Heaven and Hell

Chapter 2: The Letters

It took about another hour and a half before we were leaving for the power plant for our day of work. 
Unlike most, I loved Mondays.  Once the beginning of the week rolled around, I had a full 5 days of spending time with Monty to look forward to.  I blushed a little bit upon glancing into the rear view mirror to see him dozing of in the backseat. 
"It's almost like he's trying to seduce me," I muttered under my breath, barely audible.
Soon enough, I was pulling the Burns car into its usual parking spot, right by the entrance to the plant. I climbed out of the car and ran around to the other side to help Monty out. I always loved the way he grabbed my arm as he struggled a bit to stand up.
We strolled into the power plant to find Homer Simpson, my least favorite employee running late, per usual. He rushed past us, attempting to play it cool as if he wasn't late to work every single day.
"Who is that slacker, Smithers?" Mr. Burns asked me.
"That's Homer Simpson, sir, one of the bums from Sector 7-G," I replied. "Simpson!" I called out.
He turned toward me, flinching as he awaited his punishment.
"My office, Simpson, 9:15, understand?" I snarled.
"Yes, Mr. Smithers," Homer hung his head as he glumly responded.
I escorted Mr. Burns to his office and gathered that day's paper work, then I headed to my office to deal with Homer Simpson. Surprisingly, he was already there waiting for me, snacking on a donut. That part wasn't very surprising.
"Give me that!" I growled, snatching the donut from his fat, slimy fingers.  He whined as I proceeded to throw it in the trash can. I, then, sat down at my desk to face him.
"Simpson, you have been fortunate enough to evade punishment for way too long. You have been late almost every day since you received this job. Although, as to how you somehow obtained this job is beyond me.  Simpson, are you even listening to a word I'm saying?!"
He was still staring sadly at the donut I had thrown in the trash can.
"Oh!  Uh, yeah, of course Mr. Smithers" he lied.
"Mhm. Simpson you're such a disgrace to this company, I should fire you on the spot."
Homer stared at me, his eyes wide in fear, silently pleading with me.
"But I'm not going to do that." I said. "Because Mr. Burns takes pleasure in that and he's busy at the moment."
Homer released a great puff of air.
"But, mark my words, if you're late tomorrow, you won't have a job anymore!"
Homer nodded in response and slowly exited my office, dragging his feet in shame as he did.
I spent the rest of the day filing reports and spreadsheets, hoping to finish a little early that day.  Every Monday for the past 30 years I had written a letter to Mr. Burns.  And every Monday I confessed my love in a different, more romantic way than last week's. 
Of course, I never actually end up sending these letters to Mr. Burns. It may have started with that intent, but....not anymore.  My first letter was drafted a little less than 30 years ago. I had already been infatuated with Monty for years, and was keen on ending my feelings toward him immediately.
Caught in nostalgia, I decided to dig out my very first letter.  It was under a very large stack of possibly hundreds of letters, all kept in my 4th desk drawer, under a false bottom.  Now, of course, most of my letters have been thrown out; obviously, I can't keep all of them, that would be absurd. I decided to keep my best ones at my desk a while ago.
I chuckled to myself as I read over my first ever letter to Mr. Burns. I was so naive back then, unaware that my feelings I was struggling with back then would grow into so much more. 

Dear Mr. Burns,

God, I don't even know where to start. Well, I guess I could begin with saying I'm in love with you. And I have been for the past few years. I don't exactly remember when it first started, perhaps sometime in high school?  To be honest, it's felt like forever.  In the words of Steven Morrisey, life is very long when you're lonely.
The truth is, Monty, I haven't the faintest idea what to do. You're in my mind at all hours of the day; I just can't stop thinking about you, no matter how hard I try. Tell me what to do, Monty, please. I've tried and I've tried to get over you. You have no idea how hard I've tried. But, I can't. I just can't. You're the only one I can truly love, I'm sure of it.
I love you, Monty. More than you know. And you don't have to love me back, just please don't fire me. That's all that I ask. Please.

Yours truly, forever and always,
Waylon