Chapter Fifty-eight – 'Not cheers'
"Just five more minutes." A dazed Homer mumbled, laying on his back, staring up at the blue sky. "Where am I?" He rubbed a small bump on the back of his head.
Homer was sprawled out in a field, relaxing on the grass, and questioning his existence. The last thing he remembered was stepping into the pod, seeing a familiar face, and a white light engulfing everything.
The bright sky began to turn dark as a large object cast a shadow across Homer's face. "Maybe it's nighttime and time to sleep." His entire view was obstructed by something...
"Moo!" A large brown and white cow hovered over him. The field was full of cows. Twenty, maybe thirty cows dotted the landscape, including all the way up the hill. "Moo!" The cow said again as it licked Homer's face.
"Mmmm... unprocessed hamburgers." He smiled as the cow walked away to join its brethren under the tall tree. "I'm hungry. I wonder if there is a Krusty Burger around here."
He took a look around the whole field. The grass joined the sky at the horizon, with the hill sticking up in the distance. The lone tree stood at the base of the hill and covered all the cows. Homer continued to wander around until a large concrete object peeked out from the hill.
"Maybe something... is over..." He made an about-face and walked towards the limitless horizon until... "D'oh!"
An invisible wall impeded his path. The grass continued for miles, however, he was unable to get there. He put his hands up to feel around for the dimensions of this barrier. As he walked parallel to the invisible wall, it never ended.
After a few minutes, he began to breathe heavier and more labored. "Ok, fine. I'll go the other way." The concrete structure poked out more from behind the hill. It appeared to be a long, gray, and lifeless object, but it was the only thing besides the cows, which may answer his curiosity.
After an even longer few minutes of putting one foot in front of the other, the hill became larger, the concrete object turned into a bridge, and the most glorious image came into view. He rested under the shade of the tree as he confirmed what he saw. "It that what I think it is..."
"Moooo!" The same brown and white cow answered him, as if it knew what the sign meant.
"Mmmm... Kentucky Fried Panda..." He drooled seeing a panda sitting atop a sign pole beyond the bridge. "Until we meet again, cow." Homer waved as the sight of a group of fast food restaurants appeared in the valley behind the concrete bridge. "What the..."
A car drove across the bridge to signify he was steps away from civilization. And then another, and another, and a moving van, and lastly a tractor trailer.
"Wait for me." He tried to run and made it three steps before being out of breath and stopping. "Please pull over." Traffic continued as Homer walked to the off-ramp before the bridge. An orange car flashed a right turn signal and slowed to exit the highway. "There!"
Homer needed that car to stay for a second until he got to the same spot. Maybe, it had an answer to where the transporter pod took him.
The car stopped at the stop sign at the end of the ramp for an eternity, as the driver stared at the blue food sign in order to decide what they were hungry for.
"Kentucky... Fried... Panda..." Homer shouted between breaths while waving a fist at the innocent bystander. "Please help..."
But it was too late... The orange car had changed its mind. The right turn signal became a left turn signal, and the car slowly pulled away.
"Where am I?" Homer asked himself again. What new world had he ended up in? So far, the only thing friendly to him was the cow, and it provided no answers. "If there is one thing I know: where there is food, there's also people." Which was very true.
Homer's stomach led him from the freeway off-ramp, under the concrete bridge, and into the strip of real estate with the fastest food around. It was glorious. It was heavenly. It was heart attack inducing.
But Marge wasn't here to stop Homer from consuming large amounts of grease, fat, and everything unhealthy. In fact, Homer had no idea where Marge was. He had no idea where anyone was. Mayor Quimby, Chief Wiggum, Kent Brockman, his cameraman, or Burns himself. "Hello!" Homer called to the four winds, but no one responded. If they weren't here with him, where were they?
He shrugged and decided to go where everyone knew his name: Krusty Burger... or maybe Kentucky Fried Panda, or...
"There's also a Lard Lad's here?" Homer exclaimed. All the places Marge normally didn't let Homer go. No adult supervision meant the world of fast food was his. "Dead Lobster? Never tried it... because Marge doesn't like seafood, so I can't ever have it..." He thought for a second and realized. "Marge isn't here, Bart and Lisa aren't here. No one is here to stop me! Onward to the Dead Lobster."
Homer thrust his fist in the air in triumph and followed the street to the Dead Lobster. It wasn't hard to find, as it was the first restaurant he approached. Being the closest to the interstate, it was the emptiest. For being just after noon, this place was a ghost town.
"Welcome to Dead Lobster, I'll be with you in a moment." A young girl greeted Homer upon entering.
"Dead is right." Homer sarcastically said under his breath. "Where is everyone?" He called out. No response, so he waited a minute. "I'll just take a quick look..." He grabbed a menu to peruse while the hostess did whatever she did out of sight.
What he found was not very promising. They had lobsters and other random fish, but the wording on the menu was cryptic: 'Freshish fish picked in the nearest water source on a day not particularly today'.
"So, this is my first time here..." As if the employees behind the counter couldn't tell because of his nervousness. "Is the fish really fresh?" As if they couldn't tell by his cluelessness. "Should I order the Lobster Roll or... something else... what would you recommend?" As if they couldn't tell by his indecisiveness.
The greasy employee knew the company secrets and smirked as he gave his answer to Homer. "Come closer." He leaned in. "This place is empty for a reason. Look, we don't got fresh fish because no one particularly comes here, so we have to price our seafood by supply and demand, and right now both are zero."
Homer had the greatest idea ever. The menu board listed the price of every entree as 'Market Price', which generally meant it was made up on the spot, but in Homer's head: Market Price meant Free.
"In that case, I will have a free Lobster Roll." Homer said gleefully. "And a glass of water."
"That's not how this works." The greasy employee answered as he turned to face the menu board. "Market Price doesn't mean free."
"But you said demand was zero." Homer retorted.
"I also said supply was zero, so we are fresh out." The employee countered. "Sorry, bud. Might I suggest another establishment a little more traveled. I'll show you the door."
Homer obliged and was escorted to the door. "Can I come back later?" He asked, but received the latching of the lock as his answer. "No wonder they never have any customers... or fish." He said out loud while looking at what else he could eat.
So much for trying something new, but again, Homer reminded himself what his main objective was first. Food could wait, however, his stomach argued that food should come first. Dead Lobster was dead to him, but there were a few more restaurants he could try.
"I wish Marge was here to decide where to eat." Homer said, which seemed contrary to how things actually worked. "She would pick somewhere I liked, and somewhere cheap."
Food shouldn't be the most difficult choice of the day. Chili Blasters and Taco Italiano seemed like they could be crowded or have a menu of at least three pages. Neither appealed to Homer at this moment. He just wanted something simple and quick.
"Krusty Burger!" He was familiar with their burgers and lack of options. "Here we go! Quick and simple! One Krusty Burger, one order of fries, and maybe someone will know where I am."
He hoped his favorite burger spot could fulfill all these requests, just as Moe's and his barfly friends did back home.
"Maybe Moe is inside." He excitedly told himself this as he opened the door and took a look. So many people in here compared to the last place. Any people inside would be more. "Moe?" Homer took a chance and asked, but none of the patrons turned to look at him.
The Krusty Burger was Homer's second or third home away from home. The bar, of course, being first, then whatever fast food he was craving that day at second.
Random chatter continued as he approached the counter. Every table was occupied, so ordering food and finding a place to sit might prove to be an impossible task... but it was worth a shot.
"Welcome to Krusty Burger, what can we grill for you?" This employee seemed friendlier and familiar. His voice broke, proving his age along with the blemishes on his face. "Today's Special is a quadruple Krusty Burger on a pretzel bun and a grilled double spicy chicken sandwich, served with fries, onion rings, and a milkshake. All for six bucks."
It was the best deal Homer had ever heard of at Krusty Burger. "Once in a lifetime." He thought. "I'll take it!"
"Six dollars is your total; your order number is seventeen, please pay and pick up your food at the end of the counter." The Squeaky-voiced teen pointed to his right. "Please step over there sir. Can I help who's next."
"Six dollars..." Homer checked his pockets. "I don't have that kinda money, I don't have any money. Just play it cool... maybe they won't notice..."
A few minutes ticked by, and Homer stood, waiting for his food. He scanned the restaurant for anyone he knew, and still there was nothing. People came, and people went. Two tables opened up, one in the middle of the room, and another closer to the window nearest the restroom. Both had empty food wrappers and dirty napkins strewn about. Cleanliness was not the top priority, but neither was the quality of food.
"Order sixteen." A monotone voice spoke through the loudspeaker.
"Sixteen!" A lady shouted behind Homer and elbowed him out of the way. "Excuse me sir." She plainly said. "My food is getting cold."
Homer scoffed. "How? They just called your number."
"I'm trying to take it home and eat it while it's hot, since this place is packed and no tables are empty." She replied.
This was Homer's opportunity to find out... "Where's home, where is here, or where am I?" He blurted out several questions at once. "Please help me..."
"I'm certainly not telling you where I live." It was a stern tone which softened when she saw Homer was desperate for someone to help. "The Fast Food District, where we are now, is located on Vermont Avenue just off of Highway 571, located in the great state of..."
"Alright, alright. I don't need your life story..." Homer interrupted while being cut off by the loudspeaker.
"Order seventeen." It announced. "Your order is packed to go since we..." The voice stopped. "We need to temporarily close because we are deep cleaning the store due to a request from new management. Please exit the building. Thank you."
"D'oh!" Homer exclaimed. "I mean... woo-hoo." He quickly grabbed the to-go bag of food without paying and followed the mass of people outside.
Some patrons jumped in their cars and drove off. Others walked up Vermont Avenue. Homer had no plan. No one was any help, and so far, two restaurants have been useless. He was trapped on this property by the invisible wall. Even the cows confused him.
"Why did I come here?" He shook a fist all around him, especially at the large man statue holding a... "Lard Lad! And that sweet, sweet doughnut!"
It was a sight for sore eyes. Every time Homer went for doughnuts, he felt like he was home. Maybe home after home and Moe's, and somewhere in between Krusty Burger and any other fast food restaurant.
"It's worth a try." He shrugged and made the short walk along the side of the road. The closer he got, the larger the doughnut on the pedestal appeared. The store looked exactly like the one in Springfield, as if it were transported through the pod just like the game players and the citizens sent to find them.
The moment of truth arrived as a guy left the Lard Lad's and held the door open for Homer. One step into the shop, and Homer gave it one last try.
"My name is Homer Simpson, and I'm looking for anyone who knows me and can help. Anyone? Please?" He said it loud enough that every customer and employee looked at him as if a record halted with the scratching noise.
No one immediately answered. This was a bad sign until one voice broke the silence.
"Simpson! You have some explaining to do." Waylon Smithers stood up to greet him and wave him over to the table. "Have a seat."
Homer stumbled over and clumsily pulled out the chair. "I don't know how..."
"Yes you do." Smithers started. "The only way to be here is to use the teleporters in Burns' office behind the false wall. Does Burns know you used the pods, or did you break into his office?"
"Let me start from the beginning..." Homer told a long, winding story, starting with meeting in Bart's treehouse, and their crew breaking into Burns' mansion, then ending up in Burn's office and deciding who to send into the game. First, it was the children, Lenny, and Carl. Secondly was Homer and the others including... "Burns jumped into a pod as well, and we all ended up here... apparently meaning Vermont Avenue... whatever that means."
"Wait, wait a second." Something grabbed Smithers' attention, he needed to backtrack. "Burns entered? That wasn't the plan... and how did he...?" He was confused as Homer's statement didn't fully make sense.
"Burns, me, Marge, Wiggum, Quimby, Kent, and what's-his-name... the cameraguy, we all came... but I haven't seen anyone..." Homer explained, but once again, Smithers wanted to go back to the same question.
"Burns would have to press the button on his desk to activate the transporters... so who did?" Smithers knew how the system worked, but Burns would never enter his own game. The plan was for Smithers to enter on his behalf and compete for the title.
A lightbulb went off in Homer's head. "I saw a shadowy figure when I was standing in the pod. A man I haven't seen in..." He counted to nine on his fingers. "Many, many years. I remember him as if it was yesterday. I wish I could have said hi to..."
"Simpson! Focus!" Smithers derailed his train of thought.
"Sorry sir." He apologized. "So what do we do now?"
Smithers pulled out his MyPad. "I am trying to work with Luann at the moment while we are figuring out this game. We agreed to a truce."
"Luann van Houten?" Homer asked.
"Yes, actually, she just left here a few minutes ago. Apparently her kid found her, and he took all the bagels from here." Smithers recalled the shirtful of bagels he took and probably wasted. "His name was..."
"Bart's friend with the thick glasses... Milhouse!" It was a relief knowing at least one kid made it into the game... meaning his friends Lenny and Carl should be around here somewhere. "Have you seen anyone else?"
Smithers shook his head. "Just Luann and Milhouse, and a few characters I've seen around Springfield who are here now. Last property was that school janitor, and before that was the famous actor, and before that was the beer mascot... it's really weird."
"Mmmm... beer... we need to go back and ask them questions. Maybe they have answers." Homer concluded. "Please tell me you have a vehicle to use. I don't know how much more walking I can do."
"It's outside." Smithers pointed out the window. "I can show you. I wish it was a pink convertible, but unfortunately it's a..."
The sunlight hit the silver token and almost blinded Homer. The sunlight also hit a second smaller silver token which wasn't there earlier. "It's a cup."
"Thimble, actually, and there is two of them now, I guess that means..." Smithers had the thought at the same time as Homer.
"Woo-hoo, Team Smithers!" Homer shouts. "Or Team Thimble!" Either answer would have worked. He now had a buddy to help him rescue Lisa, Marge, Bart, and anyone else they crossed paths with. "So how does this work?"
"When it's my turn..." Homer coughed to suggest a plural wording. "When it's our turn..." Smithers corrected himself. "This MyPad will light up with an icon to roll the dice, and these thimbles will guide us to the next property. Simple as that."
"So... when is that? How long is this going to take?" Homer wondered.
Could be a while, Smithers thought to himself, but didn't want to give an uncertain answer. "Whenever it pops up. Generally my turn is the last in the sequence before Burns freezes the game."
"With his stupid announcements." Homer blew a raspberry as the idea. "But now we won't have to hear him again. Wonder if what's-his-name is taking over?" The shadowy figure who teleported him here had an unknown role at the moment. "Maybe while we wait, we can grab some food... I have this meal I... ordered from the Krusty Burger and..." He could hardly contain his joy at what was about to go down. "I have a plan."
Homer motioned for Smithers to follow him. "We have until an hour or so before sunset until it's my turn."
"Perfect!" Homer cheered. "What I'm about to make for you, may involve a post-meal nap. In fact, I guarantee it. We take this giant four-layer Krusty Burger and divide it in half." Which he did. "Now I need... can I get four doughnuts cut sideways. You got any cash?"
Homer had already left with the Krusty Burger meal without paying, why not add more unpaid food to this adventure. "Luann owns this entire street, so anything to take from her, I'm in." Smithers agreed.
Once the doughnuts appeared on the counter, Homer took a burger patty and the extra dripping sauces and put it between the halves of the doughnut. "Try this!" He handed the most delicious burger ever to Smithers.
"Where did you learn to make this?" He wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "I could eat another one."
"In a land far away... not Springfield, passed Shelbyville, and over the ocean, this creation was invited and I've always wanted to go back." Homer fantasized. "Now I've brought it here, and it shall be added to the menu."
"It shall. Let's make another and find a bench outside while we wait for our turn." Smithers led the way outside and gave Homer a tour of Vermont Avenue.