Homer Simpson stood before his boss, both his bosses, a Bible in his hands. He bowed his head and muttered a brief prayer. Oh Lord, please help me say the right words this afternoon as I consecrate another gay union in your Holy name. And please keep these two together because if this marriage doesn't work your humble servant is likely to get fired from his very job and will have to live off dogfood and shame for the rest of his life. Amen.
"Dearly beloved," he began, "we are gathered here today to witness the union of Charles Montgomery Burns and Waylon Joseph Smithers in holy matrimony, an honorable estate and not one to be entered into lightly.
Homer's eyes flicked briefly over Marge. He bowed his head and continued.
"All of us need and desired to love, and be loved in return. The highest form of love between two people is a monogamous, committed relationship. Love isn't something you say, or something you can buy, it's something you do. Love doesn't mean there won't be moments of strife. There will be mistakes, misunderstandings, and sometimes the only way to make it better is to say the two most difficult words a man can ever say: 'I'm sorry.'"
"Love has brought these two men together as husband and husband. And it is in honor of that for which we are gathered here today. I bid you all welcome, come in as strangers, leave as family."
Homer took Burns' and Smithers' hands in his. Then interlaced the men's hands. He took a step back.
Burns could hardly meet Smithers' eyes, yet he found there was nowhere else he'd rather look. He held Smithers' hand tightly. "My dearest Waylon," he began. "You know me better than anyone else in this world, and yet somehow you still manage to love me. You are my friend, my confident, the sober yin to my raging yang. Everything I am, and everything I have is yours from this moment forth, and for eternity."
Smithers smiled, finding he could not look away from Burns' eyes that so perfectly matched the sky above. "From the moment you first let me see your heart, I was yours. For all that has been, and all that my yet be, I will stand beside you. Everything I am, and everything I could ever wish to be is here beside you. I look with joy down the path of our tomorrows, knowing we will always walk it side by side, hand in hand, and heart to heart."
Homer reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, white box. He opened it, and held it before the two men. Nestled inside white velvet were two rose-colored rings. At first glance, they almost looked like rose gold, but there was a slight difference in the luster. Smithers had never seen them before. He raised his eyes questioning.
"Rose platinum," Burns whispered.
"I didn't even know they made rose platinum," Smithers mouthed back.
"They do if you're rich enough," Burns replied under his breath.
Homer waited patiently as Burns deftly lifted one ring out, and slid it over Smithers' left ring finger. "With this ring, I marry you and bind my life to yours. It is a symbol of my eternal love, my everlasting friendship, and the promise of all my tomorrows."
Smithers removed the second ring from the box. He gently slid it over Burns finger, and repeated the same words Burns had spoken. "With this ring, I marry you and bind my life to yours. It is a symbol of my eternal love, my everlasting friendship, and the promise of all my tomorrows."
Homer placed their hands together and raised them up. "By the power vested in me, and the state of North Tacoma, I now pronounce you husband and husband. Gentlemen, you may share your kiss."
Burns leaned forward, gently cupping Smithers' cheek. Smithers met him halfway, and the two men embraced. It was light and sweet, and filled with emotion. Though their quick kiss lasted but a moment, the feelings only grew.
Homer closed his Bible. "If you will all stand, it is my pleasure to present Mister and Mister Burns."
The small gathering erupted into applause as Burns and Smithers stood, hand in hand before their guests.
"So I'm a 'Burns' now, am I?" Smithers whispered over.
His husband smirked. "Only if you want to be, but our wedding planner agreed that sounded best on paper."
Smithers blushed and looked away shyly. "We'll see," he murmured.
The ceremony came to a close.
"Are you crying?" Antoine asked Preston, genuinely curious.
Preston shook his head. "It's just allergies."
"You're allergic to feels. It's okay." Antoine draped an arm casually around Preston's shoulder. "I get 'em too."
The guests followed their hosts up to the veranda for the reception lunch. It was a small affair, a buffet line up of various treats. Somewhere along the way, the chef had been informed that Lisa Simpson didn't eat meat. There were small plates available with all manner of delicacies.
Lisa helped herself to several vegetable based options then sat down next to Elliot and Rigel. "Sometimes I feel a little left out being the only vegetarian," she admitted as Donna and Bart heaped their plates with shrimp, cocktail sausages, and bacon-wrapped dates.
Rigel gave her a friendly smile. "If it makes you feel better, I never even tried meat till I was sixteen. My whole family's vegetarian. I'm the pariah because I eat meat. I sort of know how you feel." Rigel considered her plate. "Not exactly, but I understand where you're coming from."
Lisa smiled warmly.
Marge found Homer standing over by the drink table, trying to decide between beers. They had Duff, and something called Cliffboxer which he wasn't so sure about. Marge slipped an arm around her husband's waist. "That was a beautiful opening speech, Homie."
"Awww, thanks Marge. I was thinking about you when I wrote it."
Marge giggled behind her hand. "Really?"
Homer nodded. "Oh yeah. But I wasn't sure about one part."
"Oh really? Which was that?"
"The words men find most difficult to say. I'm not sure if it's 'I'm sorry,' or 'I don't know.'"
Marge helped herself to a shrimp off Homer's plate. "I'm sure they're equally hard, and it takes a big man to be able to say either."
Homer leaned in and nuzzled her cheek. "Awww, I love you Marge."
"I love you too, Homie."
Their quiet moment was interrupted by a commotion just off the steps. Marge and Homer looked up, concerned.
"Come on, man, give it back!" Bart waved his fist at a peacock. The bird, a large slice of bread in its mouth regarded him without a hint of concern.
"Hey you'll never get it back that way," Larry called out. "You gotta talk to him like a bird, see? Make him think you're one of them. Like this!" Larry threw back his head and gave a shrill call that sounded remarkably like the peafowls' calls. Donna laughed, and imitated her father. She hopped down off the porch and walked cautiously up to the peacock, hand out-stretched. The bird continued to look on, unruffled by the activity. It dropped the bread to the ground and began to eat.
"Donna Adeline, you leave that bird alone! That goes for you too, Larry!" Janet called out before returning to her meal.
At the head of the table, the newly married couple sat, able to survey the scene contentedly. "You know, Waylon, I never thought I'd say this, but I'm actually enjoying the company. Maybe, one a great while, we might entertain the idea of guests again. Not any time soon of course, but perhaps in a year or so, it would be nice. But only for about three days. After that, I'll want peace and quiet again. We can set the hounds on them if they don't leave."
"Or we could just specify dates on the invitation, and ask nicely."
Burns debated with himself for a moment. "Fine, Waylon, we can try it your way." He smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners, and leaned in to give his husband a quick kiss on the cheek.