**Moe's Midwestern Mixology: A Springfield Saga**

Prompt: Simpsons fanfiction moe decides to attract more Midwest tourists to the tavern by putting Midwest drinks on the menu like old fashions

Moe Szyslak leaned against the counter of the gloomy bar, contemplating the fate of his beloved tavern. The dim lights flickered overhead, casting an uneven glow that matched the half-hearted attempts at cleanliness. But lately, even the usual array of patrons—grumbling over the same old beers and shots—had dwindled. The economy was rough, tourists were scarce, and Moe was desperate for an idea to revitalize his establishment. As he wiped down the counter with a rag that had seen better days (and cleaner ones), the door swung open with a creak. It was Chief Wiggum, followed by Barney Gumble, Lenny, and Carl, all looking to escape their wives for another evening of camaraderie. “Hey Moe, you got the same old stuff? Another round of 'Swill Special'?” Barney hollered, slumping into a barstool. “Yeah, yeah, same old, same old,” Moe grumbled as he poured the drinks. But as he served up the half-hearted slop, an idea brewed in his mind—a spark of desperation tinged with the aroma of desperation. Maybe, just maybe, it was time to keep up with the trends. Moe had always prided himself on being a luddite, but perhaps this was a wake-up call. “Hey, guys,” he said, a gleam in his eye, “what if I spruced up the menu? You know, bring in something new. How about… Midwestern drinks?” “Midwestern drinks?” Lenny tilted his head, clueless. “Yeah! You know, like Old Fashioneds, or Malört shots! We’ll attract tourists with some real Midwestern classics!” Moe exclaimed, his enthusiasm growing. “Uh, aren’t those fancy drinks?” Carl piped up. “I thought this was a dive bar, not some hipster cocktail lounge.” “Exactly!” Moe countered, imagining the tips and tourists lining up outside, clamoring to try the unique concoctions. “But that’s the point! We give them something they can’t get anywhere else in Springfield.” Despite the skepticism of his friends, Moe got to work on a small menu containing Old Fashioneds, Manhattans, and even a homemade version of the possibly ill-advised Malört. He just had to put the word out in the community. He knew the local paper wouldn’t cut it, so he devised a plan to appeal to the out-of-towners visiting nearby attractions. He created a colorful flyer, decorating it with clip-art images of Midwestern icons—cornfields, the Chicago skyline, and, curiously, a trembling Jell-O mold. Then, he slipped the flyer under the door of the Springfield Travel Agency, hoping it would attract travelers looking for new experiences in their never-ending search for excitement. “Are you sure you want to do this?” said Lisa Simpson as she entered the tavern the next day, her brow furrowed in concern. “I mean, I’ve heard about the Old Fashioned, and it’s a bit complicated for someone like you, Moe.” “Pffft! Complicated? Lisa, I’ll pour whiskey into a glass and throw in some bitters and a cherry. I can handle it!” Moe replied with a bit too much bravado. Days passed, and the tavern started to fill up, slowly but surely. Conversation buzzed around the bar; the drink orders were eclectic, and Moe found himself mixing drinks he’d only vaguely known existed. Motorists, bikers, and families traveling through yielded tips that almost overwhelmed him. “Bartender, I’ll take an Old Fashioned!” shouted a tourist in an oversized T-shirt adorned with a stylized ‘I Love Cheesekakes’ logo. “Coming right up!” Moe grinned widely, slapping together his ingredients like a master chef. He felt a rush of excitement—indeed, he was a Midwestern mixologist! One evening, amid the din of chatter and the clanking of glasses, a local blogger entered—an adventurous type named Chet who sported a skunky beard and plaid patchwork shirt. He was in town to do a piece on ‘Hidden Culinary Gems of Springfield.’ He spotted Moe and marched over. “You’re doing something cool here with these drinks, my guy! I want to document your tavern for my blog. People want these authentic experiences!” Chet said, a notepad at the ready. Blushing slightly, Moe nodded, “Sure, but just promise to take me off that FIFO list. You know, the ‘Worst Bars’ list?” As weeks passed, Moe’s Tavern gained a reputation as the go-to spot for Midwestern drinks. Tourists raved online about the quality of Moe’s Old Fashioneds, declaring them as ‘better than the ones in Chicago’. Along with the new wave of business came a newfound respect—locals and tourists alike, tipping generously after a round of drinks. The once dreary tavern pulsated with energy, a warmth that transcended the dive bar persona Moe had carefully cultivated for years. However, it wasn’t all smooth sailing. Moe found himself roped into cocktail competitions against rival bars. He was determined to prove that he was a legitimate mixologist and not just a bartender offering a novelty menu. As he stood in front of a panel of judges, shaking a cocktail shaker nervously, Moe realized he was in deeper than he thought. But somehow, after a crash course in cocktail mechanics, he pulled through. The judges clinked glasses and awarded him the title of ‘Best New Midwestern Bar’ alongside a stash of barbells-clad trophies. He could hardly believe his ears as a rush of excitement surged through him. Moe Szyslak, the humble bartender of Springfield was now famous. As the night ended and his patrons were awash in laughter and revelry, Moe couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. He had taken a leap, mixing more than just drinks—he had stirred together the disheartened motley crowd of Springfield, blending them into a single, united jigsaw puzzle. “Well, what do you know?” he mused aloud, a bubble of laughter escaping his lips. “Maybe being a mixologist isn’t so bad after all.” With a determined grin, he pledged to elevate his game and ensure that Moe’s Tavern was forever a delightful pitstop for every Midwestern traveler, and perhaps even more—the place that changed his life. After all, who knew? Life could always surprise you, even in the simplicity of a well-mixed Old Fashioned.