Fools & Ghouls: A Horror Anthology

by tangymustard

Springfield, USA is the home of many strange occurrences and paranormal encounters. It's up to the Springfield Investigative Society to document and research the oddities of the beloved town. Follow Bart, Nelson, Jessica, Sherri and Terri as they face the true horrors that lie beneath the town—and survive to see graduation!

4. Chapter 4

It was an unusually humid April morning when Sherri and Terri walked to school. The kind of humidity was deceptive because the sun was concealed behind a layer of gray clouds, but despite this, it was impossible to escape the oppressive walls of moisture. They pressed inward from each side, suffocating whoever was unfortunate enough to be outside. The agonizing conditions did have some comical effects, though, like how Sherri and Terri's hair became so incomprehensibly frizzy that it was possible for them to conceal small animals inside. Which they often did. The miserable weather also gave the twins an excuse to dress head to toe in even more layers than usual. Anything to protect their delicate skin from the harsh conditions of the world.

Shifting her flute case to her other hand, Sherri interrupted her sister, who had been rambling non-stop about the busy night she and Bart had spent spray painting a mural on the dam. "I swear if they still haven't fixed the air condition!"

Ignoring her, Terri continued to prattle on. "And he said he had fun!" Happily, she grabbed hold of her sister's arm, bouncing up and down. "Do you know what that means!?"

Sherri heaved a sigh, glancing over. "That you are reading too much into whatever he said?"

"Nuh-uh! It means that Milhouse is on thin ice!" Terri exclaimed, having been worriedly probing the rumour that the two were gay. A rumor she and her sister had concocted years prior, but had become impossible to rule out given the boys' strange friendship.

Dry heaving Sherri gagged. "Can't believe it. My dear, wonderful sister has let her hormones corrupt her into being a normal. Guess I'll have to buy you some blue hair dye."

Terri frowned. There had been palpable tension between them ever since she became adamant about asserting herself as an individual. Twin angst was real and a serious problem that plagued their family, for obvious reasons. "Ew no. Why would I do that? Bart thinks my hair is wicked already." She dropped her hand back to her side. "What we need to do is put another hex on Milhouse."

"Hmm. What should we try this time?" Sherri asked, fishing into her purse for a book of spells. Revealing the dried sheepskin cover that featured an oak tree with deep roots on its rough surface.

She flipped to the middle as they walked. "He has survived: the flu, dancer's disease, brain rot, flesh-eating bacteria, Bubonic plague, scarlet fever, hysterical blindness, hysterical pregnancy, worm flesh, annnnnd…" She turned the page. "Ghosts in the blood."

Their deep-rooted personal grudge against the unlucky bastard was invoked by his all-around insufferable reaction to, in his words, a couple of skirts joining the friend group. A classic case of masculine insecurity. "Damnable vaccines," Terri grumbled, frustrated that modern medicine was continuing to cock block her ambitions. She reached for the book, thumbing through it until she reached the end. "Smallpox. The incantation is a bit difficult, but we haven't tried it yet."

Sherri leaned closer to read the requirements. "Hmm. We should have all those." They had plenty of poppets, to be certain. A rite of passage for any Mackleberry woman upon reaching thirteen was getting to make their first doll. Airing on the side of caution, she took the book back and shut it abruptly. "We better not. Causing another Satanic Panic would be a bad idea."

"But it would liven this place up."

"You really are downright determined to get us both burned at the stake."

"It is my fifth favorite way to die." Terri said, putting her hands together wistfully at the idea. She sighed longingly. "I wonder if Bart would perform a blood eagle on me. It'd be so romantic."

"With those spindly arms? I doubt he could do it without the harness." Sherri muttered cryptically. She slid the book back into her purse. "Besides, we agreed. We die at thirty during a botched surgery attempt to merge our souls."

The sound of a skateboard fast approaching caused her to tug her sister out of harm's way as Bart whizzed passed, turned on a dime, and did a smooth kick flip that came to a stop in front of the twins. Popping his board up, he saluted. "Yo."

They responded with a perfectly synced wave. "Hey, Bart."

He shuddered, not quite used to their mutual mannerisms. Most of them were fine, aside from when Sherri and Terri would blink in unison. The sound produced by it could only be described as a wet noodle slapping a wooden counter. With his Focusyn already kicking in, standing still was out of the question, so Bart turned and put his board down. "You coming over after detention today, Terri? I finished that sketch I was telling you about last night."

Since their kiss in Seventh Grade, the odd pairing had been spending quite a lot of time together. Leading most of their peers to assume they were a couple. There was just one person wholly unaware of it. Bart himself. He did not know that spending all his free time with a girl constituted a deeper relationship than simple friendship in most people's minds.

His lack of reaction was not born out of malice, but like many kids his age, Bart was not adept at deciphering what was to everyone else an obvious set of signals. Her serious attempts at flirtation like letting him put a hand on her thigh were met with remarks about how she was different from the kinds of friends he was used to having.

Terri, already struggling with feelings of invisibility, would sometimes become so frustrated she would shriek into her pillow. But she was determined to make things work and blurted out, "Actually, would you want to come over to our house? You promised to watch Nightmare Elm Street II with me."

Sherri offered an annoyed groan, practically deflating into a bubbling puddle of disgust but Bart looked back interested. "Whoa, an invitation to the witch house. Didn't you tell me only girls were allowed?"

"They ar–" Sherri tried to say before a hand over her mouth stopped her.

"We decided to make an exception. For you." Terri tried to emphasize the rarity of the offer, batting her eyelashes.

Grumbling, Sherri licked her sister's hand. Bart flashed a toothy grin. "I am down. I've always wanted to see the skeletons in your basement." He pushed off with his foot. "See you guys in a few!" He sped down the sidewalk, rounded a corner, and disappeared from view.

With a scowl, Sherri brought a blonde, spiky-haired poppet out of her purse. "He's too chipper. A tumble would do him some good." She took the sewing needle she kept behind her left ear, preparing to pierce the leg of the doll.

"No!" Terri shouted, grabbing the felt figure. "We agreed!"

"God, you have become such a bore." Sherri huffed, disappointed. She was still adjusting to the changes in their social life. Peeved, she gave Terri a push. "And how dare you! Our sanctuary shouldn't be defiled by boys!"

Sliding the poppet into her bra, making sure the little guy could see out of his new home, Terri shrugged. "We agreed that was an Elementary School years-only rule. Until we could get dates." Looking in the school's direction, she sighed. "And Goddesses, he's so dreamy."

Ready to hurl, Sherri gagged for the second time that morning. "Gross! Vile! How are we related!?"

"No reason to be so mean. You are acting like you don't love me anymore." Terri pouted, her lower lip trembling.

Unable to hurt her other half, Sherri caved. "I am sorry! I didn't mean it!" She gave Terri a half hug pressing their sides together. "I love you so much!" They were unusually close for sisters, at least for normal sisters. As twins, their early years were spent joined at the hip.

"I love you too." Terri said sweetly, glad their bond was as strong as ever. The two link arms. "Just give him a chance. It'd be nice to have someone else at our birthday party this year."

Concocting an image in her head, Sherri shuddered. "You say that. Then he brings his weird friends along too." Counting off her fingers. "First comes Nelson. He can be fun, we like Nelson. Then comes Lewis, Richard, and maybe Martin. Getting uncomfortable now, these guys can't tell us apart." From the perspective of Sherri and Terri, it was obvious who was who. Sherri was on the right, and the dominant twin, Terri, was on the left, twenty seconds younger. Meaning, if someone was looking directly at them, the perspective was the opposite. Suddenly, they clapped their free hands together. "Wham! Milhouse is touching our presents with his Cheeto fingers and asking us who is the evil twin again."

To describe the forbidden question as insensitive was an understatement. It misunderstood the nuances of being born a Mackleberry. They came in pairs for a reason and were equally evil. To suggest otherwise was incredibly offensive. It was his social faux pa that had earned their ire in Sixth Grade. The right corner of Terri's lips curled upward. Then it's good we have his poppet, right here." She brought out another doll which had strands of blue hair. "Smallpox would do his ego some good."

Sherri grinned maliciously, holding up the needle in her hand. "Make sure to poke his humors. We want this to work." They cackled as she slid the needle into the stomach of the patchwork doll.

---

Underfunded, decrepit, rat-infested, and inundated with toxic black mold, the Middle School was about as destitute as the rest of the public schools in the declining town of Springfield. Lead paint combined with damaged asbestos insulation contributed to bottoming out test scores, but the district didn't care enough to fix the growing mountain of problems. Cracked windows sealed by duct tape dotted its rectangular structure. Overgrown by moss, the faded red bricks direly needed some groundskeeping.

Unfortunately, due to budget cuts, the faculty had to choose between keeping the power or the janitor, so the choice was clear. Though that didn't stop the central cooling and heating from sporadically malfunctioning during the week. Turning the entire place into a freezer or a furnace, respectively. As a result, passed the front doors was a lawless wasteland where the students fended for themselves and the teachers looked the other way when an unlucky nerd got their head dunked inside a toilet.

Such an unstructured environment should have been cherished by the likes of Bart and Nelson. Should have been. In reality, prison rules applied. Being alone was just asking to get shoved in a locker by the roving gangs of bullies that patrolled the halls looking for any excuse to torment someone.

Ahead of the girls, Bart found the rest of his crew sitting on the concrete sidewalk near the school engaged in a serious debate on how to properly eat a kit kat bar. Holding three of the treats in question in his palm, Milhouse declared, "You have to break them up individually so that way you can savor each bite."

"Bullshit. It's a fucking candy bar. You take a bite," Nelson retorted, snatching the rightmost piece of candy and cramming the whole thing into his mouth.

Watching the wrapper vanish, Bart said, "Not this again." He took the rest of the candy, holding them up. "You guys know the rules. No snacks that can be eaten differently."

"Aww, come on, man. They were having a clearance sale at Sprawl Mart," Milhouse whined. He flexed his impressive bicep muscles. "Besides, it's my cheat day."

Bart took a bite out of the first kit-kat but slid the other into his shirt pocket. "It's always your cheat day." He noticed a swollen boil dead center of Milhouse's huge forehead, red like a ripe tomato."Damn, that is nasty dude."

Reaching to prod the pulsating mass, Milhouse whined. "Your girlfriend gave it to me."

Embarrassed by the implication, Bart became defensive. "For the last time, she is not my girlfriend!"

Nelson groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Man, how many times are we going to go over this?" He got up. "Terri is a girl, right?" Bart nodded. He knew that much. Nelson continued the train of thought. "She is a girl, you like spending time with, yes?" Another blank-faced nod. "So much so you have blown us off to hang out with her. Therefore, you consider her more than a friend, perhaps even a girlfriend."

Bart could see the pieces laid on the table, but couldn't put them together. Befuddled by the train of logic, he said. "No, we aren't. I haven't asked her on a date."

A fist connected with his stomach, and Nelson held the back of his shirt as he tried to double over. "You kissed her dingus! Gah!" He released Bart, throwing his arms into the air. "I can't do it Milton! It's like talking to my pet rock!"

Offering the assist Milhouse hopped up. "He has a point, Bart. That pig nosed hussy literally writes romantic poetry about you in Mrs. Carter's class."

Bart stopped, dryly saying, "You write poetry about me, Milhouse."

"So does Nelson!" Milhouse hastily deflected, pointing at their friend. "About your luscious blonde locks and beautiful eyes!"

Suddenly distracted by what was previously said, Bart did a double take. "Wait. Nelson, did you say you have a pet rock?"

Nelson screamed, punching a nearby tree. "This dumb son of a bitch!" He caught sight of Martin walking with Wendell into the building and gave chase. "Martin, come here! I am going to kick your ass!"

Martin made a break for it with a raging Nelson hot on his trail. Bart watched the spectacle. "What is eating him?"

"He has April in the pot," Milhouse answered.

"What pot?"

"The 'when will Bart sell his freedom' pot. You should have got a memo," Milhouse clarified, making a whip-cracking sound with his mouth for emphasis. "You already kissed that ugly witch, it's only a matter of time before she turns you into a toad for good."

Bart shifted his backpack, picking up his skateboard. "Why is everyone making such a big deal out of this? She is just fun to hang out with."

"But where does it end, Bart? Where does it end? How long until she's turned you into a brainless zombie serving her every whim."

The pulsating boil was inches from his eye, prompting Bart to back up uneasily. "That doesn't sound too bad. She'd probably crucify me and use my corpse as a ward." He pointed at the moving pustule. "Honestly, you have bigger concerns, man."

Milhouse reached up to prod the nasty infection again. "Fine, I will go pop it right now. Wanna watch?"

"Eh… Think I'll pass," Bart said, looking away.

"Yeah, thought so. The old non-whipped Bart would have gotten a front-row seat." Milhouse scoffed at leaving. As it turned out, it was a good idea to take a rain check. Because Milhouse spent nearly ten minutes staring into the mirror, pressing the bluish-tinged skin around the unsightly infection. As he tended to the task, a sudden bulging from the center of the mass caused him to freeze. A slight protrusion before sinking back down. Revolted by the prospect that something was living underneath his flesh, Milhouse pressed harder, finally causing the sac to burst. A tidal wave of foul-smelling pus followed, made far worse when a torrent of spiders streamed from his forehead. Thousands scurried in every direction, causing screams of panic from the stalls.

The commotion was so great, in fact, that Bart stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the door. Lewis and Richard made a hasty escape. Nelson, who had been wailing on Martin, was the last to escape, leaving his victim to drown in the sticky, greenish puss which was seeping underneath the door. Trying to catch his breath, he shuddered. "I… I think some of it got into my mouth."

He spat several times onto the tiles. Then a ghostly giggle caused them both to turn slowly to see Sherri and Terri standing a few feet back, grinning creepily. Nervous, Bart pointed at the site where the horror was unfolding. Several other classmates sprinted out frantically, brushing themselves in case a rogue spider clung to their clothes. "You guys… wouldn't happen to know anything about that?"

"We might have read the verse wrong," Sherri whispered to her twin.

Terri was equally disappointed. "Latin is hard." Realizing the boys were staring, she quickly spoke up. "What kind of question is that, Bart? We just got here."

Sherri hastily slid the poppet plus needle into her purse. "Yeah. You guys always assume we are scheming." She faked a tremble. "It's really mean."

Nelson's eyes narrowed as he studied them. Unable to tell if they were being honest or not, he rubbed the back of his head. "Well, I guess it's unfair to blame you for his acne."

Bart remained wary, but caved when Terri came closer, offering her warmest smile. "We would never dream of hurting anyone."

"Yeah. I know you wouldn't." He said as the group headed into the commons area, and the deafening noise of hundreds of kids talking. When combined with the overwhelming odor of a lack of personal hygiene, the humidity inside was dizzying. Noticing an orange poster on the wall, a tragedy of color theory was advertising the summer dance. Bart snorted. "What kind of loser would want to go to one of those things?"

"I tell you what, loser. This one!" Nelson declared, pumping a fist. "Already asked Lisa!"

"Uh huh, and what did she say?" Sherri asked, though she already knew the answer.

"No… She has a test, " Nelson said, his enthusiasm waning. "But that is okay, I asked Janey."

"And?"

"No, and. She said yes," Nelson said, crossing his arms. "Lewis waited too long. Snooze ya lose. Those are the rules."

Bart shook his head, dismayed. "Like I said. Only lamewads care about some school dance. The music sucks and everyone is sweaty." Terri coughed, and he turned to face her, walking backward. "What?"

"Wanna go to the dance with me?" She asked, figuring now was as good a time as any. Sherri grew paler.

Stopping at the stairs, Bart said. "As friends?"

"Umm.. No, I was thinking as…"

"I get it. You want to ruin it for the happy couples?" Bart interrupted her by putting a hand on his chin. He smirked. "I had something in the works for the pep rally, but a few changes could make it work."

Nelson and Sherri were enraptured by the sheer stupidity on display. Equally impressed by Terri's commitment when she pressed her index fingers together. "No… I was thinking we could, you know, be one of the happy couples."

"Why would you want to be that?" Bart asked, genuinely confused now. "Romance is for squares."

Whispering to Nelson, Sherri hissed, "Kill me."

"You kill me first." He whispered back.

Terri puffed her cheeks, getting flustered by his stupidity. "I thought it might be fun to do. Just the two of us for a change."

As if a lightbulb went off, Bart slapped his forehead. "God, I am dumb." Her eyes glittered with hope. The two onlookers leaning in convinced their friend had finally come to his senses. Fishing out two black and white tickets, Bart completely changed the subject without warning. "Lise must have told you about the Capital City Haunting tour." He offered them. "It's supposed to be a lot of fun, and on the same day as the dance. If you wanna go."

"Huh!?" Terri snatched them. The last thing she expected was him to ask her on a non-related date. Sure enough, they were authentic. The stamp of a skeleton flashing a thumbs up confirmed it. "How did you get these!?"

"Homer thought they were for the Capital City Hosers tour."

Sherri was skeptical, continuing to whisper. "When is the shoe going to drop?"

"One. Two." Nelson counted.

Bouncing excitedly in place, Terri hugged Bart. "I would love to go on a date with you!"

Caught off guard, he stood there awkwardly at first, patting her back. On the count of four, he said."Date?"

"Part of our soul just died." Sherri sighed. At this rate, she was going to go grey from her twin's waves of angst.

Terri slowly let go, realizing his confusion. "You are asking me out, right?"

Bart nodded. "Yeah. I figured you, of all my friends, would enjoy it the most." Taking the tickets back, he asked. "Don't you want to go?"

"Friends…" Terri's face drooped, a lump in her throat forming. Putting on a brave expression, she gulped. "I'd love to go."

Sherri walked up and gingerly put an arm around Terri's shoulder. "Excuse us." They ascended the stairs, leaving them.

Confused, Bart said. "Did I say something—"

He didn't have time to finish before Nelson tackled him. "How could you, Bart!? How could you crush such an incredible girl's dream like that!? He pummeled the moron for a solid five minutes until the bell rang for their first class. Satisfied he had rendered appropriate judgment, he slid off and offered a hand.

Bart groaned, having bit his tongue during the beating. "Ugh… What was that for?" He was pulled to his feet.

"You are such an ass." Nelson grumbled, giving another slug in the arm for good measure. "Listen here, Bart." He took him by the collar. "Even I can't stand to watch a nice girl suffer. You need to get a clue or so, help me, I will throw you off the roof."

Bart hastily nodded. "Okay, okay. There is no reason for this to get ugly."

Nelson gave his friend another shake for good measure. "Think long and hard today. Ask yourself why would Terri go to such great lengths to be simply friends."

---

Sitting in English, Sherri leaned over. "You okay?" She tapped her purse. "Not too late to give him a serious case of the runs."

Terri had been biting her lip for a solid minute. "Yeah. I am good." Keeping both hands on her desk she exhaled. "It is really sweet he thought of me first."

She was already smiling again, prompting Sherri to roll her eyes. "Disgusting."

---

The rest of the day proceeded as normal. A couple of kids got into a proper brawl in the boys' restroom, a teacher had a nervous breakdown, and Milhouse was shipped off to a research facility upstate to observe the severity of his condition. Rumors were floating around about a new girl who was already causing waves of discontent among the staff. Not that these murmurs were any concern of the gang who, after the last bell, were taking their seats when Mr. Lassen came in and said.,"Not here, guys. This classroom is needed for a meeting." He motioned. Come on, we prepared a special place for you."

The group was led outside behind the school where the unused tool shed sat. A dingy wooden building surrounded by a sea of concrete. Several sturdy locks were on the outside of the door, prompting Nelson to say, "You are putting us in the shed?"

"According to the principal, two of you… I won't say which," Mr. Lassen explained, staring directly at the boys. "Are creating a cone of ignorance that is bringing down our test scores. This is for the safety of the school." He placed his hands on Sherri and Terri's shoulders. "Sorry you got wrapped up in this, ladies."

Carefully freeing themselves from his hold, they said, "Pretty sure this is a violation of our rights."

"Probably. Welcome to the real world," Mr. Lassen responded, ushering the four into the shed before locking the door behind them.

Terri was hit by an overpowering stench emanating from the bag of manure in the corner. "Ugh." She flipped the light switch, which did absolutely nothing. The bulb hanging from a single exposed wire had burned out a long time ago. From the sunlight streaming through the narrow window near the roof, they could see an old lawnmower with a rusted blade along with a pile of rusted tools either intended for shop class or Lassen's dungeon.

Feeling suffocated by the heavy air, Sherri waved a hand in front of her face. "I am going to die."

"Don't be so dramatic. This is the perfect temperature." Nelson said, taking a seat next to the lawnmower. He stretched. "Don't even need a fan."

Interested in the wire hanging from the ceiling, Bart stepped up to the light. "Are you a lizard?"

"I know you are, but what am I?"

"A lizard."

The back and forth repeated for a whole minute before Sherri got between them. "Can you not? My head already hurts."

Sitting, Terri leaned against the wall. "Strange. Here, I always assumed I was going to die during a conjugal visit with Ted Kaczynski."

"Boring. Bernardine Dohrn would be a much more passionate lover," Sherri said, flopping down on one of the closed bags of manure. She pulled off her turtleneck revealing an identical purple t-shirt underneath.

Confused, Bart said, "I have no clue who those people are." He had been preoccupied with figuring out what he had done wrong that morning.

Terri clicked her tongue. "How sad. I figured you, of all people, could appreciate the USA's rich history of homegrown terrorism."

Nelson scratched his cheek, not keen on another history lesson. "Any idea who the new girl is?"

"Nope, but apparently she is a real piece of work." Sherri said, having been gossiping with some of the other girls at lunch. "Got put in the hallway for refusing to read out loud."

The sound of footsteps approaching caused them to fall silent. The voice of Principal Ligotti filtered inside. "I can't believe it, on your first day back no less. What is your father going to say, young lady?"

Bart froze when the person being addressed responded. "Don't know. Don't care, but please do tell the rev to suck a lemon when you call him."

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up straight. He knew that voice anywhere. It sometimes haunted his dreams. "No way." He whispered, turning toward the door as it swung open.

All eyes were on the vile succubus herself, Jessica Lovejoy. His first, only, and what he had hoped would be his girlfriend. He learned the hard way that lurking behind her good looks and charms were the ambitions of a princess of hell. Although she liked to conceal her cruel intentions behind a thin veneer of civility. He thought he had survived his original encounter with her when Reverend Lovejoy shipped his troubled child back to boarding school.

Yet there she was, pretty as a painting with her straightened black hair stopping below her shoulder blades, long eyelashes, and domineering presence. Wearing a baggy windbreaker, an unbuttoned pink cardigan that was a bit too low to be within regulations, a pleated charcoal skirt, white legwarmers, and trademark pink bow, she was as radiant as ever.

Though something was different, made clear by when Jessica spun on a dime as the door closed behind her. Kicking the frame with her pink Mary Jane's, she yelled. "What the HELL is this!? It smells awful in here!" A major difference from the polite performance, Bart remembered her putting on. Breathing heavily, she carefully turned to see the rest of the room. "Oh my God, Bart?" Without missing a beat, she gracefully strode forward, almost pressing against him. "Hey, you look… good. Did you start working out?"

Confused about a sudden grinding she was hearing, Sherri looked to her left and saw Terri was ready to commit a murder. A thin bead of sweat formed on his brow. Bart took a nervous step back, holding both hands out. "H – Hey Jessica. Why are you here? I thought your folks dumped you off at that wicked girls' school?"

"Oh, they tried," Jessica said sweetly, closing in as she put a foot against the wall behind him; "Turns out starting a fire in the bathroom is illegal or something." Nelson was enraptured by her smooth leg as she continued to talk. "Then they sent me to Upward Bound. Too bad a counselor took a little tumble and split her head open."

Bart gulped nervously, not sure if he was supposed to feel so hot or if he was having a stroke. His dad had had a few and usually they started with a tingle in the arm. "Is that so?" He gestured to the rest. "You guys know Jessica, right? Reverend's daughter." His eyes were screaming, please help, she is going to kill me.

The twins remained impossible to read, but Nelson whistled. "Damn. I should start going to church."

"Skank." Terri coughed, not so subtly. She wasn't liking the situation one bit.

Jessica lowered her leg, exaggeratedly swaying her hips as she moved away from him. "Come on, Bart. Introduce me to your friends."

Her eyes drifted across the small space, stopping on Sherri, who got up. "I am Sherri. This is Terri. You might remember us."

"Can't say I do."

"We got kicked out for taking some, let's say, personal liberties when drawing the Crucifixion." Sherri reminded her, closing the gap between them. This time it was Jessica who was backing up. "Don't worry, I remember you, my sweet Jessica, which is all that really matters."

Bart and Nelson did not know what was happening, but leaned in with bated breath. Jessica bit her lower up. "Oh?"

"Oh yes. How could I forget the Reverend's neglected shame?" Sherri leaned closer, her mouth inches from Jessica's ear. "You were a baaaaad girl … And I liked it."

Nelson's eyes were bugging out of his skull. What a nice way to die. Bart's jaw could be located somewhere on the floor, tragically he was incapable of recovering it. Terri looked bored, staring at her fingernails.

Putting her hands behind her back, Jessica batted her eyelashes. "Are you going to punish me, Sherri?" A brief second of hesitation was all she needed to call the bluff. "I do remember you. Mackleberry right? Dad said we couldn't play together anymore because you were raised by heretical wild women working on behalf of the devil."

"It's been too long, Jess." Sherri smiled, regaining her composure. "I missed our tea parties."

"Me too."

Nelson couldn't take it anymore, running for the door. "It's too hot in here! I need some air!" He crashed head-first into the wood and fell backward.

Bart repeated the move, also bonking his head. Terri couldn't help but laugh. "Too much, guys? Heehee, a slumber party would kill you."

"Is that an invitation!?" they both exclaimed.

Jessica grinned, touching the hem of Sherri's shirt. "Glad to see you stuck with the purple. It looks cute on you." She ducked underneath the outstretched arm, fishing into her coat pocket to reveal a key. The master key, in fact, that she had deftly swiped from the principal's desk. "You losers plan to rot in here or we going to Krusty Burger?"

---

Freedom never tasted sweet after sweltering inside the hotbox. On route to the grease-stained tables and smudged windows of the local fast-food joint, Jessica took the time to do some catching up with Sherri. While Nelson did his best to not stare, Bart lagged behind, not exactly okay with these new developments.

Feeling a hand on his back, Bart jumped. Keeping her voice down so the others wouldn't hear, Terri asked, "You good?"

The two of them fell back, further letting their friends go ahead. Bart's gaze differed to his feet as he carefully stepped over a crack in the sidewalk. "Yeah, I guess. Just weird to see her back."

"Cause you guys dated?"

"Hell, I wish it was just that," Bart said bluntly. It might have been several years since his dalliance with Jessica, but he still had a few scars from wrecking his skateboard. "She was prepared to let a lynch mob kill my dumbass."

Terri obviously was not in the loop about the grim details. She was mainly bothered by his nervous expression, not used to seeing him lacking his trademark overconfidence. "Was she now?" It was sounding like another poppet was going to be an order. All she needed was a strand of black hair. "How bad? Worse than when you cut off Jebediah's head?"

Bart mulled over the question. He had pulled plenty of pranks that had resulted in the ire of the townsfolk. "You don't know? I thought everyone knew at this point."

He was surprised, causing her to say. "Legend has it if a Mackleberry woman steps inside a church, we burst into flames." She shrugged, adding. "Besides, everyone knows a black altar in your closest is far more efficient than prayer."

"Damn, I have been doing it wrong then." He scratched his chin. "Uhh and I'd say worse. It's hard to explain."

"Wanna bail? We could go finish our art project." Rumors were circulating that the notorious graffiti artist El Barto, who terrorized the respectable side of the community, had acquired a conspirator. Changes in the artistic style along with the addition of a strange sigil confirmed this for the police.

Bart shook his head. "Nah, we are gonna need darkness for that. Pigs will be watching that spot closely." Wary, his eyes flicked to the sidewalk. "Let's see where this goes. You'd believe me if I told you she was lying about anything, right?"

Terri's hand returned to his back, rubbing it. "Of course. She was Sherri's friend." There was a twinge of venom in her voice.

The local Krusty Burger was as disgusting as ever. Fingerprints were visible on the glass windows, suspicious stains on the sticky tile floor, flickering fluorescent lights, and as Nelson pointed out, a crusty smudge of mustard on the ceiling.

"Amazing. It somehow got worse." Jessica commented, impressed by how fast an economy could decline.

"Didn't you hear? Krusty got splattered in a drunk driving accident." Sherri said crassly, having wrongly assumed the rest of the country cared about the local entertainer. "Thirty-two clowns perished in that fire. Red noses littered the road."

Nelson shook his head, dismayed. "A tragedy. The Mel show just ain't the same."

"We weren't allowed to have contact with the outside world at U.B," Jessica explained choosing to leave out the specifics of her time at camp. She was favoring her right leg for good reason. "Wait then, why is this place still called Krusty Burger?"

"Owned by the studio. One penny from every purchase goes to Krusty's charity for orphans," Terri said as they approached the counter.

"By charity, they mean work camp." Bart clarified having fallen out of love with his former hero after hours of listening to Lisa rant about the darker side of the entertainer. "Pretty sure this place uses the same prison grade meat as school too. So you know you are getting every cent's worth."

There was a familiar face working the counter. At least familiar Bart who knew the outrageously spiky red hair anywhere, despite it being pressed down beneath a hat sporting the face of Krusty and the employee having their nose tucked in a thick book. "Damn Bob, you still here? I thought you got that job with the Shelbyville Opera Company?"

Bob, formerly Sideshow Bob, was an attempted murderer. Specifically, having spent several years trying to kill the one and only Bart Simpson. When his grand finale ended in failure on the lake, he suffered a nervous breakdown and decided revenge wasn't worth digging two graves to see through to its logical conclusion. After a few years under psychiatric evaluation concluded, he was fit to reintegrate into society with limits. He regularly had to report to a therapist and was actively monitored by the police. While an awkward relationship, the two got on okay, so he poked his head around the novel. "I did. But haven't you heard? The arts no longer pay the bills." He motioned, vaguely disgusted by his grim surroundings. "Therefore, I must slave away in the soul-crushing corporate monument to Krusty's ego."

Despite such a questionable past, Sherri and Terri were ecstatic to know Springfield's own locally sourced wannabe criminal mastermind. He was a hero to them, so giddily they asked, "Did you read our story, Mr. Terwilliger?"

Snapping his book shut, Bob was always enthusiastic about entertaining his very own fan girls. "Read it. Then reread it to truly make sure I could experience the dismemberment in its grisly glory." He placed his chin on his open palm, leaning on the counter. "I'd love to join you for tea one evening, to discuss the antagonists' methodology. I think I can offer some advice about his descent into madness."

They giggled softly, flattered by such an intelligent person's praise. Jessica, however, was starving and peering at the menu asked. "What on Earth is a Ribwich?"

"A testament to knuckle dragging morons of this town's willingness to eat any slop served to them." Bob said without an ounce of humor. "Responsible for more clogged arteries than bacon and processed cheese combined."

"I will take two," Jessica said flatly, "extra sauce."

"Enjoy the stroke," Bob muttered, adding it to their order, "and for the rest?"

Sherri and Terri whispered to each other for a few seconds, then said, "We want the spicy chicken lungs."

In a rare act of forethought, Bart warily watched his former enemy's face. "You know, I'm not sure I'm ready for you to handle my food, Bob."

"Ah come now. Killing you has lost most of its novelty. Surely you can understand what it is like to spend most of your life having to fill a single role without being allowed to grow as a person."

Bart actually did have a slight clue what that was like, having been pigeonholed as the class clown most of his life. He, however, was unconvinced. "Ssss. Yeah, see, you were very persistent. Which don't get me wrong, I respect but… Let me get a Partially-Gelatinated-Non-Dairy-Gum-Based-Beverage."

Terri seized the opportunity, putting arms around Bart's waist. "If you are worried about poisons, I could do a taste test."

"To think she would die for you," Sherri chortled, suppressing an urge to make fun of the futile attempts at flirting; "not too many girls will do that these days." It did not take Jessica long to ascertain the problem.

Fixing his reading glasses, even Bob could recognize a crush when he saw one. "See Bart? No problem, I couldn't hope to kill you if someone of a refined palette is splitting it with you."

The implications were lost on Bart, but he still absent-mindedly touched the pale wrist near his belt. "Sure, let's split a large."

"The diabetes deluxe it is," Bob said dryly, getting five cups for the party.

Remaining pressed against his back, Terri said, "See. Now imagine what else I could help you with."

"You are telling me, T. With these tiny hands, you could really help me clean the gutters." Bart said immediately, shattering any possibility of romance.

Jessica leaned over, whispering to Sherri, "Is your sister okay?"

Terri emitted a whine, releasing Bart, sulking backward, and Sherri responded, "What do you think? He's totally clueless."

"Don't give up. He is dumb but God, is he easy on the eyes," Jessica said, genuinely trying to be encouraging. Sherri felt ill at the suggestion. Why did everyone find Bart attractive when he was literally, at that very moment, coated in a thin layer of grime? Topped off by when he stuck a finger in his nose, then his ear without wiping it off.

"All I know is he better get a damn clue. I want that four hundred dollars," Nelson hissed, annoyed that his hope of financial gain was getting dashed. Their discussion was brought to an end when Bob looked at Nelson expectantly. He needed to order and putting his hand on his chin, he glanced at the twins. "Just to be sure you guys are paying, right?" They made non-committal mutterings, which caused him to say. "Great. I want: a Krusty Burger, a Krusty Burger with cheese, an order of breakfast balls, three cloggers, some Twisty Lard, Snout Snips, and a Double Double Double Double."

Everyone stared at him in stunned silence. Eventually, Bob said, "And should I dial 911 now or after you have collapsed on the floor?"

"You shouldn't call 911 at all. I don't got health insurance," Nelson retorted; "just toss me in the dumpster." He cast a quick glance at Sherri and Terri, who were smiling creepily at him. "Scratch that, bankruptcy is fine, but promise me you won't let them near my corpse."

They sat in a booth in the corner. Jessica found herself to be the primary attraction, since not much else happened in Springfield. It did not take long for the conversation to take a dark turn when Nelson said, "Upward Bound, right? My cellmate got sent there." He cracked his knuckles. "Not entirely sure what happened, but some counselor must have hit his head a bit too hard. Because he was grateful to be behind bars."

Jessica remained silent, picking at the skin around her nail. So Terri opted to change the subject. "Did you guys hear? The city council is going to vote on the old Burns manor."

"Hmm?" Bart raised an eyebrow, offering a sip to Terri, who made sure to take a long seductive one, licking the straw for good measure. Not that he noticed, rather was just relieved she didn't drop dead convulsing.

"They either are gonna auction the property, make it a museum, or tear it down," Terri explained, frustrated the object of her affections was not paying attention.

Sherri crossed her legs, leaning against the plastic booth. She smirked. "Doubt anyone is dumb enough to buy that haunted house."

There was a pause to get their food and as they sat again, Nelson dug into his multiple, glistening meals that took up the entire table, forcing everyone else to keep their trays on their lap as they looked on nervously. Through a mouthful of clogger, he said, "Torn apart by his own hounds. Bet that sucked."

Jessica unwrapped her Ribwich, covered in a brownish ooze that constituted a sauce. She was too enraptured by his gorging to take a bite. "I think we have an idea."

"Ehehe. They never found his remains either." Terri snickered oddly. She exchanged a look with her sister; the pair swapped to a series of words alien to the rest of their friend group. "Mishaben tan, ba bi bok muller." It was a combination of the Kalderash dialect their mother used at home and the secret twin language they created as children.

Sherri's eyes darted around. "Vaffadi mush, jawed." They continued to whisper in code. Jessica stared at them, puzzled. She did not remember them ever speaking like that when at Sunday School.

"They do this sometimes. You get used to it," Bart said, sipping on his shake. He could taste nothing poisonous at least.

"Hm." She pursed her lips, fascinated that the boy she toyed with actually somehow made friends. Taking a bite out of the glistening meat, Jessica gagged. "Urk. It's like…" she trailed off, not even sure how to describe the metallic taste.

Eyeing the sandwich in her hand, Nelson said, "If you don't want it."

"I haven't eaten since I got home. Fuck off." Jessica retorted harshly, snapping the twins out of their quiet discussion. She shoved the whole glob of processed animal intestines into her mouth, swallowing with some struggle.

Picking up on a deeply rooted hostility, the twins asked. "What is that? Trouble in the good reverend's household." They giggled sweetly, filing the new information under rumors to be spread in the back of their minds.

Bart raised an eyebrow. "Since you got home? When was that?"

"Doesn't matter. I won't sit in the same room as those cunts who dumped me off at that camp ." Jessica hissed, clutching her sandwich until the brownish fluid spilled over the sides, dribbling on the wrapper. Muttering under her breath. "Bastards shaved my head."

Sherri had a novel idea, leaning closer to the girl. "Wanna get even? Disrupting the status quo." She gestured to the rest present. "Is our specialty."

Terri leaned forward to see past her sister. "Not to mention screw the Church. We lost a lot of good witches because of them."

"It is convenient you came now. We had an opening in targets." Bart said, acting like a secretary as he pulled out a notepad from his jean pocket. Flipping a page, he eyed her. She definitely was behaving differently from the ruthless vixen who had thrown* him under the bus.

Jessica stared back, clearly having a similar thought. "You would help me? Just like that even after I…" She shrugged. "You know."

Terri looked at Bart, who still did not seem entirely comfortable despite his forthrightness, then back to their childhood friend. "He's willing to help. Not date you again." Her eyes narrowed. "Let's be clear if you try anything. I will make you regret it."

"Protective are we?" Jessica said smugly, not interested in reigniting that old flame in the slightest. "You have nothing to worry about, Terri. I won't interfere with your love for our mutual doofus."

In an incredible display of ADHD, Bart missed the entire sentence aside from the last word, which caused him to look up from the cockroach he was watching skitter over the floor. "You love a doofus, T?" It was news to him. "Who? That quiet kid who does puzzles in the library and wears tight pants?"

"Langdon Alger!? Eww no, he's a huge dweeb!" Terri screamed, shielding her face by placing it on the table.

"Hmm, who else do I know?" Bart was dumbfounded. He wanted to help if he could. "Oh, my god, is it Milhouse?"

Another pained whimper left her lips, and Nelson almost spit up his food, choking on his laughter. Eventually, he pointed and cough out the words. "Haw-Haw! Terri loves Milhouse!"

Sherri shook her head, joining the ribbing. "Nah, Milhouse is a bit too bright for this guy." She gave Nelson a smirk. "Thinking too broad, Bart. This guy is a total doofus. Completely oblivious, bet you would never guess."

Pretending that he had just figured out the secret, Nelson put an arm on Bart's shoulder. "I think I got a theory. If you seriously want to he–"

A foot connected with his shin, and Terri shot up again. "Stop it! The both of you! We are worried about Jessica, not me!"

"Okay, whatever you say." Sherri said, giving her sister a nudge with her knee. She turned back toward her childhood friend."Anyway, Jess. What do you think? Are we getting the band back together?" She ran her fingers through the girl's silky black hair.

It had been a long, long time since Jessica had been around someone she felt she could trust. Even if she wasn't prepared to take that leap of faith. "Fine, I guess."

"How would you feel about some petty vandalism? I hear the Church has gotten a new organ. Perhaps we should make some changes to the keys."

Jessica shook her head. "Dad would be mad, but it wouldn't bother him." A thought occurred to her, and she smiled ominously. "There is only one thing my father loves besides mom. His model trains." Her eyes moved to the table, and a pit formed in her stomach. The Ribwich was wreaking havoc on her intestines. "He likes to talk to them." There was a sadness in her tone, a rare moment of vulnerability for a girl who preferred to keep everyone at arm's length. Being emotionally neglected by a parent was something each person present could empathize with. Troubled products of their upbringing, victims of a culture that asserted parenthood was simply a matter of ownership.

"Perfect. An expensive hobby makes things simple." Terri snickered, weighing their options.

Sherri didn't need to think about it, snapping her fingers. "Easy. His trains are a false idol, let's give him a proper sign from God." She pointed across the table. "We will need your blow torch, Nelson."

"Aye, boss," He said between bites.

Somewhat concerned, Jessica said. "Wait. You aren't going to like burn anything down, are you? Cause I am pretty sure I'd get tried as an adult."

"Nothing so brutish." Sherri reassured her. "We can discuss the details of our magnum opus later, right now, our primary concern is reminding the reverend he has a daughter." She already had something else in mind for that, which also worked well with her intentions. "You want to have a sleepover?"

Jessica cocked her head, unimpressed. "A sleepover? What are we ten?" Returning to her arrogant front, she pulled away. "Look, it is nice to see you ag—"

"Did you not miss me? I waited for you…" Sherri mewled. For once, she was offering a genuine emotion that was not a performance.

Shifting uncomfortably at not being able to set the pace of the relationship, Jessica looked down at the table. "It's complicated."

"Is it? Fine, then let's think about it a different way," Sherri said, not willing to let their friendship fall victim to another cliffhanger. "You can try to go it alone and climb the social ladder." She leaned closer; "I give you a month. Everyone at this table used to be popular… Well, aside from Bart."

"Hey!" Bart protested. "I was cool!"

"Yeah, as cool as crabs," Nelson said, swallowing. He punched his chest once, feeling his arteries clogging in real-time. "Sherri is right, though. It's a jungle out there. Sara's clique will destroy you."

Still unconvinced, Jessica crossed her arms. "I can handle some fourth rate mean girl. I am the original bitch."

"Originality doesn't mean shit." Nelson said gruffly. He pointed to a series of Indian burns on his forearm. "Got these from my old crew yesterday. I also thought I could go it alone, then got jumped by four of those assholes." His fall from grace was punctuated by a flurry of punches and swearing.

Sherri nodded. "Public school is the real bitch."

"We're a gaggle of freaks, but at least none of us are going to stab each other." Terri concluded, putting her shoe deftly against Bart's own, as if to remind him of the same. "Maybe."

He bobbed his head left, then right, shrugging. "They have a point, Jess. I am willing to consider the whole collection plate thing water under the bridge if you are."

Jessica was finding it difficult to process through the barrage of turbulent emotions. Her brain, heart, and stomach were not exactly being helpful. Though the lingering thought in the back of her mind was, it would be nice to not be alone again. Steeling her doubts, she exhaled. "You know what? Fuck it, I am done trying to be perfect." She looked over. "And cause fuck my dad. "

Bart cracked a smile. "I'd prefer not to. He's not my type." He slapped Nelson's back. "This guy loves the godly men."

Nelson punched him in response. Sherri was relieved. "I am glad…" She hurried the conversation along. "Tomorrow night work for you?"

"Not quite. There is going to be a logistic issue." Jessica said, a weight lifted from her shoulders. "I have a curfew. Can't be out of the house after seven."

"Sneak out," Nelson said, like it was obvious.

"Already did. Now I have bars on my room window," Jessica clarified.

Bart brandished a screwdriver, putting it on the table. "Loosen them."

Jessica scoffed, "Come on now, who do you take me for? I already have, but if I am not in bed when Mom does her midnight sweep, it's going to be this whole dramatic episode."

"Yeesh. Thank God my mom gave up on me a long time ago," Nelson said, suddenly developing an appreciation for his rough upbringing.

"Here, here." Bart agreed, offering his fist. They bumped. "Once your parents stop loving you, things get way easier." His jovial attitude was a protective shroud that concealed the intense self-hatred that simmered in the back of his mind.

Jessica put an elbow on the table. "That would make things simpler. Dad already pretends I do not exist, and Mom constantly noses through my stuff like I am a criminal." She removed her pink bow, making a fist around it. "They only act like they love me around their friends."

In the process of inhaling his two Krusty burgers, Nelson stopped. "It's cause you are a girl." Swallowing, he continued the train of logic. "Everyone knows families put more effort into raising a daughter. Boys chucked out the window the moment we walk. Girls have it easy by comparison."

A mistake. A grievous error in judgment. The utter buffoon had just said the worst thing he could have to three girls. Terri was the first to object. "You think we have it easy?"

Bart scooted to the edge of their booth in case anything was thrown. He did not want to be in the splash zone. Nelson crossed his arms, undeterred. "Yeah. All you have to do is look pretty, be polite and everyone does whatever you want." He jerked a thumb at himself. "My dad went to get a pack of smokes when I was eleven and I never saw him again. I got arrested for the first time when I was twelve. No one gave a rat's ass. My mom let me spend the night in that hole."

"Girls get abandoned too, jackass," Sherri said, slapping both hands on the table as she partially stood up. "What happened to you was bullshit! But don't think we have it any easier!"

Nelson was about to speak, but Terri cut him off. "You literally have no idea how hard it is to be pretty or polite." There was an iciness to her tone that aided the point she was making. "At best it's exhausting. At worst, you go nuts or get killed." Words spoken from experience. At least the going nuts part. "So shut up. You wouldn't last a day in our shoes."

Jessica had nothing to say, however, Bart did. Taking over his role as a sort of de facto leader, he stuck a hand between the three. "Jesus, it's not a competition, guys. Life sucks for everyone. Let's move on."

"Wow, Bar,." Jessica said, surprised by his measured tone. She seductively ran a finger over her lower lip, eyes fixed on him. "You are so much more mature since we last hung out."

A murderous gleam returned to Terri's eyes. Although she had absolutely nothing to worry about because Bart still did not register any attempt at seduction. Instead, he blandly said, "The puberty demon came and walloped me with the ole depression mallet." Then shrugged. "Everyone wants to kill themselves these days, so might as well be nice to people."

"Sorry, that isn't allowed," Terri interjected, putting her hands together on the table. "Remember our arrangement."

"Yeah, yeah. Can't kill myself in a sick motorcycle stunt unless you get to keep the corpse. Working on it, I swear," Bart said jokingly.

Sherri turned back to Jessica. "Anyway. We can break you out, don't worry."

Unconvinced, their new conspirator made a face. "Alright, your funeral."

---

They finished their food and left the restaurant to loiter in the parking lot, like all cool kids do. Jessica and Sherri ironed out some specifics related to the plan's timeframe. Nelson took a well-earned smoke break, massaging his bruised ego. Not that he was mad, merely getting used to people arguing with him.

Which left Bart and Terri leaning against the wall watching several cars idle at the drive-in. She offered him a stick of pink bubble gum. "Uh… Sorry. We sometimes forget we're cool with boys now. Didn't mean to overdo it."

"You kidding? Friendship is all about being dicks to each other," Bart said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "It's a blast. We can yell, fight, and curse with no one getting their feelings hurt." He gave an exaggerated wink. "Not to mention I like girls who have a spine."

Terri looked at him, her enormous eyes glittering with hope. So much hope that they almost popped clean out of her skull as she said, "Y—you do!?" She had spent so long without a backbone that she would have to find a steel rod to replace her old one.

"Oh yeah, you ever try getting with a girl without one? Total mess, slides everywhere." Bart said, dashing her hopes of a simple romantic situation.

Dejected, she sighed. "Funny." Nearly a year and a half of dropping hints, only for each one to be shot down. She was running out of ways to make her intentions clear.

"Thanks. That joke is part of some new material I am working on," Bart said.

Suddenly feeling very drained, Terri rubbed her arm. "Well, we better go. I got a date with my pillow but… I'll call you tonight."

She walked over to her sister, and Bart couldn't help but feel like he missed something important. So he sat down next to Nelson. "I think I upset her."

Taking a drag, his friend paused. "Still can't see it, huh?"

"See what?"

"Christ, she deserves better. This is painful." Nelson said, disliking the sullen expression on Terri's face. "Swing by my place tomorrow and I am going to spell the whole thing out for you."

---

The following night, an hour before the agreed-upon time, Jessica was doing her best to pretend she was studying in the dining room. Instead of reviewing the exciting world of cellular biology, she was engrossed in the latest Girlz Life magazine, detailing the latest trends. The miracle of life could not hope to compete with a quiz about what kind of boys she liked. Questions that were proving harder to answer than she thought they would, as she chewed on her eraser.

Admittedly, her little ruse probably would have worked better had Jessica not been upside down in her seat with her left leg crooked at a ninety-degree angle. The odd position was meant to conceal the packed overnight bag underneath the dining room chair as she waited to be sprung from her entrapment.

Sherri had not given many details, but it sounded like she planned to waltz right up the front door and tell a convincing story to free Jessica. Unfortunately for the trapped girl, that meant being at the mercy of her parents until the time came. A grating reality as her mother, Helen, poked her withered old head around the doorway leading into the kitchen. Peering down her narrow nose at her daughter, she invoked her most judgemental tone. "What a strange way to study. You sure you wouldn't be more comfortable in your room?"

"I tried studying in my room, and got a D, remember? Clearly wasn't getting enough blood to my head," Jessica responded disinterestedly. Making eye contact was a surefire way to get lectured about her moral failures. She turned the page, yawning.

"Mhmm. You sure your grades aren't slipping because of whoever left that shameful bruise on your neck?"

There was a harshness to her prudish words that caused Jessica to fix her collar so it concealed the hickey. "Surprised you can see it through those cataracts," She grumbled.

Helen put a hand near her ear. "I am sorry. What was that, young lady?"

"Nothing, mom."

"Mhmm. What I thought."

Thankfully, the doorbell rang before a proper argument could start. Having been engrossed with the latest issue of Cabooses Illustrated, a sister publication to Gigantic Asses Weekly, Timothy Lovejoy was displeased to be interrupted. He muttered to himself, "Now who could that be?" He was not in the mood for games, so when he opened the door to find Sherri and Terri standing there smiling ghoulishly, his demeanor shifted to one of patriarchal sternness. "Can I help you?"

Without even blinking, they said together, "We are here to pick up Jessica." Hearing them, she leaned out from behind the wall, bag in hand. If need be, she would bolt.

Mr. Lovejoy remained stoic, even though he was deeply displeased about Mackleberry's being on his property. A sin in the eyes of the lord for certain. "I am afraid my daughter will not be going anywhere tonight. She is grounded." He saw a white Camry idling near the mailbox. Inside Jerri was grading tests.

He started to shut the door, but Sherri stuck her foot out, stopping it from closing all the way. "Did Jessica not tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"Tonight is our big Knowledge Bowl cram sesh. She is our team captain, so it's kind of important that she comes." The lie smoothly rolled off Sherri's tongue as naturally as breathing; "with a little luck, we might make nationals."

This was news to Mr. Lovejoy, who looked back, right, and passed his daughter to Helen. "Did you know about this?"

Helen shook her head, walking to the door. "Hmm. I didn't. Jessica, is this true?"

"Uhh… Yeah. I must have forgotten to tell you… You know, with all the studying," Jessica said she was a tad rusty. It had been a while since she had to lie to her parents.

Mr. Lovejoy was unconvinced as he pushed past the twins. "I am going to speak to your mother."

"Okay. Just be careful, Mr. Lovejoy. She has had a long day," Terri said cheekily.

Helen trailed her husband, and Jessica approached. "Is this part of the plan?"

"It was her idea." The twins smirked, exuding an ocean of overconfidence that threatened to swallow the entire suburb.

The Lovejoys walked to the driver's side of the car. The window was rolled down and a discussion ensued. Jerri had little to say, tapping her finger against the steering wheel, and after a few minutes, the Lovejoys walked back toward the house.

Without even speaking to Jessica, they went inside and the last thing the three girls heard was Helen saying. "She is always such a bitch. Who does she think she is? Telling us to read the PTA flyer."

"Wha— What?" Jessica asked, having never heard her mom swear in her life.

"Hehe. What did we tell you? Dey is the master." Sherri laughed, forever grateful their mother was way cooler than the other housewives in the hell known as suburbia.

Piling into the backseat, Jessica found a twin on either side. "Uh… Thank you, Mrs. Mackleberry."

The Macktriarch looked at her through the mirror. "Jerri. Gazhe don't need to worry about my marriage." She corrected, putting her papers on the passenger seat. "I told your parents that the first competition is next Sunday. I suggest you stay out of your house between nine and one."

"Umm…" Jessica was at a loss for words.

"Don't misunderstand. I didn't lie to you. Prods, especially those of the cloth, are no friends of our family," Jerri clarified cryptically, as she pulled the car onto the road. There was a palpable bitterness to her speech, cultivated by decades of religious accusations hurled at the Mackleberry clan.

On queue, Sherri reached over and touched Terri's hand. They recited the nursery rhyme every member of the family knew by heart:

"I have a deadly nightshade

So twisted does it grow-

with berries black as midnight—"

Terri spoke the second verse:

"And a skull as white as snow

The deacon's cocky young son

Came to drink my tea—"

Jerri smiled faintly, glad she raised her girls right, and concluded the poem.

"He touched me without asking

now he's buried 'neath a tree."

The twins cackled hysterically at the morbid tale. While Jessica felt she had a better idea why her father called these women 'wild.' She breathed a deep sigh, able to relax at last.

---

Sherri and Terri's room was appropriately creepy, like the rest of their house. Split down the middle, each side mirror the other. Two identical, parallel twin beds with pink sheets, purple blankets, and weirdly identical mutilated stuffed animals forming a protective circle around the brass legs. Each side had a pink bean bag, one near the door, the second near the window. There were two waist-high bookshelves, each weighted down with old tomes of centuries long passed. The dividing line was marked by a dark wood writing desk that sat directly underneath a creepy painting of a hairy arm reaching its snarled fingers out from a crack in a tile wall. Assumedly, this was something the twins shared, given it was covered in papers and had two separate ink pots with a quill dipped inside. Noting the polished skull sitting next to an hourglass that had purple granules of sand, Jessica picked it up curiously. "So… Friend of yours?"

"Old boyfriend." Sherri smirked.

Jessica felt something hairy brush against her finger and looked down to see a cobalt blue tarantula prodding her with its front legs. She shrieked, tossing the skull. Terri shot forward, catching it in the air and saving their pet from certain death. "Relax, Jess. It's Lenore." She snickered softly, letting the spider crawl onto her arm. It settled comfortably on her shoulder. "She is our second oldest and dearest friend."

"Second oldest?" Jessica asked warily, wondering if she overlooked how strange the twins were when they were younger.

"You can leave your bag on my bed. We will introduce you," Sherri said, leaving with her sister.

Jessica was about to ask which bed was hers, but upon closer inspection saw that the separate sections weren't identical. On her right, closest to the window, there were several posters for Nirvana, and White Zombie with a military surplus trunk at the foot of the bed that was stacked high with old cassette tapes. Terri's side. There was no doubt about it.

While on her left was a smaller glass case featuring a handful of golden awards for academics. It was Sherri's side of the room, so Jessica tossed her bag onto the bed and ran to catch up with the twins, who had ascended another set of stairs to the attic. Like the rest of the house, it had an inexplicable eeriness to it. Numerous cobwebs lined the rafters, and tons of boxes were all around, but she was unnerved to find a massive pentagram chalked that covered the entire floor.

However, before she could ask about this protective symbol, Terri proclaimed, "Meet Howard and Edgar!" Her hand was held out toward an ancient, stubby, two-headed tortoise. Large enough that if it was to stand up, it would come to slightly above the center of the girls' shins. It was seated comfortably on an embroidered cushion with gold tassels, munching on some lettuce. Howard and Edgar's beaks were well worn, their shell a unique fusion of black and orange tinge with a thick grimoire strapped on top by a leather belt, and finally, four white eyes indicating the creature was blind. An intelligent animal, it had been alive when the first colonists arrived in the world. Revered as a wise elder and matrilineally inherited, the tortoise had traveled with the Mackleberry family as they made the journey from one coast of the fledgling country to the other.

Kneeling, Sherri rubbed the tortoise's neck. "Legend has it our great, great, great, great, great Bába Merri Mackleberry found them as a hatchling."

"Ew, does it bite?" Jessica asked, crouching next to her.

"Sometimes. If you sneak up on them," Terri said, reaching for a bell that was sitting nearby. "That is why it's customary to ring something before touching them. They guard the book." She did not elaborate on what the tome was exactly. Though it filled Jessica with a strong sense of dread. Within the family, it was thought to have been written by a mad Arab eons ago. Arcane knowledge of an unseen world.

Jessica didn't feel inclined to touch the decrepit animal and the three girls went back downstairs, ending their little tour in the basement. Flopping onto the couch, she said, "This is a slumber party right? Is anyone else coming?"

Sherri and Terri looked at each other, then shrugged. "Nope. There was some unpleasantness the last time we had guests."

"I see."

---

At the same time as the girls were awkwardly navigating a teenage reunion, Bart was getting down to what really mattered. Smoking a whole gram's worth of marijuana with the cockroaches that infested Nelson's shack skittering around. Who was popping the tab on a can of Duff, satisfied by the hiss. "Milton's parents say he should be discharged tomorrow. Assuming the infection doesn't go to his brain," Nelson said.

He had been attempting to make the rundown shack he called home a nicer place for his mom, who was taking a vacation to visit some family upstate. The raggedy carpet had already been ripped up and replaced with hardwood floors, which were easier to keep clean. Nelson had been taking on the project all alone. Poverty made a kid resourceful. He was even applying a fresh coat of paint to the walls as well, but that job was only partially complete. To that end, a plastic tarp was laid near the edges, and a few unopened buckets were sitting on the floor.

The worn couch underneath Bart had been reupholstered already to be a nice bronze tone, complimenting the rustic vibe of the place. Lighting the tip of his freshly rolled join, he sunk into the comfortable folds. "Eh, he's survived way worse. Like when he was dared to jump off the dam."

A pungent aroma filled the living room as Nelson took a drink. "True. It's nice having someone around who can take a punch without crying."

"Geez, man, I only cried once. It hurt."

"No, it didn't. You are just a baby." Nelson snorted, rolling his eyes. The microwave dinged and returned with pizza rolls. "You crashing here tonight?"

Bart inhaled deeply, trying to do his best to relax. "Yeah. Don't think I handle sitting through another one of Homer's drunken rants about how I am a screwup."

"Shit sucks," Nelson said, sympathetically. He swatted at the hand that was stealthily trying to take his dinner. "You can sleep here. Not eat my food."

"Damn, you just gonna do me like that?" Bart asked, retracting his hand. "I am about to get stoned off my ass. You seriously think I can make it to the Kwik-E-Mart on my own?"

"Should have thought of that before starting to smoke," Nelson responded, not exactly the world's best host. "Hold on." He snatched the joint. "Before we get too comfortable. Did you figure out why Terri was upset?

"Uhhhhh." Bart closed his eyes, trying to do some last-minute algorithms about the enigma of the female mind. An impenetrable void of complexity, there was absolutely no way he could possibly understand what he missed. When he took too long, a fist connected with his upper arm, causing him to jump up. "No! I have no idea!"

Nelson groaned, not surprised in the slightest. "Alright, one second." He vanished into the hallway, then came back, pushing a whiteboard on wheels. "Stole this from the teacher's lounge." He picked up a red marker, popping the cap off. "Sit. We are going to start from the beginning, so I can make damn sure you know how close you are to ruining a good thing." He paused, thinking. "For the record, I double checked some of this with Ralph, so you know it's sound." The marker was pressed against the board and the lesson started.

---

Back at the Mackleberry manor, the ice was finally being broken and Jessica was, much to her internal chagrin, starting to her guard. The overt homoeroticism of An Interview with a Vampire was only gimped by the poor image quality on the pirated tape Terri had found when nosing through the local comic book shop, the Android's Dungeon.

"Okay. I am just going to say it. I'd let Lestat do whatever he wanted to me," she said sprawled out on the couch while Jessica and Sherri sat on the floor doing each other's hair. Everyone was nice and comfortable in their pajamas. Lenore the tarantula had caught a horsefly and left to enjoy her meal back at her nest.

"But Louis is so tragic," Jessica opined, having never seen any film quite like it. Filth would be the exact word her mother would use to describe the sexual subtext. "Don't you want to help him get revenge?"

Sherri stopped braiding the rivers of black hair for a second. "You both are wrong. Claudia threw away a good thing," she tittered; "with a child's body, no one would suspect a thing."

Utility over romance was her motto. Footsteps were heard on the stairs, and in a rare event, it was not Jerri but Barry, the mysterious father of the household. His blonde hair was slicked down, glinting in the light and he was wearing a dark brown single-breasted trench coat belted at the waist that descended past his knees where a pair of hefty combat boots were visible. "Is there room for one more down here?" He asked sweetly.

Sherri and Terri shot up. "Da!" They rushed to hug him, and he got down on one knee to take one in each arm.

Jessica watched disdainfully, a pit forming in her stomach. This patriarch certainly did not look a thing like his daughters. For one, he was way less pale. He squeezed them both tightly. Once he finished, Sherri asked, "I thought you weren't getting back for a few more days."

"Herman and I caught a break," Barry said, reaching into his coat to take out a single photograph; "have a look at this."

Terri took the picture while studying it with her sister. At first glance, the photo was a nature shot of the Springfield Gorge, but on closer inspection there was a smooth, oval shaped floating just off center. "You got evidence!" She exclaimed.

Following a UFO sighting during the night shift at the Nuclear Plant, Barry quit his job as the supervisor of Sector 7-G to devote himself full-time to the pursuit of the supernatural. He smiled, taking it back. "We cross-referenced it using Herman's radar. There were no known flights in the region at the time. He is going to check with NICAP and see if anyone else reported anything that night."

"That is so cool!" Sherri declared, as he sat on the couch with them.

He crossed his leg, nodding to Jessica. "Hello. Your Lovejoy's daughter, right?" She nodded, giving an awkward wave, unable to formulate a proper response. "Welcome to our home. It is always nice to have guests."

"How is Kàko Herman, da? Dey says he has been very busy." Terri asked. The one-armed, standoffish owner of the military antique store was their godfather.

"Oh you know, same ole same ole. He is convinced some MiBs have bugged his phone." Barry said happy to spend time with his kids. "And I believe him. COINTELPRO is very much still active." He moved the conversation along. "So how was school?" They filled him in on their day. He listened intently as Sherri talked about how detention was held in the shed and was engaged when Terri rambled about her inability to get Bart's attention. When she finished, Barry shrugged. "I was doubtlessly as ignorant when I was his age. Fortunately, Jerri knew exactly what she wanted." He put a hand on her back. "Give him some time. Bart is a good guy. He will come around." He looked at the third girl in the room. "How about you Jessica? How was school?"

"Why do you want to know?" She asked, misinterpreting his intentions as hostile.

"No reason. I like to know my girls' friends is all."

Jessica twitched, and she kept her eyes forward. "Uh… It was fine. Failed a pop quiz in Algebra."

Barry laughed. "Take it from me. You can succeed in life without those goofy letters masquerading as numbers." He married a smart woman, so he did not need to think about finances. He stuck around for another fifteen minutes, engaging with his kids about their lives, before standing up. "Well, I promised Jerri we would have a moonlight picnic in the woods. If you guys get hungry there is some blood pudding in the fridge and just between you and me, a little cheesecake left in the freezer."

He left the three alone. Before Sherri and Terri could take out the VHS, Jessica had tears in her eyes, muttering. "Guess that is what it is like."

Confused, Sherri came back over, sitting next to her upset friend. "Jess? What is the matter?"

"Oh, nothing!" She declared, wiping her eyes. Something was definitely wrong. "I was just thinking about how nice it must be to have a father who cares about you." She was breathing erratically, unable to control her distress. "My father would rather play with his stupid trains then talk to me."

As concerned, Terri turned off the television sitting down next to it. "Da isn't perfect. He wasn't home for our birthday last year." Specifically, he had forgotten her birthday, and only had a present for Sherri when he arrived the next day.

"How awful!" Jessica exclaimed sarcastically. "My dad comes to my birthdays, then just talks to his friends instead. I might as well not exist!" It was too late to get control of herself now. Choked up she fanned her face. "The only time he cared was when mom was screaming I might be pregnant."

She jerked away when Sherri scooted closer, putting a motherly arm around her. "Shh… Shh. It's okay, Jess."

"No, it's not! I am unwanted garbage!"

This caused Sherri to frown. "You aren't. There is nothing wrong with you, Jess." She mistakenly brushed against Jessica's left shoulder blade, causing the girl to gasp as if in pain. "Oops. Did that hurt?"

There was a silence punctuated by crying. Jessica pulled her head into her pajamas, so only the top of it was visible. Then whispered. "The counselors at Upward Bound… would burn their cigarettes on us if we didn't wear our uniforms, correctly."

Sherri's eyes widened, and Terri gasped. "They didn't!"

The floodgates were opening. Long buried traumas about her two years away from home poured from Jessica's mouth. She didn't want to revisit them, but the safe feeling she had in the Mackleberry house compelled her to spill her guts. Sherri and Terri sat silently as she told a harrowing story of the horrific conditions at the camp for troubled teens. Her head was shaved, possessions confiscated, she spent days in solitary, and was regularly forced to take part in group circles that only wanted to lecture her about how her body was sinful.

Shaking, she sobbed, "One time I used the wrong fork at the table, and they stabbed it into my hand. I had to go to the nurse."

Mortified, Terri was aghast. "I…" She couldn't even imagine what to say.

Far from done, Jessica continued her tale. "They would check our BMI's every week to make sure we weren't getting fat. A lot of girls skipped meals or threw them up."

This struck too close to home for Sherri, and she gritted her teeth. "Monsters."

Jessica felt sick. Snot was everywhere, but she no longer cared. "My bunkmate tried to kill herself. But they stopped her and locked her up in solitary for a month. When those bastards let her out, she was not the same." Poking out of her protective shell briefly, the distraught girl whimpered. "Madison was a kind, gentle person. She was only there because her parents caught her with another girl… Well, I hope they fucking enjoy their box. Because she jumped off the main building a week later."

"How did you get out?" Terri asked, feeling like she could not breathe. It was rare for Mackleberry women to lose their temper, but when it happened, they made sure no one forgot. Her cheeks were flushed with anger.

There was another prolonged silence as Jessica collected herself. Sniffling, she said, "I shoved the headmistress down the stairs." Trying to explain, she stuttered. "She kept hitting Gina!" Then her demeanor darkened dramatically. "I hope that evil bitch never walks right again."

Letting her press into her chest, Sherri tenderly said, "It's okay. No one is going to hurt you here. I promise."

---

Bart sat in stunned silence, staring at the covered whiteboard. Every bit of blank space had been filled in, starting with his earliest interactions with Terri. Most of the center was comprised of fourth grade alone. Flabbergasted, he tried to find his words. "Wait…. So volunteering me to run for class president?"

"Prank, yes, but she only did it because she likes you dingus."

"Giving me the wrong answers on my test?"

"I know it's hard to believe, but because she likes you."

Bart was sliding down the couch in a state of shock. "But… But she and Sherri always called me stupid."

Nelson rubbed the back of his eyelids. "Once again. That is how girls show interest."

"Wait!" Bart jolted. "Does this mean all those times kissing me weren't just to spread cooties!?"

"Yes, Bart. That is exactly what I am saying."

Jumping to his feet in a panic, Bart rubbed his hands anxiously. "Does this mean when we were watching Hellraiser II and her shirt was kind of open, so I could see her bra. It wasn't because she was hot?"

Nelson slapped his face in a state of disbelief. "You gotta be kidding me…" He punched the board out of sheer frustration, causing it to spin. "No, it wasn't because she was hot. She was clearly expecting you to get a fucking clue!" He heard the door slam and took a minute to realize he was standing in his living room by himself. "Hey, you don't have a car, stupid!" He shouted, rushing after his friend.

---

In the blink of an eye, Jessica found herself swaddled by the fluffiest blanket the twins could find. A box of tissues was on her right. They also brewed a warm cup of peppermint tea for her which was resting at her feet. She took a deep breath, feeling cried out for the evening. "When I got home. Mom and Dad were on vacation in Istanbul or something. I guess without me, their lives were that much better." She mumbled quietly.

"That hardly matters. What they did was wrong" Sherri said ,having not left her old friend's side the entire time. "There is nothing wrong with you, Jessica. Some people just shouldn't be parents."

Terri was busy sorting through their horror movie collection to find something that would be appropriate for the mood. "Like seriously, it's incredible you survived… all that." She found what she was looking for, the pirated copy of Bram Stoker's Dracula. "We need to make sure they suffer."

"And we will," Sherri said in complete agreement. "No one hurts our friends without paying for it."

Jessica blew her nose. Reaching for the teacup, she shakily nursed it. "I am not asking you guys to do that."

Sherri crossed her arms. "I know. We want to. Adults need to learn. You reap what you sow." She brought her feet up, laying her legs across Jessica's lap. "You don't have to worry about a thing. Leave it to us."

"No, let me help," she said, instantly gripping the ceramic cup. "But forget my parents. I want to make sure U.B gets shut down."

Terri looked back. "What did you have in mind?"

Jessica stared into her tea. "I don't know. Let me see if I can track down Gina. We split at the train station." She tapped a finger thoughtfully. "I still have a few pipe bombs in my dresser."

"Let's hold on to those. Never know when you will need an explosive," Sherri said jokingly, not keen on going to prison for domestic terrorism. "If you want to find Gina, that is cool, but for now I want you to relax. Let me worry about revenge. Your life starts now."

It was strange to hear, and Jessica was not sure what to say. After a few seconds, she decided. "Thank you… I mean it."

"Don't mention it," the twins responded, both raising thumbs up.

Shoving in the new VHS Terri tried to lighten the mood. "Since you liked Interview with a Vampire so much… You are going to love this."

Jessica was intrigued. "Is it … sexy?"

"You will see… hehe."

---

"We need to find a flower shop!" Bart cried as they sped around town.

"I keep telling you, it's 10:00p.m! They are all closed!" Nelson shouted as his leaning tower of phone books that kept his head above the dash slid, almost causing them to drive into oncoming traffic.

"Come on, plenty of men have upset their wives at this hour! What about the outlet mall?!"

"That is like a two-hour drive!"

Bart knocked his head against the window. "Uhhh! I am going to blow it!" He smacked his head a second time, then shot up. "That is it! The cemetery!"

Nelson looked to his right. "What?"

"She likes black roses. Way I figure it, we swipe some corpse's flowers and go to the hardware store for spray paint." Bart said, putting together the plan in his head.

"Huh. Grave robbing. Haven't done that in a while." Nelson muttered, stepping on the gas.

---

The sleepover gradually wound down and after a few unglamorous yawns, Terri opted to turn in for the night. She left Sherri and Jessica alone talking softly in the blue glow of the television, climbed back upstairs, and crawled into bed. Although after such a heartbreaking story, she had little luck falling asleep. Too bad that even it could not compete with the true source of her teenage angst. Namely, the reality that her crush was not responding to anything she did. Trapped in does he like me, does he not limbo her stomach churned. Rolling onto her side, she sighed despondantly. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe the arcade had been a fluke, and Bart was not interested.

Fortunately, Terri would get the answer when a rock clinked against her bedroom window. At first, she ignored it, but when a chunk of cinder block slammed against the window-rattling the house, she climbed out of bed to see what was all the fuss. Pulling back the Gothic curtains, she peered down and saw in the dim, orange glow of the streetlight a very sweaty Bart standing on their lawn.

Now she understood. Despite not feeling tired, she had dozed off and was having the same stupid dream she had every night. Like always, Bart was there, concealing one hand behind his back. She grumbled, choosing to play along. There was no harm in a little fantasizing after all, and opened her window. "Heeey, Bart." Something was different, though. Normally in the dream, he rode in on a white stallion draped in a black cloak. This time, he just looked like any ole greasy teenager. A grimy, pimply faced teenager, to be specific. He had a smudge on his cheek and dirt all over his jeans. "Maybe television really has ruined my imagination…" she commented.

Keeping his present hidden from view, Bart said, "Can we talk? It is important."

"Sure, one second."

---

The window shut, and Bart waited outside on the porch. His heart was racing, causing him to feel light-headed, like he was a thousand miles off the ground. Hearing the front door open quietly, he turned and Terri stepped out wearing her pink robe. She yawned instinctively at the natural light, making her eyelids heavy. "Okay, where do you want me? We haven't done it in Sherri's bed yet."

"Uh. Right here should be fine."

She paused. That was not the reaction she expected. "Umm… This is a dream, right?" Bart thought about it, then leaned forward, pinching her arm, which caused her to yelp. "Ouch!"

"Doesn't look like it," he said.

"You know I bruise easily."

Bart chuckled nervously, unable to maintain eye contact. "My bad." He continued to stare as an uncomfortable silence descended. Knowing full well she could out wait for him, he swallowed, hoping his dry mouth would subside. "Um, okay, here it goes." The sweat was really pouring now, and he wiped his brow with his free hand, muttering, "Damn, when did it get so hot? Is it hot to you?"

"Kind of muggy," Terri acknowledged, desperately trying to smooth down her hair. He seemed ready to faint. "Is something wrong? Do you need somewhere to hide again?" She checked both sides of the street. "I don't hear sirens."

"N–No," He stammered, the sweat under his armpits overtaking his shirt. Able to tell this would not be any easier, Bart blurted out. "I am sorry! I have been a huge jerk!"

Terri snapped awake instantly. She knew apologies were not his strong suit. She held up her hands."Huh? What do you mean?"

"I–I mean that I don't notice things like I should. Girls are as new to me as boys are to you," Bart sputtered, getting closer. He looked down at his feet. "Ever since the arcade, I can't stop thinking about you but I wasn't sure you felt the same way." He paused. It was becoming easier to talk. What he did not know is she was getting weak in the knees. Taking a deep breath, he revealed what he was concealing. It was a bouquet of a dozen crudely spray painted, black roses. His voice cracked as he proclaimed. "I like you a lot, Terri. Will you go out with me!?"

Forgetting the hour, Terri emitted an ear-splitting squeal, hugging him. Then she stopped, pulling her back and studying his face. "You mean a date, right? Cause if you don't—"

"I do. I want you to be my girlfriend and I want the haunting tour to be a proper first date." Bart said quickly, trying to assuage her fear.

"EEEEEE!" Another high-pitched squeal, this one loud enough that Sherri and Jessica came to investigate peaking through the curtains to watch the show. Terri could barely stay still. "W—We will be alone, and you will put your arm around or hold my hand. Maybe we can have dinner and uh…" Now she was also feeling light-headed, sinking into his arms. "I was so worried you didn't feel the same way."

Bart's heart was calming down, a deep sense of ease overtaking him. "Are you crazy? You are awesome! Funny, smart, sweet, and soft…" He trailed off amazed at the three kinds of softness he experienced at that moment. "Like Milhouse, but independent and mischievous!"

The romance was dashed, and Terri cocked her head. "I am going to pretend you didn't just compare me to Milhouse." Running a hand down his chest, she sighed misty-eyed. Her own dumb teenage heart was no longer on the verge of giving out. "The only way this could be more like a fairy tale is if you asked me to put on a glass slipper."

"Ah crap, do I need to do that?" Bart asked, worried about finding a glass slipper on such short notice.

"No, I want to keep my heel." Terri said reassuringly, taking the flowers. The paint was seeping down the paper towel, but she didn't mind it was the thought that counted. She held her nose above the bulbs, appreciating the overpowering smell of spray paint with a hint of rose. "These are exactly what I always wanted. Black as midnight, somber for a funeral. Thank you."

"Snatched them straight off Mr. Beardsley's grave," He said, puffing his chest with pride.

"How romantic!" Terri cooed. She took his hand gently, squeezing it. "You do plan on kissing me, I hope."

Bart hesitated. "Wait really?"

"No, I want my boyfriend who just stole flowers from a dead man for me to go home before I can show my appreciation." Terri said sarcastically. She pursed her lips and the two shared a real first kiss. Once finished, she whispered in his ear. "At long last, the clocks can be set for when we will bring forth a nameless star spawn, and doom mankind."

Bart wiped his brow again. "Whoa mamma. Slow down. I am not ready for that kind of commitment. Dooming mankind is a lot of work."

Parked on the sidewalk, Nelson zoomed in with his handheld video camera, filming the whole event. "That is it, you dumb bastard. I need a new pair of shoes."

---

As the bus trundled along on its path, Lisa concealed the range of turbulent emotions she was experiencing. She had found herself engrossed in the story, having always wondered about why her absent older brother had essentially walked out of her life. She never expected to learn what exactly was wrong with the girl she called 'fruit loops.' Peeling her chin from the top of the leather seat, she said, "Jessica I had no id–"

"Save your pity," Jessica interrupted harshly, now laying her head on Sherri's lap; "I don't need to hear how sorry you are for me." She snorted. "Besides, someone here took a few liberties."

Sherri giggled sweetly. "My version is more fun than the truth." She leaned closer, whispering, "And let's be real, you are a baaaad girl."

They swapped spit, and frowning, Bart said, "I wasn't that dumb."

"Bro, we had that exact conversation. Like I am more scared that Sherri knew," Nelson said, keeping his eyes on the road. He was looking for the next exit. "Did you bug my house?"

"Oh, I will never tell." Sherri tittered.

Terri dug her butt bone into her boyfriend's side, causing him to roll onto his stomach. "You almost broke my heart, meanie." She tousled his hair. "But I forgive you."

Lisa cocked her head, puzzled. "I thought you guys weren't dating until sophomore year, though."

"We were split for two months." Bart clarified the dark chapter of their relationship was brought on by a minor disagreement over if Radioactive Man was better than Radiation Dude. "Turns out I had grown rather fond of her."

Terri nodded, smiling. "Your brother makes me happy. That is why I don't like hearing you say that I settled."

Lisa was about to object, but it was true. She had been unfairly judgemental of their relationship when it was getting started. Nelson briefly looked to his right. "I think the only real takeaway here is just that, Lise. We are who we are. Emotional scars and all." He gestured with his head toward the back. "These are my friends. They have my back and I have theirs."

"Wow, Nelson. That is really profound," Lisa said, trying to decide how she felt.

"Yeah dad. Way to gay it up," Bart teased, another cassette tape bouncing off his forehead. "Ow!"

Lisa's introspective expression shifted into puzzlement. "There is one thing I don't get."

"What is that?" Jessica asked.

"What happened to Milhouse? Wasn't he part of your group?"

Uneasy looks were exchanged across the bus. Bart slid out from underneath Terri, sitting up. "That is… mistakes were made."

Nelson flipped the blinker, pulling off the highway. "Do we really want to get into that, uh, can of worms without snacks?" Sneed's Feed and Seed was only a mile away.