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Monty Burns sat in the back row, feeling foolish in the ruffled dress
shirt he had promised to wear. Really, though, it was all the crying
made him the most uncomfortable.

He had to admit, though. The bride looked beautiful in her pure white
gown, and Waylon Smithers looked rather dashing as well, in his
rented tux. His faithful assistant looked so happy, to be standing up
there, repeating those vows that Burns had decided years ago were
both frivolous and downright doltish.

After the ceremony, Burns had followed the other guests to the
reception just outside the church. He tried taking another seat in
the back, but Smithers pulled him forward.

This is my boss. Smithers said, motioning to him. His new wife
stood there, beaming at him.

It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Burns. She said, shaking his hand
and smiling a genuine smile.

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Bart had been in the hospital for three days, and they were awful.

The most dorkish of policemen asked him all these weird questions, and even the most painful one.

Where ya from, son? He asked.

Bart shifted in his bed, Springfield.

What state? Asked the man.

Look, who the hell cares! When am I going to get out of this rathole?

The policeman crossed his arms, Lookie here, Mr. Simpson. Around here we dont take kindly to people insulting us. Its just plain rude.

Bart sighed out loud.

The policeman went back to his flipbook.

Continuing on, shall we? Where ya headed to?

Bart shrugged, Anywhere.

The policeman laughed, Well, well; we have a vagabond here. Thats a first.

Bart grumbled something under his breath rhyming with bucking kick.

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Ch. 2

Please continue to R&R! Thanks!

Two
hours later Bart sat on the couch, drunk as Homer can become at
Moes. Uuuuggghhh! I dont feel so well, he said, slipping
to the floor. His eyes watched the TV, though he could see 3 of them.
He didnt know which one to watch.

Lunch
time! their mother called from the kitchen. Lisa came down to her
call, passing Bart on the way.

Are
you feeling okay Bart? she asked, a little worried.

Uuuuggghhh!
he moaned, burping at the end.

Mom!
Bart looks sick! Lisa yelled. Their mother came running in.

Oh
Bart! Lets get you to your room, she said, carrying her son to
his room upstairs.

Lisa
was about to head into the kitchen again when she spotted a Duff beer
can lying on the couch. She thought for a moment. Did Bart drink
this? Nah, it was probably Dad. Actually, where is Dad? She
wondered.

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Never in his life had bart been so interested in something, not even missing school, not even krusty, and that said something. He had been pulled to a festival at a local fair, almost kicking and screaming by his parents. The festival held technologies old and new. Bart hat walked scowling, with his father when he came across a stall with masses of electronic equipment on it, there were wires everywhere and they all reached from this equipment to a pair of gloves and a small helmet and glasses, others just had rubber sensors on the end. It had turned out when bart asked the guy behind the stall that it was a virtual game, he explained it was similar to that of star treks holodecks. Bart had been sceptical, but had had a go, and was mightily impressed, the game was not really a game but an adventure, it, said the man, started you off by leading you through pre programmed rooms of reality then slowly encouraged you to take the lead and lead the computer, it was powerful enough to read your brain waves and deciphering their meanings and what your dreams in effect were and responding and reacting to them, the first pre programmed rooms were there mainly to let the computer analyse your brain waves and their reactions.

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The car park.

Marge finished her shopping, she wheeled the basket to the checkout and watched as she passed her bought goods to the assistant who readily scanned them through until the final bill was totalled. As normal, the bill was settled with cash, she had little need for plastic which everyone else seemed to be using. The basket, again full, but this time the goods with bags, was pushed towards the main door and out into the car park. This time of year, she had entered the market in daylight and a little while later she was retuning to the outside world with a darker look to it, the sun had gone to bed and the moon was up ready to play. It cast its white glow all around the car park which was mostly empty now except for hers and probably members of staff. She wheeled the basket towards her car. She was ever watchful, this time of year with the night rolling in early she felt nervous walking alone.

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A/N: Yes, I know it’s been a while since I last updated but here’s the next chapter, at last. I just started a new troubleshooting job for Apple this week and with working Mon-Fri again it might be difficult to find time to finish this up but I’ll try my best. Thanks again for your review, Narfy, I’ll be getting to your story here soon.

Chapter Eleven: Regrets

Lisa hefted her saxophone case on top of the chest-high counter of the nurse’s station and caught the attention of the three women working behind it. Behind her, Maggie glanced from room to room trying to figure out which one her brother was being kept in while Homer and Marge stood, silent with anticipation. The nurse sitting nearest them blinked slowly a few times.

“You are here to visit…?” she inquired politely.

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Lisa Simpson was a beautiful girl. In his seventeen years had the best 
body around the school: a few big tits finishes 
perfect ass pink nipples and a snub that attracted all 
looks. Continue reading →