Muscle Marge

Gwahar asked for this little piece a while ago, and while I can't say I really did the subject justice, I am glad to finally get it out!

It works best if you hear it in the voice of Rod Serling....

Submitted for your approval - The case of one Mrs. Marge Simpson: embattled housewife and robbery victim who has regained the strength to face the world by building up the strength to curl.

If this were the Twilight Zone (or even the actual Simpsons episode) we would be presented with the monkey's paw of steroids, and how Marge uses them to construct her physique at the cost of her feminine mystique.  But this is neither - I'm just cartoon Rod Serling.

I happen to LIKE muscular Marge.

And Cartoon Rod Serling does whatever the hell he wants.

The scene you see frozen in front of you is the grimy dark brown alcohol burn that is Moe's Tavern.  It's the late evening, not long after Marge's second place win in the local bodybuilding contest - but this a little different world than you remember. The first difference is obvious: Marge is a tad bigger than she was on "The Strong Arms of the Ma''.

Okay, more than a tad.

Alright alright, most of the animators on episodes of the hulk wouldn't have tried muscles at this size.  I mean just LOOK at her! Lavish your eyes on her for a while - I mean, how can you not?

From the top down her traps rise above her head, framing her curly tower of blue hair with yellow slabs that threaten the ceiling.  Big round Simpson's eyes blink half covered by massively bigger and rounder pectorals that seem to accidentally cover her head with random twitches of rippling muscle. You can see her hand frozen in one of the constant adjustments she needs to make to keep her swollen chest from completely bursting free from the top of that lime green dress.  If you aren't transfixed by the unquenchable, unconcealable nipples throbbing on top of her monstrous rippling masses of pectoral muscle, you absolutely will not be able to take your eyes off of the erupting bulk of bicep crossing the bar in a vein engorged diagonal from her casual arm bend. Of course having used the word "absolutely" we go straight to "abs": lots of them.  She's sporting a twelve pack of bowling balls traveling down to the pinch of her legs. The bottom of her dress is swallowed by striated thighs that seem designed to crush time and space into a moist black hole between them.  Her insane calves flare like a pair of medicine ball sized meatballs before tapering down to the delicate high heeled shoes that just seem like they should be utterly unable to hold up the colossal bulging beast that is Marge. Feminine yellow shoulders spread from corner to corner of the actual bar- she is sitting in the middle of what would be ten bar seats, her shoulders covering them all with dense shadow.

Homer has to almost stand across the room to embrace a swell of muscle bigger than he is, and he's grinning ear to ear.

That of course takes us to the NEXT difference in this world.

While on the surface much is the same, you see here female bodybuilders aren't REALLY considered less feminine by men, it's just not much talked about publicly.  However, the expressions in Moe's Tavern make it obvious.  EVERYONE is transfixed and aroused.  Men and women are all looking at Marge with a wide eyed grin - in some cases their necks are twisted almost 180 just to keep her mouth-watering mass in view.  In fact at least one poor schmuck is going to walk into a pillar when I unfreeze things.

I could fix it, but I adore slapstick.

Now with those little differences in place, let's see how this evening turns out.

Marge giggles as Homer strokes her arm.  He grins, eyes looking into the distance "Second place in a bodybuilding contest after two weeks of working out - my beautiful blue gorilla girl is better than donuts!  And I love donuts".

"Awwww, Homie! But those girls were amazing - there was one with biceps bigger than a bus!"

We hear a clunk as said poor schmuck hits a pillar and drops muttering "so hot" before hitting the ground with a thump.

Moe is cleaning a bottle while grunting "Yeah, but most a dose girls work out for a decade before gettin' big enought ta compete, and there wuz only a few bigger'n you in one or two areas".  He hangs up a glass and straightens it "you'll be breakin' records in no time. Y'know - you're an awful lot a girl for just one guy - if you ever need a little extra attention to all those muscles....just sayin".

"Awww, Moe!  You guys give a girl the goosebumps - but seriously, I'm a one hubby kinda gal".

Homer doesn't even seem to notice Moe, he's just nuzzling  Marge's arm with a low "Mmmmmmmm".

A curvy blonde lady stops in mid stride, cocks her hip as sparkles glitter on her scarlet sequin dress.  The sultry siren bites her lip and brushes her fingers along her own beach ball sized breasts while regarding Marge.  Her chest heaves as sequins pop off her creamy, swelling mounds. "Oooh, did you ever consider - well.... not a guy?"

"Oh stop it, you're all so flattering! I'm blushing - I appreciate it, I really do! But I have a family!"

From across the bar someone yells: "How about with my entire family"?

"Seriously, this is getting out of hand".....

A dog stands up on its hind legs and barks something that sounds like "Please?".

"Enough already"!

While not terribly angry herself - Marge's angry snarls of musculature engorge with an insane groan as the ceiling erupts from the force of a double bicep pose that towers easily three times taller than she is.  Her top explodes as her pecs crush the ground, muscles even swelling on her nipples as they curl into what almost looks like a bicep pose of their own. Thick veins swell as her biceps pop another peak, then another as the shadow of her mass seems to cover half of Springfield.

Buried under her own flesh mountains of muscle, Marge can barely be heard saying "Erm, sorry - was that too much?"

There's a dead silence in the bar, for a moment distant crickets chirp but then go silent themselves as if they just grasped what happened.

Moe stares for a second.  He then takes a box of kleenex and a bottle of oil saying "this'll take less than a minute" before stepping into the bathroom.

With the blink of an eye the entire bar forms a line behind him - including the dog and at least a few crickets.

"Homie, I think it's time we go home".

Homer throws up his arms and shouts a crazed "Woohoo!'' as her immense naked yellow mass scoops him up and carries him out of the ruins of the bar.

I personally should leave these two love birds to do their thing - not that I don't REALLY want to watch - I mean, I'm Rod Serling: voyeurism and cigarettes are kind of my thing....

But seriously, do YOU want to piss her off?