The early morning sun shone brightly onto Springfield, and birds were chirping happily like there was no tomorrow. To an outsider this unassuming town, which seemed to be made up by a collection of misfits, was a minor location in the USA that people rarely seemed interested in seeing, with it only being a mid-sized town that began in 1796. Something that one of its resistance, a mysterious and at times malevolent man named Charles Montgomery Burns, had seen with his own two eyes.
That was something an outsider would always miss, with few ever noticing anything strange when they rarely visited. If they did notice anything, one of three things would happen: they would enter a state of permanent denial and force it out of their memory upon leaving; be so scared they won't say anything and eventually go insane from the knowledge; or be dragged into the insanity of the town one way or another. But those things rarely happened, with only one out of a hundred people ever noticing anything, while the rest never realized that the people who, whether by chance or fate, live in this town were...different.
To truly understand how different this town was to every other town or city in the whole world, the best method would be to see it through the eyes of a single family. A family that was just as strange as, if not more than, every other Springfield resident. This family was called the Simpson's and a typical day for this family always started the same way: with Homer Simpson waking up to begin his job.
The slightly overweight man scratched his belly with a small groan as he opened his eyes, before pulling himself up to a sitting position. Letting out a yawn and stretching his arms, making sure not to disturb his wife who was sleeping quietly beside him. Getting out of bed, he reached for his cloak, which he had left hanging on the side of the wardrobe last night. It was as black as the night sky and, despite appearing to be made out of wool, that lie disappeared the second you felt the material. Homer himself, despite having worn it for years, didn't know what the material was of.
Slipping it on, he felt it happen. His right arm began to twitch and feel warm, which used to freak him out until he accepted it, before his yellow skin physically began to wither away. In a matter of second, all that was left of his right arm was he pale bones, with the arm still moving perfectly despite lacking any muscles to do so.
Smiling, with a flick of both his wrists two objects appeared out if thin air into his hands. On his left was a scythe, which was long with an intimidating blade, while on his right as a piece of old fashioned parchment. That parchment, for better or for worse, gave Homer the name of the individual whose soul he must reap. For Homer was the Grim Reaper.
Not that it meant much. It was a job, like a lot of things and there were other people doing it. Contrary to belief, one being can't reap the souls of everyone everywhere, even if they can slightly alter the flow of time. Instead, a single grim reaper is given jurisdiction over a specific area of the world, and very rarely are more than one death in the same place. Also, while there was a reasonable amount of crime and death in his area, there wasn't enough to demand his full attention. Thus, it gave him time to create a life outside of his main job.
Anyway, all it took was for Homer to wave his right hand to make the parchment vanish after reading the name and to then close his eyes. The second that happened, he vanished from his bedroom without a trace, towards another poor victim of death. At least, that is what he will tell his wife when she asks later why he is never there when she wakes up. In truth, he was going to head to Moe's and grab a beer. Homer was surprised that no one had caught on to the fact that he was the worst grim reaper ever.
Things were quiet after that for a moment, giving Marge Simpson a few minutes of peace before her daughter Maggie began crying, the noise being sent to her room through the baby monitor, waking her up. Letting out a sigh as she looked over to see her husband had vanished, she got out of bed and put on her dressing gown before leaving her room.
Once she had reached the door, she took a deep breath as she heard the familiar sucking sound. Quickly, she opened the door and looked around the room to find her youngest daughter Maggie hanging upside down on the ceiling using her tentacles, holding her pacifier in one hand while giving Marge a smile that showed her single fang.
"Hello mother. I demand you provide me with breakfast." Maggie said with her deep, male like voice, making Marge sigh in annoyance.
"You know I hate it when you speak like that Maggie. It just makes me think of...him." Marge said, saying the last word with hints of bitterness, disgust and anger.
"But I want breakfast!" Maggie shouted, smacking her free hand against the ceiling in anger.
"And you will get breakfast when you get off my ceiling and stop talking in that voice." Marge said calmly, giving Maggie a stern look. Maggie glared back, but eventually put her pacifier in her mouth and leaped off the ceiling, knowing that her mother's reflexes were always enough to catch her. And thanks to years of training to become the world's best assassin, Marge was able to catch her human-rigellian hybrid child with ease.
"Now, was that so hard?" Marge asked, leaving the room and then shouting down the hallway. "Bart! Lisa! It's time for school!"
Bart Simpson, the son of Homer and Marge, groaned as he slowly got up. Soon, being careful to avoid tearing his clothes with the two small horns on his head or his satyr like feet, got dressed. Meanwhile, in another room, his sister Lisa was putting on her pearl necklace while everything she needed for school was being placed into her bag using her magic wand, all while checking the society of small humanoids growing in the petri dish on her desk.
Like the rest of their family, Bart and Lisa were not ordinary. Both of their lives changed forever a year ago, when Bart fell down a portal into Hell and Lisa manifested magical abilities that enabled her to not only become the school's perfect pupil in regular studies, but in magical studies as well. Both their lives have gotten better because of it.
Soon, Bart was stampeding down the stairs while Lisa glided using a spell, with Marge putting down plates with pancakes on the kitchen table as they entered the kitchen. Maggie was chewing furiously at her pacifier, her green tentacles barely fitting into her baby high chair.
"Lisa, no flying in the house. Bart, you know how I feel about you having your hooves in the house." Marge said without looking at them, busy making her own pancakes. Reluctantly, Lisa lowered herself down to the floor while Bart released a burst of fire around his body to make his horns and satyr feet vanish.
And that is the Simpson family. One parent kills people for a living while another makes their deaths possible. The youngest child is only half human, the middle child is an extremely powerful witch and the eldest child goes to school in hell. But they were not the most unusual inhabitants of Springfield.
"Hey Bart." Milhouse said to his best friend as he sat down next to him.
"Good to see you again Milhouse. How are things?" Bart asked.
"All right, but I'm still finding it hard to not turn into a poodle." Milhouse replied, the shame he was feeling evident by his voice and face.
"You've got to be the only guy in the world with werewolf ancestry who turns into a poodle." Bart said with a small grin, but Bart instantly apologized when he saw the hurt look on the were-poodle's face. "I'm sorry man."
"No it's ok." Milhouse said before going quiet, leading to Bart awkwardly looking out the window of the school bus.
He saw all the people the bus passes, ranging from: Disco Shrew, the shrew-human hybrid with a undying passion for the music; the Golem and his wife, who were good friends with Bart's family, Lisa specifically; Jonathan Frink Sr, the man made from parts belonging to many different bodies; and Simon Stoolowitz, the living stool who has survived from 1890 to the present day. Looking around, he noticed the blue gremlin making scratch marks at the side of the bus as usual, and gave it a friendly wave that was returned with a smile, before the creature continued with it's favourite hobby.
It didn't occur to Bart that any of the things he just saw were weird. After all, he's spent his whole life in this town and before moving to Hell, he went to the same school as Lisa, and that had cannibals for teachers who at times ate some of the more troublesome students. Cannibalism was often the reason for why the most human of this town's residents live here. What many would consider strange and weird, he would consider normal.
Suddenly, the school bus grew to a halt and students ran out of it. Giving Milhouse a nod goodbye and waving at Otto, the zombie bus driver, he smiled as he magically regained his demonic appearance and a red swirling portal appeared in front of him, which he instantly leaped into. In seconds, he emerged out of the fire like portal to find himself in front of his school, while the screams of tortured soul's could be heard around him.
"Man." Bart said happily. "I love this school."
"Where is that green skinned, no good, lazy freak!?" Marge muttered angrily, storming around her living room angrily.
Maggie sat on the floor looking up at her, sucking on her pacifier happily. Maggie knew that Marge didn't want the baby to answer, so she didn't despite her ability to do so. The young hybrid couldn't wait until she was older and Marge couldn't do anything about her talking.
"He should have been here a hour ago!" Marge continued to rant to no one. "I have a contract that expires soon!"
Suddenly, someone knocked at the door. Grumbling as she did, she opened it to allow Kang to enter her house. Maggie smiled at her biological father, who gave a small smile back.
"You're late." Marge told Kang simply, having her arms crossed.
"I'm sorry. There was a huge traffic accident near Mars and I got a speeding ticket." Kang replied, but Marge was obviously not willing to listen to his excuses.
"I'm going to be late because of you! When will you accept that you have to take responsibility as a father?" Marge asked him angrily, with the alien only staring at her in response with little emotion, which only angered the assassin further. "Do you have anything to say for yourself!?"
"I'm sorry." Kang answered again with a shrug.
"Oh God, why did I ever let Homer talk me into moving to this crazy town." Marge muttered as she rubbed her forehead. After all, she was perhaps the most "normal" inhabitant of Springfield, with Moe and he regulars coming second. Eventually, she gestured towards the door. "I want Maggie back by five, understand? And that's five o'clock here, not five o'clock by galactic standards."
Kang nodded, though Marge doubted he was listening. Sighing with stress as she watched him pick up their daughter with his tentacles, the result of when he abducted her, and took her out of the house and closed the door. Knowing how little time she had to make this hit, Marge dashed upstairs to get her tools.
Moments later, she was leaving her house dressed in simple clothing and a large briefcase in hand. She had sent out a signal to her contact for a helicopter ride, with the rendezvous being in the countryside, which she will get to using her car.
"Hey-diddly-ho, neighbour-eeno!" Ned Flanders, her neighbour, said to Marge as he watered the flowers near the fence that separated their property.
"Oh, hi Ned. How are things going with Maude?" Marge asked him politely, walking over to the fence. Despite how much she wanted to get to work, she wasn't going to annoy the Prince of Darkness. Despite how long they had known each other, and the fact her son was the best student Hell has had in a millennium according to the principal, Marge was still frightened of making Ned angry.
"Oh, thing's have never been better. I just wanted to say, thanks for the advice. I didn't think I could make a long distance relationship with Maude from here to Hell possible, but you made be believe I can." Ned told her.
"It's no trouble. But if you don't mind me asking, why can't you just resurrect her?" Marge asked him.
"Oh, well, she didn't want to. Plus, because of technicalities, it's not that easy to enter and leave Hell if you're me, so there wouldn't be a guarantee I would be back to look after Rod and Tod."
"How are Rod and Tod by the way?"
"Those two rascals are great! Can't wait to see which one will kill the other and take their rightful place as the leader of Hell when it's the apocalypse. I've been waiting centuries for that." Ned answered, smiling happily. Marge awkwardly smiled back, wondering how she ended up politely discussing the apocalypse with the Devil and how one of his two children is the prophesied antichrist fated to make it happen.
"Anyway, I have to get going Ned. It was great catching up with you." Marge told him, starting to walk away politely from the father of lies.
"Do you want me to teleport you there?" Ned asked her, causing an involuntary shudder through her body. She still had nightmares about what happened the last time Ned used his teleportation ability. It looks weeks to swap back the heads of Bart and that fly, which gave the fly plenty of time to cause chaos in her house.
"No thank you Ned. Helicopter would be better for this assignment." Marge replied.
"Alright then. Have a good day at work."
"Okay students, today we are going to do some basic turning a frog into a prince." Elizabeth Hoover told her students as she picked her greasy hands, having just got here from lunch. It was easy to guess what she had to eat, along with every other teacher in Springfield Elementary.
Lisa sat patiently at her desk in the front row, excited for the task even if she was way ahead of it. It was somewhat fun to do such basic spells every now and then. Unlike everyone else in her class, with the exception of her intellectual rival Martin Prince, she didn't get her spell book out. She had all the spells she had done perfectly memorized.
"Now, you will all be given one frog only. And before casting the spell, tell me how you will do it. That includes what you all be saying, how you will say it and how you will wave your wand." Hoover told the cast as she magically handed out boxes with frogs to the students. "We don't want a repeat of self replicating frogs do we?"
Lisa looked down at the frog in the box, green and slimy. Already, she could see what sort of prince she will turn the amphibian into. That was generally how spells like this worked. Half of it came down to skill, while the other half depended on the imagination of the witch or wizard.
Suddenly, there was the sound of someone choking painfully. At the corner of her eye, Lisa saw that it came from one of his classmates, who was clutching his throat while asleep. She wasn't sure what the boy's name was, but she had seen him around.
"Oh, really. Now." Hoover muttered, pulling out a wand. Hoover could be considered unique since not only was she a cannibal, she was also a great witch. She waved her wand in the boy's direction and said some magical words. Soon after the boy stopped chocking and woke up, while a balding and bearded man manifested behind him.
"Really Willie, couldn't you kill these children in their sleep outside of school?" Hoover asked the groundskeeper turned supernatural serial killer. "The paperwork is just too much trouble."
"Sorry Elizabeth. My fault." Willie said with his thick Scottish accent before vanishing.
"And James," Hoover said to the red faced boy, "study harder. By now you should know how to stop something like that."
Homer grinned as he entered Moe's tavern, his second home. Though he considered it his home more than his actual home. Moe Szyslak, owner of the bar and head of a skilled group of secret agents nodded towards him politely while cleaning a glass cup.
"Hey Homer. How's work been?" Moe asked him.
"A few deaths, but nothing special." Homer replied. "What about you?"
"Me and my agents took down a major criminal organization, though the leader Jackson Richards escape." Moe answered.
"Jackson Richards? He doesn't happen to be a rather talk guy with red hair and a big beard does he? Might be wearing a white suit?" Homer asked.
"He died from a gunshot wound about an hour ago. So, how about a-" The grim reaper answered. Suddenly, his list flew out of his pocket and flew in front of him with a new name on it. Homer glared at it, before grabbing it and throwing it away. However, it simply flew back in front of him and, unsurprisingly to Homer and Moe, delivered a quick right hook into Homer's face.
"Okay, fine. Jeez, why can't I catch a break?" Homer grumbled, before grabbing the list and making his scythe appear. However, instead of disappearing, he slammed the list to the floor and stabbed his scythe threw it, making it stuck there.
"Quick, give me a beer before it escapes!" Homer begged Moe, handing him some money.
After about six drinks, at which point the list forcefully made him do his job, Homer eventually appeared where he needed to be, having managed to get five beers before he was forced to do his job. He looked around, and became terrified when he realized where he was.
"You're late Simpson." Mr Burns told Homer as he suddenly appeared from nowhere.
"Sorry sir." Homer said quickly, trying and failing to hide how terrified he was.
"The guy who used to do the job was much better, don't you agree Slithers?" Burns asked his snake, which was wrapped around his arm and glaring at Homer.
"Yesss sssir." the magical reptile replied.
"Anyway, the man you looking for is other there, in a state of dying from his wounds. Just so you know, I will be complaining to your boss on your poor service." the blood sucking creature told Homer, flashing his fangs menacingly as he did, before walking away to leave Homer to deal with the victim dying from blood loss.
"Why do celebrities have such thick blood?" Marge wondered as she tried desperately to clean her favorite sword at the kitchen sink, regretting having to use it as she had planned to use a sniper rifle. "Must be something they eat."
"Honey, I'm home!" a very non Homer like voice said from behind her. Reacting instantly, Marge spun around and brought her sword in front of her, so that the point of the blade was only a few centimeters away from the one who spoke. Who turned out to be Kang, holding their daughter.
"Whoa, hold it. I'm pretty sure that I'm on time." Kang protested in fear.
"How did you get in?" Marge asked as she put her sword in the sink and reached for Maggie, who happily used her tentacles to climb from Kang to Marge.
"Teleportation. Anyway, goodbye hybrid child number 102898." Kang said quickly, before vanishing in a blue light.
"Jerk." Marge muttered angrily, before looking at her still blood covered sword and back at Maggie, then speaking. "If you come up with an idea to get rid of all that blood, you can speak for the rest of the afternoon, though only if you don't speak to much like Kang."
"The black hole!" Maggie said quickly after taking her pacifier out of her mouth.
"Good idea. Now remember, not too much like your father." Marge told Magie as she sat her down on the floor. "Now go watch TV."
While Maggie used her tentacles to walk to the TV, Marge grabbed her sword and walked to the door leading to the basement. Roughly seven months ago, Lisa convinced the zombie mayor of Springfield to use money to create a particle accelerator instead of a baseball stadium. The result was a black hole that Lisa used her magical abilities on to keep in the basement so everyone will be safe, as she couldn't find a way to make it disappear. So long as no one allowed the black hole to devour too much in a certain amount of time, the family could throw their junk into it. Such as blood that Marge found difficult to remove from her sword. It only took the black hole twenty seconds to remove the blood so Marge could go back upstairs.
With school finished, Bart was currently hanging out with Milhouse outside the Kwik-E-Mart, in his human form to his sadness. He was more fond of his demonic form and would prefer to be in it all the time. However, the laws of Springfield forbid it, in order to protect the secret of the town. While not every zombie, vampire, hellspawn, serial killer and whatever else chooses to live in Springfield, with such things scattered across the world, Springfield was full of them and it would be dangerous if the truth was exposed for good. While the inhabitants of Springfield have been lucky before, many fear all it would take is one brave or stupid person to find evidence and show the whole world.
"So are you going to tell me what's been bothering you?" Bart asked.
"What? Nothing's been bothering me." Milhouse protested.
"I can do things the hard way you know." Bart warned. One other unique aspect of Bart is something that wasn't fully realized until he began studying in hell. A gift called the shinning, which enabled Bart to read minds. While those with strong minds, like Marge and Lisa, are immune until Bart himself gets stronger, people like Milhouse are easy to read.
"Fine. I'm just worried that I'll never become an actual werewolf." Milhouse admitted.
"I wouldn't worry. After all, you-" Bart began, before he was cut off by a man dashing out of the Kwik-E-Mart, a gun in one hand and a bag with some money falling out in the other. "Oh, hey Snake."
"Hey dude!" Snake said with a wave before running off.
"Who was that?" Milhouse asked.
"Snake. You know, the criminal that died."
"But that guy looked nothing like him!"
"His hair remember?" Bart said. "He can take over bodies with it."
"Oh yeah. But didn't he try to kill you?" Milhouse asked.
"Yeah, but we put that behind us."
"Oh. Okay." Milhouse replied, before looking down the street. "Hey look, there's Lisa. Hey, Lisa!"
Bart reluctantly followed his best friend to greet his sister, despite having been hoping to avoid Lisa. She always ended up annoying him. As the two got closer, Lisa stopped talking to nothing and looked at them.
"Oh, hi Milhouse. Bart." Lisa said to them.
"Were you just talking to Rachel again?" Bart asked, talking about Lisa's psychopathic imaginary friend.
"Yeah, but don't worry. Using magic I made her a little nicer and less crazy." Lisa told him.
"Oh yeah?" Bart asked as he pointed behind Lisa. "Then why is she trying to push people into traffic?"
Lisa looked behind to see random people being pushed by what seemed to others to be an invisible force. Thankfully, most of them appeared of be zombies and the ones who weren't were lucky enough to avoid the cars.
"Well, her rehabilitation is a work in progress." Lisa admitted.
"So, how was everyone's day?" Marge asked her family as she sat down to have dinner with them.
"Pretty much the same." all four members of the family replied.
"Same here." Marge replied.
And that is what a day is like for the Simpson family in the town known as Springfield. That is what some of the people in Springfield are like. And it is only the tip of the iceberg. Only a fraction of the most insane town in the world.