.'

Mona groaned. 'Oh, you're just complaining because you have to be a father for once.'

'I have a job, woman!' He yelled, throwing his arms up into the air. 'You can't just leave Homer by himself. He's a kid for crying out loud! And now you're running off for your own gains.'

'Abe, they are not only for my own-'

'Homer thought you had run away!'

That did it. Abe knew that those words did it when he witnessed that cocky little smirk completely disappear in favour of a look of shock. He had been saving that, after all, for when she got really cocky. She leaned a little to the left, getting a peak at her son waiting for dinner by the dining room table. Her heart nearly broke in half from the very thought.

'H-He knows I wouldn't…' She tried to say, before she gave up.

'I know where this behaviour gets you.' Abe said. 'You're all brave and heroic until someone finds you out. Do you really want that to happen when your son is on the line?'

'Abe, I…' She sighed. 'I understand. But I can't simply sit around and let people like that Burns man ruin the world just for their own selfish gains!'

Abe rolled his eyes. 'And you call me stubborn.'

Mona took one good look at her son. She refused to show it until Abe left, but her heart sank as she watched her son bang on the table in anticipation for his dinner. A thought came to her mind - surely she could enjoy rebelling against Burns and the other people like him without leaving her son to the wayside. Then, she had an idea, one so good that she would've smiled if Abe wasn't there.

The solution was obvious - get Homer into it! And the first step was to talk to her new gang of friends to organise something to get not just Homer but a whole bunch of other people involved.

Homer didn't know what to think of his mother disappearing for so many days in a row. She always came back and insisted that she would never leave him, but he still worried every time that she just left him and his father without saying a word. The good thing was that she came home happier and happier, meaning that she must've been doing something right. Not that he understood what, exactly, but that didn't matter to him.

It must've been about a week until he finally heard her voice again when he woke up in the morning. He smiled as he awoke to the sound of her sweet, motherly voice, and lay in bed waiting for her to show up. Except, she didn't. He sat up in his comfy bed and looked around for her, but she was nowhere in sight. At least he could hear her voice, or he would've started to panic again.

'I'm not asking for much.' She said from down the hallway. 'Just an hour, and then we can leave.'

'I'm not bringing Homer to a concert run by your crazy new friends!' Abe yelled back. 'I don't wanna corrupt his mind with their insane propaganda!'

'Propa-? Abe, it's a concert. The only 'message' that Homer's gonna get is that music is fun. My god, you rant and rave about how he never understands anything, and now you're worried that he's going to pick up some subliminal messages that aren't even there.'

'Oh, believe me Mona. I know a thing or two about propaganda. It was everywhere in the second Great War. For god's sake, Donald Duck appeared in a propaganda cartoon! Now, it was anti-Nazi, so I can't complain, but still. It's everywhere!'

Most of the conversation passed through one ear and out the other for Homer, since he couldn't understand most of the words being spoken by his grumpy father. He did understand a few of them though, and what he picked up was this - he was going to a concert. Despite the bitter tone of the conversation, that part of it got him excited. He smiled as he imagined what kind of music they would be playing, and all the delicious junk food they would be serving.

Unable to contain his excitement - seeing as waving his hands about didn't do the job - he hopped out of bed and ran down the hallway.

'Okay, here's a deal.' Mona said, putting her face in her palm. 'You get to bring along your 'special magazines', and I'll take care of Homer the whole day. And if you think the 'propaganda' is getting to him or whatever stupid thing you're talking about, we can go home straight away.'

Abe rubbed his chin. 'Hm… I guess that works. But the moment things start getting weird, I quit!'

Mona sighed in relief. 'Oh thank goodness…'

Homer arrived in the living room just as the deal was being resolved, and he couldn't believe that his mother managed to convince his father to do anything.

'We're going to a concert!' He cheered, jumping up and down on the spot. 'We're going to a concert!'

Abe groaned. 'I'm already regrettin' this…'

'So, I'm sure you, like, know what's going on with Mr Burns and his crazy mansion.' The lead singer said into the mic, sounding like he was a little out of it. 'So we, like, came together so we can totally convince more cool dudes that it's, like, a bad idea.'

Abe had only been at this 'concert' for about five minutes, and he already wanted to leave. Everywhere he looked, he saw men with long hair and women donning baggy costumes decorated with little flowers. There weren't a lot of people there, but any more than zero was too many for him, and they seemed like they were everywhere. He sat down on the grass and crossed his arms like a petulant child while all these crazy people cheered for the people on stage. Frankly, he didn't see what the big idea was - the lead singer was clearly on some sort of substance. The one bright side was that the tickets were free, though the refreshments certainly weren't.

He would've just left immediately, but there was a reason he bothered to stay at all, and that reason was to his immediate left. There, he saw his wife and son sitting together. They had arranged to watch the concert on a hill, mostly so Homer could easily see the stage without all the other patrons getting in the way. He clapped his hands to the music, unaware of what the concert actually represented. If Abe weren't so cranky regarding the situation, he may have thought his son was rather cute at that moment. Of course, even if he did, he would never admit it.

'They make nice music, Momma!' Homer declared, clapping a little louder.

He had to force himself to say no more, or he would've said that it sounded very different from Murphy's. Lenny's rule was still strong in his mind: no one could know he was friends with some black kids. Mona's heart soared as Homer clapped and kicked his feet to the music while he was seated in her lap. He may not have understood the point of any of this, but he enjoyed it, and that was all he cared about.

'What's the point of this again?' Abe asked.

'If you think that I'm ignoring Homie in favour of justice,' Mona replied, running her hand through her son's hair. 'Then I figured that combining the two would solve the problem.'

'So you're admitting that this is all propaganda!'

Mona sighed with as much frustration as humanly possible. 'Abe, Abe, Abe…'

Homer's gaze drifted towards the crowd. Most of it consisted of complete strangers who blended together into a mess of bright, disorientating colours, but some people stood out. Why? These people had no blindingly colourful outfits on. In fact, they had no outfits on at all! Indeed, he spotted more than a few people who weren't wearing a thing, except for a couple of them wearing underwear for decency's sake.

Suddenly, he began to wonder why he himself was wearing clothes…

After a while of daydreaming about anything else. Abe glanced down at his watch. An hour had passed around? Time sure did pass when you pretended that you were anywhere other than where you actually were.

'Alright, there's my hour up.' He said, leaning back with a groan. 'Let's get go-'

'Oh my!' Mona cried, before she began giggling like crazy.

Abe gasped. Before his very eyes, he saw his own son dancing around in a puddle of mud almost completely naked. The only thing he still wore was his underwear, and only because Mona forced him to. The kid's brown hair waved in the light breeze as he got himself nice and muddy in the puddle.

One of Mona's protesting friends smiled when he saw the kid 'embracing nature'. 'Your son totally gets it, Mona.'

'I'd expect nothing less from my little Homie!' She said.

In an instant, Abe got to his feet and grabbed Homer by his wrist. The boy stopped dancing immediately, and allowed his father to drag him away without any resistance. He had long learnt, after all, that any resistance could be met with some mighty force.

'That's it!' Abe yelled. 'We're going home! I'm not letting your mind be corrupted by this nonsense.'

Mona jumped to her feet and grabbed Homer's other arm. 'Abe, he's a kid! Don't lie to me and say that you didn't play around in the mud, naked or otherwise.'

'Hah! If I started acting like this, my father would hit me across the back with a ruler. And I'd say it worked out well for me.'

The mother Simpson grunted. 'This explains so much.'

Mona's friend frowned. 'Woah, dude. Don't you think you're taking this, like, a little too far?'

Abe glared at him. 'Don't tell me what to do, freeloader!'

Mona, never the type to sit back and deal with it, tugged on Homer just hard enough to break him from Abe's grasp. Homer hugged her legs and got mud all over her clothes, but she didn't care one bit. Abe may have been glaring at Mona, but Homer felt like it was him who was receiving the death stare.

'You want our son to be corrupted by this?' Abe asked.

'No, but I think the concert is just fine.' Mona replied.

'I- You're using sass against me, aren't you? I…! Okay, that's a little impressive, but I still don't like it! We're leaving this place, and that is final!'

Mona glanced around, and saw that more than a few people were staring at the lot of them. Some looked at Mona and Homer with sympathy, while others gave Abe the 'what the hell is wrong with you?' look, and the whole mess made Mona bury her face in her palm.

With a sigh, she decided that she didn't want to cause a scene. 'Alright Abe, we'll go home. At least we managed about an hour before you lost your top.'

'Any longer, and who knows what Homer's mind would've turned into!'

As the family left the concert, with the crowd pretending that mess never happened, Mona kept her son close to her. The thoughts of her husband's words made her grimace. What would ruin their son's mind? Apparently, the desire to help out the world was 'corrupting his mind'. She held back a smirk - 'corrupting his mind' would be far easier when it was just mother and son at home.

Homer looked up at his father with a frown. Even a kid as young as him could identify patterns, and by now he had spotted a major one: every time he did anything that his father didn't tell him to do, and sometimes even when he was told to do that something, his father got mad. What was he doing wrong? He was just doing what felt right, but his father never seemed to like that. At first, he was certain that there was something wrong with his father. But, then his mind went down another path. If this trend kept popping up so often, no matter what he did…

Maybe it was because there was something wrong with himself.

Author Notes - It was incredibly important to establish Mona's love for environmentalism, seeing as it plays a major part in why she has to run away. Also writing about Homer's love for donuts made me hungry...

I would like to point out that as I was proofreading, I noticed that I had written 'muddle of bed' instead of 'puddle of mud'. I don't even know how that happened.