Chapter 18: The Old Man with the Golden Gun

Greta was late, which to Lisa wasn't good. It was making her nervous as hell.

She still didn't know why she agreed to this "arrangement". The Jazz Hole meant the world to Lisa and the idea of running it was even more tempting.

However, after dealing with two other femme fatales from Bart's past, Lisa knew what this woman probably wanted.

It was thirty minutes after the hour until Greta arrived, and she treated the whole thing as it was something normal for her.

"Oh, Lisa. There you are." Greta said as she spotted her. She sat down across from Lisa and set her bag down next to her.

"So. You want the chance to own The Jazz Hole, huh?" Greta said, smiling.

Lisa sighed, "Yes I do, and I can only guess what you want in return. Look, I know I want that place badly, but not badly enough to ruin my brother's engagement."

Greta looked surprised. "I sure hope not. Those two are so cute together, it'd be a shame."

This time, it was Lisa's turn to be surprised.

"Wait. This isn't what you wanted?"

Greta laughed, "Lisa, your brother's hot but I'm already seeing somebody and am not at that stage, in my life, to sabotage the relationships of others."

Lisa's face turned red as she looked at the floor. Looking up, she raised an eyebrow.

"So, what is it that you want, then?"

Greta pulled out a torn newspaper article, which featured Mr. Burns holding a jewel-encrusted, solid gold, gun.

This was fifteen years ago at the Hollywood Premiere of my dad's film, "A quarter past dead-er, part two". That gun, which you see the rotten man holding, is the gun the NRA was going to present to my father for his contribution to the Republican Party."

Lisa whistled after looking at the gun. "It's nice. So, where is it now?"

Greta sighed, "Oh, old man rivers still has it. I need you to get it for me."

Lisa's eyes went wide. "How? Surely, you don't expect me to go waltzing up there and ask him politely?"

Greta laughed, "Far from it. Actually…"

She bent her head low and Lisa did likewise.

"I want you to steal it, Lisa." She whispered.

Lisa felt as if her head would never lift up, due to what she was told, which felt like 100 pounds in her head.

A couple of days after Alex had moved in, Bart started noticing more and more changes around the apartment.

Bras and pantyhose's were seen all over the closet space. Dietary foods and drinks were cluttering the kitchen space and forwarded mail was lying all over the kitchen counter top.

To Bart, this was a flash back to when Gina was staying with him and he was determined to ask Alex to try to keep things organized and maybe to go looking for a dresser to keep all her belongings in.

At first, Bart was thinking about hiring a maid to keep everything in order but Alex squashed the idea, saying it wasn't necessary and that she would be able to pick up after herself.

As soon Bart was able to abandon his cane and be able to bend over without wincing in pain, he started picking up all the things around the rooms and put them into a pile on the bed.

Bart decided that he needed to go out and get a dresser while Alex was busy with her staff hiring.

However, Both Milhouse and Samantha thought this was a really bad idea.

"Are you crazy, Bart? You don't do this without telling her!" Milhouse said on one occasion.

"She's not going to like it." Samantha said, at another.

Bart wasn't dissuaded. He knew that the place needed to look better for when he was going to have his partners or clients over for lunches or dinners.

After coming back from the furniture store, Bart assembled the dresser and delicately put everything that was on the bed into the drawers.

Unfortunately, when Alex had come home, the response wasn't what Bart had hoped for.

"What are you trying to tell me? That my things cannot be with yours?" Alex asked after Bart showed her the dresser.

"No, that's not what I'm saying at all. I just thought that this would be a nice gesture. This way you'll have your things in a place where you can easily get at them." Bart said, sitting down on the bed.

Alex put a hand to her face and sighed. "So, I'm guessing you want everything here to be as exactly as it is, right?"

Bart nodded.

"Bart, when we get married, you realize that more of my things will be around. In the more years to come for us I'll be having more things and that little dresser won't be able to hold all of them."

Bart scratched the back of his neck as he was thinking.

"Well," He said, "We can always buy a bigger dresser when that time comes."

Alex groaned as she sat down next to him. "Bart, do you want me living with you?"

Bart laughed, "Of course, I do."

"Then, you should know, that people often share their spaces with people they're going to marry. You've got to make sacrifices."

Alex got up and grabbed her purse. "I'm going to Alison's for awhile. When I come back, let me know what you decided."

Maggie was surrounded by the other people in the group who were wearing t-shirts with the "Kicking The Butt" slogan on them.

After talking with Nelson, who didn't want anything to do with Mr. Hall since the teacher put a restraining order against Nelson after Nelson set his car on fire when Nelson was in his class. Maggie was left with no choice but to attend the swindler's class.

Mr. Hall arrived shortly and was dressed in an expensive leather jacket and was wearing Gucci sunglasses.

"Welcome again, class. Now, we're going to pick up where we last left off. Mrs. Jones, after using "Kicking The Butt"'s three day method, how do you feel?"

Mrs. Jones, an elderly woman, was shaking and looking in all directions.

"Please…Dear God…Does any one have a smoke I could bum off them?"

Mr. Hall laughed, "Hang in there, sweetheart. Now, Maggie has agreed to help me with today's project. Maggie?"

Maggie cursed underneath her breath.

"Maggie." Mr. Hall said, sternly.

Maggie sighed as she stood up and walked over next to Mr. Hall, in front of the group.

"Now," Mr. Hall continued, "Maggie's addiction is based on self-destructiveness. As per agreement, Maggie hasn't smoked within twelve hours today."

Everyone in the group clapped.

Maggie groaned. Late last night she was had gotten a call from Mr. Hall and he bribed her into not smoking anything or he would call up the kids' parents and tell them she wasn't taking the program seriously and that they should recommend to her boss that they should replace her.

A part of Maggie was actually proud that she was being able to breathe easier. The other part would gladly go on a killing spree if it would allow her the chance to have the filtered, dried drug plant lit and nestled between her lips.

"How do you feel, Maggie?" Mr. Hall asked.

Through clenched teeth Maggie said, harshly, "Great, Mr. Hall. NEVER better."

Mr. Hall nodded and turned back to the group.

"That's right folks. After using the patented "Kicking The Butt" chewing gum, Maggie has not wanted a cigarette all day."

The truth was, was that Maggie had been chewing on black licorice. Maggie felt that the products that this company used tasted too fruity and had only contained a couple milligrams of nicotine in each sample. Maggie chose black licorice because she like the taste and felt that having her mouth occupied with it was good enough.

Mr. Hall then brought out other products and was making his sales pitch, as Maggie was excused to sit back down.

The whole class lasted two hours and when everyone was out in the parking lot, she noticed about more than half of the people from the group brought out hidden cigarettes and lighters that they had stashed away during the meeting.

Mr. Hall had patted down Maggie when she had arrived and so Maggie feverishly went to one of the smokers and was able to score one off of them.

However, looking at the cigarette clutched between her two-trembling fingers, Maggie hesitated.

This isn't a bad thing, you know. Giving this up. It would be nice to breathe easier and to be able to perform those difficult dance moves, without struggling to breathe afterwards.

Maggie sighed as she lit the cigarette. She then made a promise to herself.

I'll cut back enough to quit.

Maggie, then, resumed her smoking of the cigarette and started talking with others from the group.

Lisa had been walking all over town, trying to decided for herself whether or not to do what Greta wanted her to do.

At first she had gone to Nelson since they were having drinks together and he responded exactly the way she thought.

He told her that she should just do it. If the "damn place" meant so much to her then she needed to carry out what was needed.

Lisa sighed. She knew that she was beyond a thief, but Mr. Burns, himself, was a thief, so it was okay, right?

Talking with Bart wasn't an option; neither was her Mom.

Lisa knew whom she needed to talk to.

Walking inside the main gates of the Springfield Power Plant, Lisa calmly walked to her Father's room and knocked on the door.

"Go away, busy." Homer replied. Lisa could also hear grunting inside as if Homer was pushing a desk.

"Not fair! You're using your other hand!" Said another voice inside.

Milhouse.

Lisa opened the door to see Homer and Milhouse arm-wrestling and Homer grabbing ahold of the side of the desk with his arm as he was attempting to win the match.

Milhouse had the upper hand, though. His biceps showed it as he made one single adjustment and brought Homer's arm down to the desktop.

"What do ya say, Mr. Simpson? Five out of five?"

"Uh, oh." Homer said as he realized Lisa was there. He then looked back at Milhouse, stood up and pointed a finger back to the door.

"Get back to work, Mr. Van Houten! I have no time for your childish games."

"But you called ME here, Mr. Simpson." Milhouse protested.

"That's okay, Dad. Actually it'd be better if I could talk to the both of you." Lisa said as she shut the door and sat down in the chair next to Milhouse.

"I have a problem.

After telling Homer and Milhouse her predicament, Lisa waited of either one of them to speak.

Homer was the first. "Uh, Lisa, honey, have you told your mother about this?"

Lisa shook her head.

Homer then grabbed out a sheet of paper and drew a crude drawing of Mr. Burns' mansion.

"Okay, here's the plan. Milhouse, you break the lock to the gate, while I walk very calmly to the door as an eccentric billionaire and engage Mr. Burns in a conversation. Then, Lisa, you and Milhouse sneak past us go to a window and get inside. Hopefully, we'll be in and out in an hour or two."

Lisa looked at her father in surprise, "Wow, Dad, that was very impressive. Where did you come up with that so fast?"

Homer laid back and smiled, "It was on Hogan's Heroes, last night."

Lisa groaned. Anything that her father watched, that he thought was brilliant, would no doubt be bad. Lisa remembered that one time where…

"Hey, I think this would work better!" Said Milhouse, interrupting Lisa's thoughts.

Lisa looked over to what Milhouse had drew.

Looking very much like a football player's handbook, Milhouse had drawn arrows, each one what pointed at spots around the mansion. There were letters that accompanied the arrows; L, M, S, and H.

Lisa recognizes the significance of most of the letters, but the "S" had her confused.

"Milhouse, who is the "S" suppose to be?"

Milhouse blushed, "Samantha."

Lisa shook her head. "No. Don't ask her. I'm already feeling bad about doing this, I don't want to feel worse by having her go along with us on this."

"Oh, c'mon, Lisa. You know she won't let me help you out, unless she's involved in some way. Besides, she wouldn't do much. She'd be our getaway driver that's all. I agree, I'd rather she were out of this, but she won't give me that choice."

Lisa sighed. She knew Samantha was stubborn but this was insane.

"Alright. But we need to come up with a signal to abort if something doesn't smell right, right?"

Both Homer and Milhouse nodded.

Bart had found that when he called Milhouse, for the first time, he wasn't answering. That and Samantha wasn't there, either.

Bart needed to talk with someone, anyone, who he could talk to help him understand more about living with another person.

With no one else around, Bart decided to talk to his mother.

Marge was excited about her son taking such a huge step and sat down and told him what she remembered when she first moved in with Homer.

"When your father and I first moved in together it was a big change for both of us."

Bart, who was drinking coffee with Marge, nodded as he listened.

"One of the biggest challenges for us was that I wanted Homer to get rid of his collection of Magnum P.I. action figures that he had all over the place. The sacrifices I had to make was that I needed to get rid of all the extra clothes that I had since High School, since your father didn't have much space. Anyways, it took three weeks before the two of us fully adjusted to living with each other."

Bart looked away, "Uh, Mom. I hate to tell you this, but Dad still has those action figures. They're in the attic."

Marge didn't say anything, at first. She then smiled and held Bart's hand.

"Bart, you and Alex are going to be fine. It'll be hard at first, but I know you can do it."

Marge then got up and picked up a garbage sack and walked out of the kitchen. Bart could hear her walking up to the attic.

Bart looked at his coffee, thinking.

She's right. It'll be hard but I can do this. Alex is the best thing that's ever happened to me. After all, if Mom can make it work with a person like Dad, then surely I can make it with Alex.

Mr. Hall was having people in the group pair up. The assignment was to spend time with the other and help each other in both reassurance and confidence with quitting. All were scheduled to call Mr. Hall and make reports about the other's progress on quitting.

Maggie was paired up with Mrs. Jones and from the start it wasn't easy. For the first couple of days, Maggie couldn't get hold of Mrs. Jones and when Maggie went to her house, she often found her in the backyard smoking.

Maggie's decision to cut down on the amount of cigarettes she smoked in a day was going surprisingly well. There were only a few times that she slipped and she had to start all over again, but she was doing better than she had in awhile.

Of course, she was never going to let Mr. Hall in on any of this. For all that man knew; she was still being the guinea pig for the lame-ass products he was selling.

Others from the class, Maggie had noticed, were either a pass or fail. Whenever the class had ended, Maggie saw the same group outside smoking, including Mrs. Jones.

Maggie felt sorry for her. Being a widow of sixty-four, Mrs. Jones didn't really have anyone else in life. No children, no animals, nothing except Laramie cigarettes. Maggie often wondered why she was attending this class at all.

"Guilt, I guess." Mrs. Jones told Maggie while the two of them were outside smoking, class having ended for the day.

"Is it self-conscience guilt? Tired of people giving you those "looks"?" Maggie asked.

Mrs. Jones shrugged, "Don't really know what "it" is. All I know is that something inside me told me that I should go to one of these here meetings." She then started hacking and Maggie held her cigarette for her while she did.

Lisa, sitting in the back of Milhouse's Sedan with Homer while Milhouse and Samantha were in the front, was dreading tonight's work.

Several scenarios played in her head on how tonight would go all of which Lisa was certain they would be caught.

Why was she doing this? Was The Jazz Hole really worth it?

I her heart Lisa knew it was. Besides, She had already done other illegal things. Corrupted an aired broadcast, broke into a museum, helped the same awful man she was going to rob tonight, create a paste used from sea creatures, and she stole all the teachers' teaching guide books. From the look of things, Lisa knew that she wasn't the purist of people.

That didn't mean she wasn't without guilt on those separate occasions.

The four of them were parked outside of Burns' mansion and the first phase of the operation was soon to be underway.

Milhouse got out of the car with a metal bolt cutter and proceeded to the gate. Cutting through five of the bars on both top and bottom, he then carefully rested them on the ground and then motioned the others to him.

Lisa took a deep breath before getting out of the car.

It's going to be fine. She told herself.

Homer, who went to great lengths as to put on one of Marge's black stalkings over his head, tip-toed over and almost fumbled over through the hole.

As soon as Lisa was over, the three then proceeded to the mansion and walked closely to the building as they made their way to the Far East corner of the house.

A pie was cooling on the widow sill; why this late at night, Lisa had no idea.

Homer peered hungrily at it but then squatted down quickly as he whispered, "Smithers!"

Lisa and Milhouse copied Homer's actions and all three remained motionless as they heard Mr. Smithers approach the windowsill.

"Well, Wayland, this time Monty will surely let you rub his back, this time, after he's tasted your lovely raspberry goose-liver pie." Mr. Smithers said as he removed the pie from the sill.

Homer was making gagging sounds and both Lisa and Milhouse and to shush him.

When Smithers had disappeared, the three then made their way up, over, and into the mansion.

Once inside the kitchen, Lisa turned to the others.

"Well, what now? Where do you think Mr. Burns would keep that gun?"

The other two thought for a moment and to Lisa's surprise it was Homer who had the answer.

"He might have it in that fancy museum of his. That's where he had the trillion-dollar bill. No, wait. It was in his wallet." Homer corrected himself.

Lisa remembered how the family was cornered by the FBI when Homer, Smithers, and Mr. Burns had ran away with the notorious currency and had fled to Cuba. When he returned it only took an hour of plea bargaining, by Mr. Burns, before he could come back home.

"Well, it's still worth looking into." Lisa said.

The others agreed. The problem was that Homer couldn't quite remember where the museum part of the house was.

"We'd better split up. Do you all have your walkie-talkies?" Lisa asked. Both Milhouse and Homer nodded as they brought out their Krusty the Clown walkie-talkies, which were Bart's that he had left at the house.

Going through the long corridors, Lisa was still ill when she saw all the things Mr. Burns had purchased over the years. It wasn't bad enough that the man used his money so carelessly, but to buy such things like actual Hindenburg and have it on a plaque like some animal trophy, was insane.

Then again, Lisa had never once been impressed by the sort of person Mr. Burns was.

Making a sharp left, around a corner, Lisa soo found herself in a huge, open area. There was a gigantic banner that said, "The Hall of Patriots."

She knew she was in the place Homer had described.

Going past the mannequins that all bared an eerie resemblance to Mr. Burns, she then found what she was looking for.

In a diorama of the death of John Wilkes Boothe, Lisa found another Mr. Burns-like figure poised with a gun that was aimed down at a staggering Boothe.

She could only guess that the figurine was Lisa found another Mr. Burns-like figure poised with a gun that was aimed down at a staggering Boothe.

She could only guess that the figurine was supposed to be an ancestor of Mr. Burns, but that wasn't what she had her mind on. The gun in the hand was THE golden gun.

Remembering what Homer had said about the trillion-dollar bill, Lisa got out her test kit to see if the gun was in fact golden.

After a few minutes, Lisa had determined it to be genuine.

Lisa grabbed her walkie-talkie.

"Dad, Milhouse, I've got it. I'll meet you two at the window, over."

"Roger." Said Milhouse.

"Please hurry. The old man-stink is making me woozy." Said Homer.

Lisa set down the walkie-talkie as she grabbed hold of the gun and tugged at it.

At first it wouldn't budge, but adding more to the effort did it finally come free. As soon as it did, an alarm started blaring.

The head of the figure made a cranking sound as it turned to where Lisa was at. The plaster eyes, then, opened up and the pupils revealed camera lenses and they whirred into focus on Lisa.

Back in his room, Mr. Burns, who was watching his TV monitors called into an intercom.

"Smithers, release the hounds."

Those words had echoed throughout the entire mansion, and Lisa knew it was time to make like the wind.

As she ran through hallway after hallway, she could hear the approaching dogs that were after her.

Lisa almost fell as she approached the kitchen. Getting back to her feet, she saw that Homer and Milhouse were waiting for her outside the window.

Lisa made a dive for it.

Catching her, Milhouse carried her as the three made there way back to the gate.

The dogs were out of the mansion and closing in on them.

Samantha had the car started and as soon as the three were out of the gate and into the car, she peeled out of there.

Alex came back the following morning feeling better. After talking with Alison, she knew that she and Bart should have a discussion about maybe them not living together until they tie the knot. After all, this might've been a little pushy on Alex's side, and it was rushing things.

Coming inside to the apartment, however, Alex was surprised.

There were pictures on the wall of both Alex and Bart at the High School reunion, some of them when the two were in high school, and some times when they were at the Simpson's house, in the early years.

Alex held a hand to her mouth as happy tears came to her face.

Being preoccupied with looking at one of the framed photos, she didn't hear Bart coming out of the bathroom.

"Welcome home." He said.

Alex walked hurriedly over to him and hugged him.

"Thank you, Bart." She said and then kissed him.

Bart grinned, "The dresser's gone and your things are now in with my things."

Alex shook her head in amazement. "What happened to you while I was away?"

Bart shrugged.

The two were soon sitting together on the couch; Alex having her head nestled on Bart's lap.

"Hey, can you turn on the set. They're going to show a promo on my store opening soon." Alex said.

Bart grabbed the remote and turned on the TV.

The news was on and on it was Kent Brockman.

"Good morning Springfield, this is Kent Brockman. Today's shocking news is that there's a manhunt in order. Wealth tycoon C. Montgomery Burns has issued a one million dollar reward for the capture of three suspects who robbed him at his home. If you know the whereabouts of these people, call the police immediately."

Both Bart and Alex stood up and starred at the screen. On it were pictures of Lisa, Milhouse, and Samantha.

"Bart…is this true?" Alex asked.

Bart didn't answer as he dialed on the phone.

"Hello, Mom? Are you watching the news?" Bart asked.

As Bart was talking to Marge, Alex continued watching.

"The suspects were seen inside the Mr. Burns' mansion along with a mysterious person yet to be identified." Said Kent. The screen then turned to images of Lisa holding a golden gun, looking up at the camera and then running. Milhouse was shown next sprinting through the hallway, only to stop and use his inhaler before turning around and shrieking as two Dobermans chased him further down the hall. Samantha was behind the wheel and as the others got in a loud "D'oh!" could be heard as the leg of the other man got accidentally shut on by the door of the car.

Bart had soon hung up the phone and he sighed heavily.

Turning off the set, Alex turned to Bart.

"What did your mom say?"

"Lisa, Milhouse, and Samantha are on the run. Dad has them staying with my grandma, who's also on the run. Ay Carumba, what a mess." Bart said, rubbing his eyes.

"Why did they do this?" Alex asked.

Bart shrugged, "I don't know. Mom says Dad's being pretty quiet about it. I guess, maybe, we'll find out tonight."

Maggie felt pretty good about herself. Since she ran out on her last pack, she decided to drink a lot of water and not buy anymore. That was two days ago. Now, she hasn't smoked since. That and her graduation from the dance academy was coming up soon.

The only down side, she could think of, was that she had to still take this damn "Kicking The Butt" class. The only way out of it would be to tell Mr. Hall that she had successfully quitted smoking by using the products. No way in hell was she ever going to do that.

Thus, the classes were still boring and it was a struggle afterwards when they were released and she had to go to her bike to get away from the temptation that these people gave.

The positive side of her still doing these classes was that her visits with Mrs. Jones, who's the only person from the group that Maggie had confided into the knowledge that she had already quit, were uplifting.

Maggie liked her the more she spent time with her. That was the hard part. Seeing the poor woman still smoke and hack her brains out was heart breaking.

Several times Maggie had tried to have her stay inside and chat with her more than go outside to smoke. Unfortunately, Mrs. Jones was stubborn and she won more than Maggie in this battle.

Then the worst came. Later the next day, Maggie had gotten a call from another person from the group that Mrs. Jones had died from heart failure.

Maggie soon found out to both regret and gladness that the cause of her fatality was due to using the products that Mr. Hall was selling.

When talked to by police, Mr. Hall fully admitted that he knew of the side effects that the products produced but was reluctant upon telling his class because the company made him sweet deals. He was then arrested.

During Rebecca Jones' memorial service, Maggie was surprised that the only other person to have ever known Mrs. Jones was Jasper Barnsworth.

"She was a lovely gal, when she was younger." He said smiling.

The day only proved to be worse as Maggie got word from Bart about Lisa.

Coming home, Maggie found Marge crying with Homer comforting her, Bart and Alex by a phone and Bart talking on it.

Maggie walked over and sat in a chair opposite her mother's and she patted her hand.

After Bart had finished his conversation on the phone both he and Alex joined up with the rest and all sat down at the table.

Every single story that had been told to Maggie when she grew older with each year, was, in turn, met with amazement. Maggie couldn't believe how strong her family was. In most families fretted with the things that had happened in her's, most would have probably broken apart or dissolve.

But not her's. The Simpson's have managed to overcome any dilemma that came at them.

Maggie was proud to be part of such a family.

Bart explained to Marge, who's eyes were red, that he would do all in his power to see that Lisa and their friends were brought home soon.

It was a hot March day as people sat along the rows of others to watch as the Springfield Academy of Dance and the Arts was having its graduation day.

Maggie watched her parents through the maze of mortarboards and smiled. Sitting next to them were Bart and Alex.

Bart gave his sister a wink and Alex nodded to her. Maggie couldn't be happier.

After all, today wasn't just her graduation. It was a turning point. Mr. Hall was in jail, the YMCA center offered her a teaching job in dance, if she wanted it, and Maggie has not smoked in over four weeks.

Maggie drew in a breath full of air and smiled at that thought.

However, looking at her family, Maggie was a saddened, a little, by knowing that Lisa couldn't attend, going into hiding with Milhouse and Samantha wouldn't allow her to be here.

She still smiled. One of the things Maggie felt proud of being a Simpson was that she had Lisa for a sister. The one person in their family who never went with whatever they were told and always spoke her mind.

"Margaret Simpson." Announced the Dean of the Academy.

Maggie, as she got up, she heard both Homer and Bart make loud "whooping" noises and were clapping fiercely. Maggie then saw her mother, who was both holding back tears and clapping, just as well.

Maggie smiled as she shook the hand of the Dean and then went and took her diploma.

In the beginning, it had been quite a struggle for her to have her mother accept her new life, and Maggie was even happier that she was here to see her on this day.

To be continued…