Note: I don't own the copyrights to the "Simpsons" characters, but the characters unique to this fanfic are my creations. So don't steal credit for them! Also, this story was made without any intent to make money. So if you own copyrights to the "Simpsons" characters, please don't sue me.

WAYLON GETS FIRED? by Silvertide

On an ordinary weekday morning of the Springfield Nuclear Power Plant, Waylon Smithers marched to work like he always did. Well, not exactly. For the past few weeks his workload as personal assistant to the owner of the power plant had fallen because of new employees doing some of his old duties. A beautiful young woman, Mabel Kitchner, whom Waylon had grown fond of, was hired as an assistant intern to him. The owner, C. Montgomery Burns, had also grown fond of Miss Kitchner and she was recently given the job of driving him to the plant in addition to other tasks Waylon used to do. Another woman, an Andrea Giarrusso, was hired to take over Waylon's phone duties. This woman went out of her way to make Mabel and Waylon look bad to Mr. Burns, and she was always asking for a promotion. Waylon missed being around Burns as much as he used to, and he wished that the two new employees would just go away.

Waylon walked down the hallway leading to Mr. Burns' office and opened the doors into Burns' room, but was surprised to find the lights turned off. It was early morning. The sun was resting low in the sky, casting a dim light into the room. The desk and chair of Burns created dark silhouettes in front of the windows of the room which let in the light of the sun.

"Mr. Burns? Are you in here?" called out Waylon.

"I-I'm right h-here Sm-Smithers," replied Burns with a trembling voice. The dark outline in front of the office windows changed as he got up from his seat.

"What's wrong Mr. Burns? Your voice, it's- are you okay?"

"Oh. I've n-never been better Smithers. Everything is just fine now," said Burns as he walked toward Waylon.

"Mr. Burns, where's Mabel? Shouldn't she be here watching over you? And why is the room so dark?"

"Mabel had to go run an errand for me, maybe you can go help her. She's in room C-18, could you turn around and see if she needs any help? It would help me a great deal if you did that right this instant." said Burns as he calmed down.

"C-18? That's the main security room, why would you send Mabel over there for?"

"You idiot! You should have went over there instead of saying that out loud!" shrieked Burns.

Waylon suddenly heard Mabel's voice screaming out from behind him, "Run Waylon! Run now! Save yourself!"

The sound of metal clicking made Burns suddenly tremble and when Waylon turned around looking to the corner of the room, he saw Andrea Giarrusso holding a gun to Mabel Kitchner's head. "Stay right where you are or the girl gets it," threatened Giarrusso.

Burns slapped Waylon on the head and said, "Dammit Smithers! You could have saved us, instead you blundered our only chance!"

"Oh my God! Mabel!" exclaimed Waylon.

"You ruined things for the last time Smithers! You're fired!" screamed Burns.

"No! Please don't fire me!" begged Waylon as he got on his knees.

"Stop that," yelled Burns as he slapped Waylon on the head again, "Do you want to get yourself killed too?"

Giarrusso shoved Mabel toward Waylon and Burns. Mabel fell to her knees, got up and said, "Waylon! Giarrusso's really a corporate spy! She was trying to get close to Mr. Burns to steal company secrets, but I found out and warned him. Now she's threatening to kill Mr. Burns if he doesn't do as she says!"

Without hesitation, Waylon immediately got in between Giarrusso and Burns. "I might not work for Burns anymore, but you'll have to go through me first."

"Okay. Then I'll just kill you and then make Burns talk," said the spy.

"No!" screamed Mabel as she rushed in between Waylon and the gun. As Giarrusso fired, Mabel got in the way and took the shot in the back.

"Mabel!" screamed out Waylon as he rushed to Mabel's side. Sounds of foot steps echoed from the hallway outside. Giarrusso sped out the door, making her escape as several security guards made chase behind her.

Mabel lay in Waylon's arms as she gasped her last breaths, a trickle of blood escaping the corner of her mouth. "Waylon," whispered Mabel, "I love you."

In a darkened room, bed sheets were violently tossed aside, a man awoke from a what was just a nightmare, and Waylon Smithers screamed out; "No! Mabel! I love you too! Don't die now-" Waylon found himself looking at the ceiling of a dark room. He sat up and felt something stream down his face. It touched his mouth, his tongue tasted a salty sorrow. Unable to return to sleep, he groaned and stretched his arm out toward a lamp.

Lights suddenly switched on, illuminating the inside of a messy apartment. Waylon put on his glasses and checked the time; it was a little after two in the morning. Groggy, the tired man slowly got out of bed, all the while considering what his dream really meant to him. With the way Giarrusso treated him, it was no surprise she was a villain in his cheap melodramatic drama of a dream, and the way he stepped in front of Burns was exactly what he would have done even a decade ago. The last image of his dream came back to him every time he closed his eyes. Waylon staggered into his kitchen trying to keep his eyes open.

Half a dozen hours later, Waylon reported in to work. At that time of the workday, he usually would have already reported to Burns' office. But he decided that seeing Mabel and Burns in the same room together would have been too much for him. Waylon managed through the front doors of the power plant, but he could not bring himself to make it to Burns' office. Tired from lack sleep, he struggled to keep his eyes open as he wobbled into an employee break room.

An overweight lower level employee was gorging himself with doughnuts and coffee. Waylon ignored him as he sat at a table and collapsed into his arms. The employee, a Homer Simpson from sector 7-G, noticed Waylon at the table, but ignored him and continued eating. Barely audible over his chewing, there was a muffled sobbing noise. After a few minutes, Homer could no longer stand to hear it.

"Hey Smithers! Could you keep it down? I'm trying to eat here."

Waylon lifted his head slightly and with a sniff he said, "Sorry, I- (sob) didn't mean to- (sob)-"

"Hey are you crying Smithers? Did Burns finally fire you?"

"No- (sob) he- he-"

"He what Smithers?"

Waylon stuttered and sobbed hysterically. "He- (sob) She- (sob)," Waylon put his head back on the table crying. Homer gave up, turning back to eating doughnuts.

Two other employees walked into the break room, one in a green shirt, the other in light blue jacket. The one in a blue jacket noticed Waylon crying at one of the break room tables. He pointed at Waylon and said, "Hey Homer, why's Waylon crying over here? Did he get the pink slip or something?"

"Yeah," said the employee in a green shirt, "What happened? Did Burns decide Smithers didn't kiss enough of his scrawny behind and finally fire him?"

"I don't know, don't look at me." replied Homer.

"Well pass me a double-glazed before you eat them all," said the employee in a blue jacket, "I need a sugary snack boost before my next shift.

"Sure thing Carl," said Homer passing a doughnut to the employee in a blue jacket.

"You want one Lenny?" asked Carl, turning to his green-clad companion, "If you don't get one now, you'll have to take them out of Homer's stomach later."

"Hey! Are you trying to say I eat too much?"

"Why no Homer," said Carl as he nervously scratched his head, "I'm just saying that uh- you could, ah-"

"Just say it Carl," said Lenny, "Homer. You're too fat."

"No I'm not, I'm just big boned! Why are you being so mean Lenny?" asked Homer as he looked like he were about to cry.

"Now look what you've done, he's going cry now." said Carl.

Homer sobbed hysterically and cried on Carl's shoulder.

"Dammit Homer, I called you fat yesterday and you didn't cry then." said Lenny.

"It must be that time of the month again," said Carl, "There there Homer, Carl's here to make sure you're all right."

"Gosh Homer, I'm really sorry," apologized Lenny, "Here, have another fudge doughnut."

Waylon pulled his head out of arms, watching Lenny and Carl try to comfort Homer. He frowned and interrupted their apologies. "Doesn't anybody care why I'm crying? I might be out of a job tomorrow, all that fat man has to worry about tomorrow is running out of doughnuts to eat. We've been coworkers for years, doesn't that mean anything?"

When Waylon mentioned running out of doughnuts Homer began crying louder. Frowning, Carl replied "Nobody cares about you Smithers. You've been nothing but a pain in our necks for years, why would it matter if you get fired or not?."

"Yeah," chimed in Lenny, "The only guy who even liked you was Mr. Burns, and that was only because you kissed his ass so much."

"Obviously," said Carl, "You must not have been kissing it enough, I heard that hot dame is gonna replace you."

"Do you mean Mabel?" asked Waylon.

"Mabel Kitchner? Oh she sure is hot, I didn't know she's replacing Smithers as the top boot-licker," said Lenny.

"No, I mean that other hot dame, Andrea Giarrusso," said Carl.

Waylon stood up, wiping away his tears. He marched right up to Carl and grabbed him by his light blue jacket collars said, "Andrea Giarrusso is not going to replace me."

"But that's what Andrea keeps telling every-"

Before Lenny could finish talking, Waylon grabbed him by his shirt collar. Gripping both of their collars, Waylon Smithers said, "Andrea Giarrusso is not going to replace me. I don't care what she says. It's not happening."

"But she said-"

"What did I just say, Lenny?" glared Waylon.

"He said it ain't gonna happen." said Carl.

"That's right Mr. Carlson, Andrea Giarrusso is not going to replace me. Now tell me more about what Giarrusso has been saying about me."

It was morning in the office of C. Montgomery Burns. With the sun set low in the sky, long shadows stretched across the carpeted floor of the spacious room. All was quiet. Nothing stirred atop the grand desk. A small black silhouette sat upon the darkly shadowed chair. No sound was heard in the still silence of that space until a creak whined from two big double doors. Then duo wooden doors boomed open, letting in a long shaft of light that cut long shadows short. C. Montgomery Burns, with his interning assistant Mabel Kitchner at his side, hobbled into the room. Slowly, with small short shuffles of old feet, Burns walked to his grand desk. Burns stood before it, facing a dark form seated on the chair behind it. Mabel turned on the light, a small stuffed bear was clearly seen seated on the chair.

"Ah, Bobo. I see you've done a splendid job guarding my fine throne," said Burns as he shuffled around his desk and picked up his bear.

"Mr. Burns? We need to talk," said Mabel very nervously.

"What is there to talk about my dear?" asked Burns as he sat on his chair.

"You have been a great boss, but-"

"But what, sweet buttercup?" asked Burns as he stroked Mabel's hand.

"That!" exclaimed Mabel, pulling her hand back, "That is what we need to talk about."

"What?"

"I know that you are very strongly attracted to me-"

"And you secretly to me, but one day you will admit the truth and we-"

"No. I am sorry to be the one who tells you this, but I am not attracted to you."

"Oh but of course you are. You absolutely adore me-"

"I absolutely hate you," mumbled Mabel under her breath

"What was that?"

"Um, I mean- uh, well it's like this-" said Mabel stumbling for words.

"There's someone else, isn't there?" asked Burns with a suspicious look.

Andrea Giarrusso sat at her desk in front of Burns' office. She wore a short, but somehow professional-looking skirt with a red blouse. Curly brown hair hung from head. Thin-framed glasses were worn around her eyes. She leaned back in her chair, and stretched her legs out on the table. With assorted stacks of paper and a telephone before her, she filed her nails ignoring various calls on hold. Totally preoccupied with her loafing on company time, Waylon Smithers marched up to Giarrusso's desk without her notice until he was a few feet away from the doors of Mr. Burns' office.

"Hey," shouted Giarrusso as she got to her feet and blocked the doors with her body, arms stretched out wide, "You can't go in there, Burns is in an important meeting."

"Out of my way Giarrusso," demanded Waylon, "I'm going in whether you like it or not. All you're in charge of is answering the telephone."

"I'll be in charge of more than that after Burns fires you!"

"I have been working with Monty for years, he'll never fire me."

"Don't be so sure about that, Waylon."

"Stuff the attitude before I tell Burns to fire you, Andrea."

"Like what you say matters to him anymore."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Your time is over, Waylon. It's time for better employees to take charge of things."

"Get out of my way."

"And what if I don't? What are you going to do about-?"

Waylon shoved Giarrusso aside, knocking her to the floor. Putting his hands to the handles, he quietly pushed the two office doors. As the doors silently opened to a thin line, Waylon heard Mabel and Burns starting to argue. He stopped himself from opening the doors all the way and he decided to listen in. Giarrusso got up and tried to push Waylon away, but she stopped to listen in as well.

"Mr. Burns," scolded Mabel, "I am sick and tired of your sexual harassment!"

"Of course you are," winked Burns as he caressed Mabel's cheek.

"Of course I'm not!" screamed Mabel as she slapped Burns' hand away.

"How dare you!" exclaimed Burns as he stood up.

"I'm just going to say it. I hate you."

"What?"

"You heard me. I hate you."

"No, you can't-"

"I hate you. I hate you. I hate-"

"Enough!"

"I can never love you. You are a disgusting, hateful thing that should have died decades ago- with the dinosaurs you were born with!"

"Enough!"

"How could anybody- anything ever love you? I don't understand what Waylon sees in-"

"I said enough! I get the idea," said Burns, turning away from Mabel to gaze out the window.

"So you'll stop hitting on me?"

"Oh yes, I will cease my amorous advances. After I tell your father you played nymphomaniac with every worker at this plant."

"What?"

"Your father will be so disappointed you let yourself go."

"Y- you wouldn't dare- he wouldn't believe-"

"If he doesn't believe me, I'll let him ask the workers- who will say whatever I want them to say."

"They wouldn't lie for you!"

"They will if I threaten to fire them."

"You- you monster! I'll tell him the truth about you!"

"He'd never believe his old mentor would do anything wrong. Would he feel the same way about a young impressionable daughter, fresh out of college?"

"What- what do you want?" asked Mabel with her head held low.

"Given up?"

Mabel nodded meekly.

"I wouldn't ask you to go out with me now, not much sport in winning a lady with a broken spirit. I think I'll keep you as a servant, have you continue on as my assistant."

"But Waylon is supposed to be your assistant, he'd be devastated to lose his position."

"So? I was going to fire him anyway. For weeks, I suspected you refused my advances because you were in love with him. Now I see you also hate me."

"No, I never loved him," lied Mabel, "Please don't fire him. He's a good man- and a good friend. It- it wouldn't be right for him to suffer because of me."

"I'll fire him anyway. First I'll keep him around and torture him as revenge for standing in my way. Then when his spirit is broken- like yours is now, I will fire him."

"But what about all the years of loyal service? Doesn't any of that mean anything to you?"

"I don't care about him! He has been nothing but a well-trained lapdog to me. I only kept him around because none of my other workers are as competent as he is."

"You- you're not human! How could you be so cold-hearted? Waylon is twice the man you are!" sobbed Mabel.

"Twice the man I am? Don't make me laugh! Did you know that on the day your father called me, he had the idiocy to believe I considered him a friend? Me, the great Monty Burns, friends with that pantywaist weakling? Smithers isn't a man, he's a whimpering fool who'll crumple under my heel like all the fools who dared stand in my-"

Waylon could not stand it anymore. The double doors of Burns' office burst open as he marched into the room. He could not hold back his rage at the injustice of Burns' words. For weeks, he felt a building anger toward Mabel, who stood in between him and his career. But after hearing Burns speak of him like he were less than a man, Waylon realized who he should really be angry at.

"Burns! I've had enough!" screamed Waylon.

"Smithers! What are you doing here?" exclaimed Burns.

"So the truth comes out! After all these years of loyal service, you still have no appreciation for the work I have done for you," replied Waylon.

"Appreciation? Anyone could do your job, you're nothing special." said Giarrusso.

"You stay out of this you bit-"

"Quiet Smithers, before I fire you," warned Burns.

"I was a fool. I gave you some of the best years of my life hoping you'd- you'd-"

"I'd what Smithers? Want to be your friend? Ha ha ha!" laughed Burns.

"And then for these past weeks I felt so jealous of Mabel for getting more attention from you. I'm so sorry Mabel, you were nothing but a good friend, you tried to warn me, but-"

"But what?" asked Mabel.

"But I couldn't let myself see the truth that has been staring at me all these years. A truth I realized just now."

"What is it?" asked Mabel.

Suddenly, Waylon turned to Burns and screamed into his face: "You are an evil, whithered old man!"

Burns staggered backward, shocked at Waylon's behavior. "Smithers, what are you saying?"

"All these years, I fooled myself into thinking you were a grand visionary who would bring greatness to the world. I thought that devoting my life to you was the best thing I could ever do. Now I realize that I wasted my time. You're nothing more than a selfish old man with too much money."

"How dare you talk to me this way, I-"

Everyone gasped as Waylon slapped Burns before he could finish his sentence.

"You- you slapped me," uttered Burns, completely mortified. "How dare you! Do you want me to fire you?"

Waylon stood in disbelief at what he had just done. Guilt splashed across his face, before a look of determined rage washed it away. "Yes, I do dare! And you're not going to fire me! Not if- not if- not if I quit first!"

"You can't quit! I'll fire you before you-"

Again, Waylon slapped Burns before he could finish his sentence. This time the old man fell to the ground, more astonished than before. Giarrusso rushed to Burns' aid, getting in between him and Waylon.

"Consider that my resignation."

"I will," replied Burns as he staggered to his feet with Giarrusso's help, "Now get out of my sight before I fetch the hounds."

Tears welled up in Waylon's eyes as he looked at Burns pointing to the door. He said goodbye to Mabel as he marched out the door. Waylon kept walking. By Giarrusso's desk. Through the hallway. Down the stairs. Past the breakroom, the workers, the lonely corridors and familiar stairways, and out the front door. Standing outside, simmering with hate, he fully realized what he had just done.

"Oh my God! What have I done?!?" Waylon Smithers cried out and crumpled to the ground sobbing in a fetal position. Mabel Kitchner rushed out the door shortly after, and held Waylon in her arms.