Simpsons Porn

Simpsons Porn Story: Banjos Beauty Queens and Broken Hearts Chapter 4

Simpsons Porn Story: Banjos Beauty Queens and Broken Hearts Chapter 4

AUTHORESS’S NOTE: I’m sorry for the extremely long delay in posting any new chapters. I’ve been very busy with school, writing my novel, et cetera, but I’ve decided to start adding to my fics again. Thank you all for reading and reviewing! It really means a lot to me. Please
continue read and review. Thank you. :)

CHAPTER FOUR:

The next day, I sat in my office with cold sweat seeping
into my back and ten breaths fighting for favor at once. I had not yet seen Mr.
Burns all morning, and glancing at my watch, I saw that it was 10:16 already.
Mr. Burns had always come in at least by 9:00, and I was growing more anxious
by the minute. I tried to take a sip of the green tea latte I had bought earlier
but my hand just shook as I picked it up and the tea itself had become an
unpleasantly tepid.

I put the cup back down and attempted to focus on my work. I
had piles of it to do, and so far, I had only taken care of correcting a few
billing errors. It had been my most unproductive day in my entire career as an
executive. I felt simply awful, reflecting on the humiliating events of the
past night, theorizing about how it would affect my friendship with Mr. Burns,
wishing my shallow desire for fame wouldnt have turned me into such a fool.

I stared at the piece of paper that seemed to have magically
appeared before me. I didnt even remember placing it there, but suddenly, I
was reading it, or at least trying to. The words all blurred together like they
were forming an inkblot. At this point, I grew so frustrated that I knocked one
whole pile of papers from my desk to the floor and rubbed the eyes veiled by my
glasses with helplessness. Then I heard
the voice.

Smithers, what in Gods name do you think youre doing? yelled
Mr. Burns, as he finally sauntered into our conjoined office space.

I quickly looked up at him and got down to the floor to
clean up the mess I caused. Im sorry, sir. I justmy hand slipped

Mr. Burns eyed me curiously, and I knew very well that he
had seen my display of rage as just that, but he said nothing more. He walked
to his desk and immediately began watching the employees on the surveillance
cameras.

Returning the last paper to my desk, I was tempted to ask Mr. Burns where he
had been all morning, but I decided not to. I sat back in my seat and tried to
concentrate on a complaint from the Springfield Environmental Council. It was a
bit easier to focus, just knowing that Mr. Burns was alive, well, and at work,
but that fact didnt by any means cure the rest of the nerves that were
swimming in my stomach.

For about an hour, Mr. Burns and I spoke not even a word to
one another. The day had won another record as the most silent day we had ever
spent at the plant. However, just as the clock struck 12, Mr. Burns spoke: Smithers,
come in here. Who is that?

I wandered into Mr. Burns office and took a seat next to
him, relieved that he was partaking in one of our usual routines and was
actually talking to me at all. Who is who, sir? I asked. Mr. Burns pointed to
a young, new worker I had hired a few months ago. Oh, thats David Polonski.
One of the few competent laborers from Sector 2-F.

And who is that? asked Mr. Burns, pointing now to a
gangly, middle-aged man whose face was flat on his control panel as he slept.

Garrett Bentley. Supervisor of Sector 4-J.

I want them both fired.

What? Why?

These tomfools think we dont put surveillance cameras in
the bathrooms, Mr. Burns sighed, shaking his head. And so I was forced to sit
here, watching them partake in one of those new-age kisses that repulsively utilize
not only the lips, but also the tongue.

Oh, I see, I said quietly. WellI know office romances
are looked down upon, but I dont think we need to fire them for it.

Its not that locale of the romance; its the fact that
there is a romance to begin with. Now go fire those sodomites and start hiring
for their positions posthaste.

My mouth hung open for a few moments before I have the
strength to ask: You want me to fire them because they arewell?

Yes, its still legal in this state to terminate based on
sexual preference, and even if it werent, youve never had a problem bending
or even breaking the law before. So, off you go. And on your way back, bring me
a strawberry jam biscuit for lunch.

I tried to remain calm. Sir, Polonski has proven over these
last few months that he has been working here that he is a very intelligible
man and a proficient worker, one of the few we have. Bentleys aptitude, on the
other hand, has declined slowly but surely, and I suppose I can see why he
should be fired, but Polonski

Smithers, wherefore are you arguing with me? I told you to
do something; now you shall do it, Mr. Burns said, anger slowly filling his
beautiful face.

No.

No?

I hesitated. I couldnt believe I had just said that
horrible word to Mr. Burns. I meanI disagree with your assessment of these
workers. Can we discuss it at length and make a final decision?

Mr. Burns eyes now bulged in a rather unbecoming way as he
shouted, Can we discuss it? Can we make a final decision? Whom do you
think you are, Smithers? You think because you got a couple songs on the radio that you’re the cock of the walk now? Well, you’re re not my equal. Youre not even close.

Every word was a new arrow in my heart, but I managed to
utter, Sir, I thought one of my job titles was as your advisor.

Perchance thats true, but youre only my advisor when I
want you to be, and this is not one of those times. Ive already made a decision, and now you
shall carry it out.

Butsir, Im only saying this for the good of the company.
We need Polonski.

Theres that we again, Mr. Burns said, now in a new,
truculent tone that made me shiver with tension. Smithers, Im very tempted to
believe that your only opposition to this termination is due to some perverse loyalty
you feel to your own kind of people.

How can you say that when I clearly stated that I had very
little qualm about firing Bentley?

Because Bentley is a homely, old man, while Polonski is
quite the handsome fellow, Mr. Burns said before blushing, cringing at his own
words, and adding, Well, at least, someone like you might think so.

Sir, I have no interest in Polonski. This whole thing is
preposterous. I began to instinctively tug at my bow tie, which was beginning
to feel like a live boa constrictor around my dripping neck.

Mr. Burns stared at me without a blink. So, then you should
have no problem firing him. Let me rephrase that: you will have no problem firing him. Because if you do, I will have no
problem firing you either. Believe me, after last night, I will have no problem
firing you.

I swallowed hard and tried to push emerging tears back down
their ducts. For the first time in my 25-year-old relationship with Mr. Burns,
I saw him look at me with nothing but hatred. It terrified and saddened me in
equal measure. I then nodded and turned to walk out the door, prepared to fire
the best worker we had hired in years and another worker that, while not a
wonderful employee, was still about ten times more efficient than a handful of
other oafs we kept under our wing.

Oh, and Smithers Mr. Burns started. I turned around to
face him. If you cant bring yourself to fire Polonski on my terms, just fire
him because hes Jewish. That will be good for a laugh too. Oh, and don’t forget that biscuit I wanted.

I nodded and said the same words I had said mindlessly about
a million times before: Yes, sir.