Chapter 5: Cats & Dogs Part 2

The following morning saw Maggie march into her classroom with a smile on her face and her father's diorama in her arms. From underneath the blue tarp haphazardly laid over it, the rods glowed an eerie green. This did not go unnoticed by some of the students in Maggie's class who gathered around her desk for a closer peek. "What do you have under there, Maggie?" One of the girls, a nerdy girl named Violet Macklemore, asked

"Nah uh uh!" Maggie waved her finger. "You'll have to wait until my turn at Show-and-Tell but I'll tell you this much, it's gonna blow your mind!"

"It's probably just glow-in-the-dark putty on a stick!" A familiar voice taunted. Maggie's smiling face reverted to an annoyed scowl as her mortal enemy Gerald marched up to her desk, his bushy unibrow furrowed over his eyes. "Or maybe it's just a lame glow stick standing upright!" Gerald as well as the two cronies behind him broke into laughter.

"Don't even think of touching it Gerald!" Maggie warned. "Or I'll have to open a whole can of whoop-ass on you...again!"

"Give me a break!" Gerald dismissed with a swipe of his hand. "As if I'd waste time and effort to destroy one of your lame projects."

"You destroyed my Toothpick T-Rex!" Maggie snarled.

"I already told you that was an accident and besides, it's your own stupid fault for bringing it in before today." Just then, the bell rang, signifying the beginning of the class day. Gerald nodded to his cronies and walked back to his own desk, stopping briefly to taunt Maggie one more time. "Not that it matters. Whatever you have under that tarp, I'm sure it's as lame as you are, Starfish Head!"

"Monobrow!" Maggie growled back, her body trembling with undiluted rage. This is how it often was between Maggie Simpson and Gerald Samson. One would think that the two children would have forgotten their infant rivalry upon gaining the ability to walk and talk. However, it would seem that reaching those milestones only served to intensify their hatred for each other. Recently, it had even gotten to the point of a all-out prank war which, given who her big brother was, gave Maggie the advantage. The corners of her lips curved upwards as the memory of the day she filled Gerald's locker with rotten crab meat she stole from the dumpster behind the Frying Dutchman crossed her mind.

Regardless, she took a deep breath and fixed herself into her seat as her teacher, Mr. Peacock walked in. Today there would be no pranks nor any need for them. Only the stunned look on Gerald's stupid face when Mr. Peacock and the rest of the class gawked at the real nuclear rods within her diorama.

"Alright class! I'm sure you're just as excited for Show-and-Tell as I am!" Mr. Peacock sang. The heavyset dark-skinned man had white hair, an orange shirt and maroon pants. He let out a loud groan as he sat down into his green revolving chair and spun around a few times. "Now, who would like to go first?"

Several students raised their hands, eager to show off their pet rocks and sea shells swiped from the shoreline. Among those raised hands was Maggie's, accompanied by excited hoots in the hopes of grabbing Mr. Peacock's attention.

It worked.

"Let's start with Miss Simpson." Mr. Peacock suggested as he beckoned the young girl to the front of the classroom. The noise died down and the rest of his pupils watched with bated breath and keen interest as Maggie happily scampered to the chalkboard. Gerald, who happened to the be sitting in the first row of the class, stretched out his foot before Maggie in hopes of tripping her. Unfortunately for him, Maggie had Lisa Simpson as an older sister and so was keen enough to notice his foot, carefully step over it, and blow a raspberry at his stunned face before taking her place by Mr. Peacock's desk.

"It's not even 9 and I've already gotten the class eating out of the palm of my hand and humiliated Gerald." Maggie mentally beamed. "This is going to be the best day of my life." With her excitement boiling over, Maggie gripped the tarp in her left hand. "Ladies and Gentlemen of class 306! I give to you, my personal and totally made by myself representation of my father's work place! I give to you, the Springfield Nuclear Power Plant! Now with real nuclear rods!" With this last sentence, Maggie tore off the tarp and held the diorama in front of her for the class to see.

The "ooos" and "awws." of the children were drowned out by Mr. Peacock's girlish screams of terror

"I'm sorry. You want me to what?" Nelson asked uneasily. Of course, he had heard Bart and Milhouse's request loud and clear. There wasn't anyone else in the hallway aside from the janitor, Hallsweeper Millie and while she was just as ornery as her cousin Willie, she was currently mumbling the lyrics to the song blasting in her ears from her headphones as she mopped up the freshest batch of puke on the floor. Nelson just wanted to make them repeat it, just to ensure that what they had asked was real and not a figment of his imagination.

"I said, we want you to be Milhouse's coach and help him beef up a little." Bart repeated.

"Yeah! I wanna have muscles on my muscles!" Milhouse shouted excitedly.

"Real men don't quote Spongebob." Bart stated flatly.

"Sorry."

"I don't know." Nelson rubbed the back of his head. "I mean, no offense Milhouse but you once fainted when a balloon hit your head. A helium balloon."

"It didn't just hit me. It popped against my frontal lobe!" Milhouse defended angrily.

"Milhouse! Calm down!" Bart grabbed his friend's shoulders and pulled him away from Nelson. "Look Nelson, I know it's asking a lot but Milhouse really needs this!"

"Why exactly?" Nelson pressed further. "Is it so you stop getting thrown into the trash every 7th period? So you can finally get a girlfriend? Personal self-esteem?"

"All of the above!" Milhouse cried out excitedly before falling to his knees and holding his hands together toward Nelson. "Please Nelson! You're my only hope!"

Bart sighed and held his hand over his head. He was no stranger to second-hand embarrassment on account of his blue-haired friend but that didn't make it any easier.

Nelson put his fingers to his chin and thought. "Well, I suppose it couldn't hurt to try. And it's not like I have anything better to do until Friday." Nelson sighed. "Alright. Meet me at my place after school. I'll let you use my weights but you can't sue if you pass out alright?"

"Thanks Nelson!" Milhouse shouted. "You're the best!"

"Don't mention it." Nelson's face suddenly became grim. "No seriously. Don't mention this to anyone. I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea about me because I invited two guys over."

"Agreed." Bart murmured as he grabbed Milhouse's shirt collar and yanked him back to his feet. "See ya after school Nelson!"

"Later Dingisus." With a quick wave, Nelson fixed his backpack and made his way down the hallway. Once he was gone, both Bart and Milhouse cheered.

"Alright! It's happening! I'm going to get my dream bod and then Lisa's sure to notice me!"

"Or a girl of equal or lesser value." Bart quickly whispered under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Come on. Let's book it to class before we're late." Bart gave his friend a quick pat on the back to urge him forward. Hallsweeper Millie watched as the two teens rushed down the hall toward class. "Aww! Everyday, the students of this school remind me of my own youthful days back in the countryside." She muttered dreamily, only to immediately scowl. "I hated those days!" The Scotswoman continued to mumble to herself as she finished up the remaining vomit.

"Hmmm...no...not that one...maybe that one?" Lisa whispered to herself as she scanned the bookshelf before her. It was lunchtime and as the school refused to provide vegetarian options, Lisa always opted to bring her own lunch which she usually ate quickly. Afterwards, she would spend the reminder of the the lunch period in the library, usually leaving with a new book or two. On this particular day, Lisa was looking for a particular kind of book. One that would provide her with the answer to her current dilemma involving the animal mills. But so far, nothing turned up. "There's got be a book with something that could help me!" Lisa thought as she brushed her fingers across the wall of book spines.

She was snapped out of her stupor by the sound of Bleeding Gums Murphy's song Jazzman playing from her pocket. Not wanting her ring tone to disturb the other students currently in the library, (there were none) she quickly took it out of her pocket and pressed ACCEPT on the screen. "Hello?"

"Lisa?" A voice asked from the other end. "It's me. Clarissa. From the shelter."

"Oh! Hi Clarissa!" Lisa happily chirped. Most of the time Lisa rescued animals as the Animal Avenger, she would drop them off in front of the shelter discreetly under the cover of darkness. The staff were every bit as afraid of the Animal Avenger as the rest of Springfield but still took their jobs very seriously and helped to heal and rehome the animals regardless. Every so often, however, Lisa would bring in a animal as herself so as to avoid raising suspicion. This how Lisa met and befriended an aide known as Clarissa Brownen. She was a pretty brunette with her hair done in a ponytail and little blue jewels hanging from her earrings. The two were fairly close, enough to the point that they had exchanged numbers, although they usually talked about the animals. "How are you?" Lisa asked.

"Lisa," Clarissa's voice sounded crestfallen which immediately put Lisa on alert. "I have some bad news."

Lisa felt her lips quiver as she could already sense where this conversation was headed. "It...It's the kittens, isn't it?"

"...yeah." Clarissa confirmed. "They were all sick and riddled with parasites but they were still far too young for the proper medicine. They...they didn't make it Lisa. None of them."

Lisa's heart sank like a stone. She already knew this grave outcome was a likely possibility given the circumstances but it didn't help to ease the blow even a little. Tears began to well up in her eyes and she had to cover her mouth so as to avoid letting out a cry that would alert others to her misfortune.

"Lisa?" Clarissa asked. "Are you there?"

"Y-Yeah! I'm here." Lisa nodded. "I'm alright. Just a little...shocked is all. I'm sorry about the kittens."

"Me too. Look Lisa. It's not your fault. It's nobody's fault. Sometimes these kind of things just happen. It's fucked up but it's life."

"But it is someone's fault." Lisa thought grimly. "That fucker Wolfe! It's his fault. Those poor babies would have never been born into such a hellish situation if it weren't for him. And right now, the same thing is happening to hundreds of other kittens and puppies!" The very thought made Lisa's blood boil.

"Look, I gotta go. Gotta take these poor angels to the crematorium. I'll talk to you later ok?"

"Ok. See ya." Lisa hung up quickly and wiped her eyes again, this time with enough aggressiveness to make them sting. "Shit." She spent the next minute fighting the urge to rub her eyes again while they teared up and flushed out the unwelcome fibers from her cotton jacket. Once that was over, she aggressively resumed her search for the book that would provide the knowledge she needed to destroy Wolfe and Gato. She would make them pay for what they've done if it was the last thing she did.

As she combed through the books like a thief hastily searching for a family's prized jewels, she accidently ripped one of them out of the shelf. It landed on her foot, not hard enough to cause pain but enough for Lisa to take notice and look down. She picked the book up and examined the cover.

Booby Traps and Antipersonnel Devices read the title. A picture of a tripwire surrounded by bushes and trees rested underneath.

"Booby traps." Lisa whispered to herself as she flipped through the book. There weren't too many traps within it's pages that seemed applicable to the current situation but a few did catch her eye, enough to make her decide to check it out once the bell rang. "It would seem the Buddha is on my side after all." She thought as she approached the librarian's desk with the book in hand. The thought made her smile.

"I'm glad you could come in today, Mr. and Mrs. Simpson." The heavyset man behind the principal's desk greeted. "I'm sorry to have pulled you in on such short notice."

"Don't sweat it man. Any excuse to get out of work is a good one! That's what I always say!" Homer laughed out loud. He turned to his wife and knocked his shoulder into hers, trying to get her to join in. Upon seeing her disgruntled face however, he ceased his guffawing and turned away with a whimper. Marge let out a murmur of disapproval and turned her attention to the principal. "What seems to be the problem Principal Groening?" She asked. "Did Maggie do something wrong?"

To the right of Principal Groening's desk, Maggie lowered her head.

The gray-haired man sighed heavily before speaking. "The issue isn't so much as what she did as what she brought in." Groening reached down behind his desk and pulled out Maggie's diorama. Marge gasped in shock at the sight of the nuclear rods sticking out of the fake reactors.

"A-Are those nuclear rods?" Marge turned sharply to Homer. "What is the meaning of this Homer."

Homer twiddled his thumbs as he responded. "Maggie was really upset that she didn't have anything for show-and-tell and I happened to have those rods lying around so I whipped up a little diorama for her."

"Lying around?" Marge growled. "You mean to tell me you brought radioactive materials from the power plant to our home!?"

Homer waved his hand dismissively. "Come on Marge! A little radiation never killed anyone."

"Mr. Simpson!" Groening suddenly shouted. "This is a serious situation! Your daughter brought very dangerous materials that could have very well killed her and her classmates if Mr. Peacock hadn't intervened! We're all lucky that this place isn't a giant oozing hole in the ground right now!" Groening stared daggers at Homer, causing the power plant safety inspector to cower in his seat.

"I'm so sorry about my husband's mistake." Marge pleaded. "Please don't expel Maggie for this."

Groening's gaze softened upon seeing Marge and he recomposed himself. "Fear not Mrs. Simpson. I'm well aware that this incident is of no fault on your daughter's account. That being said, I must insist she go home for the rest of the day and that she take this thing with her." He glared down at the diorama. "Being in the nuclear energy business, I'm sure your husband will be able to dispose of it properly."

"He most certainly will, right Homer!?" Now it was Marge's turn to stare daggers at Homer.

"W-W-What ever you say honey!" Homer quickly got out of his seat, scooped up the diorama in his hands and walked toward the door. Marge and Maggie got out of their seats as well, the former turning to Groening one last time. "I'm so sorry about this whole mess, Principal Groening."

"It's fine. Just get that thing out of here." Groening requested. Once the Simpsons were out of the room, Groening buzzed his secretary and asked for a aspirin. Dealing with them usually resulted in a headache and he could feel one coming along already. Afterward, he twirled his chair around and gazed upon the picture of his predecessor Seymour Skinner on the wall. After his mother had died of natural causes, Skinner gained a great sum of money from her life insurance and was able to quit his job as principal. He moved out of Springfield and hasn't been heard from since. Groening had often heard horror stories of the kind of students under Skinner's tenure, the worst being a young lad by the name of Bart Simpson. Groening still remembered the day he encountered his baby sister Maggie.

It was after the introduction ceremony at the beginning of the school year. He was approached by this strange little girl with starfish-shaped hair the same color as her skin. She looked as if she wanted to say something to him but out of what Groening at the time could only deduce was shyness, wouldn't spit it out. Groening found this enduring, cute even, and decided to speak up first. "And who might you be little girl?"

"M-Maggie Simpson." She uttered, most of her gaze directed at the floor.

Groening felt his heart skip a beat when she mentioned the name Simpson. "Simpson." He thought. "As in Bart Simpson? Is she related to that monster?" He studied her closely for any signs of mischief but found none. Her face radiated with an innocence that shone like the Sun. Her smile put Groening at ease and it was then that he recalled another Simpson child of legacy. Bart's other sister, Lisa Marie Simpson, was known as his polar opposite. Sweet, smart, and a overall model student. Perhaps Maggie had taken after he instead?"

His thoughts were interrupted by the youngest Simpson sibling reaching out her hand to him. "I look forward to having you as a principal for the school year!"

Groening let out a sigh of relief. It would seem that is fears were unfounded after all. He took Maggie's hand and shook it...

...only to feel the sharp sting of 10 volts running through his hand.

As he would come to learn, Maggie was something of a hybrid of her older sibling's personalities. From her brother, she had inherited a love of pranking and vandalism that stressed Groening to no end. This side of her she flaunted in front of her peers, earning her a strange respect from most of them that Groening couldn't understand. From her sister Lisa, however, Maggie clearly inherited her smarts as evidenced by her high grades. This sides she seemed to keep secret and while Groening did sometimes feel tempted to out Maggie as a bookworm as payback for her pranks, he figured it was best not to poke that sleeping tiger.

Rubbing his temples, he turned back to the door just as his secretary came in with his aspirin. "That Simpson girl is going to be the death of me." He thought as he took out a water bottle from his desk.

"One!" Nelson shouted.

Milhouse strained with agony as he tried to lift the dumbbell in his hand. The dark blue block of cast iron threatened to take his entire right arm with it to the ground and while he wouldn't admit it, Milhouse was certain he had peed himself a little in the process of trying to lift it.

Nelson sighed before repeating his command. "One!"

"I'm trying!" Milhouse replied through gritted teeth as he he put his back into lifting the dumbbell. With a whimper of effort, the blue-haired teen was finally able to lift the dumbbell over himself. "I did it!" Milhouse was so elated in his progress that he relax his arm with the dumbbell still in his hand, resulting in it dragging him off the bench and onto the ground.

"Oh brother." Bart muttered as Nelson pinched the bridged of his nose and shook his head. The three boys were at Nelson's house. It was about as dirty and decrepit as it used to be, not a single window left unboarded and the front door missing a knob. Both the front and back yards were overgrown and in the latter, Nelson's exercise equipment lay scattered amongst the crabgrass, some of it sporting rust. His mother was currently out on a job, the same one she had had to support Nelson for all these years.

"Let me try again! I know I can do it!" Milhouse pleaded as he struggled to pick up the dumbbell with both hands. Nelson walked up to him and gently took it out of his friend's hands.

"Look Milhouse. It's clear you need to build some upper body strength to use this stuff." He explained. "How about for now, we stick with basic exercise?"

"Like push-ups and sit-ups?" Milhouse asked?

Nelson nodded.

"Alright!" Milhouse laid back down on his back while Nelson held his feet down. Putting his hands behind his head, Milhouse strained as he tried to lift his upper body off the ground.

Bart smiled as it seemed Milhouse was having an easier time with this than the dumbbell but was distracted by the sound of flirtatious giggling from the other side of the fence. He turned his head and was surprised to see Jessica Lovejoy and her entourage looking over into the yard.

"Hey Nelson." Jessica cooed. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

"Um sure?" Nelson turned to Bart. "You hold down his feet and make sure to keep track of how many sit ups he does."

Bart nodded and took Nelson's place as the Captain of the football team went up to the fence. "So what do you want Lovejoy?"

"I just wanted to know if you're ready for the big game on Friday?" Jessica asked in her most coy voice. "You know I'll be rooting for you."

"Well duh." Nelson answered flatly. "You're a cheerleader. That's kinda your job."

Jessica and her friends burst into laughter. "Oh Nelson! You're so funny!"

"Why?" Nelson asked, unsure as to what he actually said that could be warranted as funny. Behind him, Milhouse struggled to get that first sit-up in. Jessica noticed this and pointed at the two boys. "Might I ask what's going on there?"

"Huh?" Nelson turned around briefly to see what Jessica was pointing at and turned back with a "ahah!" look on his face. "Ah! We're trying to build some muscle on Van Houten's dorky body. It's...a work in progress."

"Oh God I think I felt something pop!" Milhouse cried.

"Right." Jessica deadpanned. "Well make sure to come see me after the big game. I may or may not have a surprise for you." She giggled.

"Surprise? You mean like a cake?" Nelson asked with a hint of hopefulness in his voice.

Jessica and her cronies laughed as they walked down the alleyway, allowing Nelson to walk back to his friends.

"I can believe Jessica didn't even say so much as a hello to me!" Bart complained.

"What do you care?" Nelson asked. "You guys used to date or something?"

"Yeah actually. It was pretty heavy." Of course, Bart was referring to the time that Jessica had led him on as a child and framed him for stealing the collection plate at church. But he wasn't about to tell Nelson that.

"Well I wouldn't get to hung up on her. You know what they say. Bitches man."

"Says the guy simping after goths." Bart deadpanned.

"Shut up!" Nelson shook his head. "By the way, how's Dorkuhantus' progress?"

"Right now we're at..." As Bart turned around he found himself face to face with an exhausted Milhouse who then fell back with a thud. "One."

Nelson slapped his palm to his face.

Dinner at the Simpson's table was a little tense that evening. Homer and Maggie both quietly munched their roast beef with much less enthusiasm than they usually had at mealtime, never taking their eyes off their plates. Marge, on the utter hand, was shoving food into her mouth at a rough pace, murmuring and grunting all the while as she chewed angrily. Bart and Lisa would have most likely broken the ice and asked what was going on between their parents and youngest sibling if they weren't occupied with dilemmas of their own. While Bart was busy contemplating how doomed his friend's journey for muscles was, Lisa was thinking over the traps she had read about in her latest library book and which one would be the most useful for taking out the escaping mill. After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Marge finally made a request of Homer.

"I want you to return the rods to the power plant tomorrow."

"Yes dear." Homer agreed.

This was the last conversation the family would have that night.

The next morning, as promised, Homer took the diorama with him to work. He kept it with him in the front seat and covered it with a towel so as to avoid being stopped at the gate. The Springfield Nuclear Power Plant looked very much the same as it did eight years ago. The only real differences one would notice was the pitch-black paint job and the absence of the unseen crow that used to call every morning. Birds only lived for so long after all, especially when they hung around a radioactive death trap such as this one. Homer made his way inside, clocked in and headed for the break room for his usual morning donut. He needed it now more than ever.

To no surprise, he found his friends Lenny Leonard and Carl Carlson conversing in front of the donut table. Appearance-wise, they didn't seem all that much different aside from some greying hair. However, life had been rather eventful for the two drinking buddies. They experimented with each other for a time before realizing that they were better off just friends and a year later, Lenny found his future wife Christy who was currently expecting their first child. Carl was still in and out of the dating game (currently out) and had taken up a hobby in wood carving which he later turned into a side business. Despite these changes, they still frequented Moe's bar with Homer almost every evening. Some things really never changed.

"Hey guys." Homer greeted glumly as he made his way into the donut boxes.

"Hiya Homer." Lenny responded.

"Yeah Good Morning Homer." Carl followed, only to notice Homer's depressed demeanor. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Marge is mad at me because I gave my kid some rods to show off at school." He answered as he shifted through the donuts like files in a cabinet. "It was those rods Mr. Burns said I had to get rid of but forgot about." Homer sighed happily when he finally found the donut he was looking for, his coveted pink-frosted donut with sprinkles, and shoved it into his mouth. "Now I gotta find a way to dump them here."

"Geez Homer." Carl commented. "Aren't you afraid you'll get in trouble for bringing back toxic waste you were told to dispose of?"

"Only if Mr. Burns or that jerk Smithers find out." Homer replied. "Hehe. What a jerk."

"Um...Homer?" Lenny uttered. He looked nervous for some reason as did Carl and they were both looking behind Homer.

"What?"

"Mr. Simpson." Smither's voice spoke gravely from behind Homer. "I'll need you to come with me to Mr. Burns office."

"D'oh!"

Homer hated going into Mr. Burns's office. He always left in either one of three ways, falling down a trapdoor, being chased by vicious hounds or simply being fired although that last one never really stuck and hadn't been an issue for quite some time. Nevertheless, the other two events were never fun to deal with and he couldn't help but ponder what his fate would be once Mr. Burns had thoroughly chewed him up and spit him out. And of course, he could lose his job again, maybe this time for good.

As Smithers led him to the office, Homer forced himself to approach the figured sitting behind the desk. Various tubes and wires were attached to the elderly man's back and as he looked up at Homer, his one human eye glared at him while the cybernetic eye in his left socket glowed a eerie blood-red. Like most rich people, Mr. Burns was the kind of man who would do anything and everything to avoid death's icy grip. He had already undergone several lifespan stretching surgeries by the time Homer's father died and underwent several more after that but his frail organic body could only hold out so much. It was around Bart's 13th birthday that Mr. Burns began to invest in machines to keep himself alive and as the years went on, he seemed to become less and less human. From what Homer was once told by his coworkers, Mr. Burns entire digestive tract had been replaced and his heart acted more like an organic rechargeable battery. Of course, this all served to only make Burns more intimidating than before.

Burns scanned the frightful safety inspector with his cybernetic eye and read through the information file that appeared within his vision. "Ah. Homer Simpson aye? Smithers tells me that you have not only failed to dispose of a couple of nuclear rods you were clearly commanded to get rid of but that you also brought them back here."

Homer turned his head to face the scowling Smithers. The ever-loyal assistant to Mr. Burns looked very much the same as he always did aside from a small mustache and some wrinkles. He wore a black suit nowadays and now had his own pack of wolverines to sic on employees who dared to displease him. In some ways, he had become every bit as fearsome as the old crone himself. Homer cowered under Smither's hateful gaze and turned back to Mr. Burns. "Y-Yes sir. I had forgotten about the r-rods and was trying to bring them back here." He lifted up the diorama in his hands and removed the towel covering it.

Mr. Burn's human eye widened upon seeing the diorama, only to narrow in contempt. "What is the meaning of this Simpson? What have you done to those rods!?"

"M-My kid was having a show-and-tell yesterday and her dinosaur thingy got destroyed so I made her this." Homer could feel sweat flowing across every inch of his body and and nervously tugged at his shirt collar. "Their might have been some trouble with the principal but nothing ser-

"Good God man!" Burns interrupted. "You let your child bring these rods to school!? Are you mad?"

"C-Come on!" Homer's voice was beginning to shake. "They're just a couple of dumb rods! How dangerous could they be?"

"First of all, those rods are a by-product of creating nuclear energy and as such are radioactive." Smithers barked as he approached Homer. "Second, there's been a recent study that revealed that nuclear rods are highly subjectable to exploding. All it'll take is even the smallest bit of force and those rods could blow everything within several miles of them to kingdom come!"

"Yes." Burns agreed as his assistant took his place at his side. "My lawyers, the ones still alive anyway, advised me that I get rid of all the rods I had. I had most of them shipped off to Shelbyville in the hopes of killing my rival Aristotle Amadopolis. But alas, those blasted U-2 Move Crew dullards left two of them behind. That's when you came in, Simpson, you were given a task so easy, it warranted no extra pay and yet here are the rods right in front of us and ready to blast us all to Hell at the slightest provocation!"

"Please don't fire me Mr. Burns!" Homer pleaded. "I'll get rid of the rods! I promise."

"See that you do." Mr. Burns hissed. "You are to keep that...thing in your control room for the day. If it explodes in there, the lead paint we have in that area should lessen the damage. Afterward, you are to take it home and dispose of it in a way that can't be traced back to me! Do you understand?"

"Sir, yes sir!" Homer saluted.

"If you fail me this time, not only will you'll be fired, you'll be...FIRED!" As Burns shouted out that final word, a wave of flames erupted from his mouth at Homer. They stopped just short of Homer but the stray embers they produced still caught on his clothes, causing Homer run screaming out of the office as both of his superiors laughed. "I knew that internal flamethrower would be a good investment." The robotic Burns turned sharply to his aide. "Make sure to pay off the school so that they don't report this incident."

"How much hush-hush money are we talking about here sir?" Smithers asked.

"Let's make it a cheap $8,000. Lord knows that fool Groening is even more spineless than that damnable Skinner was. He'll bend. No doubt about it."

"Yes sir." Smithers made his way out of the office as Mr. Burns lifted up both of his robotic limbs and tented the fingers on his table, his usual evil smile revealing his unnaturally white teeth.

"Excellent."

After a more stressful day at work than usual, Homer sighed in relief when he turned the corner into Walnut Street where, next to King Tut's Music Store where Lisa's former teacher, Mr. Largo now worked at, was his beloved watering hole, his precious sanctuary where he could rest and recover from the hard working day.

Moe's Tavern.

The old place was falling apart but that was never any news to Homer or his fellow barflies whose cars he could already see parked outside. Barney Gumble's car was not among them of course nor had it been for the past four years. After wrestling with his alcoholism for years, Barney finally won the fight and became completely sober. Part of Homer was happy that his friend turned his life around but that didn't make the well-sat barstool by his side any less empty. Pushing aside those feelings of tragic nostalgia, Homer parked his car and stumbled into the bar.

Lenny and Carl were already in the middle of a conversation while Moe was wiping a beer mug clean with minimum effort. All three men turned their heads toward the front door as the bell rang and greeted Homer with smiles and raised glasses.

"Hiya Homer!" Moe spoke. "What'll it be?"

The usual." Homer replied as he took a seat on his usual stool. "Duff with the possibility of more Duff."

"You got it!" Moe placed the barely clean mug he was wiping under the Duff tap and filled it to the brim. The years had not been too kind to Moe. He hardly ever had a date and when he did it rarely lasted past three hours. He had lost his left eye in a poker game gone wrong and now wore a black eye patch over the socket. His hair was almost gone save for a line around the back of his scalp, making him look very much like Largo from next door. Finally, a run-in with the Springfield Mafia took away his right hand. As Homer drank his beet, Moe clasped another dirty mug with his metal prosthetic and started wiping it half-assed as well.

"So Homer," Carl spoke up. "How'd it go with Mr. Burns?

"Yeah?" Lenny added. "Are we gonna see you tomorrow or what?"

"Relax guys." Homer reassured them. "I still got my job. Mr. Burns just said I need to get rid of the rods properly this time." He took the diorama out of his jacket and set it on the bar, much to Moe's annoyance.

"Hey hey! What have I told you about putting hazardous materials on my counter!?" He barked.

"Sorry Moe. The spot that I've been keeping that thing is starting to itch real bad." Homer scratched himself from underneath the jacket as he said this.

"Fine but make it fast." Moe looked the diorama over as Homer scratched himself. "Say, this kinds looks like one of them science projects. Did you make this for one of your kids?"

"Maggie." Homer replied. "She had a Show and Tell yesterday and some punk kid destroyed her dinosaur sculpture." Homer sighed. "Her stupid teacher sent her to the principal's office for this stupid thing."

"That no good...err.." Moe shook his head. There was one positive change to Moe's status quo over the years and that was Maggie Simpson. As if she still remembered the times he took care of her as a baby, Maggie just seemed to gravitate to Moe like a favorite uncle. No amount of revulsive habits or hateful dialogue seemed to scare her away and in time, Moe accepted that being pestered by this adorable little shrimp was part of his life now. Of course, this made Moe all the more hateful of anyone who would dare to hurt her." No, no. The teacher did what they had to, school safety and all that." Moe pointed a metal finger at Homer. "Who's really to blame for this is that snot nosed brat who done destroyed her project in the first place. Just give me his address Homer and I'll give him a one-way ticket to eyepatch town!" Moe turned his thumb toward his eyepatch as he said this.

"Thanks Moe." Homer drank the last of the contents in his mug with a single swig and held out his mug for more. "You're all right."

Homer spent the next two hours drinking peacefully. with his friends. Occasionally he would try to think about how he was to dispose of the rods, only to lose said thought to another sip of Duff.

"Damnit! That's won't work either!" Lisa angrily crumpled up the paper on her desk and threw it against the wall. It bounced a little on the floor before laying still amongst more of its brethren on the floor. Lisa dug her fingers into her scalp and sighed. "This is hopeless!" She thought. "Every trap in that damn book either won't work for this situation or requires something I don't have. Meanwhile those poor cats and dogs are just suffering endlessly." Lisa forced herself to take a deep breath and recompose herself. "I can't lose control like this and I can't give up either. I'll go into the kitchen, grab a quick snack and maybe then the answer will come to me." Lisa got up from her desk and walked into the hallway, wondering which piece of fruit in the fruit bowl on her mother's table would serve as her snack. Before she could come to a conclusive answer, however, her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her sister softly crying. Peeking into Maggie's room, Lisa saw the 8 year-old girl curled up on her bed, letting her tears soak into her pillow. "Maggie?" She asked.

Maggie looked up from the pillow, her eyes bloodshot and her cheeks stained with tears. "Go away!" She demanded.

"Maggie, what's wrong?" Lisa walked into the room. With the various dinosaur and vehicle toys scattered around the floor and the bookshelf to the right of the room and the model rockets and planets hanging from the ceiling, the room was a mix match of both her and Bart's rooms when they were around Maggie's age. "Ow! Son of a bitch!" Lisa cried as she pulled her bare foot away from the plates of a red stegosaurs toy. She landed on the bed while holding her her foot and once the pain had ebbed away a little, she turned back to her crying little sister. "Maggie, come on. You can tell me." She gently rubbed her sister's back.

"I..I...I got Dad in trouble the other day." Maggie tearfully explained. "It's my fault Mom's mad at him."

"Oh Maggie! Come on. Sit up!" Lisa coaxed her sister into picking herself up and sitting on the bed with her. She leaned against Lisa with all her weight and Lisa allowed her too. "You have nothing to fell sorry for. Dad's the one that gave you those stupid rods in the first place. He's always been doing stupid stuff like that since me and Bart were kids."

Maggie looked up to Lisa, wiping the last of her tears from her eyes.

"And Maggie? Let's be honest here. Mom and Dad have a freaking fight like every week. But they always make up in the end."

"R-Really?" Maggie asked.

Lisa nodded and hugged her sister close. "You'll see. Everything will be alright." It was at that moment that both sisters heard the sound of the front door slamming open. Curious, they both ran to the top of the stairwell in time to see their father fall face-first into the house. In his outstretched hands, was Maggie's diorama.

"Dad's back from the bar! And he brought the rods back!" Maggie ran downstairs toward her father and Lisa followed. Both sisters helped their Dad up on his feet, the diorama still clasped firmly in his hands. "Dad! Mom told you to get rid of those rods!" Maggie tried to grab the diorama only for Homer to pull it away.

"No Maggie! You have to be careful!" Homer warned, his breath reeking of Duff and beer nuts. "Mr. Burns said the rods are explosive, the slightest force could set them off."

"What!?" Lisa cried. "Then why did you bring them back here!?"

"Mr. Burns said I have to get rid of them right this time." Homer lost his consciousness at that very moment and fell back to the floor. Lisa managed to snatch the diorama away from his hands as he fell.

"This is bad!" Maggie cried. "Mom's gonna be totally pissed when she finds out Dad brought the rods back!"

Lisa looked over the diorama. The rods had come a little loose within side their reactors but didn't have any cracks in them just yet. Lisa pushed her thumb against the middle of the diorama, realizing at once that it was hollow inside. An idea began to form in her mind, one that would solve her father's problem as well as her own. "Don't worry Maggie." Lisa said with a small smile. "I know how to dispose of these rods. You just leave everything to me."

(So yeah. Looks like this is gonna be a three-parter. Sorry about that. Also, I'm aware that I'm taking some scientific liberties with how nuclear energy works but please bear with me. This was a hard enough chapter to write as it is. I have a few other stories to work on at the moment but hopefully, within a few weeks, I can start writing this story and Jigoku Files back to back. Until then, BSC out!)