I haven't written fanfiction in a long time; I thought I swore off it. While I am outlining my children series while working two jobs and going to school at the same time, I thought I would work on an alternate ending to one of my favorite movies, "Home Alone." In this, Kevin is unable to call the police and Old Man Marley doesn't show up. In short, it's an ending where the Wet Bandits win.

"911 Emergency," was what Kevin McAllister expected the phone to say when he dialed the number. There was nothing. What? He thought, I just called the other night when I ordered pizza from Lil Nero's!

"You bomb me with one more can, kid-" he heard Harry shout as his voice became closer. Kevin gulped, trying the police again. He received silence once again from the other end. Harry concluded, "-And I'll snap off your cajones and boil them in motor oil!"

Kevin gave up, confidently thinking to himself that he'd find an alternative. Dialing the police wasn't his problem at the moment; he had to defend his house. His plan to contact the police posing as his neighbor Mr. Murphy was out the window, just as he was literally suppose to be in his next plan of action. There's always the church, they won't follow me in there.

Kevin raced out of the master bedroom, ducking under the thin rope he installed. He looked behind him for a moment to see Harry. "There he is!" the man announced to Marv. Kevin raced to the attic stairs, glancing behind to see the older burglar on the floor, wind knocked out, and the younger one diving for him. Kevin felt a hand coil around his ankle; his heart stopped.

"Ha ha!" Marv exclaimed, "I gotcha! I got him, Harry. I got him!"

Kevin's eyes widened at the injured, but much stronger man who had possession of his leg. As Marv tried to alert his partner to help, Kevin looked around in panic. There he noticed it; Axl, the loose tarantula of his older brother Buzz. His saving grace. He reached for it, missing once, but succeeding in the second attempt. He snatched the animal, and placed it perfectly on Marv's face. Kevin raced up the stairs at the same time as Marv screamed in horror.

Kevin abandoned the BB gun and grabbed hold of the bicycle handlebars he installed on the makeshift zip line. He looked down, three stories below, and took off after a little hesitation. He crashed landed, knocking part of the flimsy wall off in the tree house. He immediately stood up, recognizing the forms of the criminals at the attic window. "Down here, you big horse's ass! Come and get me before I call the police!"

Kevin fetched a large pair of scissors, returning to the rope as soon as the bandits made their way in the middle. He was enjoying outsmarting adults; adults who had always looked down on him, adults who thought he was helpless, adults who thought they were superior. Not this time, "Hey guys," he cooed, threatening to cut the rope.

The men tried their best to travel back to the house, but to no avail. Kevin cut the rope, and as soon as it snapped, he hurriedly traveled down the ladder of the tree house. He wanted to watch them slam into the brick wall, but there was no time. He started to run to the Murphy's house.

When Kevin was in front of the Murphy's multi-colored lighted house, he turned around. Marv and Harry were right behind him, standing in his front yard. Marv pointed and said, 'There he is!"

"Hey, I'm calling the cops," Kevin said. The words dawned on him as soon as he started to run to the cellar doors in the back. He hadn't called the cops, and in the flurry of action, he noticed there was a flaw in his plan. The church? No, it was too late. The robbers were right behind him, and it was impossible for him to turn away and run to God's haven. Maybe their phone is working?

Kevin doubted his thoughts as he emerged himself in a flooded basement. The water nearly came up to his knees. A floor lamp dimly lit the room, eerily floating in the flood. He rushed up the stairs, his mind scrambling as to what he would do next. Mitch Murphy was about his age, and he would go to his house from time to time. He tried to remember where his parents kept their landline. The kitchen? Maybe the study? He would just have to go in without a plan, it was the only he could do.

His plans came to a halt as he opened the door. Standing in front of him, Marv Merchants and Harry Lime. Kevin froze. Marv, visibly angry, with the iron imprint accentuating his emotion. Harry, smirking, "Hiya, pal. We outsmarted ya this time." His voice was soft, and light, completely contrasting when he snapped, and grabbed Kevin, "Get over here!"

They hung him by his sweater on a coat hanger. Kevin felt like a small animal cornered in front of two angry lions; lions he had wronged. He couldn't say anything, or do anything for that matter, except, listen to what they were saying.

"What are we going to do to him, Harry!?"

"We'll do exactly what he did to us," Harry said matter-of-factly, "We're going to burn his head with a blowtorch."

"And we're going to smash his face with an i-arn!" Marv said as a Maryland accent swept through in his anger.

"I'd like to slap him in the face with a paint can, maybe."

"And shove a nail through his foot!"

"The first thing I'm gonna do is bite off every one of there little fingers," Harry selected the boys pinky, "…one at a time."

As the teeth closed in around Kevin's finger, he finally came to his senses. Recognizing his own mortality, Kevin grabbed onto the thick coat hanger with his free hand and kneed Harry in the jaw, causing his finger to cut open from the teeth, but in the sudden defense Kevin was able to land on the ground, his sweater ripping from the action. An action in which he thought was damaging, but in reality, was only stunning. Kevin barely realized that he was already trapped again, an enraged Harry snatching his arms and slamming him against the wall with all his might. Pain rushed over Kevin, and then, nothing.