Shoujo Kakumei Lisa Simpson

BY : Fairy-Slayer
Category: +S through Z > Simpsons
Dragon prints: 3203
Disclaimer: I do not own "The Simpsons" or have any connection to the property whatsoever and write only to parody it and language itself; I receive absolutely no money or compensation of any kind for this awful piece of trash.

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Author's Note: This badfic is a parody, posted under a name but off by one name, but a name that sounds like another which is why it's perfectly legal to use the same name and not ever admit wrongdoing when the creator gets mad at me for it. Because if you look throughout classical literature and the works of Proust, Schlagael, Breathed, Plato, and Ezekiel, you will see that the essence of names cannot be restricted, nay censored, to claim that "I am" is the same as "I own," where non-permanent beings cannot ever claim such...

CHAPTER 17 - “Chapter Five”

 

[Some of you weak-minded types who did not have the education or the intellectual prowess like me would probably think at this point that the story began elsewhere in the basement of time, but you are wrong, as usual. This being a time-travel story will start where it should, squarely in the middle, when everything started happening. Just read it and revel in my glorious style that is so awe inspiring that the "rules" (as you call them) of language are inconsequential... you Idiotberts.]

LisA was sat on the throne-bed, gazing askanseward at her slave... no, less than a slave, but the long-haired toy thing, once having been known as Allison, and willed her to come. When the object... the wretch... the nothing did not respond, LisA did open eye glow red, punish with hatred, burning, and ice cream smiles.

"My cat! You don't know what's bad for you!" screamed the horrible Screamer of Schemers as she lashed out with her frayed dress, on a hanger, snapping the face of said less-than-slave.

The trembling, pinkish mass sobbed with red eyes, like the burning ashes in a toaster and said while choking on her own tears, "My! You cannot let me please you, as is your command that shall be upheld!" LisA seemed satisfied with this and turned her attention away.

"Breakfast, honey!" Marge called up the stairs.

LisA slapped it, across its face, leaving trickles of sweet blood and tears. As, the slave creature uttered under its breath, "Your sleepovers really suck." LisA went down the stairs and into the kitchen.


"Did you have fun last night, dear? It sounded like you two stayed up pretty late," the blue bottle brush, useless except as a carrier of the seed to create LisA, was inquiring of the messianic evil that it considered to be "her daughter".

LisA looked at her with that feeling you get for airport security personnel. "Fart! I cut her flesh and drenched my tongue in blood, to then drizzle on all over her body."

"As long as you two weren't up all night," Marge commented while placing a plate of boring, yellow, plain scrambled eggs of some creature on the table in front of her little mistress.

"My cat!" the LisA screamed. "You baby-hole that I used to create me! Why are there not butter-holding grid cakes for my breakfast!" She swooped up Maggie by her leg and shook the little sack of horrifying coos and vomit-soaked giggles. "I kill this flesh you treasure for not my breakfast of choice!"

"Now play nice with your sister!" Marge scolded. "The waffle maker is still broken."

LisA growled and put the ball of pudding, that piece of suck, back on the high chair. "Fine! The ape's breakfast I will eat of," the mistress said while taking the plate from the balding man.

"Give that back!" it complained, whining, drooling, impotent.

"Your usefulness to me is done, so I eat it instead, if only to deny you sustenance," LisA hissed as she pulled the plate, with the ugly, horrifying cheerful floral pattern, to her eyes and then pushed it against her face, feeling the scrambled eggs on her cheeks as she licked, like a lover, the sweet, sweet chicken embryo, off.

"Hey, why are you doing that? I'm your father!" Homer demanded.

LisA scoffed at the dome-headed yellow creature, "You are but a convenience, a random insignificance in the memory of my creation, without any value apart from a miniscule part of your DNA to make me exist."

"She's got you there, Homey," Marge said with a resigned sigh.

Lisa spat some food back in his face. It stung like the stings of a dozen scorpions, or perhaps even just a very industrious scorpion who liked to sting and had lots of venom to spare. LisA stormed out of the kitchen.

"D'OH!"


As the sun fell, the blue-haired slave of society returned from the wretched food hole place, for gluttonous oblivious creatures. At the same happenstance, that Homer arrived from his work at the so-called "power" plant. The little barf bag was stuffed and unconscious, so the mother beast returned it to the soft mini-prison cell before ambling like a trained rat into the kitchen. She was shocked.

The table was set, beautiful best "Oriental" dinnerware, multiple forks and other utensils, all polished and placed perfectly. LisA was there in a red-streaked apron and claw-like mitts, removing a roasting pan from the oven. The smell of incinerated carcass death, with spices and tasty vegetables, filled the tiny, horrible room. Soon, the yellow-domed pig and the bucket-headed boy creature were also drawn by the smell. LisA brought it to the table, using a step stool, and served. The disgusting yellow XYs were drooling and hungry, but they had learned enough healthy fear and did not even touch the food early, lest they be punished severely!

"Be seated, related sacks of waste and DNA," she hissed at them.

"What a surprise!" Marge cried in surprise. "The table's perfect, though you could work a bit on your 'service with a smile.'"

LisA laughed hysterically as she put the pan in the sink and then was seated, along with the repulsive creatures she was forced to share her life with. For now. She laughed maniacally while gripping a hunk of the meat and ripping it with her teeth.

"Hey, you're eating meat again!" Marge noticed. "Then again, it does smell absolutely delicious. What is it, anyway? Lamb?"

"I hope you enjoy masticating and digesting it as much as I enjoyed its demise," LisA laughed. "I had to use 'Hamburger Helper' because there was no 'Santa's Little Helper Helper' in the cabinets." She chewed slowly, grinning, staring at her horrified family.

Bart's eyes fell, but he dared not cry. "Can I go to bed early?" he asked.

"Sure," Marge answered as she put the fork back down, carefully, perfectly. "Homer, I just remembered: didn't we have dinner plans elsewhere tonight?"

Homer answered loudly, pathetically, "No Marge, but I sure don't want to eat this sucky evil dinner our daughter made." He winked, happy with himself. Loser.

Marge was unhappy with his lack-of-style response. "Okay, you can just take some for lunch tomorrow," she told the light bulb head, angry. They got up and left through the side hall, into the garage.

LisA ignored their banter and continued to rip the poor dog's flesh with her teeth.


The young queen of Right slipped into her brother's bedroom. It bothered her to have this for a sibling, but like all else, it was something that simply existed for her purposes, ultimately. LisA quietly crawled into his bed and took the chain from around her waist. Warm metal. It won't wake him; it will extend his illusion of comfort. She wrapped the chain around his neck, almost caressing him with it, and then she straddled his chest and dropped her royal rear on it, waking the sleeping co-genome.

"Bartholomew," she hissed his name. "Awaken and obey!"

The boy stirred, annoyed perhaps, and tried to breathe, but the choke was too tight. Struggling against it was futile and he was about to give up when LisA relaxed her grip and allowed him to live, if but for a moment.

"Bartholomew, my 'brother' who is supposed to 'love' me. The world is corrupt. You know it: that's why you rebel! But I offer a new order, and to keep order you shall help me as you live. It may seem 'wrong' and even 'evil' to some, but you shall make rules for others and break all for yourself, save to serve my ultimate will. I offer you glory and riches, if that it what you want, but you also shall have power! Imagine, all the treasures of the world as your playthings! You shall have Laura if you wish, and she will get you Jessica to play with, too! Nothing can be beyond your grasp." She leaned into his face, their noses touching. She snarled, "So brother, what do you say?"

Bart's mouth twisted and turned as the air escaped, slowly, "Sis, you had me on 'wrong'. Let's do it!"


Later, in the comforting darkness of night, the uterus-slave of the men did come into the mistress' room, slowly. It carried something small and flat in her hands, trembling with fear. "Lisa dear, are you awake?" it asked stupidly, as there would be no answer if not. Duh.

"What Beast?!" LisA screamed without true anger. For her plan to destroy civilization and recreate it to serve her was no secret. She was open about it, so she had often invited the disgusting cohabitators to go though her room without asking and revel in her schemes.

The repulsive woman spoke nervously, obviously scared, "Did you feed Maggie before putting her down for the night?"

"My sister sack did feast on blood of talking cats!" LisA laughed viciously.

"Mrrr, we lose more talking cats that way," Marge lamented. "Seriously, sometimes I wonder why you bother to teach them how to talk in the first place! Besides, you know I only like Maggie to have formula at night."

LisA said nothing. Marge became fearful at the uber-child's silence. She held up some green paper to appease her daughter. "At least she ate. Anyway, I should pay you for babysitting."

LisA knocked the offensive notes from her hands, screaming, "Take it away! Someday you shall pay me with your life!"

Marge was stunned for a moment, but she slowly picked the money up off the floor. "How about I just put this in your bank account tomorrow," she whispered before making the ultimate insult. The blue-headed freak actually sat on the bed! LisA's eyes burnt with cool fiery hatred.

"You know, Lisa," it tried to endear herself, "You've been acting a little, er, differently lately. At first I thought you were just spending too much time reading fan fiction, but now I'm starting to think that there's more to it."

LisA spoke in a childish, condescending tone, "Oh, yes, mother. Killing for power and world domination does that to me sometimes!"

"Anyway, even though you're still kinda young, I thought perhaps that maybe, you know, you're becoming a woman now," Marge said tentatively while raising the small object, a book. "So I got this from the library and we can look though it, together, and see how your little body has started changing. That way, instead of torturing friends, terrifying your family and disemboweling animals, we can talk about puberty and sex and stuff."

Lisa screamed in horror and shock, "Ewwww! Mom, you're grossing me out!"

 

The End

 



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