A class of fourth graders gathered at the foot of the stairs out front of the small police station. Some were standing, but most were on sitting on the concrete, their legs having given out from two hours of waiting. Sitting above them at the top of the steps was their teacher, Edna Krabappel. She'd given up on knocking after fifteen minutes, instead opting to light and smoke one of the many packs of cigarettes she carried on her at all times.

An incoming siren caused many of the sitting children to rise from the ground to get a good look at the sound's source. Swerving around the corner, and breaking about a dozen of the very traffic laws he swore to enforce, was Springfield Chief of Police Clancy Wiggum. The sound of the siren was nearly drowned out by squealing tires as the officer did his best to stop his speeding car before it reached the sidewalk out front of the station. He was almost successful, with only a few students jumping backward to avoid being hit. He slammed open the driver's side door, repeating an apology and struggling to fit his massive body through the doorway. "Sorry, sorry."

Edna forced the ignited tip of her cigarette onto the concrete next to her before tossing it away. Then, she, along with the few students who had remained sitting during Wiggum's grand entrance, stood up and moved to one side to allow the overweight cop to pass. "Are you ready to start the tour?" She asked as the children followed the officer up the stairs.

"Uhhh... yeah," Wiggum replied. "Okay kids," he addressed the class. "We're here to pass through the Museum..." Groans immediately emerged from the students, but they quickly turned to cheers as the officer added: "of Crime!" With the tour guide present, the students filed into the dark corridors of the small museum that had been built into the police station. Well, most of them.

–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–

The fourth graders weren't the only class with a day off, however. Back at the Springfield Elementary, Elizabeth Hoover's third-grade class was sitting through their fifth film that morning. After the semi-educational movie, The Joy of Sand, had finished, a single hand rose up from the front of the classroom.

"Umm... Miss Hoover?" The hand belonged to none other than class genius Lisa Simpson, who turned to face her less-than-motivated teacher. "Movies are great and all, but couldn't we be doing something more..." She paused, searching for the right word in her head. "challenging?"

"Well, I suppose we could be." For a split second, Lisa's face lit up. However, she was instantly brought back down when her teacher added a half ironic "But that would be too hard." and inserted another film into the projector.

Lisa let out an annoyed grunt and returned her attention to the white screen at the front of the classroom, which was now showing an old black and white movie about the Moon.

Due to the darkness, and the fact that everyone in the class was at least half asleep, if not completely out cold, not a single student noticed Miss Hoover exit not just the classroom, but the school grounds. It was only when the film ended that her absence was discovered.

"Okay, Miss Hoover," Lisa started, fully intending to give her teacher a stern talking-to. However, as she turned around, she found her teacher was missing. "Miss Hoover?"

"Her car is gone," One student noted. Lisa and some others joined that student at the window to view Miss Hoover's now empty parking space, confirming the statement.

"Now what?" Another student asked.

Lisa let out a "hmph" and headed towards the classroom door. With Miss Hoover gone, she would have to give her talking-to to somebody else. The class noticed the sound of the door handle turning and spun around to see who had come in, only to find that it wasn't someone entering the room; rather, it was someone exiting it.

"Hey, you can't leave until the bell rings," A student remarked.

"Why not?" Lisa shot back. "The teacher did." She stood in the doorway for a second to see if anyone could come up with a good response. When nobody did, she simply said "That's what I thought." and left.

However, leaving the school entirely wasn't her plan. Instead, she headed down the hall to Principal Skinner's office, slamming the door open.

"Principal Skinner."

"Lisa." Skinner greeted her back. "What can I help you with?"

"Well, sir, it's not my nature to complain, but so far today we've had three movies, two film strips, and an hour and a half of..." Lisa paused mid-sentence to shudder. "'magazine time.' I just don't feel challenged."

"Well, Lisa, you may not feel challenged, but I bet you the dumber students are having a horrible time trying to read those magazines. If we made it any harder, you'd be the only one to not be held back."

"I'm not asking for much, just some simple multiplication would be enough."

"Multiplication?" Skinner asked with a laugh. "What do you think this is? College?"

Lisa lowered her head in sorrow and kept it lowered as she exited the office and walked back to the teacher-less classroom.

–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–

Meanwhile at the police station, Lisa's older brother Bart had secretly broken off from his fourth-grade classmates. He headed towards a place at the station with contents guaranteed to be much more interesting than whatever the museum had to offer. With his well-honed skills, and the help of many signs, he quickly found the room he was looking for.

Glancing upward, he read out the sign above the doorway to himself. "Armory." Then, with an evil chuckle, he entered the sacred room.

His anticipation wouldn't last, however. "Aw boo," he said, disappointed at the many padlocks put on the weapon lockers.

Then, looking at the wall opposite, he found something louder, if not more interesting. Picking up a single megaphone off the wall of dozens, he pressed the trigger down and held the device to his mouth.

"Testing."

Intrigued at the increase in volume, he grabbed another, this time placing it in front of the first.

"Testing!"

As he had hoped, his speech volume was multiplicatively amplified. With this new discovery, he had a brilliant idea.

Grabbing one after another off the wall, Bart made a line of megaphones. Using tape to hold the triggers down, he placed the line atop a row of chairs for support and pointed his newly designed weapon out the window.

Being as quiet as his ADHD would allow him to be, he placed his mouth at the back of the line and said a single word that would change his life forever.

"TESTING!"

The word burst through the air in a manner more akin to shockwaves than sound waves. Not even noise of the hundreds of shattering windows could overtake the monstrous noise. The whole city vibrated as if the very Earth was shifting beneath it.

Bart, standing at ground zero, was thrust backward by the wave, smacking into the gun lockers behind him and blacking out.

"Holy Crud!" Clancy Wiggum exclaimed when he entered the room. Not that anyone heard him, as wave had left a loud ringing in the ears of every Springfield resident. "Wake up!"

Bart awoke, and standing before him was Chief Wiggum, Edna Krabappel, and his entire fourth-grade class.

"Come here." Clancy grabbed the boy by his sleeve and dragged him through the building, out the entrance, and into the back of his now windowless cruiser.

–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–

The Simpsons family gathered at their house on Evergreen Terrace. Homer knew to come home as soon as the wave hit the power plant. After all, it didn't take a genius to figure out who was behind it.

The ringing having ceased after fifteen minutes, Lisa, Bart, Marge, Homer, and Maggie sat in their living room, accompanied by the chief of police.

"Why on Earth would you even do this?" Marge asked her son.

"It looked like fun," Bart replied sincerely.

Marge sighed in disappointment. "Now about your punishment." The mother started.

"I know. I'll go to my room and think about what I've done." Bart finished, his actual sincerity having been replaced by fake sincerity.

He was about to leave the room when his father stopped him. "Oh no, you don't. There are toys in your room. You're going to..." He paused, trying to think of a place where even Bart couldn't have fun. He decided on "the garage."

Turning around and heading to the garage, Bart kept his head low to help keep up his act, for he knew that the garage had just as many fun toys as his room, even if the average person wouldn't call them that.

"I just don't know what to do with him," Marge said aloud to herself more than anyone else in the room.

"I mean, there are options," Wiggum noted. He thought for a minute before an idea popped into his head. "You know, there's always military school."

"Military school?"

"Yeah. Set my brother straight. Now he owns and operates a famous cave."

"Hmm..."

–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–

"We're goin' to Disney Land, we're goin' to Disney Land." Bart chanted as he descended the stairs, suitcase in hand, and headed out the front door.

It wasn't until the family had set left Evergreen Terrace that the young boy noticed something suspicious. "Hey, where's your guys' luggage?"

"Why would we need luggage?" Homer asked.

"For Disney Land."

"Who said anything about Disney Land? I said we were going to a military school." Homer replied.

"Wait, we aren't going to Disney Land?" Bart asked in a tone brimming with fear.

"Wait for it..." Lisa said aloud.

"Wait! Military school?!"

"There it is."

"Yes, Bart." Marge started. "Chief Wiggum said it really helped his brother."

"His brother operates a cave!" Bart exclaimed.

"A famous cave," Homer added.

"Still. We think it's a good idea. So deal with it."

Bart flopped back in his seat, arms as crossed as his body would allow them to be.

–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–

The drive to Rommelwood Military Academy wasn't very long. As the Simpsons exited their car, they saw a middle-aged man dressed in military formal wear.

"Greetings." He welcomed them. "I'm Commandant."

"Hello, Commandant..." Marge trailed off as he shook his hand, intending for him to finish the sentence.

"Commandant."

"Yes, but what's your name?"

"Commandant."

"And you're the commandant of the academy?"

"Yes."

"So you're Commandant Commandant?" Lisa wondered.

"Correct." The man confirmed.

"Ha! I guess you were born for this job, huh?" Homer joked.

"Thank you, sir. That's only the four hundred and twelfth time I've heard that joke this year."

Homer let out a small whimper of defeat as the commandant began their tour.

–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–

"And that's how we'll mold your boy into a productive member of society through an intensive program of push-ups and formation marching." The commandant finished as he led the family through to where the other cadets stood. "The other students have already arrived since it's a month into the year."

"Yes, sorry about that." Marge apologized.

"Oh, it's no problem." He replied as the arrived at the other cadets.

Standing before the family was two rows of young uniformed students, standing completely straight. "Our high standards challenge students to reach their full potential."

"Wow," Lisa exclaimed. "They're so disciplined. They're just like the terra-cotta warriors of Xi'An."

"They sure are." Homer agreed as he picked up a rock from the ground and tossed it at the back row of cadets.

The rock hit one right in the middle of his back, who proceeded to break formation in order to writhe in pain.

"They're not so disciplined."

"They're just kids, Mr. Simpson." The commandant defended his pupils.

"I guess." Homer picked up another rock and tossed it at a different student. However, this time, the student, a red-haired cadet, caught the rock in his hand before slamming it onto the concrete under him, shattering the stone into dozens of shards. "Whoa."

"Yes, that's Damion, our most gifted athlete." The commandant noted as he continued the tour.

After touring the outer campus, the commandant led the family through one of the many school buildings. "Truth is beauty, beauty, truth, sir!" Lisa overheard the answer coming from inside one of the classrooms. Sprinting ahead, she reached the classroom and peeked in.

She gasped with joy at what she saw inside. "They're discussing poetry," Lisa told her family as they caught up with her. "We never do that at my school." She added.

As they toured the other buildings, Lisa's smile became wider and wider. Chemistry, world history, English literature, algebra, physics, and more caught her eyes as they move through the school. It was then that she made up her mind.

–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–|–

"Please don't make me stay!" Bart cried out as he held tightly onto his father's leg in a less-than-dignitary manner.

"Let go of my leg," Homer ordered.

"Nooo!" Bart cried back.

"Son, for the last time, you're staying at military school."

And at that moment, Lisa shared her decision. With crossed arms and eyes full of determination, she said the sentence that would change her life forever.

"And so am I."


A/N: I hoped you enjoyed the first chapter of my newest story. If it sounded familiar, it's probably because it's a lightly modified novelization of the first third of my favorite episode, The Secret War of Lisa Simpson. This is because this story will be heavily based off the episode. However, I fully intend to flesh out the story greatly. This will NOT be a simple novelization of the episode. It only starts that way. I will have new character development, new plot lines, and a completely different ending than that of the episode.

Also, I do a thing where if you review, you get a preview of the first 400 words of the next chapters as soon as their written. (Doesn't apply to guest reviews.) So, yeah.