Bart was in trouble, after he put a dead bird in the salad they had for lunch. He had been sent to his room, but he had climbed into his treehouse through the tree.
He was sitting around playing on his phone when he realised he was thirsty. He climbed back into his room and called out. "Mom, can I have a drink?". Marge yelled back up the stairs "No! You don't deserve any!". Bart couldn't belive it. "Hey, this is illigal! You have to let me have water!" he shouted back. "SHUT UP BOY!" screamed Homer. "NO WATER UNTIL YOU CLEAN YOUR ROOM!" he roared. Bart went back to his treehouse and sat down. "Those morons, won't let me have water" he said to himself. "I'll show them!" Bart climbed out the window and onto the tree. The branch went right up to his window. He jumped in and landed silently, like a cat. He sneaked into the upstairs bathroom and opened the cupboard under the sink, and pulled out a bucket. He put it under the tap and filled it up with water. The bucket was now very heavy,
and he struggled to pick it up. He lugged it over to his window, with great dificulity and put the bucket on the ground. "How will I get this over to the treehouse?" he asked himself. He pondered taking it down the stairs, but that would cause suspision from everybody. Plus, it would be easier just to fill up the bucket outside. He looked under his bed, and saw a rope. Bart grabbed it and tied one end to the bucket, and lifted it onto the windowsill. He held onto the rope with one hand and pushed the bucket out with the other. The bucket was heavy and plunged towards the ground and Bart grabbed onto the rope, stopping it. Bart, still holding the rope in his hand, climbed out of his window and back onto the tree branch. With the bucket dangling just above the ground, Bart walked along the branch of the tree.
He carefully walked along the branch, holding onto a higher branch with his free hand. Every step he took, the bucket swayed more. But somehow, he reached the window without falling out of the tree. He climed in and pulled the bucket up after him. He put it on the floor, and got a cup and drunk from it. But with the bucket on the floor, he had noware to sit. He wanted to put the bucket on his table, but it was covered in rocks he thought were gold. He scooped them up and tossed them out of the window. He heard a thud of the rocks hitting something, and then another, louder thud. He looked out the window, wondering what the noises were.
He was sitting around playing on his phone when he realised he was thirsty. He climbed back into his room and called out. "Mom, can I have a drink?". Marge yelled back up the stairs "No! You don't deserve any!". Bart couldn't belive it. "Hey, this is illigal! You have to let me have water!" he shouted back. "SHUT UP BOY!" screamed Homer. "NO WATER UNTIL YOU CLEAN YOUR ROOM!" he roared. Bart went back to his treehouse and sat down. "Those morons, won't let me have water" he said to himself. "I'll show them!" Bart climbed out the window and onto the tree. The branch went right up to his window. He jumped in and landed silently, like a cat. He sneaked into the upstairs bathroom and opened the cupboard under the sink, and pulled out a bucket. He put it under the tap and filled it up with water. The bucket was now very heavy,
and he struggled to pick it up. He lugged it over to his window, with great dificulity and put the bucket on the ground. "How will I get this over to the treehouse?" he asked himself. He pondered taking it down the stairs, but that would cause suspision from everybody. Plus, it would be easier just to fill up the bucket outside. He looked under his bed, and saw a rope. Bart grabbed it and tied one end to the bucket, and lifted it onto the windowsill. He held onto the rope with one hand and pushed the bucket out with the other. The bucket was heavy and plunged towards the ground and Bart grabbed onto the rope, stopping it. Bart, still holding the rope in his hand, climbed out of his window and back onto the tree branch. With the bucket dangling just above the ground, Bart walked along the branch of the tree.
He carefully walked along the branch, holding onto a higher branch with his free hand. Every step he took, the bucket swayed more. But somehow, he reached the window without falling out of the tree. He climed in and pulled the bucket up after him. He put it on the floor, and got a cup and drunk from it. But with the bucket on the floor, he had noware to sit. He wanted to put the bucket on his table, but it was covered in rocks he thought were gold. He scooped them up and tossed them out of the window. He heard a thud of the rocks hitting something, and then another, louder thud. He looked out the window, wondering what the noises were.