Simpsons Porn Story: Kiss Me – Chapter 4

The next day I went to see Dr. Hibbert. I hadnt been to the doctors office for a checkup in quite some time, but I needed desperately to know what was wrong with me. So, I sauntered down to Hibberts clinic and sat patiently in the waiting room, looking through odd book-like objects filled with nothing but celebrity gossip.

I then came to a page in one of them that featured two male specimens in a lip-lock. I stared at it, agape. I had never seen anything quite like it. It made me feel exceedingly uncomfortable and yet intrigued. The former emotion was more prominent, though, so I hastily shut the book and tossed it on the counter, my facing feeling rather searing with mortification at the image or maybe just with my interest in it. At that moment, a young nurse called me back, and I was more than grateful to get away from that book-like thing and try to expunge the picture from my mind.

Why, hello, Mr. Burns! I havent seen you here in, oh, twenty years! Hibbert exclaimed upon seeing me. How have you been doing? Besides running over that little boy, getting shot, opening that failed recycling corporation

Crossly, I interrupted, Ive been quite well, thank you. Now, I need to know whats wrong with me, doc. Ive been having the strangest feelings lately.

Stomach aching? Head?

I wasnt quite sure. Well, I guess I feel it mostly in my stomach.

And what does it feel like? Throbbing? Being stabbed? Hibbert began to chuckle. I didnt know why and didnt care.

No, no, no. It feels likesomeone is constantly punching my stomach, but they are not stopping and repeating, its like one big punch that goes in but never comes out.

Hibbert considered this description and smiled. Well, Mr. Burns, Id say you may very well be in love! That or you might have gastroenteritis. Heh-heh!

I looked down, unsure of everything I was. Well, lets hope its gastroenteritis then. Because if Im in love, then II really dont know anything anymore.

Hibbert smiled. Okay, Ill keep my fingers crossed for gastroenteritis then.

By the end of my appointment, Hibbert had come to a diagnosis. No gastroenteritis for me. I was in love. And I didnt know what to do.

How could you do this, Monty? Falling in love with your best friend? With a man, to boot? I couldnt wrap my mind around the idea, so I concluded that sitting alone on a park bench was the only thing that could possibly soothe my rattled nerves.

Hi, Mr. Burns! suddenly piped a small voice.

I reluctantly turned around to face the person, a little girl clad nattily in a strapless red dress, with an elegant band of pearls adorning her neck. What do you want, little girl? I asked wearily.

Mr. Burns, dont you remember me? Im Lisa Simpson. Homer Simpsons daughter?

Homer Simpson?

Remember? Im the one you opened the recycling business with? twittered Lisa.

Ah, yes. What a great team we made, I jeered sardonically.

Hm. Lisa looked at me with a bit of scorn. But then her eyes grew wide and concerned. Mr. Burns, you look terrible. No offense, but Ive never seen you look so sickly and downtrodden. Is anything the matter?

I hesitated. Well, I need someone to talk to. And obviously, I cant talk to Smithers right now. Might as well talk to this little girl.

Lisa sat down next me and swung her legs back and forth with concern. Go ahead, Mr. Burns. Im listening.

I took a deep breath and hunched forward. I think Im in love, little girl.

Lisa beamed. Oh, really? Well, thats great! Congratulations!

Its not a good thing! I exclaimed, taking Lisa aback with fear. Im in deep trouble with this one.

Why? Whats the problem?

The problem. Ha. There are innumerable problems, Miss Lisa. I dont know where to begin.

Lisa attempted, Which one is giving you the most trouble?

All of them. Blast, I dont know what to do. And I cant ask Smithers.

Lisa looked up curiously. Why not? Im sure Mr. Smithers would be glad to help you.

I gave her no reply. I suppose I didnt have to. I just stared out at the jeweled leaves of autumn swirling in the vacant wind. Lisa then posed the question: Mr. Burns, are you in love with Mr. Smithers?

Of course not! Thats preposterous. Im a man, Lisa.

Mr. Burns, with all due or maybe not so due respect, men and men have been falling in love since the beginning of time.

I waved my hand at her dismissively. Bah! Nonsense. I lived through most of our beloved centuries and never have I seen anything like what I saw today in a book called People Magazine October Edition.

Lisa smiled weakly. Well, maybe you havent seen it, but its been there. And in todays time, people are more accepting of all kinds of love than ever before.

I turned my head from her. Well, perchance so, but it doesnt matter. Im not in love with Smithers.

Are you sure about that?

Of course Im sure about that!

Then what is the problem with your current romantic situation? Lisa inquired. I knew then that I shouldnt have agreed to this pointless conversation.

I grudgingly answered, Well, I suppose the age difference is a factor. By God, Im 61 years older thanher. And its not just that. Itsweve been friends for so long. And I knowshedoesnt feel the same way.

How do you know?

Because she would nevershes much too good and smart and capable to ever Lisa looked at me inquisitively. I shrugged. Besides, she already has a girlboyfriend. And I already destroyed one of her relationships. I cant do that again. I might be a cold-hearted bastard sometimes, but I couldnt do that to her again. She seems really happy right now.

Mr. Burns, you should really tellher.

Tell her what? That some wretched, old man just now figured out the emotions he had been feeling for her for the last twenty-five years and now expects to ruin both our friendship and her new relationship for some bizarre romance that isnt even right and could never really be requited? I asked with hopelessness.

Lisa looked sad for me. That was a rare thing, for someone to pity me. Tell her that you love her. Tell her you dont expect anything. Tell her that your love for her outweighs your need for her, therefore allowing her to continue her relationship and possibly your friendship. But Mr. Burns, she really needs to know, and you really need to tell her. Before its too late.

I buried my head in my hands, fraught with fear and confusion. Lisa put her hand to mine. And Mr. Burns, I have a good feeling that he loves you too.