The Party
Ding! Ding! Ding!
"Hey! Shut-up! I'm tryin' to make a toast here!" Homer yelled. The hall became silent.
"Thank you. Ahem. Twenty five years ago, give or take, my son Bart was born. Since then, my wife and I have faced disaster after disaster. He was expelled, arrested, shot at, nearly murdered several times, and lead many an underage insurrection. Our doctor said that our life expectancies would drop exponentially, whatever that means, each year he remained under our roof. We thought he would end up a convict, bum or drifter, so you can imagine the how happy we were when he became co-DJ with Jessica. Twelve years before, he had met Jessica, and at the time, both seemed to be on the fast trains to nowhere. They became sweethearts, if only briefly, due to some petty theft charges. After two years working together, their long-dormant attraction became love. That love was latter tested, and strengthened, by the mysterious event of last Fall which I have sworn not to divulge. With help from my daughter Lisa, her friend Brian Callahan, and the local group 'Ravin'', they formed a band. And with help from my old friend 'Weird Al' Yankovic, who once saved Marge and me's marriage, and Danny Elfman and Tim Burton, their first record was a hit, and their music video on VH1 wowed millions. And now, here they are, on the beginning of the crazed rocket ride that is marriage, and all I can say is 'Jess, he's all yours!' Thank you." And he passed out on the table.
'Weird Al' stood up, and rose a glass.
"I'd just like to say how happy I am to see Bart and Jessica today, happily married. And I'd be wrong to take all the credit for their success. I mean, sure, I got them some interviews, but Elfman over here helped out with that too, and let them cover some of his best songs for their first album. Also, I'm very happy for their success, as there are very few groups of their calibre out there nowadays. Plus, more new songs means more parodies!"
"Mazel tov!"
"You guys are great, all of you. Bart an' Jess, but also Bri and Lisa, Burke, Cho, Mac, al of you. You're just great. You guys proudly follow in the footsteps of Oingo Boingo, pushing the boundaries of rock and pop, mainstream and cult, originality and weirdness. I wish you at least as many years as Boingo got-seventeen!-or at least comparable wealth and success focussed into a shorter period of time."
"Yeah!"
"I'll drink to that!" called Mac.
Another guest arrived. It was Sting. He walked in, waved aside all the cheering, and took his place at the guest table.
"C'mon Sting, a toast! Toast!"
"Okay. I'd just like to congratulate the newlyweds on their marriage, and wish them a long, happy life together. May they always be successful in their music, but may their success always enhance, not interfere, with their love. And may you never take a movie role that you'll regret and be haunted by forever-case in point, my playing 'Feyd Rautha', the Baron Harkonen's contemptible boy-toy, in 'Dune'."
Applause.
Billy Idol was quite drunk when it came time for him to toast. All he could manage was to stand up raise a fist and say, "I love youse two! Rock on!"
Brian rose. He was fairly composed. He rose his glass of champagne.
"I wish the newlyweds nothing but happiness. May they continue to grow in love and understanding, and, should God bless them with children, may their love only multiply. Bart, Jess, you two are the coolest. I love you both. God bless."
Everyone drank and toasted and ate. Brian returned from the buffet with seconds. Lisa looked at his plate and frowned.
"C'mon, darling. The animals' are already dead. It would be an insult to their sacrifice not to enjoy the flesh they sacrificed for us."
She continued to frown. Fifteen years of strict vegetarianism had left her unable to stand the very sight of animal flesh.
"Lisa, if everyone went vegetarian, all the ranchers would lose all their money and be unable to support their families. And all the animals would have to be euthanized, as most meat animals have been bred so they are unable to live on their own. They've been bred to grow, and at a point, they get slaughtered. If not, they continue to grow-"
"Brian…please, not here. Not now."
He looked at her. His eyes grew so sad. Lisa felt torn between her love for him, and her belief that meat was pure and simple murder.
"I'm sorry Lisa. You know I love you."
"I know. I love you, Brian, but I-"
"And I love you enough to forgo both meat and this argument-for today, if not forever."
"Wha-?"
"That's right," he said, taking his plate and half-standing. He looked up the family table at Homer. "Homer, you want the rest of this?"
"Hmm? Whatya got?"
"Meat ravioli, veal parmagiani, and chicken al forno."
"Pass it over."
"Artie, could you hand this over to him?"
"Sure thing."
"So, Artie, how ya' doin'?"
"Well, its been difficult, you know. I could my sentence cut, so I got out in only five years. Five was punishment enough! Oy! Don't even make me remember! Where was I? Oh yes, I got a job at a local internet service, and I do some work on the side as a troubleshooter. I hack, sometimes, just for fun. I once got some guy's computer to send ten thousand dollars straight to my-oh crap, the cops!"
Ralph, Eddie Junior, and Lou Junior walked by.
"Hi Lisa! Hi Mr. Lisa! We're here for the party!"
"Hi Ralph! Heh heh. How are you and Celeste?"
"Celeste is the Ephalant in Babar's wife! Ephalants are huggy!"
"Yeah, sure."
"Okay boys, to the buffet! And then the open bar!"
"Whatever you say chief."
Lisa shook her head. "I can not believe I used to go out with him."
Brian raised an eyebrow. "You went out with Ralph Wiggum?"
"Well, kinda', for like a week, in second grade."
"Oh. Whew! That doesn't count then."
"I guess not. Nor does Nelson."
Brian spat his champagne across the table, hitting Grandpa Simpson in the face.
"Was that a joke? You went out with Nelson!"
"For two weeks. Again, in second grade!"
"Second grade. Sigh . Guess nothing could've happened then."
"Well, I did get my first kiss…"
Brian spat out his champagne again.
"Hey!" Grandpa whinned. "That stuff's for drinkin', not squirtin'!
"Sorry Pops. But, really, your first kiss was with Nelson Muntz!"
"Not so loud! Yes! I told you, I was in second grade! I was eight years old! It means nothing to me!"
"I'm sorry. When I'm drunk I get both loud and jealous."
"Well, you are on your fifth glass. Maybe you should switch to Buzz cola or something."
"No way. The last thing you need is a sugared-up, caffeinated drunk. I'll just get a some of that sparkling cider."
"Good call. Could you get me one too?"
"Huh? Sure thing babe." And he staggered off.
"Well, he is quite a catch Lis'," Aunt Selma wheezed.
"No criminal record?" Patty asked.
Lisa was about to answer, but Selma cut in. "Checked. He's clean."
"How'd you get his records?"
"Ralph is easy to bribe."
"He has a weakness for fudgecicles."
"And he's got a doctorate in Christian theology, and majors in both classical philosophy and theology. He's keeper."
After a while it was time for the first dance. The band they hired played 'You Send Me'. After that, Homer danced with Jessica and Marge with Bart. Marge was crying.
"Oh Bart, I can't believe it. My special little guy, my baby boy, all grown up and married. I'm just so happy for you."
"Mom, please. You're crying in front of everybody."
Later, Elfman got up on stage and, after prepping the band, announced it as time for the everyone to get out on the floor.
The entire party got out and danced. Bart and Jessica were whipping around the dance floor, wilder and faster than all the others.
"With sadness in my heart, and joy in my mind,
I thought about the ghost that we left behind.
With everyone around telling us what to do,
With deafening sound whisper 'I love you'.
With fire in your eyes, may it never go out.
The sweetness of your tears make it feel like night.
I see no escape from the roles we always play.
What do we have to prove on this judgement day?"
"You're mine now, but you're not my sister!
You're mine now, but you're not my slave!
You're mine now, but you're not my child!
You're mine now, but you're not my slave!
"You're missing the whole point; you're not my little pet.
Don't throw away your life; the game's not over yet.
I do not own your soul; don't want you in a cage.
I only want your heart to find that special place"
Lisa danced with Brian. He laughed, and she turned and saw Eric dancing with Felicia. She laughed.
"With sand in my heart, and clouds in my head,
I thought about us both and the lives we lead.
From pages in a book, and pictures on a screen,
We make ourselves like clay from someone else's dream.
In one second you are pressed just like stones at my feet,
But I am not a king please don't worship me."
"With sadness in my heart, and joy in my mind,
I thought about the ghost that we left behind.
With everyone around telling us what to do,
With deafening sound whisper 'I love you'
You're missing the whole point; you're not my little pet.
Don't throw away your life; the game's not over yet.
I do not own your soul; don't want you in a cage.
I only want your heart to find that special place"
Everyone cheered. Elfman sang a few more of his Oingo Boingo songs, then called to Brian and brought him up on stage.
"Now, one need only listen to Jess and Bart's radio show, or one of their albums for that matter, to figure out that they love classic rock. So, Brian here, one of their fellow-fans, and piano-player like no other, is gonna help me play a song Jess loves, and Bart secretly likes, and virtually ever baby-boomer has hear fifty-billion times."
He whispered something to Brian who smiled and nodded.
Brian sat down at the piano, practised a few chords, adjusted the mic, then began playing 'American Pie'.
"…the day…the music…died…"
Applause and whistling engulfed the party. Brian went to the front of the stage, and took a bow. Before he could leave the stage, Elfman stopped him.
"Now, while Jessica and Bart are very much the face and voice of 'The Springfield Seven', Brian and Lisa are the heart and soul, acting as managers, agents, songwriters, accountants, and PR managers for the group, in addition to supplying bass, piano, acoustic guitar, saxophone, and backup vocals. In addition, the two, like Bart and Jessica, are positively nuts about each other."
Lisa blushed and smiled as she mounted the stage. Everybody laughed and "Awww"-ed. She wasn't used to being 'a couple', at least, publicly. Only Jessica, Patty and Selma, her mother, and Eric had known.
"And so, its only fitting the two serenade the newlyweds with a song I wrote. The title truly describes Bart and Jessica: 'Meant To Be'."
Brian rolled his eyes. Lisa set her hand on her face and shook her head. With a sigh of resignation, she looked at Brian, who nodded. They began to sing.
Suddenly, the doors of the Irish Legion Hall were flung open, revealing a veritable army of screaming teenage girls burst in.
"Danny!" Burton screamed, "You idiot! This is the week of the Bi-Mon-Sci-Fi-Con! The town is crawling with fans of my 'NBC'! Plus, they know you as the voice of Jack! What do we do?"
"Run!"
They made a break for the back door.
"You head for the limo, I' sneak around to the front and take the motorcycle. Deploy! The Deppbots!"
The mob of screeching nerds was gaining. Suddenly, they were intercepted by four robots. One of the Johnny Deppbots was Depp from Edward Scissorhands, the other was Depp's character from Sleepy Hollow, the next was modelled after Capt. Jack Sparrow, the third was a 'normal' version of Johnny Depp. The screaming teens made short work of them. But they bought Elfman and Burton valuable escape time.
"Well, that's a shame," Brian said.
"At least we don't have to finish the stupid song."
"Yeah. That's a plus."
"Guys, Mr. Elfman really is a talented man, but Nightmare Before Christmas is annoying, artistically flawed, and seriously overrated, and it is a terrible shame that most kids these days know Elfman for some of his least spectacular compositions."
"His best song from that whole craptacular mess is 'This Is Halloween', and even that gets only three stars on my iPod!"
"Plus he doesn't even sing in it!"
"But here is a great song from another great artist, two artists, actually."
"This is for my brother Bart and his wife Jessica."
"Don't go breakin' my heart!" Brian sang.
"I couldn't if I tried!" Lisa replied
Everyone laughed and clapped.
The dancing went on all afternoon. Around five, the enormous wedding cake was brought out. Bart and Jessica were to eat the first piece together, but Bart's attempt to feed Jessica resulted in her near-loss of an eye, and the whole thing devolved into a cake fight between the two, which, with the entire party being thoroughly drunk, and the only non-Springfielders present being thoroughly liqueured-up over-the-hill rockers, the whole ordeal became a ferocious food fight.
"Darn it! This is my favourite suit! My only one," Seymour growled, "Why must every well-attended event in this town result in either a riot, Hindenburg-ian disaster, or some other gross display of chaos?"
"Ah, quite yer bitchin' Seymour. Take this!" Edna laughed as she chucked a piece of cake at him. "Ha!"
"Brian, we need an escape plan!" Bart yelled amidst the rioting.
Brian nodded signalled to Steve, Burke, and Mac, and rushed up onto the stage.
"Well, the bride and groom are leaving now. One last song while they make a break for the door! One, two, three, four!"
They played 'Goodbye, Goodbye'. The party followed Bart and Jessica out to the limo. They waved goodbye. Jess tossed the bouquet. 'Old Gil' was ready to catch it, but Homer punched him out of the way and lifted up Eric, who caught it and cheered. The couple waved and boarded the limo, which screeched down the road as soon the door shut.
"Well, they're gone," Homer said. It had just hit him: his boy, his oldest child, was truly on his own now. It was one of those rare moments he was actually proud of his son, and almost didn't regret the series of choices that had resulted in his being born. Marge hugged him.