Chapter Three
Marge, with Maggie in her arms, knocked on the door three times.
"Who is it?!" called a voice from within.
"My name is Marge Simpson and I'm looking for Moe Syzlak," Marge called back. The door of the shabby apartment building creaked open to reveal a 40ish man dressed somewhere in between G.I. Joe and a Bigfoot hunter.
"You don't look like the Marge Simpson I know."
"That's because we've never met!" Marge cried out in annoyance. "Now, where can I find Mr. Syzlak?"
"3rd floor, room four. Hey, that rhymes! Maybe I should be a poet or something." Marge rolled her eyes and made her way to the elevator. When she arrived at Moe's room, she pressed the doorbell, realized it hadn't worked since the early 90's and knocked.
"Who is it?" asked Moe from the inside.
"It's me, Marge. I'm here to drop Maggie off."
"Okay, c'mon in, Midge." Marge stepped inside the dingy apartment awkwardly. She feared that it wasn't a safe place for a baby. She needn't have worried; Maggie and Moe would be in the apartment for only a short time after she left.
"I hope you realize that Homer and I will be gone a few hours, so you'll be taking care of Maggie longer than usual."
"Don't worry about it, Midge. Magpie and I always keep busy."
"Oh, I know you do. Listen, I don't want her to stay up longer than 9:00, but I would really prefer she go to bed at 7."
"No problem, Midge," said Moe, taking Maggie from her. "We'll be fine."
"Well, alright. See you soon. I'll call if we're gonna be late."
"Okay, bye Midge," Marge shut the door and Moe sat Maggie down on his couch and opened a nearby cabinet. Inside were loads of murder weapons, case files, evidence in little baggies, and a whole cooler full of baby formula. Everything they needed to be efficient detectives. Moe picked up a case file and handed another to Maggie. Just as he began to look over the case, the phone rang. Duty calls.