Their brief trip down memory lane was set aside, in favor of discussing possible strategies to challenge Bart's persistent pursuer. It quickly became apparent that there would be no easy answer to the threat posed by a being that existed between space and time. A discomforting thought was raised by Sherri, who interrupted the conversation. "We can't rule out that Jenda already knows where we are going."

"Or is already waiting for us," Terri said, equally doubtful about their odds at challenging Jenda. Two encounters were under their belt and both times the monster had trapped Bart alone. She rubbed the top of his head as he leaned against her shoulder. "Was there anything else you remember, babe?"

"Uhhh… I think she killed Wendell," He answered, his eyes opening. The bleeding from his nostrils had subsided, but now came the part where Bart felt like he had been run over by a speeding car.

His dry delivery of the news caused Nelson to slam on the brakes. Fortunately, the bus was alone on the deserted highway. "What?!"

"Who is Wendell?" Jessica asked, not one to pry into the lives of her classmates. Unless, of course, she was trying to worm her way into some unfortunate bloke's heart to get what she wanted.

Lisa stayed quiet but paused, flipping through her notebook to eavesdrop. Sherri looked perturbed. "You slipped in his vomit during field day last year."

Jessica thought back, remembering her unglamorous slide across the tile floor near the locker room. "Ohhhhh! Is he the guy who is always sick?" She popped another yam into her mouth. "Tragic. He was cute."

"You dated him too." Sherri sighed.

"Did I? Weird," Jessica said between bites. "Guess he wasn't any good."

Nelson waved his hand. "That, aside. Bart. How do you know?"

Bart reached up, grabbing a handful of his own hair. "She showed me his head. He looked dead to me." He repeated what she had told him. "She said that she can feed on those of potential."

His mind was still trying to piece together the numbing experience, explaining a lack of personal reaction. Everyone else was understandably distressed by the news besides Jessica, who was too busy downing the entire jar of fruit noisily. Nelson said. "Shit…"

"Could have been an illusion. Jenda can manipulate reality," Terri said, hoping beyond hope that was the case. She bit at her thumbnail. "If it is true, though." She stopped short of continuing the distressing thought.

"You still don't have a mobile phone, do you, Nelly?" Sherri asked. He shook his head, and she leaned back against the wall. "Then unless we turn around, we won't know for sure." She looked at Bart. "We should have a vote."

He straightened up. "We are closer to the lodge than Springfield, right?"

"Yep," Jessica said dryly. "Just a couple more times over the horizon."

Terri bit at her lower lip. "I vote to go to the lake. We can't be sure Jenda isn't trying to lure us back." She glanced at her sister. "So far, she has only appeared out of a mirror. That suggests a lack of mobility."

Bart was not sure he agreed with the assessment. "Listen, T. The asylum could have been a fluke, but this time she came to me. I think it is safe to assume she will not wait."

"Do you want to turn around?" She asked bluntly; "if we do, we are going to need a proper plan."

Bart tugged anxiously on his earlobe. "No. We need to go to the lodge." His answer surprised everyone else, as they were fully prepared to turn around. Recognizing their confusion, he shrugged. "What? If she did eat Wendell and intends to do the same to me. She needs to work for it."

"Good idea. Women always like it when a guy plays hard to get," Jessica said sarcastically, only half seriously. "Maybe she will realize how much she truly loves you, and—"

Terri cleared her throat, cutting the suggestion short. "Can you not." Staring blankly, she spoke plainly, emphasizing the danger. "We did not take things seriously before, and Milhouse paid the price." She took Bart's hand. "We aren't letting that happen again."

Jessica held up both hands. "Right, right. Sorry." She pointed toward the windshield. "I vote to keep going then. Turning around only means we are playing into Jenda's hands."

Sherri's brow was furrowed deeply as she weighed their two less-than-stellar options. Nelson patted the back of the seat. "Guess I agree. If she is coming after us now. We might as well try to meet her halfway." He nodded at his friend. "For the record, I am not going to be your bathroom, buddy."

"You are just going to let me die!?" Bart exclaimed.

"Learn to pee in a safe place, dingus. Like not a creepy store in the middle of nowhere."

"But I really had to go."

Sherri said, "Then when we get to the lodge, we will need to be thorough." She massaged her forehead. "Our primary goal hasn't changed, but now we need to also to make sure Jenda doesn't get the drop on us again."

Nelson turned back around, glad no other cars interrupted their little talk as he put his foot on the gas pedal again. Lisa had been listening uncertainly. She had not known Wendell that well. In fact, to most kids at school, he was a background character in their lives. A notion that could not suppress the chilling trepidation overtaking the bus. The prospect of something horrifying had befallen him, gnawed at the back of her mind. An alarming idea buried deep behind the noise of her ever-so-important life.

Catfish Lake was a little piece of paradise, far from the hustle and bustle of city life. Surrounded by towering pine trees that densely packed the forest all around, and a mountain range, it was quite the majestic view. The stars were visible on the surface of the dark water, twinkling across the surface.

The lodge was a two-story building in just the perfect spot to overlook the lake. Normally it was used by the Lovejoys to counsel despondent married couples, now it would serve as a base of operations. Parking on the grass near the stone fire pit, the freaks filed out of the bus. Bart opted to wait outside while Jessica, Sherri, and Terri went inside, vetting each room for vectors of attack. Which was actually just an excuse to smash every mirror in the place, much to Jessica's manic glee.

Bart and Nelson unloaded the equipment while Lisa stood, watching unhelpfully. She was surprised to find he had kept the telescope she had given him as a gift after breaking a leg. "I thought you weren't interested in stargazing."

"I am not. Seymour ruined it for me," Bart said, moving the case to the ground as he reached inside for cameras. He tossed one to Nelson. "But you never know what you might find staring at the sky long enough."

"Like that," Nelson said, pointing to the edge of the treeline near the lake. They followed his finger and saw that the tops of several trees were singed black. "Evidence of extreme heat."

He snapped a picture, and Lisa crossed her arms, unimpressed. "Lightning could have easily done that." Her tone carried with it, an intense condescension only she could muster.

Bart carefully checked if his nose was going to shift unnaturally again. He was hoping all those days spent drinking milk were going to pay off. He said, "Lightning would have torched the whole tree. That alone elevates this to a close encounter of a second kind."

"Since when did you become such an expert?" She asked.

"Hello, that book on spaceology," He answered vaguely, returning to the bus for their video camera. Bart stopped holding its handle. "Didn't you plan to study or something boring?"

Lisa shrugged. "Maybe I want to annoy you instead."

Nelson started to assemble the telescope. He placed the tripod down facing the lake. "Then give a hand, at least." She waited for a second, but ultimately complied and helped him screw the scope onto its stand. He looked backed at the trees. "If we are lucky, the black triangle will linger. Meaning we might get a chance to get a long look at this."

She was at the point of resigned acceptance, so deciding to be helpful, Lisa adjusted the knob on the side of the scope. "Here. You haven't fine tuned the focus for short distances."

The sound of shattering glass got their attention as Jessica reemerged, tossing a mirror from the bathroom against the support pillars near the door. It shattered into a billion pieces of glass. Terri came out as well, giving a thumbs up. "We got them all!"

Bart directed her attention to the tree line. "Take a look!"

She got closer, whistling. "Now that is trace evidence." Terri squinted. "It's tragic if it weren't for the murderous woman trying to kill you. Seeing a UFO together would be quite the memorable date."

"Eh. Try not to think about it, and it still can be," He said, doing his absolute best to keep a veneer of bravery up. Even though a creeping fear was wriggling itself into his consciousness. The airless plains of Jenda's home kept interrupting his normal thoughts, causing his brain to ache.

His foolish attempt at masculinity was easy to see through, and Terri was soon pressed up against him, standing on tiptoes in order to rest her chin on his shoulder. "I am not letting Jenda take you. She can eat a dick."

"I don't think that is all she plans to eat," Bart said deadpan, touching her wrist. "But it is nice to have a bona fide witch on my side."

Terri snickered, giving him a peck on the cheek. "Doing my best to keep your dumbass alive." A gentle breeze blew through the trees, causing the grass to become animate. "Next time she shows up, I say we give her a lesson in romance."

He stopped, pursing his lips as he looked at her. "Is this really how you are going to float a threesome?"

"Ew! I am not inviting her to join. I am just expecting her to be polite and watch."

"You are totally nuts. I love you so much."

"Shh. It's bad luck to say that out loud." Despite her superstition, Terri still nuzzled the back of his neck, whispering. "I love you, too."

Within earshot, Lisa grimaced, disgusted by the prospect her brother was better at romance than she ever could hope to be. "Are… Are they always like this?"

Double checking his stopwatches, Nelson said, "You don't have a clue. It is a miracle everyone is still wearing pants." He slid them back into his pocket, confident no more time anomalies had occurred. Remembering they had two other members of the party, he glanced at the lodge. "Well, at least as far as I know."

Reaching into her jacket, Lisa brought out a vegetarian protein bar. Tearing the wrapper, she said, "Alright, I got to know. Let's say this black triangle," she invoked a mocking tone for the term, "is real. You snap a few pictures, then what?"

She took a bite, obnoxiously chewing. Nelson crouched down, looking at the water. "We make a couple copies, file the original, and sell the extras to whatever tabloid will buy them." He ran his fingers through the grass. "You'd be surprised how much you can get. Not to mention the publicity tends to ruffle some feathers."

"Let me guess. Men in black suits show up."

"Haven't had any of those yet. Aside from that time, Sherri and Jess…" He paused, then changed the subject. "… Never mind."

Lisa did not press it. Instead, she took another equally annoying bite, smacking her lips loudly. "Well, I suppose I should get to studying."

Seizing the opportunity, Nelson stood again. "Actually, I was going to say, we do the nights in shifts." He clumsily rubbed the back of his head. "Every four hours. If you, I don't know, get tired of staring at the wall and want to study outside. I am usually alone."

Surveying the picturesque slice of nature, Lisa nodded. "Sure. It will beat listening to these two go at it." She left, heading inside with her notebook. Nelson looked to Bart and Terri who both waved with equal levels of pride and sarcasm. They were almost in tears at his success.

Lisa vanished into one of the rooms upstairs, while the rest of the freaks sat in front of the stone fireplace downstairs. It was quite the cozy setting, making it easy to forget they had come with a mission. Even the machinations of Jenda could not foil their shared desire to follow the path H had laid out before them.

Standing, Sherri placed the poster board of types of UFOs at the head of the fireplace. "Our objective is simple. We need to get at least one clear picture for H."

"You guys ever think it's weird we trust a complete stranger who won't even tell us their name to give us missions?" Jessica asked, leaning her head back on the couch.

"Nope. I'd trust H with my life," Terri said without hesitation, pulling her feet onto the couch. "She strikes me as a lady in the know."

Bart turned toward her. "How do you know H is a chick?"

"Because she is organized. Her notes have a feminine touch."

Sherri cleared her throat, getting everyone's focus. "It doesn't matter." She paused. "Though H is most certainly a woman. Should we draw lots?" She revealed several colored sticks from her pocket, each one painted black at the tip.

There were rules to hunting the paranormal, the most important being that hormones could not interfere with the search. So couples were usually split up to avoid distractions, which often resulted in some awkward pairings. Case in point when everyone aside from Nelson took a stick and checked the end to see what number they had got.

With Nelson vocally opting out of the draw on the chance that Lisa was serious, the final pairings were: Sherri and Bart, much to her chagrin, Terri and Jessica, who gave each other a high five. Nelson checked his watch. "Should be getting dark soon. Who is taking the first shift?"

"Us," Jessica said, putting an arm around Terri, who found herself in a headlock. "It's been too long since we had a proper girls' night."

"H–help," Terri pleaded pathetically, as she tried to wriggle free.

No one came to her aid. Nelson wandered over to the kitchen where they had crudely stashed their snack bag in the fridge. He got a pack of chips. "Then I guess I'll take the snacking hours."

Bart yawned. "That means it's nap time for me." He plopped onto the couch. "Good luck, babe." Promptly rolling over onto his side facing the back of the sofa, he was snoring in minutes.

To which Sherri said, "For a guy an otherworldly demon is trying to eat, he certainly sleeps soundly."

"Sleeping on a park bench will do that to ya," Nelson said, shoveling a handful of chips into his mouth. He shrugged; "YMCA too. Either you get stabbed or your stuff gets stolen."

Jessica tossed a soda can to Terri. "Ready to get out there?"

"Aye, aye."

The sun was beginning its descent behind the mountain peaks, as creatures of the night began their search for food. An owl hooted concealed by the branches of the trees, a rustle of wind through grass, and the lightning bugs would occasionally rise into the air, flashing yellow before buzzing away. It would have been a peaceful scene had the girls' attention not been focused on the stars above.

Unfolding a chair, Jessica firmly planted it on the ground. "How are you holding up?"

The telescope was between them, and Terri was sitting cross-legged, half sunk into the other fold-out chair they had brought. This one had a tear in its seat, meaning she was leaning to the right, sipping her drink. "I… uh yeah, I am fine. We all knew something like this would happen."

"Did we? I always assumed it would be you or Sherri ending up with an inter-dimensional stalker," Jessica teased, settling in as she scanned the tree line. The sun was almost gone entirely now and soon the stars would be out. "I meant more that this is Bart's neck on the line and you are the one who cares about his tight little ass."

Terri saw a big black bird take flight from a nearby tree, then fly off over the mountain. She stayed quiet, soaking in the peaceful environment. After a couple of minutes, she said, "I'd feel a lot better if there was something I could do. It is like life is trying to spite me."

"Kind of surprised it did not happen sooner. Given how much, you and Bart go at it," said Jessica. She reached over and gave the mound of purple hair an affectionate tussle. "All that sin makes me so proud.."

"Yeah, but did it really have to be this year?" Terri asked with a defined pout; "is it wrong I wanted our senior year to be special?"

Jessica gave an amused look her way. "Awww, were you going to have a nice little date or two? A romantic romp between study sessions?" She trailed off and frowned.

"Ehehe. No reason to be jealous." Terri giggled. It gave a sense of pride to know even the notorious Jessica Lovejoy was envious of her success. "Just tell Sherri. You want to be felt up when you get a question right."

Given the collective fears of all the freaks that the majority might not pass their last year in High School, Sherri and Terri had made it a mission to make sure their respective partners passed. Nelson was on his own, but he had Lisa in his back pocket.

The mask of the sexually confident vixen Jessica liked to wear slipped briefly, and her cheeks became a rosy red. "But then she'd know I like her. It'd ruin my mystique."

"Think that ship sailed when your mom found Sherri's bra in your laundry."

"Zip it. That sucked."

Terri cracked a smile. Some things were not worth pushing, especially for someone as inwardly fragile as Jessica. So they moved on to less important matters for a while, ever watchful of the stars above. There was no expectation of seeing anything on the first night. UFO hunting required patience and steel nerves. Sitting alone in the silent woods cultivated an insecurity in the mind. Shadows that would have once appeared harmless took on a sinister quality in the moon's light. The sounds of animals caused Terri to watch the trees from the corner of her eye, convinced that their pursuer would reveal herself at any moment.

When Jenda did not materialize, Terri leaned back in her chair. "How is Sherri doing, anyway?"

"Aren't you supposed to know that? Being psychic twins and all?"

"I am blocking her. So she's mad at me."

Jessica yawned. "Hmm, I don't think that is true. You just hurt her feelings." The reason was more than obvious. "Why didn't you tell us about the ballet?"

Terri was surprised and then frowned. "Nelly snitched, huh?" A nod. "We wanted it to be our thing. Whenever Sherri is around, no one pays attention to me and Bart already gets enough shit because people think he's gay."

None of this was new information to Jessica, although it explained the secrecy. She smirked. "Well, you both are kind of fruity." Terri did not laugh, not even a smile. "I get it, but I think you and Sherri should talk. She is worried you are cutting her out of your life."

This notion caused Terri's stomach to churn, since it was not her intention. "Is it so hard to understand? I want people to see me for me? The same way Bart does? I can't do that if I am joined at the hip with Sherri." She exhaled, her face sinking. "You are right. We should talk."

"Of course, I am. If there is one thing I know, it is what girls need. And you two better talk sooner rather than later. We all know what happens when the Mackleberries are separated for too long."

Suddenly grim, Terri worriedly touched her cheek. "We age horribly…"

The first shift concluded with little to note. Aside from an abnormally large Venus, there were no sightings of strange objects in the sky. Let alone a black triangle. Lisa had kept her nose crammed into a textbook for the entire time upstairs. The rustic decorations made it easy to study until she noticed the cowhide bedspread, which did much to distract the high-minded vegetarian.

Hearing Jessica and Terri coming back inside, Lisa slid off the bed to peek over the railing. Nelson and Sherri were sorting through the snack cooler brought along for the trip. Bart remained out cold on the couch, enjoying the pleasures of an unmolested dreamscape.

"See anything?" Nelson asked as he unscrewed the lid on a whole jar of peanut butter.

"Nope. Just a lot of stars," Terri said, plopping onto the couch against her boyfriend's legs.

He stirred, rolling over and rubbing his eyes. "Is it noon already?" Bart blinked, dazed. "What year is it?"

"Same year. It's time to change shifts," Nelson said, cracking his neck. He stuck a joint in his mouth but did not light it. Instead, let it dangle. "Guess it's my turn. If I get abducted, I will never forgive you guys."

Lisa came down the stairs, buttoning up her jacket. "How about I show you the constellations instead?"

"Stars suck," Nelson said as they walked toward the door. He passed over the jar to her. "I want a picture of that triangle."

The odd pairing left. After the door shut, Sherri asked. "Can someone tell me what he sees in that miserable bitch?"

Jessica snickered, sitting beside her. "Mmm. Rawr." She flicked her wrist. "Some guys don't respect themselves."

Bart leaned over. "Hey, T. You know we got about four hours before my shift… Let's say we head upstairs and maybe make—"

"You literally almost got eaten a few hours ago," Terri retorted, ending the proposition.

"Near-death experiences are kind of hot."

"Mhmm. I am sure." She smiled faintly. Relenting, she stood. "Well, I said I wanted to give that bitch a show."

They headed for the stairs, with Bart turning back toward the other two girls, giving an excited thumbs up. Jessica kicked her feet onto the coffee table. "You gotta really give him credit. He's got more energy than all of us combined."

"That is not a good thing," Sherri said, pulling the plastic wrapping off a bowl of oatmeal she had prepared earlier that morning. "A healthy fear of death would give Bart a fighting chance."

Lisa remained standing, using the telescope for its intended purpose. She pointed at the sky. "That is Orion."

Nelson could not care less, lighting his joint. He inhaled deeply, getting comfortable for a long night. It was soothing to be surrounded by the sound of croaking frogs, the gentle whistle of wind through the trees, and the ever-so-faint whoosh of a helicopter's blades. This last noise puzzled him. "Lise, shh," Nelson whispered.

She complied, and he stood scanning the trees behind the lodge. After a few minutes of total silence, he was about to sit again when a single white helicopter flew overhead. Its spotlight cut through the darkness and traveled across the lake. It stopped scanning the calm waters. Lisa noticed a blue-tinted globe on the door before it flew away. "Friends of yours?"

"Don't know," Nelson answered nervously, glancing around. He sat taking another drag, offering the joint he asked her. "Want a hit?"

Lisa stared at the glowing paper. "Uh… I'll pass. That stuff melts your brain."

"Your loss." He said the fact dawned on him that holding a conversation with someone whose personality was narrowly defined by an overpowering hostility to the mainstream would be an arduous task. She took the other seat. As Nelson, doing his best not to make a fool out of himself, opted for the sap approach. "So, how are your folks doing?"

"Dad's blood pressure is through the roof, and mom is losing all her hair from stress," Lisa answered grimly, crossing her legs. "Neither of them will admit it, but even now, they want Bart to forgive them."

Nelson could tell the notion bothered her. Growing up, the neglected middle child had done much to cultivate Lisa's negative personality traits. He thought about an appropriate response, eventually settling on one. "Not that he wants to–"

He did not have time to finish, with Lisa interrupting. "Exactly! Not that Mr. I'd rather be a Mackleberry, is ever going to come back," she groaned. "God, it's so annoying. Bart has always been doted on. All the trouble he caused when we were kids and Mom and Dad still bailed him out on every occasion. Now he's gone and they keep trying to win him back." She collected herself, sighing dejectedly. "It's not his fault. We have to face the fact they are not great parents."

"Sounds like it. My mom isn't winning awards, but to her credit, she at least never hit me," Nelson said, watching the skies. "How about you, Lise? I know we don't hang out much anymore. Is the future still bright?"

"Suppose so. Looks like I am going to graduate two years early."

Nelson raised both eyebrows, not surprised but impressed. "Hey, that is awesome. All those anti-social tendencies have paid off."

Lisa assumed he was trying to be complimentary. "And you? You haven't asked for any more help with Algebra."

"Found an easier way to pass," Nelson said vaguely. "You'd be surprised how few teachers don't lock their office door." A humble brag that fell on deaf ears, as she stared unimpressed. "Er. I mean, is it too late to say hard work and determination are going to save my ass?"

"It is."

"Rats."

Another period of quiet followed, as the two were socially inept at continuing a conversation. Turning back toward the lake, Lisa leaned her chin into her palm. "I used to hate Bart…"

If it was a pity party she wanted, Nelson once held out the joint toward her. "Used to?"

This time, Lisa took the marijuana. She stiffly tried to take a pull off the crude cardboard filter, then fell into a coughing fit as her throat burned. "Ugh, yeah." She did not get the appeal. "For a long time, I thought he was a coward. Now I understand, leaving saved his life." She pulled on the pearls around her neck, having come to terms with a lot in the last year. "I guess what I am saying is, I get not wanting to be a Simpson anymore."

"Being shot with a nail gun as a joke is bound to put a different perspective on things." Nelson was fully aware of the true depths to which Homer's depravity sunk. He shifted. "Does this mean I should start calling you Lisa Bouvier?"

"Sure, Janey already does," Lisa said, leaning against her hand. "President Simpson would sound rather droll. Bouvier has a sophisticated ring to it."

"Well, miss president, I hope you plan to legalize it. Otherwise, I will be obliged to vote against you."

"You wouldn't!"

"Sorry, a pretty face only matters so much. Policy is way more important," Nelson said smoothly, trying to capture the aloofness that had worked so well for Bart.

Lisa placed a hand on her chin, side-eyeing him. "You think I am pretty?"

"Well sure, your head may be a starfish, but it has grown on me," He chortled. Leaning over, Nelson gave her a nudge with his fist. "Aside from your complete lack of a hairline, of course. Might want to get that checked."

Massaging where she was pretty sure her hairline started, Lisa fought off a giggle. "Doctor Hibbert told me it was genetic." She pursed her lips. "Maybe I should dye it."

"Could ask Terri about that. She uses enough hair dye to kill small animals."

"For some reason, I don't think she would be all that interested in helping."

Nelson took another puff. "Jeez, you guys are still mad at each other?" He looked at the lodge, where Sherri was peering out the window evilly, like she knew the topic of discussion. "I'd recommend burying the hatchet. Those two are the worst girls in the world to make enemies out of."

"They started it," Lisa grumbled. "They've been picking on me since…." She trailed off, trying to remember the exact time. "Since well, forever." She was not telling the truth. To be more correct, she was telling her truth, even if it was not the complete story. Constantly using the same tired joke about seeing double did little to ingratiate her with the twins.

"Yeah, and I liked using Bart's kidneys as a cushion for my fist," Nelson stated proudly. He became wistful, wiping a tear from his eye. "Such soft, supple kidneys. You can learn a lot about someone punching their kidneys. You should give it a try."

Lisa finally laughed, a thin smile coming to her face. "I don't think that approach works for girls. Also, I am ninety percent sure fruit loops would have no qualms killing me."

Nelson waved his hand dismissively. "Jess? Nah, she just likes to act tough. Total softy." He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, which prompted him to add. "Uh, don't tell her I said that."

They spent the rest of his shift talking about their plans for the future. Lisa's dream of being president, and Nelson's dream of having a job that paid the bills. Vastly different goals, shaped by vastly different upbringings. Despite knowing him as long as she had, Lisa could not understand why a kid who grew up in poverty did not aim higher.

Once it was time, the ever-prompt Sherri dragged a disheveled Bart outside to relieve their comrade. As Nelson and Lisa went back inside, Bart opened a bag of chips. "I don't get their thing. She still picks her nose sometimes, and he is a few potatoes short of a loaf."

"It is because women settle," Sherri replied arrogantly, not even sure how to address the creative phrase. "Though, unlike my dear sweet sister, I think it's Nelson who is settling this time."

"Ouch," Bart said, popping the tab on his drink. "Does that mean Jessica settled for you?"

"No, of course not. I know how to bathe."

"Hey, so do I."

Sherri giggled. "You literally stopped showering the entirety of Junior year." She gagged, remembering that life choice. "Worst summer ever."

Bart feigned insult. "Terri happened to think it gave me a nice natural musk."

"Don't remind me. I had to live with her," Sherri said, contorting her face in disgust. "It should have been a wake-up call when you two got your cheeks stuck together."

"Nothing wrong with a natural greasiness. You are being stuck up."

"Natural? There was enough that between the two of you, you could have started your own grease business."

"Whose to say we didn't and aren't living a secret life of luxury?"

"The fact you own one pair of jeans and she wears the same ratty band shirts every week."

Paraphrasing Terri, Bart said. "I believe it's called fashion on a budget."

Sherri shifted. "Right, you mean listening to a certain bad influence." She stared at him, unblinking for emphasis. "Terri used to be such a good girl."

"Mhmm. So did you, if I remember," Bart said, quick to remind her of the old days, where she and her sister sucked up to every adult in a twenty-mile radiance.

"Good is subjective. We liked to avoid brazen acts of mischief."

"Therefore, you guys were always way eviler than most girls."

She pouted. "Rude. You came along and blew our cover." Their attention soon moved to the stars above, as they soaked in the majestic visage of millions of shining stars. A sight that was enough to instill a deep sense of wanderlust and serve as a reminder that the troubles of the small town of Springfield were irrelevant in the grand scheme of life.

Bart leaned over, putting his drink down. "Not to sound like a nerd, but it is pretty nice out here."

"You sound like a huge nerd. What's next? You gonna go on one of Professor Prince's nature walks?" Sherri laughed.

"Probably not. I doubt he would be any help if Jenda appeared."

She looked over at him. Taking on a more big sister style role, Sherri said, "I wouldn't worry about Jenda."

Bart could tell she was trying, but he still frowned. "That is easy for someone who isn't her target to say."

"Sure, but at least she is consistent. Way easier to deal with than your psychotic dad," Sherri said sympathetically. Once Terri had pointed out the bruises present on Bart's neck, Sherri felt guilty about ever lumping him in with Homer. It was often easy to forget some of their peers had way worse home lives.

"Whoa and here I thought you were the twin born without a heart," Bart joked, prompting her to stick out her tongue. "Good point. She has been honest about wanting to kill me."

Sherri sighed. "For the record, you better not get killed. Our family has enough trouble making friends." She sounded like she meant it. While there was no one more important in Sherri's eyes than Terri, she had found appreciation in a group.

"That would be because you guys are creepy," Bart said with a slight curl of his lips. He knew full well they embraced the label as a badge of honor.

"Mean, we prefer mysterious."

Their mutual ribbing was cut short by the sudden appearance of a shape behind a particularly large cloud. Bart pointed in its direction. "Looks like we are going to get lucky.

Sherri raised her camera, waiting as they held their breaths. Whatever it was, slowly floated into view. Then, before either could react, the entire sky lit up like they were standing in the middle of a busy interstate. Bart's jaw dropped as the craft hovered silently over the lake. It was a solid black triangle with three glowing red lights at the end of each point. The center of the ship was white, a beam of light shining from it down onto the lake.

"… Incredible," Sherri said, raising the camera to take a picture. It clicked, the flash going off, as a Polaroid was spat out.

They did not have long to bask in the glory of the alien ship. A blast was heard, and without warning, a rocket flew into the sky. It narrowly missed the UFO exploding into a rain of metal. By a stroke of luck, a piece of shrapnel lodged itself in the craft's engine, causing it to smoke. Another blast followed, sending debris showering down.

"¡Ay, caramba!" Bart exclaimed, dropping to his stomach to avoid a piece of shrapnel screaming over his head embedding itself in the dirt.

The commotion was enough to get the rest of the freaks to rush outside. Lisa considered joining them but chose not to, thinking if a crime was being committed, it was better to have plausible deniability. The black triangle spun, with what was assumed to be its method of propulsion blinking erratically as it lost altitude.

Nelson and Terri rushed over. Jessica touched the top of her head. "It's gonna crash!"

"Well, duh," Nelson said, watching in awe as the smoldering UFO went down in flames behind the trees. Another blast deafened the area, causing the ground to rumble.

Everyone stood there only for a second before running in the crash's direction. They had come on a mission, and collecting physical evidence of an alien ship was better than just a few grainy photos. Sherri ducked underneath a low-hanging branch. "Who shot that rocket!?"

"I don't know. Government," Bart said, catching the same branch in the forehead, causing him to fall backward onto Terri.

"Haw-Haw!" Nelson laughed.

They hit the ground, tied in a knot of gangly limbs. "Smooth one, babe," Terri groaned, accepting her fate until Jessica gave her a hand.

Rubbing the new lump forming center mass, Bart clamored to his feet. "My bad!" The gaggle reached the edge of a clearing where they finally laid eyes upon the UFO's fate. Smoking wreckage, burnt grass, and broken trees littered the semi-circle. Ash filled the air, making it difficult to make out every shape in the dirt. Underneath the moon, it was clear that at least a portion of the craft was intact.

A door appeared as they crouched in the cover of the trees, watching with bated breath. Sherri raised her camera, finger on the trigger. "No way…" A seven-foot tall, drooling being with eight tentacles, green skin, and a single red eye stumbled out from its ship, tossing off its cracked space helmet. Unknown to them, it was a Rigellian, a space-faring race from a nearby ringed planet whose name it would prefer not to mention.

Sherri snapped a quick photograph while Rigellian groped the air blindly. Terri put a hand over her heart. "Aw. The poor thing is injured."

She wanted to help; Jessica stopped her. "Are you nuts? We don't even know what kind of diseases it has."

Her caution was well placed because a few seconds later, the same helicopter from earlier flew overhead, its spotlight shining directly upon the alien pilot. A rifle cracked, and a tranquilizer dart flew out of the woods, hitting the creature in the side of the head. Its tendrils wriggled as it tried to draw its ray gun, only to fall limp over a jagged piece of metal. "Crap." Bart muttered, crouching down instinctively.

There was an eerie silence, aside from the rotation of the helicopter's blades. Then squads of men wearing bulky white hazmat suits emerged. They fanned out, some armed, others carrying Geiger counters. These men seemed in charge, directing their subordinates toward the flaming wreckage. A squad carried a long tube that linked to a tank on their backs, spraying white foam onto the rest of the ship. Puzzled, Sherri whispered, "These aren't blue berets."

She was speaking of the usual suspect in UFO recovery. A specialized unit of the military, specifically for the transport of alien materials. Two of these heavily armed men approached the motionless creature, prodding it with a metal baton before signaling the helicopter above. A sealed glass container was lowered, and the alien was placed inside. She took more pictures as it was raised back into the sky.

Their gawking was interrupted by footsteps behind. Nelson turned just in time to catch a rifle butt in the face. "Gah!"

Guns were now trained on them as Sherri, and Terri raised their arms above their heads. "Bart made us!"

"Hey!" Bart objected.

Staring down the barrel, Jessica said, "Huh. This is different."

"Speak for yourself," Nelson grumbled, touching his cheek.

The lead man touched the side of his helmet. "We have five intruders, director." There was a crackle, a voice on the other end giving instructions. He nodded, motioning. "You are coming with us. Restrain them."

Finding themselves in handcuffs, the freaks were led away from the wreck toward an idling van. Roughly shoved inside the back, Bart tried to make a break for the door as it was slammed shut. He kicked it. "Pretty sure this is illegal, dudes!"

They did not get to meditate on the legality of their detainment as a hiss was heard, a purple-colored smog filtering in. Scared, the twins instinctively pinched each other's noses. "Gas!" It was futile, however, and soon they swooned, falling unconscious. Bart felt weak, slumping against the double doors, sliding down as well.

Nelson punched blindly in the air, facing an enemy he could not fight easily. He, too, joined the rest of his comrades on the floor. Jessica wiggled. "Come on, guys…" She yawned, her eyelids heavy. "Is this… Is this all you got?"

Bart awoke to find himself on a cold metal table. His wrists and legs were bound, holding him in place. A fluorescent light hummed from the ceiling above. He struggled against his binds, causing the restraints to rattle. There was a plate of surgical equipment near his head. "Hey…" He found his throat sore, making it difficult to speak. Craning his neck, he stared at the latch on his restraint and was dismayed to find that the lock was not something that could be easily picked. Not that he had the tools necessary. There was a set of double doors in front of him, otherwise, he was surrounded by white tiled walls where a solitary vent was visible.

"Hello!?" He shouted. No one responded. Bart made another valiant attempt to free himself, but to no avail. Eventually falling limp as he heard heavy footsteps in the hallway outside. A woman entered with a surgical mask concealing the bottom half of her face. She had dirty blonde hair and light blue eyeshadow. She sauntered over, her heels clicking against the tile.

Anxious, Bart watched as she walked around to the side briefly touching the scalpel on the table before cocking her head as if disappointed. She paused. "Director Black wishes to speak with you. The procedure will have to wait."

"P–Procedure?" He stammered as she rolled him toward the doorway. The metal wheels clattered against the floor as he struggled desperately. "What is going on!? Where is Terri!?"

Bart got his answer as he was pushed past another operation room, its door slightly ajar, allowing him to glimpse a familiar head of purple hair. A surgeon passed between them, clicking on a saw which whirred to life. Just as the unfortunate captive squeaked by, the spinning blade cut a simple square into the back of one of the twins' heads.

His death glide was only made direr when Bart passed another grisly scene. This time it was Nelson, and several masked doctors were prodding at his grey matter, talking mechanically as they corrected what he had seen. Bart went limp, fear overtaking his entire body. It was a chilling fear that caused his arms and legs to feel numb as he sat there, shivering. The masked woman kept her eyes forward. "Do not fight. The adjustments are painless."

"Sorry, lady. That is not reassuring."

The gurney was turned, as they took a left, passing a few more shut doors. They passed another, a dull thunk echoing off the sterile environment. Bart flinched as a green tentacle splattered against the floor, sliding on a puddle of goo. It wriggled violently, flopping in a circle until another doctor appeared gently picking up the piece of alien biology. He cradled it tenderly before slamming the door shut.

Bart felt faint, almost slipping into unconsciousness, but his brain's attempt to escape was cut short when he was pushed into an office of sorts. There were dying houseplants, a waist-high bookshelf, above which was a television, and directly ahead, was a steel desk piled high with papers. An executive chair was turned away, facing the wall, and when Bart stopped, the director spun around.

A dour man with a black crew cut, stern frown, sunk in eyes, and an immaculate black suit that looked a bit too large for his thin frame. Recognizing him instantly, Bart stuttered, "Mr. B–Black!?"

The former president of Euro-Krusty land before it blew up, and later head counselor of Kamp Krusty, Mr. Black had ensured that his campers' summer was spent on grim death marches, and Dickensian sweatshops slaving away to make cheap leather wallets for export. He was a cruel taskmaster who relished an opportunity to copulate with his first love, evil. There was something slightly off about him now. His right eye was visibly bloodshot, and bandages were covering his right hand. He stood, slowly. "Hello, Bart. I was wondering when we might meet again." He gave a curt nod to the woman, who left without a word.

"Oh man, come on. If this is about that little revolution. Trust me, I didn't mean to foil your evil scheme." Bart hastily tried to explain. He had a bad feeling about where things were going.

Mr. Black remained impossible to read. "Please, your revolt was inconsequential. The experiment had already concluded." He concealed his bandaged hand behind his back as he got closer, projecting the judgemental demeanor of a college professor. "Though I must admit, it is getting a bit tiresome to have you and your friends interfering with our work."

Bart gulped, watching his captor warily. "Who is our?"

"The research and development division of the Globex Corporation. Your father was briefly employed with our main office,"Mr. Black clarified, candidly. He stopped at the foot of the gurney, reaching for the eldritch medallion hanging from Bart's neck. "Tell me. Where did you get this?"

"Pawnshop. You can find all sorts of useless junk there."

Mr. Black was unconvinced, tightening his grip on the old sign. "Is that so? Forgive me, I sincerely doubt you would find something like this in a pawnshop." He yanked it off, walking away from the boy.

"Hey! Give that back!"

Ignoring the demand, Mr. Black studied the symbol. "To think the last piece was right under our noses all along." He continued to mutter obsessively, stroking the protective ward. "Soon our eyes will be opened."

Bart did not like the sound of that. "What, what are you planning?"

"Planning? Nothing. We are long past the planning stage," Mr. Black said, having almost forgotten his guest. He pocketed the sigil and returned to his victim. Without a word, he unwrapped his bandaged hand.

Methodically, the layers of cloth were peeled back. Bart's eyes widened in horror as a collection of three dark green tentacles were laid bare. Crudely grafted onto yellow skin, beginning at the elbow, they wiggled in a controlled manner, serving as a full replacement for Mr. Black's human hand. Curling inward, a thin layer of slime dribbled onto the floor, pooling at the man's feet. Bart was past the inclination toward caution, snorting."Great. More tentacles. Where the hell is everyone getting them!? Is there a bargain bin with a bunch of dead octopuses somewhere!?"

"You jest. This is hardly the flesh of a common octopus. No, it is the gift of a fallen god," Mr. Black said, entranced by his new limb. He studied it only briefly, then reached over, stroking the captive boy's cheek. A move that left a trail of greenish slime dripping down Bart's face, causing him to shudder. The director continued his line of questioning. "Tell me who has passed on such a medal. The Movementerians perhaps? Or maybe it was the Stonecutters." He completed his own thoughts. "No, it is not possible. Those fools thought worshiping at the Mad Kings' feet would grant praises." He laughed. Well, it was not quite a laugh, more like a convulsion. "Fools the entire lot. The suffering that befell them should have been a lesson." He lowered his voice to a whisper; "only the vestigial put trust in saviors. We have a solemn duty to save ourselves, no matter the cost."

His language was cryptic and Bart had no time for riddles. Headstrong as ever, he spat. "Eat my shorts." He attempted to wipe his cheek against the pillow. Which, in turn, just left him with a moist pillow.

Mr. Black rolled his eyes, expecting youthful resistance. "Eloquent." He cast a long shadow in the light overhead. "Don't you understand? The Old Gods have yet to leave this place. I believe this symbol of trust passed to you by a lover… Surely you know its true meaning… It is a blessing from above that sanctifies a union."

Bart had not known that, but for obvious reasons, did not want to rat out Terri either. Thinking quickly, he had an idea. "Jenda gave it to me."

"Who?"

"Some crazy girl named Jenda. She sure loves me, alright dude."

"Heh." The unsettling director cracked a frightful smile. "That is wondrous news. Our rebellious child lives." Mr. Black returned to his desk sitting down. "Maybe I was a bit too hasty to condemn you, Bart Simpson…" He paused, reading a folder. "When your procedure is concluded, we should speak again."

"Wait." Bart began. It was a futile plea, as the woman from earlier reappeared, plunging a syringe with a neon green fluid into his neck. The sedative took effect quickly and his vision blurred. The next two hours became a slurry of hazy flashes. In his dream-like state, Bart could see Doctors standing over him, murmuring. A long plastic tube was inserted into his throat, as they monitored his vital signs. He could hear the clacking of medical tools and felt pressure in the back of his skull. Inconvenient memories of Globex were being removed, in order to avoid jeopardizing their dark ambitions.

During the operation, Bart closed his eyes and woke in a familiar space. Elohim's office, although it was no longer as organized. Books were strewn across the floor, pages floating in the air, and the record player was tipped on its side. Bleary-eyed, he looked around and found blue room Terri, dabbing his head with a cool cloth. Little Sherri, meanwhile, was placing his hand in a prepared bowl of warm water, and upon realizing he was awake, jumped. "Ah!"

Her surprise also caused little Terri to retract her hand. "We weren't!" She huffed. "Jerk, you are supposed to be asleep."

Bart groaned, sitting up, his head swimming. "Why am I back here?" There was a discomforting silence to the place without the violin melody. Occasionally punctuated by the shift of the bookcases over their heads.

"How are we supposed to know? The Hat Man is supposed to handle appointments."

The blue room girls looked worried. Bart frowned. "Who?"

Dream Sherri sighed, not surprised. "Right, I forgot he is a huge dork."

"It's not his fault they are cutting open his brain!" Terri protested defensively. Immediately embarrassed, she covered her mouth, emitting an adorable whine. "I mean, ehehe, he is a nerd."

"Hey, I may be a dork, but I am ain't a nerd." Bart objected to the description. He paused. "What do you mean, they are cutting open my brain?"

Sherri giggled creepily. "You'll find out." She shrugged. "Fortunately, this realm is not bound to your reality's laws. So most of your memories should remain intact here."

"Even the one where I found the half-eaten hot dog under the couch?"

"I should hope not. Neither of us wants to watch you make a pig out of yourself.

"Well pardon me, miss." Bart retorted sarcastically. "For a couple of dream kids, you two are as bitchy as in elementary school."

Terri crossed her arms, offended. "Of course we are. You made us this way." She walked over to her ethereal twin. "Heehee. Someone likes it when girls insult him."

"Gross," Sherri said simply.

Bart raised a finger. "Uh, in my defense. I prefer those girls to be more age-appropriate."

The two rolled their eyes in unison. "Whatever you say, fleshy." They both waved their hands in a single motion. "Besides, without the Hat Man, it is our duty to keep your soul creditors at bay."

"Soul creditors? Who else is trying to collect?"

"The real question is, who isn't trying to collect?" Dream Terri pointed to a rusted old filing cabinet that was not present during the initial meeting with Elohim. Cobwebs covered its exterior, and the screams of the damned could be heard faintly from inside. "It is going to be trouble sooner or later."

Bart threw his arms into the air, then flopped back down onto his back. "Ugghhhh! This nightmare is never going to end!"

"It won't with that attitude," Dream Sherri grumbled, annoyed that Elohim had contacted such a troublesome person. She glared. "Why can't you be more like the others? Those who have decided not to be victims of the Mad Kings' taint. To inflict cruelty, where cruelty is needed."

He flipped onto his side, staring at them. "Listen toots. Fighting just isn't in my nature." A thought occurred to him, and Bart put a hand on his chin. "Wait, others? Is that what Jenda meant by a tether being cut?"

Terri looked at her sister, and then back to their guest. "There is another. The one who stared into the eye of the old machine, and experienced the coming future."

Sherri's expression became grave. "It's possible you have already met them. Though they are the least of your concerns, Bart." She pointed. "We can grant you a reprieve in your dreams. It won't matter though if you cannot protect yourself in the waking world."

"Yeah! Stop being so dense," Terri demanded, passionate about his safety.

"You try staying alive when a seven-foot-tall monster is chasing you."

"If you think your current predicament is too much. The future cannot be fought," Sherri muttered, annoyed.

Terri nodded. "Fight the future, Bart Simpson. Hatred is the bastard spawn of love… The Mad Kings were never capable of genuine love. Now we suffer the consequences of their actions. Without the Hat Man, it has fallen to you to save those you love. "

Those were the last words Bart heard before his eyes opened a second time. His operation had been interrupted by the ear-splitting wail of an alarm. The surgeons vacated instantly, leaving the boy alone in the red glow of the emergency lights of the facility. He blinked once, trying to collect his bearings. He was still hooked to an IV; Bart jerked it out, wincing as the needle came free. Grunting, he forced himself to sit up, a move that caused his head to swim. The sedatives in his system were doing their best to keep him incapacitated. "Urk." He thought for certain he was about to vomit, leaning over the edge. Fortunately, his lunch stayed put. Bart touched the thin fabric that constituted his patient gown. "Maaan. This does nothing for my hips."

A noise outside the doors caused him to dive behind an oxygen machine, for it offered the most protection. He watched wide-eyed in terror as Jenda stomped into the room, rasping heavily, clutching a doctor from earlier by the tuft of his hair. "Where…" she growled, raising the hapless man so he could face her. "You said he was here."

"He should be! He was unconscious!"

Frustrated, Jenda clacked her teeth, her jaw snapping violently as it unhinged entirely. She bit through the man's neck in a single chomp. Blood gushed from his juggler and seeing he was dead, she tossed her victim away like an unwanted doll. His body landed next to Bart, who emitted a high-pitched eep hearing the doctor's arm bone crack as it bent violently at an unnatural angle.

Which was enough for Jenda to grin; she slid across the floor in his direction. "Kehehe… Globex thought they could hide you from me." She stopped, her neck stretching upward as she curled it around the oxygen machine. "Found you, my dear."

"Waaa!" Bart screamed, scrambling for the door, desperately trying to keep his gown in place during his flight.

"I do love it when you play hard to get," Jenda chided, having heard the crude suggestion. She peeled back a piece of skin, revealing the sinews and muscles beneath her cheek. "I won't let you escape this time."

Bart was already halfway down the hall when his stalker crashed through the operating room's doorway, sending the steel doors clattering to the floor. She turned, roaring, chasing after him. He jumped over two mangled Globex employees, having no time to even look down at the guts spilling out below his feet. He needed somewhere to hide, or at the very least to find a pair of pants, because the wind between his knees was not reassuring.

Rounding a corner, he darted into the first room on his right. It was dark aside from the red emergency lighting, bathing the entire area in a crimson hue. Stealthily, Bart closed the door, hearing Jenda fast approaching. Although he was not sure if she could sense him, making the move potentially futile.

"Place to hide. Place to hide," Bart said aloud, his eyes darted to every corner of the room. He saw a sink with a cabinet underneath. "Too small." There was a locker directly across from him, which looked promising, so he sprinted for it.

Pulling on the handle, it opened without effort, and he found Sherri cowering inside. She was peeking out through her fingers. She squeaked softly, "Bart?"

"You know it, baby," Bart said, climbing in with her without delay. He shut it, leaving just a crack to peek out. Inches apart, he whispered. "At least this time we are both half-naked."

Sherri did not have a saucy quip prepared. Instead, when Jenda came barreling into view, she held her breath. The relentless monster laughed evilly. "I can smell you…" A bone twisted, crunching as her body shifted unnaturally, her vestigial human arm flopping limply at her side as she slouched forward. "Why do you hide?

Jenda stopped at the locker, salivating. Her stinger stroked the top gingerly, sparks flying as its tip dug into the metal. Guessing they had been found, Sherri whispered. "Is it too late to ask you to come back later? We aren't decent."

The stinger's point carved straight through the middle, causing the locker to fall apart, leaving Bart and Sherri exposed. She was hugging him tightly. Knowing full well how it looked, she awkwardly released Bart. "Um… Hi."

Jenda lashed out, grabbing her obsession by the throat. "No more running."

He kicked her, his bare heel disappearing into a fleshy mass. "Oh, gross!" Bart exclaimed, regretting his decision; "you gotta use a different moisturizer!"

Thinking on her toes, Sherri ducked underneath the pincer rushing for the tray near the gurney where a surgical saw was resting. She grabbed it and clicked the button. The blade spun. "Let him go!"

With a mighty cry, she drove the spinning saw teeth into the jelly-like translucent yellow skin of Jenda's back. The crude weapon tore through flesh and bone effortlessly. When the blade reached the edge of the insect stinger, causing a grey ooze to bubble up, the monster howled pained. Frustrated, Jenda released Bart, spinning around to face this defiant teenager. "Ooo. That tickles, want to try again?"

"Nope!" Sherri answered as Bart rolled away the two of them, making a break for it.

Breathless, he asked, "This might be a bad time ...But does this gown make my ass look big?"

"Huge!" Sherri shouted, as they slid underneath a closing steel blast door. "I have a different question! Why are we here!?"

An intercom crackled, Mr. Black's monotone cadence filtering through. "We are facing a code green, biohazardous threat. All employees are to secure our remaining specimens and prepare for evacuation. I will oversee decontamination."

For a split second, Bart looked back, long enough to watch their pursuer throw her total body weight into breaking through her newest obstacle. The force of the blow caused the metal to creak, bending against her inhuman strength. "No idea! They took that memory!"

A morbid assessment that was understandably worrying, but there was no time to think too hard about it. Sherri looked left and then right. "Then where is everyone else?"

"How should I know? Brain has been getting hit a lot." Bart said, putting his hands on his knees.

Unable to shake the idea he might stare, Sherri took a step to the side."How about you go first, I have seen your ass plenty."

"Technically, I have seen yours too," Bart said another blow from behind, serving as an obvious reminder that they needed to keep running.

"Doesn't count. Terri's is way flatter," Sherri grumbled. They hurried down the corridor toward a fork that split in both directions.

Stopping at the intersection, Bart looked down at each side. They were deserted; the personnel having already fled toward the upper levels. "Can't you use your wibbly-wobbly twin sense to find Terri?"

Sherri frowned. "What?"

"The whole echolocation deal."

"We aren't bats."

"You aren't!? Then Lewis's reverse vampire theory was way off." Bart said. The odd pairing briefly checked the nearby rooms for their friends. Inside a similar operating room, they discovered the dismembered corpse of the alien pilot. Much of its green skin was removed, each absent organ being jarred for study later.

In another, Bart and Sherri found a collection of pigeon-rats, malformed scientific mistakes combining a bird and a rodent. He carefully let a few of the vermin crawl up onto his shoulder before following Sherri, who was standing in front of a metal walkway. The catwalk diverged into four directions and was suspended over a pool of black water. "Which way?" She asked.

"Why are you leaving it up to me?"

There was a loud bang from behind causing them both to jerk around. A vent in the ceiling crashed onto the floor and Jenda hurtled down, splattering against the ground. Bart grabbed hold of Sherri's arm. "Left it is!"

Their chaotic flight was abruptly brought to a halt when Sherri and Bart ran headfirst into a crowbar-wielding bat out of hell Jessica who slammed the tool into the side of a helmeted security guard. He yelped, surprised, and she screamed. "Now Nelly!"

Bursting out of his hiding place, a janitorial closet, Nelson struck hard with the butt of a fire extinguisher. One thunk later, the guard was unconscious. Bart was stunned. "Well, then."

Playing with her gown, Jessica leaned sexily on the crowbar. "Just cause they cut a piece of our brains out, doesn't mean we can't, uh." She frowned, the procedure no doubt caused lasting damage. Not that any of them used their brains at full capacity. "Uhh."

"Kick faceless goon ass!" Nelson declared, raising a fist. He was articulate as ever.

When he swayed the sudden burst of movement, causing him to feel sick, Sherri snickered. "Maybe they actually put something into that thick skull of yours."

Bart frowned, touching the raised incision that was inches about his hairline. The surgeons had avoided shaving him bald. "Crap, I really hope they didn't cut the piece out that remembers the plot of The Fall of the House of Usher."

"Find Terri and you won't have to worry," Sherri said resolutely. "We have made it this far without using our brains. I'll be damned if we start soon."

"I've been saying. Brains are for Lisa," Jessica agreed, putting the crowbar on her shoulder. A viscous fluid dripping onto her shoulder caused her to recoil and then look up. Jenda growled as the ridiculously wacky chase began again.

While her friends were fighting for their lives, Terri was bearing witness to the sheer power of the Globex Corporation. For reasons unknown to her, Mr. Black had intervened during the last minute of her surgery, sparing her losing most of her memories. Although things still felt a little foggy. During Jenda's initial attack, Terri was brought up to the roof of the secret laboratory. Where a fleet of helicopters was being loaded with various biological materials and other impossible-to-discern matter. Now an unmarked black Chinook was lifting the remaining wreckage of the UFO into the air, leaving for another base. Mr. Black was eerily silent, unconcerned about the monster wreaking havoc on the lower levels.

Forced to discover her voice, Terri spoke loudly over the alarm. "What are you going to do to me!?" Two tactical squads of armed soldiers, composed of three men each were preparing to reenter the facility. Armed to the teeth, and equipped with body armor, they dashed any hope of escape.

Having forgotten she was there, Mr. Black turned, projecting the frightful visage of a demon. "Nothing, as long as you cooperate." Like all those who wished to peer through the murky water to understand the glinting light that lay below, it was debatable if the abyss had already begun to corrode his heart. Coming over to her, he raised his writhing tentacle, gently stroking her cheek. She immediately pulled away, shivering instinctively. "You are a Mackleberry, no? My appearance shouldn't frighten you so."

Terri's eyes flicked to the appendage that was a bit too involved with her ear. "I am merely frightened by the fact you are a walking cliché." She smirked, swimming with teenage feelings of immortality. "Like come on, Mr. Black. Evil Corporation, human experimentation, messing with forces beyond your comprehension. Tsk-tsk. A tale as old as time."

Humorless as ever, the Globex Director did not react. "I cannot see how any of that is remotely predictable. Our work has been done in the shadows for a reason." He sighed, not surprised a child was failing to appreciate their humanitarian efforts. "Let's keep it simple, shall we? I have a proposition that will be beneficial for us all. The Springfield Investigative Society has been a useful if unknowing tool for us in the past. I'd like to have a more, let's say… professional relationship going forward."

"Um, do you cut all your business partner's brains out?"

"Only if they see something they weren't supposed to." Mr. Black explained dryly, without elaborating on the core point. "Globex likes to keep its corporate secrets secret."

Terri gulped as his tentacle found its way through her earring. "Can you stop molesting my ear? I am not that kind of girl."

Mr. Black retracted his alien arm, placing it behind his back. "Come then, let's take a walk." The tactical squads signaled they were moving and stormed inside the facility. He waited a whole thirty seconds before indicating for her to follow. She was led back down the flights of stairs, descending into the bowels of the lab. They stopped in front of an imposing door with three sets of interlocked steel bars across the front. Humming to himself, the director fished out a key card, sliding it into a reader nearby. There was a hum, then a beep, and finally the door swung open with a hiss.

Terri entered, finding herself staring at monitors that were linked to the cameras across the entire laboratory. There was a control panel, along with six parallel server towers, that hummed loudly. She stepped up to the computers and saw her friends being chased by a rampaging Jenda gasped. "Guys!" She grabbed Mr. Black's sleeve. "Do something!"

"I intend to. Your friends just need to stay alive for now," he said, unperturbed. "Early grafting of Rigellian tissue onto a human host produced unstable results. In Jenda's case, her vapid mind turned out to be a benefit. She is our first true success." He laughed ominously. "Ironic. She has achieved what we have sacrificed so much to become. Yet is incapable of comprehending her new existence."

Terri watched horrified as Jenda charged, knocking Bart against the wall. "What is your point!? She is going to kill him!"

Mr. Black did not move, a smirk forming on his lips. "Or that is what we thought… You could imagine our shock when we realized that in isolation, Jenda had deceived us. She communed with something far greater. But what precisely?" He looked at Terri, his glinting with the lust of a man who sought the pearl in the oyster without being aware its mouth was preparing to snap shut. "My boss would like to know. Therefore, it has fallen to me to recapture her." On the screen, Bart cut himself free of her grip using a scalpel, while Jessica and Sherri, using their crude arsenal, tore into the monster's back. "Luckily, it would seem she's become quite obsessed with that boy."

Unable to stay idle any longer, Terri shouted, "Shut up!" She pressed the button in front of her. "Bart!? Guys!? Can you hear me!?"

The rest of the freaks looked around, puzzled for a minute. Sherri pointed at the microphone in the corner of the hallway. She yelled. "Terri!"

"Listen!" Terri looked from monitor to monitor to put together the layout of the facility. "There is an elevator two left turns from where you are!"

Helping Bart to his feet, her comrades followed her in poor directions. Mr. Black pursed his lips. "Anyway, as I was saying, I will take Jenda off your hands. In exchange, I'd like to hire the Springfield Investigative Society as a subcontractor."

His lack of inflection made Terri wary. His emotionless eyes betrayed a man who was incapable of human empathy. She took a step back. "How does that benefit you?"

"It has come to my attention that we have a leak somewhere in our ranks. I believe your society has been contacted multiple times by this person," Mr. Black responded, having been aware of the situation for a while. He leaned closer to the control panel, flipping three of the switches. "This is an easier way to cut out the middleman. What I am offering you is everything: Globex's resources, contacts, and database regarding the paranormal that continues to plague the entire Springfield area."

As Bart, Sherri, Jessica, and Nelson reached the elevator, a thick reinforced glass gate came crashing down, trapping Jenda in a cage. She clawed at the bars, screeching. The two boys slapped their asses at her in response. Terri giggled cutely at the brazen lack of restraint. Her amusement vanished abruptly. "What do you want in exchange?"

Mr. Black calmly pressed a third purple button. A dark yellow gas filled Jenda's container. She staggered attempting to break out to no avail, and soon fell onto the floor motionless. Her monstrous form receded. "Access to your archives. Detailed reports about any new encounters you investigate."

"Ugh. That sounds like homework."

"Maybe, but surely some homework is worth doing in order to further mankind's development," Mr. Black said softly, reaching into his coat for a radio. He sat nonchalantly, clicking it. "Our intruder has been sedated on floor 3-A. Please fetch her."

Terri rubbed her arm, unable to shake the feeling he was not being honest. "This really isn't my call. We are a team."

Seeing the problem, Mr. Black nodded. "My mistake." He clicked the radio again. "And please bring the new hires to the command room."

Once the rest of the freaks were present, Terri rushed to Bart, squeezing him like a tube of toothpaste. Confused, he asked, "Why aren't you wearing a gown?"

Terri, who was dressed in her clothes, raised an eyebrow. "There was a chest in the operating room. Did you not…?" She looked him up and down, biting her lip. "It's a good look."

Bart rubbed her arm. "Hehe. I was a little tied up with staying alive."

Jessica had other concerns, slapping the crowbar against her palm. "Who is this tool?"

"That is the bastard who did this." Bart said, pointing at the spooky director who was completely motionless.

"Wait. He has a proposal." Terri tried to intervene.

"I propose he kisses my ass." Nelson retorted crassly. "No man should have to wear a fruity lil gown like this."

"It's way too breezy." Sherri agreed, shivering, her bony knees knocking together.

Terri went to her sister, the two of them sharing the shirt, while Mr. Black flatly reiterated his offer. Bart was the first to object. "Get bent dude. You are evil."

"Hmm. It seems the theory about your lack of morals and sociopathic tendencies was incorrect," Mr. Black said, sounding bored.

"Huh?"

His confusion went unaddressed when Jessica changed the subject, eyeing the tentacle. "Okay, I got to know just how much control do you have over that?"

"Total."

"Can you, like… you know?" She gestured in the jerking-off motion. "Or better yet, is it a crowd-pleaser with the ladies?"

Sherri rolled her eyes; Nelson was intrigued. "I bet being a scientific abortion has benefits," he said.

Mr. Black grunted. "Yes or no." He reached into his coat, putting his normal hand on a pistol concealed below his shoulder. He was fully prepared to terminate the entire group. Globex was too close to achieving its goal, to allow them to walk away without an agreement.

The freaks huddled together, whispering. Bart's objections and Nelson's suggestion they run were thrown out given the low chance of success. Eventually, Sherri and Terri looked up. "We accept your offer."

"Excellent. I'll have a contract drawn up."

"On the condition." Jessica interjected. "Stop cutting into our brains."

Placing his tentacle on his chin, Mr. Black shrugged. "That depends entirely on you. Know when to forget something." He motioned toward the exit. "We are ceasing our operations here at Catfish Lake. This facility is to be disassembled. There is a car waiting. I'll be in touch. And I hope you enjoy the employment present."

The "present" turned out to be five neatly arranged, labeled jars. Each holding a piece of floating grey matter. It was a quiet ride back, the freaks awkwardly cradling their gift.

Mr. Black watched as the car disappeared into the trees before turning and walking to the remaining helicopter. Climbing into the vehicle with his soldiers, he slid out a cellphone. Pulling up the antenna he dialed the number for the home office. There were three rings as the aircraft lifted into the air before someone picked up on the other end.

"Hank?" The Director spoke blandly as a series of explosions collapsed the facility. The blast rocked the helicopter, but he did not react, trusting the machine to steady itself. "Operation Moon Dust has concluded there is, however, another matter concerning our new employees." Using his tentacle hand, he raised the Mackleberry medallion, smiling. "It seems your theory was correct. That Old Machine is not the only entity influencing our present." His boss flooded his ear excitedly about the cosmic implications. Enthusiasm that was poorly tolerated by the dry Mr. Black. Who grunted. "Uh—huh. Uh, huh." He massaged his eyelids, finally getting a word in. "I'll keep them under close observation. With luck, our little leak will reveal themselves."

Drained, holding their new paperweights, the freaks dragged themselves back inside the lodge, just as the sun was setting again. They had been gone an entire day and a half. The self-absorbed Lisa had not even noticed their absence. She was too busy listening to her highly selective jazz playlist on her Walkman. Hearing the door open, Lisa looked up, removing one of her earbuds.

She stared at four out of five of Bart's friends wearing flimsy hospital gowns. It was a delicate act to conceal their jars from her prying eyes. Halfway between disgusted and downright puzzled, she asked. "Do I even want to know?

"Drug induced orgy," Jessica said, guessing that was the answer their tag-along wanted to hear. She inched toward the stairs. "I need a shower."

Sherri had a different idea hobbling over to the shower, and wordlessly dunking her head underneath a stream of cold running water. Terri opted for a simpler approach, laying face down on the floor and mumbling. "I wish it was a drug-induced orgy."

Carefully hiding her brain jar behind his leg. Bart looked at Nelson. "So uh… You wanna go take a dip in the lake? That has to count as a bath."

"Don't think I am supposed to swim drunk off my ass," Nelson mumbled, shuffling to the fridge. He took the entire six-pack, replacing it with his new companion. Then shut the door. "But seeing as you can't be alone without something trying to kill you, I suppose I ought to come."

The next morning, while the rest of his friends were packing the bus, Bart found Lisa sitting at the edge of the lake. To say he felt better would be a lie. His sleep was closer to a coma than anything restful and it was impossible to shake the feeling he was missing something pretty important. He took a breath, their first proper conversation in years descending into awkwardness without a word being spoken. "Yo."

"Hey," she said, keeping her eyes on the rippling water.

Bart sat next to her. "Nelson said I should talk to you." She grunted. "Well, what do you think? Are we still a bunch of burn outs with no future?"

Lisa glanced over. "Okay, I admit, that was harsh." There was no reason to apologize, they were siblings. Siblings never apologized, no matter the severity of the crime. "You guys are still weirdos."

"Heh. We get that a lot."

She studied his tired expression. There were deep bags under his eyes, merging uncomfortably with the bruising around his nose. "Are you okay? Seriously. You don't come home much anymore."

Bart could tell she was trying to extend an olive branch. "Yeah, I am fine. Between Nelson, Terri and Fa–." He stopped himself. His sister did not need to know about the mob work. "Nelson and Terri's couches. I have had plenty of places to sleep. One more night and Jerri is going to make me her special meat pie."

"That is good," Lisa said, fixing her headband. She fiddled with her white pearls. "I guess I just wanted to say you were right. Being a Simpson sucks."

His words had been a lot more specific when he had slammed the door on his father. Bart was surprised to hear it from her, of all people. "Whoa, you admitting I am right. Crazy."

"What you did wasn't right. But you were right." Lisa clarified. "Maggie still waits for you to come home some days."

"She has survived eight years of neglect and is as smart as a whip. Mags will be fine," Bart said, having accepted the weight of his guilt a long time ago.

Lisa nodded. "I know she will be. I just wish things could have been different."

For once, she sounded like she meant it. While the edge of hostility was still present, her overall tone was one of reconciliation. They both had been failed in different ways by their parents. Lisa carried the emotionally destructive baggage that came with the label of favorite child, while Bart would forever live with being a failure. Neither wanted to trade burdens that much was understood.

Bart stayed silent. Normally he tried to avoid getting too introspective, but ultimately in this case he sighed. "Lise. This was always how things were going to end up. It just took someone else to help me see why."

He obviously meant Terri's intervention. Bart was not the first person in the world to be saved by the perspective of another. Lisa was glad to know her brother found someone who was on his side. "Sure, but did it have to be one of my bullies?"

"You have called T a shallow bimbo, a couple of times." Bart reminded his sister. A lot of cruel words were said between the three. "Which uh ... I don't know how to tell you this. She's like the second smartest girl I know."

"I'll take your word for it. Her poetry is choppy and stilted," Lisa said critically. She had read a few of the stanzas Terri submitted to a local creative writing challenge. "And more than a little contrived. Everyone knew she was writing about you, not the moon."

"Really? I thought she was scared of the moon," Bart said shocked. He had not picked up on the subtle implications. He became serious again. "Jokes aside, I think for once I get Homer. Girls with weird hair are just different.

He felt a little ridiculous, but it was impossible to ignore the superficial similarities between Marge's outrageous blue beehive and Terri's frizzy mass of purple. Lisa laughed. "I'll take your word for it."

Bart chuckled as well. "Bart Mackleberry has a nice ring to it." He promptly frowned. "Though marrying into the clan has its own risks."

"Such as?"

"Don't know. Their charter is in a different language. Sherri makes it sound scary, though."

Lisa did not follow, choosing to change the subject. "I was going to ask. How'd you do it?"

"Do what?"

"That crazy light show." Lisa said. For all her brains, she was a classic skeptic. Resistant to the prospect of discovering something abnormal. To learn that for all her intelligence, she was nothing to other beings. "The whole coming back wearing a hospital gown." She laughed. "You almost had me, not going to lie."

Bart pursed his lips, standing up again. "If I show you something gross, can you keep it between us?"

"There isn't a body buried somewhere, is there?"

"Possibly, but that is not our fault," Bart said, walking back to the bus. He returned shortly after with the jar of his grey matter. Holding up, he waved at her. "Lise. Meet lil Bart."

Lisa did a double take, there was no denying what was right in front of her. Though she gave it a college try. "Hah, yeah right. Nice prop. Did Sherri and Terri make it?"

"What? No, this is real." He was amazed at her skepticism. "It's full of that stuff, formaldejekyll, I think."

She was about to speak when Terri came up holding her own jar. "He's telling the truth, brain." She snickered at the nickname's relevance before clinking their glasses together. "Do you think we could have a little wedding for our occipital chunks? Mine is getting lonely."

Bart laughed. "Hell yeah, all we need is some ribbon." He became serious. "Actually, I was going to ask. Do you still remember the plot of the House of Usher?"

"Uh, of course I do."

"Oh thank god, cause I doubt your mom is going to believe this story."

Lisa watched them leave, not sure how to feel anymore. It was impossible to tell what was real and what was not. Although her instinct was that fake brains in a jar were something the twins would come up with considering their last prank on her involved lots of fake blood and the gym shower. Though part of her was beginning to believe, she needed to trust them. Lisa ultimately made an internal compromise, as the intelligent and free-thinking skeptic she was would do her own research. Then, once collecting sufficient data, present a lecture to Nelson who would be obliged to listen out of his love for her musical voice. Simple, a fun distraction from the drudgery of college prep.