Author Notes - Okay, maybe I'm also at fault for not really doing much to circumvent this oddity, but... why didn't Marge tell Homer her name once? Obviously it's so they don't realise that they had dated each other, but it's so bizarre. Especially considering that they could've just said that Homer forgot her name after that long. I mean, honestly, would that be surprising? I would probably forget her name after a month, if that.
It kinda seems like they really wanted to tell this 'dating before they realised it' type story, which I'm all fine with, but I do wish they put a bit more care into making it work. Then again, Season Fifteen.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN - … ONE CRAZY DATE
1965… Sometimes, you have to think: what are other people doing when you're not looking? Well, it's time to see the other half of this story.
'Did you really have to sign us up as assistants? I had things I wanted to do!'
'No, you didn't. And you know it.'
Marge sat in the front seat of the car, right next to her mother. She couldn't stop kicking the floor in her excitement, for she was going to a summer camp. Yes, one for 'underprivileged' kids, since it was all Jacqueline could afford as a single mother with three daughters, but Marge didn't care. New friends to make, fun activities to do… and, even better, she didn't even have to say goodbye to her sisters!
'You're just paranoid about Marge's safety.' Patty remarked, pouting just a little. 'I don't know why. She lives with me, so I know she can handle whatever is thrown her way.'
'It's good to be safe, you know?' Selma said. 'We've already lost Dad, and I'm sure as hell not losing my little sister.'
'Wait, I think I get it.' She smirked. 'You just don't wanna miss her?'
Selma blushed. 'I… oh, don't act like you didn't miss me while I was stuck in the hospital! I know you did. Marge told me!'
'She did?! MAAARGE!'
The bickering of her sisters continued to make her laugh, as she hoped it would for years and years to come. It relieved her to know that they would be able to accompany her, even if as 'assistant camp counselors' instead of proper roommates. With the sound of sistery arguing making a fine substitute for music, the car arrived at the gate of the camp in what felt like merely minutes. Marge jumped out of the car as soon as it came to a stop, already running through the gate like a child high on sugar.
'Come on, come on!' She yelled, jumping up and down. 'We gotta get to our cabins now!'
'Give us just a second first!' Patty said. 'Jesus…'
The twins got out of the car soon after her, though it took Patty a little longer since she was carrying not just her own suitcase but Marge's as well. Not by her own choice, it must be said. Sometimes, being the strongest one in a family was a bad thing.
'Oof, that's a lotta luggage.' Selma said with a smirk. 'You need any help with that?'
'Yeah, you can carry one of these suitcases when I SLAM YOUR FACE WITH IT!'
Jacqueline groaned - maybe allowing the twins to come along as assistant counselors was a terrible idea. Then again, peace and quiet. The girls approached the brick-and-mortar sign spelling out the name of the camp - Camp Land-a-Man. Immediately, Selma grinned.
'Now this sounds like my kind of camp!' She said.
Patty rolled her eyes. 'Okay, first of all, the guys are on the other side of the river. Second, they'd all be, like, ten year olds. Third, is getting a man really all you care about?'
'It's not all I care about. … I also care about having a kid.'
'My god, you are hopeless!'
'Bye Mom!' Marge called, waving away. 'See you in two weeks!'
'I'll be waiting right here!' Jacqueline said, closing the door and getting ready to drive away.
Once Patty had successfully removed all the luggage from the car, Jacqueline drove away as soon as she could. She loved her daughters, clearly, but everyone needed a break sometimes.
'Come on!' Marge yelled. 'Let's get to our cabin already!'
Patty groaned, already struggling to carry both suitcases. 'I'm gonna kill you both before the end of the first week.'
Selma smirked again. 'Yeah, have fun with that.'
'Oh, I will.'
Marge stared out at the river through the window of her cabin. Lovely trees, a beautiful sky, and - of course - the shining river with the boys' camp on the other side. If only they could be both on the same side, then she could make twice as many friends! She sighed blissfully with thoughts of the fun times in camp dancing in her head.
With a groan, Patty placed both suitcases on the ground. 'I should be getting paid for this… so who gets top bunk? Me or you?'
There was a small moment of silence.
The littlest girl chuckled to herself. 'Three, two, one…'
'I SHOULD HAVE THE TOP BUNK! I'M OLDER THAN YOU!'
'Yeah, by like a MINUTE! I'm the pretty one so I GET IT!'
Cue the fisticuffs. Despite both twins being eighteen now, they proceeded to have a physical fight like two annoying kids on the playground. It wasn't too violent and just involved a lot of pushing and shoving with a little bit of pulling, but still something one would think is beneath them. It didn't last too long, however, until…
'OW!'
Patty whipped out her chompers and bit Selma on the arm. While the blonde needed some time to recover from such an attack, the redhead climbed up the ladder of one of the bunk beds and claimed her territory on top. She looked down upon her younger twin with an extremely punchable grin on her face.
'Hey!' Selma yelled. 'That was blatant cheating!'
Patty shrugged. 'You just gotta fight dirty to get what ya want sometimes.'
'Well, I'll just take the other top bunk then.'
'Sorry!' Marge said. 'But that's my spot.'
'Are you…? Ugh.'
It'd be a little while yet before the activities began, so Marge occupied her time with staring out the window and enjoying the scenery. Springfield, as 'great' as it was, could never provide a view nearly as nice as this one. Unless, of course, you considered a sewer drain outlet with possibly-mutated fish to be a suitable river.
'So, what do we do while we're here anyway?' Patty asked. 'Aside from doing whatever it is assistant counselors are supposed to do. Wait, no, lemme guess. We gotta do all that boring stuff like knitting or baking cookies while those lucky boys get to do all the cool stuff.'
'You could probably sign yourself up for the boys' camp.' Selma remarked. 'I mean, I'm sure they'd believe that you're a boy.'
'DON'T MAKE ME GO DOWN THERE!'
Just before Patty was about to pounce down on her twin and maim her, the Camp Counselor (from the girls' side, obviously) knocked on their door and barged on in without asking for permission first. Of course, they were all girls here, but still. She had a smile on her face that was clearly fabricated, looking as though she'd only get paid if she smiled. Marge did a little dance on the spot, since this must've meant the activities were due to start, while Patty was already dreading the 'lame' stuff they'd have to do.
'Come on, girls!' She said. 'And that includes you, Camp Assistants!'
Patty rolled her eyes so hard they hurt, and groaned until her throat went sore. That enthusiasm could not sound more forced.
'We're going to begin our first activity right away!' The Camp Counselor said. 'And I know you're gonna love it!'
'That sounds fun!' Marge said.
Patty sighed. 'Please be at least bearable… please be at least bearable!'
'Come on.' Selma said. 'How bad could it possibly be?'
'Now girls, by the time you are done with camp, I expect you to talk like ladies, walk like ladies, and hold your liquor like ladies!'
How bad could it possibly be? An old lady - who didn't seem nearly as nice as the Camp Counselor - had all the girls sitting down in chairs lined up on the cabin's balcony. Whatever clothes they wanted to wear had been replaced with frilly pink dresses, and they were all forced into some prim and proper sitting position. Much to Patty's chagrin (and urge to murder everything in a five mile radius), this also applied to the two Camp Assistants.
'How bad could it possibly be?' She mockingly repeated in a whiny voice, giving her twin a mighty glare. 'I'm going to find some spectacular new way to kill a person tonight, and you're gonna be the guinea pig.'
'If it's any consolation,' Selma said. 'I don't like this any more than you do. Okay, maybe I hate it a little less. But not by much.'
Marge sat at the very end of the line, perfectly following the instructions given to her by the Old Lady. Unlike the other girls lined up in the chairs, who struggled to sit correctly at best and actively hated it at worst, she was in the perfect sitting position. She even had her legs tilted to the correct angle! In fact, she was so good that the Old Lady specifically pointed her out as the stellar example.
'Get up and show the girls how a proper lady walks, Marge!' She said.
The young brunette got out of her seat, and walked the 'proper' way. The bulky shoes and odd gait, however, felt more like how a penguin would walk, and Marge could feel herself getting ready to topple over at any given moment. She tried her best to smile, though anyone could've told you it was fake. Still, she attempted the 'proper' walk for a few feet until she was certain she had done good enough.
'Well done, Marge!' The Old Lady said. 'I'd be proud if you grew up to be my husband's mistress!'
Marge continued to give her a fake smile, not exactly appreciating that kind of 'compliment'. 'Thank you!'
Patty put her hand up. 'Excuse me, what?! Where do I even begin with that? First, you-'
'A proper lady does not speak unless she is spoken to!'
The redhead slumped her arms and groaned to herself. If this was how someone 'landed-a-man', then she just became even less interested in having a romantic relationship with one. Maybe if men were more like Debra, she might care a little more.
'Now ladies,' The Old Lady said. 'We're gonna be here all day until you too learn how to walk like Marge!'
Many of the other girls, Patty especially, groaned.
'My family moved from Shelbyville for this?' A girl named Luanne remarked.
'Patricia, Selma,' The Old Lady said. 'May you both stand up and give a demonstration for the little ones?'
'OH COME ON!' Patty cried.
Since the girls performed the penguin-walks so well, a special dinner was to be held that night. The girls were seated at two sets of long tables, covered in white cloth (which still had some stains) and about a thousand forks and spoons (which were clearly plastic ones spray-painted silver). At least the oil lamps and wooden walls and floor gave the dining room a nice aesthetic.
Just like with everything else at this camp, it was supposed to be a 'proper' dinner, though Marge had no idea what that could entail. Dinners at her household were never 'proper', unless a 'proper dinner' involved two girls losing their patience and trying to stab each other with forks. Which she doubted. She was seated third from the right, with her sisters taking up the next two seats. Whoever thought to put them together was clearly not right in the head. The chair wasn't too uncomfortable, though the 'proper' position forced upon her and the other twenty-odd girls made it a little… restrictive.
'I hate this…' Patty muttered. 'I have never hated anything other than my sister more than I do this.'
Selma sighed. 'Just shut up and deal with it. Complaining is going to get you nowhere.'
'I know that, but it makes me happy.'
Marge looked at the thirty-or-so forks laid out in front of her. Tonight's lesson was 'learning how to use the right fork', a lesson that neither Marge nor her sisters could see any benefit from. Surely it didn't matter, as long as it could pierce and hold the food. Marge found herself watching Helen, the girl directly in front of her. That girl waved her hand across the whole collection, before she settled on a random one and used it to pick up an olive from her plate. Immediately, the Old Lady was right behind her and on her case, swiping the fork out of her hand and pointing it at her.
'That is not an olive fork!' She said, grabbing another fork seemingly at random. 'Here's a simple trick to remember.'
That was the only warning she gave before she jabbed the fork's prongs directly into the back of Helen's hand.
'Ow!' The young girl exclaimed, removing the fork and rubbing her hand. 'T-That doesn't even help me! They'd all hurt like that, wouldn't they?'
The Old Lady didn't seem to care about the obvious pain she just caused, and simply walked away. Another girl - an Asian who Marge had never seen before, not even at school - glared at her but said nothing. Patty, meanwhile, had a devious smirk on her face.
'Oh, that's a cool trick!' She said. 'I'll try it out now.'
She grabbed onto the first fork she saw (the 'turkey' fork) and - as you may be able to guess - slammed it directly into the back of her twin's hand with as much force as she could manage.
'OW!' Selma cried, yanking her hand away in an instant. 'What the hell is wrong with you?!'
'It's what the lady told me to do.' Patty replied. 'Stab someone else with it. Your scream was an octave too high though, so I don't think it's the right one. Maybe I should try-'
'Jesus christ, I'm bleeding!'
Patty immediately dropped whatever she was about to do and gasped. Indeed, the back of Selma's hand was now bleeding from two tiny holes in a row.
'Oh my god!' She cried, backing away a little. 'I-I did not mean to do that!'
'You stabbed me like you were trying to murder someone!' Selma yelled. 'What were you expecting?!'
To say the least, the lesson came to a halt for just about every other girl in that room. Even Helen's stab wound didn't feel so painful anymore. It wasn't much of a surprise when the Old Lady grabbed Patty by the wrist and yanked her away.
'A proper lady does not assault other people with forks!' She yelled, dragging the struggling teenager away. 'Or with anything for that matter.'
'B-But you just stabbed that Helen girl with a-' Patty tried to say.
'No buts! If you refuse to behave like a proper lady, you'll find yourself punished!'
Patty getting taken away for misbehaviour, Selma needing to have her hand all wrapped up, Marge getting yanked away from that cute-looking boy in the boat… it was not one of the Bouviers' better nights. Add in the fact that Marge had to skip dessert to make the Old Lady happy, and it wasn't looking so good.
'Why couldn't I look at the cute boy?' Marge asked her sister, as she carried her tray to the conveyor belt. 'He seemed nice enough.'
'Yes, he was cute,' Selma replied. 'But I don't wanna risk you getting in with a bad crowd.'
Marge rolled her eyes. 'Don't you hit on every single boy your age?'
'Not every one. Just the pretty ones.'
'Hey, aren't you forgetting your tray?'
'I-'
Only then did Selma realise that she was so concerned with keeping her little sister safe that she had completely forgotten to grab her empty dishes. Saying nothing more than a low groan, she returned to her seat and tried to remember which of the several hundred forks she used. Marge sighed, and placed the tray on the conveyor belt. It was one thing when the twins were insulting each other, but even someone as young as Marge noticed the increasingly volatile behaviour they were aiming at their little sister.
Why are they acting so much meaner now?
'Marge!' Luanne cried, snapping her back into reality. 'Look!'
Marge's attention fell back on her serving tray just as it was going through the wall, like a suitcase at an airport. Right as it disappeared out of sight, she saw her retainer resting right next to the empty glass of juice.
She gasped. 'Oh no! My retainer!'
Oh, Selma's gonna kill me…
Any worry or stress she had regarding her missing retainer vanished when she heard a sweet little voice coming from the other side. It was clearly the voice of a young boy about her age, and the mere sound of his voice perked her spirits.
'I'll get it!'
In just a matter of seconds, the retainer reappeared on a tray through the return chute, no worse for wear and just a little bit shinier.
'Oh, thank you, thank you!' The girl said, rushing over to grab it. 'Oh, you're so sweet!'
The mysterious boy chuckled. 'Well, I did eat sixteen pieces of pie.'
He spoke this with such sincerity, sounding completely unaware of how silly it sounded. Whether he was just joking or meant it seriously, it was still adorable. Either he had a cute sense of humour, or he was delightfully naive.
Marge giggled. 'And you're really funny, too!'
The boy went quiet, but only for a moment. 'Ya know, doing dishes is the best part of camp.'
'What is that?'
'Because I get to talk to you.'
Marge's heart practically exploded. Without knowing what this boy looked like or even his name, her entire trip had gone from boring and aggravating to wondrous. She could hear no hint of sarcasm in his voice - just genuine adoration.
'What's your name?' She asked, desperate to know the answer.
'Ugh, you know how boys go.' Helen said, with a cheeky grin. 'They're all sweet and kind, and then they give you their name and it's big and stupid like… Billy Bob.'
Selma had finally returned with her tray, and decided to join in on whatever conversation was going on. 'Heh… or Homer.' She said with a laugh.
The Asian girl - 'Cookie' was apparently her name - laughed too. 'Big dumb Homer!'
Marge glared at the other girls, but gave her sister the meanest glare of her. Thank goodness it was only Selma, at least. She couldn't imagine what kind of nasty stuff Patty would say. Well, she wasn't going to stand around and put up with that! So, she puffed out her chest and said…
'Now I'm sure he's got a cooler name than Homer. … Wait…'
That didn't quite come out how she wanted it to.
'Uh, my name is… Elvis… Jagger… Abdul-Jabbar?'
The other girls 'ooo'ed at such a (definitely real and) cool name, while Selma just rolled her eyes.
'Now that's a really cool name!' Marge said. 'Say, Elvis… do you wanna, maybe, go out tonight?'
She paid no attention to her sister stammering like an idiot behind her, caring none of the inevitable berating she was going to get out of her.
'Uh, s-sure.' Elvis-Jagger said, sounding rather nervous about it. 'I-It shouldn't take me too long to clean all these dishes and stuff. A-After that, I guess.'
She giggled, once again. 'Okay, I'll meet you on the dock!'
She flinched when she felt a hand grabbing her, but calmed down just a little when she saw it was Selma instead of the Old Lady. The blonde girl dragged her sister across the floor quite adamantly, and there was little Marge could do to fight against it.
'What are you doing?' She asked. 'I'm gonna have a date!'
'I tried to warn you, but nooo…' Selma said with a sigh. 'Look, if you're gonna go out on a date, you're gonna follow my advice, okay? If I'm gonna be an assistant in this stupid camp, I'm going to at least do my job for which I am not getting paid. I know a lot more about it than you do, and definitely more than Patty does.'
'Isn't it bad when all your relationships end after two weeks?'
'Well, I'm probably the only girl here with any experience at all. So do you want my help or not?'
Marge sighed. 'Alright.'
Soon, a few other girls followed her out of the cabin while claiming they too could help her out. And Marge couldn't say 'no' to a single one of them, lest she get stuffed into another dollhouse.
'AAAHHHH!'
Well, that was just about the last time Marge would ever follow Helen's advice. Turns out that ironing one's hair was liable to burn it, and now the deep brown of the brunette had turned into a crispy black that smelled of cooking gone wrong. Now, her otherwise straight and well-ironed hair had a nasty black spot on it. Not to diss black-haired girls of course, but Marge much preferred her hair being a consistent colour.
'HELEN!' She yelled out, pushing the iron aside.
The aforementioned girl rolled her eyes. 'Well, it isn't my fault if you did it wrong.'
Selma, who had been pacing back and forth through the girls' bedroom, groaned. 'You should've followed my advice - bleach your hair until it turns nice and golden. Boys love blondes.'
'Is that why you don't have a boyfriend?' Helen asked.
Selma's mouth went agape. 'How… how the hell do you know?!'
'It's amazing what you'll hear if you just listen hard enough.'
Marge glanced back at the other girls in the room, desperate for help out of this nasty situation. She saw Cookie - the girl who was clearly just here so the camp could score 'diversity points', seeing as she wasn't allowed in most schools - reading a book titled 'How to Lose Your Accent', while Patty stared at her from another bed.
'Why the hell are you reading that book?' She asked. 'I can't figure out why. I'm too busy trying to figure out why that book even exists in the first place.'
Cookie gave her a look. 'Why do you think?'
The redhead groaned. 'I don't get why people change stuff about themselves. I really don't. If someone doesn't like me for me, I'm sure as hell not changing! You either get me and my hairy legs or you don't get me at all.'
'Is that why your legs are absurdly bushy?'
Patty grinned. 'Jealous?'
Marge focused on her eldest sister. Perhaps she had been banned from all the 'fun' activities (whatever they could possibly be), but that advice, as crudely as it had been delivered, seemed like it was the best out of everyone's.
'Well, the solution here is obvious.' Selma said. 'We might as well turn the whole thing black now.'
'What?!' Marge exclaimed.
'Okay, yeah, sure!' Patty said, throwing up her arms in frustration. 'I'm throwing out perfectly good advice without even trying, and you're gonna risk burning all of Margie's hair off.' She gave her sister a very loud and slow clap. 'Good job.'
No one paid her any attention, possibly because she had 'assault with a turkey fork' on her record, and she was left to storm out of the room in frustration. If there was ever a good time to have a 'Miracle Stick', this was it.
There Marge stood, on the dock just as she had promised Elvis Jagger. She donned a lovely pink dress with a flower-pinned headband in her jet black hair, which fortunately had stopped smelling like burnt wood. Most of the girls had their own things to do, but her sisters were hiding right behind a bush to watch the whole thing. Patty would like you all to know that she wasn't here by choice.
'I'm going to kill you both…' She muttered.
'You've said that so often that it's lost all meaning.' Selma remarked. 'Now shut up!'
Marge stood there for several minutes on end, brushing her hair out of her eyes just so she'd have something to do as she waited. The mist poured in over the river, rendering her unable to see anyone on the other side.
'Please come…' She whispered. 'Please…'
A shadow in the mist approached her, and upon getting closer it revealed itself to be the silhouette of a little boat. There was a person steering it, and she peered closer in an attempt to identify it. Once the boat emerged from the mist and neared the dock, the person turned out to be a young man dressed up a bit like a sea captain. For a moment, Marge worried that this guy was 'Elvis Jagger', but then she realised it was just the boating instructor.
'McAllister?' She said. 'What are you doing here?'
McAllister pointed to the front of his ship with his wooden pipe. 'Thar boy's right there, luv.'
And now Marge noticed 'Elvis Jagger' himself.
And her heart stopped. He was simply adorable.
He had a lovely soft face with deep brown eyes, and scruffy brown hair to match, wearing an orange shirt too. Such a cutie, in fact, that she hardly noticed the eyepatch that he donned. Now why did he have such an epic piece of clothing? Did he lose an eye in some sort of fistfight? Did a wild animal claw it right out? Or did he just stab himself in the eye by mistake? Each possibility had a brilliant story behind it, whether awesome or funny.
She beamed. 'Elvis Jagger! It's you!'
Elvis Jagger looked confused for a moment, as though he forgot his own name, before smiling and saying, 'Oh, right. That's me!'
He hopped off the boat and onto the dock, approaching her slowly. She could tell by his fluttering fingers that he must've been a little nervous, and she didn't really blame him.
'This is my first date,' She said. 'So… I'm not sure how to start it.'
Elvis Jagger laughed nervously. 'Well, y-you probably know more than me. I know nothing.'
'How 'bout yeh sit over there?' McAllister said, pointing to a lovely clearing on a small hill. 'Yeh'd get a lovely view of tha river!'
Since neither kid had any idea how to do a proper date, they followed the captain's advice and sat just where he pointed. The view of the river was indeed as gorgeous as ever, but Marge and Elvis spent a long time just staring at it and not saying a thing. Marge wasn't sure what to say, and waited for Elvis to make the first move, like the boys always did in the movies she had watched.
Is he going to do anything?
Suddenly, Elvis yawned quite loudly and placed his arm over her shoulders. It made her heart skip a beat. Was this what Selma was talking about when she rambled about her twenty crushes? But that was least of her concerns.
He's yawning? Why is he yawning? Oh no, I must be boring him! Quick, think of something to say!
'Do you like music?' She asked, speaking a little quicker than usual. 'Cos I like music. Like, a lot! Music is great, isn't it? Do you have a favourite band? Oh, I can't choose!'
She rambled on for quite a bit longer, trying to keep his attention. If there was any time she wanted her sisters to pop out and interrupt everything, it was now.
'I…' Elvis said, providing a good enough interruption. 'Uh… um…'
'Yes?' She asked.
The boy's eyes darted back and forth, clearly unsure about what to say next. She had to admit, she found it kinda cute. Something about awkward boys with next-to-no social skills was oddly adorable for her, compared to Selma who seemed to prefer more conventionally attractive boys. And especially in contrast to Patty, who seemingly preferred girls for reasons Marge didn't understand.
'BOCK-BOCK-BOCK!' Elvis said, randomly making chicken noises for absolutely no good reason.
'Are you making chicken noises?' Marge asked, unable to say much more.
He yelped, gaining an octave. 'Uh… n-no…'
He is one of the strangest kids I've ever met… and I think I like it! He's so… unique! Come on, Marge, you know you wanna!
Just like she knew she wanted to, she gave him a little peck on the lips. She knew he loved it when his jaw went wide open and his cheeks flushed.
'Did… did you just…?' He asked, otherwise speechless.
She gave him a sly smile. 'I did. You're a weird kid, Elvis… and I love it.'
He blushed. 'Y-You like me for me? Wow, I didn't think that would ever happen!'
She frowned. 'Why not?'
He looked to the ground and sighed. 'No one at school likes me…'
Her heart sank. Alas, she couldn't say she was all too surprised. A kid who made chicken noises randomly was bound to be made fun of by the other kids, unfortunately. Knowing he must've gone through something like that made her love him that little bit more.
'But I do!' She said.
And then she brought him in for another kiss. It wasn't a little peck this time, however. No, she planted her lips upon his and kissed with all of her might. It was her first one, and she was gonna make it good, dang it! Elvis returned it in a heartbeat, and it must've been one of the most passionate kisses either child had ever seen.
'WOO-HOO!' Selma cheered. 'She did it!'
'Yay, I guess?' Patty said, still not certain about this kid.
How miraculous it seemed that her first ever kiss was so perfect. It was just as satisfying as a million cards tucked neatly into the correctly-sized envelopes. If not more so. It took awhile for the passion to finally end.
'Will I see you again tomorrow?' She asked.
'Absolutely!' Elvis replied. 'For my name isn't… um… whatever it was I said.'
She couldn't help giggling. He was so socially awkward that it wrapped around to being absolutely adorable!
'I-I should probably get going soon…' Elvis said, standing up. 'I-I don't know how long that captain guy will wait for me…'
'Same place tomorrow night?' Marge asked.
He nodded. 'Yep! I would love to!'
He turned around to leave, but stopped after just a single step, as though an idea just jumped into his head. Swiftly, he turned around and pulled out a little rock from his pocket.
'Hey, I found this rock earlier today.' He said, kneeling down. 'I was gonna smash some jerks with it, but…' He smiled. 'I want you to have it.'
'Aw, thank you!' Marge said, taking the rock from him.
She held it with both her hands, and got a good look at it. It was perfectly smooth, aside from a few bumps, and - most amazingly of all - it was shaped just like a heart.
'Aw!' She said. 'It's shaped just like a heart!'
'Wait, it is?'
Elvis snatched it out of her hand, and looked at it closer. For a moment, Marge worried he was going to take the rock and run away with it, leaving her with nothing and ruining her night. But, the moment he glanced at her sad face, he handed it back to her.
'You can keep it.' He said. 'It's special! Just like you.'
'Thank you again, Elvis!' She stood up, giving him one last lovely kiss. 'I have to get going now, or my sisters will worry. I can't wait to see you again!'
As she walked back to her side of the camp, she couldn't stop looking at this adorable heart-shaped rock. It had to be a sign of their true love. It had to be! It was almost like Sleeping Beauty, and the love-at-first-sight magic between Aurora and Philip. She had barely made it back to camp when…
'YOU DID IT!'
Selma jumped out from behind a bush and gave Marge a massive hug. The little one nearly dropped the rock in surprise from such an abrupt embrace.
'Alright, alright.' Patty said, emerging from behind a tree. 'You can let her go now. Unless you want to snap her spine.'
The blonde twin let her little sister go, though she didn't give Marge any more personal space either.
'I can't believe it!' She said, squealing just a little. 'Your first date went even better than any of my first dates ever did!'
'That's not a surprise.' Patty remarked.
'Shut up. I could feel the chemistry from the bushes, and when he gave you that heart-shaped rock… I knew it was meant to be!'
The redhead twin groaned. 'You can't be serious. That boy started making chicken noises for no reason! He isn't, you know… normal.'
Selma gave her a look. 'Well, neither are you, but I still spend every moment of my life dealing with you and your stupidity. So…'
Patty clenched her fists, but otherwise said nothing and just gave her sister a nasty glare.
'Now, Marge, remember,' Selma said. 'If this boy comes back and loves you more, then he's a keeper! But,' Her smile dropped. 'If he stands you up - OH HO - he's in for a bad time!'
Marge gave her a nervous smile. 'Uh, thanks?'
Come the next night - after the most agonisingly slow day she had in months - Marge got done up like Selma requested (the same way as before) and went to the same spot. Standing right where she had sat down the previous night, she took the heart-shaped rock out of her pocket and stared at it closer.
'It must be a sign that we're meant to be…' She murmured. 'There's no other way…'
A couple minutes went by, past the time Elvis was supposed to arrive, but she didn't get mad at all yet. After all, he didn't need to arrive exactly on time, and there was a good chance the clocks over at Camp See-a-Tree ran a little slowly. Her attention fell onto a nearby tree, where someone had already left a little heart-shaped carving. In curiosity, she approached this little wooden heart and peered at it closer.
She recognised this kind of heart from a few movies she had seen - the loving couple signify their passion for one another by carving a heart in a tree and putting their initials into it. This time, the tree read 'SS+EM', initials that Marge couldn't recognise. Seeing as Elvis was late, she lifted up the rock with both hands and jabbed it into the tree. It took a lot of her strength to pierce the tree's hard bark - evidently, it was a lot harder than the movies made it seem. Still, she chipped at the wood with all her might, not stopping for a moment (aside to give her poor arms a rest).
After who knew how much time, she had finished her little carving. It was a heart, of course, though not one as good as the one 'SS+EM' managed to create. Within the heart were the initials of the newest couple: 'MB+EJAJ'. What an odd name that kid had… Another carved heart caught her attention, on the other side of the tree; must've been a fairly popular dating place. This one read 'SB+NG', and Marge had a pretty good idea who 'SB' could've been.
'She's been trying for so long…' Marge said. 'Why can't she stay in a relationship yet?'
Happy with her creation, she sat down with her back leaned up against the tree.
And waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Slowly, over the course of who knew how long, her smile dropped and her hope faded away. But still, she stayed there.
And waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Their arranged meeting time had arrived so long ago, but still no sign of Elvis and his adorable little eyepatch. Marge tucked her legs to her chest, and rested her head on her knees. Her lips quivered as she tried not to cry, knowing her sisters would be watching.
From the bushes, Selma gasped. 'That… that… jerk! He gave her this pretty little heart-shaped rock, and then he has the gall to stand her up! How could he?!'
Patty simply sighed. 'I knew we shouldn't have gotten our hopes too high.'
The twins, slowly and quietly, approached their little sister. Selma, too, was beginning to tear up at the sight, though Patty vehemently refused to do the same. Marge hardly reacted to their presence at all.
'Marge?' Selma called, getting down on one knee. 'Are you okay?'
Patty groaned. 'Uh huh. That's a question that definitely needs asking.'
Marge wiped her eyes, and stood up. No matter how hard she may have tried to hide it, she couldn't help crying just a little. If it wasn't for the camp she had to return to, she'd break down crying in a heartbeat.
'Your first heartbreak…' Selma muttered. 'I've been through more of those than I can count. I can help you get through this one if you want.'
Marge shook her head. 'I-I just want to go back to camp.'
Selma gave her a short smile. 'Alright, if that's what you want.'
So, the twins took their little sister back to the camping area, where all the other girls waited. Patty wasn't showing it, all for the sake of Marge, but it cannot be overstated just how furious she was at this boy. How dare he break her little sister's heart!
'What did I do wrong…?' Marge muttered, barely keeping herself together.
'Nothing!' Selma yelled. 'Absolutely nothing! It was all the fault of that idiot little boy. I thought he was nice too, until he went ahead and did that. You're a brilliant little girl, and don't let anyone tell you different.'
Marge wanted to be happy. It was the first time in years that Selma had said such nice things about her. But how could she be happy after dealing with such a heartbreak?
She glanced back at the heart-shaped rock in her hands again. So, she was wrong. It wasn't a sign of true love… She should've known, seeing as Elvis had tried to get the rock back from her once he realised it was shaped like a heart. Now that was a sign she should've listened to.
By the time Marge and her sisters returned to the cabin, all the girls were waiting to hear about this date too. They had been so excited the night before, and they were all - Helen especially - ready to hear about the juicy details. Marge was barely keeping herself together, and really just wanted to get back to her room where she could let it all out in privacy, but the other girls demanded details.
'So, how did it go?' Helen asked, practically squealing. 'Did he kiss you again? Did he ask for another date? Did he show you what's underneath that eyepatch of his?'
'I bet he's already coming up with adorable names for your future kids!' Luanne said. 'Personally, I've always been a little fond of Milhouse.'
Marge couldn't answer. There was no way she could focus on keeping herself together and answering the question at the same time.
So, Selma answered for her. 'He stood her up.'
The Bouviers expected at least a little sympathy from the other girls, or at least indifference. So they were shocked - and horrified, in the twins' case - when the girls reacted with roaring laughter.
'I can't believe it!' Luanne said. 'You got stood up!'
'Oh, all the girls at school are going to go crazy over a story like this!' Helen said.
Marge's cheeks went bright red, and she hated the sensation of blood rushing to her face. She tried to keep it in, just a little bit longer, but she just couldn't handle the pressure anymore. With her entire world collapsing around her, she buried her face in her palms and cried the hardest she had since her father died.
And it broke Selma's heart.
'Marge?' She said. 'Marge!'
Unable to handle it anymore, Marge ran down the corridor and threw herself onto one of the bottom bunks. Only then could she let out all of the emotion that had been building up over the last couple of hours at least. And only then did the girls stop laughing. They shuddered when they noticed that Patty had clenched her fists.
'See what you've done?!' She yelled. 'My little sister got stood up by some jerk, and you're laughing about it? I can't believe you people!'
Selma rushed into their room and found her little sister crying her eyes out onto her pillow. The blonde could only sit on the bed with her, having no other idea of what she could possibly do. But she did know one thing…
When she met this Billy Bob, or Elvis, or Homer, or whatever his dumb name was, she was going to make him pay for breaking her sister's heart.
Marge decided to give Elvis Jagger one last chance. Maybe - just maybe - something had caught him up. So, she asked to use the camp's only phone to call the other side of the camp. The voice she received was not of Elvis or the Camp Counsellors, but instead some other kid with a voice that screamed 'sleazy' to all three Bouvier sisters.
'What d'ya want?' This kid demanded, sounding more irritated than truly angry.
Marge twirled the cable around her finger. 'H-Hi, this is Marge. Can you hand this call over to a boy named Elvis Jagger Abdul-Jabbar, please?'
Unaware to her, the kid gave the phone an indignant look. 'Elvis Ja- what is this, some sort of prank call?! If you think I'm going to be fooled by fake names, I'm going to stuff you so full of bees that they'll be flying out of your ears!'
And he hung up immediately after his bizarre but terrifying threat. Marge docked the phone again, hardly able to hold it any longer.
'Well?' Selma said. 'What happened?'
Marge whimpered. 'It wasn't him… that wasn't even his real name!'
She fell to the ground and cried her eyes out, for it was all her poor heart could do in this situation. Selma, without missing a beat, knelt down and brought her little sister into her arms. What was it about a child crying that activated some sort of 'maternal instinct' within her, while most other girls (her twin included) seemed more annoyed than anything? The question did not bother her, and she simply held her sister as though she was her daughter.
'That's boys for you.' Patty said. 'Don't even give you a real name. I bet his real name was Homer.'
'I don't care what his real name was!' Selma yelled. 'If I ever see him again, he is going to pay.'
'I never got the appeal of boys anyway. Girls seem… prettier.'
Selma flashed her an odd look, though only for a moment before she put her focus back on Marge. It didn't make Patty feel anymore comfortable with her strange feelings that seemingly no one else - except for maybe that Debra girl, from years ago - had, but that was the least of their worries.
'Now what?' The redhead asked. 'This camp is kinda trash as it is, but how are you supposed to enjoy what little there is when your heart's broken?'
Selma scoffed. 'As if you know anything about heartbreak.'
'Stuff like this happens, and you wonder why I don't like boys!'
While another small fight broke out between the twins, Marge pulled out the heart-shaped rock from her pocket. Just looking at it made the tears fall harder. How could such a sure sign misfire so badly? How could that boy - whatever his real name was - stand her up so cruelly after all the love and passion they had between each other?
She couldn't stand to see that rock anymore. Without thinking, she tossed it as hard as she could, not caring about the direction. It could've conked one of her sisters on the head, and she wouldn't have noticed. It slammed directly into another rock, and the force was enough to crack it right down in the middle. Patty's morbid curiosity was piqued, so she took a look at what remained of the 'special' rock - it had cracked right in half, in a manner rather appropriate for its shape.
'Geez…' She muttered. 'If I hadn't seen it before my very eyes, I'd call this some sort of on-the-nose metaphor from a movie. But, there it is.'
'Typical.' Selma said. 'That rock was just like that boy… pathetic.'
'Hey, I hate that boy too, but don't you think you're-?'
'Oh, because you know so much about going too far, Miss Stabbed-Me-With-a-Turkey-Fork!'
'Look, that lady handed me that joke on a silver platter. I didn't mean to hurt you!'
As bizarre as it would've sounded to anyone but the youngest Bouvier herself, it comforted Marge to hear her sisters bickering. It reminded her of home, and gave her the predictable reality she was used to. When her sisters fought, she knew what would happen. Not so much with dating…
Marge broke free from her sister's grasp and walked over to the broken rock. It was such a fitting metaphor, you'd think a writer came up with it. After wiping her eyes, she picked up one half of the rock and held it close to her chest.
'You wanna keep that rock?!' Selma cried. 'WHY?!'
'Because…' Marge choked back a sob. 'I-I don't want to forget what boys can do to me. I want to remember that I never want to go through this again.'
Patty growled. 'Oh great. Now that boy's ruined any chance of our sister ever trying again!'
'It's a shame.' Selma said. 'Boys are really cute.'
'THIS IS NOT THE TIME FOR YOUR HORMONES!'
Marge had to admit, it was almost tempting to stay at the camp, so she could hear her sisters bicker some more. Yet, she could see the spot where she met 'Elvis Jagger' right from where she was standing, and the mere sight was almost enough to make her cry again. She cringed at the thought of going to the dining room, where the seemingly-nice boy had returned her retainer to her.
He seemed so nice to begin with. How could he turn out to be so awful?
And how could she trust any other boy?
'I-I don't think I can stay here any longer.' She said, about to cry more but managing to keep it in. 'E-Everything's going to remind me of… him. I can't handle it.'
Selma gave her another quick hug. 'If that's what you want to do, then do it. We'll call up Mom, and she'll take you home.'
'You mean us, right?' Patty asked.
The blonde shook her head. 'We were signed up as assistants, remember? We can't go home until we finish up our two weeks.'
Patty groaned, loudly. 'Are you kidding me?! First our sister's heart is broken so much that she wants to go home, and then we're STUCK HERE?!'
'Frankly, I think she needs the time alone. A first heartbreak is never easy to get over.'
That night, Marge packed her suitcases. The other girls asked her why she was leaving so early (as if they cared), but she just couldn't answer them. Even her clothes packed away in her suitcase looked too much like the boy, and she had to completely rearrange it a few times until she was comfortable with it. She could overhear Helen saying she was going to spread this to all her friends too.
As if Marge needed that.
So, it wasn't a surprise to anyone when Jacqueline showed up the next day to pick up her youngest daughter, with a seventy-percent refund in her future. Marge couldn't even give the camp one last look, and - glancing at her half of the heart stone - she climbed aboard her mother's car and cried even harder than she had before. Because now, she was alone, free to let it all out as much as she wanted.
As they watched the car leave the camp, leaving them both behind, the twins immediately pulled out a couple of cigarettes and lit them.
'Finally…' Patty muttered. 'We went almost five minutes without one of these.'
'As if watching our sister go through hell wasn't bad enough…' Selma added.
If only Marge stayed at the camp for just five minutes more, or she would've seen 'Elvis Jagger' running up to her as fast as his aching legs could carry him…
Author Notes - Being honest, I do kinda see the episode as a bit tragic. While everything turns out alright in the end, it is a tragedy that Homer broke Marge's heart by complete accident, and it seems like it affected the both of them horribly. Now, Homer has yet another guilt complex and Marge can never trust a boy again. Since my story is essentially taking the episodes and peeling away the jokes to expose the darkness within (could I have made that sound any cheesier?), it really shows me how sad the whole thing really is. If only the writing in the episode supported it.
I won't lie, a lot of Patty and Selma's snarky remarks were my own while re-watching the episode so I could write this chapter. I've already mentioned that this episode wasn't nearly as good as I remembered it as a kid, but some of the lines of dialogue are kinda just... what?!
Next time is another time skip, but only about a year. Because, erm, something very interesting happened to Homer when he was twelve.
