The morning of next Saturday came, and Sideshow Mel was busily opening and telling to Krusty the many, many stories that the children had sent. The first one opened was one by Ralph Wiggum, called "My Sory":
"Earthworm went outside and found a endeavor. Derriere is a funny word, said the pianist. Then the earthworm and the pianist and the endeavor and a pickle went to a quest where they found a racket. Earthworm hit endeavor with it. The end."
"Ughhh… that was the worst story I've ever heard! I guess this is what they mean when they say the first is the worst," Krusty brooded. "Next…"
Story after story, Krusty simply wouldn't laugh. Sideshow Mel suggested, "If you aren't going to laugh at any of these stories, maybe you should hold a raffle instead. You wouldn't want to let the children down would you?"
"Meh," responded the apathetic clown, as he took a long drag on his cigar. "The kids won't know if I don't pick anyone, they'll just think that they didn't end up winning."
"What about the signed photograph of you and Mr. Teeny?" Mel reminded Krusty. Krusty responded with a coughing fit. "And besides, the performance at the child's house will be televised. You don't want to let down all your fans by not performing, do you?"
"Crap!" Krusty groaned.
Sideshow Mel, opening another story, noticed, "Krusty, this one's anonymous!"
"Well then let's hope it sucks even worse than all the other stories."
The story, called "Bad Luck Streak", went as follows:
"It was an ordinary day, and Scratchy"-Krusty commented that the use of cartoon characters was a nice touch-"was walking down the road. He decided to stop on a bench on the way, and eat a pickle to replenish his energy. But it was a stick of dynamite, not a pickle, so he threw it away. Itchy, who had given Scratchy the dynamite, stomped on an earthworm to ease his frustration, but the force at which Itchy put down his foot broke his entire leg. But Itchy continued to endeavor his quest to kill Scratchy. Scratchy, who saw Itchy coming behind him, picked up a racket and hit Itchy right in the derriere. Itchy then stole the racket and hit Scratchy in the derriere five times in a row. The pickle/dynamite in the trash then blew the Itchy and Scratchy both to bits."
By this time Krusty was laughing uncontrollably, and Sideshow Mel tried desperately to calm him down before he had a heart attack. Mel's pitiful face only made Krusty laugh harder than he already had. Mel decided to put on a mad face instead. "You're in trouble, Krusty. Big trouble." This calmed down Krusty a little, making his speech intelligible.
"Oh man! Oho! Ohoho man, that was a good one. I'm going to his house today!" Krusty declared. "And, ah… As for the runner-ups, we'll just have a raffle." Sideshow Mel nodded in concurrence.
When they arrived at the house, they rang the doorbell. A voice from within called out, "Come in." Krusty and Sideshow Mel proceeded into the house.
The foyer that they entered was painted a deep blue, with an extravagant forest green rug laid out on the floor. The lights that dotted the walls led into the halls. "What a place you got here!" Krusty admired. "Yes, isn't it wonderful," responded the voice in the kitchen.
"Hey, I know that voice… It's- It's Sideshow Bob! Hey hey, Sideshow Bob!!" Krusty announced. "I didn't know you would enter this contest. I must say, that story was really funny. We're not on camera yet, right?"
Fred, the cameraman, said "No."
"Okay, so I'll say this: The kids' stories SUCKED. I mean, some people say that I suck, but they have never read those stories. You would just cringe at the sight of them Bob! I mean, those kids don't even know what's funny. It's like the only reason they watch me is because I tell them what's funny and what isn't. And they don't even listen to me! Seriously, those kids need to go to clown school."
"You know, Krusty, they might actually listen to you. Maybe that is why their humor level is so low." Sideshow Bob responded nonchalantly.
"Hey," Krusty whined indignantly.
"It's the truth, but… you know, I think that the cameraman has lied to you and the film was rolling the whole time."
Fred's eyes darted around the room, then he ran away.
"But don't worry. None of this was aired."
"Oh thank God."
Sideshow Bob turned the film off. He then looked at Krusty, and a smile spread across Bob's face. For only a fraction of a second, he looked, in a strange way, happy. Something stirred in Mel's stomach upon seeing this. He swallowed hard, stood up and said, "We should show this program at 1 pm. The kids will have just eaten their lunch and would be waiting expectantly at the TV at that time."
"Good thinking Mel," Krusty commended. "We'll have plenty of time before then; just enough time to find a new cameraman."
"I could be your cameraman, you know. The children wouldn't even know the difference," Sideshow Bob suggested. "We can do other things in two hours. Please, now, let's have some tea."
Sideshow Mel usually enjoyed his tea, but right now, it didn't seem to go down so well. Deep inside him, he felt that something would go very wrong, very soon.
"So how have things been going, Bob?"
"Well, Krusty, as you know, I've been to jail for a while; but the police chief Wiggum decided that I had served enough time, that I should be let out for good behaviour. And I have been good; I haven't tried to kill Bart or anyone since my release. I have just been at home, reading the newspapers, wondering if I could find any jobs…"
"You could work for me again," Krusty offered. Sideshow Mel cleared his throat to catch Krusty's attention.
"Oh, no, Krusty, I wouldn't work for you again. You have your sideshow performer, Mel, and he is a perfectly wonderful performer at that. Besides, you saw how working for you affected me the first time; I've certainly learned my lesson! And Mel, you might want to pay attention to what I've done. Quitting your job for him could be in your best interest."
"I- I like working for Krusty," Mel responded defensively.
"Oh, you're sure now. Because I didn't see it coming that Krusty would drive me mad, but I still knew I didn't like it much. You sounded as if you didn't even know."
"I'm fine working for him. It's fine. I'm all right, now please. Don't make me quit a job I enjoy, because I really do enjoy it."
"If you say so."
The conversation between Bob and Krusty continued until 12:55, when Mel said, "We're on in 5 minutes!"
They scrambled to prepare for the show. At 12:58, Krusty took out a cigar and was about to light it, but Bob said, "Please, no smoking in my house."
1:00. The show begins.
"Hey hey, kids!!" Krusty began, laughing. "As promised, I have chosen my winner for the story contest. The winner was Sideshow Bob!!"
Bart's eyes widened, his heart pounded, and he swallowed a scream upon hearing the name.
"And as promised, we're doing our show right in his living room!!"
Krusty got onto a miniature bicycle, and then rode it around a loop. He completed his act by eating the bicycle. "Cha-ching, cha-ching."
"Now instead of rolling a cartoon like we usually do, we're going to ACT OUT Itchy and Scratchy! Sideshow Mel is Itchy, and I'm Scratchy!"
Krusty walked across the room, then sat on the couch and took out a pickle. "Uh-oh, this one's dynamite," he said, throwing the pickle away.
"Oh, rats!" Mel moaned, and stomped on the floor with force; he picked up his foot and began hopping, yowling in pain. He persevered to reach Krusty.
"I see you, you know," Krusty informed Mel. He bent down and picked up a racket. He smacked Mel right in the derriere. Mel, in retaliation, smacked Krusty with the racket five more times. Then… BOOM. Somewhere off-screen, something had exploded, and to the audience, it seemed that that was the pickle exploding. Sideshow Bob held up a "The End" sign in front of the camera.
"Now for our next section, I'm going to shoot Sideshow Mel out of a cannon!"
Sideshow Bob's eye twitched.
Sssssssssssss-BOOOM, the cannon exploded. Something snapped in Sideshow Bob's mind, something that had snapped already, long ago. He looked around, found a gun on a nearby table, picked it up, and shot Krusty.
Three times.