Grew Up… With Mr. Burns, the richest man in Springfield. His father, Waylon Smithers Sr., was Mr. Burns personal assistant until his untimely death while saving Springfield from a nuclear catastrophe, caused by Mr. Burns’ very own nuclear power plant. Smithers was somewhat taken in by Mr. Burns, though he doesn’t seem to think of Smithers as a son.
Living… in the closet according to most people who know him. He has many gay friends in Springfield and lives in the gay district, but Smithers continues to drop nothing more than hints about his sexual preference.
Profession… Mr. Burns’ assistant. He basically does everything Mr. Burns needs, from bathing and clothing him to reading him bedtime stories. His job, in his words, “is actually about 2,800 smaller jobs.” But he seems to be happy carrying out Mr. Burns’ personal bidding. And although his dreams of being appointed vice president are squashed time and again, there’s nothing in the world he’d rather be doing.
Interests… Malibu Stacy dolls. He has the world’s largest collection of Malibu Stacy dolls and is even the president of the Malibu Stacy fan club.
Relationship Status… unrequited love. Smithers has been in love with Mr. Burns for as long as he can remember. But even when Smithers confesses his feelings, Mr. Burns still doesn’t seem to catch on to the fact that Smithers is “in love” with him.
Challenge… keeping Mr. Burns from destroying Springfield. Smithers is not a bad man, and he’s often caught between his love and devotion for Mr. Burns and the fate of Springfield. His challenge is to slowly bring Mr. Burns around to a life of happiness, thereby quelling all of Mr. Burns’ plans for total domination and doom.
Personality… clever and kind. Despite working for (and loving) the most evil man in Springfield, he often shows a strong moral backbone. For instance, when Mr. Burns tries to block Springfield from the sun, Smithers stands against him, resulting in his (short-lived) termination. He was subsequently accused of shooting Mr. Burns, but was quickly acquitted when it became clear that the gentle Mr. Smithers couldn’t hurt a fly.
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