It started one Christmassy night, not so long ago. A fat man and bald man all crammed into one Tried starting his car, to head for a bar Owned by the cantankerous, superfilious Moe.
The engine it sputtered, it clicked and it clacked. The fat, bald man--who's name is Homer Fell back in his seat, cold and incomplete. And Homer decreed: "I'm outside, I don't wanna go back!"
But inside, the beer hold was empty pray tell. Homer didn't give up, though, he raided the cubbard He raided the fridge, even ask the gal Moe called mistakingly "Midge" Alas he found nothing, but a sobering hell.
Homer cried out: "Oh why have you for saken me oh Duffman!?" "What have I done? I'm sorta nice and kind to everyone, but not to Flanders, or not to Bart, why I won't say and I won't even start!" Homer knelt down and wept like a baby and not even a man
Then Midge got up, and rolled her big eyes. She knelt beside Homer, that big blubberpot and said: "Homie, we knew the car woud not start, so we got you this." It was small box, just the right size, for Homer it was the ultimate prize.
He ripped off the bow and wrappings, he started to shake. A fresh 12 pack of Duff Gold and it was a fridge mate. Homer cried again, but this time as a man Cracking open not one, but two glorious cans.
Marge and Homie, with three cans went off to bed. And so that cold, wintery night Homer got drunk, again. He plonked out in bed, and Midge's chagrin, He didn't rock the casbah, he didn't even begin.