It was a bright, Saturday afternoon. The sun shined upon the whole of Springfield, but the day was still rather cool, as there was an infrequent, but still visibly present breeze. It was perfect weather for Marge to take care of the laundry. She hung up the damp clothes in one hand, as she held Maggie to her chest, her little arms round Marge's shoulders. By the looks of things, the clothes would be dry in absolutely no time at all. "Well, it'll have to be", thought Marge, as it was clear that blustery winds would be upon them soon. She hung up a damp bed sheet on the washing line, and looked behind her.
Bart played with Santa's Little Helper. The two of them ran up and down the garden as they played fetch together. Santa's Little Helper was eager to grab the tennis ball, but every time Bart tried moving onto his plastic Frisbee, the dog wouldn't co-operate.
"No boy!" exclaimed Bart, "Its like the ball, grab it like this!"
Bart threw the Frisbee, ran after it then grabbed it using his teeth. He brought it back to Santa's Little Helper, but he stared back at Bart with bewilderment. Marge chuckled.
"I've got just the thing Bart!" Marge replied. She ran inside, and returned with a bottle of Barbecue Sauce. Santa's Little Helper's eyes lit up with excitement almost immediately, as the smell of the sauce shot up his nose like a surge of lightning. Taking the Frisbee, she squirted a thin line of sauce around its rim, although she accidentally landed a big squirt on Maggie's dress. Marge groaned, she'd have to clean that later. She then put the bottle on the ground, then swung her arm round. "Fetch boy!" Marge cried as she flung the Frisbee across the garden.
As a breeze once again kicked in though, the Frisbee flew over and past the washing line. Santa's Little Helper none-the-wiser though just straight into the duvet hanging from the line, detaching it... As the dog got to his feet, the duvet flew across the garden, round the corner, and into the road. Bart watched in astonishment, before laughing a deep snorty chuckle.
"Oh no" Marge screamed as she flailed her arms. She ran after the duvet and disappeared around the corner, but in a panic, she had unknowingly thrown Maggie into the air. Bart kept laughing hard, rolling on the ground, as Maggie flew upwards into the air.
Suddenly, something in Santa's Little Helpers, little mind, clicked. The BBQ smell drifted through the air back into his nose once again. She looked up, and saw Maggie flying towards the ground, covered in sauce, smelling delicious. The dog's mouth watered, before without a second thought, he leapt high into the air, with his mouth opened as wide as it could go. As he flew in mid-air, and Maggie met his mouth, she shot down her throat, the gravity thrusting her in as he landed. The dog choked, but with a huge smug smile on his face. His mouth watered, droll dripping out of his mouth from around Maggies wiggling feet, inside of her dress. He sat down on his back legs, pointing his head upwards, Maggies head now in his stomach, he licked her dress all over, savouring every last ounce of sauce he could lay his tongue on.
Bart wiped a tear from his eye, still chuckling hysterically. But as he turned around, before Bart could realize what had happened, Maggie had gone. Instead, he saw Santa's Little Helper, sitting by his side on his behind, his face lit up with satisfaction and delight, ever so clear from his huge eyes, panting tongue and a smile that spread across his face. Bart knelt and rubbed his back, before he quickly noticed the dog's stomach. It was hugely distended, the fur spread sparsly across its huge surface. Bart rubbed the dog's belly with curiosity, the dog moaning softly, still panting. Santa's Little Helper suddenly looked like he was having a litter. "What the?" Bart said, in utter confusion now, as the dog's stomach gurgled and bubbled underneath his hand. Before suddenly, something began to move from within Santa's Little Helper. His breathing became a little erratic, and he rolled onto his back. Maggie squirmed and kicked inside of the dog.
Bart rubbed his eyes, in disbelief, as he came to a ridiculous conclusion. "Where's Maggie" asked Bart, "Where's Maggie boy?". The dog barked, with dumbfounded delight. Bart rubbed his belly again, now poking it for any clue it could be Maggie. But from inside, Maggie began to cry out loud, muffled by the dog's skin. Bart jumped back, there was no question now, the dog had swallowed Maggie. Bart looked at his dog in astonishment, as his baby sister kicked and screamed from within his huge stomach, as he lied back, with a big dumb smile on his face, looking straight into Bart, almost with pride.
Before Bart could think, he heard from the front lawn, "Where's Maggie!?". Marge had noticed.
"Oh no!" Bart thought, now pacing the garden quickly in a panic. "If mum finds out, Santa's Little Helper will be put down for sure...". As he paced, he kicked something on the ground. He looked down to find Maggie's pacifier.
Bart picked it up...
