Chapter 2: An Unlikely Team
Disclaimer: I'm in no way affiliated with Matt Groening or FOX Studios. I'm glad this story has received so many good reviews. My poll has been deleted for two reasons. First, no one has voted. And second, I think I've figured out who it will be already. But I would still love to hear your guesses in a review.
Being inconspicuous had never been easy for Sideshow Bob, for painfully obvious reasons. But now he had to, because anyone could be the Reaper. Anyone could be planning to kill him. He was wearing a top hat to conceal his trademark hairstyle, a black trenchcoat two sizes too big, a pair of oversized sunglasses, and he had folded his enormous feet to make them appear normal-sized, like when he was impersonating Walt Warren, and stuffed them into a pair of Doc Martens.
He looks around and sees a man wearing a slightly oversized gray jacket covering up his arms entirely, and Bob knows there is a snake tattoo on one arm and a hook at the end of the other.
Snake is followed by two small spiky-haired shadows, and all four of them go in the secret meeting place they agreed on, the library basement after it closed. They take some seats and Lisa turns on a flashlight.
"All right," says Bob. "It's time to figure out how to put an end to the Reaper. We should start with what we know."
"Which is what, exactly, Sideshow Bob?" demands Bart. "Besides the fact that we're obviously insane by agreeing to work with you?"
"I don't like this arrangement anymore than you do, Bart Simpson," says Bob. "I would gladly slit your weak throat. But we have been given a common adversary here, and must put aside our feud, for now at least."
"He's right, Bart," says Lisa. "We have no choice."
Bob smirks. "You really should listen to your sister more often, Bart."
Bart grumbles. Then he starts to laugh and points at Snake. "Oh, man, why are you dressed like that?"
Snake has taken off his gray jacket with difficulty, and now Bart notices his unusual outfit. He is wearing a long-sleeved red shirt, a purple hat with a long feather, purple pants, and black boots. He grimaces, the sudden attention making him uncomfortable. "Uh, I was, like, reading Peter Pan to Jeremy. I thought it, like, would be funny because my prosthetic arm hasn't come in yet." He shrugs. "They were low on plaster. So, I'm, like, stuck with this hook for a while. I always liked that book when I was his age." He glares at them. "I liked pirates, OK? Especially Captain Hook. So don't judge me."
"While I think that's nice of you, let's not get sidetracked here," says Bob. "Now, Snake, you're probably the most important person in this room."
"Why him?" asks Bart.
"It's because he's the only one of the Reaper's victims who has survived. He knows the most about him – assuming it is a man anyway."
"Uh, Bob?" Snake says. "I'm not sure if you, like, realize this, but that creep only has two victims, including me. So of course I'm the only survivor if there was only one other. And that boozehound bought the farm. Our friend the Reaper made sure of it. And I was totally in the dark the whole time. I, like, hardly know anything about him!"
"Well, just tell us what you do know. We need a lead."
"OK. I didn't see his face. Just a skull on a TV screen. He disguised his voice, so that, like, will be no help to us at all. Uh, whoever it is knows me pretty well, I'd guess. Because he knew I can't stand being called Chester." Bart snickers on hearing that Snake's real name is Chester, but Lisa shushes him. "Anyway, let's take another look at the dead man's list. Maybe the future victims will give us a clue." He pulls it out and looks closer at the names. "Hmm. Like, how could all of these people have pissed of this Reaper dude that badly?"
"Let me see," says Bob. He takes the paper. He looks at the people he trusts, at least right now. Snake couldn't have been the Reaper because he was one of the victims. And while he knew better than perhaps anyone not to underestimate children, he just didn't think they were capable of this, or want to murder their own father. "Let's see, the targets are you, me, these children's father, the chief of police, our mayor, my ex-employer, and the late Bernard Gumble. There must be some connection between all of us that we're simply not getting."
"But what?"
"Well, the two of us are often cellmates. I frequently tried to kill Homer's children. Krusty was my boss. Both of us get in trouble with the law. I served a brief term as mayor of this accursed city."
"And Barney was Dad's best friend," says Bart. "Is that enough?"
"Maybe," says Lisa. "But I still feel there's something we're not getting."
"Is there anything else you remember from when you were the Reaper's captive?" asks Bob.
"Well, I don't think . . . Wait! I just, like, remembered something! He said I make him sick. What with all my robbing the Qwik-E-Mart, running scams, carjacking, and, like, other crimes. Do you think that's the clue? Maybe it's because we all, like, have some kind of some kind of bad habit and that Reaper wants to kill us for it."
"That actually might make sense. I'm an attempted murderer, Quimby is a lecher, Krusty gambles and abuses various substances, Chief Wiggum is an obese, incompetent chump, Barney drank excessively, and of course Homer is an overall buffoon. The question is, who would decide to become a vigilante to cleanse Springfield of all these people?"
A moment of silence, until Lisa says, "Do you know who would be interested in unhealthy habits? A doctor. And do you know who was mysteriously absent from the hospital the day Snake was taken in there?"
"Dr. Hibbert?" asks Bart.
"Yes, that is curious. He never misses a day at the hospital," says Bob. "Why would he miss one then? Maybe the good doctor has some new practices."
"Wait, you think the doc's behind this?" asks Snake, baffled. "He, like, doesn't seem the type."
"Well, it isalways the one nobody expects," Bart points out.
"Actually, it usually is the most likely suspect in 95% of murder cases," Lisa corrects. "The other five percent, it's just some random nut."
"The point is," says Bob, "maybe he is behind it, or maybe he has a legitimate excuse for taking time off. Either way, we should check him out. Anything else? Perhaps we should visit the scene of the crime. Do you know where it is?"
"I don't think so. It was, like, in the dark, remember? And in case you forgot I was losing blood, so things were blurry."
"I've got an idea!" says Bart. "You could let Santa's Little Helper sniff the list, and he could lead us right to that hell-hole. Don't hold it too close to his mouth, though, or he'll eat it, and we'll all be doomed."
"Not a bad idea, Bart," says his archenemy.
Later that night, while Homer is stuffing his face with a carton of triple chocolate ice cream and Marge irons clothes for the week, Bart and Lisa bring their greyhound outside on a leash. Snake and Bob stick their heads out of the bushes and motion for them to hurry up. Unfortunately, SLH starts barking at the two of them. They panic, as Lisa tries to quiet him to no avail. Just as Bart puts his hand over his dog's mouth, his parents come to the door.
"Bart? Lisa? What's going on out there?" demands Marge.
"Is it a burglar?" says Homer. "I've got the Defender!" he threatens. He comes out the door swinging his cinder block on a chain, but then he and Marge scream at the sight of them. "Aaaaah!"
"Aaaaah!" scream Bob and Snake. They jump back and fall on each other.
"Oh my God, it's Dr. Claw!" says Homer. "Don't make me call Inspector Gadget!"
Snake groans and slaps his forehead with his good hand. "Homer, that's not Dr. Claw," explains Marge. "That's Snake Jailbird and Sideshow Bob. You know, the criminal who lost his hand and the one who wants to kill our son."
"You know I'm not the only one-handed offender in town," mutters Snake. But Homer ignores him.
"Aaaaah! Sideshow Bob!" Bob rolls his eyes for having to go through this again. "He's been let out of prison again?! Man, you must have been behaving really good."
"Mr. Simpson, that doesn't matter now. What is important is that somone is planning on killing you."
"You're threatening to kill my husband!" screams Marge. "Go away before I get a restraining order on you!"
"No, not me. Someone else. I've never been interested in taking your life, Homer."
"Yes, you have," say the Simpsons.
"OK, I have. But I've usually only desired murdering young Bart. And I don't even want ot do that now."
"Is it Patty and Selma?" asks Homer.
"No, Homer. Well, maybe . . . No."
"Is it Frank Grimes, Jr?"
"We don't know! That's what we're trying to uncover!"
"We?" asks Marge.
"That's right, Mom," says Lisa. "Bart, Bob, Snake, and I are trying to stop the Reaper."
"How?"
"We've, like, got his list," says Snake, holding it up to show them. "Everyone he wants to kill is on there. Look, I'm the second dude on the list."
"I'm also a target," adds Bob.
"Oh my God, Marge, they're right! I'm on that guy's hit list! What are we gonna do?!"
"We've got a plan, Dad," says Bart. "Santa's Little Helper is going to sniff that list and try to trace it back to the Reaper."
"In the meantime, you should probably call the police and tell them who the targets will be," suggests Lisa.
"OK," says Marge, "but why should we trust them? After all they've done to us?"
"Well," says Lisa, "Snake lost his hand and is desperate for revenge. Plus, since he's the Reaper's only surviving casualty, he knows more about him than anyone. He's already been very helpful."
"It's all Bob's idea," says Bart. "He thinks we should because all our lives are at stake. And I hate to say this, but he is a genius." Bob looks pleasantly surprised at this flattery from his rival. "Even though he's never successfully killed me. Or anyone. I can't believe I'm saying this, but joining forces may be our only hope to survive."
Marge sighs, knowing she's about to give in. "All right. But do you two promise not to hurt my babies? Because if anything happens to them when they're with you, I'll do the Reaper a favor and kill you myself. Do you understand?"
"Madam, you have my word," Bob reassures, as Snake nods in agreement.
"We'll be fine," says Lisa. "We have Santa's Little Helper with us."
As the surprising alliance walks off in search of answers, tears come to Marge's eyes. "I can't believe it. My babies are solving their first murder mystery."
Little do they know the terror they will be faced with soon. I was originally going to make this story three chapters long, but I received a request to make this as long as possible, so it might be between four and five. The next one will be completed ASAP.