"Who are you, and what are you doing in my living room?"
Not for the first time in her life, Marge Simpson looked angry.
Dressed in her usual pearls and light green dress, Marge held a tight fist to her left hip as she used her other hand to point at the blob with the face.
Her husband, Homer Simpson, did much the same. He pointed with a chubby yellow finger as he spoke sarcastically.
"More like what are you?" As Homer laughed, he seemed to shake all over.
Bart Simpson wore a cool casual look as he folded his small arms. "Yeah. Who, or what, are you?" He spoke with a calm bravado that was unusual for a ten-year-old.
The creature sitting on the couch had a rough resemblance to Jabba the Hutt. He used a small brown hand to gesture to his corpulent self.
"Who am I?" he asked in a loud shrieking voice. "Who am I? Well," he said. He smacked his great lips, causing gray liquid to ooze out. Most family members responded with "Ew." Little Maggie Simpson simply winced.
"Who I am is very difficult to explain," the creature said.
"Well, try," Marge insisted.
The creature glanced up at the ceiling.
"You know how on 'Star Trek'-"
"Oh! I know 'Star Trek!'" Homer jumped and down with his hand raised like he was a little kid.
"Yes,'' the creature said in a droll voice. "On 'Star Trek,' they inevitably or invariably encounter these powerful beings who can do just about anything." The creature waved stubby brown fingers. "I'm one of those."
"Cool," Bart said.
Clasping his hands, Homer gasped with delight. "Do you know Captain Kirk?"
"Do I?" the creature said in a shrieking voice. He waved a tiny hand, and James T. Kirk, dressed in his gold sweater/uniform, held up two fists as he shouted with agony at the ceiling.
"CRO-O-O-ON!"
As Kirk popped out of sight, the creature spoke calmly.
"That's me. I'm Cron. And I can make things happen!" He snapped his fingers. His unusually tiny fingers produced unusually loud snapping noises.
"Well, good for you," Marge said.
"Wow. I'm sold," Homer said with his usual blank look.
After Marge made a low growling noise in her throat, she turned back to their visitor. "What is it you want, Mr. Cron?"
The Jabba-like mouth formed what seemed to be a smile.
"I just wanted to let you know that I've been using my powers to manipulate you and make you do things. And it's brought a lot of amusement and enjoyment. To me and to others." As Marge gasped, Cron went on. "Yes, you are like my puppets, dear Simpsons. You do whatever I command." He narrowed his small dark eyes. "And you've been under my power for quite some time."
"But why?" Lisa Simpson asked in her tiny little voice.
"It's very simple," Cron said in an ominous voice. "You see, I am the most evil creature there is. I am an intergalactic TV producer."
As the Simpsons all gasped, Cron casually puffed on a cigar.
As we pan away from Cron and the Simpsons, imagine the voice of Rod Serling.
"A simple family known as the Simpsons. Has someone from beyond, from another dimension, been manipulating them, controlling their actions and their words? If so, can that same being determine their destiny and their fate? It's a question we'll explore together in 'The Twilight Zone.'"
"No one controls me," Homer insisted angrily, thrusting a thumb at himself for emphasis.
Lisa, skeptical as always, posed a question.
"Assuming what you say is true, why are you telling us this?"
Next to Lisa, younger sister Maggie made her usual sucking noises with her pacifier.
"Lisa!" Homer cried. "He made Captain Kirk appear. What more proof do you need?"
"It's all right, Homer," Cron said in a calm but eerie voice. "To answer your question, Lisa: why am I telling you this? Maybe I tell you this to bother you. That's what some people do. They do and say things just to bother other people." He smiled. "Maybe bothering you brings me amusement and enjoyment."
"Well, you are an evil TV producer," Lisa said.
Cron adopted a more serious look. "Actually, the reason I am here is because I answer to other people. Our viewers insist that the show should only continue if I have your consent for the things I make you do."
"The show?" Marge said "We're on some kind of show?"
"Indeed you are," Cron said. "As your Comic Book Guy might say: Best. Show. Ever."
"You sound a lot like Comic Book Guy," Lisa said.
"Even looks kind of like him," Bart said. Homer laughed while Bart giggled, and the two gave each other a high-five.
With her eyes narrowed in a skeptical look, Lisa tilted her head. "I'm still not sure I believe you."
Cron seemed unperturbed. "If you need another demonstration of my power, how's this?" Cron waved a tiny hand in an almost dismissive manner, much as Comic Book Guy might.
"Hello, everyone." A woman stood next to Marge. She had light brown shoulder-length hair, which stood in contrast with the tall blue beehive of Marge. She wore pearls above a white dress. She had gloves on her hands like she was Jackie Kennedy. When she sat down, she slouched in a very un-Jackie manner.
"Who are you?" Marge demanded.
"June Cleaver," the woman explained.
"Mother of Theodore Cleaver, Otherwise known as 'the Beaver,'" Cron said. "I always had kind of a thing for her."
"Ew," the kids said.
"I'll be in the kitchen," June said, and she headed off that way.
"She is one of the great moms in television history," Cron declared. "Much like you, Marge."
Marge frowned. "If that's an attempt to butter me up, mister, it won't work."
Cron shrugged.
Homer was like an excited little boy. "Make someone else appear!" he shouted in a giddy voice.
"Very well," Cron said. "Here's Teal'c from 'Stargate SG-1.'"
The Jaffa warrior appeared at the center of the living room. He smiled as he bowed then he headed off to the kitchen.
"Wow!" Homer cried. "I feel like I know him!"
Cron settled back in the couch, one little elbow leaning on the top.
"That is just a little bit of the 'magic' I can do."
"There's no such thing as magic," Lisa protested.
Cron waved a tiny hand. "Of course not, Lisa. I was being facetious. This 'magic' I do is actually the application of a highly advanced form of science. I use it to make you 'do stuff.'"
Marge put both fists on her hips. "What is all this business about making us 'do stuff?'"
"Think about it, Marge. There are things in your life that are unrealistic. For instance, when your dog eats too much greasy food, should it cause him to sweat grease and send him sliding across the kitchen floor and out into the street?"
"That just seemed like science to me," Marge said as she blinked her eyes with a bewildered look.
"Yeah, science," Homer said.
"It's not science," Lisa said with a bored look and voice.
"Something like that is not natural," Cron said. "I did it as a joke. And there are things I make you do that are not part of your everyday life."
"What do you mean?" Marge and Lisa asked together.
Cron put on a sly look. "Marge, have you ever had a dream where you and your family are running to the couch?"
Marge's eyes widened in a look of surprise. "I've had many such dreams!"
"Me, too," Lisa said.
"Me three," Bart said. "Plus I write on the blackboard a lot."
Maggie made her usual noises.
"Those were dreams?" Homer said. "I thought we actually did that stuff."
"You did!" Cron said in a gleeful voice. "And do you remember this? At one point you ran to the couch and you found the Flintstones sitting there. And Fred waved to you."
"Yeah, that was cool," Homer said. "I meant to wave back. 'Hi, Fred!'" As he smiled in a dopey way, Homer lifted his hand and waved.
"And when you had these 'dreams' where you ran to the couch, maybe you met other versions of yourselves? Or maybe all the people of Springfield were there?"
"A lot of things happen!" Marge exclaimed. "We could be images from a fax machine or sea creatures or those blue people from 'Avatar!'"
"Or we could be horseback riding." Lisa adopted a dreamy look. "Horses. Horsies. Beautiful horsies."
"So many things happen!" Marge cried. "So many!"
"I made you do that," Cron said. "Then afterward I made you think it was all a dream."
"Oh, my!" Marge exclaimed.
"And you do other things besides running to the couch. Have you had dreams where Bart has an evil twin, or Lisa dies over and over? Or Homer time travels? Or you meet aliens?"
"But we really did meet aliens!" Marge objected.
"Yes, after you visited 'Dizzee-Land,'" Cron said in a droll voice. "But I'm talking about that time when you thought they were trying to eat you." The creature smiled. "That's part of what I call 'the treehouse of horror.'"
"You mean like those stories the kids told each other in Bart's treehouse?"
"Precisely, Homer."
While the Simpsons stood around looking uncertain, even frightened, Cron became very excited and enthusiastic. "There are even tales of horror involving Thanksgiving."
"What's scary about Thanksgiving?" Bart asked with a blank wide-eyed look.
"Those scary stories were some of the best! There was one where you're all turkeys and you're trying to escape being slaughtered."
"Oh, I hate cruelty," Lisa said.
"Unless it's breaking Ralph's heart or rejecting Milhouse," Bart murmured.
"Shut up."
"Excuse me, I have the floor," Cron said. After loudly clearing his throat, he briefly smiled before he went on. "There's another Thanksgiving 'tale of terror' where some cranberry comes to life in a spaceship."
"Cool," Bart said.
"Mmm, cranberry," Homer said with a smile and a dreamy look.
"There's yet another story where there's an AI version of you, Marge."
Marge looked nonplussed (which means perturbed, as Lisa once pointed out to Miss Hoover). "I don't think I'd like that."
"Don't worry, Marge. It all turned out okay in the end. The AI version of you got to go into the Etsy website."
"Oh, that sounds nice!" Marge said in a chipper voice.
"It was nice. So that story had a happy ending."
"Why do you call them stories?" Lisa asked.
"Because when I make you do stuff, it's watched by people on other planets. More on that later. For now, I want to mention that besides these 'terror stories,' there are Bible stories and American tall tales. Those were not my ideas; those were things my boss wanted. He made me do them. Consequently, I did not think those stories were very good. I just didn't like them as much." Cron's blob face, like his voice, was full of disdain.
"So you have someone you answer to?" Marge asked.
"Yes, Marge. Like Mr. Smithers to Mr. Burns."
"Bosses are the worst," Homer griped.
"Yes, they are, Homer. Hey! Would you keep letting me control you if I let you meet some characters from 'Star Wars?'"
"Would we!" Homer exclaimed.
"Dad!" Lisa protested.
"Homer," Marge said in a scolding voice.
In the middle of the living room two figures suddenly appeared: shiny golden robot C-3PO and his little robot companion R2-D2.
The Simpsons' black cat Snowball reacted with great alarm. The dog growled, and Threepio backed away.
"Oh, my!" he exclaimed.
While the kids cheered, Homer made an angry face.
"Stupid robots," he muttered.
"Actually, we are quite intelligent. And we are referred to as 'droids,'" C-3PO said while R2-D2 whistled and beeped.
"Shut up, stupid C-3PO!"
"Shutting up, sir."
Marge leaned in to whisper to the golden droid. "Don't take it personally. Ever since a bad experience at Itchy and Scratchy Land, Homer doesn't like robots."
"I quite understand. Artoo and I will do our best to remain in the background and be unobtrusive." The golden droid shuffled off to examine a lamp. Artoo moved to join him but rolled back when the Simpsons' dog growled.
"Lousy 'Star Wars" robots," Homer muttered. "They're worse than Riverdale punks!"
In a happy cheerful voice, Lisa directed a question at Cron. "Does this mean you've been teaming us up with 'Star Wars' characters?"
Cron responded in a bored voice. "I haven't done anything that weird. Yet."
"But it sounds like there's been other weird stuff," Marge said.
"It's true!" As Cron jumped up from the couch, the Simpsons gasped and even drew back a little. "I've had you do a Hallmark Channel movie and a parody of 'It' and your own version of 'When Harry Met Sally.' It was called 'When Nelson Met Lisa.'"
"Really?" Lisa said.
"I think your finest hour was 'A Simple Flanders.' It was a parody of 'A Simple Plan' combined with 'Fargo.'"
"Oh, my," Marge said.
"Sounds stupid," Homer grunted.
"No, Homer, it was great," Cron insisted. "And the thing is, when I make you do these things, I also broadcast them to other worlds. Except on Earth. They don't have the technology to receive a direct broadcast. So instead, I transmit your antics into the brains of people who then go on to make your show."
Cron made circling motions with his little hands. "Their efforts may be amateurish but it gives them a feeling of being involved, a purpose. And it's still a pretty good show."
Homer gasped a little. "Is it a popular show?"
"It's been on for years! It could go on for many many more years," Cron said with glee.
"All right!" Homer raised triumphant fists.
Cron thrust up a tiny index finger. "That's why we must keep going. Not only do you entertain billions of people on other planets but there are people on Earth who depend on you for a living. People like Dan and Julie and Nancy and Yeardley."
"Yeardley?" Lisa said as she made a face. "What kind of name is Yeardley?"
"In your case, it'd be more like 'Nerdley,'" Bart said in a mocking voice.
As Lisa swatted Bart, Cron kept that finger up. "Yeardley does your voice, Lisa, and Nancy does the voice of Bart."
As Bart gasped, Lisa pointed as she guffawed. "Ha ha, Bart! You're a girl!"
"Shut up," Bart murmured in a crabby way.
"This sounds a little unbelievable," Marge demurred. "But even if it's true, we can't go on being pawns in your little game just to help a few actors."
"You tell him, Marge!" Homer crossed his arms and lifted his head in a haughty manner. "We don't want to help a bunch of lousy actors. Actors stink! Except Mel Gibson and Ron Howard because I'm friends with them"
Homer made a sweeping move of his right hand. "So, we won't help most actors. And we're not interested in helping a bunch of writers either."
"Especially not TV writers," Lisa said. "Are they even real writers?"
Using his right hand, Bart rubbed two fingers against his thumb. "Yeah! And where is our cut of the money action, Jackson?"
Cron blinked his little dark birdlike eyes. "But don't you see? There's so much more at stake. You make billions of people happy!"
"Happy, shmappy," Bart said in a droll voice with eyes half-closed. "Bart gots to get paid."
"Lisa gots to get paid, too. Pardon the improper grammar and any cultural insensitivity."
"It's all right, Lisa," Marge said. "Other people have to get paid, too. Like Julie."
"And Dan," Homer said. "Don't forget Dan."
Marge turned to Cron. "It would help to know: Who is Julie? What is she like?"
"Julie is wonderful and delightful," Cron explained eagerly. "She does your voice, Marge."
"Oh!" Marge cooed.
"She is a television legend on Earth. She played Rhoda's sister on 'Rhoda' and she played a blind woman named Julie in an episode of 'Petrocelli.'"
"Oh! She does sound interesting. But I can't let you go on using my family like this." Marge made a great sweeping gesture with her right hand. "I'm afraid you're just going to have to pull the plug on 'The Simpsons.'"
The other Simpsons all gasped.
"Marge, no," Homer said.
"Well," Cron said in a growling voice. "This is very unexpected. The people I work for want to make sure we have your consent in all this. Apparently a lot of people are sensitive about the topic of slavery nowadays." He tapped a tiny finger against his great chin. "Whatever shall we do?"
"Maybe the writers on Earth could come up with some ideas," Lisa suggested.
Cron snorted. "Do you really think feeble-minded people on Earth could invent characters as zany as you and develop great story ideas for years?"
"We are pretty great," Homer said with a bashful smile. "By the way, what's Dan like?"
"Meh," Cron said with a shrug. "But your influence on Earth is huge, Homer."
"It is?" Homer said.
"Yes, Homer. You are a big influence."
"He's big all right."
"Bart!"
Cron held up a tiny hand in a calming gesture. "It's all right, Homer. Even if Bart does not respect you, there are people on Earth who walk around saying 'D'oh!' and 'whoo-hoo!'"
"Whoo-hoo!"
"Yes, like that," Cron said with a cordial nod of his great head. "But not many people say 'yabba-dabba-doo!'"
"Ha! In your face, Fred Flintstone!"
"In your face indeed," Cron said in a calm gentle voice. "Your influence on Earth is huge, Homer."
"He's huge all right."
"Bart!" Homer quickly switched from a look of anger to a look of joy. "Can I go to Earth and be worshiped or at least idolized?"
Cron's tiny eyes shifted. "Um…."
C-3PO shuffled over to Homer. "That may be all right for you, Master Homer. But it's against my programming to impersonate a deity."
Homer gave him a harsh look. "Will you get out of here!"
C-3PO shuffled off. Behind him, R2-D2 picked up empty cans of Buzz Cola.
"Stupid robots," Homer grumbled. "Why couldn't it have been Princess Leia or somebody cool?"
Cron cleared his throat. "Are you sure you won't let the show go on? The people do enjoy your musical numbers." Cron lifted his tiny hands up toward the ceiling. "'Monorail!'"
"I just don't know," Marge murmured.
"Mom!" Lisa said in her wailing voice. "We have to do it. Billions of people are happier because of us. On all kinds of different worlds."
"Hmm," Marge hmmed. "Never let it be said that I'm intolerant of or insensitive to people on other worlds."
"Oh!" Cron exclaimed. "That sounds hopeful!"
"Even though I'm a mom, I don't want to reduce anyone's happiness."
"Very hopeful indeed!"
Marge threw up an index finger. "Okay, Mr. Cron. We'll do it. But on one condition: you have to make us forget all this."
"Done!"
"Whoo-hoo!"
"Yes. 'Whoo-hoo' and all that," Cron said. When he smiled, there was more gray ooze and more "ew." "I wish you all much happiness. At least as much as a heartless TV producer can."
"I guess we all live happily ever after," Homer said with a dopey grin and his eyes half-closed.
"In a way, yes," Cron said. "It's kind of like that episode of 'The Twilight Zone' where the astronauts are always happy because they're always landing on Earth. That's their greatest bliss."
"Mmm, bliss," Homer said. Marge made an uncertain noise in her throat.
Cron wiggled his fingers. "Before I go, let me do a couple more things. First, here are two great television moms because you, Marge, are such a great mom."
"Why, thank you." Marge held a hand to her chest as she smiled.
Cron snapped his fingers, and two women appeared. One had short blond hair, the other medium red hair.
"I'm Shirley Partridge," the blonde said. She wore a black mini-skirt.
"And I'm Marian Cunningham." She wore a modest dress with an apron.
"I'm honored to be in such prestigious company," Marge said.
Homer gasped loudly with delight. "Make the Fonz appear!"
Cron waved his hand. Instantly, the leather-jacketed icon appeared.
"Aay!" he said as he gave two thumbs up and spread them wide. Homer imitated him, and Bart did, too. Lisa looked happy for them both. Homer then jumped up and down squealing and clapping.
"Go to the kitchen and help yourself to leftovers." Marge pointed the way, and the three departed.
"Aay!" Homer shouted after them.
"Never let it be said I'm not a good hostess."
Cron smiled, ooze-free. "No one would ever say that, Marge. It's one reason you are such a good mom."
"Thank you again," Marge said.
"it's true, Mom,"' Lisa said.
"Yeah," from Bart.
"Thank you, kids." Marge embraced them both; Maggie grabbed on to Marge's left leg.
Once the embrace was over, the family all turned to Cron.
"Anything else before you go?" Lisa asked. "Maybe a pony for me?"
"You couldn't afford to keep one," Cron said.
"I suppose not," Lisa mumbled. "And I wouldn't want Dad to work two jobs."
"That's very kind of you, Lisa. And because of that, I'll let you in on a little secret: Most of the creative geniuses on Earth simply had ideas from other worlds transmitted to their minds. People like Walt Disney, Stan Lee, George Lucas, Jim Henson, Steven Spielberg, Alfred Hitchcock, J.K. Rowling, the guy who invented Archie comics."
Lisa blinked. "What about Anne Rice?"
"She really was a vampire. She just wrote about the world she lived in."
Lisa gasped sharply.
"Farewell, Simpsons," Cron said as he waved and slowly faded out of sight. "I could do this a lot faster but this just seems more dramatic. A few more seconds, and I should be gone. Ah, here we go."
The Simpsons all stood in the living room looking bewildered.
"Anyone else feel like running to the couch?" Homer asked.
Later Cron sat in front of his TV watching the Simpsons. Gathered around him were June Cleaver, Shirley Partridge, Captain Kirk, Teal'c, C-3PO, R2-D2, the Fonz and "Mrs. C." ( as Fonzie called her). They all munched popcorn, except the droids, of course.
At one point, popcorn-munching Cron watched as Marge got out of her car. For a moment, the Simpsons matriarch looked troubled. With a worried look, she moved her head back and forth then she looked up. When her head came back down, a carefree smile spread across her face. With Maggie in her arms, she walked away.
"That's it, Marge," Cron said quietly. "Just live your life like you always do, and without knowing it, you're making others happy."
"She's great," the others said.
"She is quite wonderful," Threepio said as Artoo whistled.
"Yes, she is," Cron whispered.
As we pull away from Cron and his monitor, imagine the voice of Rod Serling.
"If you were being controlled by a powerful being, would you want to know? Marge Simpson has decided that ignorance is bliss. Now as she goes about her everyday routine, taking Maggie to the store and imitating the movements Maggie makes on her toy steering wheel, Marge is bringing happiness to billions of people across the universe. It's a situation that could only exist in 'The Twilight Zone.'"
Fade out.