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MondayLenny and Carl stood tremulously before the great oak desk. The former twiddled his thumbs in nervous apprehension, whilst the latter's eyes darted uneasily around the room, landing on anything except the frail but ominous looking man behind the desk who had summoned them here. But that man's focus wasn't on the pair of nincompoops already quivering in front of him. C. Montgomery Burns watched the open door across the office, tapping his quill pen against the arm of his wingback chair, his patience growing more tried by the instant. Awaiting Homer Simpson.
At that very moment, the aforementioned man came barreling in, breathing heavily, at such an alarming speed that he nearly collided with Monty's desk.
"OhmygoshI'msosorryMr.BurnsIranallthewayhereIhopeIdidn'tkeepyouwaitingtoolongandbythewayIreallylikeyourtiehehe." Homer Simpson's words all came out in a rush, tumbling one right after the other.
"Your impertinence is unpardonable," griped Mr. Burns, glowering at him menacingly, "Just what gave you the notion that you could brazenly flout my orders to come here immediately?"
"Well, I um…uh," Homer stammered, then his eyes lit up and he retrieved something he had been holding behind his back, holding it up proudly. "I was adding to my chain of paperclips. In your face, Carl!" he shouted, pointing at his coworker. "It's two whole feet longer than yours!" He began to dance in a circle, joyfully swinging the chain around. "Mine is bigger than yo-ours! Mine is bigger than yo-ours!"
"Yeah, yeah, go ahead, " Carl replied, arms folded across his chest in annoyance. "I bet you've never been able to say that before, huh?"
Homer continued to giggle giddily and skip around Carl for a few more seconds before the implication set in. Then…
"Hey!" Homer shouted angrily. As he shook his fists at Carl, the paperclip chain went flying and hit Lenny in the eye.
"Ow! My eye!"
"Oh, now look what you did!" Carl snapped accusingly at Homer, but made no attempt to help Lenny, who was now running back and forth, yelling in pain.
Monty Burns could scarce believe the dog-and-pony show he was bearing witness to. With trembling anger he rose to his feet and shouted as loud as he could, "You morons will cease this behavior this instant or suffer the consequences! Not that anything will save you from being fired from your jobs!"
They halted and were silent. Carl roughly and unceremoniously pulled the string of paperclips out of his friend's eye.
"Ow!" Lenny cried, then addressed Mr. Burns.
"You mean we're losing our jobs?" he asked fretfully.
"That's right, " Mr. Burns confirmed, speaking slowly, his words dripping with scorn. "And do you know why?"
"Um…because we spend more time goofing off than actually working?" guessed Carl.
"Because we make up fake religious holidays so we can drink at Moe's bar?" Lenny chimed in.
"Because we're grossly incompetent?" suggested Homer.
"Hey, I'm not," Carl corrected him. "I have a Masters degree in Nuclear Physics."
"Me, too," Lenny added.
"And yet you scored the second and third lowest on the employee evaluation reports!" Mr. Burns interrupted.
There was a brief pause, and then Lenny asked, "Who
was second and who was third?"
"Wha…What the…" Monty
sputtered. "It doesn't matter!"
"Yeah!" Homer seconded. "The point is you both suck!"
"You're the worst!" Mr. Burns exploded at him, then slumped back in his chair, exhausted from the effort.
"D'oh!" said Homer.
Lenny shrugged and started to leave. "Oh, well, I guess there's always a future for me in the Army's neurochemical research experiments."
Carl followed, heaving a sigh and remarking, "One of Moe's Forget Me Shots will solve this problem- or at least block out its resulting despair."
"What's a 'forget me shot'?" asked their boss before he could stop himself.
"It erases the memory of your last twenty-four hours," answered Homer off-handedly.
"Interesting," Monty commented, jotting the information down on a notepad. Upon looking up, he discovered his three recently terminated employees all walking out the door together, seemingly without a care in the world, chatting convivially. No one would guess they had just lost their source of income.
Monty was infuriated. He had meant to hoist himself out of the disturbing mental reverie of the last few days and console himself by covering these three fatuous dunderpates with the veil of depression. And yet they acted like they wouldn't even miss the too-ample contents of their paychecks!
"I don't think you understand the gravity of your situation!" he exclaimed. "You've just lost your jobs, all your livelihood!"
Only Simpson turned to face him. "Yes, but they're not all we have. I may have a family to support, but its their love and support that sees to it that I do, no matter what. Even Lenny and Carl have each other…"
From somewhere down the hall, Lenny's voce could be heard.
"Hey!"
Homer went on, his aspect one of mingled resentment and pity. "But you…I don't know Mr. Burns. If you ever find somebody to love you, you'd better hang on to them and never let go."
His words hit the nail right on the head. The nail called his perpetual state of loneliness. Monty acknowledged this sense of isolation, but always told himself that he was fine with it. Of course, whenever he highlighted an amorous affair with a marriage proposal, he realized hat he was giving lie to that theory, but then it didn't matter anymore, admitting a need which had already been met. How different would life be with a second toothbrush on the counter, another body there beside him when he woke up in the morning! And yet…in so many cases that's all it would be. Sharing a house, however grand and majestic, wasn't the same thing as sharing a life. And there wasn't anybody he was prepared to share his life with…was there? Besides the one he practically already was.
Mr. Burns swallowed hard. "Go. Get out now," he muttered lowly, turning to stare out the window.
"Eh, I'll be back. I'm always back," came the reply from Homer Simpson.
