Author note: This should have been out earlier but I accidentally deleted the original so I had to rewrite this.
I do not own The Simpson.
Enjoy!
Beer can't taste bad.
It just can't!
Homer ran back into the main Bar and tried to finish the two glasses of Beers, regardless of how sticky his seat and the floor were.
But the moment that liquid touched his tongue, he felt like puking.
This was Duff Beer.
How could it taste like ash in his mouth!?
He ripped himself from his seat and ran for the door.
"Homer! Where are you going?" Moe said.
"Kwik-e-Mart, for Beer!" He yelled, making those in the bar let out shocked and appalled gasps from their mouths, to think he would ever prefer those drinks to the one's at the bar.
Homer left the bar and his two glasses of beer were soon devoured by Bernie, who didn't care how disgusting the other men looked at the bar as he chugged it down.
However, when Homer rushed to the car, Homer was all too aware of how his thighs were rubbing together and creating a weird heat around his crotch area.
It was very uncomfortable but he ignored it and slid inside the car, the instant his weight hit that red seat, there was a very noticeable dip the car went through.
It bothered him.
A lot.
Homer shook his head and said. "No. Focus, Homer. You need to get to Kwik-E-Mart"
Homer hot-wired the car and began to drive the car out of its parked area and onto the streets of Springfield, he shut his mind to the ugliness of the town as he drove and entered the Kwik-E-Mart Car park.
It was a mess.
There were bottles, urine and even dog pop, everywhere.
Homer felt like driving away and never getting out of the car, but his inner drive to find out if all Beer's tasted bad to him made him take a leap of faith and open the car door and get out.
He almost gagged.
He didn't know what was worse, the smell of the pollution from the Powerplant not that far away from him or the smells he couldn't quite make out.
He carefully walked to the transparent automatic doors, wishing he had shoes on every step of the way before breathing a sigh of relief that the Kwik-E-Mart was still how he remembered it.
It was a neatly packed, small convenience store and what kept it so neatly packed was the shot gun on 'display' not that far from the counter and used, when Apu caught somebody stealing from his shop.
The man took his store very seriously, the man had to if he wanted to survive in this low brow town with over a dozen kid's.
"Hello, Homer" Apu said, seeing him.
Homer startled the man by quickly rushing to the counter and saying. "APU! GIVE ME ALL THE BEER YOU GOT!"
However, Apu did not immediately give him the beer instead the man looked at the hospital gown Homer wore that he know had no pockets before looking at both of Homer's hands to find no wallet, cash or card in either of them.
"I'm sorry, Homer but I cannot do that" Apu said, surprising Homer before the man pointed to a sign a meter away to the Homer left and reading. "No cash? No service. If you intend to rob my store than prepared to be shot"
Homer looked down and saw that he didn't have anything on him and he know Apu.
He wouldn't let him have anything unless the man saw money.
Homer would have no choice but go home and grab his wallet.
"Wait. One moment" Homer said, before rushing out the door, he felt his thighs rubbing together again and this time he did scream out in pain. "OW!"
He carefully tipped toed back to his car and hotwired the vehicle out of the car park before making his way home, the town looked even worse when he headed to his neighborhood.
All of the house's looked well-kept but when he got his house, he was in for quite a shock.
His house, the building he called home looked like a total Trainwreck, the grass he had in front of his house wasn't even real grass but even that looked slightly yellow.
The walls looked old and barely holding together and the roof was just screaming for him to help it.
Out front was a Lawnmower that belonged to Flanders, the man had lent it to him a year ago and he hadn't given it back since.
Homer blinked.
Why hadn't he given the lawnmower back to Flanders?
Homer shook his head and stepped out of the car and onto the law, with each step he felt like he should clean up and made his way to the shabby looking brown door, that he should really repaint.
He knocked on the door for 5 minutes but there was no answer.
He saw the window to the living room and shuffled 4 paces to his right and touched the glass.
He found that it was a huge mistake because he suddenly had a full view of dirt that Marge had been nagging him about for months and couldn't help but draw away in disgust.
"Eww" He said, shaking his hands, wanting to clean them immediately.
He saw that nobody was home.
So, Marge and the Kid's hadn't come back yet or they went out.
So how can he get into the house?
He didn't want to have to wait for them to return.
He suddenly had an idea.
"The Backdoor!" He said, rushing around the house only to wince in pain, from the heat coming from his crotch area "What is that!?" he yelled and looked down at his hospital gown.
Homer was seriously thinking about going back to the hospital, to see what was making him feel pain in-between his legs.
He turned the corner and instantly felt overwhelming regret when he saw the state of his backyard, it could have looked so nice but instead it was a mess, the hammock that he tied between two tree and gave him so much joy when he should be working, was an eye sore to him now.
There was chewed up old toy's everywhere, the dog house looked broken and wore out and he was appalled to see their dog 'Santa's Little Helper' asleep but it's face showed the lack of food it was eating, it looked tired and boney.
He wanted to throw the dog a turkey leg or something.
What was Marge feeding him?
It was heart breaking walking past all of this and trying, the lighter brown door to see if it was unlocked and just as he expected it was unlocked.
"Why is this door unlocked?" he said, going inside the house and then turning to face the door only to look at it from the other side.
He got his answer.
The lock on the door was broken and it was much more than that, it was so rusty that it was falling apart.
He remembered Marge nagging him about the back door as well, but she stopped doing that after a while, now she just put's books on the inside when she wanted it closed.
No wonder they were so easily to rob.
Then he turned to look at the dining room and almost had a heart attack, the place that he thought looked nice enough for his family to eat dinner in, was actually tearing itself apart.
The walls were dripping with lead paint, the ceiling was dripping and creaking, the chairs were wooden and old looking, the cloth on the table looked like it had seen better years.
It was like up to now, he had been seeing the room through rose colored tinted glasses.
"This is where my family eats for dinner?" Homer said, downright shocked.
He walked out of the room and saw the steps, the pole that he held on looked old and weak, it almost collapsed under his weight, he walked up the stairs and with each step, he had the strong urge to lose some weight.
He went into the hallway and approached Lisa room, but instead of pass it, like every day without taking a single glance at it, he stopped at it and tried to shut the brown door.
It didn't lock instead the bolts looked to be almost coming out.
The Robbers could have easily gone into Lisa room and done who knows what, while she slept.
If somebody who didn't care about human life had gone into her room, the family could have easily woken up with one less child in the family.
He had so many bad thought about could he happen to her that he was genuinely scared for his little girl.
No.
Wait.
Beer!
He went to his and Marge's room and saw that the room looked far better than everything else in the house because of Marge's obsession with keeping the room neat and tidy.
However not even her touch could hide how her side of the bed was way too high and his side of the bed was way too low.
Homer could physically see his body shape on the bed sheet and it was huge.
He looked down at his gut and thrust his body forward.
The gut that the gown hid, suddenly could do nothing about it moving forward at a lightening pace and Homer got a full look at how much bigger his gut actually was, when it became more powerful than his clothes.
He screamed and took of his hospital gown, now standing stark naked.
He made the mistake of looking into the rectangular mirror near him and his wife's sheared closet.
Wait.
Why did he even have a sheared closet with his wife?
He looked at the image in front of him.
He felt sick.
He could see stretch marks everywhere, on his arms, on his stomach, chest and neck.
Homer finally know why he felt heat where his thighs were, his thighs were huge and baggy with skin, Homer could picture himself walking around and they would just rub together because they had no space to breath.
His stomach looked like it was glued onto him but not before spending several days out in the sun making it wrinkly and prone.
He looked gross.
"...How can Marge find this attractive?" Homer said, feeling terrible about himself. "How can I wear sexy outfights and Marge not outright throw up when she sees me?"
The clothes made him look thinner than he really was and hid the stretch marks.
Marge's love made him feel confident and sexy.
Homer know he was a middle-aged man so he thought it was okay to let himself go even for a little bit.
Well, neither of these things were here and Homer felt like he was ready to throw up.
Homer could feel his heart trying to die in his chest because of the mountains of fat that was collapsed on top of it.
And all this time, he was telling Bart that it was okay to look like this.
This wasn't just a little bit of fat, all those talks that Marge had with him about how the family was going to take care of itself when he was gone was suddenly at the forefront of his mind.
The tidiness in her eyes as she spoke and how she always did whatever possible to revive him if she thought he had kicked the bucket.
Even though he didn't have a well-paying job, it was a job that still paid and the family couldn't live without that money.
Homer recalled everything he had seen around the house.
Was this really what he wanted for his family?
He recalled his own laziness that caused the house to look the way it did.
He recalled the town his family lived in.
He recalled the terrible school his kid's went to because he couldn't afford to send them to a better school.
He recalled the old and worn out clothes that his family wore every day and only changed when they were going to somewhere nice like church.
He recalled how Marge feared every day that he would kick the bucket.
He didn't want this.
He felt like a failure as a man and a father.
Lisa and Maggie had a great example of what a woman can be from Marge who would always encourage them to be the best they could be.
But what about him and Bart?
Would Bart one day turn into him but divorced?
The thought scared him witless.
"What are you doing, Homer?" He asked himself in the mirror. "Here you are thinking about drinking Beer when you're a mess. Your whole family is living in a terrible looking town, living in a terrible looking house, wearing terrible looking clothes and leading terrible looking lives'. How can you call myself a man?" but then he said. "When you married Marge did you want this for her?"
There was a long silence.
The answer was no.
He could see it in his eyes.
But then his eyes changed to show determination.
"I need to listen to myself for once. Screw beer. My family needs me." Homer said, before turning around and heading to the attic for supplies.
He was going to do what Marge had been begged him to do for years.
It was time to start fixing the house.
And scene!
Next chapter, the Family comes home late and is shocked by the visible changes they could see before they even walk through the front door. They find Homer hard at work. Review/fav and follow!