Chapter 4

Homer returned home feeling very sad. The electricity in Springfield was out, and he'd gotten fired. He didn't have any clue what his wife would say. Only time would tell, he decided. When he got to 742 Evergreen Terrace, Homer reluctantly opened the door.

Marge rushed up to Homer. "Oh, my Homie!" she cried with delight. "I'm so glad you're okay!" She gave him a big kiss on the cheek. "What happened?"

Before Homer could explain, Lisa had finished setting up the battery-powered TV set in the living room. Kent Brockman appeared with the news. "Hello, Springfield!" he announced. "We have our own power supply in case the main power went out, which it did, thanks to a Mr. Homer Simpson of 742 Evergreen Terrace. If I were you, I would form an angry mob against this man," said Kent. He then heard one forming. "I see one has already formed in the studio. And because of that, I've decided that I will be part of the mob, too! Yeah! Down with Homer Simpson!" he declared before Lisa turned the TV off.

All eyes turned to Homer, and none of them looked very friendly. "Homer! You caused this? How could you?" gasped Marge.

"But Marge, it wasn't my fault!" Homer tried to explain. "See…"

"Oh, why should we believe you?" Marge said. "You always goof off at work. How do you know it wasn't your fault? You don't know what the hell you're doing when you're at work!"

Homer stifled himself for a moment. Marge had him there. She was correct in saying that. Maybe he really had caused the accident. But to him, it sure didn't seem like it. His mind then drifted back to Chucky, who'd threatened him earlier.

"Come on, kids, let's go find a hotel in Shelbyville until the power comes back. Let's leave Homer alone to think about what he's done," Marge said, casting one final angry glance at Homer. Homer then sighed, feeling very depressed. He sat on the sofa for several minutes, not moving a muscle. Suddenly, he felt a pair of hands strangle him, and he heard loud, angry screaming from behind him.

Homer pried the hands off his neck and jumped off the sofa. He turned around and realized that his "friend" had followed him home. "Well, Mr. Simpson, we meet again…" said Chucky.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Homer asked. "After all the fun we had, you want to kill people?"

Chucky laughed. "You should have listened to Bart. I'm dangerous, and I will kill everyone," he grinned.

"Not if I can help it!" thundered Homer. He then galloped upstairs to get one of his guns, but Chucky yanked on Homer's legs, and he tumbled down the stairs. Chucky then forced his blade in front of Homer's face. "Into the kitchen. I need a better knife." The piece of metal Chucky used did not work as well as a real knife did. Obediently, Homer carried Chucky into the kitchen, where he found a large, shiny knife for Chucky. He reluctantly handed it to the crazy doll. Chucky smiled, grabbed the knife, and dropped the piece of metal. "Come on, tubby," Chucky threatened. "We're off to find your family. Homer slowly walked out of the house with Chucky to look for his family.