With an overnight bag packed, Lisa bounded down the stairs after hearing a honk from the front of the house. Bart and Terri dashed the door without so much as a goodbye, but maintaining her role as the favorite child, Lisa made sure to tell both Marge and Homer where she was going and when she would be back. Once the schedule was imparted, she left to join the freaks, wondering how six people could fit inside the beat-up Chevalla. The question was answered when the beater was nowhere to be found; in its place was a 1979 Volkswagen Type 2 minibus. Idling at the side of the road, its coat of cerulean blue paint was cracked and flaking, suggesting the vehicle had only been recently restored.

As Lisa approached, she also saw a few blotches of white clouds on the sliding door. A little detail, but a surprising one, since she would have expected flames or rainbows instead. Impressed, Bart whistled as Nelson joined him. "Got the old girl working, huh?"

Having been working as an apprentice at Junior's Garage, the local car mechanic, Nelson had become quite the gearhead once he found his passion for grease and motors. Slapping the roof, he replied, "Got super lucky. Boss managed to find an engine that fit." Seeing Lisa, he gave a quick wave. "S'up Lise. You coming too?"

Terri appeared from around their car, butting in before Lisa could speak, "Brain thinks we are a bunch of idiots who get high in the woods." She opened the sliding door to the bus with a jerk of her hands. Sherri and Jessica were already inside. The latter lay against the former as they were both sitting on the floor behind the driver's side seat, despite there being a proper backseat at the other end. Though, much of the space was covered in three packed bags, a telescope case, and four whole cameras.

Sherri held up her hands. "Terri!" She smiled as her sister climbed in. "We're officially the mystery gang!"

Terri crossed her legs, sitting across from them to the left of the door. She shifted, so the sun wasn't directly in her eyes. "More like those dumbasses in Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Can't wait to break down in the middle of nowhere."

"Hey, you know how it goes. The murder cannibals eat the boys first," Sherri said, way too enthusiastic at the prospect. "Then we just gotta run away. Bonus points when a rogue tree branch tears our shirts off."

Amused, Terri's lips curled upward. "It is a scientific fact that less clothes make the final girl run faster."

Interested in the notion, Jessica raised an eyebrow. "Is it now? I think we will need to test this theory." She smoothly moved her girlfriend's hand, allowing her to cup a breast. "Once we get to the lake, I suggest we all strip and see who runs faster."

Sherri rolled her eyes. "Hush. It only works if a murderer is chasing you." Looking back at her sister, she giggled. "You should have heard what Jess told her mom we're doing."

Jessica feigned ignorance. "I told Helen the truth." She slapped the side of the bus, the metal banging loudly. "We are gonna relive the 70s. Smoke a bunch of dope, have premartial sex every hour, and at some point, put on the Grateful Dead."

Sherri sniggered, having enjoyed the mortified face of Mrs. Lovejoy. "She might have actually had a heart attack, babe." She stuck her tongue out. "Even she knows the Grateful Dead blows."

"Dad, rock might mellow us out," Terri offered. "Maybe the deadheads know something we don't."

"Nothing will mellow us out more than snapping a picture of a real black triangle," Sherri said, reaching to grab a cardboard chart that was leaning next to her. Holding onto the top with her non-occupied hand, she tapped the first of several black and white grainy pictures. The flying saucer was the standard affair, hovering near a farmhouse. "We are going to have plenty of time to review on the way up."

Jessica craned her head to the side to get a look. "God, you know I find it so sexy when you talk about little green men."

"Grey," Terri corrected. "Like on The X-Files."

"Even better. Throw on a purple wig, and they will be my type," Jessica said, having spent far too many nights not paying attention to the iconic show as the twins fawned over the relationships of the leads.

Sherri gasped. "I am not that pasty!"

Jessica looked over, poking her girlfriend's cheek. "Love, you are whiter than talcum powder." She started to grin. "Let's go tanning when we get back."

The idea caused Sherri to recoil in horror. "Are you trying to eat me!? Cause I will burn!"

"I'd be down to try a taste of Mackleberry cake." Jessica winked, prompting Sherri to respond by giving her a well-deserved flick on the nose.

"Get me a picture of a little grey man and you can have more than a taste."

Terri gagged, putting her hand over her mouth. Seeing the band-aid, Jessica said, "Oh right, today was your first lesson. How'd it go?

Filling them in on her experience, Terri recounted her harrowing tale of almost face-planting. While at the front of the bus, Lisa was staring at the engine as Nelson excitedly explained its internals. "Got this old-ass thing from Mexico. Diesel. I can push it to seventy miles on the interstate."

Matching his sister's equally blank expression, Bart leaned closer to get a better look while feigning interest. "Hmm. Yes, I see, Meyerhoff lifters. Very nice."

"Once again, those are not real, and this is the transmission. It was a complete bitch to find one that fit." Nelson corrected, proud of getting the antique running. "The way I figure it, aliens prefer abductees that travel in style."

"I imagine they probe the driver first, too," Bart said, clearly proud of this assessment as he patted his friend on the shoulder. He left, not able to take another in-depth explanation of how a corroborator worked.

Nelson shut the hood with a loud clunk. "I'm surprised, Lise. Didn't expect you to be joining our merry band of idiots."

"Eh, It's been awhile since I've seen the lake," Lisa said, sizing up the vehicle. She was low-key impressed by his ability to get something like it running. "Figured it would be nice to get away for a few days."

Nodding, Nelson walked to the driver's side door. Trying to come off cool, he said, "I gotcha." He rested an arm on the roof of the car and smirked. "What, not excited about staring at lights in the sky?"

"Lights in the sky? Sure, stargazing can be fun." She said, maintaining her cold demeanor. "I just do not expect to see some spaceship."

"Well, I wouldn't rule it out," He said cryptically. Adding with a shrug. "And if we do not see anything, at least we got plenty of pot."

"Hmm. I am sure that will help your case if you do see anything," Lisa muttered dryly, choosing to get into the passenger seat upfront with him. Using her foot, she created some space between multiple cassette tapes of a variety of metal bands.

Reaching over, Nelson picked up two. "My bad. I crashed here last night."

He tossed them back, hitting Sherri in the side of her head, who exclaimed, "Ow!"

Bart snickered as she rubbed where the sharp corner connected. "Guess it's time to get this show on the road."

Terri slammed shut the sliding door as Nelson started the engine, causing the exhaust to sputter black smoke. He turned to face the rest of his friends. "Now guys, remember, we have guests. Let's try to be normal."

"Hey, Lise wanted to come. She should try being less boring," Terri retorted, running her hand across the grey, carpeted flooring. It was smooth, probably the last addition to the cabin.

Sherri slid off her girlfriend briefly, reaching underneath her turtleneck and unclasping her bra. "Might as well get comfortable." She tossed it onto her bag and breathed a sigh of relief. "That's better."

Before proceeding to switch places, she could rest her head on Jessica's shoulder instead; who, out of the corner of her eye, noticed the disgusted look on Lisa's face. "What? I thought you cared about what women could do with their bodies."

Nelson pulled the car onto the road while Lisa pinched her nose. "I do, fruit loops. But you should know there is nothing impressive about pandering so brazenly to the male gaze."

"Who says I care what men think?" Sherri scoffed icily. She jerked her chin toward Bart. "There is only one pair of boobs he cares about."

"Yeah, my own," Bart laughed, playfully trying to cop a feel of his boobs. "What do you think, babe? They are getting a bit flabby. Should I get a reduction?"

Terri squeezed his right peck, and said, "You know I like your moobs as is." She giggled, looking over at the front of the car. "Seriously, Lisa. Lighten up. It's gonna be a long trip."

"I will do my best," Lisa mumbled, unable to shake the feeling she had made a terrible mistake coming along for the ride. She put her bag underneath the glove compartment.

Recognizing her discomfort, Nelson waved a hand dismissively. "They're bitches. Don't let them get to you. Harmless dogs always bark the loudest."

"No reason to be so rude," Sherri and Terri huffed in protest.

Nelson gave an annoyed grunt. They passed the statute of Springfield's founder, Jebediah. He turned on the radio, and upon finding nothing good on, pushed in a cassette tape.

The first leg of the trip was uneventful, with Lisa mostly making small talk with Nelson while listening to the album Scumdogs of the Universe. It was not her cup of tea, but he certainly made a show of headbanging as they crossed the bridge, which connected the town to its western half.

In the back, a fervent game of punch buggy was instigated when Bart belted out Punch Buggy Blue! And punched Terri's arm, who quickly answered in kind, spotting an orange one at a light. Sherri and Jessica had discovered a Playdude magazine under the driver's seat. Enraptured, they were appreciating the interviews with the models. Laughing secretly among themselves, the chittering Nelson to say, "Please don't tear that. It's an antique."

"I bet. Look at this one's hair," Jessica said, pointing to Miss November's 1950s style beehive. "Whaddaya think, love? Could I make it work?"

"With enough glue. Sure, I don't see why not." Sherri said, running her fingers through the fine black hair in question; "You'd look a lot like Mrs. Simpson."

Jessica promptly shuddered at the idea. "On second thought. How about I don't."

Rubbing his arm in a bid to get some feeling back, Bart teased, "Can't wait until you go as grey as your mom."

"Not before you go as bald as your dad," was her retort. The mental image caused Bart to scream in a terror so genuine it caused the rest of the group to break into laughter.

Terri ran a hand through his hair. "Do not worry. All the women in our family end up melting into pudding by thirty."

Bart tried to picture her more mushed down. It ultimately constructed an image of her mother. He snorted. "That is cool, though. Mrs. Jerri is super hot."

The twins were taken aback by the assessment. "What!?"

"She is really cute," Jessica said, pursing her lips thoughtfully; "I love her eyeshadow."

"Your mom is like a dead inside librarian," Nelson said, looking back through the rearview mirror at them. "Tough on the outside, oh so sweet on the inside." Lisa made a face, causing him to shrug.

Sherri raised a hand, then slowly lowered it. "Seriously, what is wrong with you guys?"

"Daddy issues for sure," Jessica said.

"Hey, as it turns out, daddy issues," Nelson answered.

"At the risk of sounding like a broken record... daddy issues," Bart concluded jokingly. Although he may have just developed a type for pale women with outrageously colored hair.

Terri cocked her head to the right. "Well, at least there is a consistent theme."

Lisa listened to them laugh again, holding lightly onto a notebook, trying to pretend she was studying. An impossible task given the absurdity of the conversation. Which became even more ridiculous when it shifted into the serious as Sherri brought up her UFO board. "Alright. Since we have time, let's review."

She pointed to the first style of an unidentified flying object in the top right. The standard flying saucer. Terri spoke up enthusiastically. "Normal sightings are the Reticulans, also known as Greys. Though, according to some testimonies, a species with green skin and tentacles has also been seen exiting similar ships."

Next was a silvery cigar-shaped craft hovering over the ocean, and Jessica said, "Those are rare. No documentation of landings or contact ever being made. At best, we can guess they are an observational vehicle."

Her finger drifted to a smaller ship that looked like a tic-tac with four pronged legs. A red triangle was drawn on the front of its ovular face. "Oh, I know this one!" Nelson said briefly, taking his eyes off the road. "The Lonnie Zamora Incident! A police officer claimed to see the craft land after a car chase."

"Oh, you can't really believe that," Lisa interjected, exhausted from the pseudo-scientific discussion.

"Up-up! Remember our agreement." Bart was quick to object, causing her to return to her passive-aggressive grumbling about their collective stupidity. He turned back to the board. "What about black triangles? That is what the article mentioned."

In the bottom left corner of the cardboard was the photograph from the magazine, and Sherri finally put it down. "Arguably the most universal sighting across the world. Often described as a completely noiseless craft that hovers in the air."

"Two recent examples were the Belgian sightings in 89 and in Phoenix." Terri continued shifting so she could lie against Bart. "Some observers claimed to see these silent triangles in the sky or simply the outlines punctuated by red lights at each point of the craft. Then after a few hours," she snapped her fingers for emphasis. "Vanished without a trace."

Lisa could not stop herself, and started to cackle, causing the rest of the bus to fall silent. Sherri made an annoyed expression. "What is it now, brain?"

Turning to face them, Lisa caught her breath. "You guys can't be serious… You are actually going to the lake on a mystical quest to find UFOs."

"Yep, that about sums it up." Bart answered, nodding his head a few times. "Now sure, it's not as interesting as shapeshifting mutants or sentient toasters, but we do a public service. Someone has to investigate the weird."

"Good God! You are all huge nerds!" Lisa exclaimed, clutching her sides, finding the whole thing beyond hilarious. "People at school think you freaks are cool delinquents!"

Nelson glanced at her. "Wait, do you not think we are cool?" He jerked a thumb back at the rest. "Trust me, these guys are the coolest."

"Thanks, dad." Jessica gave a finger gun in his direction. "I can't wait for our trip to Mount Splashmore."

Ignoring them, Terri poked her head up and smiled as she saw a red beetle driving alongside them. Promptly, she turned, slugging her boyfriend. "Punch buggy red!"

"Ugh…" Bart groaned, having thought the game was over. He flopped onto his side. "Now you have done it. My arm is gonna fall off."

Terri giggled sweetly. "Don't be such a baby. If it does, I will staple it back on."

They were on the interstate now, heading toward the Carter-Nixon tunnel, which cut through the mountain range that separated the outskirts of the town from the badlands. Towering purple-toned, snow-capped peaks soared into the sky, separating the green grass from the barren desert. On the approach, Nelson punched the roof, shouting, "Tunnel!"

What followed was an enthusiastic chanting of the word as they passed into darkness, greeted on the other side by a blindingly bright glare. As the Volkswagen emerged, Nelson had to put his foot on the brake, to slow down due to a car pulling off onto the side of the road, its hazards on. In doing so, several books slid from underneath Lisa's seat, hitting the back of her feet. Instantly she recognized the light blue leatheroleum cover and fonts. Retrospecticus was the title of their ancient fourth-grade yearbook, featuring a white print of the school. Raising an eyebrow, she reached for it. "This thing is ancient." There were three others from the middle school as well.

"Whoa, totally forgot I had those in here," Nelson said, speeding up again. He lowered the volume of the music.

Sherri climbed up to see what Lisa was holding. "I always knew Nelly was the sentimental one."

"Damn straight. Those memories are forever," He said.

"Uh… Not if I smoke more," Bart retorted, crawling over to get a look as well.

Without him as support, Terri slumped onto the floor. "God, why on Earth would you want to remember middle school?"

Bart gave Sherri a knowing look and leaned over his sister. "Oh … There is one reason. You guys wanna see something funny?"

Realizing his intentions, Terri shot up scrambling to stop him. "No! Have mercy!" But it was too late. Jessica grabbed hold of her waist and the two struggled. "It's embarrassing!"

Scooping up each of their middle school books, his sister flipped through their elementary school. Carefully, Bart ordered them vertically, starting with the sixth grade. "We got plenty of time… Let's take a little trip down memory lane."

"No! You monster!" Terri fought valiantly, attempting to push Jessica off of her, who was laughing maniacally.

"Check this out, sis." Bart snapped his finger to get Lisa's attention, who turned all the way around in her seat to look down at what he was doing. "Middle school was hell, but at least one good thing came out of it." He flipped the M's of each respective grade, where at the top row of each page were the Mackleberry twins.

The progression of Sherri and Terri was quite something. Starting true to being identical twins in the sixth grade, they both were almost perfect copies of each other. Pink turtlenecks and skirts, styles of hair complete with adorable little bows. There was just one difference in the first set: while Sherri was beaming for a photograph, Terri wore a deep scowl on her face like she was one second away from attempted murder.

Then came the most dramatic shift. The seventh-grade photos showed Sherri still looking about the same, smiling with her perfectly straight teeth. While Terri slouched, red zits were visible on her cheeks, her purple hair was shaggy, with bangs growing far past her eyes. Ending just above her distinctive flat nose, where a fake nose ring was attached. Most notably, though, was that the bow was gone and in its place was a black wool beanie. Jessica snickered at this transformation. "You can tell that was the exact moment she decided to disappoint her parents by dating you."

"Please…" Terri protested weakly, still held in place. "I got smacked by my growth spurt early. It's embarrassing." By eighth grade, her slouch was so pronounced that she looked almost skeletal with her goth makeup. "EEEEEK! Stop this!"

Bart finally gave her a break. "Come on babe, I just wanted everyone to see how cute you became."

Jessica freed Terri, who tackled him, slapping at his arm with both hands. "Do someone else! It's not funny!"

"Can't do me. I was in juvie," Nelson said quickly, to avoid being next on the block.

"And I always looked gorgeous," Jessica said confidently. She also was two years late to the party.

Perplexed, Lisa looked at each of them. There was one question on her mind. "Wait… So when did this," she gestured vaguely at each freak, "Get started?"

She knew Sherri and Terri had not been exactly friends with her brother before high school; the same went for Nelson and Jessica. She hated to admit she was a little curious. Nelson tapped the steering wheel. "Now there is a story."

Taking the yearbooks, Sherri cooed. "Oh, can I tell this one!?" Everyone nodded, and she flipped the seventh-grade yearbook to the middle. Specifically, it was a section titled: Faces of Detention by none other than Martin Prince. Doing her best poetic voice, she began. "Middle School, as I am sure we can all agree, sucked."

Lisa listened intently, staring at the picture of her brother sitting in the back row of a classroom, his feet kicked onto the desk.

Puberty hit Bart like a truck. A wave of cystic acne overtook his greasy face, and his voice cracked like a vase on the Simpson family's kitchen table. Though that didn't stop him from his prankster ways. Thumb tacks on the teacher's seat, loosening every screw in a classroom, and cherry bombs in the lavatory were all very popular with his classmates. However, on that fateful day, it had been a well-placed water balloon filled with green paint that had landed him in detention. The standard affair when it came to classrooms, with several desks lined up facing a blackboard, where under normal circumstances a teacher would drone on endlessly to the blank stares of glassy-eyed students.

Presently Bart was the sole person in the room, pretty relieved he was no longer required to stand at the chalkboard writing about whatever crime landed him there in the first place. Instead, he was enjoying the hours staring at the ceiling, choosing to not think about what he did out of spite. Occasionally, when his mind wandered, he would load a pencil into a rubber band, stretch it back, and fire at the ceiling tiles above his head. Ten so far were embedded in a semicircle, and to cap it off, he loaded a pen he borrowed from Milhouse, taking aim. He let it fly with a thunk. As it flew toward its destination, the door to the room opened and one of the Mackleberry twins stormed inside.

A bit dense, he did not know which twin it was at the time. Bart watched curiously as the girl slammed down into a desk near the front of the room and roughly dropped her bag onto the floor. Then groaned, her head thudding onto the table. Quite the entrance and Bart waited until the coach, who was supposed to be monitoring these unfortunate prisoners, left the room. Then Bart deftly crept up to the seat behind her.

Normally, it was the twins who antagonized his unfortunate soul, but this time, the shoe was on the other foot. Obnoxiously, Bart prodded her back with the eraser of his pencil. "Hey… What is a goody two-shoes like you doing in here?" No response, so he continued to poke. "Hey… Hey…"

Eventually, Terri couldn't ignore him, and spun around, shooting him a glare. "Can you not!?" She grabbed the pencil, and he recoiled horrified, sinking lower into his seat. Realizing it was her crush, of all potential people, she scrambled to soften her reaction. "I…" She gave a short wave. "Hey, Bart." Tugging on a lock of hair, she mumbled, "Now is really not a good time."

Out of the question, since Bart was not the kind of person to leave any stone unturned. Specifically, because she was so uncharacteristically miserable for such a creepy girl. Prodding her underneath the shoulder blade again, he said, "Ah, come on, Sherri. Detention ain't so bad. You only got like two more hours in the cage."

"Sherri?" Terri repeated aloud, barely above a whisper, as her heart sank deep into her stomach. With shaky hands, she swallowed the lump in her throat. "Right… Of course." An intense burst of anger followed, and she jerked toward him again. "It's Terri, ass! T-E-R-R-I! God, why can't anyone tell us apart!?"

This outburst caused Bart to find himself sunk into his seat again underneath her enraged gaze. "Whoa. Don't have a cow, man. Yeesh… It's like you forget you have an identical twin, or—"

"No! Do not act like we are the same!" Terri cried hopelessly, slapping his pencil away. At her wit's end, she rolled up her left sleeve. "Here! I can prove I am Terri!" She shoved her pale wrist into his face. "Take a good look!"

His eyes widened as they focused on the distinct parallel scars that climbed all the way to the crook of her elbow. Everyone had problems and different kinds of wounds. Physical, emotional, and in plenty of cases both. Bart may not have been that bright, but he was certainly not heartless, as many of his peers assumed. He could empathize with anyone whose inner turmoil caused self-destructive behavior. The marks on her wrist were enough to prompt an instant twinge of guilt, a feeling made far worse when he saw the tears forming in her eyes. "Crap. I didn't mean it like that…"

Terri pulled her sleeve back down, wiping her face on the fabric. "Well, now you know how to tell us apart. I'm the discount, Sherri. The vestigial, Sherri. The boring Sherri." She went on for nearly five minutes, attaching different adjectives in front of her sister's name. Bart was going to interrupt, but then she rotated and placed her forehead on the table. "Don't even have to turn in the right paper to get my sister's grade…" she choked weakly, placing both hands on the top of her head. "Leave me alone, Bart. I can't deal with you right now." She proceeded to rub erratically until her hair was a frizzy mess.

It was obvious even to a dumbo like Bart that she was distraught and, despite her demand, he lingered. Oddly enough, he hated seeing his former harasser so upset. Tapping his foot, he thought about what to do, eventually deciding that what she needed was a change of scenery. Standing, he came to her side. Choosing not to touch her shoulder, he said, "You know what? Let's blow this popsicle stand."

At first, she remained motionless, then faced him. "Why?"

"Cause you feel like shit. We can go to the arcade and get some fresh air." When she kept staring, Bart walked to his backpack. "Trust me, this place isn't gonna make you feel any better." Able to tell Terri was not quite convinced, he tried his best to sound sincere. "No jokes. I don't like making girls cry." Going to the window, he made a dramatic show of the baffling fact there was no glass pane by sticking his hand outside. "See, it's easy to leave these days. It's been like this since the beginning of the year."

Terri peeled her cheek from the desk, not quite convinced. Although her heart was throbbing at the gesture. "What if we get caught?" She was only beginning to take her first steps toward being a rebellious burnout.

"We can sneak out tomorrow, too. Trust me, they are too broke to fix it."

She remained stationary, unable to work past her anxiety about going along with the boy she liked. Terri shook her head. "No… I can't."

Bart wasn't entirely sure of her damage and shrugged. "Okay, suit yourself." He smirked. "Though… I'd bet my left nut, Sherri would never dare to cut early."

Terri was on her feet in an instant, backpack in hand. "Screw you." She shoved him out of the window; luckily they were on the first floor and he hit the dirt. Climbing after him, she said. "If we get caught, I am saying you forced me."

"But you got like two inches on me," Bart snorted, fully aware he was on the short side compared to other boys at their age. She responded by thumping his ear. "Ow!

"I know I am ugly," Terri huffed as they crept behind the school. "No reason to rub it in." At the edge of the concrete playground was a chain-link fence separating the property from the road.

Where Bart revealed, there was a cut segment that could easily be pulled to the side, allowing an escape from the glorified penitentiary. "Alright bigfoot, try to not smack your head."

Terri grumbled a couple of choice words under her breath. Cursed with the eternal suffering brought on by an ill-timed growth spurt, her newfound gangly limbs were difficult to get used to. As such, horrible bouts of clumsiness were inevitable, so despite the warning, she still scraped the top of her scalp. "Ack!"

"Oops. Careful, bean sprout." Bart snickered as she kicked backward, catching him in the shin. Free from their prison, they quickly sprinted across the street ending up behind Moe's Tavern, where a pink Plymouth was parked in front of the dilapidated building."Huh… Guess Homer didn't feel like working today."

Terri grunted, crossing her arms tightly. Part of her was pissed she had taken his bait so easily, regardless that the fresh air was relaxing. However, such annoyance slowly dissipated as a different discomforting fact dawned on her. She was alone. Alone with her crush, after years of dreaming about the possibility. His outgoing nature and ability to steal the spotlight were a subject of intense admiration from a girl like her who felt invisible. Hoping to not waste the opportunity, Terri kept stealing glances, finally blurting out. "Do you skip a lot?"

She visibly cringed. What a dumb question. She knew perfectly well he did. Aloof Bart put his hands behind his head. "You kiddin'? Any chance I get." He chuckled to himself. "I got detention for the rest of the year or something… Good thing they ain't fixed that window yet." He eyeballed her. "So what were you in for, Sh- I mean, Terri. Slobber on some poor bastard's cheek or make some girl cry?"

"Nuh-uh. We don't do that anymore." Terri said, rubbing her upper arm. Bullying younger girls had lost some appeal when the twins found themselves no longer at the top of the pecking order. She sighed. "I yelled at Mrs. Kramer…"

"That'll do it."

"I just… She's been calling me Sherri the whole year." Terri explained, coming to terms with the fact she had what amounted to a public breakdown. Not like there was much left of her social life. "You have any idea how exhausting it is? To spend every single day being confused for someone else?"

Bart thought about it briefly as several cars sped ahead of them. "Hmm... I suppose…" He shook his head. "Nope. Everyone knows who I am."

"Our own homegrown Dennis the menace," Terri commented cheekily. Mischievous as usual, she leaned over. "Guess you won't mind if I start calling you Lisa, eh Lise?"

"Yuck. Please don't."

"Ah come on, Lisa. It's not that bad. You will get used to it."

Bart gagged, disgusted. "Okay, I get it! It sucks ass!" She laughed, and he grinned. "Ya know, if you wanna be noticed, we just gotta work on your technique. Next time, try taking a joyride through the halls on a lawnmower."

"I wanna be noticed, not expelled."

"I suppose that is a little advanced for a beginner," He said, scrunching up his face. He shrugged. "I will think of something." Passing the courthouse, they were surprised to find how quiet downtown was. Good news in a way, because it meant the Noiseland Arcade was deserted as well. Sitting on the corner of an intersection next to the local travel agency, there were only a few other kids inside the simple square building whose flashing sign was in dire need of a coat of paint.

Looking inside, Terri lit up, pumping a fist. "Yes! Nuclear Winter is fixed!" She darted inside, giddy at the prospect of playing her favorite game. Luckily, she had skipped lunch that day, meaning there were five dollars in quarters in her bag.

As she slid them into the coin slot, Bart watched, puzzled. "Huh. I guess girls do like video games."

"… I mean, I do," Terri said, pausing. She pursed her lips. "Why did you suggest the arcade if you didn't think we did?"

"This is where I usually come when I feel blue."

"Well, this is where I come when Sherri is doing choir," she said, completing the dollar. The screen flashed, and she rolled her neck. "This is the only thing that knows my name." Another flash of cringe followed. She really was pathetic.

Supporting the claim were the letters TMACK on the top of the leaderboard with a solid four thousand points. Bart stood off to the side, whistling. "Well, I'll be. Learn something new every day."

Terri placed her left hand on the buttons close to him, and the other on the directional. "You could try talking to girls. We aren't space aliens." The game started with a bright mushroom cloud. She hurried to collect the various weapons to survive the radiation-torched landscape.

"Could have fooled me. You and Sherri spent years trying to infect me with your cootie virus," Bart retorted, glad that she was lightening up a little. Unknown to her, he was having an equally tumultuous internal crisis, brought by the fact his schoolboy crush was on Terri's sister, Sherri. Though lack of interaction had caused it to fall by the wayside, and maybe it was the neon lights or the lead in the paint on the walls but the glow of the game's screen was giving him a new appreciation of the often neglected Mackleberry twin. Though the establishment really should have removed the asbestos from the flooring. Bart gulped, feeling the puberty demon's spindly fingers crawling across the back of his neck. "Uh-oh."

Suppressing her deep-rooted teenage conniptions, Terri side-eyed him. "Well… Don't just stand there, give me a hand."

He remained hesitant. "You sure? It is your game." It was unfortunate his palms were unusually sweaty. They would surely affect his performance.

"Duh, of course, I'm sure. I wanna beat the next boss."

Bart could appreciate that desire. He complied and took over the left buttons of the machine. Each one corresponded to an attack or a dodge. What followed was an intense, sweaty, and all-around exhausting boss rush. Twenty minutes in, his fingers were cramping and his eyes were dry from not blinking. Terri was not much better off. Her wrist was aching from having to keep pace with the fast-moving opponent on the screen.

Despite their collective effort, success wasn't in the cards. At the forty-minute mark, the last health point evaporated in a burst of minigun fire and the game over screen flashed. They were tragically exactly fifty points short of beating her original score. Defeated, Bart took a step back, wiping his brow. "Holy hell, that was rough."

Terri took a break, stepping back. "Gah! The rocket barrage is so hard to dodge!" Not ready to give up yet, she slammed in another dollar. "Again."

Cracking his fingers loudly, Bart took his position. "This time, Lieutenant Lou is going down." Another session, another defeat on the edge of victory. However, they learned something, a hidden room that contained helpful buffs to deal with the final boss's special move set. So on the third attempt, together they broke through the wall. Lieutenant Lou exploded into a gory mess of pixelated red chunks and melted flesh.

In disbelief, Terri watched as their new high school of five thousand points blinked above her original points. "We did it!" She cried excitedly, bouncing up and down, fighting the urge to hug him right there. As she realized he was staring, Terri came to an abrupt stop, awkwardly trying to reclaim what little coolness she had left. "Uh… What should our name be?"

The input was blinking, waiting for a maximum of five letters. Bart gestured in the air. "I dunno."

"How about Beri?" She asked, pressing the tips of her fingers together.

"Works for me." He said as she typed in the name. "Hey, spell it B – A – R – I."

Terri snickered, pressing enter. "Ehehe… Too late." Cracking a smile, she smugly said. "What? I did most of the work."

Bart crossed his arms. "So that's how it is. Fine." He indicated with his head to another machine in the corner of the building. "No more screwin' around with your girly games. I challenge you to a Super Slugfest match, best two out of three."

"Eheh. That desperate to lose to a girl huh? You are on, Bart." The game was as simple as they come. A boxing-style fighter with a limited set of possible combos. However, passions were running high, and what could have been a light-hearted game between friends became history's most intense grudge match. A knockdown, drag-out fight for supremacy, with neither Bart nor Terri holding any punches.

In the first round, Bart got lucky, using an anvil to cave in the skull of Terri's fighter. "Damn, too bad. You could have–"

"Shush. Game's not over," she interrupted, popping her knuckles. Terri had a plan up her sleeve, a tried and tested way to knock him off his guard. One she put into action when he was winding up for another knockout combo.

In a flash, she leaned closer, kissing Bart right on the cheek. He immediately lost focus. "Waaa!" Desperately wiping away her cootie-laden spit. "Cheater!"

Terri smirked as her fighter landed the finishing blow, making tying them. "Hehe. Too easy…" Batting her eyelashes, she continued. "Can't wait to tell everyone at school how you lost to me."

It was a matter of pride now. Bart gave a quick stretch over his head. "In your dreams." He gave her a shove, taking a stance. "You are done for." With a ring of the bell, their avatars were back to wailing on each other. Blood and teeth flew everywhere. Watching her out of the corner of his eye, Bart waited for the ideal moment to strike.

The opportunity came, and he made his move. Unfortunately, she had the same idea, to repeat her earlier tactic, so to the shared mortification of both, it was their lips that met in the middle. Bart's heart was beating ninety miles a minute, and the single thought on his mind was: Huh. Maybe cooties aren't so bad.

On the other side of the coin, Terri felt dizzy as her brain effectively shorted out. Her face became as red as her boxer's club and her knees buckled, causing her to fall. Neither was focused on the game any longer, which ended as a draw. "I… I." She put both hands over her head, practically squealing. "That wasn't how it was supposed to happen!"

Bart slid down next to her in a state of shock. "Damn." He smacked his lips twice, wondering briefly if he was about to die. "Tastes like grape soda…" He glanced at her. "I want a Squishie now."

Baffled, Terri looked at him. "You kissed me!"

"Uh, I believe you kissed me, actually." He retorted, wiping the sweat from his palms. The puberty demon cackled manically from the shadows of the arcade. "Consider it payback for fourth grade."

Terri responded by giving his arm a solid punch. "Jerk. I wanted our first kiss to be special."

"Our?"

Her mistake was apparent. She leaped to her feet screaming, "I didn't mean that!" Promptly fleeing from the arcade, fully prepared to leap in front of the first car that passed, preventing any further embarrassment.

Bart sat for a minute, stunned, then licked his lips again. Still tasted like grape, reminding him he was damn thirsty. Figuring Terri might want a drink too after all her yelling, he left to see which way she ran.

Terri did not make it too far, since she unluckily crashed into another student from school. They weren't the only kids who could play hooky.

"Oh gross, I guess the circus lost a freak." A voice chided, as Terri was roughly shoved in the opposite direction.

She stumbled and saw a crimson bow, complimented by a matching dress that stopped below her bully's knee. Perfect jet black hair confirmed that it was Sara, a sixth grader who was easily one of the meanest girls in school. She was accompanied by two of her lackeys, neither of whom Terri ever learned their names. Reeling from a whiplash of emotions, she regained herself and gave a short wave. "Oh hey, Sara. Isn't this a downright awful coincidence?"

Crossing her arms, Sara sneered cruelly. "Hey, Tweedle Dum. Did you get separated from Tweedle Dee?" She liked to use the on-the-nose nickname interchangeably, she hadn't the slightest idea who was who. Raising an eyebrow, the next question was to be expected. "Well don't just stand there. Which thing are you? The cutter or the puker?"

Terri bristled. There was a plan in the works to retaliate against their sworn enemy. Too bad buying pig's blood to reenact their favorite scene from Carrie was not as easy as the twins had hoped. "None of your business. That is classified information."

"Classified, huh? You creeps sure love your secrets," Sara said, shrugging her shoulders. "No wonder you don't have any friends."

With impeccable timing, Bart caught up breathlessly, putting his hands on his knees. "Damn, I thought you turned right." Puzzled, he looked up at the other girls. "Yo, Sara. I thought your mom worked the corner near the Laundromat."

"I- She—" Sara stuttered.

"What? She's nice, always helps me figure out which fabric softener to use." Bart explained innocently. He rotated his hips. "Lemon-scented and soft. Now that is comfort you can appreciate."

Terri giggled. This was news to her. She would have to keep it in mind. Sara rolled her eyes. "Whatever," she said curtly, and pushed past them. "Enjoy your date, freaks."

She walked across the street, leaving the two alone. Bart watched. "What is her problem?" He looked over. "Wanna get a Squishie, bigfoot? On me."

"Please don't call me that. I am not that hairy." Terri said appreciatively that he diffused the situation so effortlessly.

"Ah, my bad Terri. I figured he was a distant relation," Bart chortled, stepping onto the edge of the sidewalk, not looking both ways like a proper bad boy. "Considering I have a rampant cootie infection, there is a good chance I will drop dead any minute."

Coming to his side, Terri hated to admit it was reassuring he remembered her name. "Sure, I like boys on the verge of death." She winced. What a stupid thing to say. The puberty demon was certainly going out of its way to humiliate her.

Luckily, Bart was embracing the weirdness of the whole affair, and they walked across town to get their Squishies. Then spent the rest of the afternoon browsing movies at the VHS store, where he discovered she had a huge infatuation with Pinhead from Hellraiser. So a date was made to watch it together later in the week.

Lisa covered her mouth, laughing at the last picture of the page. Martin had felt inclined to include an extra photograph of Bart and Terri sitting next to each other at the back of detention. Complete with a red heart drawn around it, and the caption: Love blooms? They were staring at the camera in complete bafflement.

"You laugh, but he was right," Bart said, accepting his fate, with Terri sitting grumpily on top of him. He reached up, caressing her scarred forearm. His finger was intimately familiar with each one, and Bart's touch was tender. Terri felt her arm hairs stand on end, relieved that the lowest point of her life was over. Not just because of his affection, but also because ballet had done much to boost her self-confidence.

"Ya know, he and Ralph are surprisingly good when it comes to romance," Nelson said, keeping his eyes on the road. "Professor Prince may be a fruit, but he knows what girls like." He paused. "Maybe that is why he knows what girls like."

Jessica agreed. "It's true. He recommended that shampoo you liked so much, love."

Touching the edge of her hair, Sherri exclaimed. "Really!? Martin!?"

Lisa turned to the next page. "Wait, though. That story didn't tell me anything." She nodded toward the two sickening lovebirds. "I already figured out they were a thing when she pierced his ear."

Terri stuck a finger through his earring, giving it a gentle tug. "And now you know the full story."

"I wanted to look like a cenobite," Bart grinned, having dumbly made the suggestion after watching Frank get torn apart by hooked chains in the movie. To his shock and low-key terror, she had a kit already prepared.

Returning to her narrator persona, Sherri said. "Well, brain, as I am sure you know, a good story starts with a solid foundation." She pointed across the bus at her sister. "We don't keep secrets from each other. So it was only a matter of time before I ended up in detention, too."

"Tragically, they fixed that window. We had to get more creative." Terri added.

'Mhmm. This one already knew how to pick a lock." Bart said, giving her a little shake. "I was smitten the second I saw those fingers work a bobby pin."

A thoughtful look came over Jessica's face. "It's how you know a girl is good with her hands."

"Precisely," He agreed.

"This romance shit blows!" Nelson interrupted loudly. "Skip to when I got back! Then it was a party!" He noticed a faded but towering billboard nearly impossible to read in the glare. He squinted at it: Sneed's Feed and Seed. In finer print. Formerly Chuck's. Then in large red letters declared. Now with petrol for city slickers! Fresh barbecue! He liked the sound of that, glancing at the fuel gauge. "Eh. We can make it."

Jessica faked a yawn. "No one is interested in you, Nelly." She gestured to herself. "Let's skip to when my flawless ass got back."

Sherri held up both hands, calming them. "We got plenty of time, guys." She looked back to Lisa whose brow was furrowed so much the vein on her temple was popping. "Anyway, with Nelly out of the clink, I don't think we need a refresher on why he was back in detention. Things got a lot more interesting."

"Heh. Yeah., Lisa said, side-eyeing the driver. "I told you there were cameras in the bathrooms."

"Hey. How was I supposed to know that the sink would just come off?" He asked. "Besides, Milhouse helped."

Terri couldn't help but smile, thinking about the incident. "It was certainly a unique way to get out of a test." She made a sound like rushing water making a wave with her hand. "Fwoosh. You were lucky to not get expelled."

"Eh. What can I say? I turned on the ole Muntz charm." Nelson said.

"You mean Milhouse turned on the waterworks." Bart corrected.

"Whatever works bro. He saved us."

Sherri cleared her throat, refocusing the conservation. "By Eighth Grade, detention was getting pretty crowded." She nudged her girlfriend. "But I think we all agree. Everything changed when this one transferred back."