"So uh..house the uh..family and them?" Moe Syzlack, the musty dark and depressed bar tender asked Homer, he was chugging down his third mug of Duff behind the bar stool, it was damp and depressing.

"Ah you know...same old...boring..crap," Homer said with a slurred tongue, his drinking colleagues hardly noticed the two as they were busy shooting darts and stumbling around the pool table laughing and occassionally groaning.

"Nothin' new?" Moe took and old rag out from under his cash register and began mopping the counter furiously, trying to keep his voice cool, he couldn't stand his friend at times, with a beautiful wife like Marge at home, Homer could haver her whenever he pleased and he took advantage of it everynight at the tavern.

"You know...sometimes..it's funny...you come home and yer wife's like...'Homie, take out the trash, Homie let's snuggle...and blah blah blah' and I'm like..dude..it's late, can't a man get his beauty sleep?" Homer's slur was getting out of hand as he shook the mug at Moe, wanting another refill. Moe ran his fingers through his shaggy mop of curls and took the mug with a sigh.

"You know how good you got it?" Moe asked his drunken friend refilling the mug,

"And this is your last one, I am not driving you home again. Barney is tired of returning your car.."

Homer nodded still a bit hazed.

Moe returned to scrubbing the counter, listening, disgusted as his friend slurped down the next frosty beer. Moe wished for one day he could be Homer and show Marge all the love she deserved, everytime he saw her he acted like a complete idiot though. Moe put the rag down and sighed again, he thought of Maggie's first birthday, he had given her a new rattle, the only thing he could think to give a baby, Marge had simply looked at it along with three other rattles that were given to her daughter. She half smiled and choked a,

"Thank you Moe."

I am such a fool, Moe thought, depressed again, as usual. He drowned out the sounds of laughter and game, the sound of Homer's slurs and rants, everything was behind him. He didn't know how to get these feelings out to her, he would probably never do it.

The door was swung open almost as if a gust of wind had forcefully pushed it open,

"My god this place is rank," Moe heard a familiar voice echo into the musty darkness. Only a dim lamp hung over the pool table.

"Moe!"

Moe turned to see Edna Krabapple, his old fling when she had first moved to Springfield, he smiled and shrugged,

"Hey Edna, I thought you was...allergic to my tavern.."

Edna laughed her loud, "HA!" and came swinging over, her hips swaying and perched herself on a bar stool.

"Those kids have killed my rebel spirit, give me something sweet handsome, I've been dying for a beer all day."

Moe half smiled at the girl, her eyes were batting back and forth, she first gazed at the jukebox, then at the wall and the boys boring holes through her with their disgusting eyes, she rolled her eyes and looked back at Moe.

He was filling a mug up to the top, and he occasionally glanced up at Edna, she and him remained good friends, but she could never imagine how she had chosen him as her fiance. She'd been dumped to the curb one too many times to even dream of it again.

"So how are...things goin' at the school and all?"

"I've decided to teach fifth grade this year," Edna smiled at Moe and he felt a leap in his chest but he quickly turned away.

"Fifth graders eh?" He asked handing her the mug, and still not looking at her.

"Yes, I've gotten less whining...they're trying to be mature at least, and this year I have to teach sex ed. Ugh! Thank God that's not until after winter vacation."

Moe laughed and Homer began snoring, his head on the counter.