Archive of Our Own

The morning sun crept into the windows of 742 Evergreen Terrace, and Homer Simpson, bundled up in his blankets like a big toasty cinnamon bun, slowly opened his eyes.

Wait… where was Marge? Usually his wife was sleeping right next to him when he woke up. For a moment, he looked around, concerned.

But then, he heard the hissing of something frying, and began to smell hints of cooking oil in the air. Based on what he was hearing and smelling, his smooth, unintelligent brain began to put the pieces together: of course Marge wasn’t in bed with him when he woke up, she woke up early to do some cooking!

The promise of food was enough to lure him out of bed, creeping out of the bedroom and down the stairs. And as he made his way to the kitchen, the smell of cooking oil was accompanied by another smell, a delicious smell, one which Homer could recognize instantly.

Mmm… donuts!

And when he entered the kitchen, he saw his beautiful wife Marge, her cobalt-blue hair piled high on her head as always, frying up some homemade donuts in a large pot.

“Good morning, Homie!” she said, her hazel eyes lighting up as she turned towards him. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Marge.” Homer replied, hugging Marge from behind.

He nuzzled into his wife’s neck, and she giggled in response.

“I made your favorite food for breakfast, sweetie.” Marge said.

She gestured to the donuts she was making, which were heart-shaped.

“WOO HOO!” Homer exclaimed. “And they’re shaped like hearts! How sweet. You’re the best wife ever!”

“Thanks, Homie.” Marge said. “And you’re the best husband ever.”

Before long, Bart and Lisa made their way down the stairs, just as Marge had finished making donuts.

“Hi, kids!” Marge said. “I made a special breakfast for Valentine’s Day.”

“Cool.” Bart said, grabbing a donut.

As Bart and Lisa sat down at the breakfast table, Homer was shoving donut after donut into his mouth, with the unbridled glee of a kid in a candy store.

“So, do either of you have any plans for today?” Marge asked, curious. “Y’know, aside from school.”

“Well, there’s this concert at the Jazz Hole tonight.” Lisa said. “I got tickets for myself and Nelson, as well as one for Dad so we can have an adult there.”

“You’re taking Nelson to a jazz concert?” Bart said. “Does he even like jazz music?”

“He likes it when I play it.” Lisa said.

“I think he just likes seeing how good you are with your mouth and tongue.” Bart said. “It’s like seeing you make out with your instrument…”

“BART!” Lisa snapped.

“Hrmmm…” Marge grumbled, in her typical way. “Homer, please make sure those two aren’t doing anything… inappropriate, okay?”

“Will do!” Homer said.

With that, the Simpson family returned to eating their breakfast.

~❤~

Meanwhile, at 19 Fish Smell Drive, Nelson Muntz was getting dressed in his usual clothes, when his mom called his name.

“NELSON!” she hollered. “SOMEONE SENT YOU A LETTER!”

He ran into the living room, and his mother, clad in her bathrobe and smoking a cigarette, handed him an envelope, on which his name and address were written in pink glitter pen.

Nelson opened the envelope to find a Valentine’s card with a picture of two otters holding hands and the words “We were made for each otter”.

“That’s cute.” Nelson said.

He opened the card, and a ticket fell out of it. He picked up the ticket, and read what had been written inside the card.

Dearest Nelson,

Words cannot describe how much I love and cherish you. You occupy my thoughts every single day.

Enclosed is a ticket to a concert at the Jazz Hole. The concert is at 7:00, and my dad will pick you up. I look forward to seeing you there.

Love,

Lisa Simpson

“Awww, Lisa…” Nelson said. “Such a sweetheart.”

He went into his bedroom and placed the ticket and the card by his bedside. With that, he grabbed his backpack and headed towards the bus stop.

Before long, the bus to Springfield Junior High arrived, and he got on the bus and sat down.

Eventually, Bart got on the bus, as did Milhouse, who was holding and occasionally drinking from a bottle of apple juice. However, not long after the two of them sat down, the bus hit a speed bump, causing Milhouse to spill juice all over himself.

“HA HA!” Nelson said. “Guess you’re ‘Spillhouse’ now!”

Milhouse sighed, and turned back towards Bart.

“Aw, this sucks.” Milhouse complained. “Now I’m gonna be all sticky for the rest of the day.”

“Hey, don’t feel bad, Milhouse.” Bart said. “You can always take a shower after Gym.”

“But I don’t have Gym until fifth period!” Milhouse said.

“Better late than never.” Bart replied.

As the bus drove down Pikeland Avenue and parked in front of the Prince household, Milhouse’s attention was drawn to the house next door to it,  and the all-too-familiar man who had parked in its driveway and was emerging from his car- Seymour Skinner, principal of Springfield Elementary and Bart’s biggest rival.

“Bart, look! It’s Skinner!” Milhouse said, pointing towards the man as he retrieved his man-purse and his 11-month-old son from the back seat. “He must be visiting his mom or something.”

Grinning deviously, Bart opened the window and turned towards Skinner.

“HEY, PRINCIPAL STINKER!” Bart hollered. “ARE YOU GONNA TAKE YOUR MOMMY OUT ON A VALENTINE’S DATE?”

Skinner heard Bart’s voice, and sighed.

“No, I’m just here to drop my son off at her house, so she can-” he tried to explain.

“HEY!” Bart interrupted. “YO MAMA SO UGLY, SHE MAKES ONIONS CRY!”

“DON’T SAY THAT ABOUT MY MOTHER!” Skinner snapped back, defensively. “Though I will admit, she is quite ugly...”

“EAT MY SHORTS!” Bart yelled.

He closed the window, and the bus drove off.

“Even after that boy graduated from my school, I still can’t escape him.” Skinner said to himself, as he walked towards the door of what had once been his home.

~❤~

Upon hearing the doorbell ring, Agnes Skinner walked towards the door and opened it, revealing her son Seymour had come to pay her a visit. Her face lit up- not because Seymour was there, but because he was carrying her dear grandson, Simon Skinner-Chalmers, in his arms. And better yet, he was wearing that little blue hat she had knitted herself and given to him!

“There’s my little guy!” Agnes exclaimed.

Simon waved his tiny hand.

Agnes was endeared, but then looked up towards her son with a look in her eyes that indicated she was going to demand something.

“Seymour! Let me hold him!” she commanded.

Seymour handed Simon to Agnes, who  cradled him in her arms.

“Anyways, I made coffee.” Agnes said to her son. “Please come on in.”

“Well, I just came here to drop off Simon on my way to work,” Seymour said, “but I suppose I could go for a cup of coffee…”

“Good.” Agnes said. “I have a pot in the kitchen, and I have some cream as well, because you just aren’t man enough to drink it black.”

“Mother, the fact that I dislike black coffee does not make me less of a man.” Seymour said defensively, as he and Agnes walked towards the kitchen. “I just find that black coffee has a disagreeable taste.”

Soon, he and Agnes were in the kitchen. As Agnes ran her fingers through the small quiff of brown hair poking out from the hat, Seymour poured himself a cup of coffee, added four helpings of cream and a bit of sugar, and took a sip.

“Now, my husband Gary and I have a lot planned for today,” he said, “so you’ll be looking after him until… say… 7:30 tonight.”

“A whole day with my Simey-wimey?” Agnes exclaimed. “Well, I can’t wait! In fact, could you just go ahead and leave now so I can have more alone time with him?”

“Not yet, Mother. I have to give you a few guidelines in regards to taking care of him.” Seymour said.

He reached into his bag and pulled out a variety of baby-care supplies and two lists he had made.

“Simon likes his infant formula chilled.” Seymour explained. “Not that it should matter that much, as we’re weaning him off of formula. He can eat solid foods as long as they’re cut into small chunks, and I have provided a list of foods he loves and a list of foods he can’t stand. He takes two naps each day: one from 9:30 to 11:30, and one from 3:00 to 5:00. Oh, and he also needs background noise to fall asleep, so play this CD of relaxing music for him. He is also teething, and will only use this specific teething ring. You also have to read to him for at least thirty minutes a day, or else-”

“Alright, alright! I get it!” Agnes said, annoyed.

Seymour finished his cup of coffee, walked over towards Simon (who was still in Agnes’ arms), and gave him a pat on the head.

“Alright, Simon,” he said to his son, “I’ve gotta go to work now, and Grandmother is going to take care of you. So be good, alright?”

“Okay, Pinc-pal Dada.” Simon replied.

Because Simon had two dads, he couldn’t just refer to them both as “Dada”, so Seymour proposed he refer to them by their occupational titles (“Principal” and “Superintendent”) as well as their parental one. Only issue was, Simon couldn’t really pronounce “principal” or “superintendent”; they came out as “pinc-pal” and “supa-ten-den”.

Seymour kissed Simon on the forehead, and went off to his car.

“SEYMOUR!” Agnes snapped. “Where’s my goodbye kiss?”

With an exasperated sigh, Seymour walked back over to his mother and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Well, I’d best get going.” he said. “Have a nice day, you two! And happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Seymour.” Agnes said.

“Bye-bye!” Simon piped up.

As Seymour’s car drove off, Agnes sat down on the couch in the living room, placing Simon on her lap. She then sighed and grabbed a nearby framed photo of her and her late husband, Sheldon Skinner, on their wedding day. 

“My Valentine’s Days have always been so lonely ever since Sheldon died.” she said. “He was the perfect husband for me. So kind, so brave, and so submissive. He loved my fiery personality, and I loved the lengths he would go to in order to keep me happy. Back then, it was rare for a man to take orders from his wife, but that’s part of what made him so special to me. I knew I could never find another man like him. And despite all my searching for a new husband after he died, I never did.”

She placed the photo back on the coffee table.

“But there are other types of love.” she continued, turning towards Simon. “Like familial love. The love I have for you.”

The two of them then heard an airplane flying overhead, which piqued Simon’s curiosity.

“You wondering what that noise is?” Agnes said to the baby. “That’s an airplane, Simon. Or at least I think it’s an airplane.”

Picking up Simon once again, Agnes walked out onto the front porch to see what was making that noise. When she did, she saw a skywriter, which had written “I LOVE YOU” in the sky and was now beginning to write another letter.

“See, Simon? It’s an airplane!” Agnes said. “Can you say ‘airplane’?”

“Aeya-pwane.” Simon said.

“Very good, sweetie!” Agnes exclaimed, giving her grandson a hug.

Looking back up at the skywriter, she noticed it had written a letter “M” and was now writing an “O”.

“I love you… Mother?” Agnes said, guessing what the skywriter was writing. “Awww, Seymour, I knew you’d do something nice for me…”

The skywriter then finished the “O” and began to write an “N”.

“Dammit.” Agnes said under her breath. “I set my hopes too high.”

~❤~

At the same time, in front of the Springfield Nuclear Power Plant, C. Montgomery Burns, the CEO of the power plant, looked up at what the skywriter had written, his husband and assistant Waylon Burns (né Smithers) standing close by and holding his hand.

“I… love… you… Monty.” Mr. Burns read, before turning towards his husband. “Awww, Waylon, you shouldn’t have!”

He wrapped his arms around Waylon and threw himself towards him, and Waylon returned the hug and kissed his husband’s forehead.

In the days leading up to Valentine’s Day, Waylon had been spoiling Monty with grand romantic gestures, paid for with the share of the Burns family fortune he gained through marriage. He had brought candles to the SNPP Cafeteria so they could eat lunch by candlelight. He had taken Monty on a romantic carriage ride through the city. He had written a song dedicated to Monty and performed it in the break room. He commissioned a sculptor to sculpt a marble statue depicting him holding Monty in a bridal carry and kissing him, and had that statue displayed in Springfield’s art museum. He had filled a hot tub with rose petals and sweet-smelling oils, and he and Monty bathed in it together. He had served his husband nantaimori- sushi served on his own naked body- for dinner. And he had flown in all four members of ABBA from Sweden for a private concert at Burns Manor the night before Valentine’s Day.

At this point, all the other workers at the Springfield Nuclear Power Plant were either endeared by the depth of Waylon’s love, jealous that their partners hadn’t gone to the same lengths, or annoyed at how sickly-sweet Waylon was towards his shriveled goblin of a husband.

“Anyways, we should go inside now.” Mr. Burns said. “You know I have no natural insulation against the cold winter air.”

“Of course, sir.” Waylon said. “Let me get the door for you.”

He held the door like a gentleman, letting Burns walk inside the power plant, before following behind him. Once they were both inside, Waylon took Mr. Burns’ delicate hand in his, and the two of them walked towards the elevator. Once they were inside, Waylon pressed the top-floor button, and the door closed.

“Waylon, my darling…” Mr. Burns said to his husband, “let me thank you for that nice message you wrote.”

Placing his hands on either side of Waylon’s face, he pulled his husband into a tender kiss. The kiss deepened, until they were straight-up making out like lovestruck teenagers. As the elevator went up, so too did their heart rates as they surrendered to desire, not caring that they were technically in a public space. Ties were loosened, shirts were unbuttoned, hair was tousled as they expressed their love to each other with their bodies.

That is, until they noticed the elevator had stopped on one of the floors, and a dumbfounded Homer Simpson was staring at them with wide eyes.

“…Oh, dearie me, is this awkward.” Mr. Burns said, his face flushed from embarrassment. “Waylon! Close the elevator door!”

“Yes, sir.” Waylon said, pressing the button to close the door.

As the elevator door closed and the elevator resumed its journey upwards,  they both re-buttoned their shirts and re-tied their ties. That incident snapped the two of them back into the “we’re in public” mindset, and they exchanged nervous glances once their clothes were put back on.

Eventually, they arrived at the top floor, and Waylon led his husband by the hand towards his office. And once the two of them walked into Mr. Burns’ office, Mr. Burns was treated to a beautiful sight: every inch of his desk had been covered in flowers.

Roses and carnations, daffodils and gardenias, sunflowers and amaranths, hyacinths and asters, poppies and cornflowers, morning glories and camellias. All on his desk, a beautiful kaleidoscope of color and scent.

“Waylon…” Mr. Burns said, “d-did you put all these flowers on my desk?”

“Yes, I did.” Waylon said. “I wanted to beautify your office and show you how much I loved you, so I had a florist arrange all of your favorite flowers on this desk.”

“Oh, thank you so much!” Mr. Burns said, wrapping his arms around his husband. “You spoil me, my Waylon.”

“It is my job, sir.” Waylon replied.

“Now, let’s get to work, dear.” Mr. Burns said. “It may be a holiday, but we still have a plant to run.”

“Alright, sir.” Waylon replied, walking over to his own, smaller desk (which was in the same room) and sitting down. “I’ll check and see if all the employees are here.”

There was a brief pause as Waylon pulled up a time-and-attendance program on his work computer that monitored when the SNPP employees clocked in and out of work. As he did so, Burns turned towards him from his own desk.

“You know, Waylon, it’s only been two hours since I awoke, and you’ve already made this Valentine’s Day magical.” Mr. Burns said.

“And so did you, sir.” Waylon replied. “I just hope that guy who saw us making out isn’t, like, telling the entire plant about it.”

~❤~

“LENNY! CARL!” Homer said, running towards his coworkers. “You’ll never guess what I just saw.”

“Was it that message in the sky?” Carl said. “Because we all saw that, Homer.”

“No, this was something I saw while I was in the building.” Homer said. “So, this morning, I decided ‘You know what? I’m gonna take the stairs today.’ And after climbing up the stairs for some time, I realized ‘Wait, this is too tiring.’, and so I decided to take the elevator the rest of the way. So I pressed the button for an elevator going up, and when the elevator door opened, I saw Mr. Burns and… uh… the other Mr. Burns (y’know, the guy who used to be “Mr. Smithers”), in the elevator, intensely making out. Like, their shirts were open and everything.”

He then leaned in closer to Lenny and Carl.

“And I, uh…” he whispered. “I saw one of Mr. Burns’ nipples.”

“Ewwww!” Carl and Lenny said in unison, disgusted by the thought of Mr. Burns’ bare chest (on account of how old and decrepit he was).

“Yeah. It was like walking in on your grandpa while he’s undressing.” Homer said. “So, you two got any plans tonight?”

“Well, we don’t have girlfriends or anything, but we’re going out for dinner tonight anyways, as friends.” Lenny said. “We’re calling it ‘Pal-entine’s Day’.”

“Riiiiight. ‘As friends’.” Homer said, doing air quotes. “You keep telling yourself that.”

“Anyways, we should probably actually get to work now.” Carl said.

“O-kay!” Homer said.

As Homer made his way to his station at Sector 7-G and sat down, Lenny and Carl went to their stations, and told their coworkers about what Homer just told them- that Mr. Burns and his husband were making out in the elevator.

And from there, over time, the gossip mutated as it was passed from employee to employee.

“Mr. Burns and his husband were making love in the elevator?”

“Mr. Burns was going down on his husband in the elevator?”

“Mr. Burns made it so the elevator only goes down?”

“The elevator went down and burned?”

“The elevator caught on fire somehow?”

“Someone was smoking in the elevator and started a fire?”

“Someone was smoking weed in the elevator?”

“One guy in an elevator smoked weed and everyone else got high from the smoke?”

“The elevator went too high and everyone got stuck there?”

“A bunch of people got stuck in an elevator and they all fought each other?” one secretary finally concluded once the gossip reached her. “Hold on. I gotta tell my sister about this.”

She dialed her sister’s number on her phone.

“Hey, Michelle!” she said. “You’ll never believe what happened at the power plant. There was a big fight in the elevator.”

~❤~

“Really? No way!” Michelle, who worked at a photography studio in Springfield, said on the other end of the phone. “It’s a good thing you weren’t caught up in that fight.”

The door of the studio then opened, and in walked Agnes Skinner, dragging a wheeled suitcase with one hand and cradling a baby with another.

“Anyways, I’ve got a customer I have to deal with right now.” she said. “Talk to you later. Bye!”

She hung up the phone.

“Hello there, ma’am.” Michelle said to Agnes. “You must be that woman who called me 30 minutes ago about doing a photoshoot with your grandson. Mrs. Skipper, was it?”

“It’s Skinner, you idiot!” Agnes snapped. “But yes, that was me. I brought some outfits for us to dress up in.”

She patted her suitcase, which contained the outfits.

“Okay. Just pay me the money and we can start the photoshoot.” Michelle said.

Agnes paid her the money, and before long, she and Simon were standing in front of a green-screen, with Michelle behind the camera.

“Okay, Simey-wimey,” Agnes said in a high-pitched, cooing voice, “can you smile for the camera?”

Simon did not smile for the camera. With a sigh of “do I have to do this?”, Agnes pulled out a picture of Seymour Skinner.

“Who’s this?” she cooed. “It’s your daddy! It’s Seymour!”

Simon’s face lit up at the sight of his dad.

“Alright!” Michelle said. “You guys ready?”

“Yes!” Agnes said.

“Okay. Say cheese!” she said.

With that, Michelle began to take a series of photos.

First, about five photos of Agnes and Simon in their normal clothes, most of them depicting Agnes hugging Simon tightly, and one of them depicting Agnes kissing Simon on the cheek.

“So cute!” Michelle exclaimed.

Then, Agnes put on a fancy dress and a feather boa, and Simon put on a suit and tie. Michelle took a few photos of them in those outfits, with Agnes striking “supermodel poses” and Simon giving a thumbs-up to the camera at one point.

“Fabulous!” Michelle said.

After that, Agnes put Simon in a black cat onesie, and dressed herself up as a witch, with a black dress, a matching witch hat, black eye shadow, and dark purple lipstick. They took some photos like that, with one of them depicting the two of them “riding” on a broom.

“You make an amazing witch and familiar.” Michelle said.

After cleaning off the witch makeup with a wipe, Agnes dressed herself and Simon in clown costumes (with the accompanying makeup as well), and they took a few clown photos.

“Terrifying. Never wear that outfit again.” Michelle said to Agnes.

Once they were out of their clown costumes and makeup, Agnes then put on a baseball cap, a track suit, a whistle, and a shirt that said “COACH”, and dressed Simon up like a basketball player, complete with a little basketball for him to hold. They took some pictures like that, and in one of those pictures, Simon threw the basketball and Michelle snapped him mid-throw.

“He scores!” Michelle exclaimed.

Finally, Agnes put on overalls, a button-up shirt, a wide-brimmed hat, and gardening gloves, and dressed Simon up like a little flower. She then placed Simon in a large flowerpot, and Michelle took pictures as Agnes “planted” him in the pot and “watered” him with a watering can.

“Adorable!” Michelle said. “I’ll green-screen in the appropriate backgrounds, print off the pictures, and send them to you. They’ll be ready within 2 to 3 business days.”

“Wonderful.” Agnes said. “I look forward to hanging them on my walls and my fridge!”

She then got out her phone and took a picture of herself and Simon in their gardener and flower costumes, before changing into her normal clothes and doing the same for Simon. Packing all the costumes back in her suitcase, she left the building and walked towards her car, where she put the suitcase in the trunk and Simon in a carseat in one of the back seats.

“Okay, Spanky Jr., now that we’ve got those photos taken,” she said to Simon, “let’s go home so I can read to you.”

She then pulled out her phone.

“But first, let me tell Seymour about what we did.” she said.

She texted the picture of her and Simon in their costumes to Seymour, accompanied by the message “Simon and I got professional photos taken!”

She then placed her phone back in her purse, pressed the gas pedal, and drove back to her house.

~❤~

In his office at Springfield Elementary, Seymour Skinner received the text, and upon seeing that Agnes dressed Simon up like a flower, he sighed.

“He’s going to hate that photo when he gets older.” he said to himself.

Skinner then heard the sound of the school bus pulling in and parking in front of the school- as it usually did in the early afternoon. However, it was then followed by a low creaking sound, which piqued his curiosity.

“Hm…” he said. “I’ll have to go see what’s making that noise.”

He walked through the halls, trying to locate the source of the sound, only to find that it was coming from the front of the school. As he walked towards the front door, the creaking noise was accompanied by other noises; rock music playing, the moans of a young woman, and an oddly familiar grunting noise.

And when Principal Skinner opened the front door, he saw the bus was rocking up and down, and Otto, the bus driver, wasn’t in the driver’s seat- or anywhere that he could see from the outside, for that matter.

And with a loud moan in what was unmistakably Otto’s voice, coming from inside the bus somewhere, it became blatantly clear what was going on.

“OH, AAAASHLEEEEEY!!!”

Furious, Principal Skinner pounded on the outside of the bus with his fist.

“OTTO MANN!” he said in a commanding tone. “WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING?”

Otto’s head popped up, visible from one of the windows of the bus, and he scrambled to put his clothes on.

“Oh! Uh, hi, Mr. Skinner.” Otto said. “I was just, uh, doing a thing with my girlfriend, and, uh-”

“You were having SEX!” Skinner hissed. “On a SCHOOL BUS! IN FRONT of an ELEMENTARY SCHOOL!”

“Look, man,” Otto replied, now clothed (albeit with a backwards shirt), “I wanted to take my girlfriend out for lunch for Valentine’s Day, but I don’t own a car and I can’t afford one, so I just… drove her to lunch on the bus. And then she said she wanted to ‘get bizzay’ after lunch, and who was I to turn that down? And besides, I was gonna drop her off after I plowed her anyways.”

“You know you can always rent a car, right, Otto?” Skinner said. “You’re a grown man. Nothing is stopping you.”

“Oh.” Otto said.

He then turned back towards his girlfriend, who was still in the bus.

“Ashley,” he said, “as soon as I have another long weekend or something, we’re renting a car, driving to Vegas, and gettin’ hitched!”

“YEAH!” Ashley said. “I can’t wait!”

“Alright. I’d better get back to my job.” Principal Skinner said. “Make sure your girlfriend gets back home.”

“Alright, dude.” Otto said.

And as Skinner went back into the school building, Otto stepped on the gas and quickly rushed through the town, towards the apartment complex where Ashley lived. He dropped her off and drove back to the school, but on his way, he drove by a little comic book store called The Android’s Dungeon, where a very fat man behind the counter of the store was making a phone call.

~❤~

“What do you mean, there’s ‘no more seats’?” Jeff Albertson, better known as “Comic Book Guy”, said angrily. “I just want to treat my wife to a nice dinner! Why don’t you have any more reservations?”

There was a brief pause, as the voice on the other end of the phone told him he should have made a reservation before Valentine’s Day actually happened.

“Oh, well, excuuuuuse me for being a busy man who doesn’t have time to plan things out in advance.” Comic Book Guy snarked. “You, sir, have just lost a customer. I shall never visit your establishment again. …Unless I’m really craving it. BUT MY POINT STILL STANDS.”

He angrily hung up the phone, and dialed another restaurant.

Meanwhile, on the top floor of the Android’s Dungeon (which had been added two years prior to serve as a living space for Comic Book Guy and his family), Kumiko Albertson, his wife, was tending to their two children, Selina and Hikaru, when she overheard his angry phone calls.

“He sounds upset.” she said. “Wait here, you two. Mommy’s gonna go check on Daddy.”

Kumiko went downstairs and saw Comic Book Guy angrily complaining to another restaurant about them not having any reservations left.

“ARGH!” he said, over the phone. “Go step on a Lego, you horrid woman!”

He hung up the phone.

“Oh, hello, my beautiful goddess.” he said, noticing she was there. “I’ve been calling every sit-down restaurant in town, and all of them are booked solid for this evening. All I wanted to do was take you out for a nice dinner this Valentine’s Day, but I can’t.”

“Jeff-kun, you don’t need to take me out for a fancy dinner to show you love me.” Kumiko said. “We can have dinner at home.”

“But Kumiko,” he replied, “I wanted to treat you to something special!”

“Every day is already special when I’m with you.” Kumiko replied, wrapping her arms around him in a hug.

“Awwww, Kumiko…” Comic Book Guy said, returning the hug.

~❤~

Some time later, the final school bell rang at Springfield Elementary, and as the kids all piled into the bus to go home, Principal Skinner was leading Groundskeeper Willie to the detention room.

“Willie, I’ll need you to supervise detention today.” he explained. “Just make sure these kids are being quiet and well-behaved.”

“Ach! Great.” Willie replied. “Babysittin’ wee ones for the next hour.”

Despite his reluctance, Willie did as he was told and entered the detention room.

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” Skinner said, “I have a hot date with my husband tonight.”

With that, he walked through the halls towards the nearest doorway leading out of the school, and from there, headed towards his car. Once he got into his car, he drove to the office of the Springfield Unified School District, where Superintendent Chalmers worked, and parked in front of the building. He then called the superintendent on his cell phone.

Meanwhile, inside the building, Gary Chalmers noticed his husband was calling him, and picked up the phone.

“SKIN-NERRRRRR!” he said, in his usual way. “What do you want?”

“I’m ready for our date, Gary.” the principal replied. “I’m outside your office building right now.”

Chalmers looked out the window of his office, and sure enough, he saw Seymour Skinner parked outside with a big grin on his face. Skinner then honked his horn twice to get Chalmers’ attention.

“I’ll be right down, Seymour.” Chalmers responded.

With that, he put down his phone, packed up his briefcase, and left his office, eventually emerging from the building and walking over to Skinner’s car. He then opened the passenger-side door so he could sit down next to his husband.

“Hello, Seymour.” Chalmers said. “Looks like someone’s excited to see me.”

“Ah, Superintendent Chalmers, welcome!” Skinner said. “I hope you’re prepared for an unforgettable date!”

With that, Chalmers closed the door and buckled himself in, and Skinner started the car and began to drive.

Skinner had not told Chalmers where, exactly, he was taking him for their date. It was a surprise. And Gary was excited to know what that place was gonna be. Maybe it would be the Gilded Truffle, or the opera house, or some place like that! That would be very romantic.

However, their ultimate destination turned out to be… the Springfield Natural History Museum.

“…This is it?” Chalmers said. “This is where we’re having our ‘hot date’?”

“Yes.” Skinner replied, smiling widely. “It’s one of my favorite places in all of Springfield. I thought it would be a nice place for us to go on a date.”

“Well, Seymour, I have to commend you for thinking outside the box.” Chalmers replied. “And, regardless, I’m very excited for this date. Because everything is better with you by my side.”

“Awwww, Gary!” Skinner said, swooning. “Without further ado, let us proceed into the museum.”

And with that, the two of them walked into the museum, hand in hand, side by side.

~❤~

Back at the Simpson house, Bart and Lisa, who had recently arrived home from school, were sitting down on the couch to watch their favorite TV show, The Krusty the Clown Show. (Though, in Bart’s case, he was in the stage of his life when he pretended not to like it in public for fear of seeming childish, but secretly watched it in private.)

“Maggie!” Lisa said, calling out to her little sister. “Krusty’s almost on!”

“Yay! Krusty!” Maggie said, running into the living room and planting herself on the couch with her siblings.

And as Maggie’s legs swung back and forth with excitement, the theme song for The Krusty the Clown Show began to play, and the newest episode started rolling.

“Hey hey, kids!” Krusty said, before laughing in his usual way.

The audience cheered.

“Now, since it’s Valentine’s Day, this episode is gonna be a Big V-Day Special!” Krusty said. “So, put your hands together and give a warm welcome to my lovely wife, Lois!”

Lois Krustofsky (née Pennycandy) then walked onto the stage, waving to the kids.

“Hello there!” she said. “I’m so excited to be here on the show.”

“So, let’s get this special started with our old friends Itchy and Scratchy!” Krusty said.

And with that, an Itchy and Scratchy cartoon then began to play.

~❤~

Meanwhile, at the museum, Skinner and Chalmers had made their way through the dinosaur exhibit.

“That was incredible, Seymour!” Chalmers said. “It’s so amazing to think that those creatures walked the earth long ago.”

“Indeed.” Skinner said. “Now, this museum also has an exceptional collection of animal specimens. Including my favorite exhibit in this museum: the bird exhibit. Let’s go take a look at it, shall we?”

“Alright, honey.” Chalmers said, as the two of them walked towards the bird exhibit, in which several taxidermied birds were on display.

Once they arrived, Skinner was excitedly pointing towards every bird specimen and rattling off facts about them, and Chalmers listened contently with a smile on his face. He had never had an interest in ornithology before meeting Skinner, but just hearing Skinner info-dump about something he was passionate about was always a delight for him.

“Gary. LOOK. A mute swan.” Skinner said, wrapping an arm around his husband and pointing towards a taxidermied swan. “That’s my mother’s favorite bird. When I was a boy, my parents and I would often have picnics in the park, and my mother would always set down our blanket near a pond where a family of swans lived. She liked watching them glide across the water. And I don’t blame her, as they’re very fascinating animals. They mate for life and are known to grieve for their dead mates. And they’re surprisingly aggressive, especially when defending their young; in fact, there have been a few accounts of fully grown dogs being killed by angered swans.”

“Well, I can see why Agnes likes them.” Chalmers snarked. “Not only are they pretty and stuff, they’re overly protective of their kids and unnecessarily aggressive, just like her.”

“Oh, and here’s my favorite bird! The common raven!” Skinner said, pointing to a raven specimen. “It’s one of the most intelligent birds in the animal kingdom. They're great problem-solvers, can readily imitate the sounds of other animals (including humans), can recognize human faces, are the only vertebrates aside from humans that can talk about things that are far away in space and time, and in terms of creative thinking, are comparable to chimps and orangutans. Is it any wonder why the Norse associated them with Odin, the god of wisdom?”

“Fascinating!” Chalmers replied. “That explains why they’re used to send messages in A Song of Ice and Fire.”

“Indeed.” Skinner said. “They’re also known to partner up with wolves when hunting, and in return, the wolves share their food with them. They’ve even been seen playing with wolf pups!”

“Awww.” Chalmers said.

“And,” Skinner continued, “they have these amazing mating rituals where they do aerial acrobatics and demonstrate their intelligence to impress mates.”

Chalmers then smirked seductively, before grabbing his husband’s necktie and pulling him close.

“Well, Seymour, this wing of the museum is pretty empty…” he said, “so what do you say we do a little ‘mating ritual’ of our own?”

Skinner blushed.

“I don’t see why not…” he replied demurely.

And without warning, Gary’s lips crashed into Seymour’s, and there, among the birds, the two began making out. They didn’t care that they were in public, because there weren’t many people visiting the museum that day. So, as a hundred glassy eyes looked on, they kissed and hugged and grabbed at each other like no one else was there.

But eventually, their lips parted, and the two took a moment to recollect themselves.

“Oh, that was wonderful, my dear.” Skinner said. “Now, on with the museum tour!”

And as if nothing had happened, Skinner and Chalmers continued on through the museum.

~❤~

At the same time, at Krustylu Studios, the crew was scrambling to get a bunch of game show set pieces on the stage during a commercial break. One of the segments Krusty wanted to do for his Valentine’s Day Special was a game show in the style of The Newlywed Game, where he and his wife would compete alongside 2 other couples. And if Krusty wanted something on his show, by golly,  he would have it.

Speak of the devil, Krusty was in his dressing room with his wife Lois: he, smoking a cigarette, and she, touching up her makeup.

“Krusty, I thought you promised to cut back on smoking ever since our daughter Livna was born.” Lois said, sternly. “And even still, you shouldn’t be doing it indoors.”

“Whaddaya mean? This is my dressing room.” Krusty said. “It’s not like anyone else is gonna be in here.”

As if to prove him wrong, Sideshow Mel then opened the door.

“Krusty, you’re on in-” Mel began, before being cut off by a violent coughing fit.

“See? I told you.” Lois said.

Before long, the set was properly decorated, and they were back on. Sideshow Mel stood on one side of the stage behind a podium, and on the other side of the stage sat three married couples, one of which was Krusty and Lois. The camera then zoomed in on the aforementioned couple.

“And… action!”

“Welcome back to the Krusty the Clown Show Valentine’s Day Special!” Lois exclaimed. “Now, one of the most important parts of any relationship is getting to know each other.”

“So today, we, and 2 other couples, are gonna see how much we really know about each other.” Krusty said. “By playing a fun game!”

The camera then zoomed out to show the game-show set, and the studio audience cheered.

“Welcome to the Valentine Game!” Sideshow Mel said. “Now, today, three pairs of sweethearts are going to be asked a series of questions to see how well they really know each other. But first, let’s introduce our contestants!”

As he announced the couples, they showed up on camera.

“Starting off with couple number 1: the star of this show, Krusty…” he said, pausing so the audience could applaud, “…and his Valentine, the sweet secretary behind the scenes, Lois!”

The audience applauded, and Krusty and Lois waved and smiled.

“Next, couple number 2: a blast from this show’s past, Sideshow Bob… and his Valentine, all the way from Italy, Francesca!”

Unbeknownst to the cast and studio audience, back at the Simpson household, Bart saw who was on TV and screamed “AAAAH! SIDESHOW BOB!”

“And last but not least, couple number 3: Channel 6’s own news anchor Kent Brockman… and his Valentine, the Channel 6 weather woman, Stephanie!”

Kent and Stephanie waved to the crowd as they applauded.

“Our first question is for the girls. What is your favorite dessert?” Mel said. “Girls, write down your answers; boys, write down what you think they’re going to say.”

The couples all wrote down their answers on dry-erase boards.

“Alright, let’s see your answers, starting with couple number 1.” Mel said. “Krusty, what do you think Lois’ favorite dessert is?”

“Banana cream pie!” Krusty said, before throwing a pie in her face.

Lois giggled.

“Well, you’re close.” Lois said. “It’s cherry pie.”

“Sorry.” Mel said. “No points for you, Krusty. What about you, couple number 2?”

“Oh, I’ve known what my wife’s favorite dessert is ever since our first date,” Sideshow Bob said, “when she took me out to get some gelato.”

He held up his board, showing that he had written “gelato”.

“It is gelato!” Francesca said, holding up her answer.

Bob and Francesca celebrated their win by hugging each other tightly.

“Alright! Couple number 2 gets a point.” Sideshow Mel said. “And couple number 3?”

“Based on my insider knowledge of our relationship,” Kent Brockman said, “my wife’s favorite dessert is chocolate chip cookies.”

“What? No!” Stephanie Brockman replied. “It’s cheesecake!”

“Then why do you always make chocolate chip cookies at home?” Kent asked his wife.

“Because they’re easy to make!” Stephanie replied.

“Oh… I’m sorry, no points for you.” Mel said. “Next question! This is for the guys. What would you say is your greatest talent? Guys, write down your answers, and girls, write down what you’d say their best talent is.”

The three couples all wrote down their answers.

“We’ll start with couple number 1.” Mel said. “Lois, what is Krusty’s best talent?”

“I put down ‘juggling’.” Lois said. “He’s very good at that.”

“I said ‘juggling’ too!” Krusty exclaimed.

Krusty and Lois squealed with delight.

“Congratulations! You get a point!” Mel said. “Now, couple number 2? What were your answers?”

“Singing!” Francesca said. “My Roberto is an amazing singer.”

“Guilty as charged.” Bob said, showing that he also put down “singing”.

“Another point for Bob and Francesca!” Mel said. “And finally, couple number 3.”

“His ability to tie a cherry stem into a knot with his tongue.” Stephanie said, holding up her answer.

“Really?” Kent said. “And not my ability to improvise whenever an unexpected development occurs while I’m reporting on something?”

“That’s not really a talent, Kent.” Stephanie said. “It’s just a thing your job requires you to do.”

“Once again, no points.” Mel said. “And our next question: girls, do you prefer to take showers in the morning, or at night? Write down your answers, and boys, write down what you think they prefer.”

The six contestants wrote down their answers.

“Alright! Answer time!” Mel said. “Krusty and Lois? What did you answer?”

“From what I remember, she prefers to take showers at night.” Krusty said.

“I do!” Lois replied.

“A point for couple number 1!” Mel said. “How about you, Bob and Francesca?”

“Morning showers.” Bob said. “My Francesca is something of a morning person. She wakes up with the sunrise each day, and usually has to drag me out of bed.”

“Yes! I take showers in the morning.” Francesca said.

“You get a point!” Mel said. “And couple number 3?”

“Well, as my wife once put it,” Kent said, “each night before she goes to bed, you can expect showers with a chance of fog for 30 minutes, followed by a 90% chance of a good night’s sleep.”

“Kent, that was cute when I said it,” Stephanie said, “but when you say it, it just sounds awkward. But yes. I take showers at night.”

“You got a point!” Mel said.

“FINALLY.” Stephanie said.

“We’re at the halfway point now,” Mel said, “and from now on, the questions will be a bit more difficult, but will be worth double points.”

The audience “ooh”ed.

“Alright, our first double-point question: boys, what was the name of your first-ever pet?” Mel said. “Write down your answers, and girls, write down what you predict they will say.”

Lois and Krusty had the same answer,  “Gillbert”- the name of a pet fish Krusty had when he was a kid- though Lois spelled it with only one “L”. Francesca correctly said the name of Sideshow Bob’s childhood cat- “Desdemona”- and they got the 2 points. And while Stephanie guessed “Buddy” as the name of Kent’s first pet (a dog), Kent’s answer was actually “Sparky”.

The next question, which was for the girls, was “if you ended up in prison, what crime do you think you would be imprisoned for?”

Krusty said “my Lois would NEVER go to prison, she’s just too nice”, but Lois said “arson”. Bob and Francesca both had the same answer, “murder”- continuing their hot streak. And Kent said “stealing something”, while Stephanie said “shoplifting”, which got them 2 points, as her answer was just a more specific version of his.

Finally, the boys were asked the last question: “what is the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you?”

The contestants all wrote down their answers. Before long, they were all ready to answer.

“The most embarrassing thing that happened to Krusty has got to be when he had a heart attack on screen.” Lois said.

“Bingo!” Krusty said, revealing he had written down the same thing.

“Two points for you!” Mel said. “How about you, Bob and Francesca?”

“If I am not mistaken,” Francesca said, “he once told me about how he forgot his lines on stage when he was a boy.”

“Yes!” Bob said. “I was in a production of Love’s Labour’s Lost when I was ten, and I was playing the part of Armado’s page. I forgot one of my lines, and the actor playing Armado had to whisper them in my ear. I was deeply ashamed, and my mother, a Shakespearean actress, would not let me hear the end of it.”

“You haven’t got a single one wrong! Impressive.” Mel said. “And as for you, Kent and Stephanie?”

“When he had a piece of food stuck in his teeth through an entire news broadcast.” Stephanie said.

“No, actually. Something much worse happened to me in high school.” Kent said. “My pants snagged on my locker door and completely ripped up the side!”

“Oof! That must have been rough.” Mel said.

With the final question answered, Krusty and Lois scored a total of 6 points, Kent and Stephanie scored 3, and Bob and Francesca scored a total of 9 points.

“And Bob and Francesca are the winners!” Mel exclaimed.

“Sideshow Bob,” Krusty said, handing Bob a microphone, “do you have anything to say now that you’ve won?”

“Yes, I do.” Bob said.

He turned towards the camera.

“Hello, Bart.” he said. “I know you’re watching this program at home. So just know that someday, somehow, I will get my revenge on you. If you want a chance of survival, Bart Simpson, you’d better sleep with one eye open. You never know when I might strike.”

~❤~

Back at the Simpson household, Bart shuddered after hearing what Bob had said. However, Homer Simpson then walked in through the door, lightening the mood.

“Marge, I’m home!” he said in a singsong tone.

“Oh, Homie!” Marge said. “C’mere and give me a kiss.”

Homer and Marge then embraced, and he kissed her on the lips.

“And,” Homer said, “I got you a little something on my way home from work.”

He pulled out a bouquet of flowers.

“Awww, you sweetheart!” Marge said, beaming. “Now, I’d better get started on dinner. So just sit tight while I get cooking.”

“Can I help?” Homer asked.

“Of course!” Marge said. “Just don’t eat any of the food while I’m cooking it.”

And with that, Homer and Marge began cooking dinner.

~❤~

Just as the Simpsons were starting to cook dinner, the Albertsons were finishing it. Kumiko had made tempura udon- thick wheat noodles in dashi stock topped with deep-fried shrimp and fish cakes- for her husband and kids, and was placing the bowls on the dinner table. With that, they all began to eat, and Comic Book Guy was especially pleased with the food.

“Kumiko, these are the BEST. NOODLES. EVER.” he said. “I am in awe at their incomparable taste.”

“Awww, you flatter me.” Kumiko said. 

There was a pause as the family members all ate their food.

“So, my dear,” Kumiko piped up, “what shall we do after dinner tonight?”

“Well, I was thinking we could play some co-op video games,” he said, “and then once we’re done with that, we’ll snuggle up together and watch some anime.”

“Ooh! Let’s watch Sailor Moon!” she said. “It’s so romantic.”

“Perfect! It’s settled, then.” he said. “You know, earlier, when I couldn’t get a dinner reservation, I thought this was going to be the worst Valentine’s Day ever. But thanks to you, I’ve realized that staying in is even better than going out on a date. You don’t have to dress nice, you can do things on your own schedule, and you don’t have to squeeze yourself into a restaurant booth.”

“Mm-hmm.” Kumiko replied. “And besides, the restaurants are probably crowded today anyways. I feel sorry for those who are dining out tonight, surrounded by tons of people.”

~❤~

Meanwhile, Carl and Lenny, who had both been saving up money for weeks to treat themselves to a nice dinner, arrived at the Gilded Truffle.

“Ah. The Gilded Truffle.” Carl said. “The perfect place for two best friends to have dinner.”

“This might sound a bit out-of-nowhere,” Lenny said, turning to Carl, “but… can you hold my hand as we walk inside?”

“To keep your hand warm because it’s cold out?” Carl asked.

“Uh… yeah. Because it’s cold out.” Lenny replied, rubbing a hand behind his head.

Carl and Lenny then held hands and walked into the restaurant, and were soon directed to a table. They then began to read their menus.

“Everything here looks so good!” Lenny said. “I think I’ll get a nice, juicy ribeye steak. How about you, Carl?”

“I’m getting the smoked salmon.” Carl said. “I’ve always liked smoked salmon. It reminds me of the gravlax my Icelandic mom makes.”

A waitress then walked over to them and handed them glasses of water. To save money (and because they planned on getting drunk at Moe’s later), they decided not to order any other drinks. They instead went ahead and placed their orders, and the waitress took their menus.

Once the waitress left, Carl noticed Joe Quimby, the mayor of Springfield, sitting at a table nearby with his wife Martha as they enjoyed glasses of red wine.

“Look, Lenny!” Carl said, pointing at the Quimbys’ table. “It’s the mayor!”

Lenny glanced over at the table, seeing that the mayor was, indeed, sitting there.

“HEY, JOE!” Lenny said to Mayor Quimby, tauntingly. “YOU SUCK!”

“Silence, random citizen.” Mayor Quimby said. “I’m, er, uh, just trying to enjoy a nice dinner date with my wife.”

Martha took another sip of wine.

“This is a very nice Pinot Noir, Joe.” she said. “You made a very good choice.”

“Er, uh, thanks.” Mayor Quimby said. “I know how much you enjoy wine.”

“Well, you know what they say, Joe.” Martha said. “It’s wine o’clock somewhere!”

She giggled and poured herself another glass of wine.

Mayor Quimby then noticed that his mistress Becky Fairfax (better known as “Miss Springfield”) had arrived. You see, both of them wanted to have a dinner date with him on Valentine’s Day, so he told both of them to meet him at the Gilded Truffle at around the same time, so he could run back and forth between the two tables without either of them suspecting something was up.

“Martha, I, er, uh, have to pee.” he said. “If our food arrives before I get back, just tell them I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay.” Martha said.

Mayor Quimby then scurried out of his seat to the other side of the restaurant, and sat down with Miss Springfield.

“Joe! It’s so good to see you!” she said in her loud, obnoxious voice.

“Shh! Can you keep it down?” Mayor Quimby said in a harsh whisper. “We are in a nice restaurant, and also, my wife is here and I don’t want her to find out about this.”

“Okay.” Miss Springfield said, quieter this time. “So… how’s life?”

“Terrible.” Mayor Quimby said. “The stupid city council said I couldn’t have a solid gold statue of myself built in the middle of town. They said it would be ‘too expensive’ and that I was, er, uh, ‘egotistical’.”

“Seriously?” Miss Springfield said. “But a gold statue of you would look so cool! And it could be, like, a tourist attraction or something!”

“I KNOW!” Mayor Quimby said. “Anyways… how are the kids?”

By “the kids”, Quimby was referring to he and Miss Springfield’s three illegitimate children; his “secret other family”, as he often called them.

“Oh, they’re doing great.” Miss Springfield said. “Abigail is still enjoying her dance lessons, Connor is signing up for all kinds of sports, and Jack told me that when he grows up, he wants to be just like you. He even made himself a little ‘MAYOR’ sash out of taped-together pieces of paper!”

“Oh my god, that’s adorable!” the mayor said. “Maybe I could meet up with you and your kids this weekend, and we could, er, uh, go bowling or something.”

“Sure thing!” Miss Springfield said.

Mayor Quimby then realized that Martha was getting her food.

“Er, uh, I have to go make some phone calls to find a time for our family hang-out.” he said. “One sec.”

He scurried over towards Martha and sat down.

“Whew! That was a relief.” he said, referring to the “pee” he just took. “And my food’s here! Let’s eat.”

Lenny and Carl had watched the whole thing, sipping their water.

“So the mayor has two dates going on at the same time?” Lenny said. “This’ll be fun to watch.”

“Yep.” Carl said. “Dinner and a show.”

There was a brief silence.

“You know, Carl,” Lenny said, “under this lighting, you look really handsome.”

“I do?” Carl said.

“Yeah.” Lenny said.

There was a brief silence, before Carl asked Lenny something.

“…Are you… into me?”

Those four words caused Lenny to panic. Yeah, he was into Carl, but the way Carl said it implied that he didn’t feel the same way.

“Uh… no!” he said, quickly and nervously. “I just like you as a friend. A really, really good friend. And when I said you were handsome, I meant it in a totally heterosexual way. You can think someone looks good without being attracted to them. I think I look good sometimes, but I’ve never wanted to date myself, y’know?”

“No, I get it.” Carl said.

Their waitress then brought them their food, and they happily began to dig in.

“Mmmm!” Lenny said. “This steak is sooooooo tasty. It’s the best steak I’ve ever had!”

He cut a small piece of steak, stabbed it with his fork, and passed it to Carl, as if feeding a child.

“You wanna try some?” he asked.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Carl said, taking a bite of steak.

As Carl put his lips on the fork and slowly pulled off the piece of meat, Lenny was looking at him like a piece of meat.

“Just think of what that mouth could do…” he murmured to himself.

“What?” Carl said, his mouth half-full of steak.

“What?” Lenny said.

The two of them continued to eat happily for a few more moments.

“It’s a shame that the food here is so pricey.” Lenny said. “If it wasn’t, I’d have this steak every day!”

“I feel you, Lenny.” Carl said. “It just isn’t fair that rich guys get to have all the best food. And all the biggest houses, and all the coolest cars, and all the prettiest girlfriends…”

“You don’t need a pretty girlfriend, Carl.” Lenny said. “Looks shouldn’t be your priority when choosing a partner. Your priority should be how much you enjoy their company. The trick is to date someone who you would be friends with even if you had never dated.”

“Yeah. You’re right.” Carl said. “After all, you can’t spell ‘girlfriend’ without ‘friend’.”

“Or ‘boyfriend’.” Lenny said quietly.

Carl paid no attention to that comment, and changed the subject.

“I bet Mr. Burns gets to eat food like this for every meal.” he said. “Lucky bastard.”

“Yeah!” Lenny said. “He’s probably in his mansion right now, eating some gourmet dinner off of a solid-gold plate or whatever.”

~❤~

Meanwhile, at Burns Manor, Mr. Burns was, indeed, eating gourmet dinner off of a solid-gold plate. In another act of love, his husband Waylon (who was seated right beside him and also eating off of a solid-gold plate) had arranged a three-course meal of his husband’s favorite foods for their chef to prepare that evening, and right now they were on the second course- lobster.

But they were not the only ones enjoying the dinner. Anastasia Burns, their 15-month-old adoptive daughter, and Claudette, her au pair, were also seated at the dinner table, though Anastasia was in a highchair. They had solid gold plates as well and were also enjoying the dinner.

Claudette was a young woman from France with short, dark hair. She was an aspiring singer-songwriter, and became an au pair so she could “see the world” and get inspiration for her music. (The fact that she was very good with young kids helped too.)

Anyhow, all four of them were contentedly eating lobster, though Anastasia’s had been cut up into bite-size pieces by Claudette because a) she was too young to use a knife, and b) she didn’t have a full set of teeth yet. She had begun to get the hang of using a fork, though, and was aggressively stabbing the chunks of lobster with her fork before putting them in her mouth.

“Claudette, could you tell Anastasia she doesn’t have to puncture her food with such… force?” Mr. Burns said. “That isn’t ladylike at all.”

“But, Monsieur, she is a baby.” Claudette replied, in her thick accent. “She does not know better.”

“Well, the earlier she learns good table manners, the deeper they will be engrained in her.” Mr. Burns replied.

Claudette sighed, turned towards Anastasia, and told her not to slam her fork onto the plate.

Before long, all of them were finished with their lobster, and Claudette glanced at her watch.

“Can I be excused now?” she said. “I have to get ready for the concert.”

“Concert?” Mr. Burns asked.

“Oh, I have tickets to a jazz concert tonight.” she said. “I am intrigued by this uniquely American style of music.”

“But we haven’t even eaten the dessert course yet!” Mr. Burns said.

“You can still have your dessert.” she said. “But I will not have any.”

“Dessert?” Anastasia asked, her head jerking upwards and her chin-length blonde ringlets bouncing.

“Yes, dessert!” Mr. Burns said. “We’re having dessert after this!”

“Yay! Dessert!” Anastasia said, smiling and clapping her hands.

“Well, have fun, Claudette.” Waylon said. “I’ll let the chef know that we only need 3 desserts instead of 4. He can eat the extra.”

Claudette then left the dinner table to get dressed for the concert.

“Anyhow, that was an excellent dinner, Waylon.” Mr. Burns said to his husband. “What are we having for dessert?”

“Well, this is a meal of all your favorite foods,” Waylon said, “so we’re having your favorite dessert; chocolate soufflés.”

“Oh, yes!” Mr. Burns exclaimed. “You know exactly how to spoil me, my dearest one.”

Before long, the chef arrived with their soufflés, which were topped with whipped cream and powdered sugar. Mr. Burns dug in ravenously, Waylon ate it contentedly but calmly, and Anastasia, who had never eaten a soufflé before, stared at it for a few seconds, not sure what to do.

“Go on, Stacy.” Waylon said to Anastasia, using his nickname for her. “Grab your spoon and eat it.”

He demonstrated by showing her his spoon and then scooping up some of the soufflé with it. As her vibrant green eyes saw what her father was doing, the wheels in her developing brain began to turn, and she grabbed the spoon and began eating.

“How is it, Stacy?” Waylon asked.

“Excellent.” she said, tenting her fingers.

Having heard Anastasia say “excellent” for the very first time, in the exact way that Mr. Burns always said it, Waylon squealed with delight, and Mr. Burns keeled over, clutching his chest.

“AWWWWWWW!” Waylon exclaimed, waving his fists around. “SHE SAID ‘EXCELLENT’, SIR! SHE’S LEARNING FROM YOU!”

He then noticed Mr. Burns looked like he was in pain.

“Sir?” Waylon said, rushing towards his husband and wrapping his arms around him. “Are you okay?”

“So… damn… CUTE!” he exclaimed, suddenly jerking upright and smiling with wide eyes.

“I KNOW!” Waylon said.

Waylon and Monty both rushed towards Anastasia, hugged her, and planted kisses on her cheeks. Once their feelings of “squee!” wore off, they returned to their soufflés.

And before long, as the Burns family was eating their dessert, Claudette headed out the door to attend the jazz concert. She waved goodbye to her boss and walked towards her car, which was parked in front of the manor. With that, she drove towards the Jazz Hole.

~❤~

As Claudette walked into the Jazz Hole, a trio emerged from a pink sedan: Lisa Simpson, Nelson Muntz, and their chaperone, Homer Simpson.

“Alright. We’re here at the concert.” Homer said. “Now, let’s listen to some jazz!”

He then turned towards Nelson.

“And if you do anything inappropriate to my daughter…” he said, “you’re dead.”

“Don’t worry, Dad.” Lisa said. “I won’t let him do anything inappropriate to me.”

“And I’m not gonna do anything she doesn’t wanna do.” Nelson said. “The last thing I want is to make her upset.”

“Awww, Nelson…” Lisa said.

With that, they all went into the Jazz Hole, showed their tickets to the ticket-taker, and sat down. And once the lights dimmed, the concert began.

The smooth music played, and as Lisa’s eyes were fixated on the musicians on stage, Nelson turned towards Lisa and gazed at her with a look of infatuation in his eyes. Lisa was oblivious to the way Nelson was looking at her until she glanced over to see if he was enjoying it, and was delightedly surprised by what she saw. Putting a hand to her face, she blushed and swooned.

“Awww, Nelson…” Lisa said. “That look says more than words ever could.”

She reached towards Nelson’s hand, and their fingers intertwined. A smile spread across Nelson’s face as Lisa held his hand. Heat washed over his body, pubescent hormones practically screaming at the touch of her hands.

The music swelled, with Lisa and Nelson’s heads swaying from side to side to the rhythm of the music. It felt as if their hearts were beating in unison, at least to Lisa.

When that song ended, another one began, and this one was calm and sultry; romantic, even. A solitary saxophone played a longing tune, and that tune, as music is prone to doing, had a profound effect on Lisa’s mood. Her love for Nelson consumed her entirely, and she needed to release those pent-up feelings somehow.

So she turned towards Nelson, placed her hands on either side of his face, and looked right into his dark green eyes.

“May I kiss you?” she asked, making sure to get his consent before she did anything more intimate than holding hands.

“I’d love that, Lis…” Nelson replied.

With his consent undeniable and her passion burning, she pulled him close and locked lips with him, her face pressing into his. Nelson returned the kiss, wrapping his arms around her and holding onto her like she could float away at any moment. Their noses touched, their eyelids gently lowered, their hearts soared, and they both felt more filled with love than they had ever felt before.

But neither of them took it further than just touching their lips together, as Homer was right there, keeping close watch over his little girl and staring daggers at Nelson.

When their lips separated, they continued to watch the concert, their hands still intertwined. It was, without a doubt, the most romantic night of either of their lives.

~❤~

As the concert was going on, Skinner and Chalmers had finished with their museum date, and were driving towards Agnes’ house, eating fast food they had picked up along the way.

“That was wonderful, Seymour.” Chalmers said. “I never thought a visit to the natural history museum could be so romantic. …Then again, that’s probably because you were there.”

“Awww, Gary!” Skinner replied. “You flatter me.”

They ate and had a conversation about what they saw at the museum; their favorite exhibits, things that they learned, and so on. And eventually, they arrived at the Skinner house, where Agnes was still keeping Simon in her clutches, and rang the doorbell.

Agnes opened the door, and her expression changed to a frown when she realized that her time with Simon was up and she had to return him to his fathers, leaving her alone once more.

“Hello, Mother.” Skinner said. “I assume you’ve been taking good care of Simon?”

“Yes, of course. He is my favorite and only grandchild, after all.” Agnes said. “Let me get him for you.”

She went away from the door, and after a few seconds, came back holding Simon in her arms.

“There’s my little steamed ham!” Chalmers said, upon seeing his little boy.

“It’s so good to see you again, my son.” Skinner said, patting Simon’s little head.

“Supa-ten-den Dada! Pinc-pal Dada!” Simon exclaimed, stretching his hands out towards his dads.

Skinner took the boy from Agnes and cradled him in his arms.

“HEY!” Agnes said.

“Oh, look at you!” Skinner cooed. “Did you enjoy your time with your grandmother? I bet you did! You look very well-rested, and you aren’t fussy at all, so I assume she’s given you enough food.”

“Yes, I did.” Agnes said. “I even gave him a bath!”

Skinner then noticed that Simon’s hair was damp, and smelled of the brand of shampoo that Agnes typically used.

“Ah, so you did.” Skinner said. “Though you could have informed me of this earlier so I could provide you with baby shampoo. Babies have sensitive skin and eyes, so adult shampoo can easily cause irritation and discomfort for them.”

Agnes then grabbed the baby-care supplies her son had given her that morning, which Chalmers took from her.

“Anyways, thank you so much for looking after him, Mother.” Skinner said.

“Thank YOU for letting me spend the whole day with him.” Agnes said. “Now, let me give him a good-bye kiss.”

She leaned down and planted a kiss on Simon’s forehead, and with that, Skinner and Chalmers headed back to the car with their son in tow. Putting Simon in his car seat and the other baby-care supplies in the back of the car (aside from the teething ring, which he handed to Simon), Skinner and Chalmers got in the driver’s seat and the passenger seat respectively.

“Alright.” Chalmers said. “We’ve had a long day, so let’s head home.”

And with that, Skinner began driving towards the Chalmers household, with his husband and son in tow. Simon cooed happily in his seat, chewing contentedly on his teething ring and looking at his dads. Once they got back home, Seymour scooped up his son in his arms, and the whole family went inside to relax and get ready for bed.

As Seymour once sang with the other Be Sharps all those years ago, each trip was a trip to paradise with his baby on board.

~❤~

“Wasn’t that a great concert?” Homer said, as he drove towards Nelson’s house.

“Indeed. It was impeccable and wondrous.” Lisa said. “I loved every moment of it.”

“Yeah, I loved it too.” Nelson said, his arm around Lisa.

Homer then parked his car in front of Nelson’s house.

“Alright! We’re here.” he said. “Have a nice day, Nelson.”

“Thanks.” Nelson said, before turning towards Lisa. “See ya ‘round, babe.”

He gave Lisa a quick kiss, and headed towards his own house. Once he was inside, Lisa shut the car door, and she and Homer drove back to the Simpson house.

“Alright, you can head on in.” Homer said, once they parked there. “I’m gonna head to Moe’s.”

“Okay.” Lisa said. “Thanks for taking me to the concert, Dad.”

“No problem, sweetie.” Homer said.

Lisa went inside, and was met with a smugly smirking Bart, leaning against the wall with crossed arms.

“So…” he said. “did you two kiss?”

“Oh, yes…” Lisa said. “And it was beautiful.”

She sighed a dreamy sigh, and began to waltz up to her room, her mind still swimming with lingering songs from the concert and thoughts of her dear, beloved Nelson.

~❤~

Soon, Homer arrived at Moe’s Tavern, and Barney Gumble, the town drunk and the bar’s most frequent customer, greeted him warmly.

“Hey, Homer!” he said, slurring his words as always. “Happy Valatime’s Day! *BURP*”

“Hi, Barney!” he said. “You do anything special today?”

“I can’t really remember what I did today.” Barney said. “But it was probably pretty cool.”

Homer then saw Lenny and Carl.

“Lenny! Carl!” he said, sitting down next to them. “So how was the ‘totally platonic’ dinner?”

“Oh! Dee-licious.” Lenny said. “I’ve never had such good food in my life.”

“Ooh!” Homer said. “Tell me more about this food you ate.”

Homer then glanced towards Moe Szyslak, the bartender.

“Hey, Moe!” he said. “Get me a beer.”

“You got it.” Moe said, in a dejected tone of voice.

As Moe poured Homer a glass of Duff beer, he sighed a deep sigh. Valentine’s Days were always so lonely for him. He was so unlucky in love that it was almost a curse; even his wife Maya ended up divorcing him. And it pained him to see everyone in Springfield so happy with their lovers; even the likes of Mr. Burns, Seymour Skinner, and Comic Book Guy, who he all assumed would remain lonely forever just four years prior.

“So, I was at the Gilded Truffle with Carl, and I ordered this amazing ribeye steak.” Lenny explained to Homer. “It was marinated in this really tasty sauce and served with fries that had this really good seasoning on them.”

“Ooh! And we also saw the mayor.” Carl said. “He was on two dates at the same time and was running back and forth between them.”

“HA! Classic Quimby.” Homer said.

He took a swig of his beer, which Moe had placed in front of him.

“So anyways, my daughter and her boyfriend went to a jazz concert today, and I was the third wheel.” Homer said. “It wasn’t my ideal way of spending Valentine’s Day, but at least I got to listen to some nice tunes.”

“Nice!” Carl said. “Y’know, Lenny, we should go to a concert together sometime.”

“Yeah! That’d be awesome.” Lenny said.

Suddenly, the door opened, revealing a figure cloaked in shadow and smoking a cigarette.

“Ugh. I need a freakin’ drink.” the mysterious person said, in a familiar gravelly voice.

The figure then stepped into the bar, revealing themself to be a woman- and not just any woman, but Homer’s sister-in-law, Selma Bouvier.

“HEY! What are you doing here?” Homer said, pointing at her.

“Trying to get over the pain of not finding a man.” Selma said, as she walked up towards the bar.

Moe turned towards the new customer, and as soon as he laid eyes on her, he began to find something… strangely alluring about her.

“H… hello there, doll. Welcome to Moe’s Tavern.” he said, blushing. “C… can I get ya anything?”

“Doll”? Selma thought to herself. Oh, I’ve never had anyone call me that before…

“I’ll have a Duff Lite.” Selma said, leaning over the bar counter so Moe could get an eyeful of her breasts.

If this guy was into her, as she suspected he was based on how he acted, she was not going to let him slip through her fingers.

In a lovestruck daze, Moe poured her a glass of Duff Lite, before handing it to her.

“Thanks, handsome.” she said, with a seductive wink.

“So, uh…” Moe said. “I never got your name.”

“Selma Bouvier.” she replied. “Nice to meet you.”

“Oh yeah! I think I heard Homer complaining about you once.” Moe said. “You don’t seem so awful in person, though.”

“Well, that’s mostly because I think my younger sister could do so much better than him.” Selma replied.

“You’re Midge’s sister, huh?” Moe said. “Well, that explains why I find you so pretty. You look so much like her!”

Selma perked up at being called “pretty”, her eyes widening and her cigarette falling out of her mouth.

“You… you really mean it?” she said, blushing.

“I do!” Moe said.

Selma then leaned in towards Moe, and the two of them shared a kiss- a kiss that Homer found to be the most disgusting thing he had seen all day.

“Ewww…” Homer said. “I think I’m gonna go back home. I’ve seen enough.”

“Wait! Homer! You haven’t paid for your drink!” Moe said.

“Here’s your stupid drink money, you… Selma-kisser!” Homer said, throwing five wadded-up dollar bills at him.

With that, Homer stormed out of the bar in a huff.

“Anyways…” Selma said, “let me give you my number.”

Moe handed her a pen, and she wrote down her phone number on a napkin.

“Thanks, toots.” Moe said. “Listen, this… uh… might seem a little sudden, but… do you wanna, like… go out for breakfast tomorrow morning?”

“Breakfast sounds nice.” Selma said.

“Alright, Selma.” Moe said. “It’s a date.”

And even though both of them had been hardened by years of singledom and rejections, deep down, the two of them knew that this would be the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

~❤~

“Marge, I just saw something horrifying at Moe’s.” Homer said, as he walked into his house.

“Did Barney throw up into your drink again?” Marge asked.

“Worse.” Homer said. “I saw Selma and Moe kissing. And on the same day that I walked in on a half-naked Mr. Burns, too!”

“Awww, Selma’s finally found love.” Marge said. “I just hope this relationship doesn’t fall flat like all her other relationships.”

“Don’t you see what this means, Marge?” he said. “She’ll turn Moe against me, and then I won’t be able to drink at Moe’s Tavern anymore!”

“You worry too much, Homer.” Marge said. “She won’t turn him against you. And either way, it’s illegal for anyone to refuse service to a customer because of a petty grudge- or, at least, I think it is. If he does that, you can just sue him and he won’t do it again.”

“Anyways, Marge, let’s head to the bedroom.” Homer said. “We can take a bath together, and then after that, I have something very special in mind for the two of us.”

Picking up what her husband was putting down, Marge leaned towards him, wrapping an arm around him as she smirked seductively.

“What is it, Homie?” she asked, feigning innocence.

Homer chuckled.

“Oh, I think you already know…”