Edits 05/07/2019: Updated the grammar and spelling.

Authors notes: There is a gag in this chapter where ~ means Homer changes channels on the TV, you'll see what I mean when you read it ;)

Chapter 10

Back to School

Footsteps echoed around the large hall. They became louder and louder as the guard came closer and closer. As he passed they slowly became more and more distant and quiet.

Robert Terwilliger hated prison. The food was horrid, the accommodation was horrid, the service was horrid, everything was utterly horrid about prison. The only place where you could get worse accommodation was a London student apartment.

Springfield prison wasn't so bad through. The food was free, the water was free and in a way he was getting revenge on the country and its people by just staying in prison since it cost the tax payers their hard earned money to keep him alive in here like a caged animal. He chuckled under his breath as he lay on his bed, his large puffed out hair acting like an effective pillow since his real pillow was so hard you could bludgeon someone to death with it.

It was four in the morning and the rest of the prison ward was asleep. Except Snake, who was still fussing over getting revenge on this new maniac in town called Green Face. There was also a skinny hillbilly who still lay awake pining for his 'true love,' which turned out to be the reason he was in here; for doing obscene things to a pig. Lord knew what he did to it to end up in here and Robert would rather not think of the possibilities.

Also Fat Tony, local mafia gangster was also awake, plotting revenge on someone who ratted him out during an 'exchange,' and was planning to have said rat murdered with concrete shoes in a river. A little cliché he admitted but effective, if only Robert could get rid of his enemies as easily while on the inside.

Robert listened for the guard coming closer to his cell doors again, and waited in the semi-darkness as the echoing footsteps came and walked past, and continued onwards around the cell block again. When he was satisfied no one else was coming he reached under his pillow and produced a black book with the Christian cross on it, a holy bible. He placed one hand on it and almost stroked it. When he was 100 percent certain no one else was coming he opened the book on a particular page, revelations. Quite a quaint page in retrospect because between the pages were two photographs. Two photos of people who remind him why he was in this rotting stink hole in the first place, and the whole reason he wanted out. He picked out one, it was very old and full of holes from when he would attach it to a dart board and throw darts at it. The photo was of a ten year old boy with spiky blond hair who had an overall look of smugness that only boiled his blood further.

Bart Simpson! The whole reason he, Robert Underdunk Terwilliger, or better known by his stage name, Sideshow Bob, was in this mess in the first place. He hated the boy with a passion to rival Napoleon Bonaparte's hatred of the English, Harry Potters hatred for Snape, Fox's hatred for proper quality programming, and even the worlds hatred of Simon Cowell combined.

He hated the boy, because he had foiled several of his master schemes. The first of which was to frame Krusty the Clown by robbing the Kwik-E-mart in the guise of Krusty. But the truth came out thanks to Bart, and Bob was locked up and sent to prison. But he didn't stay locked up for long, he got out and married an old crone he planned to eventually kill and steal her life savings, again the plan was foiled by Bart. Bob even tried to run for mayor of Springfield, again foiled by Bart, Bart, Bart! Those words echoed in his head each time becoming louder and louder and amplifying his hatred for the boy. He'd developed a murderous rage to kill Bart Simpson, but whenever Bob managed to breakout he was foiled time and again. If he managed to break out yet again, he'd track down and try to murder Bart again. A little repetitive he admitted and clichéd, but there was a problem. No matter how clever and ingenious his plans were, he was always out maneuvered by Bart Simpson, and his smart-alic sister, Lisa.

That's who the other photo between the pages of the book was of. The photo was newer than Barts and showed a young girl with blond spiky punk like hair, Lisa Simpson. Usually he didn't bother with the sister, she was clever, but Bob always considered Bart the target to murder. Sure, she helped Bart catch him again and again, but it was always Bart who had the last laugh, it was Bart's smug face he had pictured in his mind when his plans came tumbling down.

Lisa was only added to his hit list after a misadventure in Italy, when he became the mayor of a small town in Tuscany. The people there loved him because of his freakishly huge feet, which he'd used to squash the berries they harvested to produce their wine. They loved him so much that they made him mayor of the town. He even had a wife and a son, and they were all happy together. For once, Bob wasn't on the run and his life ambition wasn't to kill, kill, kill anymore. He had a wife, a new life... until the Simpson family turn up and ruined it all. Lisa was his undoing there, because unfortunately in Italy the young are allowed to drink wine at dinner and Lisa, unused to the sweet mature alcohol, couldn't handle the stuff and became drunk rapidly. She started blabbing about Bobs former life in America, that he was once in prison for attempted murder on several counts. The towns people stripped him of his title and his role and rejected him, kicking him out of his new home. Now he had a boiling hatred of both of the Simpson kids, especially Lisa, but 'especially' Bart.

Bob wanted to crush both photos in his hands there and then, to tear them to shreds; but what a guy had to do to get extra photos of your enemies while in this prison was ridicules. Instead he slid the photos back into the bible on the page which described the end of days and returned it to his pillow. Then he unleashed his full rage on the pillow by repeatedly punching it, and would continue to punch it until either his anger ebbed away or the guard came, whichever came first. It turned out to be the guard and Bob quickly pretended to be asleep as the guard past.

How Bob wanted to kill the two Simpson kids, but first he had to work out a way to escape this hellish place.

Crash, bash, bang! Bob was wide away as the wall of his cell furthest from the bars came crumbling down in a large pile of masonry and dust. When the dust cleared he could see through the wall a large grey creature with an incredibly long snout, an elephant? What was that doing here? It raised its long snout and gave a loud trumpet as it moved through his cell, broke down his bars and continued into the hall, stamping its feet.

Through the broken wall then came several armed police officers and animal control officers brandishing tranquiliser guns. They passed him without notice and continued into the hall were the elephant continued to stamp around causing chaos. The animal control officers were then followed through the hole in the cell by the chief of police himself Clancy Wiggum and his partners Lou and Ed.

"Oh, hi bob!" said the chief cheerily. "Don't worry, this is just an attempt to recapture an escaped elephant"

"Hey Chief," said Lou, "Shouldn't we have tried to recapture these animals after they first escaped?"

"There's a very good reason we didn't do that first, Lou." Wiggum said, as if he was about to say something incredibly impressive that would explain it all away. "I'm an incompetent police officer." He said as if this explained everything, and ironically, it did.

The chief turned back to Bob and gave him one of those looks to show he really meant business. "Now Bob, do you promise not to escape while we catch this elephant?"

"Oh, well if that's all, then I promise that I will 'not' attempt to escape through this great big hole in my cell." He said as if this had never occurred to him. He'd spoken in a voice which showed he was well educated, but then his voice adopted a very dark undertone. "To escape from this dark, rotting, stinking hell hole and get revenge on those who put me away?" Then his voice went back to its normal, well-spoken manner. "Really Wiggum, the thought never really crossed my mind!" Bob added and the chief of police bought and swallowed this quicker than a cupcake at a bake sale.

"Good enough for me." The fat idiot said, and he climbed the rubble to go help with the capture of the escaped titan. "You see boys, you always have to outsmart these master criminals. They all think they're smarter than the law."

But as these words left Wiggums mouth he failed to notice Sideshow Bob was already through the broken wall, past the guards and out into the court yard. He could see the hole in the outer wall of the prison where his grey saviour broke in. He took a step closer to the hole to freedom when, BAM! A long stick of wood swung up from the ground and bashed him in the face.

He grumbled under his breath as he took the rake he'd stood on and tossed it out of the way. He ran for freedom as fast as his freakishly large feet could carry him, almost there, almost! He climbed through the hole and he was free, free at last! He took a step forward and bash! Another wooden rake fired up and slammed into his face. He grumbled his annoyance as he picked it up and threw it away before disappearing into the forest.

He was free, free to plot and plan his ultimate revenge on Bart Simpson and his sister.

4 weeks later…

9:10 am

"Okay class, welcome back to school." said Miss Hoover un-enthusiastically as she called out the roll call. "James?" "Present" "Christopher?" "Present" "Lisa?" "Present" "Ralph?" "I'd like a present too." Said the little boy.

Lisa turned to Ralph. He was still his awkward 'special' self, so that hadn't changed much in the four weeks they'd been away.

Everyone around Lisa looked dull and tired, like they didn't want to be there. But Lisa felt full of energy and enthusiasm, she had been looking forward to this day ever since it was announced. She was ready to learn and earn her large A's, not those fake ones Mom would give her when she was feeling blue for not being in school.

Bart however was less than enthusiastic. So much so he'd taken Moms lipstick and painted chicken pocks on his face and used hot water bottles and a hair dryer to heat his face up. However, there was one little flaw in his plan he didn't bank 'd already had chicken pocks when he was four, and he didn't notice that the heat from the hair dryer and hot water bottles caused his pocks to start streaming down his face. He never noticed this when he told Mom.

He'd sulkily boarded the school bus, as always driven by Otto, who was sitting in the drivers seat with a strange lamp in his hands with a lighter under it. A bubbling noise came from the lamp object and he appeared to be breathing in the vapour coming from the spout. At first Otto didn't move off and was wondering out loud "why there were so many seats in my room?" Until someone reminded him he was driving a bus, he genuinely seemed surprised he was. Otto moved off and all seemed to go well, but Lisa's nerves were slightly on edge when Otto blurted out, "Oh look! A giant fish!" while driving on the wrong side of the road. This wasn't new, they were all used to Ottos odd behaviour. He'd been their bus driver for years and despite causing several accidents he always managed to get them to school on time, mostly.

Now Miss Hoover, a woman with shoulder length brown hair and a large pair of glasses finished the roll call, opened her draw and removed a wad of papers. "Okay, class." She said bored. "We're going to have a surprise quiz to start class."

"WOOO HOOOO!" Lisa cheered, attracting the attention of dozens of pairs of eyes which looked at her as if she had grown two heads. But she didn't care, this test gave her the opportunity to show how she could still outshine the rest in the class.

Miss Hoover walked around and passed each of them a paper to write out before coming to sit back down at her own desk with a mug of coffee and a magazine about something completely inappropriate for a school.

"You have one hour to finish this test, starting now." Miss Hoover said sitting down and opening her magazine, not even bothering to start a stop watch or anything to keep the correct time. Lisa didn't care about that though as she enthusiastically opened her paper and read the first question.

'1: What year was the declaration of independence signed?' that was an easy one. '2: Which president chopped down a cherry tree?' also easy. In fact, mostly all of these questions were easy, predictably easy. These questions were never really a challenge for her, but they did allow her to show off her own intelligence.

'31: Name the merits of being a teacher of 2nd grade' Huh? That wasn't a proper question. What's wrong with Miss Hoover? Lisa thought annoyingly as she felt a spark run through her head and her brain came up with a new thought. A better question would be '31: Using Darwin's theory of evolution explain former President Bush'

She shook her head for a moment. That was her ID again still trying to cause her trouble. For weeks she hardly heard a peep out of her inner demons except for a few times when she got a little annoyed, then a little voice in her head makes a very smart-alic remark. Lisa admitted her ID had started manifesting itself in very violent ways to start with, but after a few days she regained a greater deal of control over her own mind and a week after wearing the Mask she steadily started to calm down until she felt pretty much her old self again. Though the most her ID did now was just whisper in her ear, in a manner of speaking, but even that small affect was beginning to fade away.

'32: If the answer is 5%, what is the question?' This was another stupid question! That could be anything. 'If you have 100, what % of it is 5?' 'How much land in Springfield is used to farm?' 'In the world, how many Hillbillies have married outside their own family?' 'How many average Americans can find Iraq on a map of Iraq?' 'How many British people have straight, clean teeth?' Stop being clever! She told herself! Focus on the question!

She continued trying to find reasonable answers to these otherwise absurd questions. It was as if Miss Hoover didn't really want to teach this class at all. Several other ridicules questions came up and she could hear smart-alic remarks from deep in her mind. Like question 44: 'What was the curse of Tutankhamun?' to which her inner self replied. 'The line waiting to get into the museum to see him!' and again and again until she got to question 50.

'50: Tick the box A, B or C, to receive the grade, A, B or C.' Was Lisa reading that one right? She refused to listen to another smart remark from her ID as she ticked the A box. After that question she put down her pen and looked at the clock. Out of the hour she had to do the test she had 50 minutes left. Time which she spent going through the question paper again to make sure she had the correct answers.

"When you're finished…" said Miss Hoover, who noticed Lisa had finished and was waiting for Miss Hoover to mark her paper and give Lisa her well dissevered A. But a perplexed look crossed Lisa's face when Miss Hoover said. "...Turn your own papers over and mark them." She said as she returned to her magazine.

11:30am

Bart Simpson hated school more than anything. He had to spend several hours of his life in a building with adults and teachers talking at him. Even though they knew he wasn't paying any attention, or even cared about their job.

At least when he attacked the school, something he still had no memory of doing, he had four weeks of freedom away from this prison of his, but there had been a sting in the tail to his actions. Those four weeks had to come out of his summer vacation time, meaning he did all that for nothing. He should've gone a step further and blown up the school, he decided.

Speaking of which, he'd almost forgotten about that Mask of his. He never found it in Lisa's room no matter how many times he looked. Lisa had stolen it, he was sure, but she would've worn it again by now, wouldn't she? Who wouldn't want to have such mischief making power?

Lisa had eventually told him, when she'd calmed down after he wrecked her room, that she felt the thing was dangerous and threw it out. Bart couldn't believe what he was hearing when she said that. She threw it away?! That was three weeks ago and he now just accepted that it was lost. The best present he'd ever gotten and Lisa threw it out! He got back at her though, he filled her only pair of sandals with runny porridge.

Oh well, at least for a while he had it and felt its power and had the ability to do whatever he liked for one night.

His teacher, Mrs Krabappel, a tall woman with shoulder length, light brown hair and small bags under her eyes, was just as boring as ever. She was attempting to teach them something to do with maths, but he wasn't really listening. He knew how to add and subtract, wasn't that enough? Nothing the teacher said was catching his attention because he was more interested in his latest prank on the teachers of Springfield Elementary.

The day before he'd gone to visit Grandpa Simpson in the Springfield retirement centre. It wasn't his choice to go there, it had been Lisa's. She'd volunteered to help out at the retirement centre and he was curious to find out what Lisa was doing in there. So his brain kind of twisted his arm to make him go in.

When he went inside he was immediately swamped by a crowed of old people all wanting to talk to him, share boring war stories, or in the case of the grandmas, give him chocolates which he obliged. Anything for free chocolate.

It turned out Lisa was helping out by calling the bingo numbers out in the bingo hall and helping elderly people with their crosswords to which they gave her the attention and praise she wasn't getting at school anymore.

Disappointed at his discovery Bart decided to leave, but not before saying a quick 'hi' to Grandpa Simpson. This was so he could say to Mom he'd gone to see him already this week so she didn't drag him out to see him again for another week. But on his way out he spotted a bottle by Grandpa's bedside. It was a brown medication bottle with half the label missing, on the side was half a word 'Viag..' the rest was scrapped off, but what remained of the label described it as 'Sildenafil,' a medication to help prevent something called 'pulmonary hypertension' by 'relaxing the walls of the right ventricle of the heart'. Whatever that meant and that side effects included 'stiffness in the...' whatever was supposed to come next was missing because the rest of the label was smudged. Bart wondered if this the stuff that made old people walk all stiff and slow like they all do. Then he started to think of the possibilities he could use it for. An unmarked bottle of unknown medication with unknown side effects, he thought, the first ingredient for a perfect prank. That's when he had a very mischievous idea. He took the bottle without a second thought and just today he'd opened the bottle and poured the stuff into the teachers coffee machine with the help of Milhouse.

Now though, Bart was awaiting the effects. To watch the teachers walk like old people. But it had been an hour since Mrs K. finished her coffee and she was just as boring and slack jointed as ever. He sighed, his eyes drooping and he almost closed them in case he accidentally learnt something.

"Bart Simpson, report to the principal's office immediately!" Said Principle Skinner over the schools intercom system. Mrs. Krabappel turned to Bart and gave him a look which said she wasn't the least bit surprised. She pointed her chalk stick at the door lazily indicating for Bart to get up and go. Which he did, glad for an excuse to leave.

As he walked down the corridor towards Skinners office he was met with a very unusual sight. It was groundskeeper Willie, the Scottish groundskeeper of the school grounds. He had a main of fire, red hair with a hairy mono-brow and a beard to match. He was dressed in his usual dirty overalls, but that wasn't the odd thing about him, what was odd was the way he was walking, humped back and bent kneed.

"What happened to you?" Bart asked, curious to Willies condition.

"Willie drank some of that teachers black magic coffee!" He said in a rough Scottish accent as struggled past. "Now Willie is all stiff."

What the...? Bart thought. Willie drank that coffee he'd put Grandpa's medication in, Is that what it did to people? Make them walk like the hunchback of what's-it-called? Willie wasn't walking like an old person at all, more like someone who had just swiftly kicked him between the legs.

Bart continued to the principal's office, though he was curious why Mrs. K wasn't walking like Willie was. Standing outside a door with the words 'Principle Seymour Skinner' painted on it Bart knocked twice, opened the door and went in before Skinner told him to enter.

"You called?" Bart said inviting himself to sit down in a chair in front of Skinners desk. Bart looked very relaxed and cool, he'd gone through this so many times in his life it was almost routine. The miserable man did not look happy and as far as Bart knew he never did. He was also giving an accusing look at Bart. If there was a prank pulled anywhere on school grounds Bart was often proud to say he'd done it, even if he never did it himself.

"What did you put in Willie's drink?" Skinner asked, Bart just leaned back in his chair and reserved his right to remain silent.

"I've just been talking to Willie outside when he drank something, and..." he trained off as if searching for more appropriate words "started moving incredibly stiffly. It's obviously a prank, one which points firmly towards you, Bart Simpson." But Bart just played it innocently, and very badly innocently.

"Bart, you've got after school detention." Skinner said, almost dully since he was so used to giving him so many detentions it was routine. Detention was usually just Bart having to write out lines on a chalk board, something he was so used to now he could write out the whole blackboard in a few minutes. Bart often wondered if he broke the world record for as many detentions as one could get before turning eleven.

It wasn't until a long boring speech later that Skinner told him to get back to class. As Bart was leaving though he saw Skinner pick up what looked like a fresh, steaming cup of coffee from his desk and he took a sip. Bart just smiled a satisfied smile as he opened the door and went back into the corridor and headed back to class.

1:35 pm

Across Town

Grandpa Simpson was in the local police station complaining, because someone had stolen his medication.

"Someone stole my Viagra!" he'd screamed at the police officer on the desk. But the young whippersnapper wasn't taking him seriously. He just laughed out loud as the elderly Simpson repeated the crime again and again.

"Don't worry, sir." The officer giggled. "I'll put out an APB on a 'hardened' criminal!" He laughed again. "Can you give us any information that can 'point' us in the right direction?"

"I need it to prevent my lungs dying." Grandpa complained almost hoarsely.

"I think it's more the trouser department it's supposed to work." The officer laughed. "But I think we'll be a bit 'hard' pressed to find people to take this case"

6:30pm

"…and that's how the French created prostitution." Said Kent Brockman as he shuffled through his papers again, but Lisa wasn't paying attention. She was too busy studying as always since the schooling at Springfield Elementary was so terrible. The rest of the day had been taken up with nonsense and quizzes. The only time Miss Hoover got close to anything like teaching it was telling them to read chapters four and five out of their text books for the next hour. Lisa didn't mind this of course, she'd already read the book cover to cover and absorbed every word of it. But she could tell all the others were obviously bored out of their skulls.

Miss Hoover then left mysteriously for a couple of hours and left Ralph Wiggum in charge. How could she leave Ralph in charge? He didn't know anything. The first thing he tried to teach them was where boogers came from, the next thing he taught was where did babies come from and he went on to describe a strange version of it where he said the Stork picks babies off a magic tree in heaven then delivers them to families.

Lisa, as ever, tried to challenge his logic and say 'then where do baby storks come from?' To which Ralph just looked blankly as if considering his answer before saying 'I pooped in my daddies slippers.'

She decided to ignore Ralph and work on some math problems by herself, but Ralph spotted her doing this, picked up her work, claimed she wasn't paying attention and issued her 'a detention that would last forever and ever!' Something which would never stick anyway. Ralph then gave Jason in class a detention for breathing in and out too slowly, despite Jason having asthma. Lisa never thought she'd think this, but she was glad to be home, at least here she could study, learn and teach herself. She sat on the couch next to her dad in the TV room and half listened to the news to hear what was plaguing the world.

"Now for news much closer to home." Kent Brockman continued. "The failed demolition of Springfield forest four weeks ago has been given the green light to try again thanks to a cash injection from Montgomery Burns."

"What!" Lisa almost shouted and nearly dropped her very thick book about Shakespeare.

"The last time the forest was due for demolition the mischievous, masked, Green Face intervened and scared the workforce away while wrecking the machinery. The site manager, lumberjack Derek Vercetti was released from Springfield Hospital after recovering from his traumatic encounter with Green Face, and has agreed to go ahead with the demolition of the forest on one condition however, that they be accompanied by a priest."

"How could they do that?" Lisa said. "You mean I went through all that and they're still going to go ahead!"

"That's the trouble fighting big business, Lisa" Homer said half bored, "they're big."

Lisa ignored Homers comment. Knowing she'd saved the forest was the only thing which made her feel wearing the Mask was worth any effort. Even if it did mean her suffering her ID banging on her mind for a week. Now it turned out all she did was postponed it, they were going to go ahead and demolish the forest anyway. She scooped her book back up under her arm, got to her feet and walked away stamping her feet on the floor, leaving Homer with the TV.

Homer picked up the remote for the TV and began flipping through the channels looking for something else to watch. He only seemed to catch a few sentences of one program before flipping over to the next one.

~"This is an appeal for lost or abandoned dogs everywhere, if you find a lost dog call us, we're… ~ …The china hut! We provide quality food, you'll enjoy our service so much you'll… ~ …play with yourself for hours and hours, that's right it's the new Nintendo DS. Play as Mario in his newest adventure where he has the…~ …runs! He's got the ball ladies and gentlemen! He's past the first mark the second marker, oh my god what an enormous tackle... ~ …I wish mine was like that. But it is difficult to get a quality jag these days... ~ … and it was here, on this very spot in Waterloo, while watching the English charge towards him, that Napoleon Bonaparte… ~ …crapped himself."

Homer continued to flip through the channels. Though the transitions made the words between two programs or adverts make a sort of sense they didn't seem to register in his mind as he continued to flip through them.

"You want the truth? You can't handle the truth!...~ …This is the Fox news Channel!~…you won't believe you're eyes!...~…because it's all a fiction. Well, don't you see? They made it all up to throw us off the scent, the real killer is…~…Jesus! How could you do this to me, Martha! You ran off with the kids and you…~…sold them to…~… Indian restaurants" ~ "You know there's something funny about this stake, it tastes like…~…dung. The texture of this mound 'ere, see how moist it is? Shows that this little angry crock 'ere…~… eats at Krusty Burger for free!"

"Borrrring!" Homer said, and he placed the remote down on the couch, got up and walked out of the TV room and into the kitchen. From the other side of the room the family dog, Santa's little helper came into the room, sniffed at the remote momentarily before biting down on it and began chewing causing the channels to flip rapidly.

"Today we're discussing the rather controversial subject of 'creationism', factor or fiction?...~…fiction! Good night"

Lisa stamped into her bedroom, practically slammed the door and threw the book onto her bed. How could they just uproot and destroy an entire forest so mercilessly? Corporations didn't care about the environment or the people they served, she'd learnt that at an early age. The only thing they cared about was making money, no matter what gets in their way. Burns was a multi-billionaire, why couldn't he just be content with the money he's got and leave the rest of the world alone?

People like Burns never listened to what people say, especially when the phrase 'killing the planet' comes into it. Burns and people like him didn't care that what they're doing might kill the planet in the future, because by that time they'd be dead and buried. They'll just brush their problems under the carpet and let the future generations like her deal with it. Only problem with that was the next generation would be no better, and just pass it onto the next person like someone with a time bomb frantically passing it from person to person until the day it goes off and ends everything. Their ignorance at the harm they were doing just made her angry.

But dad was right, she can't possibly fight big corporations like that. They get experts fighting them like Green Peace and Friends of the Earth and they manage to do nothing but irritate corporations slightly, not stop them. But Lisa was not only alone in this town when it came do defending the environment, she was also only eight, who's going to take a little eight year old girl seriously? Whenever she tried to make a case to big corporations they sent guards to throw her out of the building, and when she tried to preach the truth to the people on the street they didn't take her seriously, instead they just patronised her, and some just said how cute she was trying to 'fight the power with intelligent reasonable arguments before the power easily silenced her intelligence reasonable argument by sticking their fingers in their ears.'

She was surrounded by idiots who didn't want to hear the truth. Humans evolved on this planet, so we should take better care of it, Lisa thought, trashing the planet was like trashing your own room and house, what idiot did that?... What was she thinking, Bart trashes his own room and he 'is' an idiot.

If only there was something she could do to finally get people to leave the environment alone. At least in Springfield. If there was anything she could do to help the environment and the endangered animals she'd gladly help out.

Lisa's eyes momentarily fell on the spot below her computer desk where the Mask still resided. She never had a chance to dispose of it safely because she found it difficult to bring Homers tools up from the garage and to her room because Mom was always in the kitchen, and would get suspicious. Lisa couldn't bring the Mask down to the tools because Mom, or worse Bart, might catch her with it. So she just left it in its hiding place. There was no way someone would have a reason to look under the floorboards under her desk for anything, never mind a magic mask. But then a thought crossed her mind. She wanted to prevent the destruction of the forest again once and for all, it had worked before with the Mask and she did have some small degree of control over herself. If she only wore it for a short time, perhaps if she were to just...

But she stopped herself in mid thought. Hands on the desk ready to move it and retrieve the Mask. "Nahh!" she said finally letting go of the desk and pushed the thought out of her head.

"Looking good boys!" Said Wiggum observing the heavy machinery and bulldozers as they were moving into Springfield forest, onto the site where four weeks ago Green Face attacked.

"Hey Chief, are you sure this is a good idea?" Lou asked as he watched another truck rumble past. "I mean, Green Face is a nasty piece of work, do you really want to annoy him?"

"Don't worry Lou, I saw this plan work on Columbo." He said. "If Green Face is concerned about the environment then he should show up to stop its destruction for a second time. Just make sure backup is ready."

"Yeah, but Chief, errm" Lou scratched the back of his head.

"What is it Lou? Are you afraid of a man in a mask?" Wiggum said in a mocking tone. He placed his hands on the cheeks of his face and adopted a mock horrified look to his face.

"Oh yeah, and what did you do when Eddie came to the Halloween party last year dressed like Freddy Kruger?"

"Hey, HEY! I thought we weren't going to mention that again!" They both fell silent. That was one embarrassing moment for Wiggum, when Eddie brandished those razor claws at him, role-playing as the nightmare hopping demon. It was also an expensive financial moment, because Wiggum couldn't get the return deposit on his own Jack Sparrow costume. Those stains were difficult to remove from the trousers.

"Say chief." Lou asked again trying to make polite conversation. "Won't your wife be mad staying out all night again on a stakeout?" Chief Wiggum sighed a large sigh.

"No, no, she's still angry about last week." He said.

"What happened?"

"She came into the bedroom in a new dress she bought and said, 'Clancy, does this dress make me look fat.'" He tried to adopt the softer tone of his wife's voice as he quoted her.

"You... didn't say it did, did you?"

"Of course not, what kind of idiot do you take me for!" Wiggum almost shouted at his partner.

"Whoa, whoa, chief calm down." Lou held up his hands to show he meant no offence at all. "So what did you say?"

"I said..." he mimicked the voice he used when he said this to her. Innocent and sweet with a hint of seduction about it "'of course it doesn't make you look fat, dear. It's just all those donuts that make you look fat.'"

To Be Continued...

Authors notes: Just a little set up for what's coming next.

I was considering cutting the whole gag with the Viagra because I didn't know if it would make the story fall outside its current rating. But since I only mentioned very vaguely what it does and since I didn't go into detail about the main effects I let it stay in. I also tried to be a subtle as I could about it.

If it requires an upgrade in its rating, tell me and I'll move it up. Or alternatively I'll just cut the whole gag.