Author's Note: Once again, I'm going to be gone for a while. Sorry if this chapter offends any communists, anarchists, or any members of the Democratic Party.

By noon, our heroes and the greasers found that they were pretty hungry.

"I'm pretty hungry. Let's go into town," said Reece.

"While that bears a striking similitude to a plot device, I agree. Unfortunately for us, we've been sentenced to death three times in town and there isn't any food in the forest. Also, we can't forget that we'd most likely be mind-raped by Plan Delta as soon as we stepped on Veronan soil."

"The effects of Plan Delta can't be that bad," reasoned Reece, "After all, Tybalt was subjected to it, and he seems sane enough."

Tybalt, who had been fantasizing about killing all Montagues in increasingly horrendously painful ways said, "Yeah, I'm perfectly sane."

"Plan Delta shouldn't be much of a problem," piped Blake, "I shut it down by using Pip's wireless Internet for my own sick and twisted purposes."

"I beg your pardon?" asked Taesup and Ponyboy in tandem.

"Never mind, just buy stock in Microsoft when you get to your own universe."

"And people accuse me of coming up with plot devices," whined Reece, "Blake just shut down Pip's doomsday plan of apocalyptic fury with a quick stroke of the mouse. Plan Delta has been an ominous shadow over us for the past couple of chapters. We have absolutely no reason to take Pip seriously now. This is terrible! Every story needs a villain. Without Darth Vader, no Star Wars. Without the Wicked Witch of the West, no Wizard of Oz. Villains are part of our everyday lives. Napoleon. Jesse James. Bill Clinton!" The sheer mental strain of the ordeal caused him to go get fabulously drunk with Mercutio.

"It just occurred to me that I have absolutely no idea what you guys are talking about half of the time," muttered Oberon.

"That's okay, dear, you are most likely clueless because they are from a different dimension… and you're an idiot," answered his wife.

This seemed like a reasonable proposition and many nodded in agreement. When the nodding was quite finished, Stephanie said, "So, about that food."

Leaving their Athenian and Oklahoman friends in the forest, the students, Tybalt, Juliet, Mercutio, and Romeo returned to Verona to be assaulted with a sight more bizarre than they would have liked. All around the streets, instead of nobles and other rich people eating and drinking and having a generally good time, there were farm animals eating, drinking in excess, and having a generally good time. A morbidly obese pig who identified himself as Squealer while walking forward precariously on two legs addressed the group, "Do you love Comrade Napoleon?"

"Huh?" said Chris.

"By law, you have to say you love Comrade Napoleon or we rip you limb from limb, but do you really, truly love him?"

"I guess…"

"Oh, good. Human, you and your comrades are now the bottom rung in our new, classless society of animalists. A few key phrases you must learn are: 'Four legs good, two legs better' and 'All animals are equal but some are more equal than others'. That should get you pretty far. I'm going to sleep in a bed with sheets. Have a nice day."

"So, we're anarchists now?"

"No, animalists."

"An-i… Anarchists."

By this point, Squealer was pretty steamed. He briefly considered smashing Chris into a wall, head butting him in the gut before setting him on fire while ripping him limb from limb and eating the remains, but then he considered Leader Napoleon's newest policy: With enough time and torture, all humans can see the light. He said, "It seems to me that you and your comrades need reeducating. Come with me to our new Really Big Fortress of Love."

While there was some initial refusal, Squealer was finally able to convince them to go.

"We still didn't get any food," lamented Stephanie.

Author's Note: This felt like a really weird chapter. I think it is because two of my three 'straight' characters, Chris, Stephanie, and Pat R. descended into the same insanity their friends are caught in. Also, I'm know I'm making the pigs more like the society in George Orwell's other story, 1984. It just seems like the logical place Manor Farm was headed.