"You called, Mr. Rooney?" Jeannie asked, coming into his office.

"Close the door," Rooney told her. He was facing the window again and did not give her the benefit of a glance.

"Look, you'll have to make this quick, Mr. Rooney, because I have to."

"Be quiet," Rooney held up his hand. He turned around very slowly. "Now, I'm going to be short and to the point with this," he went on, "What the hell is Ferris going to do next?"

"Now why would you think he'd tell me?" Jeannie asked, confused. "Look Mr. Rooney, I can guess you're still a little sore about last April, but let me say that."

"Oh yes, last April, let's talk about that," Rooney cut in again. "I had Ferris dead to rights there, and about to make this school safe again, when you had to cut in and cheat me out of him!"

"So sue me if it means that much to you!" Jeannie exclaimed, throwing up her hands.

"As a matter of fact missy, it does!" Rooney snarled. "Now as I was asking you, what your brother up to next!?"

"I don't know," Jeannie repeated. There was something in the way Rooney was looking at her just now that she didn't like. "I said I don't know!" she cried again as he shook his head slowly after her last answer, "Contrary to what you may be thinking, I'm not his accomplice! I was against his being out of school that day all morning and afternoon! You just caught me at a bad time, that's all!"

"A bad time, huh," Rooney said coldly, "You expect me to believe that!? You and your whole family is rotten to the core!" Now answer me, where's Ferris going to be tonight!?"

He advanced menacingly toward her. Jeannie cowered against the door. "I swear, Mr. Rooney, I don't know anything!" she protested.

"Goddamn it, I want an answer!" without any warning, Rooney grabbed her by the shirt and began throttling her. "Please stop it!" she begged.

"Not until you tell me where he'll be!" he bellowed.

"Ed, is everything okay in there!?" Grace called in through the closed door.

"Everything's fine Grace; it's time for you to go home for the holidays!" Rooney yelled out at her. There was the sound of feet shuffling as Grace left. Realizing she was alone, Jeannie looked her one last hope. "All right, I heard him say something at breakfast about visiting Giovanni's Pizza for dinner!" she cried out. It was a lie, but she was desperate for Rooney to leave her alone.

"Very good," the principal said, releasing her, "That wasn't so hard now, was it?" Jeannie shook her head furiously. "Now run along," Rooney told her almost as if he was talking to a dog, "And if I find that you've just lied to me, I'll hunt you down and decapitate you with my bare hands. And what happened in here just now is strictly off the records; if you tell anyone, I'll shoot you myself at least a hundred times. Is that perfectly clear?"

Jeannie nodded tearfully and ran out of the office. Rooney smiled as he watched her go. He'd been waiting eight agonizing months to get back at her for costing him Ferris, and to make her feel sorry for it had made him feel very good inside. Hopefully, he thought, he'd soon be doing the same to the rest of the accursed Bueller family.

"Turn left here, and here we are," Del said, pointing to a sign inscribed ROLLING GREEN NURSING HOME hanging over a low, long, dilapidated building at the end of an Indianapolis alley.

"This is a nursing home?" Neal asked, taken aback somewhat by the building's rather lackluster appearance.

"It used to be a monastery before the state took it over in the fifties," Del explained, "And I think the church still runs it, because for as far as I know, they always seem to be short on funds to revamp the place."

"And you seriously wanted to put your father here?"

"Well, my dad's family was from the Indianapolis area, and throughout his life, he was always saying how he wanted to die and be buried here, and I was only too happy to bring him back here, and although I admit I'd have wanted something a little bit more fancier, I guess."

"Del!" Neal put his watch in Del's face, "We're on a schedule here!"

"Oh yeah," Del got out of the car. "I guess we'd better just limit it to an hour here, then." He stopped halfway to the door when he realized Nancy wasn't coming. "Don't you want to meet my dad?" he asked her.

"One Griffith is enough," was all Nancy would say to this. Del shrugged and said, "Okay, but I think you'd like him."

The main corridor of the nursing home was just as run-down as the outside. From the height of the ceiling, the lobby had probably once been the monastery's main chapel when it had been a church building. "Three to see Sidney Griffith," Del told the receptionist at the front desk. "Sign here," the receptionist handed him a sheet.

"Miss, do you happen to have a quarter?" Neal asked her, "I want to give my family a call."

"No," the receptionist shook her head.

"I have one in my wallet, Neal," Clark dug into his pocket. He frowned. "Or at least I thought I did."

Neal rolled his eyes. "You can't even manage your money, let alone your vacations!" he grumbled.

"I've got one here, Neal," Del fished into his own wallet and dug out a quarter. He flipped it in Neal's direction.only it missed and rolled down into a crack in the floor. Neal reached down for it, but was unable to retrieve it. "Next time just hand it to me!" he told the salesman, exasperated.

"Sorry," Del dug deep into his wallet, "Uh, all I have now is a dime, two nickels, and five pennies, if that'll work."

"I'll find out," Neal dropped this coin combination into the phone's money slot. Apparently it didn't work, as there was no dial tone on the line. He growled and pressed down on the coin release--which didn't give him the money back. Slugging the phone a few times, he finally noticed a change machine just inside the door. Pulling out a dollar, he stuck that in, expecting it to be shredded with his luck. While this didn't happen, the result was still a bit wild: about a million quarters shot out the drop slot and hit him in the chest.

"Nice going, buddy, now you've broken it!" snapped the receptionist.

"Well EXCUUUUUSE ME!" Neal shot back at her in a venting of his frustration with the whole affair. Picking up one of the quarters, he went back to the phone, inserted it into the slot, and dialed Susan's parents' number.

"Please be in, please be in," he muttered under his breath. Luckily, this time fate was kind to him. "Hello?" came Marti's voice at the other end.

"Hi, kiddo, it's me," Neal told her, thrilled to be able to hear her voice again.

"DADDY!!" Marti shrieked at the top of her lungs. Neal heard the phone whack into the wall--likely dropped--and his daughter screaming "DADDY'S ALIVE!" to someone else. An uproar of sorts could be heard on the other end before the phone was picked back up. "Who is this?" asked Susan, sounding dubious that it was really her husband who was calling.

"Susan, it's me," Neal said.

"Neal!?"

"Yes, I know our plane went down, but Del and I got off on time," he continued. "We're in Indianapolis now. If the weather holds out, I guess we'll."

There was a loud thump on the other end. Susan had apparently fainted from the shock. "Hello?" Neal asked. "Susan?"

"Somebody get some water!" someone yelled on the other end. There was a few minutes of commotion before the phone was picked back up by Neal's mother, as it turned out. "Neal, is that you!?" she asked, breathless.

"Yes Mom, I'm alive," Neal told her.

"Oh thank God!" Mrs. Page exhorted, "We all thought you'd died in that plane crash!"

"No, luckily Del and I jumped out at the last minute," Neal told her. "As I was telling Susan before she passed out, we're in Indianapolis right now, visiting Del's father; if the weather holds out, I think we'll be in Chicago sometime tonight."

"We'll try and get there as soon as possible," Mrs. Page told her son, "Take care of yourself. Oh you have no idea how happy this makes the holiday for all of us to know you're okay!"

"Love you too, Mom, see you when I get there," Neal said in parting. "Well, I put them in shock, but at least now I've allayed their fears about me," he told the others.

"Very good," Del smiled. "Come on, Dad's in Room 17 down the hall on the right, fourth door."

The rooms in the nursing home were little more than converted monk cells, small and narrow. Del stuck his head in the door of number 17. "Dad, merry Christmas," he called in. Sidney Griffith, a much thinner man compared to his son with thinning hair, was hunched over on his bed watching the TV against the far wall. He appeared surprised by Del's presence. "Son?" he asked.

"Great to see you again, Dad," Del gave his father a big bear hug. "I just happened to be passing by, and I couldn't resist stopping by. These are my friends, Neal Page and Clark Griswold."

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Griffith," Clark said, giving Sidney's hand a vigorous pumping.

"Please, call me Sidney," he told him.

"You know, Del never said anything about you before," Neal said, also shaking his hand.

"Well it's been a few years since we last spoke," Sidney said. Then his face grew brighter and he said, "I don't get many visitors. What's your name?"

"Neal Page, I just said," Neal said, confused. He shot Del a puzzled glance. "Uh, Del?"

"He's had Alzheimer's for some time now; occasionally he blanks out and goes back to where he was five minutes ago," Del explained, "So if he asks your name over and over again, that's why."

"I'll keep that in mind," Neal's attention was now taken over by a large brightly colored poster on the wall proclaiming SCHMENGE BROTHERS CIRCUS, MAY 10-20, KING COUNTY FAIRGROUNDS. "So, Sidney, I see you're a circus aficionado," he commented.

"I don't get many visitors. What's your name?" Sidney repeated.

"Uh, Neal Page.again."

"Dad used to work as a clown for the Schmenge Brothers' Circus for over twenty years," Del said, examining the poster fondly, "This was one of the last old-school circuses that rode the rails to each location and put up tents and staged parades through town before each show at the site. It was always a thrill when they came to Seattle. For a while I wanted to be a clown just like him myself."

"I see we're still a clown sometimes,' Clark said, having discovered Sidney's old clown suit hanging inside the closet.

"Well, you never know when it'll come in handy," Sidney admitted, coming over and giving the bright green suit a gentle stroking.

"Here's Dad with some of the other clowns," Del continued, pointing to a picture hanging on the wall above the poster, "He's right here on the left. I remember these guys; that's Martyn Burke right next to him, there's two Steves on the right--Steve Levy and Stephen Young--and that's John Stocker in the center. There were about a dozen others in the troupe who aren't in this picture."

"Keep those elephants quiet, Alexander; some of us have to get some sleep!" Sidney yelled at the window.

"Andrew Alexander, he was the elephant trainer," Del explained to Neal and Clark. "He was the ringmaster's brother-in-law, so he kind of acted at times like he owned the circus, but I loved his elephants. This was back when they left male and female elephants together, so occasionally they'd go on a sex-induced rampage over the midway during mating season and cause a hell of a lot of damage."

"So you work with the circus at all, Del?" Clark asked him.

"Uh, not officially, Clark, but occasionally when the circus would stop by in Seattle, Dad would ask the Schemeges to let me participate in the act, and for a couple of nights I'd be a junior clown; boy I can tell you stories of that forever and ever!" Del chuckled, "And on top of all that, I'd get a free backstage tour of the show, as well as front row seats when I wasn't performing. That was always a good perk."

He strolled over to as larger picture near the window apparently showing the whole circus and inscribed, THE SCHMENGE EXTENDED FAMILY--1951 SEASON. "I remember most of these people, even though half of them are dead now," he said nostalgically. "That's me in the front row with Dad and the other clowns."

"You look a lot thinner here, Del," Neal said, gazing at the photo. Del grunted uncomfortably with the issue of his weight being brought up again. "Anyway," he continued, "Over here's Gerry Boyle, he was the lion tamer; he practically had to shoo me away from his lions half the time. About two rows down in front of him's Jonathan O'Mara, the high wire walker. Up front we've got Bernie Sahlin, the ringmaster, he always had milk and cookies after the show for the performers' kids. In the back behind Dad's Mary Kerr, she was a juggler and acrobat, and one of the nicest people I ever met. Front and center here's John Slan; Dad had a falling out with him toward the end of their careers for reasons he never fully told me, but he was one hell of a human cannonball. In the back there we have the husband and wife team of Frankie Hernandez and Claire Burrill, they did duty on the trapeze. And here's Monica Parker; not only did she light up the big top with her dog act, but she also wowed them in the sideshow tent as the human blockhead."

"A dog show AND human blockhead?" Neal was impressed.

"Yeah, she'd hammer these huge nails through her skull; it was kind of gross, but somehow yet attractive," Del said. "I formed a kind of special bond with the sideshows people over the years, seeing how most of them were scorned by the rest of the world. Now Monica eventually married this guy here, the Alligator Man, and at last check, they're living happily in retirement in Palm Beach. Their daughter still travels around as the Yak Woman; she's got these huge horns growing out of her head."

"I've heard of her,' Clark said, "She's touring with the carnival Eddie's son's working for."

"Damn you, McNall; I'll kill you if it's the last thing I ever do!" Without any warning, Sidney leaped at Neal and started slugging him over and over again. Del quickly pulled his father off his friend and sat him back down on the bed. "It's okay Dad, he's dead now," he told him. Turning to the stunned Neal, he added quickly, "Philo McNall, he was a crooked businessman who bought out the circus from the Schmenges and gutted it until it was a shell of its former glory. The performers all hated him, and some of them did try to kill him, although it was the IRS that got him in the end for back taxes. You can't run form them, that's for sure."

"Nope," Sidney shook his head triumphantly. Then he asked Del, "So, what did you get me for Christmas?"

"Uh, well, to be honest Dad, this was a last minute arrangement, and so I didn't think of anything, so I guess my presence here will have to be present enough," Del said, putting his hand around his father's shoulder, "And after all those years we spent apart, I guess it's fair enough."

Sidney smiled. "Well Del, you always were the type of person who enjoyed giving others the simple pleasures," he said, squeezing his son's arm. "And I have to admit you're right about the past too; maybe we wouldn't have had such a rough spell as we did there twenty years ago if I hadn't been on the road so much. Seeing how you became a traveler yourself, I wonder how Marie did with you being away from her all the time."

"Well Marie was a woman with incredible patience Dad, as you know, and I kept in touch with her just about every day, so.."

"YEEACH!" Clark exclaimed suddenly. He had gone to Sidney's refrigerator, presumably to get something to drink, and had been caught off guard when a pie on a spring set up inside had been set off and flung into his face. Seeing him like that, Sidney chuckled. "Whoops, forgot I had that in there,' he said, only half-meaning it, "I meant that for the guy who comes in at night to clean the place; he's always sneaking into my stuff."

"Well I think it's going to work when you do decide to let him have it, Sid," Clark said sheepishly, reaching for some nearby paper towels. "Sheesh, I've heard of people getting their just desserts, but this is ridiculous!" he muttered as he wiped himself off, "If Ellen had been around to see this, she'd have..."

"Quiet a minute," Neal interrupted. He was watching the TV screen, which was showing aerial photographs of an old military base. "And this was the scene just twenty minutes ago, when military police raided this former army compound in New Jersey believed to be the hideout of fugitive general David A. Blum," the correspondent was saying, "but preliminary estimates indicate that the police missed Blum by no more than a half hour. Sources are telling us that the compound had been completely laid bare by the time MPs got there, and that the missile codes stolen a few days ago had been removed as well. General Blum, once a major official on the Joint Chiefs of Staff in the 80s, was dishonorably discharged after it was found he'd ordered numerous atrocities during the Vietnamese War. He and his command disappeared before they could be brought to trial, and Blum is suspected to have carried out numerous terrorist attacks against U.S. interests around the world since then in retribution. A $50,000 reward has been issued by the."

Something occurred to Neal. He tore open the briefcase he'd been carrying for the last two days. "Missile codes," he breathed.

"What about them?" Clark asked.

"These are what those guys have been after us for,' Neal said, showing him all the papers, "This is what they've been so." He trailed off as an unpleasant sound reached his ears from outside: helicopters landing. "Please God, don't tell me that's them now!" he pleaded.

Unfortunately, at that moment Nancy came charging in with just that news: "Neal, they're coming!" she gasped out of breath.

"Uh, Mr. Griffith, where's best place to hide in this building?" Clark asked the former clown.

"Probably the laundry room around the corner," Del's father told him. "Don't you guys panic, I'll cover your backs."

"Uh, Sidney, I don't think that'll do much good with these guys," Neal told him. "Thanks for the hiding tip, though."

The four of them scurried down the hall toward the laundry room--and not a second two soon, for no sooner had they slipped inside the door then, as they could see at least a dozen soldiers break open the front door and storm up to the desk. "Where are these people!?" Colonel Champlin demanded the receptionist, flashing photos in her face. When all she could do was stammer in fright, the colonel lost his patience and, to the travelers' horror, fired a bullet directly into her temple. "All right men, split up and search this dump!" he ordered the troops, "The general will be here in twenty minutes, and I damn well want something to show for this!"

"Oh perfect, now the general himself is coming!" Neal muttered, hastily closing the door, "Oh well, now at least we'll die face to face with that nut."

"Well maybe if we give him the codes, he'll let us off scot-free, Neal," Clark suggested.

Sparky, this guy shot down a plane full of men, women and children, he's been after us for the last two days; he's not going to let us go alive after all this!" Neal pointed out pessimistically.

"Well you can go out like that if you want; I'm going home to see Ellen and make it all up to her even if.!"

"Shhhh!" Del whispered. He was looking at the stacks of clothes for the nursing home's residents on the floor near the washing machines. "I have an idea. I don't think some of you are going to like it, but it may be the very thing that gets us out of here alive."

"What, what do you mean we aren't going to like it, Del?" Neal asked, frowning. This was sounding as though it was a plan that would end up stripping him of even more dignity.