To Be Young: Chapter 5 Burns/SmithersPerformance Anxiety
His first 'simple task' seemed simple enough: To sit and stay quiet until Burns called him for assistance. Waylon had changed out of his muddy clothes back into the ones he'd worn for school that day and now he sat nervously on the couch in Burns' den and stayed quiet just as he'd been instructed to do. Burns sat across the room at his desk, busying himself with paperwork. He was quite stylish for an older gentleman, wearing his maroon jacket and a pink shirt with a brown turtle neck sweater beneath it. Though a bit attention grabbing, he owned the look very well.
He watched in awe as the man scribed diligently into a notebook, the nature of his writing, a complete mystery. He used an old feather quill to write with, which Waylon thought was charmingly eccentric. That, along with the low ambient lighting of the crackling fireplace, cast about him an aura of old Gothic, perhaps even Victorian royalty. He really was quite stunning to watch, so much so that Wayl
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“Mom? What's going on?” asked Bart as he sat down on the side of the bed, dread building as he anticipated the worst. What he heard on the other end of the phone was exasperated sobs from his mother. “M-mom! Please... relax.”
“Oh Bart! I'm so glad you're alright.” Marge cried.
“Yeah yeah... I'm fine. Really,” Bart answered impatiently. He really hated to interrupt his mother's emotional rejoicing in the fact that he was alright, but he needed answers.
“What's this about Milhouse being in an accident?” asked Bart urgently, his hand wavering slightly as he held the phone up to his ear.
“There was this freak accident, a hit and run and Milhouse is in ICU at the moment, but he's stable thank goodness. Oh Bart...” Marge paused to catch her breath, her voice strained with both grief and relief. “I thought you might have been with him when it happened since you didn't come home
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In his darkened room, Bart sat on the edge of the bed, feet planted firmly on the floor and his elbows resting on his knees as he told Bob all of the details that his hazy memory could provide of the scene he'd witnessed.
“I remember that my last thoughts before loosing consciousness were full of regret. Regret for yelling at Milhouse. I had no idea that things were about to end up like... like that. That Milhouse would end up...” Bart looked down to his hands, forgetting for a moment that this was Bob that he was spilling his innermost thoughts to. He took a deep, steadying breath, closing himself off a little. Really, Bob had asked him about the potential crime he had witnessed, not a complete rundown of his emotional state and of his tentative relationship with Milhouse. Bob cleared his throat, likely feeling awkward at the emotional display himself.
“Did you recognize the man dragging the black bag?” asked Bob, steering them back to
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Disclaimer: The characters belong to Matt Groening and Fox Network. I get nothing for using them.
Synopsis: When Waylon Smithers decided to enter his Malibu Stacey Musical in Springfield's Amateur Theatre festival he could never guess it would cause Mr. Burns so much anxiety
Charles Montgomery Burns was signing some contracts when his assistant entered his office. At first the old plutocrat thought that the younger man was there to bring another set of papers for him to sign, but he quickly realised that this was not the case. The younger man held nothing.
"I'm listening," he said and leaned back on his chair.
"Well sir... I was wondering... if it could be possible that is..."
"Oh spit it out Smithers, I haven't got all day!" the older man said impatiently.
"Well as you know the Springfield Amateur Theatre Fe
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A/N: The first of the three requested snippets from my DA meme post.
It was creepy. Smithers knew it was, but that didn't really stop him. He stared at his boss and only took his eyes away when the old man felt the weight of his loyal employee's gaze. Burns scoffed. Smithers had the idea that Burns knew about his crush, but had decided that it was better to ignore it than note it.
Burns had ordered his desk swiveled around so that he could monitor his drones performing menial exercises outside in the parking lot. Burns' whims were cruel (on occasion) and he had desired cheering up, so every single nuclear power plant employee (with the exception of Smithers) were performing sorely needed stretches, push ups, and sit ups. Homer Simpson had fallen, panting, from the first attempt and the supervisor prodded him with a long stick. Burns had opened the windows, so Smithers heard Homer's labored pant and groan, waving the man off weakly.
"Look at them, Smither