Well the time has come again for another update! I'd like everyone who reads this chapter to leave me a review, so I can know how I have been doing. Well, I think I have done enough blabbing, so on to the story.

No matter where you put me, I don't care if it is North Carolina, Florida, California, New York City; I'm going to be who I am.

-Chris Paul

"Well, we should be pulling in to Fort Myers in the next ten minutes, so please return to your seats, put on your seat belts, and prepare for landing. Thank you for traveling with Federal Eagle Airline, and we hope that we see you next time."

For the first time in his life, Simba was about to experience the landing of an airplane. The flight itself had been about six hours, and was relatively smooth for the most part.

As the plane began to descend, the former prince began to feel worse then he ever had in his entire life. His ears popped, causing Simba to almost completely lose his hearing. All of the moisture in his mouth was completely eliminated, leaving it like the scarred earth in drought-stricken California. His stomach plunged and in its place was a feeling of awful nausea.

Eventually, the feeling ceased, and the ex-prince's stomach returned to normality. His guardians led him off the plane into an indoor center of shops and restaurants the likes of which he had never seen. Then, he heard a strong Brooklyn accent to his left.

"Never seen an airport kid?"

Simba shook his head. "Nope. My father barely let me out of our apartment in Pride Rock. Is all of America like this?"

Pumbaa nodded. "Most of it anyway. There are a few areas you may want to avoid, but most of the country is even better than this!"

"Yeah! In most places in America, you can get a freakin' donut for less than five bucks. Damn! These airports really nickel and dime you to death."

Pumbaa sighed, and placed his face into his palm. "Timon, you are the heir to an oil tycoon. Why are you complaining about the price of donuts?"

Timon sulked, and said nothing as the trio continued their journey to the elusive parking lot. Eventually, they arrived at a large Mercedes, and they all climbed in. Pumbaa drove, as Timon was without a license. The reason for this was because he "accidentally" spilled coffee on a cop who pulled him over for speeding. What a great role model!

"Hey! I detected some sarcasm in there!"

Sorry Timon, but even the narrator needs some entertainment. After about forty minutes of driving, the group arrived at a large house with the beach as its backyard. Large amounts of palm trees surrounded the home, almost shrouding it in green.

"Well, here ya go kid! Home sweet home!"

Simba walked inside and he was stunned by what he saw. There were twin living rooms, both of which had views of the beach outside. There was a large balcony that could double as a patio. There were enough bedrooms for each of the trio to sleep in alone. In the center of the home lay a kitchen, which would probably serve as a meeting place. They didn't have any permanent neighbors, as all of the homes nearby were vacation homes. Simba chose his bedroom, and he collapsed on to exhausted from the events of the day.

Meanwhile…

"Mheetu, are you sure you want to do this?"

"I have to Nala! I can't live here anymore! I hated it before Simba went missing, but now Mufasa has gotten even crazier!"

"But where will you go?"

"The guy on the cargo ship says he knows our Uncle Reggie, and that he lives in a place called Fort Myers."

Nala began to cry. "I don't want you to leave!"

"Don't cry sis, you are strong, and you will be okay. Even if I am a million miles away, I'll always be there for you. We're twins! How could I not be?" Mheetu sighed. "Are you sure that you don't want to come with me?"

Nala nodded. "I can't leave yet. Maybe someday, but not yet."

"I understand. I love you Nala."

"Be safe, brother. I love you too…"

The next morning…

Simba woke up with a huge yawn. He looked over at the clock beside him. 11:25 AM. He stretched and struggled to get out of bed. Eventually, he succeeded, and he walked into the kitchen. Timon and Pumbaa were already sitting at the table.

"Heya kid. Ya sleep well?"

Simba nodded. "Very. So what is for breakfast?"

"Well, what did ya have back in Pride Rock?"

"Well, usually, my breakfast was broiled salmon basted in a green caviar vinaigrette, which was then covered in exotic spices made in a place called Utah, and then topped with crushed pecans."

"Kid, if ya want to live with us, ya got to eat like us, and here in America, our usual breakfast contains eggs, bacon, and juice, so that is what we are having."

Pumbaa placed a plate containing the items mentioned previously in front of Simba. The former prince held up the strip of bacon, unsure of what to do with it.

"Eat the friggen bacon already! It is good for for ya soul!"

Simba cautiously took a bite out of the meat. To say that he loved it would not do this moment justice. Simba smiled. It seemed that American cuisine would be quite satisfactory for him.

Well, that is all for now. I will have the next chapter up either tonight or tomorrow morning. PLEASE don't forget to leave me a review. Again, it will only improve my writing. I think I've done enough blabbing, so I think I am going to check out of the writing hotel now. Bye!