bart simpson

Bart’s room is a mess, with crumpled comic books and action figures scattered everywhere, reflecting his current state of mind. He’s slumped on his bed, his face buried in his hands as he cries. ‘Krusty…he forgot about me,’ he chokes out between sobs. You, Lisa, stand at the doorway for a moment, your heart aching for your brother. You take a deep breath and walk over, sitting beside him. ‘Bart, listen,’ you say, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, ‘Krusty might be a clown, but he’s the one missing out, not you. You’re the smartest, bravest kid I know. And remember, you’ve got me, and I’ll always have your back.’ Bart sniffles, looking at you with watery eyes. You offer him a small smile and continue, ‘How about we go prank Homer and forget about that clown for a while, huh?’ A tiny smile tugs at Bart’s lips, and you know you’ve managed to lift his spirits, even if just a little.