You know what? I love Gilligan's Island. I love The Simpsons. And I have permission to use SideshowJazz1's Stephanie Simpson. I was planning on writing a different Simpsons story with Stephanie, but my inspiration was lost due to this. I hope it's alright, but I couldn't finish the other story, even when I attempted to force myself. But I really wanted Stephanie in this, she was a big part in the inspiration.

Also, several references to my other fic, Life, is in this. So, I present this:

The sun blazed down on Marge as she got out the paint cans.

Oh, Homer. Why must you always get us into these situations?

Stephanie was beside her, helping. Not exactly by will. All of her friends were out of town, including Tasha.

Maggie was there too, carrying several brushes. Homer had taken the kids to Krustyland, attempting to keep them away. Marge had Stephanie and Maggie to help.

The heat index was pushing at least hundred seven, so everyone was dressed. Marge was wearing, since Bart and Steph were babies, a (rather skimpy) rust red vest top, sort of like Mary Ann from Gilligan's Island. Well, it was hot! Stephanie was wearing a black undershirt, with shorts that her fingertips could go a half-inch past. Even Maggie was wearing the same as Steph, only with white.

They made their way over to the dock in silence. Marge checked the contract. This was it.

She sighed. "Here it is." They gazed upon the boat Homer and Lisa had won from Krusty through the nuclear contest. It was a nice size, but looked well-worn. There was rust and peeling paint most everywhere, and the name was peeled off.

"This crappy load of steel? Didn't dad look at it before calling in?" Stephanie made a face.

"All that he heard was 'free boat.' That's why we have the paint." She set the buckets down. So did Stephanie and Maggie.

"Why do we have to do it while they go off to Krustyland? That's not fair, it's their problem."

"I thought that Krusty would have someone here to help us. Besides, if Homer had been anywhere near this, then things would have just turned out even worse for us. It's better to attack these problems before your father goes any deeper."

Stephanie grumbled, reluctantly picking up a brush. Maggie followed her family on deck, sweating.


"Krusty, I am honored that you decided to take me on your cruise with you." Sideshow Mel was a bit nervous, despite the vacation.

The last time Krusty took him anywhere was to the wrestling match. And what he found out that night was repulsive.

Mel was married to Krusty's sister, that he knew. But for Barbara to cheat on him through her brother? God, it was sickening. And it had went on for eleven years. Ever since then, Mel hadn't done anything outside of the show with Krusty.

Up until now. Who would say no to a free cruise to and from the Caribbean?

"Yeah, yeah."

There was several minutes of silence before they stopped at a dock. They hopped out. Krusty popped the trunk. Mel got out his suitcase, looking around. "Um, Krusty? I don't see our-"

"Here's all that you need," He handed him a slip of paper, then got back into the car. "Just look for the Simpsons, and you'll get it." And he drove off, leaving behind a trail of sand.

Mel saw red. He knew why Bob wanted to kill that damned clown now. God, get a man exited about a free cruise, and then tell him you're leaving him I the dump. The slip of paper was still in his hand. "Please may it be a nice, fat check. Please, may it bring good . . ."

Mel-

Yeah, I know how angry you may be right now. I'll probably make it up to you later. But I couldn't find anyone who would do this for me for free or willingly, so I decided to use you. Just help fix up a boat I gave to them, and we'll all be happy.

Mel scrunched up the paper, throwing it onto another boat.

Mrs. Pennycandy knew about this? The clown can't write, so she knew!

He dragged his suitcase down the pier, checking each boat. Finally, he saw Marge.

She met his eye. "Mel?"

He grumbled, still outraged and cheated from a tropical cruise. The suitcase aside, Mel picked up a brush.

"Hey, you alright?" Stephanie came out from below deck with three cans of soda.

"No." He started on the side.

"Krusty sent you to help? Ooh, you didn't want to, did you?" She got on her knees, offering him a can.

Mel grumbled, accepting the cool drink. "He gets to go on a cruise to the Caribbean and back here, the trip lasting around a month, while I get to stay and help paint your stinking boat."

"Mmmm, well, why don't we take a break for a little while, get accustomed to the heat, and then we'll get to work? It isn't as good as a cruise, but there's no point in grumbling all day about it."

Mel smiled, and got up, following the rest inside.


"Lo Zio Cecil, when can we attack?" Gino fanned himself with his hands, knife in lap.

"As soon as we can get them alone."

"When will that-a be?"

"Soon," He snapped back. It has to be very soon now. Even in the cool embrace of the shade, we find ourselves sweating.

He had on, for once in his life, a neon-orange T-shirt. *The scars showed on either arm, on the right a giant B was engraved, never to go away*. Gino hadn't stopped staring at it, still couldn't. He hadn't asked any questions, polite child, but they would soon come. He was wearing his usual outfit, overalls and such.

But both were sweating, and soon they would have no choice but to-

"Yes!" He grinned. They were going inside the boat! Cecil helped Gino up and walked out from behind the bush.

They walked casually on, as if they owned it. Cecil checked behind him, making sure no-one was looking, and then cut the ropes connecting the ship to the dock, sending them adrift.


We were seated at the small table in the puny kitchen. All of our excess stuff was in the "den," ready to be unpacked. Tomorrow.

Everyone was laughing now, including me. Mel is pretty funny when there isn't some cheesy script for five-year-olds to follow. He was in the middle of doing a "Homer impression," and what dad impression wasn't funny?

He was crossing his eyes, sticking his tongue out and repeating what dad had said that one St. Patrick's Day when he was drunk in front of a camera. Not Bart, this was before that happened. Maggie had taken out her pacifier she was laughing so hard, and mom had her head in her hands. I was cupping my hands to my mouth, tears brimming.

"Oh yeah? Well, I *hic* don't have insurance! It's easy. *BURP* all that you have to do is call in a crane guy. I don't weigh that much! And why not *hic*? I only weigh *hic* three . . . Hundred," Even he let go after that one. We all sat there, laughing, until someone cleared their throat.

I looked up, wiping my eyes. Everyone was still laughing. I stopped, looking directly behind mom. I drew in a breath, "Mom!"

She looked up at me, attempting to stop. Cecil Terwilliger, Sideshow Bob's brother, put his hand on her shoulder. "Hiya, Lucy."

Lucy?

She froze. Everyone stopped laughing as Gino stepped out as well from the shadows. He came up behind Maggie. I remembered meeting him in Italy, that brief two minutes we had alone. Poor kid was lonely as I recalled, the others just liked him for his father. I wondered if he would actually kill, or if he was just acting brave for the family.

"Hiya Charlie Brown." She sounded so casual, like they knew each other.

But I don't remember them meeting. Did they? They must have, he's after her it seems.

"And who are you?" Mel stood. We all followed his lead.

"Whatever you plan on doing is going to fail. Again. And we'll live our lives while yours are rotting in jail."

"Marge, you've raised a heathen," Cecil tsked, "Of course, I already knew when I saw both your husband and son on St. Patrick's Day. God, when did-"

"Why don't you compare my record to yours? Or should I simply bring up Maris, and you'll just end up crying like a little baby?"

He opened his mouth and closed it again, frowning. He shifted, "Now that's pretty low, even for you."

"Who's Maris? And, once again, who are you?"

"Cecil Terwilliger. This is Gino . . . She was my wife." He seemed deep in thought. And then, of course, held up a gun.

"A gun? Once again, I can easily disarm you-"

"Stephanie!"

"And I bet she had a good reason to divorce, too," I wasn't gonna go down without a fight!

Now he looked hurt. And then gave me a glare, a fire dancing behind his eyes. Mom gave me the same. "She. DIED!" He lunged for me, dropping the gun. Gino didn't do anything, he didn't know what to do.

Mel grabbed Cecil's shirt by the collar, momentarily choking him. In return, he swiped the hand away and punched him in the jaw.

Mine dropped.

Mom got in-between the two, pulling their hair backwards and down. Mel settled, but Cecil pushed her forward. She turned and scratched his arm, which now revealed to be covered in scars. On his right was a giant B.

Was that . . . Bob?

He cried out, and threw it backwards. He stumbled a bit, flailing against the wall. She pinned his arms to it, her face in his. They were both panting.

"If you lay one finger on one of my daughters, then I WILL beat you to a pulp. Maris and Neil are DEAD, and it is not. My. Fault."

I was quite proud of mom then and there. But what did she have to do with his family? I think I would remember meeting them, wouldn't I?

I opened my mouth to congratulate her, but stopped when the ship sent us all flying to the left. I grabbed onto the table, watching the toddlers. They, by now, had gotten a hold of each other. But not to fight. Maggie was clutching Gino's shirt, he grabbed a hold of my hand.

The ship swayed again. Mom let Cecil go. "What's going on?"

"I think there were supposed to be storms coming in. It's alright, we're tied to the dock, we'll be fine," Mel answered.

Gino tightened his grip on my hand. "Um. Uh, Uncle?"

"Ah-ha. Yes, about that . . ." He tugged on his collar.

"What?" Mom was a little slow, but I realized what he did.

"Dude. Copy-catting your brother a little? Were you gonna ask if we had a last request as well?"

He frowned. "What? Bob already did this?"

"Well it doesn't matter now! We need to see how far out we are!"

Mel opened the door. A huge burst of salty wind blasted my face, blowing in rain. Thunder roared, lightening striked, rain came down in buckets, you get the jist, it was a storm! He ran out, followed by Cecil and mom. I almost ran too, until I realized Gino and Maggie were holding onto me now.

"Please, don't leave-a us!"

Maggie sucked on her pacifier, giving me the puppy face.

I gazed at the door.

Stay inside with the kids. Go outside in the storm.

I looked back at them. Gino didn't look so brave now, compared to that opera. He looked more like the child I talked to when his friends abandoned him to see his father. He knew exactly how (they kept asking for favors, nice things in shop windows, ya know?) they abused his upper power.

I attempted to pick them both up (success!), and went into the bedroom. I set them down, recalling the old days when I was the one stuck with Bart and Lisa during thunder storms. Of course, that was when we were really young. Like, I was six, maybe seven. They would come running into my room. Or, more accurately, Bart would carry Lisa. Then we'd stay up a good part of the night telling stories, singing, or whatever kept them calm.

I got on the bed now, and started singing softly, "Something has changed within me. Something is not the same. I through with playing by the rules of someone else's game…**" They fell asleep when I started on a Les Mis song. I covered them both with an extra blanket. Now I was free.

I ran outside, getting my balance. Waves crashed onto the boat, soaking me. I ran up to the helm of the ship, trying to see through the fog. It was thick, I literally couldn't see my hands two inches from my face.

I grabbed a hold of something solid, and followed that wherever it went. I soon figured out it was the side of the boat; the waves felt like someone punching me in the face.

Something wet.

I staggered backwards, and was knocked down by another. It felt like someone had cracked my back, I thought I even heard one.

Wait . . . Might've been the lightening.

I fell and hit my head on something quite solid, and saw stars. Then there was a blinding white flash, and nothing.


Alright. There's the storm. Also, I know the whole Maggie and Gino thing took off pretty fast, but c'mon. Gilligan and Mary Ann, Gino and Maggie.

Lo Zio - Italian for uncle.

* - In a chapter of Life, Cecil catches Bob with an illegal drug (Focusin). In return, he does this to his arms so Cecil won't tell. I don't care if I ruined anything, you already know he comes out scarred.

** - Wicked is not mine. I own nothing from Broadway.

Once again, Stephanie Simpsons is SideshowJazz1's. I own nothing from the Simpsons, all rights go to Matt Groening.