Hit a Homer, Homer!
Author: Alexandria Eisengaurd
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: KFC Please
Author's Notes: I've never written a Simpson's fanfiction. Please don't expect it to be very good, I highly doubt it will be good at all, but just read it anyways. I will use all of my non-existent writing skills to attempt to satisfy my readers. Anyway, I was inspired by this story when I was watching TV and on came a commercial for the red sox movie. In the commercial, Pedro Martinez picks up a phone and says, "Kentucky Fried Chicken, how may I help you?" and bingo! I got an idea for my latest fanfic. I know that Pedro has a habit of getting into fights, so you can just imagine what's going to happen. Anyway, enough of my blabbering, let's cut to the story.
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Homer sat there upon his couch as usual with his can of duff beer clutched within a tight grasp with his right hand. He was your average stereotypical lazy American. He'd go to work everyday, come home, watch TV, go to the bar, come home for dinner, and then he'd go to bed. He surely lived up to the stereotypes. At the moment, he was indulged in one of his favorite past times, watching the good old tube. The football game was on at the time. He went to take a slurp of his duff, when he had noticed none had came out, it was time to call the wife for what she did best.
"Marge!" Homer shouted, "Get me another beer! And while you're at it, can you get me a sandwich?"
"Coming Homie" she replied as she entered the room with a fresh can of duff and a sandwich laid out on a plate.
Homer took both of the items, and began to devour them like a wild beast that hasn't eaten in years would have done. His eyes were locked on the television screen though as he enjoyed his meal. Soon, a commercial came on the television. It was an advertisement for KFC, his second favorite 'restaurant.' He held back on the sandwich for a moment as he watched the ad carefully, and soon drool broke loose.
"Mmm, Kentucky Fried Chicken -- Oh! Look at the little Mexican! Always trying to screw us of our chickens! Or worse...screw our chickens, damn them!" Homer stood up from the couch and entered the chicken to find Marge lecturing Bart on something he had done.
"Now Bart, what did I tell you about throwing cherry bombs into the school toilets?" Marge spoke with anger.
"You said no throwing cherry bombs into the BOYS toilets. So I threw one into the girls," He replied.
"I meant all toilets young man! Now go up into your room!" She yelled.
"Aww, man," He sighed as he exited the kitchen and went upstairs to his room.
"What is it Homie?" Marge questioned.
"Well, I saw this commercial for KFC, and I was wondering - well," Homer glanced around, and then whispered, "If Mexicans work there."
"Of course they do," She answered.
"Damn them Mexicans! DAMN THEM! I'll be back Marge!" Homer said and then left the house to drive down to the nearest KFC.
When he arrived at KFC, he dashed inside and grabbed the clerk by the shirt. He wanted to know the truth behind the employees of KFC.
"Is it true!?" Homer demanded.
"What sir?" The young boy asked.
"Is it true you have a Mexican working for you!?" He questioned.
"Well, yes it is, Mexicans are the majority of the employees in many fast food services," the boy responded.
Homer dropped to his knees with his arms raised in the air, and his face looking upwards as he yelled out a long 'no.' Just as this 'no was being yelled, the KFC commercial came onto a TV that sat in one of the corners near the ceiling. There was the Mexican right along with it.
"What's that mans name?" He asked.
"Pedro Martinez from the Boston Red Sox" the boy said.
"Boston, eh?" Homer spoke as a grin emerged onto his face.
Homer had gotten into his car now and was driving down the road on his way to the house, he'd soon have a new destination, and that place would be Boston, Massachusetts to meet this Pedro Martinez. He would show him where his Mexican butt belonged. He soon got to his house and quickly packed the kids accidentally and thrown them into the back with the unpacked clothes.
"Homer! What are you doing!?" Marge shouted as she unlocked the suite cases and allowed the kids out.
"We're going to Jamaica Marge!" He smiled.
"Jamaica?" Marge raised a brow as she asked.
"No! Who gave you that idea? The Simpsons are going to Boston!" He shoved Marge into the passengers side seat, and closed the back door since the kids were in, then he wandered into the drivers side, and zoomed off.
Since Springfield was located in Massachusetts, the airport wasn't needed; they had decided to drive the entire way. The drive was a long one, but not one long enough to drive Homer more insane than he had already been, but that would only be true if the kids hadn't been sitting in the back seat, annoying him with their whining. The same lines would repeatedly come out, the lines were one of the most popular back seat passengers line.
"Are we there yet!?" the kids said at the same time.
"No!" Homer yelled.
"Are we there yet!?" they said again, and only received the same reply until a few hours later...
"Are we there yet!?" they asked.
"Yes!" Homer shouted in a thrilled tone as he parked his car out front of Fenway Park.
The family exited the car and into Fenway Park Homer charged with the family following close behind. He forgot his purpose of meeting the 'Mexican' but he did know he was hungry, and a 12-piece family meal from KFC sounded pretty damn good at that moment.
"MEXICAN! Show your face!" Homer yelled as he raised his right fist, shaking it in the air.
Pedro Martinez had been on the pitching mound practicing his fastball, and coincidently Homer had stepped onto the home plate. When Pedro threw his fastball, it rammed into Homer right where the sun doesn't shine. Homer bent over and held onto his precious jewels as Pedro ran over to check if he was okay.
"Guys, are you okay? Mr. Snake? Okay, good you're okay. What about your two bouncy balls? Alright, they seem good too," Homer had been looking down his pants to check for any damage.
"Man, are you alright?" Pedro questioned.
"Oh are you asking Mr. Snake or his toys?" Homer asked.
"Yo man, that's sick," Pedro backed away some.
"No, they're healthy," Homer smiled as he responded.
"No! I mean YOUR sick," Pedro said, "Why are you here anyway?"
"I'm looking for this Mexican, Pedro Martinez," He said.
"I'm Pedro Martinez, but I'm not Mexican," Pedro replied.
"Then take off your mask you cracka!" Homer said as he went to grab Pedro's nose to try and pull off his 'mask.'
"DAMN MAN! IT'S NOT A MASK! GET THE HELL AWAY ME!" Pedro said when he whacked Homer's hand away and backed off some more.
"Then you are a Mexican! Mexican give me my 12-piece meal" said Homer.
"I'm not a Mexican! I'm a Dominican! And I won't give your stinkin' 12-piece meal! I don't know what the hell you are talking about!" Pedro said in response.
"GIVE IT! I WANT MY KFC MEAL! YOU ASKED IN THE COMMERCIAL IF YOU CAN HELP ME! YOU CAN! GIVE ME MY 12-PIECE MEAL!" Homer screamed as he shook his left fist.
"Oh you wanna fight bitch? Just ask Zimmer what I did to him, silly little pussy," Pedro growled.
"Ah! Marge! Help me! The Dominican is threatening to give me only a kids meal!" and with that, Homer ran off to Marge, and ended this encounter with the Dominican.
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Author's Notes: Should I continue this fanfic or not? I have plenty of ideas to continue it with. Reviews are appreciated, but if you don't want to, oh well. Just tell me whether to continue or not and I'll be satisfied like you wouldn't believe. -Kristy/Alexandria Eisengaurd