Rebel, Rebel

Note: A sequel to "Fluey Stewie", in which Stewie is left to his own devices to destroy Lois. Of course, he also has middle school to worry about…but which comes first ? Homework or matricide ?

"When a devil comes to your doorstep with a deal made with suitcases, its hard to walk away. Believe me."—wise words from the Lifetime movie WiseGal

"Happiness is a warm gun."—lyrics speak for themselves, The Beatles

Chapter 1—Back to the Drawing Board

Stewie was now understood by his entire family, rather than his oldest friend and companion, Bryan. They might not have been able to comprehend his verbose use of language or his like of tossing about multi-syllabic words as if they were mere child's play. He was glad that Chris and Meg were gone; Meg was in college and Chris was off touring the United States in his rock band Marginal.

Each weapon Stewie had ever made or purchased over the years through his line of jobs growing up (some employers couldn't hire him because of child labor laws) had been stored in his closet and he felt the powerful pull of it once again. He had nearly forgotten it since he had been working hard to get into the best and most expensive college in the area. Then again the allure of that closet seemed to transfix and hypnotize him, stock to the brim with more weapons than he could count. He was astonished the closet could still shut entirely even though it was too full of artillery and weaponry enclosed within its chamber. He looked eagerly at it while working his homework and wrung his hands greedily. He could envision pumping his mother's body full of bullet holes, her Swiss-cheese ridden body lying on the floor, pooling with blood; dead in front of God and country. He had missed the color of blood, the smell and taste of it. He slapped himself across the face hard, which stung like hell.

"No Stewie, damn it ! You're almost done. Work comes first, play later.", Stewie said to himself, a bead of sweat trickling off of his ovular head onto his paper. He wiped his forehead off, and drank a bit of Mountain Dew to finish his rough draft for English. It would still have to be proof read for later, but all of his homework was completed for the night. With a manic laugh, he rushed to his closet and nearly drooled upon seeing all the destructive treasures he had kept for himself all those years. He knew Lois would be arriving home from work and he knew just what he would use to greet her. His trusty bazooka, "Boom Baby", was the right surprise for his greatest adversary.

Chapter 2—Lois Go Boom ?

Stewie was perfectly self-reliant and didn't need his mother's help with some things that certain members of the male sex find challenging, such as cooking, cleaning, taking care of the laundry and accessorizing clothes. He had made dinner for Lois, Peter and Brian as usual, waiting for his opportunity for Brian to shuffle off to watch TV in the second room with Peter. Lois would then enter her study and check her email, unwatched by her supposed "protectors". It would be the perfect moment to fire "Boom Baby" and watch the blood spatter the walls. Stewie rubbed his hands together at the shear thought of it. It caused his adrenaline to begin throbbing in his veins but then he took a quick, deep, zen-like breath to calm himself.

"Too soon to become overzealous.", he thought to himself as he waited for the opportune time to finish Lois off.

The dinner seemed to take hours longer than originally planned. At long last the family members hurried off to take part in activities of their own. From the hallway, Stewie took aim through the crosshairs of Boom Baby and prepared to fire. He was almost successful until Brian interrupted him. It was fortunate the bazooka hadn't gone off and the bomb itself caused a hole in the roof. Lois was infuriated and Peter wasn't much happier.

"You are grounded until further notice, young man.", Peter said, with glowering eyes. Before Stewie could come back with a witty retort, Lois stood in front of him with her hands upon her hips. He had been screwed, royally. Accepting his fate, he skulked upstairs and shut the door behind him, looking for a Plan B to his plot of murderous intent.

Chapter 3—Poison Soup, Anyone ?

Stewie gave an exemplary report the following day, just as with all of his courses. Everything was far too simple for him and it was a wonder why he hadn't been advanced to college at his age. He had skipped ahead a few grades in grade school and junior high as well. The only reason that he hadn't been advanced was because of his age. He wasn't much for complaining about that. Besides, he would be able to start earning more money as soon as he gained more experience. And through his connections in the Black Market, he could've been a junior-league KGB member (and nearly was).

Lois and Peter were quite pleased with Stewie's work and both of them had seemingly forgotten about his "outbursts" earlier in the week. But, Stewie was back to his usual mischief. He had been busily preparing different poisons, each more deadly than the last, and his latest batch had proven to be the most potent. Tonight, everyone would be enjoying clam chowder, a perennial favorite, no matter what the weather was. Chuckling manically to himself, he prepared dinner for his family before they returned home, hoping the poison would take effect. To make sure it would, he even risked putting it in his own bowl, but a lesser degree and a less violent recipe. His would only cause mild sickness rather than death. As for his mom and dad, they would be dead when they hit the floor, and even Brian, his closest companion, alas, he would have to depart as well.

The family sat down at dinner, talking about their days as usual and Stewie waited. Peter and Lois became limp, shook a bit and then no longer moved. It was only a few minutes of victory however, because as soon as the effects of the poison wore off, they were talking to each other as if nothing happened. Sadly, Bryan had fallen ill, and Stewie of course, blamed botulism for that. He enjoyed the praise from mom and dad as usual, but felt utterly defeated.

"I will get you. You'll see. One day, you'll be minding your business and then suddenly, it'll be lights out. Then at last, I will have the vengeance I seek and I can start my campaign for world domination.", Stewie thought to himself as he trudged upstairs and thought of his next plan of action.

Chapter 4—Screw Killing People, World Domination's More Practical

Sadly, the further plans Stewie had about destroying the Griffins always ended badly. Stewie nearly lost his life by having a satellite deploy a missile from Iran (and who'd a thunk it, we thought there were no missiles there, wrong ! The government lied, what a surprise) targeting the Griffin residence. Sure, he had to shell out thousands of dollars for a new home and that meant losing half of his artillery collection. It didn't really matter since he had ties with crime families and of course, friendships in black markets where governments had no control over sales of weaponry terrorists only dream about owning. Every time he tried, it was either horrible timing or that his mother had foiled him once more. He was almost ready to graduate and he felt college was important. Still the voices in his colossal cranium stirred him to never give up and never to back down. He took the words of his favorite historical figure to heart: "Never, never, never, never, never…never, never, never…never…Give up." So with that, he gave up, and decided to take the route he had never tried before. Conquering the globe.

Chapter 5—Swell Party, Off To Rule the World

Graduation had come and gone like Stewie had believed it would. Everything was running as planned. He had gotten accepted into the most prestigious college in the world, Harvard, and had enough scholarships to grant him a free-ride into tuition. He wouldn't be seeing mommy or daddy anytime soon again. He wouldn't really miss them even though they had taken such good care of him. They had loved him although he had his malicious intent against them. Maybe, deep in his heart he had to admit some part of him loved them in return, but he wouldn't say it out loud. No, it isn't like a killer to admit he has love in his heart but, Stewie kept that fact in the back of his mind, hoping to keep that inner turmoil active. That was the sort of topic that sold millions of best-selling books and he wasn't about to let that psychological unrest go unused.

Meg and Chris had returned to congratulate their youngest brother. Oddly enough, Meg wasn't flat chested any longer. She had grown positively stunning and had a very handsome boyfriend beside her. Chris was with his band Marginal and they sang a few of their unintelligible songs for the delight (or annoyance in this case) of Stewie. Strangely, they were being hailed as the next Pixies or Stooges, which they weren't even close to resembling.

Chris had been the first to disembark with Marginal. He had gotten his fair share of cocktails from the party and was enjoying the high from the alcohol. He was a bit of a partier now, but not an alcoholic. Sure he would find himself high on beer sometimes, but not too terribly often. He knew how to control himself for the fate of others around him and the image of the band. He knew he'd have a hangover tomorrow but at least he had the time of his life and had wished Stewie all the best. He didn't even take his lifelong dream as a threat. He just saw it as the ranting of a madman and left in the "shagadelic" van that Chris had painted to look like a postcard from Hawaii.

Meg had lingered around longer than anyone else and seemed to be most stricken by Stewie leaving the house.

"Stewie, you're all grown up.", she said, her eyes overflowing with tears.

"And so have you, I'm getting engulfed in your enormous breasts…", Stewie said, gasping for air. His head popped out like a cork from wine, making a smack sound. Meg couldn't help but giggle at that.

"Man, I love these casabas. I couldn't do that with my breasts before.", she snickered, flaunting them a bit.

"I can see that, but would you stop !", Stewie said, getting tired of her bouncing all over the place like some ditsy cheerleader trying to get attention from the lead quarterback.

"So, where are you and Gavin off to ?", Stewie said, after a long pause.

"Back home. Can you believe it, I'm going to be married next month !", Meg said, her voice bubbling over with anticipation. Stewie definitely couldn't believe it, but with a body that smoking hot, it was no wonder and frankly, he was pleased for her.

"Congratulations. Well, it's been a swell party, but I have to run. You know, plans to rule the world and what-not.", Stewie said. Meg tousled his scruffy head of hair and chortled again.

"Good luck with that, Adolph.", she teased him before taking Gavin by the hand and leaving. He thought, "She won't be laughing for long, and neither will the rest of the world when I am through with it."

Epilogue

On and on it went until Stewie was elected as the governor of Quahog. Unfortunately, he never became President like he had wanted to, but his term hadn't lasted as long as he wanted it to. He was ousted from office by Adam West, who had been the governor for years now even though he was getting old and quite inept of doing anything good for the city. Be that as it may, people hated Stewie's communistic views and after his short regime, had him replaced by West to reinstate the harmony that Quahog had come to enjoy.

Stewie again, felt rather defeated and saddened by his loss. Not only had he ultimately failed to kill his entire family but he had failed as a possible dictator. He looked to such role models as Stalin, Hitler, Mussolini, Saddam and more recently, Fidel Castro. Castro had stepped down from his post as the totalitarian despot dictator of Cuba, but strangely, the people had loved him for his work. Stewie felt that he had done the honorable thing since he had been a successful CEO for years now. Strangely, the young fellow didn't feel disillusioned by his plans constantly getting thwarted. He controlled a small part of the "world" in his mind and at least that was good enough to satisfy his desire to boss people around and not get backed into a corner ever again.

The End