Simpsons Porn Story: Unexpected Connections Chapter Two

As the bus arrived at the power plant, the only thing I anticipated was seeing my dad, although I was also nervous about this event because he always seemed to find a way to embarrass me. This time it was by the candy machine.

As we were ambling by, looking for our tour guide, I saw my dad with one hand in the candy machine, reaching without success to pull a Twix bar from one of the slots. I waved to him as our eyes met and stopped to give him a hug.

Lisa! What are you doing here? my dad asked cheerfully but confusedly.

I chuckled. Dad, dont you remember? My field trip is today.

Oh. Well, that explains why you kept saying you couldnt wait to see me at the plant today at breakfast, my dad replied.

I laughed. Do you need some help with the candy machine?

No, no, I got it.

At this point, I knew my dad would be mortified if I helped him in front of my whole class, who had stopped their ambling to watch our father-daughter scene.

I can get it my dad began, frustrated. We watched anxiously as his hand inched up the slots until it found the Twix and grasped onto it. Gotcha! I sighed with relief. He hadnt embarrassed me. Yet.

But then he realized his hand was stuck.

From that moment of realization on, I became mortified. In a panic, my dad stuck his other hand through the machine and tried to pull his other out. This obviously didnt work, and he ended up with both hands caught between the slots. I tried to pull his arms out, and some of the class tried to help me, but it was no use.

Oh, Dadwell get you out. We just need to find help, I said, attempting to console him and myself. Then, at precisely the right moment, Mr. Waylon Smithersthe second-highest level executive in the companycame walking by.

What the hell? he questioned. Then realizing the company of the children, he cleared his throat and corrected himself: I mean, what in the world? Simpson, whats going on here?

Hi, Mr. Smithers, my dad moaned, embarrassed. I just kind ofgot stuck.

Mr. Smithers put his hand to his forehead in irritation. Ugh, Simpson, this happens much more frequently than is warranted. Ill help you, but then you have to get back to work. And actually work!

Yes, sir.
Step back, children, warned Mr. Smithers. He then took his trademark green jacket off and tied it around my dads waist. We all gasped in awe as Mr. Smithers pulled the sleeves of his jacket with all his strength and my dad, including his hands, were propelled forward against the opposite wall.

Doh! exclaimed my dad instinctively. He then looked at his freed hands and added, I meanwhoo-hoo! Thank you, Mr. Smithers!

Mr. Smithers smiled slightly. Youre welcome. Now give me my jacket back, and get back to your post. He then turned to us children and grinned. Well, you must be the class I was to supposed to tour today. Perfect timing. Lets go.

The class began to follow Mr. Smithers, but I needed to give my dad one more hug.

Im sorry for embarrassing you, sweetie, my dad said insecurely.

Thats okay, Dad. It was just lucky that Mr. Smithers happened to come by and knew exactly what to do, I said.

Yeah, he always knows what to do. Unlike me, my father said, pitying himself.

I gave him a kiss on the forehead. Dad, you might embarrass me, but you never disappoint me. I love you.

He then smiled. I love you too, Lisa. He smiled. But I think you better catch up with the class. Mr. Smithers doesnt like tardiness. I should know.
I smiled and waved goodbye, then hurried to catch up with the class.

And this where we tested the radiation for Mr. Smithers was in the middle of saying, until he saw me running up to the group. Ah, Miss Simpson. Youve decided to join us. There was a mean edge in his voice, and I didnt like it.

Im sorry, Mr. Smithers. I was just

Just taking after your dad. I understand, he replied sardonically. He then continued the tour, and I grew hurt. Not just for his misconception of me, but for his misconception of my dad. Well, maybe it wasnt a misconception of my dad, but it was still a hurtful and inappropriate thing to say. I decided I would have a word with him after the tour.

However, the time after the tour seemed like would never arrive. Mr. Smithers blethered on incessantly about the plant, which he obviously adored, and even though the tour was extensive, it was actually intriguing. I admired his devotion and interest in his work, but I was still mad.

Mr. Smithers? I said after the other children began exploring the plant with only the supervision of Mrs. Hoover, which I thought was an exceedingly poor idea.

Hm? Yes, Miss Simpson? He turned around and looked down at me.

I was nervous. I didnt know why, but I was. I had never had a problem speaking up when something was bothering me, but I was having a problem now. Umwell, I just wanted to tell you that Ithought your comment about me and my dad back there was very inconsiderate and uncalled for. I looked down momentarily, then up as Mr. Smithers silence was prolonged. I was relieved to see him look apologetic.

He sighed and then bent down to my level. Im sorry, Lisa. I didnt mean to hurt your feelings. Its been a rough day, and Iwell, thats no excuse. Ill personally apologize to your father too, if you want.

No, no. Thats okay. He didnt even know you said it. It would just upset and confuse him.

Mr. Smithers smiled. Well, I hope you can forgive me.

Heh. Yeah, I said, immediately cursing myself for my ill choice of words. Mr. Smithers then stood up, patted my head affectionately, and walked away. I smiled. And felt myself slightly blushing for some odd reason