Note: All copyrights belong to their respective owners, and I am not one of the respective owners. Furthermore, this tale was made in honor of the fiction it was based on, and done so without any intent to make money, so please do not sue if you own said copyrights.
WAYLON LOVES MONTY, WHO LOVES WAYLON? by Silvertide
"Smithers! Come over here, I am in need of your assistance!"
An old man, clad in grey-green clothes, stared into a wall of electronic monitors. Their screens were filled with moving black and white images of men working inside of a nuclear power plant full of metal pipes and complex machinery. Well they were at work, if at work meant getting a paycheck for showing up. Only a third of the people seen were actually doing something other than eating, sleeping, socializing, trying to escape locked rooms full of lethal radiation, and chasing two-headed ducks while riding in wheelbarrows marked with the words, "For Use With Toxic Materials". A spectacled man in a forest green coat rushed to the side of the old man.
"Right here sir," said the man in green.
"Smithers! Watching these peons pretending to work is making me hungry, I wish to eat breakfast now."
"Very good sir... But I believe I already set your breakfast on your desk. Sir."
"Of course you did! I know that. I just need some assistance with..."
"With using your utensils sir?"
"Well no! I don't need help holding a knife and fork! What do you think I expect you to do? Feed me like a baby?"
"Well, that's what I do end up doing every morning, sir."
"I gave up on using utensils this morning and tried using my hands. It was quite invigorating to eat unaided, but I had some trouble with one of the food items..."
The old man was C. Montgomery Burns. He owned a nuclear power plant and was the richest man in the town of Springfield. He was also hunch-backed, hooked-nosed much like a vulture, bone-skinny and balding. His assistant, Waylon Smithers, served him day and night, both in the power plant and in the old man's massive mansion. Mr. Smithers had been serving Mr. Burns for years, and was almost always at the old man's side. The two men walked over to a large desk in front of a set of tall windows overlooking a small town. Mr. Burns peered through the long slates of glass at the town below.
"Bah! Springfield is full of nitwits and incompetents! It's a miracle that my Springfieldian employees haven't blown up my plant and completely ruined my entire enterprise in the entrepreneurship of this electrical facility! Smithers, you are probably my most competent employee, if only more of my workers could be like you."
"Thank you sir... What part of your breakfast did you need help with?"
"Ah yes! My breakfast. Well, I ran into some difficulty with tearing the crusts off these slices of bread."
"Well, it would be my pleasure to take care of that for you sir."
"Excellent..."
Smithers proceeded to tear off the brown crusts of Mr. Burn's bread. As he carefully peeled off the thin layers, he nervously looked over at his boss and began to speak.
"Mr. Burns?"
"Yes Smithers?"
"I was wondering, you just said I was your best employee. Am I just an employee to you, or can I be more than that?"
"Whatever do you mean?" Burns asked with a bewildered expression.
"I probably spend more time with you than anybody else in the world-"
"What?!? But what about my good bear friend Bobo?" exclaimed Burns as he pulled out a stuffed Teddy Bear.
"...I meant any other human being. Sir."
"Ah yes, I suppose that is true. But I still don't see your point."
"I'll put this bluntly sir. Would you consider me a... friend?"
A blank look filled Burn's eyes as he hesitantly replied, "A... friend? Well, uh I..."
Before Burns could finish his sentence, Smithers interrupted in a low tone of voice, "If you wouldn't, don't hesitate to say so. A superior man like you shouldn't worry about hurting my inferior feelings."
"Don't be preposterous! Of course you're my friend, why wouldn't you be?"
"Oh, that is such a relief! After all those times you treated me like nothing more than a slavish lackey and coldly ignored my constant sexual advances-"
"Se-sex-u-al advances? What sexual advances are you refer-"
"-I mean, friendly come ons... er- I mean to say uh... signs of non-sexual platonic affection..." nervously replied Smithers.
"What signs of affection are you referring to?" asked Burns.
"Oh, never mind. Forget I ever mentioned- uh, the point is sir, I am glad that you actually consider me a friend. After all the time I have spent with you as your assistant, I have developed a great deal of affection for you and I hoped that you might feel... the same about me."
"Well, of course I feel the same about you..." said Burns with a smile.
"Really sir?" exclaimed Smithers as his eyes widened.
"You're friends with me and I'm friends with you, right chum?"
"I am very happy to hear that sir... is it possible that we could be more than friends?" asked Smithers with a hopeful look in his eyes.
"More than friends? Of course we are..." said Burns with a sly smile.
Smithers eyes lit up.
"...we're employer and faithful employee. We're not just chums, but we're co-workers too." said Burns with a grin.
"Oh." said Smithers disappointingly as he looked down.
"Ah, I see you are done with my bread... friend. Would you be kind enough to pour me some piping hot tea in my little tea cup?" asked Burns as he held up a tea cup.
"Oh yes, of course."
"Now that we have come clean and admitted our friendship to each other, would you like to go out and enjoy something together? A moving picture show? A good watching of a good old baseball game? Or maybe we could do something else that good old pals like us could go out and enjoy together?"
"Well there is a new musical playing in the little Springfield theater, Still In The Closet Magazine' gave it a really good review."
"Really? Actually, that sounds like a total waste of time. But I wouldn't be much of a friend if I didn't give you the chance to tell me more about it, so go on and tell me what the show is about, old chum..." said Burns as he lifted his cup of tea to his mouth.
"Well, it's about the budding romance between a beautiful secretary and her boss at the office. The secretary had been in love with her boss for years, but he had never loved her back the way she-"
Suddenly without warning, Burns slapped Smithers in the face with his empty hand and poured the hot tea in his cup on top of Smithers' head. With the contents of Burns' tea cup dripping down Smithers' face, the devilish old man cackled with fiendish delight. Smithers stood still with painfully hot tea urging him to scream in pain, but all he did was stand quietly with wide eyed surprise.
"Ha ha ha ha ha!" laughed Burns, "I really had you going there, you witless nincompoop! You thought- he he heh- you thought- mh-ha ha ha! -you thought I was actually your friend! Me, the mighty Monty Burns and you, the lowly peon, Waylon Smithers- friends? Hee hee ha ha ha ha ha!"
"So you said you were my friend just as a heartless prank?"
"Of course I did you dolt! If I really were your friend- he he hee! -I wouldn't be laughing at you now, would I?"
"I suppose this horrible wrenching feeling of sorrow I am experiencing now is all my fault. I shouldn't have hoped for your friendship in the first place..." Smithers said sadly.
"No need to be so down, my lad. I was only joshing with you when I called you a dolt and a witless nincompoop. And the slap in the face with the hot tea was just some good-natured rough-housing. You may not be my friend, but I still consider you my best employee." chuckled Mr. Burns.
Smithers made a weak smile knowing that he was at least his boss's favorite employee, although he wished he were more. "Is there anything else I can do for you sir?" asked Smithers.
"No, I don't think- hey! What-? What- What is this mess around my desk? Why is my bread wet with tea? How did this mess happen?"
"Well sir, you made it when-"
"I made this mess?!?" exclaimed Burns, "I didn't make this mess, this must have been your fault somehow! Go clean it up right away!"
"Yes sir." Smithers said meekly.
As Smithers nervously tried to clean off the spilled tea on the table, he accidentally dropped a slice of bread on the floor. When Burns saw what Smithers did, he became very upset and as he pointed his finger at Smithers for being so clumsy, he accidentally knocked over a tea pot, spilling hot tea all over Smithers' groin area.
"Smithers! What is wrong with you today? You just dropped a perfectly good slice of bread on the dirty floor, and with the other slice you accidentally spilled tea on... why, that comes to a total of two ruined pieces of bread! Why are you so clumsy today Smithers?" scolded Burns.
"Sir, I-" Smithers struggled to speak as he suppressed the urge to scream from having piping hot tea spilled all over his sensitive area. "Sir, I deeply apologize for my poor performance today, it won't ever happen again."
"It had better not hap- what is this? You spilled more tea all over yourself? Do you wish to join the unemployment line? Get yourself together! You usually do better work than this."
"Sorry sir. I'll throw away-" Smithers winced from the painfully hot tea that was just spilled on him. "-these pieces of bread now and get you two fresh ones in a moment... sir."
"What? You're throwing them away? That bread cost good money, I refuse to have them go to waste. Smithers, be a good lad and eat them so that they won't go to waste." commanded Burns.
"But sir, one slice is disgustingly soggy and the other is covered with dirt and pieces of hair from-"
"Stop giving me excuses and start eating." commanded Burns.
"Yes sir." Reluctantly, Smithers ate the soggy slice of bread. Even more reluctantly, he put the second slice up to his face. Patches of gray and black covered one of the corners and pieces of hair stuck out from the middle. Before Smithers tried to brush off the dust and grime, he looked over at his boss.
"Stop wasting time. Eat it now." said Burns.
Smithers ate the bread, with a disgusted grimace on his face as he chewed and swallowed the foul slice of bread. After the last bite was gulped down, Burns broke out laughing.
"Hee hee ha ha ha hah!" cackled Burns. "You actually ate it- oh god that was funny! Hee hee he- hee he- hahahahahahahahahaha!"
Smithers felt ready to cry, but he held his composure and laughed along with his boss. "Oh yes! Ha ha ha, that was a pretty funny thing I did. Will that be all sir?"
"Oh, yes. That'll be all, carry on with what you were doing befor-"
The telephone rang, interrupting Burns in mid-sentence. Smithers quickly answered it.
"Hello? Yes, yes he's- well he's very busy right now, could you- what? You need to speak with him now?"
"Who is it?" asked Burns.
"Well sir, he says he's an old friend of yours, and he seems very insistent on speaking with you."
"Oh, very well. Give it here." Smithers gave him the phone. "Oh, Hello?"
"If there is anything else sir, I'll be in the other room." said Smithers as he choked back tears.
"No, that'll be all Smithers."
The loyal assistant walked away from the object of his affections. With his back turned to Burns, his legs had stopped screaming in pain from piping hot tea, as a tear streamed down his cheek. His secret love was not meant to be. Waylon loved Burns, but did anybody love Waylon?
WAYLON LOVES MONTY, WHO LOVES WAYLON? by Silvertide
"Smithers! Come over here, I am in need of your assistance!"
An old man, clad in grey-green clothes, stared into a wall of electronic monitors. Their screens were filled with moving black and white images of men working inside of a nuclear power plant full of metal pipes and complex machinery. Well they were at work, if at work meant getting a paycheck for showing up. Only a third of the people seen were actually doing something other than eating, sleeping, socializing, trying to escape locked rooms full of lethal radiation, and chasing two-headed ducks while riding in wheelbarrows marked with the words, "For Use With Toxic Materials". A spectacled man in a forest green coat rushed to the side of the old man.
"Right here sir," said the man in green.
"Smithers! Watching these peons pretending to work is making me hungry, I wish to eat breakfast now."
"Very good sir... But I believe I already set your breakfast on your desk. Sir."
"Of course you did! I know that. I just need some assistance with..."
"With using your utensils sir?"
"Well no! I don't need help holding a knife and fork! What do you think I expect you to do? Feed me like a baby?"
"Well, that's what I do end up doing every morning, sir."
"I gave up on using utensils this morning and tried using my hands. It was quite invigorating to eat unaided, but I had some trouble with one of the food items..."
The old man was C. Montgomery Burns. He owned a nuclear power plant and was the richest man in the town of Springfield. He was also hunch-backed, hooked-nosed much like a vulture, bone-skinny and balding. His assistant, Waylon Smithers, served him day and night, both in the power plant and in the old man's massive mansion. Mr. Smithers had been serving Mr. Burns for years, and was almost always at the old man's side. The two men walked over to a large desk in front of a set of tall windows overlooking a small town. Mr. Burns peered through the long slates of glass at the town below.
"Bah! Springfield is full of nitwits and incompetents! It's a miracle that my Springfieldian employees haven't blown up my plant and completely ruined my entire enterprise in the entrepreneurship of this electrical facility! Smithers, you are probably my most competent employee, if only more of my workers could be like you."
"Thank you sir... What part of your breakfast did you need help with?"
"Ah yes! My breakfast. Well, I ran into some difficulty with tearing the crusts off these slices of bread."
"Well, it would be my pleasure to take care of that for you sir."
"Excellent..."
Smithers proceeded to tear off the brown crusts of Mr. Burn's bread. As he carefully peeled off the thin layers, he nervously looked over at his boss and began to speak.
"Mr. Burns?"
"Yes Smithers?"
"I was wondering, you just said I was your best employee. Am I just an employee to you, or can I be more than that?"
"Whatever do you mean?" Burns asked with a bewildered expression.
"I probably spend more time with you than anybody else in the world-"
"What?!? But what about my good bear friend Bobo?" exclaimed Burns as he pulled out a stuffed Teddy Bear.
"...I meant any other human being. Sir."
"Ah yes, I suppose that is true. But I still don't see your point."
"I'll put this bluntly sir. Would you consider me a... friend?"
A blank look filled Burn's eyes as he hesitantly replied, "A... friend? Well, uh I..."
Before Burns could finish his sentence, Smithers interrupted in a low tone of voice, "If you wouldn't, don't hesitate to say so. A superior man like you shouldn't worry about hurting my inferior feelings."
"Don't be preposterous! Of course you're my friend, why wouldn't you be?"
"Oh, that is such a relief! After all those times you treated me like nothing more than a slavish lackey and coldly ignored my constant sexual advances-"
"Se-sex-u-al advances? What sexual advances are you refer-"
"-I mean, friendly come ons... er- I mean to say uh... signs of non-sexual platonic affection..." nervously replied Smithers.
"What signs of affection are you referring to?" asked Burns.
"Oh, never mind. Forget I ever mentioned- uh, the point is sir, I am glad that you actually consider me a friend. After all the time I have spent with you as your assistant, I have developed a great deal of affection for you and I hoped that you might feel... the same about me."
"Well, of course I feel the same about you..." said Burns with a smile.
"Really sir?" exclaimed Smithers as his eyes widened.
"You're friends with me and I'm friends with you, right chum?"
"I am very happy to hear that sir... is it possible that we could be more than friends?" asked Smithers with a hopeful look in his eyes.
"More than friends? Of course we are..." said Burns with a sly smile.
Smithers eyes lit up.
"...we're employer and faithful employee. We're not just chums, but we're co-workers too." said Burns with a grin.
"Oh." said Smithers disappointingly as he looked down.
"Ah, I see you are done with my bread... friend. Would you be kind enough to pour me some piping hot tea in my little tea cup?" asked Burns as he held up a tea cup.
"Oh yes, of course."
"Now that we have come clean and admitted our friendship to each other, would you like to go out and enjoy something together? A moving picture show? A good watching of a good old baseball game? Or maybe we could do something else that good old pals like us could go out and enjoy together?"
"Well there is a new musical playing in the little Springfield theater, Still In The Closet Magazine' gave it a really good review."
"Really? Actually, that sounds like a total waste of time. But I wouldn't be much of a friend if I didn't give you the chance to tell me more about it, so go on and tell me what the show is about, old chum..." said Burns as he lifted his cup of tea to his mouth.
"Well, it's about the budding romance between a beautiful secretary and her boss at the office. The secretary had been in love with her boss for years, but he had never loved her back the way she-"
Suddenly without warning, Burns slapped Smithers in the face with his empty hand and poured the hot tea in his cup on top of Smithers' head. With the contents of Burns' tea cup dripping down Smithers' face, the devilish old man cackled with fiendish delight. Smithers stood still with painfully hot tea urging him to scream in pain, but all he did was stand quietly with wide eyed surprise.
"Ha ha ha ha ha!" laughed Burns, "I really had you going there, you witless nincompoop! You thought- he he heh- you thought- mh-ha ha ha! -you thought I was actually your friend! Me, the mighty Monty Burns and you, the lowly peon, Waylon Smithers- friends? Hee hee ha ha ha ha ha!"
"So you said you were my friend just as a heartless prank?"
"Of course I did you dolt! If I really were your friend- he he hee! -I wouldn't be laughing at you now, would I?"
"I suppose this horrible wrenching feeling of sorrow I am experiencing now is all my fault. I shouldn't have hoped for your friendship in the first place..." Smithers said sadly.
"No need to be so down, my lad. I was only joshing with you when I called you a dolt and a witless nincompoop. And the slap in the face with the hot tea was just some good-natured rough-housing. You may not be my friend, but I still consider you my best employee." chuckled Mr. Burns.
Smithers made a weak smile knowing that he was at least his boss's favorite employee, although he wished he were more. "Is there anything else I can do for you sir?" asked Smithers.
"No, I don't think- hey! What-? What- What is this mess around my desk? Why is my bread wet with tea? How did this mess happen?"
"Well sir, you made it when-"
"I made this mess?!?" exclaimed Burns, "I didn't make this mess, this must have been your fault somehow! Go clean it up right away!"
"Yes sir." Smithers said meekly.
As Smithers nervously tried to clean off the spilled tea on the table, he accidentally dropped a slice of bread on the floor. When Burns saw what Smithers did, he became very upset and as he pointed his finger at Smithers for being so clumsy, he accidentally knocked over a tea pot, spilling hot tea all over Smithers' groin area.
"Smithers! What is wrong with you today? You just dropped a perfectly good slice of bread on the dirty floor, and with the other slice you accidentally spilled tea on... why, that comes to a total of two ruined pieces of bread! Why are you so clumsy today Smithers?" scolded Burns.
"Sir, I-" Smithers struggled to speak as he suppressed the urge to scream from having piping hot tea spilled all over his sensitive area. "Sir, I deeply apologize for my poor performance today, it won't ever happen again."
"It had better not hap- what is this? You spilled more tea all over yourself? Do you wish to join the unemployment line? Get yourself together! You usually do better work than this."
"Sorry sir. I'll throw away-" Smithers winced from the painfully hot tea that was just spilled on him. "-these pieces of bread now and get you two fresh ones in a moment... sir."
"What? You're throwing them away? That bread cost good money, I refuse to have them go to waste. Smithers, be a good lad and eat them so that they won't go to waste." commanded Burns.
"But sir, one slice is disgustingly soggy and the other is covered with dirt and pieces of hair from-"
"Stop giving me excuses and start eating." commanded Burns.
"Yes sir." Reluctantly, Smithers ate the soggy slice of bread. Even more reluctantly, he put the second slice up to his face. Patches of gray and black covered one of the corners and pieces of hair stuck out from the middle. Before Smithers tried to brush off the dust and grime, he looked over at his boss.
"Stop wasting time. Eat it now." said Burns.
Smithers ate the bread, with a disgusted grimace on his face as he chewed and swallowed the foul slice of bread. After the last bite was gulped down, Burns broke out laughing.
"Hee hee ha ha ha hah!" cackled Burns. "You actually ate it- oh god that was funny! Hee hee he- hee he- hahahahahahahahahaha!"
Smithers felt ready to cry, but he held his composure and laughed along with his boss. "Oh yes! Ha ha ha, that was a pretty funny thing I did. Will that be all sir?"
"Oh, yes. That'll be all, carry on with what you were doing befor-"
The telephone rang, interrupting Burns in mid-sentence. Smithers quickly answered it.
"Hello? Yes, yes he's- well he's very busy right now, could you- what? You need to speak with him now?"
"Who is it?" asked Burns.
"Well sir, he says he's an old friend of yours, and he seems very insistent on speaking with you."
"Oh, very well. Give it here." Smithers gave him the phone. "Oh, Hello?"
"If there is anything else sir, I'll be in the other room." said Smithers as he choked back tears.
"No, that'll be all Smithers."
The loyal assistant walked away from the object of his affections. With his back turned to Burns, his legs had stopped screaming in pain from piping hot tea, as a tear streamed down his cheek. His secret love was not meant to be. Waylon loved Burns, but did anybody love Waylon?