Lisa Simpson: Animal Avenger

by Bloody Simpson Chibi

A lot can happen in eight years. People can die. Relationships can wither. What was cruel can become kind-hearted and what was innocent can become the very thing nightmares are made of. This is the story of a girl named Lisa Marie Simpson and her descent into darkness. Rated M. Takes place 8 years after the main timeline. AV by kittiesofcupcakes and used with permission

22. Pacific Grim (The Preshow)

The Springfield Bunion Festival was one of many, many, many annual traditions the town enjoyed. It was also one of the lamest. Its whole reason for existence was apparently to celebrate the day that, after suffering for two weeks with the damn thing, Jedidiah Springfield was able to finally remove the bunion from his left foot. Of course, anyone with half a brain could tell that this festival only really existed as another excuse for the adults of this town to get drunk and waste their hard-earned money on useless garbage. Hammering in on the insincerity of it all was how cheap all the booths were. Everywhere one might look, it was nothing but toys bought from the Kwik-E-Mart with the NOT FOR RESALE tags still attached, plushies stolen from crane machines in Shelbyville and Capital City and deep fried food ripped directly from the store-bought package.

Even at the tender age of 10, Lisa Marie Simpson was not impressed.

"Wow!" Homer awed as he scanned the booths, mostly for something to cram down his mouth. "Look at all the booths! I love the Springfield Bunion Festival!"

"I'm sure you do, Dad." Lisa sighed. "I'm sure you do."

Homer looked down worriedly at his little girl. With Marge and Maggie visiting Bart in the hospital after another attempt at his life by Sideshow Bob, who they hoped would stay behind bars this time, Homer thought it would be a good idea to take Lisa to the festival so she could get her mind off things. He should have known better than to think a couple of cheap food and game booths would be enough to tickle the fancy of someone like Lisa and Homer kicked himself for only realizing that now. "Oh come on, Lisa! I know it's not exactly Diz-Knee-Land but you got to at least try to-OHH! Fried Boreos!"

Homer pulled his daughter after him as he rushed to the booth selling the deep-fried cookies. Manning the booth was none other than Jeremy Freedman, otherwise known as the Squeaky-Voiced Teen. "What can I get for you sir?" He asked in his namesake.

"Your deepest and friedest Boreos my good man!" Homer requested in the most regal voice he could muster as he placed his money on the counter. "And please, be generous with the chocolate syrup!"

Jeremy nodded as he prepared Homer's treat. As her father watched on, salivating beyond what any mortal man should be capable of, a bored Lisa found her gaze wondering. "This is so stupid," She thought. "I honestly believe this is a new low, even for Springfield. I mean, a whole festival for our founder removing a freaking bunion? Please!" Her expression soured further as she scanned the booths around her. "And look at these cheap booths! Not a single one of the prizes are worth anything! Not the copyright-safe, Mitchy and Fratchy dolls, not the old Radioactive Man plushies with the lightening bolt missing, not the-

And then Lisa gasped as her eyes fell on the booth directly to her right, practically in front of her. It was just a normal gun range with water guns made to look like the real thing stuck to the counter with metal poles and targets several feet in front of them. Above the targets were rows upon rows of mask. Some of them were cheap store-bought things most likely left over from the Kiwk-E-Mart's Halloween season, others looked like they were crudely fashioned out of plastic in another country. One of the mask, however, caught Lisa's eye. A fox mask with a beautiful intricate pattern of red lines adorning its face. It practically shone with its sleekness against the grittiness of the other mask and of the festival in general. Lisa was sure she had seen that mask somewhere before and after racking her brain for a moment, realized it was the same mask that the lead singer of an obscure J-Pop group named Rainy Kitsune wore. Lisa had gotten into this band and others like it in what she was sure, (and hoped) was just a phase in her life. No one else knew she listened to those bands and she hoped to keep it that way. Regardless, she found herself staring at the mask in awe, craving it, wanting it...

By then, Homer had gotten his fried Boreos and had already stuffed three of them in his mouth as he turned to his daughter. "Alright, what do you want to do next, Lisa?...Lisa?" Homer might have not been the sharpest tool in the shed his entire life but he did notice Lisa staring out in the distance and it didn't take him long at all to realize what she was staring at as he looked ahead. "Aww, do you want one of those mask over there?"

"What!?" Lisa snapped out of her trance and frantically shook her hands and head. "No! No! It's okay! I was just look-OOF!"

"Here," Homer chirped as he shoved the fried Boreos into Lisa's chest. "Hang on to those while Daddy wins you a mask." He ruffled Lisa's hair a little and made his way to the booth. Lisa opened her mouth to protest, dreading the possibility of her father going on another rampage once he inevitably failed in securing a prize for this daughter and the unbearable embarrassment she would suffer afterward. She closed it again as she thought back to all the times she had suffered such a fate and decided there was no point in delaying the inevitable. With a sigh, she walked up to her father right as he was getting his gun pumped.

"Alright, don't check inside the gun for bugs, keep both feet firmly on the ground." Homer muttered to himself as he messed with the gun. Lisa helped herself to one of the Boreos as she watched her father prepare to shoot. She didn't know it at the time, but he was particularly determined that day to make her happy. Thus, all of his focus was drawn toward the gun in his hand and the target before him. He took aim, steadied himself, and cleared his head of all thoughts not pertaining to the task at hand, with that damned cymbal-bashing monkey being the last to go. "Come on...Come on...eat water!"

Homer took his shot. The next few seconds felt like an eternity for Homer, Lisa and the man running the booth as the small jet of water made its way toward the target. The whole process felt as if it were moving in slow-motion and had this been a show or movie, it probably would have. But like all slow-motion sequences, this one eventually returned to normal as the water nailed the direct middle of the target. The lights adorning its edges blared to life as a horn went off and confetti shot out of two small cannons on either side of the booth, one of which exploded as it shot its load.

"A-A winner!" The stunned carny exclaimed. "And on the first try too!"

"Whoo-Hoo!" Homer shouted. "I won! I won! I wo-"

He stopped himself as he remember the entire reason he participated in the game in the first place and looked down at Lisa, her face fixed in delighted shock that her father could be so competent. "Dad," She whispered through her chocolate covered mouth. "You did it!"

"I sure did," Homer let go of the gun back and scooped Lisa up in his arms. "I sure did."

"Yeah, yeah." You sure did." The carny said. "Alright, you can have any prize you want from this booth so what will ya take?"

"What about it honey?" Homer asked sweetly. "I know you wanted one of those mask right?"

"Well..." Lisa tented her fingers with a sideways glance, embarrassed to admit she wanted the Rainy Kitsune mask. It didn't take long for her to rationalize that she could just hide it from Bart and others certain to make fun of her once she got home as he wasn't here right now. Plus, with how hard her father was trying to bond with her, it would be uncouth not to accept it. With this, she turned to the booth and pointed at the Kitsune mask. "That one."

"Heh. Kids these days. Always on the Japanese stuff." The carny scoffed as he went to take the mask. Lisa blushed a little with an annoyed groan at the man's unwelcome comment but Homer paid it no mind. He happily accept the mask as it was handed to him and placed it haphazardly over Lisa's face. "There you go! Is my little girl having a good time now?"

Lisa took a moment to fix the mask properly over her face before answering her father. She expected it to hurt a little, to be tight as most cheap mask were but...it wasn't. In fact, it fit like a glove, adding no painful pressure to the side of her face. Her vision from beneath the mask remained perfect as well, thus she was able to fully take in her father's loving smile and hopeful eyes. It was like a second face tailor made just for her and in the back of her mind, she already decided what it's purpose would be. She'd been needing a mask for such excursions for a while now and now she had it. Smiling brightly beneath her mask, Lisa spoke, her voice hardly muffled by the Kitsune face.

"Thank you, Dad!"

Lisa Simpson: Animal Avenger

Chapter 22: Pacific Grim (The Preshow)

(Well here it is folks. The first chapter of the second season! For obvious reasons, I can't just tell you what's down the road but I can say that you'll see quite a few gruesome kills as well as a few returning characters. A few of the plotlines I started in the previous season will also be completed here as well.

Before we begin, however, I do have both good and not so good news to share. We'll start with the bad which is that in the near future, I may just have to leave this site. As I'm sure you've noticed, the email situation is fucked yet AGAIN! and I'm not getting the notifications I need to get. The only good thing about is that this time, FF isn't hounding me with that whole (it'S YOur EMail's fauLT foR NOt acceptING US!) bullshit which mean that maybe, just maybe, they're finally realizing it's actually THEIR fault and are trying to fix it. That being said, this is the third fucking time this has happened and I'm getting sick of it. I promise to give you guys fair warning in advance if I decide to leave but just know that unless FF stops fucking up like this, it's a real possibility down the line.

Now for the good news, or rather, I suppose, a good recommendation. To date, The Yellow Ape and The Black Bee has been my most successful story and the only one so far to make it on TV Tropes. I have no plans for a sequel at the moment but I bring this up because my good friend SunnyHorizontheFox is cooking up this pretty cool fic in which the Simpsons become Arrancar after being killed in the events of the Simpsons Movie. So far, she only has the two chapters but she has drawn out what her vision of the Arrancar Simpsons look like and they're pretty awesome. The point is, if you liked my silly little story, I'd recommend hers. You should be able to find it pretty easy in the Bleach/Simpsons Crossover section where my story is. Let her know Chibi sent ya!

Okay, I've talked for far too long now so I think it's time we get this party started...

---

Graduations are a time of mixed emotions for the people who attended them, regardless of their role in the ceremony. For the students graduating, it is both a threshold into adulthood and all the freedom it entails but also a entrance into its more mundane trappings like work and paying taxes. For the staff, it marks the fruits of their labor, giving them the chance to see the young minds they helped to nurture declare their plans for the world with vigor and confidence. It also marks the last time they will see these bright young faces and thus, have no real way of knowing if their declarations would come true or not down the road. And for the parents of these new adults, it marked the end of an era. The lives they created through their love and nurturing were now strong enough to take care of themselves, to carve out their own destinies which also meant they no longer had any need of their parent's guidance and their nest was empty. Triumph and sorrow. Joy and melancholy. Happiness and grief. These two emotions dominated in complete equality during a typical graduation.

During the graduation of Springfield High's Seniors, however, it was sorrow and grief that ruled supreme, rushing in like water from all faucets.

A large portion of it stemmed from the death of one Clementine Foster hanging over the heads of everyone in attendance. There wasn't a single person in the gymnasium that hadn't at least heard about how the young girl was found dead in the park the day after prom, her neck crushed. Police were quick to suspect murder until Marie Foster, Clementine's mother, revealed a note her daughter had written before leaving her home for the final time. The exact details had been left out of the public record at Marie's request but the rest of Springfield got the gist regardless, Clementine was unhappy and decided to give up. As horrible a thought as it was, most people accepted it without question and tried to move on with their lives.

Allison Taylor was not one of those people.

As she sat next to her friend Lisa, the both of them a few years shy of their own graduation, she stared at the Seniors accepting their diplomas with slight contempt. "How could they accept that!?" She thought bitterly. "How could they just accept that Clementine killed herself? Maybe she was unhappy, especially after Lisa dumped her but that was no reason to...to..." She sniffled, unable to finish such a horrid thought. "Besides, what the police say doesn't make any sense! How the hell does someone stomp their own neck to death? No, I think she was murdered and as crazy as it seems, I think I know who did it." Allison tensed up in anger, her fist clenched. "The Animal Avenger! He must have discovered Clementine's secret and killed her for it. That maniac!" She shook her head. "No, not now Allison! Focus on the ceremony! Be happy for these people! It may be the last time that they're happy." Allison exhaled and relaxed her body. "Yeah, just wait until after the ceremony and then, I coming after you, Animal Avenger!"

Despite her best efforts, Allison could not completely banish the Animal Avenger from her mind. She couldn't, wouldn't forgive the monster she was certain had destroyed her close friend. She sat and stewed in her own venomous thoughts, completely unaware that the very monster she hated was sitting right next to her.

"I got to hand it to those Seniors. It sure takes a lot of guts to walk out on stage in such stupid hats." The Beast sneered.

"Be nice well ya?" Lisa mentally scolded her inner voice. "Those young men and women are graduating! Moving on into a new chapter in their lives! This is a big moment for them!"

"Ah, graduations, birthdays, weddings, it's all the same to me." The Beast responded. "Just stepping stones toward the last and best ceremony of them all...hehe...the funeral!"

"How very goth of you," Lisa droned. "Don't forget that we'll be standing up there in a few years."

"Not that it'll change anything. Regardless of whether you're a student or a adult, it's still the same for us, ain't it partner? After all, you already learned that final lesson on Prom night, didn't you?"

Lisa fell silent and sighed as she recalled that night in vivid detail. The warmth of Clementine's skin against hers as they danced under the Moon's light. The smell of her blood as she punctured her throat with the sharp end of her heel. The look of love and gratitude that Clementine had in her eyes as life slipped away from her. Lisa could recall it all as if it were yesterday and all because of the harsh lesson the entire ordeal had taught her.

That from the moment, she had killed Isaac, she was the Animal Avenger and always would be. There was no turning back at this point, no living a normal life. Just a endless cycle of finding animal-abusing scum, tracking them down and then moving in for the kill. She was like a wild predator in that regard, having to feed this need constantly to appease the Beast and herself. Hunt. Kill. Rest. Repeat. Almost as if a switch had been flipped inside of her, Lisa's hunting prowess had increased exponentially since Clementine's death and the Beast had never fed better. Their latest victim was a man who had a nasty habit of gathering the kittens the stray cats around his property had in bags and tossing them over the bridge to drown. He was found hanging from the same bridge just the day before yesterday and the mere memory of his cries for mercy elicited laughter from the Beast.

"I'm still reeling from the way that guy struggled in the noose!" She chuckled darkly. "Y-You remember when he tried to take out a photo of his wife and kids and wound up dropping it in the river!? Hahaha! Just...Just..Please I have a wife and kids back home...kr...ploop! Bahahahaha!"

Lisa didn't respond mentally or verbally. She was still frozen by that night, still haunted by Clementine's kind smile as she was murdered. She was confident that smile would always stay with her and in a morbid, twisted way, she wanted it too. She wanted it to stay as a memento of the only person who knew her deadly secret and loved her for it.

The Beast growled in annoyance at being ignored. "Just find someone else to hunt soon, alright?"

"Sure," Lisa whispered.

"What was that?"

Lisa nearly jumped out of her seat as her sister spoke. She turned to face Maggie who was looking up at her with a quizzical expression and just the tiniest hint of annoyance in her gaze.

"I..Uh...I-I said..uh..Snore! Yeah, this graduation's such a snorefest, am I right?" Lisa chuckled nervously. One would think the awkward moments would have died down after fully accepting her role at the Animal Avenger but it seemed it was not to be.

"...That's not something you would usually say." Maggie stated in a deadpan voice, clearly not amused.

"W-What can I say? Even nerds like me can get bored of things like this." Lisa chuckled again as she scratched the back of her head, mentally pleading with her baby sister that she turn her attention back to the stage and end this moment. The Beast crackling in her head didn't help matters at all.

Maggie continued to stare at Lisa with that look of contempt, the judgmental look on her face. Lisa was practically about to break into a sweat when Marge saved the day.

"Girls, eyes front and center now!" She demanded.

"Yes Ma'am!" Both sisters replied as they focused their attention onto the stage. Nelson had just got his diploma and was holding it up in his hand.

"Whoo! That's my boy!" Nelson's mother screamed from the back of the crowd. As quite a few eyes turned to her, she pulled off her black dress like a shirt, revealing a lacy pair of black bra and panties. Nelson's name was split evenly in half on either cup of the bra while the word "IS" was on the front of her panties. After shaking her hips a few times, she turned around, "#1" resting on the butt of her panties. "Hell yeah! My son's a graduate!"

"Damn straight!" Nelson shouted back completely unashamed as jumped down from the stage.

A good chunk of the audience, Lisa included, burst into laughter at the whole spectacle. As hilarious as it was, it was nice to see Nelson make peace with his mother's habit of taking work with her. Of course, the fact that this town was so used to Ms. Muntz's actions probably had something to do with it. Through her own laughter, Lisa heard the adorable snorting of her baby sister and looked down to see her holding her sides. Lisa smiled as it had been quite a while since she had heard Maggie laugh to the point of snorting and for the briefest of moments, hoped that this would spell an end to her judgmental looks.

Maggie seemed to notice Lisa looking at her at once and ceased her laughter almost abruptly. She fixed her face back to the glare she carried before and turned away from her sister with a "hmph!"

Lisa's lips drooped and with small sigh of disappointment, she turned back to the stage. It had been this way ever since Homer and Marge broke the news to them that they were splitting up. Neither Bart or Lisa were affected too much. In a weird way, they saw this coming eventually with how much their folks fought. The fact that their father was staying in Springfield at the very least also helped to give them comfort and thus they were already used to the idea by this day's arrival.

But not Maggie. She threw a total fit upon hearing the news. Plates were broken. Remotes were thrown. And Homer suffered yet another blow to the crotch when he attempted to stop her. Even once the rage had ebbed away, it was replaced by inconsolable crying. Maggie locked herself in her room for a week, only coming out to go to school. All her meals had to be brought up to her and even when she started venturing out again, it was another week before she would talk to anyone. There was a drone beneath Maggie's words as she spoke nowadays and it was painfully clear to everyone, even Homer that their little girl was far from okay. There was still a bitter rage burning in her and most of that rage was directed at Lisa, the older sister who promised her everything would be alright.

"You liar." Maggie thought. "You dirty, dirty, liar!"

As Maggie sat firmly in her seat, her arms crossed, Marge couldn't help but utter a concerned murmur. Slowly, she turned to her husband and whispered. "I think Maggie's taking out most of her bad feelings about this on Lisa. Why do you think that is?...Homer?" It was only when Marge bothered to look at her husband that she realized he was asleep, his snoring lost beneath the booming voice of Principal Castellaneta as he announced who was next to receive a diploma.

"Homer!" Marge shouted in his ear.

"Gah! Wha!" Homer frantically moved his arms and legs as he woke up. "I'm awake! I'm awake! What's up!?"

"You were asleep at your son's graduation!" Marge whispered harshly.

"Oh come on, Marge. We both know we're only here for the Boy." He yawned and stretched his arms up. "Wake me up when he gets on stage." Homer was about to doze off again when Marge grabbed his shirt collar and shook him.

"Homer wait!"

"What!?"

"I..." She let go of his collar. "I'm worried about the girls. Maggie's still so angry and for some reason, she's taking it out on Lisa."

Homer's annoyed gaze softened as guilt spread over his insides like spilled ink on paper. "Oh honey, it can't be helped. You can't really expect the kids to just take this whole splitting up thing without a little youthful angst."

"I guess not," Marge sighed. "I just can't help but feel like this is my fault."

"Our fault, honey.' Homer rubbed her back. "Our fault."

In what was perhaps one of the cruelest examples of irony in the history of Springfield, Homer and Marge's fights seemed to have dwindled the second they decided to split up. Every time it seemed like an argument was about to break out between the couple, either Homer or Marge would back out enough to defuse the situation, ending the spat before it could begin. At times, the couple noticed this trend and briefly wondered to themselves if there was still a fighting chance for their marriage but in the end, they would decide the same thing; That this peace was only the result of their coming split and attempting to halt that would bring an end to this peace. It was almost over anyhow. Tomorrow would be the day Homer would finish packing and move to an apartment building on the other side of town. It would be a bit pricey compared to the much closer Spinster Apartments his sister-in-laws lived in but he considered that a fair trade out.

As such, today marked the final day the Simpsons would sleep under the same roof as a family. They all knew it but none of them wanted to think about it. And so, they all returned their full attention to the stage just as Principal Castellaneta was handing Milhouse Van Houten his diploma.

"You did it, Van Houten." Castellaneta said. "I'm sure your parents are proud of you."

"They sure are!" Milhouse turned to the audience and waved frantically at where his mother was seated. She along with her husband Pyro and his friend Gyro all applauded Milhouse as he did so. In the back of the gymnasium, leaning against the exit far from the crowd, Milhouse's father Kirk Van Houten also cheered although because he was so far away from the stage, Milhouse barely noticed him.

"Today is the first day of the rest of my life!" Milhouse announced as he held up his diploma. "No more laughter at my expense!" He then tried to walk off stage, only to trip over the hem of his graduation robe and fall off the stage with a thud, eliciting laughter from the entire audience. Fearing for the boy's wounded pride, Castellaneta grabbed the microphone from the podium and tapped the fuzzy end, creating feedback which quieted the audience, mostly through annoyed murmurs and whispers. Once everything was back in order, Principal Castellaneta placed the microphone back into its stand and spoke. "And now for our last graduate, one who's name I'm sure most of you are familiar with, even if you thought to yourself that it would never be spoken here.

"Here it comes!" Homer whispered loudly.

"I, Principal Danny Castellaneta, consider it the highest honor to hand this diploma to," He paused to turn to the far side of the stage, holding the diploma out in front of him. "Bartholomew Simpson!"

"Alright!" Homer shouted as he sprang up from his seat, completely ignoring the horrific cracking sound his legs made as he did so. "U.S.A! U.S.A! U.S-" A single glare from all three women of the family forced back down. "Sorry."

It was around this time that the audience realized that Bart had not come up on stage to receive his diploma. Principal Castellaneta realized this too and chuckled nervously while tugging at his collar. "Um...I said...Bartholomew Simpson!" He gestured to the far side of the stage, hoping the extra omph he added to his voice would summon Bart. No such luck and whispers rang out from the audience as everyone wondered where the crazy kid had run off to.

That's when the lights suddenly went out.

A few gasp and scream filled seconds passed before one of the lights, the lights directly over the stage to be exact, turned on. A song began to play in the background, something from the 90's with a "bad boy" attitude.

"You guys really didn't think this day would come did you?" A familiar voice spoke from the intercom. "Just goes to show you shouldn't underestimate the King of the Pranksters!"

"Oh boy," Lisa groaned as she pinched the bridge of her nose. Of course Bart would pull something like this.

"You've snored through the rest now prepare for the best!" The voice continued. "It's...Bart!"

Bart suddenly zoomed out from behind the curtain on his skateboard, his graduation gown flowing behind him like a cape with the sleeves tide around his neck and his hat pinched between the thumb and index finger of his left hand. With his right hand, he snatched the diploma from the stunned Principal's grasp and stopped as his skateboard rolled halfway off the stage. He wobbled a bit as it seemed as if he was going to fall and a good chunk of the audience gasped.

"Out of stage but not out of options!" Bart smirked as he stomped down on the front half of his skateboard which sent the whole thing spinning in the air with him on it. He ended up falling back in front of the Principal, no worse for wear, put the graduation cap on his head and bowed to the audience, who cheered wildly at the feat they had just witnessed. Not even Lisa could resist clapping if only for the sheer audacity her brother just exhibited.

"V...T-That was a very...unique acceptance of your diploma, Bart Simpson," Principal Castellaneta said weakly as he clapped, mostly just happy Bart's antics didn't result in the school being forced to close down this time.

"Hey, this school is saying good-bye to one of its most infamous underachievers in history." Bart pointed to himself. "Might as well give them a big send off."

"In that case," Castellaneta gestured to the podium at his side. "Would you care to add a farewell speech to your little finale?"

"Eh, why the hell not?" Bart strolled behind the podium while humming the theme of the song he had playing earlier, (which Hallsweeper Millie already found and shut off the radio) and fixed the microphone to his mouth. He licked his lips and shouted "Testing!" as loud as he could, disgruntling most of the audience. He chuckled as he took in their cries of pain and annoyance and began his speech.

"Ladies and germs, let's be honest here. None of us thought this day would come. The day when I, Bartholomew Jojo Simpson would actually graduate High School. I certainly didn't think so and yet here I am, with a graduation hat on my head and a diploma in my hand. If I had anyone to thanks for this, I guess it would be my sister Lisa."

Lisa couldn't help but beam at Bart's words. "Oh Bart!" She whispered sweetly.

"Having a smarty-pants sister sure comes in handy when you need to steal the answers for a test."

"Bart!" Lisa shouted as some of the audience members laughed.

Bart chuckled too. "I kid! I kid! But seriously, I never thought this day would come, the day that I, Bart Simpson, would join the world of adulthood...and uh..." Bart's throat began to feel dry as did his lips. As he stared out at the waiting audience, all thought of what he was going to say next fled his mind. He found himself thinking over what he had already said as the full realization, the full weight of those words were finally crashing down on him.

"I am an adult now," He thought. "And I have no freaking idea what I'm doing! I don't have a job lined up. I've never taken a proper driving lesson, not that I really need it but still, and I sure as hell can't get into any collage, not that I'm gonna try." His gaze shifted toward his sister in the crowd. "Lisa's already got her collage years lined up and that was before she entered High School and I'm sure Maggie's gotten something saved up, given the whole secret bookworm thing. But what do I got, just a bunch of weird childhood experiences I don't think I can put on a resume!"

"Bart?"

Oh man! This sucks! My folks are splitting up! My girlfriend got sent to Bible Camp and now my childhood is over! What the hell am I supposed to do now?"

"Bart Simpson?"

"Huh?" Principal Castellaneta's voice brought Bart back from his own mind. He worried for a split second that maybe he had blabbed some of his inner thoughts to the audience and almost sighed in relief when he realized this wasn't the case. Castellaneta tapped Bart on the shoulder, a concerned expression fixing his face. "Are you alright, son?" He asked. "You seemed to be out of it for a while."

"Oh...uh yeah! Sorry about that!" Bart knocked on his own head. "Brain fart."

"Oh...Ok?" Castellaneta replied uneasily. He never did care for that term. He let Bart go as the young man cleared his throat and continued his speech

"As I was saying, today marks the day me and all my peeps leave our High School years behind and head off for greener pastures. Some of us will be going to collage. Others will be finding odd jobs around here to work in. And some of us are going on welfare."

That last comment elicited another round of laughs as Castellaneta shook his head.

"But the important thing is, we're adults now, every single one of us and we're the ones that will be giving the orders to the next generation. Of course, we'll be a lot more cooler with our rules, especially when it comes to swearing and soda in the cafeteria."

"Fuck yeah!" Maggie shouted loud enough for her brother to hear. Bart chuckled as she was pulled back to her seat by his Mom.

"And I could go on and on and make up some sappy religious poem or something but let's face it. You only came to see your family graduate, not to listen to some rando play Braveheart so let's end this thing already and get on with our new lives!" Bart threw down the microphone and jumped off the stage as the audience cheered. He high-fived a few of the people sitting on the front row as he made his way to the bleachers where his fellow graduates were sitting, squeezing himself right between Milhouse and Nelson.

Castellaneta picked up the microphone, tapped it, winced at the constant feedback it was creating now that Bart had broken it. Despite this, he spoke into it the best he could, his words interspliced with electronic screeches. "This is it. As Principal of Springfield High School, it is my pleasure to declare the Class of-"

More screeching.

- officially educated!"

With those words, the sound of a champagne cork popping rang throughout the gymnasium. No one was certain where it came from but as soon as it sounded, the graduates jumped from their seats, grabbed their hats and tossed them in the air while cheering and hollering. School's Out by Alice Cooper began to play over the speakers, the tape placed into the radio by Hallsweeper Minnie herself. She turned toward the gym, listened to the sounds of the adults celebrating their freedom and, for just the briefest of moments, her usually curmudgeonly expression softened as a single tear fell from her good eye. "Ahh..the sounds of youth entering adulthood..." She sniffled and wiped the tear away before suddenly shaking her fist and screaming "You brats are crossing the gates of Hell! Good riddance!" She spit to her right and snorted.

---

After graduation, The Simpson family went out to celebrate. The original idea was to grab a bite at Krusty Burger but to their dismay, (Well, to everyone but Lisa's dismay anyway) the nearest one was swamped with other graduate families who apparently had the same idea.

"Lousy happy families!" Homer grumbled as he pulled out of the parking lot. After a brief discussion in the car, it was decided that the party would take place at the Frying Dutchman which had been relocated near the beach. Lisa sighed as she didn't really care for the kelp balls, the only remotely vegetarian item there, but as it was her brother's big day and she wanted to enjoy a bit of peace before her next hunt, she refrained from saying anything. Thankfully, there was hardly anyone present in the parking lot and the Simpsons entered the establishment without trouble, finding themselves a table in the middle of the room.

At first, no one talked as they were too busy scanning their menus for something to eat. This persisted until the waiter offered to get them drinks. Maggie and Lisa ordered lemonade. Bart ordered Buzz-Cola and Marge ordered a plain glass of water. Homer attempted to order a beer but a quick glare from Marge changed the order to Buzz-Cola in an instant. It was only when the waiter had come back with the family's refreshments that Marge began to speak.

"Drinks up, everyone!" She said as she held up her water and tapped the glass with a spoon. "I wanna prepose a toast to our special little guy."

"D'oh!" Homer whined. "Every time someone says that, the toast turns out to be a lie!" Homer reluctantly raised up his glass as did Lisa and Maggie. Bart, attention whore as he was, simply laid his arms behind his back and drank in the toast as if they were the Sun's rays and he was trying to tan.

"Bart, despite what anyone else had said, I always knew you would make it." Marge began. "It's like I always used to say when you were younger. You have a spark inside of you. And that's not a bad thing! It just...makes you do bad things."

Bart immediately recalled the farewell present he had left Principal Castellaneta in his precious BMW. The mental image of the balding man screaming in horror as all the balloons Bart filled his car with escaped from the inside upon his opening the door and took up to the air with the car trailing beneath made him chuckle darkly.

"Regardless, I just want you to know that everyone at this table if proud of you. Way to go, Bart!" Marge clanked her glass against her family's drinks as they all uttered a cheer.

"Thanks guys, that really means a lot to me." Bart said as he took a sip of his cola and belched.

Lisa sighed at her brothers antics. "Poor Bart. All that height and still just a kid." She shook her head and took a sip from her lemonade as Horatio McCallister, also known as the Sea Captain, the owner of this establishment, approached the family. For the most part, he looked the same as he did in Lisa's childhood with the only noticeable differences being a much longer beard and a scar over his now blind left eye. Ask the Captain about it and he'd tell you that scar was the result of an epic battle between him and a horrible three-eyed devil fish. In reality, it was the result of an attempt of juggling knives gone horribly wrong.

"Well, well well," He greeted in his gruffy sea-tried voice. "I can tell from that garment hanging from your back that you be one of the new graduates of ye Springfield High, correct?"

You know it, Man!" Bart confirmed.

"Well congratulations Laddy!" The Sea Captain patted Bart's shoulder hard enough to cause pain. "I sure hoped you enjoyed the smooth sailing of your teenage years because from now on, it'll be nothing but stormy seas and the scourge of scurvy for ye."

Bart, whose good mood was already ruined by the discomfort to his shoulder, frowned as he was made to remember his worrisome thoughts on stage. Before anyone had a chance to notice his frown, The Sea Captain bellowed in salty laughter as he slammed Bart over the back again and again.

"I jest! I jest!" He chuckled. "Just a little playful teasing from an old sea dog, it is! Welcome to adulthood, son!" One more painful pat on the shoulder and the Captain placed his hands on his side. "Now, we be running a special for families of new graduates. Anything you order is half-off!" With this, he took out a pen and notepad from his pocket. There was a tiny squid on the pen and the Captain angrily shook it off and sent it flying out the window, the following splash indicating it had fallen into the sea. "Now, what will you have?"

"I think I'll just have the Starfish Salad with tuna chunks." Marge said as she took a sip of water, only to spit it out with a gag. "Yuck! This is sea water!"

"Aye, all our water be sea water." The Captain admitted. "It comes with the territory." He turned to Bart. "What about you, young Lad?

Bart didn't respond at first as he was still mulling over his anxiety over his present adulthood. Lisa knocked him out of his trance with a simple tap on the cheek. "Huh!? Wha!?"

"Bart. The menu."

"Huh?...O-Oh yeah!" Bart scanned the menu as quickly as he could. "I'll take...the...Devil's Fingers Fry Plate!"

"Aye, excellent choice, my boy!" The Captain beamed as he jotted down Bart's order. Then he turned to Lisa. "And for you Lass?"

"I'll just take the kelp balls, thanks." Lisa answered as Bart scanned his menu again.

"Um Lis? I think you wanna take another look at the kelp balls."

"Huh? Why?" Lisa looked much more carefully at the lone section of the menu where the kelp balls were offered and gasped in horror as she read the text beneath the picture of the food item. "Balled up kelp with pieces of fish inside!?"

"Aye, our kelp ball sells were going nowhere so we had to tweak it a little." The Sea Captain explained.

"So even the kelp balls have meat now?" Lisa asked in a distressed voice.

"We could pick out the fish pieces if you like!" The Sea Captain offered with a smile.

Lisa shuddered at the thought of someone picking through her food and sighed as she put the menu down. "Just get me a basket of bread."

"Fish bread?"

"Bread Bread!"

"Well I'll have the Mega-Bass Burger with extra tartar sauce!" Maggie blurted out, her hunger pushing away all thought of patience. "Just like Dad always gets!" She turned to her father. "Right Dad?"

"Hmm..." Homer scratched his chin as he looked over the menu. "Actually, if you don't mind, I'd think I'd like to walk the plank," Homer leaned over to the Sea Captain and whispered. "If you catch my drift."

The display confused the hell out of Homer's family but apparently not the Sea Captain who simply uttered "Aye." darkly before jotting something down on his notepad and walking away.

"Um...Dad?" Bart asked. "What was that?"

"Yeah, what did you mean by walking the plank?" Maggie followed up with, only to get aggressively shushed by her father.

"Be quiet!" He demanded. "You can't just let this information out in the open. You never know who's listening." Homer's eyes shifted from side to side as made sure no one else was watching."

"What...information?" Bart asked.

"Let's just say I've come here for lunch with the guys enough times to gain access to the secret menu." Homer whispered.

"Secret menu?" Bart echoed. "Oh, so walk the plank is like a codeword!"

"Yep!" Homer nodded.

Maggie awed. "Cool! What did you order?"

"You'll find out." Homer chuckled to himself.

Lisa wasn't sure why but she had a sinking feeling in her stomach. Considering what kind of things she had seen her father put in his mouth in the past, she wasn't surprised but something else about this whole situation...revolted her somehow. Almost like instinct. She shifted her gaze to her mother who had a worried expression on her face. She could tell from that her mother felt the same.

After a few minutes of awkward small talk, The Sea Captain returned with a wheeled tray with the family's food on top. All of the food was covered by shiny silver covers which clinked against the plates beneath as they were placed before the family. One by one, the Sea Captain grabbed the little knobs on top of the covers and pulled them away, allowing the steam from the food to escape as the meals were revealed to their diners. First was Marge's plate, which consisted of a fresh crisp salad comprised of lettuce, tomato, and pieces of starfish and tuna. Two packets of cheese, a packet of crotons, and a packet of crackers lay to the right of the dish.

"Ohhhhh!" Marge murmured.

Next, The Sea Captain removed Maggie's cover, revealing a giant piece of fish sandwiched between two fluffy buns. The sandwich was literally dripping with tartar sauce that made a trail to the very edge of the plate and dripped down onto the table. Maggie practically drooled as the burger encompassed her vision. No sooner had the Sea Captain picked up the cover that she grabbed the burger and bit a huge chunk from it, splattering a lot of the flowing sauce all over the table.

A few drops got on Lisa, one nailing her right in the face. "Hey! Maggie!" Lisa growled as her younger sister willfully ignored her, making it a point to munch the burger in her mouth as loudly as she possibly could. Bart couldn't help but snicker at her youngest sisters antics, especially as his oldest sister growled in annoyance. The Sea Captain cleared his throat to get Lisa's attention as he set her plate down. He removed the cover but no steam escaped as it was just a basket of bread, bread that as Lisa grabbed and took a bite out of, she realized it was tough and stale. She uttered a low groan of annoyance as she forced herself to munch through the half-assed offering.

Bart, his worries by adulthood driven away by the delicious aroma of his food, licked his lips as the Sea Captain set his plate down. He removed the covering revealing a plate full of fries surrounding a cup full of ketchup. These "fries" were not made of potatoes but rather dismembered coral that had been deep-fried so as to superficially resemble fries "Hell yeah!" Bart chirped as he took one of the fries, dipped it in the ketchup, and chomped it in half.

"And finally sir, your meal!" The Sea Captain purred as he presented Homer's meal to him. Homer clapped his hands gently in excitement as the Sea Captain set down his plate and removed the cover, releasing more steam than any of the other dishes. Once it cleared, everyone at the table was able to get a good look at the golden liquid stewing in the ornate bowl, garnished in parsley and pieces of onion. From the right side of the bowl, a single fin stuck out like a sore thumb and while everyone else awed at the prestation, Lisa gasped in horror.

"That...That's..."

"Shark Fin Soup." Homer beamed as he brought a spoonful of the concoction into his mouth. "The number one item off the secret menu!"

"Arrg! It's true." The Sea Captain agreed. "I learned the trade secret from a fellow fishermen from the other side of town. A sushi man. I for one don't care much for fancy raw fish but I must admit, he damn well knew what he was talking about when he gambled the recipe away in a card game." He chuckled to himself. "I've had sea-savory customers ordering it ever since and business has never been better!" He leaned closer to the table and whispered. "I even catch the sharks myself."

"Whoa!" Bart awed. "Talk about badass!"

"And it smells so good!" Maggie took a big whiff of the aroma the soup gave off as she said this."

"Not to mention the presentation." Marge added. "It's the kind of meal social media was made for."

"Aye, I wouldn't be going about posting about it online, lass." The Sea Captain warned. "It be...uh...not exactly legal in this part of the country."

"Really?" Marge asked. "Why not?"

"Probably because of the absolutely barbaric way fishermen get the fins." Lisa spoke as she stared daggers at her father's meal. "They throw the sharks onto the deck, cut off the fins and then throw the shark back into the water to bleed out and drown to death at the same time!"

"Whoa, metal!" Bart commented. His awe in the procedure fled as Lisa turned her venomous gaze toward him. Sweating nervously, he gulped and went back to munching on his Devil's fingers.

"Aye, it be alright lass." The Sea Captain said. "They're just fish and sharks at that. Who's worried about a few sharks?"

"Yeah Lisa!" Homer said through a full mouth. "Haven't you ever seen Jaws? Those sharks had it coming!" He chuckled darkly as he rose another spoonful to his mouth. "Stupid sharks. Eating all the pretty naked girls of the world. Well, who's eating who now?" He laughed manically as he shoved the spoon into his mouth. In his laughter, however, he wound up stabbing the spoon into his uvula and started coughing. Bart and Maggie burst into laughter at the whole display while Lisa fell silent, her rage burning beneath her and that familiar voice in her head returning with a vengeance.

"Uh oh. I know that feeling. Your heart pounding. Your teeth grinding against each other under your lips. The scent of blood already in your nostrils. You've found our latest hunt, haven't you?"

"Yeah." Lisa thought. "And I know just how I'm going to dispatch him." She turned her gaze to the Sea Captain who was laughing right alongside her family. "I just need to figure out his routine. That should be easy enough."

"Can't wait." The Beast chuckled darkly as Lisa continued to stare at the Sea Captain. The salty old sea dog seemed to feel Lisa's gaze as he gulped, chuckled nervously and excused himself from the table. "A-Anyway, I've other tables to attend to. So please enjoy your meals and remember to keep hush-hush about the you-know-what." The Sea Captain shushed everyone before heading off, leaving the Simpson's to their meals.

"Hmmm." Marge uttered a worried murmur. "Homer, I'm not sure it's such a good idea to be eating food that technically illegal."

"Aww, relax Marge." Homer said through another mouthful. "It's not like the police are going to find anything. I'm already taking care of the evidence!" He chuckled as he patted his stomach. "Everything will be alright."

Marge murmured again. "I hope so, Homer. I really hope so."

The rest of the Simpson's lunch went quietly. Even Lisa, as she continued to imagine what the Sea Captain's screams would sound like as she gave him his just desserts, munched quietly on her stale bread and remained silent. Maggie and Bart both turned to her at some point, noting how angry she looked and chalked it up to her just being pissy about the shark fin soup Homer enjoyed. Even Marge, who was hoping to continue some family conversation, decided that simply sharing this meal was enough and took another bite of her salad.

And thus, the last public meal the Simpsons enjoyed as a whole family was enjoyed in silence.

---

"Okay, now you really gotta watch your step, son." Homer warned. "There's a lot of expensive Duff collectable glasses in this box and I don't want you to break them."

"Got it, Dad." Bart nodded as he took a step backwards onto the stairs behind him. The metal creaked as he stepped on it, startling Homer.

"Huh!?" Homer looked around. "What are you doing!? I said be careful, boy!"

"Relax, Homer Slice!" Bart assured his father. "Everything's under control." Bart took a few more steps backward as he held the box with both hands. Homer followed him up the stairs with his own trembling hands glued to the sides of the box. He grew more and more unnerved as the glasses inside continued to clink, just waiting for that moment when the clinking would turn to shattering. The creaking of the rusty metal stairs beneath his girth didn't help matters at all. About halfway up the stairs, Homer shrieked.

"Dad!? What's wrong?" Bart asked.

"The glasses!" Homer cried. "I'm sure I heard a crack! I'm sure of it! I told you to be careful boy!"

"Homer, I may not be the gentlest kitten petter in the world but dammit, I know how to be careful!" Bart defended. "I promise you, the glasses are fine. Now let's just get them up the stupid stairs and into your stupid room so they can sit there and collect stupid dust like they were doing in the stupid attic!"

"Well, when you put it that way," Homer tapped his chin a little. "Alright, let's do it!" Homer gripped the box as tightly as he could, sent out a mental prayer and once again followed Bart up the steps...

...only for his right knee to give out with a loud crack.

"Yowwwww!" He cried as he went to grab it, dropping his end of the box in the process. The sound of glass shattering from inside the box was deafening and once it was over, Homer noticed the shards of glass sticking out from the bottom of the box. "D'oh!"

Homer and Bart were in front of the Stag Horn Apartment Building, the same lackluster building that Milhouse's father, Kirk, lived in. Father and son had been here since the morning, working together to move all of Homer's personal belongings up to his room at the edge of the stairs leading up to the third story. Everything that Homer had accumulated over the years, including the stuff he had "borrowed" from Ned Flanders, had been shoved into cardboard boxes and sat in his room, waiting to been released. The only thing of value Homer didn't take with him was the living room TV. Marge had offered to let him have it but Homer insisted she and the kids keep it along with the ass-dent he had made in the couch. Just silly little things to remember him by.

The box of collectable Duff glasses was the last thing to be taken out of the car although it did not survive the trip. Regardless, Bart and Homer went ahead and carried to box of shattered glass into his room. Once they set the box down, Bart sat on the bed with a sigh as Homer tore the cover open and dug through the glass. "Come on, Ow! I know you're in there. GA-AH-OW! There's gotta be one left...oh son of a bitch this hurts!"

"Um...Dad? Bart asked with uncertainty in his voice, wanting to help but not wanting to cut his fingers on glass.

"Ah hah!" Homer declared as he pulled a single glass from the box, the only survivor of the collection. It depicted Duffman in the tub playing with a rubber ducky. "At least I have you!" Homer kissed the glass and placed it on the nightstand next to his bed. As soon as he placed the glass down, however, it shattered into several tiny pieces. "Dammit!" Homer shouted as he fell on the bed, nearly sending Bart flying off. For the next few seconds, both men stayed quiet, sitting on the bed, unsure of what to do now that the big move was done. Bart went as so far as to tap his fingers along his knees and then wiped his hands along them. Part of him wanted to talk to his father about his anxiety concerning adulthood but considering his father had just moved the last of his crap out of the home he had known for the pas 20 something years, it just didn't feel right. Homer noticed Bart's looking at him funny and grew confused. "Oh alright, Bart?"

"Huh!?" Bart sputtered. "O-Oh yeah man! Peachy!"

"Are you sure," Homer said. "You have that look Marge gets when she wants to talk about something."

"U-Uh no! No! I'm completely fine." Bart chuckled. "Besides, we're guys! Isn't talking about our feelings a girl thing?"

Homer laughed as well. "Yeah." His returned to its sad and serious expression almost instantly. "But you know, talking about our feelings could be manly too. Especially if it's between father and son." Homer turned to Bart. "I may not live at the house anymore but I'm still your father so if you ever need to talk about weird guy feelings, please don't afraid to talk to me about them."

'O-Oh okay, Homer." Bart laughed nervously. "I..I get the picture." He got up from the bed. "But I'm fine! Really! You don't need to worry about me. There's absolutely nothing wrong with the B-Man okay," Bart backed toward the door, pointing at it with his thumb. "Listen, I gotta bounce but I'll see you later, ok?"

"Ok." Homer answered grumbly.

"Cool! See you later!" Bart repeated. "Shit, I already said that."

"Bart, are you sure you're ok?" Homer asked.

"I'm fine, Homer! Ain't nothing wrong with the B-Man, okay?" He grabbed the door knob and pulled it open. "Later, Home Slice!" And with that, Bart stepped out the door and closed it behind him.

Homer stared at the door for a few moments, part of him certain that Bart would come back soon. He sighed as he turned around and pondered how to begin his new life as a single man. His gaze wandered over the various boxes he had set aside and he briefly entertained the idea of unpacking them when Bart suddenly burst out of the door.

"Dad, I'm scared of being an adult!" He blurted out.

"Gah!" Homer held his heart over his chest. "Dammit Bart!" He scolded. "Don't give your old man a heart attack like that! Doctor says I'm already on strike three!"

"I don't know what to do, Dad." Bart confessed as he walked up to Homer and sat down on the bed again. "When I gave my speech on that stage yesterday, I finally realized just how unprepared for this whole-growing-up thing I am. I spent my entire life dedicated to pranking and buffoonery and now I have no idea what to do!" Bart sighed as he threw himself on the bed. "This bites."

"Oh son," Homer took a moment to try and pop his hips back into place, shouting with pain as they finally slipped beneath him and fell down alongside Bart. "No one is ever really ready to grow up. That's what makes it growing up. I mean, look at me! I used to have hair, was moderately thin and had no kids weighing me down. But now I'm bald, fa,t and have three headaches I have to-

Homer stopped when he realized what he was saying and chuckled sheepishly at an unimpressed Bart with his eyes narrowed and his arms crossing his chest. "Heh heh. T-The point is growing up is supposed to suck. That's what life's all about."

"Oh but then why does anyone even bother!?" Bart whined. "Why don't we just go the Children of the Corn route and get sacrificed to demons when we turn 18 to make the corn grow?"

"Mmmm...demonic corn..." Homer licked his lips at the thought before shaking his head and returning to the conversation. "Now son, growing up has its perks too. Now that you're out of school you can get your driving license, gun license, gun license license, all that crap."

"Meh." Bart sighed.

"Not to mention the ladies," Homer continued. "There's a whole ocean of fish out there boy and they're ripe and ready for you to reel them in!"

His father's words made Bart think of Jessica which depressed him even further. Homer noticed this and his face drooped.

"Uhh...what about beer?" He suggested uncertainly. "I mean, you still have to wait three more years for some stupid reason but when you take that first sip, oh boy. You never look back."

"Dad," Bart stated. "I drank beer before. We all have. Remember my 14th birthday?"

"Oh...a little...I was pretty drunk at the time." Homer confessed.

Bart sighed again as he placed his hand on his father's shoulder. "Dad, I know you're only trying to help but this isn't the kind of help I need. I know growing up sucks and I know I don't have a choice in the matter. I'm not asking for you to sugarcoat the whole thing for me. I just want advice on where to start."

"Where to start aye?" Homer thought for a moment. "Why don't you try getting a job?"

"A job?" Bart asked.

"Yeah, that's only like, the main part of growing up. Getting some crummy run-down job, doing a half-assed job and getting paid a lousy wage is the cornerstone of the American people...fn85$8**#

(WARNING! NO POLITICAL SATIRE ALLOWED IN THIS STORY! WARNING! NO POLITICAL SATIRE ALLOWED IN THIS STORY! WARN-

%$EEEEEEE34_

...some crummy run-down job, doing a half assed-job and getting paid a lousy wage is...eh...something something. I forget. The point is, getting a job is the best way for you to ease yourself into the world of the grown ups." Homer patted Bart on the back. "Besides, without me bringing home the bacon, your mother and sisters could really use the extra dough."

"But I thought you were going to send a portion of your check to us every month?" Bart asked.

"Yeah but the power plant has this policy where they halve your paycheck if you need to send it to other people." Homer answered.

"Why can't you just lie about it then?"

"Too late for that," Homer pulled up his pant leg and revealed a device not unlike a house arrest monitor with the power plant's logo on it. "Company policy. Mr. Burns has these on every employee. He already knew about the split the moment we decided on it."

"Ouch." Bart made a mental note not to take a job that required such measures. Despite this, however, Bart was able to see some merit in what his father was saying. "A job huh? "I mean, I had a few jobs when I was a kid sure. Lisa too. But to actually hold down one?"

"It's worth a shot." Homer said. "Lisa's been doing real fine at that animal shelter."

"But that's because she's a nerd for animals!"

"And you can be a nerd for something else. There's all sorts of crappy jobs out there. One of them's bound to be at least a little interesting."

Bart scratched his chin in thought. "I guess it's the only real option now that I'm out of school. Besides, maybe if I get a job, I'll stop thinking so much about..." Bart banished all thought of a certain raven-haired Reverend's daughter from his mind. "Alright, I'll do it. I'll look for a job!"

"That's my boy," Homer patted his son's head. His hand hurt due to the spiky nature of Bart's hair but regardless, he persisted. Then he reached down under the bed and pulled out a six pack of Duff. He pulled tow of the beer cans away from the ring and handed one to Bart. "Let's drink to it."

"Dad, I already told you I...oh what the hell?" Bart grabbed the beer can offered to him and popped it open. "Cheers."

"Cheers." Homer clanked his own open can to his son's and they both drank at the same time. It didn't take long at all for Bart to start coughing and spitting it out. "Yuck! This taste like old piss!"

"Yeah...magical old piss." Homer said dreamily as he took another sip. It would seem getting used to Duff's robust flavor was just another hurdle on Bart's journey into adulthood.

---

"96...97...98...99...100!" With a prolonged breath, Lisa placed the dumbbell on the floor alongside its companion. Her right arm was throbbing as her left arm was just barely recovering the feeling in itself. Sweat peppered Lisa's body which was currently clad in a sport's bra and gym shorts, both green and black in color. Lisa grabbed the nearby hand towel and wiped the excess sweat away from her, her breathing still ragged.

"Nice work out," The Beast complimented. "A few more weeks of this and you might be able to join the Iron Maidens competition. Follow in your mother's footsteps. Heh heh."

"Please don't bring up that uncomfortable memory." Lisa whispered as she finished drying herself off. As she lifted the towel from her arm, she took a moment to study the limb closely. The muscle was beneath her skin was faint but noticeable, one might even superficially say pretty. Lisa, of course, cared not what anyone else had to say. Her muscles, her training in this gym before her work at the animal shelter only served one cause.

The Hunt.

Lisa draped the towel over her neck and left the room. She intended to pack her things from the locker room, go for her morning jog, head home for a quick shower and then off to work. Such was Lisa's usual summer routine. One might consider it a bit unusual to leave gym in your workout clothes for a jog but as everyone mostly kept to themselves around her, no one ever really paid Lisa's action much mind.

"Hey, pretty thing." a cocky voice spoke up as soon as Lisa turned the corner toward the shower.

Usually anyway.

Sighing, Lisa turned to see a well-built boy around her age approaching her. He had blonde hair that had clearly been dyed, a blue-tank top and beige shorts to show off his bulging calves. It was clear right from the get-go that this was someone from a fair-off family, a spoiled brat who believed the entire world was owed to him simply because he worked out. The shit-eating grin he wore on his face reeked of the so-called "Alpha Male" energy that Lisa had heard many a man talk about in this gym. By this point, Lisa had come to connect the term solely to entitled muscle heads who thought with things other than their brains.

And they always seemed to want to talk to her.

"You know, I've been seeing you around for the past few days but I don't think we've ever gotten the chance to talk." The boy said. "I'm Kyle."

"Lisa," The starfish-haired girl replied flatly.

"So Lisa," Kyle walked around Lisa and placed one hand on the wall, effectively blocking her path to the showers. With his other hand, his gripped his side, the stereotypical flirting jock pose. "I couldn't help but notice you always seem to leave the building in your gym outfit." His gaze lowered to her exposed stomach. "You jog or something?"

"Maybe," Lisa replied again, her patience already running low.

"Nice, I like that. Not too many girls these days take the time for self-care like that, you know."

"Gee, I wonder why." Lisa retorted.

"Anyway, if you want, I could accompany you on your jog today," Kyle smiled. "Maybe we can swap some workout tips."

Lisa fought the urge to groan as Kyle's eyes betrayed his desire to swap something else. "Sorry, but I prefer to jog alone. Besides, I have work after my run so...you know." Lisa tried to sidestep Kyle, hoping that he would take the hint and buzz off. When he proceeded to run in front of her and reaffix himself to the wall in the same pose again, she made a mental note to stop hoping for things.

"W-Well in that case, maybe we could swap numbers?" Kyle asked. "I'd love to take you out sometime."

"Thanks but no thanks." Lisa said. "I have no interest in dating at the moment. But better luck next time." Lisa tried to side-step Kyle again, only for him to back up. It was clear he was going to be more difficult than most of other lugheads that tried to get in her pants before and Lisa couldn't fight off the resulting sigh.

"Now come on." Kyle laughed. "That's total bull and we both know it." He brought his face closer to Lisa who, while not changing her annoyed expression, backed up a little. "Why else would you be making it a point to flash your shit around every day if you don't want any attention?"

Great. One of theses guys.

"Because lighter clothes make for an easier workout and the same logic applies for jogging." Lisa answered clearly. "You're the one imprinting your frankly sexist point of view about my appearance on me and to be perfectly honest, that's a huge turn-off for a woman. Now if you excuse me, I need to get my things." Lisa tried once again to sidestep but Kyle stepped in front of her. His smile was gone and from his eyes, Lisa could tell she wounded his massive ego.

"Sexist? Did you really just call me sexist?" Kyle scoffed. "Hey, I'm the one trying to be nice here. You know, I heard from some of the other fellows that you're kind of a bookworm, you know? A big nerd that nobody even talks to. I just thought I'd give you a chance out of the goodness of my heart and this is the thanks I get?" He scoffed again. "You women are all the same."

"Thank you for your generalization." Lisa said sarcastically as she tried to sidestep him yet again. "Now please get out of the way."

Kyle smirked as he blocked Lisa's path fully, both arms crossed over his chest. "Oh yeah? Make me!"

"I'm through with these childish games." Lisa growled, starting to lose her temper. "Let me through now!"

"Or what?" Kyle asked mockingly. It was clear that he was intending to use his size and strength to immediate Lisa as punishment for her presumed disrespect for him. This wasn't the first time some jock with a fragile ego tried this tough guy song-and dance number routine on Lisa and as much as she wished it so, she knew it wouldn't be the last. At any rate, it didn't matter. She needed to get on her jog now and, as far as she was concerned, she had granted this idiot far more patience than he deserved.

"What?" Kyle rose an eyebrow. "Got nothing to say all of a sudden? Well, ain't that jus-GYAH!"

Lisa moved her left foot right into his crotch with the speed of a golf swing. Not a single other part of her body moved as she made her kick nor when she brought her foot back down. She watched humorlessly as Kyle clasped his aching manhood, fell to his knees with a loud thud and then fell to his right side, all while whining and whimpering, tears streaming down his face.

Part of Lisa, the feminist in her, wanted to make a speech about this, wanted to point out the many reasons why Kyle ended up in this state of agony and what he should do in the future to avoid it. Another part of her, the rule-abiding part, wanted to find the staff at the counter and make a report, to try and keep this musclehead off the premises and away from any other women he might harass. But Lisa wasn't thinking with either her feminist mind or her goody-two shoes mind as she had already cast those parts of her away. She was the Animal Avenger and there was only one mindset to consider: That of the hunter.

"This better be the last time you attempt something this stupid," She said bluntly. "Because if there's a next time, I'll be ripping them off."

Kyle only answered in another pained whimper as Lisa nonchalantly stepped over him. As Kyle worked through the pain to stand up, walk away and seek a first-aid kit for his family jewels, Lisa peacefully gathered her belongings from the locker room and left the gym without anymore fuss.

"You know, if you had delivered that kick any harder, you could have taken away all reason for that moron to interact with any girl ever again." The Beast spoke a few minutes into the jog. "Why didn't you?"

"What? And get kicked out of the gym?" Lisa retorted. "In case you haven't been paying attention in anatomy class, having a powerful body means constant training and discipline and I would say being the Animal Avenger and hunting down all those scum require a powerful body, don't you?"

"Personally, I think you're just afraid of inheriting your father's fatness." The Beast answered without mercy. "Better hope it ain't genetic or you're fucked!"

"Fuck. You." Lisa muttered under her breath as she turned the corner. As it was early morning, hardly anyone was around the business district. There was once a time when the likes of Barney Gumble or Hans Molemen could be seen sprawled upon the corner of the streets but as the former got sober and the latter got transferred to the Retirement Castle due to his deteriorating health, all that remained nowadays was the occasional homeless bum. Lisa saw no bums as she ran along the streets, making her way toward the beachside of Springfield. It was only about two blocks from the gym and it was there would she would reach her true target.

Lisa allowed herself to relax a little as the scent of the ocean was carried to her nostrils. She turned her head as she ran, taking in the darkened water lapping against the littered beach. Despite the environmental agony her hear felt at the sight of all the trash thrown across the sand, Lisa still felt somewhat reassured that she could still smell the pure ocean even where she ran. The fact that her workplace would soon organize their annual cleanup of the beach also helped her nerves a little. Before long, however, the sweet if powerful smell of the ocean was overpowered by the sickening stench of rotting fish and spoiled clams. Lisa gagged as she slowed her pace and tuned her gaze ahead toward her destination.

The Frying Dutchman restaurant. The neon sign depicting a fisherman feeding an endless line of fish directly into a man's mouth was off, leaving the two men it brought to life in the night a mess of plastic lines and faded colors. Below them were the words ALL YOU CAN EAT, a phrase that they had since stopped advertising after the incident with her father all those years ago. Part of Lisa wish the lawsuit had wiped them off the face of the Earth. The building sat on a hill facing the beach, a slope trailing right into it from behind. As Lisa sneaked onto the parking lot and made her way to the edge of the hill. She noticed the Sea Captain's boat tied to small dock protruding from the beach below. The ship was ancient, its sides sporting a large spot of rust each. The mast creaked as the gentle wind blew through it. It seemed like the damn boat would fall apart any moment. Why the Sea Captain kept such a vessel, Lisa could only guess was sheer loyalty. A Captain was supposed to go down with his ship after all.

"There's the boat but where's the Captain?" The Beast asked.

"I don't know but the restaurant opens at 8 so he can't be far." Lisa whispered. "We've seen him every morning since Bart's graduation around his boat."

"Not to mention every evening on the way back from work." The Beast brought up.

There's no doubt about it." Lisa agreed. "He's clearly fishing for sharks so he can make that awful soup." Lisa fought the urge to growl as she remembered what she had read about shark finning. All of the horrors those poor creatures went through in their final bloody moments. She shook her head. "I just need to find out what time he's leaving for. What time he-"

And then Lisa heard the back door open.

"Shit!" Lisa ducked right to the side of the dumpster next to the opening door. The stench was beyond fowl, rivaling even the most powerful of her brother's stink-bombs or her father's episodes of flatulence but regardless, Lisa curled up right next to the plastic crypt and covered her nose and mouth with her hands. She listened closely as the door closed once again and two sets of footsteps walked along the dumpster toward the edge of the hill.

"I'm telling you man, if I have to put up with one more week of rotting fish heads, I think I'm going to go insane." A young man's voice spoke.

"Aww! Suck it up, man!" Another older boy's voice replied in annoyance. "You're the one that tried to shoplift all those bras so now you have to pay the price."

"Whatever, Ethan!" The first voice spoke as Lisa saw its owner move in front of the dumpster. He was a homely-looking teen with short black hair and a giant zit on his nose. As Lisa had never seen him before, she could only assume he had gone to a different school. "I swear man, ever since you got promoted, you've been noting but a nag!"

He lifted the dumpster's right lid up and tossed in a bag of rotten and cracked clam shells inside. In the brief moment that he watched the bag fall in, he thought he saw another bit of movement out the corner of his eye. He looked to the other side of the dumpster but saw nothing. He pondered it for a few moments and decided it was most likely a rat come to feed. Not worth his pay. He closed the lid down just as Ethan, a taller boy with shaggy brown hair, walked up to him.

"And why do you think I got promoted huh?" He shoved his finger into the black-haired boy's chest. "Because I have work ethic! Something you should learn, Luke!"

"Why? So I can be a good little lap dog for some wanna be sailor?" Luke fired back. The two boys proceeded to get into an argument, completely unaware of the teenage girl beneath the dumpster.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Lisa thought wretchedly. "Why do people always pick the most idiotic moments to have the most idiotic arguments?"

"I guess its just human nature to be idiotic." The Beast chuckled.

Lisa growled in annoyance. "Come on, just leave! Please?"

Just at it seemed the boy's argument led to an escalation, a new voice overpowered the both of them.

"What are you scallywags doing on me dime!?"

Lisa watched from under the dumpster as the Sea Captain emerged from the hill, carrying a sack dripping with water and blood. There was something sticking out from the side of the bag, its sharpened point having torn a hole. Lisa could tell right away from the light-blue color that it was a shark fin.

The Sea Captain had been hunting last night.

"C-Captain McCallister!" Both boys faced the Captain and slapped their hands against their heads in salute. "Sir!"

"Arrg! I didn't ask for no salute!" The Sea Captain barked. "I asked why ye are wasting company time on a worthless scuffle?"

"He started it!" The two boys pointed at each other. The exchanged a look of annoyance with each other and pointed at each other again. "No, he did it! No him! No-"

"Enough!" The Sea Captain barked as he grabbed the boys by the sides of their heads and smashed them together. The two lackeys groaned in pain as they wavered about like zombies, Jeremy even bumping into the dumpster. This surprised Lisa, causing her to utter a small cry. She quickly covered her mouth again, praying to Buddha that no one heard her.

No such luck, as the Sea Captain turned his one good eye right to the dumpster as soon as the sound left her lips.

"Shit!" Lisa thought. "I'm fucked!"

"Hmm..." The Sea Captain shuffled to the dumpster and scratched his chin as he examined it closely. Lisa racked her mind for a perfect excuse for why she was hiding under the Sea Captain's dumpster and winced when he popped open the lid. "What in Davy Jone's Locker?" He rummaged through the garbage for a few seconds and pulled out the very bag Jeremy had thrown in not long ago. "Who threw away this perfectly good bag of clams?"

"Uh...Luke did sir." Ethan explained. "He threw the bag in right before you showed up."

"Ethan!" Luke shouted, only to buckle under the salty gaze of the Sea Captain's stare. He laughed nervously and rubbed his arm as his skin produced sweat over his arms and face. "I...I just figured that since they had mold of them and everything..."

"Mold?" The Sea Captain tossed the bag at Luke who barely caught it, the breath almost knocked out of him as the rotten clams collided with his chest. "My boy, clams don't get mold! They get flavor spots!"

"F-Flavor spots?" Luke asked.

"Aye. The way cheese ferments and ages like a fine wine, so do clams!" The Sea Captain chuckled. "At least, that's what I tell the customers." Then he pointed to the restaurant. "Now get back in the kitchen and prepare all those clams! I want them ready by lunch hour!" He let out a hearty bout of laughter as Luke sighed and dragged the bag of clams back to the kitchen. Lisa pressed her hand tighter around her mouth and nose as she watched the young boy's feet disappear into the building.

"As for you, Ethan," The Sea Captain spoke. "Take these fins and get them prepped for soup." He tossed the bag at Ethan with the same amount of force as he did with Jeremy's clams, nearly knocking the poor lad over. "I'd imagine well get quite a few request from our secret menu today, heheh."

Ethan regained his footing, despite the shark fin poking out of the bag digging into his arm and drawing blood, and lifted the bag up to his chin. "I...I take it last night's haul was good sir?"

"Aye," The Sea Captain confirmed. "That special chum that Akira fellow gave me is like catnip to the sharks! It brings them swirling around me boat like little guppies." He chuckled as he took a smoke from his pipe. "Yes sir. Every night at 9 I leave the shoreline to fin these sharks. Like clockwork really. Just prep the ship, gather the chum and set sail! Arg!"

"Ummm...thanks for the weirdly put exposition sir." Ethan responded.

"Hey, a little random exposition is good for the heart!" The Sea Captain patted Ethan on the shoulder. It was quite painful for the boy and between his now stinging shoulder and the blood trickling down his arm, he began to understand what Luke was complaining about. "Come along boy, those land-lubbers won't take their own money." Another thunderous round of laughter escaped the Sea Captain as he led the injured Ethan inside and closed the door.

"9:00!" Lisa whispered to herself. "That's when he leaves to go finning! We finally have a time of attack."

"And from what he said, we might have a plan as well." The Beast purred. "There's only one thing left to do."

"I know, I know and believe me, I'm itching to send this asshole to the bottom of the ocean just as you are but we can't rush into this." Lisa said. "I don't want to be hasty this time. We need to take our time, plan out for variables to our plan and make sure we're 100% fully prepared for the hunt."

"Nice speech but I was going to say we need to get out from under this dumpster." The Beast answered. "I can smell the stench from here."

"Huh?" Lisa suddenly remembered where she was and groaned in disgust as she felt a drop of dumpster juice trickle onto her leg. "Ewww!"

She made sure to take an extra long shower before she went to work.

---

"Come on Man! Are you serious?" Bart asked.

"Yeah dude! We have enough skateboard instructors as it is." The zit-faced teen explained. "There just aren't that many kids into skateboarding these days, you know?"

"But we'll give you a call if something comes up," The second boy at the counter said. "Not that I would hold my breath."

"Fine!" Bart sighed in defeat as he walked out of the skating center. "That's one more dream job down the toilet." He muttered to himself as he reached into his pocket and took out a notebook with a pencil in its bindings. Bart flipped to a page containing a list of several jobs he figured he would enjoy. Only "Skateboarding" was not crossed over with a black line and with a small whine, Bart corrected that difference. "Man, this bites! I've spent all week looking for a job I'd like and I ended up with bogus!" Bart tossed the notebook and pencil into the nearby sewer grate and shoved his hands into his pockets. It didn't take him long to find a small rock which he proceeded to kick along the sidewalk as he pondered his next move.

"What the hell am I supposed to do? I don't want to be just some jobless loser living in my mom's basement and playing Earthland Realms!" Reaching the breaking point of his mild frustration, Bart kicked the rock with more force than he intended. It flew off the sidewalk and vanished from Bart's field of vision as it fell behind a wall. A moment later, he heard the sound of glass cracking and a deep manly voice shouting "Hey! Who threw that!?"

"Uh oh!" Normally in these kinds of situations, Bart would have hightailed it out of there before any eyes had so much of a chance to hold him responsible for his actions. Today, for some reason he would only later phantom as destiny, or possible wanting to pretend to be an innocent bystander to save face, Bart ran toward the voice. It didn't take him long at all to find himself in the parking lot of Krusty Burger, the same one he would frequent as a kid. Standing before the newly formed crack in the window was a well-built young man with brown hair, his hands clenched into fist against his hips. His back was to Bart and he didn't seem to notice the boy at first, his focus squarely affixed to the pebble embedded in his window. "This is just great!" Bart heard him mutter. "We just got this window replaced after the fire truck incident and now this. Oh, what a day!"

Before Bart had a chance to speak, the man seemed to finally notice someone was behind him and turned around. Bart gasped when he recognized the bulbous nose and overbite of the man standing before him.

"The Squeaky-Voiced Teen?"

"Hey!" The man spoke up in his deep voice. "That's Mr. Freedman to you, punk and in case you can't read." He pointed to the ID clipped to his shirt. It displayed his face, name and the word MANAGER on it. "I'm the owner of this dump so show some respect!"

Bart shuddered. He had recalled meeting this man plenty of times back when he was a boy. Back then, Jeremy was that one teenager who just always seemed to be everywhere. Name any kind of dead-end job in Springfield, this guy seemed to have a hand in it. Because he mostly interacted with others from behind a counter, not a lot of people bothered to get to know him. He just wasn't special enough and could only really be categorized by his cracking voice. Thus, he was granted the nickname, The Squeaky Voiced Teen. Of course, none of those words fit him now, not as he stood a lean man with a clear face and a judgmental stance. "S-Sorry sir!" Bart found himself speaking.

Jeremy sighed and stepped aside, pointing to the pebble in the window. "You see anyone who might have done this, kid?" He asked.

"Y-N-No! No sir!" Bart gulped. "M-Maybe it was a car. Y-You know how they send pebbles flying sometimes." He laughed nervously, regretting ever so much as responding to the question rather than running away. Jeremy glared at him, as if he could somehow sniff the dishonesty from his soul and Bart froze, sweat forming on his skin. After a tense moment of silent evaluation, Jeremy shook his head and turned back to the window. "Yeah, you're probably right. Freaking cars." He leaned closer to the cracked window, taking in every little fracture in the glass. "The company we ordered this window from did give us a buy one, get one free deal so I suppose replacing it won't be too much trouble." Jeremy pocked the pebble. "I suppose."

"R-Right," Bart took a step back. "So listen, why don't you replace the window and I..." He trailed off as he noticed a white sign on the window, to the top right of the pebble. It had two words on bold red and the message they conveyed was loud and clear.

HELP WANTED

"Wait, what am I thinking?" Bart pondered. "A burger joint? That's the least cool job you can have right next to working in the church! Why on earth would I..." Bart's train of thought was interrupted yet again, this time by his father's words echoing in his mind.

"Getting a job will ease you into adulthood. Besides, without me around, your mother and sisters will could really use the extra dough."

"Man, that's what growing up is, isn't it. Just going out of your way for everyone else's sake. Man, this sucks!" Bar sighed as he stepped closer to the Jeremy and asked. "Um, Sq-I mean, Mr. Freedman, I know this isn't exactly the best time but...um...I-I couldn't help but notice that sign you have up there." He pointed sheepishly to the help wanted sign. "Is that...you know...still a thing?"

"Still a thing?" Jeremy asked with a raised eyebrow, clearing running low on patience at the moment.

"Uh...What I mean is...is...is the job offer still open...c-can I have a job?" Bart asked.

Jeremy turned back to Bart, approached the boy and scratched his chin. "You have any prior job experience?"

"N-Not officially, but-

"What about any culinary skills?" Jeremy broke in. "You know how to cook?"

"Well no but my Mom-

"Last question," Jeremy interrupted again. "How well do you take orders?"

"L-Like a soldier man!" Bart saluted the Krusty Burger manager. Of course, this was a lie but as he and Jeremy hardly knew each other until this moment, he figured maybe, just maybe he could get away with it.

Jeremy stared into his eyes for what felt like hours. It was as if he were somehow reading Bart's soul, searching through his very being for any sign of weakness. Finally, with a dejected sigh, he backed away from Bart and said. "Alright, you're hired."

"R-Really?" Bart gasped.

"Why not? We only have two other guys on staff and they're complete morons."

---

"Heh heh he. Hey Weevil." The brown-haired young man with a purple bang under his employee hat snickered as he pressed two stale Krusty buns against his chest. "When you press these buns against your chest, it's like you have boobies! Heh heh heh."

"Yeah. Heh heh." His co-worker, a young man with blue hair and glasses, agreed. "Big ol burger boobies! He heh heh."

The two of them continued to laugh as the fire in the kitchen sink went unnoticed.

---

Jeremy pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "Look, just do what I say when I say it and we'll get along. Alright?"

"Sir, yes sir!" Bart shouted louder than he meant to.

"Good. You're first order of business," Jeremy pointed to the window. "Get that pebble out of my restaurant!"

"You're the boss!" Bart walked up to the crack, pinched the pebble between his thumb and index finger and pulled it out with hardly any effort. "Piece of cak-

The cracks he left behind grew until they encompassed the entire window which then proceeded to shatter. Neither Bart nor Jeremy were really hurt by the falling glass but Bart felt himself die inside anyway as Jeremy glared at him. "I'm fired, aren't I?"

To his surprise if not relief, Jeremy shook his head. "That was my bad. I should have told you to do it carefully."

"Phew!"

"But you are gonna have to clean up this mess."

"D'oh!"

---

"There!" Marge proclaimed as she wiped the sweat from her brow and placed the mop back into the bucket. "All done!"

The Matriarch of the Simpson clan surveyed the living room she had spent the last hour mopping proudly, taking in every little sparkle and shine she could see. The scent of lemon pine hung in the air and Marge took a big breath to enjoy it, only to start coughing as the cleaning agent agitated her throat. Once she had coughed most of it back out, she hummed the tune of My Favorite Things as she picked up the mop bucket and carried it back into the kitchen.

The kitchen was just as sparkly and pleasant-smelling as the living room. Santa's Little Helper was currently barking at his own reflection of the floor, hardly noticing Marge as she approached the sink, removed the mop from the bucket and then dumped said bucket out. With that action, she had officially completed the mission to clean her house that started the day after Homer left. It had taken almost a week, due to the sheer amount of hidden snack stashes Homer had forgotten about but as she watched the brown mop water vanish down the drain, she was confident she could say this house was cleaner than it had been in years.

"All done," She repeated. As she removed her yellow rubber gloves, she noticed the time on the clock. "Oh my. It's almost five! Bart and Lisa will be home soon! I better get dinner started." She reached into the other side of the sink and pulled out a giant pot roast that she had been defrosting since this morning. Bits of ice fell from its underbelly as she lifted it. "Oh my." She thought. "This roast is far too big for us to finish." Marge murmured as she remembered all of the meats in her freezer were of similar size. She did have to feed one Homer Jay Simpson two times a day after all but now that he was gone, the extra meat was nothing more than rotten garbage in the making. "Maybe I can send some of it to the neighbors." Marge rationalized as she placed the roast on the counter. Just as she was about to head to the fridge for more ingredients, she had a sudden thought, one that unnerved her to no end.

She hadn't spoken to Maggie in all day.

This wasn't intentional on her part of course. She was simply to preoccupied with her cleaning, and as there was plenty of cereal and milk in the house, she needn't make any of the kid's breakfast. Marge murmured as she realized she hadn't so much as seen a single hair of Maggie's head since this morning and, with her guilt and worry returned in full force, she fled to the stairs and up to the second story of the house. Maggie's door was open and as Marge neared it, she could hear what sounded like heavy rock music blaring from the inside. It was muffled by headphones but Marge could still recognize the blasting drums and enraged guitar riffs for what they were. Angry life-sucks-and-so-does-everything-else music. She had heard it coming from Bart and Lisa's rooms at different points in the past decade and now it seemed like it was Maggie's turn. Only unlike her siblings, Maggie wasn't going through some morbid phase and Marge knew it, as much as she wish she didn't.

Slowly, she peered her head into her youngest daughter's room. Maggie was laying on her bed, the dark music blasting against her enclosed ears. Before he was a notepad on which she was scribbling something monstrous, bobbing her head up and down to the frantic rhythm of the music. Her room was a complete mess which wasn't exactly anything new to Marge but it was ten times worst than it what it usually was. Maggie's dirty clothes lay everywhere but her empty hamper, crushed soda cans and empty chip bags littered the floor and Marge didn't even want to imagine where the hell that smell was coming from. Hesitantly, Marge knocked on the open door as loud as she could.

Maggie uttered a low growl as she paused her music, removed her headphones, and glared at her mother. "Yes?" She asked with about as much forced respect as she could muster.

Marge felt tempted to tell her to watch her tone but as she knew why Maggie was acting like this and feeling guilty, she simply stepped inside the room and said, "Maggie, dinner will be ready in a few hours."

"Okay." Maggie replied with disinterest.

Marge murmured. "I'd...I'd like for you to clean up your room, please."

"Okay." Maggie repeated in a much more agitated tone. Whatever she was drawing was clearly more important to her than picking up after herself.

Marge felt the guilt eat away at her and quickly racked her brain for a way to ease the situation. "You know! I hear the park is finally open again after that whole murder affair." Marge felt icky talking about the crime that had taken place there only a month of so ago, especially considering that the girl who lost her life was a dear friend of her eldest daughter but she forced those feelings inside of herself as she had done so many times before. "How about we go there this weekend? Just the two of us."

"Whatever." Maggie said as she got up from the bed and started picking up the trash. Marge once again felt tempted to put on her Big Mom pants and yell at Maggie for disrespecting her like this but a little voice in her head stopped her.

"No, Marge." It said. "You know why she's acting this way and you know you deserve this."

And she agreed.

"O-Okay, well, like I said, dinner will be ready soon. Love you."

Maggie only grunted in response as she continued to gather trash.

Marge sighed as she closed the door to Maggie's room and made her way down the stairs. It had been like this ever since Homer moved out and while she had managed to keep from thinking about it for long thanks to her efforts in cleaning, Marge now had nothing to distract her from the fact that her youngest daughter seemed to hate her. She told herself it wasn't true, that she was just angry and to a degree, she knew she was right but that didn't make it hurt any less. It wasn't an easy decision for Homer and Marge to split up, but with the constant fighting, it felt like the best one for their children but now she wasn't so sure.

"No, this isn't forever." Marge told herself. "Maggie just needs time to adjust. They all do. You can't expect them to just roll over into a new status quo all willy-nilly." Marge sighed as she opened the fridge and gathered the vegetables she needed. Once she turned to where she had left the roast, however, she noticed it was gone and a bloated Santa's Little Helper laying on his back in front of the sink, wagging his tail and coughing up bits of meat.

Marge took a moment to process what had just happened before sighing and throwing all of the vegetables back into the fridge. Then she went for the kitchen phone and scanned the contact list for the pizza place. "This is the life." She told herself as she dialed the number.

---

Homer was sitting alone in his room, a half-empty can of Duff in his hand. Occasionally, he'd lift it up to his mouth to take a sip from it and place it back down again. The TV was on but he wasn't watching anything in particular. He was just staring as the various commercials played on screen. One second, there was a car dealer screaming about how they were going to take his thumbs if Homer didn't take a car off his hands right this moment. (He sounded serious) and the next, it was Akira advertising the various kinds of Sushi they served at his establishment. He ended the commercial by saying that the first 10 customers that walked into his store tomorrow would be allowed access to the secret menu. This, of course, reminded Homer of the shark fin soup he enjoyed at the Frying Dutchman.

"Mmmm...secret sea food..." Homer began one of his trademark drooling sessions, only to be interrupted by a knock on his door. Homer stared at the door until the knock came again, after which, he set his beer down, got up with a groan, and walked to the door. "Who is it?" Homer asked as he peeked through the peephole, meeting the eye of one Kirk Van Houten.

"It's me, Kirk! You know, your new neighbor" Kirk's pupil seemed to jump all over the place, as if trying to study the interior of Homer's room from outside.

Homer sighed with slight annoyance. Ever since a certain incident a long time ago, no one in town really liked Kirk. He had snapped out of his mania a long time ago but the damage was done. None the less, Homer figured he might as well tolerate the guy and opened the door. No sooner that he did so that Kirk jumped inside, his beer belly flopping like a water balloon.

"Alright!" He shouted. "Party at Homer's crib! Whoo Whoo!" Kirk placed his hands against his sides as he scanned the room. The years had not been kind to him either with his beer belly and his blue hair reduced to a thin line around the back of his head. "I gotta say, Big H. You sure have a happening pad! Bet you've seen all sorts of action if you catch my drift!" Kirk winked as he finished his sentence which caused Homer to sigh. Evidently, Kirk had not overcome all of his mania after all.

"Look Kirk, what do you want?" Homer asked in a effort to get the guy out of his room quicker. "I already told you, I'm not interested in joining the Church of Sagi"

"Your loss." Kirk shrugged. "All the love and happiness you could take for only $500 a month." He shook his head. "Anyway, I came by because I wanted to invite you over to hate watch the new Cosmic Wars movie with us."

"Us?"

"Well, it's just me right now but I asked a couple of the other guys around here and the ones that didn't punch me or slam the door in my face said that they'd think about it. So what do you say, want to rank on it with us?"

"I don't know," Homer rubbed his chin. "Aren't you supposed to enjoy the movies you're watching? Why not just watch one of the good Cosmic Wars movies?"

"Uhh...with my income, I can only afford the bad movies." Kirk scratched the back of his head. "But it has director's commentary from the director, the producer and the guy that played the Ass-Worm from Neblutar XII. So what do you say?"

"Ehh...I think I'll pass." Homer replied. "I just...not up to human interaction right now, you know?"

Kirk sighed heavily. "I understand." He walked out of Homer's room. "But if you ever need a shoulder to cry on, I'm here! Just make sure it's my right shoulder because I had to sell my left for gas money." He pointed to he left shoulder which dipped into itself as he lifted his arm. That was when Homer closed the door on him. He sighed and made his way back to the chair. Slowly he grabbed his beer, took another drink and continued to mindlessly watch TV. Kirk's short visit had managed to eat up all the time the actual show was playing and thus only commercials were playing again, the one currently on screen depicting a man trimming a small tree while advertising the shears he was using. "Hairy Shears! They'll trim your bush nice and good!"

Homer attempted to take another swig of his beer, only to taste nothing but empty air. He peeked inside the can and realized glumly that it was empty. Remembering that was his last beer of the night and the store was closed until morning, Homer groaned and tossed the beer can aside.

"This is the life." He muttered as he continued to watch TV.

---

It was Saturday night and a gentle breeze was blowing toward the ocean on the Springfield shore. The Sea Captain's boat, dubbed Marina, bobbed up and down along the gentle waves created by this wind. It was a medium-sized vessel, nothing too fancy but it got the job done alright for the Sea Captain. To her starboard side hung a giant hook which the Sea Captain would use to rip into the sharks. There was also a net attached for the fish more willing to put up a fight once they landed on the platform. The Sea Captain was just about done getting ready for tonight's hull. It was about 9 after all.

"Arr, it's almost time for another shark fin hull." The Sea Captain said to himself. "The Marina, she'd be more sea-worthy than a mermaid riding a sea lion." He patted his boat. "Ready for another night of definning those devil-fish, ain't ya, Ha ha! All we need now is that bait." The Sea Captain scanned the area a bit first to make sure no one was around and jumped onto the dock. His footsteps echoed along the wood as he made his way to the restaurant for his special chum. Once he was up on the hill and far from earshot, something slowly rose out of the water near the dock.

The head of a certain starfish-haired predator, her face obscured by a kitsune mask.

"The coast is clear."

Lisa carefully approached the shore, keeping an eye on the restaurant on the hill. As she from the water onto the beach, the moonlight glistened against her blue and grey wet suit. She had only ever used it once before during an phase when she, for a reason she could ascribe was a bout of teenage idiocy, wanted to become a pro surfer. She counted herself lucky that she didn't end up throwing it away along with the broken surfboard or she would have to be carrying this hunt out in a bikini. Once she was before the dock, she took one last look at the restaurant in order to ensure the Sea Captain was still inside grabbed the backpack she had hidden beneath the dock, and rushed along the wooden path, careful to make her footsteps as light as possible. Once she was close enough, she jumped onto the boat. Marina wavered a bit from the sudden weight change and Lisa slipped and landed on her back with a "whoa!" but other than that, the entry went off without a hitch.

"And she sticks the landing!" The Beast laughed.

"Shut up." Lisa growled as she rubbed her back. Getting up, she took a look around the boat. There didn't seem to be any security cameras, which would make her job easier. The stirring wheel was tucked safely away inside a standing shelter, the roof of which carried a couple of antenna. There was a net and hook, no doubt used for catching the sharks and as Lisa looked down on the platform, she noticed a few spots of dried blood on it. Her stomach turned as she thought of all the sharks that had met their end on that platform, writhing in limbless agony before being thrown overboard. She clenched her fish and forced herself to calm down. She needed her head clear for tonight, especially as she heard the Sea Captain singing a shanty from afar.

Lisa studied the hill and sure enough, the Sea Captain was coming down, cradling a bucket of rancid chum in his hands. That much Lisa expected. What she didn't expect were the two buff sailors walking besides the Sea Captain, one missing an eye and the other with a stitch trailing down his left arm. Neither of them looked like the type to be reasoned with.

"No! No! No!" Lisa whispered. "I thought he was coming alone! Where the hell did these two come from?"

"No time to ponder. We better make ourselves scarce!"

Lisa nodded and frantically searched for a hiding place on the ship. After a few seconds, she deduced that the only reasonably safe hiding spot would be the rooftop of the standing shelter and ran to the front of it before jumping on. It was around this time that the Sea Captain and his men had made it to the docks. Their footsteps thundered through the shore as they made their way to the Marina and climbed aboard. Lisa could sense the Sea Captain walk beneath her and held on tight, knowing it was going to be a bumpy ride out to sea.

"Alright boys!" She heard the Sea Captain say. "Time's a wasting and those sharks aren't going to fin themselves! Agrrgh!"

"Arrgh!" The two sailors grunted in unison as one of them detached the boat from the dock and the Sea Captain started her up. Lisa winced as the boat suddenly roared to life and by the time she had recovered, she was already watching the shore grow smaller and smaller as the boat headed out for sea.

---

The boat stopped about 30 minutes out to sea. The land was still visible to a degree but not by much, especially with the nighttime darkness obscuring it. The Sea Captain brought his vessel to a complete stop and instructed the two sailors he brought with him to survey the sea around the boat for any sign of law enforcement. The two brothers, Ugg and Lee, only grunted in understanding and set off to do their jobs. They were men of few words and even fewer thoughts which made them model employees in the Sea Captain's eyes. He got to work himself, putting on his headphones and grabbing the bucket of chum. As the three men set to work, none of them were aware of the teenage girl laying across the roof of the shelter, watching them and waiting for the perfect moment to act on her own. That moment arrived as soon as all three men had their back to her and her first order of business was to slide off the roof into the darkness of the night.

Ugg circled the boat a few times, occasionally bumping into his brother. Literally. They would growl at each other in response but ultimately did nothing but continue on their way. At some point, Ug decided he had enough of thoughtlessly walking and decided to mindlessly stand against the railing of the boat, watching the city lights from afar. He took a cigarette from his left pocket, a lighter from his right pocket, and helped himself to a big puff on the cancer stick. He removed the cigarette from his mouth and blew out the resulting smoke into the sea air, watching as it vanished into the darkness. It was times like these that Ugg contemplated his existence and what meaning it had if any. He never talked to his brother Lee about these kinds of things because it tended to freak him out but he personally found it fascinating to ponder, especially when considering how quickly and unexpectedly death could snatch up one's soul. At any moment, he could be eaten by a leaping shark attracted by the chum or knocked overboard by his careless brother or set himself on fire with his cigarette or even have a heart attack for no goddamn reason.

Life was like that. Death was like that.

As he tried to take another puff, Ugg heard what sounded like the laughter of a young girl. He looked around and scratched his head, just about ready to decide he had only imagined it before hearing it again. "H-Hello?" He called out.

No reply. Just more of that out-of-place giggling.

Getting nervous, Ugg fixed the cigarette behind his ear and followed the sound into the darkest part of the ship. "Hello? Anyone there with a little girl voice or something?" He asked cautiously. He briefly pondered if maybe his brother was playing some sort of trick on him but last he checked, Lee couldn't make himself sound like no little girl. And it couldn't be the Sea Captain because he was at the front of the boat spilling chum. Ugg could even smell it from here. No, something else was going on here. Something screwy.

"Hello?" Ugg repeated. The laughter had stopped, leaving Ugg alone in the darkest part of the ship. The only light was the feeble glow of his cigarette and the only sound was the rustling of the ocean. Ugg remained still, his ears alert for any new sounds. As they were greeted by nothing more than waves, Ugg once again entertained the idea that maybe, just maybe, he was losing his marbles.

That's when he heard a new sound coming fast behind him. The sound of a chain swinging.

"Huh?" Ugg only had time to turn around right as the hook wedged itself into his mouth, the curved blade came out through left eye socket, the now useless eyeball impaled on the pointed steel. Ugg tried to scream but with a hunk of metal halfway into his jaw, all he could muster was a fearful gurgle. A thick strand of blood and saliva trailed down the side of his neck and into his sailor shirt, soaking into the fabric. Panicked, Ugg grabbed the hook by the chain and tried to pull it out, only realizing with sheer horror that it was hooked into his skull. Then he was suddenly lifted off of the floor, throwing him into a whole another level of agony. The cigarette he was keeping on his person fell from his ear and onto the floor below him. Drops of blood dripped from his head, falling around the cigarette but never extinguishing the lit end. The top of the hook was grinding against the bottom of his brain now and all conscious thought fled from Ugg as he was hovered over the water. The last thought he had was regarding once again how sudden and unexpectedly came for him.

Life and death. Two sides of the same coin. Two complete and utter bitches.

His blood began falling into the water, the droplets insignificant against the sheer volume of the ocean. Yet, the smell, puny as it was against the sea air, was enough to draw the attention of a mako shark. Then another. And then another. The sharks had already been drawn in by the smell of the chum which most of their brethren were already greedily helping themselves to, but they were far enough away that they were able to capture the smell of blood growing stronger in the water. They gathered beneath the corpse of Ugg, madly trashing in the water and spreading the redden droplets all around. Slowly, the hook lowered and one of the Makos drew first blood as it sank its teeth into his leg. After a few moments of struggling, it managed to rip his right foot off and fell back into the water with its prize. Another shark bit Ugg's other leg and yet another shark wrapped its jaws over his crotch. The force of two fully grown Makos tugging at the corpse resulted in the bottom half collapsing into the ocean. Ugg's upper half bounced in the air from the snapback, spreading even more of his innards over the waves like food flakes for goldfish. It swung to and fro as the hook continued to lower, submerging what remained of Ugg beneath the red water.

It was around this time that Lee had rushed over to the dark part of the boat, having heard his brother's attempt at a cry for help before he was cut off. "Ugg!" He called out in a panic. "Ugg!" He looked around frantically for his brother, panicking as he failed to spot him anywhere on the boat. "Ugg! Ugg! Ugg! Oh! Free ciggy!" Lee's panic was momentarily quelled when he spotted Ugg's discarded cigarette on the floor. He picked it up and placed it in his mouth, expecting the refreshing sensation of tobacco on his lips. When he tasted blood instead, he took the cigarette out of his mouth and wiped his lips. "Oh damnit." He cursed. "Don't tell me I got gingivitis again." He looked down and noticed the spots of blood at his feet, causing his panic to return. "Ugg?"

It was then that Lee noticed the sound of splashing from outside the boat. The sound drew him to the railing from which he witnessed at least four mako sharks trashing about in blood-red water, a single familiar human hand floating on the surface.

"Holy moly!" Lee shouted just as he heard a rope zipping upward. He turned around to see the line to the fishing net going up and barely had time to look up before the net itself was upon him. By the time he was able to break out of his shock, he was already on the ground, the opening of the net closing down on his feet. "Help!" He called out. "Captain! Help me!"

Captain McCallister, of course, couldn't hear so much as a peep from his trapped employee as what little background noise could penetrate his headphones was being drowned out by his salty voice copying the lyrics "Ocean man, take me by the hand," lead me to the land that you understand, arrrg!" He sang as he dumped another helping of chum overboard. "Ocean man, the voyage to the corner of the globe be a real trip, aye!"

"Captain!" Lee continued to cry out. "Captain! Cap-OOF!" He felt a foot stomp on his stomach, cutting out his pleas. He looked up to see a skinny figure standing over him, the shadows of the night covering most of her body. The only part Lee could see clearly was the white fox mask with red markings covering her face. Slowly, the figure turned the mask toward the cigarette Lee had dropped while the net fell on him. She picked it up and held it up to her eye holes, examining it closely. "Smoking kills, you know."

"Wh..What is this?" Lee asked. "Let me out of this net you crazy bitch!"

"Of course, it takes a long time for these things to take their toll. Years and years of abuse are required for the effects to become noticeable. Which, to me at least, make them that much more dangerous and the companies that market them to the populace that much more disgusting." She placed the cigarette behind her ear, the burning side facing away from her mask. "Yeah, just imagine that. Cancer slowly eating your life away with each little smoke. Compared to that, what you're about to go through will be a breeze."

Lee's eyes widened. "W-Wait! What are you-"

"Bon Voyage!" The masked girl lifted her foot off of Lee and kicked him toward the railing. Lee practically wet himself as he realized what was about to happen. "Oh no! Oh no! Oh no!" No please!" Lee continued to beg for mercy as he rolled off the boat, net and all, into the feeding frenzy below. His final utterance was a cut off "No!" as he vanished beneath the crimson waves. In their gore-induced mania, the Makos wasted no time speeding toward the newest hunk of meat, their razor-sharp teeth making quick work of the net to get to the human flesh inside. As Lee opened his eyes once more, the only thing he could see was the red mist covering him, his brother's blood intermingling with his own.

First all red, then all black.

The Animal Avenger watched the frenzy from the safety of the boat, the moon emerging from the clouds above her and bathing the Marina in her milky light. The masked predator could somewhat make out her reflection in the reddened water. Expressionless. Remorseless. Merciless.

She turned away from the edge, ready to set her final trap of the night.

It was time for the catch of the day.

---

"Arrg! Look at those fishies go!" The Sea Captain laughed as he watched the sharks trash about in the water. The chum he had dumped in the water was laced with an additive that made it far more potent than regular chum. The sharks were in such a frenzy that some of them bit pieces away from the others in their maddened feeding. This display of violence mattered not to the Sea Captain who's only thought on the matter was how plump and juicy those fins would look once they were floating in a bowl of soup. He licked his fuzzy lips, not at the thought of how the soup would taste but of all the greenbacks he was sure to make from it. He uttered another hearty laugh as he headed for the standing shelter.

"Alright Ugg, Lee! It's finning time!" He called out once he was standing before the shelter. He stepped inside and started messing with the controls. It was to be a simple process. He would hook the sharks one by one onto the platform and his lackeys would take care of the finning. As he moved the lever controlling the hook, however, he noticed a distinct lack of obedient grunting. "Ugg! Lee! Get your Captain's hindquarters here right now!" He shouted in annoyance. He waited a few more moments in the dark of his shelter, listening to the sound of their footsteps coming behind him but they never did. No sound except the movement of the waves and the trashing of the sharks from all sides. "Errrgh! Get you asses out here or I'll have ye walk the plank! Do you hither what I say to you!?" The Sea Captain uttered a low growl, thinking that those buffoons must have smuggled some alcohol on board, (most likely from the Frying Dutchman) and gotten themselves stinking drunk somewhere on board. He was just about ready to reach for his sword and look for them himself when he realized something. Or rather, the lack of something.

The hook should already be hanging in front of the shelter but all that appeared before the Sea Captain was a line of rope ending in a reddened, dripping fray.

"Arrg!" The Sea Captain cried out in shock. "My hook's been shanghaied by those devil fish!" He growled in anger as he pounded on the controls with his hands. "Those two landlubbers must have dropped the hook to early and blotched the fishing! Well I'll show them!" The Sea Captain marched out of his shelter and called out as loud as he could, the sea air carrying his voice over the feeding frenzy surrounding the boat. "Alright you dingbats! Come on out and show yourselves!" He brandished his cutlass, tightening his grip around it. "I mean it! This is no longer a game, ye scurvy dogs!" He looked around for any sign of movement. "Grr! Are you going to come out and fight like men? Or do I have to-OOF!"

With one well-timed whack of his head with the bottom of her own weapon, the Animal Avenger knocked the Sea Captain out cold. "Man," She muttered as she watched him bleed from the head. "Don't you ever shut up?"

---

When the Sea Captain came too, the first thing he smelled was the scent of gasoline around his ship. The first thing he heard was voice singing something softly and sadly, in a almost mournful tone. His heart began to pound and his breathing began to quicken as the voice grew closer

"With mouths open wide...our footprint steps inside...and when there's nowhere to hide...death comes with the tide...

The voice singing was female which confused the hell out of the Sea Captain as he hadn't had any of the fairer sex on the Marina since the New Year's party. Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked up, doing his best to fight through the throbbing headache he had. He saw the first half of the platform before him which told him that he was in right in the middle. This didn't surprise him as he remembered getting ready to keelhaul his two sailors for disobeying his orders and for ruining his good shark-fishing hook. He attempted to search for the source of that strange gasoline smell, no doubt another screw-up from those two idiots, only to realize his legs were stuck together, neither of his feet feeling the floor as he tried to step forward. Looking down, his eyes grew wide as he realized his ankles had been tied together by rope. Not only that but his feet were at least two...well, feet off the ground. Looking up, he saw that his hand had been similarly bound around the wrist by rope hanging from the same pully that once held the hook.

"Oh boy." He whispered. "This does not look good."

"Death comes with the tide..."

The Sea Captain looked around frantically for whoever spoke, whoever was sure to have done this to him somehow. "Who goes there!?" He moved his hatless head side to side so fast his old neck began to ache. "As Captain of this vessel, I demand you show yourself at once!"

"Big words for someone a little tied up at the moment," The voice responded to his right. As the Sea Captain turned in that direction, he saw what appeared to be a teenage girl slowly walking backwards toward the transom of his ship. She was bent over, a scabbard of some kind resting on her back and in her hands was one of the extra-large gas cans the Sea Captain had brought along with him in case of an a emergency. He gulped as he realized she was making a trail of gas before her as she walked, each little drop perfectly linking with the foul-smelling line. Right as she reached the end of the transom, she carefully lifted the gas can up, stepped aside and calmly walked past the Sea Captain as she went to put the can back near the shelter. She made sure to place it right next to the line of gas she had created.

"W-What do you think you're doing, lass?" The Sea Captain asked as the girl returned to his side. "I-If this be some sort of ploy to commit insurance fraud, you'd be out of luck! I don't even have this vessel ensured! Yarg!" He smiled as he said this, believing that, even if he were to die tonight, he would have at least some small victory over his killer.

"Is that so?" The girl asked as she stepped before the Captain, her eyes glaring at him from beneath the mask. "That's good to hear. That means there's won't be much effort in finding it once it goes missing." His smile vanished as he realized she wasn't here for money.

"I-I don't understand!" The Sea Captain complained. "Who are you? Why have you tied me up like this!? And what have you done to those two lackeys of mine!?"

"Really? You mean you seriously, can't figure it out by yourself?" The girl crossed her arms. "To tell you the truth that kind of hurts my feelings. I mean, I've only been at this game for several years. You'd think by now people would realize who I am once they met me." She got even closer to the Sea Captain and whispered in his ear. "Especially if they've haven't been playing nice with Mother Earth's other creatures."

The Sea Captain's one good eye widened with fear as the realization of who this person was set in. "No...No! It can't be! It's impossible! Y-You should back on dry land hunting dog beaters and cat kickers, not ol sea dogs like me just trying to make a living!"

"Make a living?" The girl scoffed as she backed off. "Oh that's rich, coming from the likes of you. Speaking of rich, how much dough do you rake in per shark fin huh? $100? $500? $1000?"

"Arrg is that what this is about?" The Sea Captain asked. "Look lass, all I'm doing is making sure the people of Springfield are fed and if I happen to be getting rid of a couple of devil fish and preventing those same fine folks from becoming meals themselves, then so be it. I honestly don't see the merit of protecting these jaws with fins down there."

"Typical human hubris." The girl shook her head. "There exist something stronger and better than you so you go out and destroy it to make yourself look like the hero." She walked near the transom and picked up her backpack. "First of all, sharks are the real victims in this situation. Do you have any idea how many people actually get killed by sharks every year?"

"Uh...100! No! No! 200! 300!"

"5" The girl approached the captain again with the backpack in her hands. "Five people get eaten by sharks every year, most of them drunken idiots straying too far from the shore anyway. Where as 5 million sharks are fished out from the ocean, gutted and paraded around like a fucking trophy!" The girl got into the Sea Captain's face as she shouted those last words. "If they're lucky."

"A...And if they're not lucky?" The Sea Captain choked as his old body trembled in the fright.

"If they're not lucky...well, you should know damn well what happens then. After all, you've been subjecting them to it for who knows how long." She dug through her backpack carefully and the Sea Captain felt his already pounding heart leap from his chest. Summoning the last of his strength, he trashed about in his binds, trying desperately to slip out of the ropes. Oh if only it was raining or they were closer to the railings, maybe some water would help him slip through. But there was no rain and while the feeding frenzy surrounding the boat kicked up plenty of reddened water, none of it reached the Sea Captain who began to blubber as the girl spoke again.

"Can you even imagine what that must feel like?" The girl asked. "To be ripped from the realm you belong in to a place where you can't even breathe. Alien monsters from a completely different realm surrounding you as you thrash about helplessly, slowly suffocating to death. But that won't happen. Not just yet. Because first they need their prize. They take their sharp tools and used that cold steel to remove the limbs from your body. You're helpless to stop them. You can't even breathe. And so one by one, you're limbs are taken from you, cut by painful cut. Then, when you have nothing else of value to strip away, When you're nothing but a limbless, bleeding torso, they kick you back into your realm. Only you can't move, you can't escape. All you can do is sink to the bottom and drown in your own blood." The girl stopped rummaging through her bag, having found exactly what she was looking for. She pulled out what appeared to the Sea Captain to be a portable life raft and set it down near her feet. "That's the fate you've been condemning these poor sharks to. Can you even imagine what it would be like to actually live through that? How it must feel to die like that?"

"Lass, please!" The Sea Captain begged. "W-We can work something out!"

"Bet a salty sea dog like you never even considered such a thing, huh?" The girl chuckled darkly. "Don't worry." She finally got up from the backpack and reached over her shoulder, revealing the weapon inside her scabbard to be a 28-inch machete. The Sea Captain's heart dropped. "Pretty soon, you won't have to use your imagination."

"No! Please! Don-"

The Sea Captain gasped as the girl stabbed the tip of her machete into his throat. The cut wasn't deep but it did cut into his windpipe, cutting off his air flow. Blood flowed from the wound as she pulled the blade out and the Sea Captain tried to scream, only to make a sickening rasp instead. He trashed about violently in a last-ditch attempt to break free from his bonds but with both his arms and legs tied to each other, escape was impossible. The girl lifted the machete over her right shoulder and, with as hard a swipe as she could muster, sliced through both of the Sea Captain's legs in one blow. The Sea Captain rasped in pain and horror as he felt his legs fall away from the rest of his body. He winced at the thud they made as they landed on the platform, two trails of blood from his stumps covering them in crimson. The girl watched the legs and the bleeding stumps for a moment, ignoring the Sea Captain's gurgling cries for help as he dangled in the air. The more he moved about trying to free his wrist, the more blood he lost and the faster he lost it. The girl hummed as she transferred the machete from her left hand to her right. She raised it over her lift shoulder and took another swing, this time right through the Sea Captain's arms. He uttered a surprised croak as he fell from his own arms onto the platform, his fall broken by his severed legs whose bones he crushed with his body weight. He rolled off of his useless legs and croaked in despair.

The girl continued to watch him roll around the platform for a few moments, finding sort of a sick humor in his suffering. When she grew tired of it, she walked over to him and stomped on his ruined neck, keeping him in place. "Not so fun, is it?" She asked as she used the machete to cut his arms free from their bindings. The Sea Captain watched as she then sheathed the weapon, picked up the backpack and placed his arms inside. With the last bit of a life-hardened sea dog left in him, he growled and tried to sink his teeth into her ankle. But no matter how hard he bit into it, he couldn't penetrate her wet suit.

"Huh. I wonder how many sharks tried doing that to you in their final moments." The girl gibed. "One final act of retaliation that proves ultimately fruitless and pathetic." The girl kicked the Sea Captain in the head, knocking out a few of his teeth. As he laid their in a daze, she closed up her backpack, put it back on and grabbed her life raft which she then tucked beneath her shoulder. She got off the Sea Captain and kicked him toward the edge of his ship. He only snapped out of his stupor when his back hit the railing. He looked around and realized what was about to happen as the girl nudged his chest with her foot and left his head and shoulders dangling above the ocean. The Sea Captain began to whimper, his eyes pleading for mercy that wasn't there.

"Now you know," The girl purred. "Now you know the hell you put these sharks through for the sake of your greed. Of course, there is one little part of their ordeal that I can't make you share with them, no matter how badly I want to." She nudged more of his body over the side, forcing him to stare right into the waters he was about to plunge into. The same blood-red waters that those chum-crazy sharks were going through a feeding frenzy in. What was left of the Sea Captain's body began to tremble with terror.

"At least you won't have to drown!' The girl let go of the Sea Captain's body and watched as the limbless torso fell into the water, some of the red droplets splashing on her mask. The Sea Captain sank into the water like a stone, doing his best to keep his mouth closed so as to retain what little air he still had. It did him no good as the cut in his throat was already leaking out said air and within seconds of being submerged, he had no choice but to open his eyes and mouth in a terrified scream, his precious air escaping as bubbles to the surface. It was in that moment that he noticed a shape coming for him. He could already tell it was a shark due to the way it moved and the shape of its body. But as it grew closer, he realized it was slightly bigger than the makos surrounding the boat. Its skin was slightly darker as well and with gripping horror, the Sea Captain realized he was staring face to face with a full-grown tiger shark.

Before he could release another soundless scream, the tiger shark rushed up to him and shut its jaws around his head. He felt its teeth sink into the flesh of his already ruined neck and after a few seconds of beastly trashing, the shark managed to separate the head of Horatio McCallister from the rest of his body. During the 10 seconds of consciousness the Sea Captain endured before fading out forever, he was able to witness the shark's tongue scraping his face and feel himself slide down into its gullet. The tiger shark, of course, had no idea of the Sea Captain's final moments nor did it care. It simply tore at the rest of his body, competing with some of the makos for the huge chunk of food.

"And by the way," The girl, Lisa, said as she lifted up her mask. "Your kelp balls always tasted like shit." She spit over the railing before sliding back on her mask and making her way back to the center of the platform.

"That was excellent hunting, my friend." The Beast complimented. "You sure know how to show a girl a good time."

"Don't I always?" Lisa asked as she grabbed the Sea Captain's legs and tossed them overboard. She then made her way to the transom.

"That being said, I do have one question." The Beast asked.

"Don't worry about the sharks." Lisa said as she reached down to her ankle and pressed a button on a electronic band around her ankle. At once, the sharks nearing the end of the boat were repelled by the electrical pulses sent out by the bracelet and swam back to their brethren in the frenzy. Lisa then opened the raft and tossed it out in front of herself. She watched as it ballooned to full size and once it was finished, she took the cigarette behind her ear and flicked it behind her. The cigarette landed right on the beginning of the gas trail and produced a flame which followed the trail to the gas can next to the shelter. The resulting explosion scared off most of the sharks as Lisa started to paddle away with her hand. "A risky move, I know." She continued telling the Beast. "But this way we can destroy the evidence and make our return back to shore before sunrise."

"Excellent thinking," The Beast agreed. "But what I was actually asking about was the old fart's arms."

"Oh!" Lisa took off her backpack and reopened it to examine the arms she had pilfered.

"What are you planning on doing with them?" The Beast asked. "Surely, you've haven't graduated to...cannibal?"

"Oh hush!" Lisa scoffed. "It's nothing like that." She picked up one of the arms from the bag. "It's just I remembered that McCallister said he got the recipe from Akira's sushi shop. And, after a little consideration, I decided to get in my good deed of the week and spare him."

"Spare him?" The Beast sighed. "If you insist. But that still doesn't explain what the arms are for?"

"Oh I only said I'd spare him, I didn't say anything about leaving him alone." Lisa snickered. "And I can think of no better way to make sure the message sinks in than through these bad boys. But first, we gotta get to shore..."

---

Akira was in his sushi restaurant sweeping the floors. It had been closed for the past five hours and he had spent all that time sweeping the dust, shrimp tails, and broken chopstick he came across. No matter how much he found, there always seemed to be more. He gathered his latest batch in the dustpan and wiped the sweat from his forehead when he heard a sudden knock on his back door. He jumped a little, certainly not expecting any company at this hour. Perhaps it was an employee who had forgotten his wallet. Akira considered which one it could be as he took out his keys and went to unlock the door. He looked out the window of his door but found nothing but an empty alleyway. Confused, he slowly opened the door, gripping his keys tightly in case he needed to use them as a weapon.

"Hello?" He called out barely above a whisper. "Is someone there?"

No answer. Nobody. Akira fully opened the door and scanned the alley. There was no one else here aside from a random black cat tearing at the garbage can. Akira paid the feline no mind as he stepped forward, his foot kicking against something. Looking down, he saw what appeared to be some sort of Styrofoam food container not unlike the ones he used in his restaurant. This one appeared the have the Frying Dutchman logo on it however and the smell coming from it was...strange. Like pork but slightly overdone. Confused even further, Akira grabbed the container and stepped back inside.

"Strange, since when do people go to restaurant to leave food?" Akira asked himself as he set the container down on the counter. "Normally, I would never eat food that came from an alley but," He chuckled as he broke out a pair of chop sticks. "I think tonight I'll make an exception!" He licked his lips as he pushed the tabs in and opened the box. Once he got a look at what was inside, all thoughts of hunger vanished. He dropped his chop sticks to the ground and screamed in a high-pitched voice. He fell out of the stool he had seated himself at and continued to crawl away from the unholy terror inside that container. With his mind racing with panic, he rushed to his office to call the police, leaving behind a steaming bowl of red broth, carrots, onions, and human fingers floating on the top. Attached to the bottom of the container's lid was a sticky note, the message written on it in red marker short and to the point.

"Keep selling Shark Fin Soup and You're Next!

With love, The Animal Avenger

In place of a period at the end of the note, there was a heart.

(And thus concludes the first chapter of the second season of my story. As I mentioned a few times in my ANs in the first season, I hope to make this season a little more horror-oriented. That's not to say they're won't be any romance or character development in this season mind you, just that it'll have to take a backseat to the horror. The next chapter will begin the first proper arc of the story and introduce a few new plotlines.

Oh and before anyone ask, considering Rex and Weevil's cameo, I can assure you this story is not going to turn into a random crossover fest. That scene was just meant to be a fun cameo, much like the Hill family appearing in Bart Star. Just a fun little gag.

Anyway, I hope this story finds you well and may FF finally fix its email situation once and for all. Bye-bye!)