"you're giving me a restraining order?" hissed Bart, "are you nuts?"

Lisa smirked back, "you were right. Mom and dad are figureheads without any authority, but the police aren't." she shrugged, "you don't get closer to me that twenty feet, and we'll have no problems"

He, after spending a night in police dungeons, knew better than to argue, "alright. as you wish" he said, before leaving the room, not missing Lisa's mischievous chuckle.

Over the next week, Bart's life got worse day after day.

On Sunday morning, Homer had this brilliant idea of creating a pole so Lisa could enforce the order, and had this even better idea of putting a screwdriver on the end of it, which meant Lisa could poke him, an advantage she didn't shy to abuse, which meant Bart's arm was maimed by the Monday.

On Monday, Skinner called Bart to his office, explaining he couldn't remain in school grounds, and in order not to miss any education, he had to go to 'the place out of the laws of god and man', Willie's shack.
which was full of manure, smelled like a pig hole, and reeked. Not to mention willie's knowledge about math was inferior even to Bart.

On Tuesday, Bart had to eat lunch outside, while it rained, and even the bullies weren't outside to keep him company.

On Wednesday, Lisa deliberately poked Bart out of the graphic novels section in the library to the gay interests' section, which meant the bullies (Who were just looking for a reason to make fun of him, for there was no other reason for them to be in a library) call "hey, Bart's coming outta the closet!" with half the library laughing at him.

On Thursday, on Bart's check-up with Dr. Hibbert, he found out his arm's nerve system had been damaged, and fixing it was a cost homer was not going to pay ("your problem boy, I'm not paying for it!")

But the worst came six days after it all started, on a Friday night.

"BART!" poke, "pass me the salt!" said Lisa with a straight face, even though the salt shaker was next to her plate. "Pick it up yourself" said Bart, not looking up.

He couldn't even eat at the table, watching TV as he ate a plate of cold meatloaf, and he was, once again seeing the extent of family support when it came to him.

Homer was laughing his ass off, and Marge did nothing more that grumble at the scene they were making.

Truly and utterly useless, the lot of them.

POKE, "Bart!" he growled, "what do you want, Simpson?" venomously, his mind full of bloody scenarios of what he was going to do to Lisa if he could get the chance. Lisa replied sweetly, "what, can't I talk to my own brother?"

Homer, his head in the clouds, mumbled "yeah, answer her, boy!"

That made him explode, "because of that stupid pole of yours, I've lost all nerve activity in my arms, Simpson. excuse me if I'm not feeling the love!" he said, before looking at his plate, that the dog had emptied into its stomach. "aw screw this, I'm outta here!" he said, before storming off to his room, Lisa and Homer laughing at him, Marge grumbling once more.

Once inside, he lost all sense, mumbling "stupid Lisa torturing me with … why do I even... I shouldn't have to take this-" until his eyes fell on two pieces of paper on the top of his bed.

License of Emancipation, and deed to a flat on an apartment complex.

His eyes brightened with determination, and he opened his two travelling bag, his mouth widened into a grin.

Saturday morning cartoon shows were always a favorite past-time activity of Lisa's, and basically a holy duty for Bart.

Every Saturday, Bart would be sitting by the TV, laughing his ass off to the mouth executing the cat on the big screen, and Lisa would be next to him, doing the same.

This was the second Saturday this month that Lisa was here alone, and she planned to stay alone for the rest of the show. It would be a good lesson for Bart, to learn never to make fun of her again.

Imagine her surprise when he never came down the stairs.

Of course she didn't pay that much attention to it. Bart was a quick learner. He'd probably learned he wasn't welcome down here. But when two hours later, nine in the morning and with dad and Mom down there and breakfast ready, he still hadn't showed up, it was marge who found something missing.

"hey, where's Bart?" she asked, when the empty seat was still empty three minutes after she'd called 'BREAKFAST!', "he's never been late for a weekend meal before!"

"Relax marge, he's probably sleeping in. let the boy have his fun" rolling her eyes at Dad's words, Lisa said "I'll go wake him"

she picked the pole, and opening the door to his room, poked him with it.

Nothing happened.

She tried again, this time harder so it would hurt the boy back into the world of living. The boy didn't even move.

She grumbled and went over to wake him in a more classical manner, she pulled over the blanket "ii swear I'll-"

There was no Bart in the bed. Just a bunch of pillows and three letters in them.

'Lisa', 'homer', and 'Marge'.

Oh, great Nirvana! She thought frantically, he's done it again, she yelled "MOM! DAD! Bart's not here!"

Before opening her envelope, reading the letter.

Lisa

You can have the house. I'm leaving.

Don't contact me again, not in school and not with a phone, and in case Homer's too dumb to read a letter, tell him he'll have to resume paying back all the money he owes me, which I've found is more than what we thought at first. If he doesn't, I'll see you at court, and Hutz can't take down my lawyer.

This is it for me here, I', Leaving, and by the time you've read this, I've packed all that was dear to me. I'm not going to return. Ever. By Monday, my new school program will be ready, so you'll have to see me more in the school, sorry if I disappointed you. Don't ask how, there are loopholes is every law, Restriction laws aren't an exception.

You win, I hope you choke on it.

Bartholomew J Simpson

And that was it. her last relic from Bart Simpson, unless she could find him and convince him to return.

Or not. Why should I always be the one to mend a broken friendship? Bart's not Blameless in this equation. He hasn't had enough, like always he's just too much of a coward to stay and take his punishment like a man. Hell, he'll be back by the Sunday.

And then, as if this were a sappy movie, Maggie touched the play button on Bart's old music player, and guess what started playing?

Brother and a sister, we're trying not to boast/ but we can't help believin' that we'll always be this close!

AN: hello. This is my newest story, an always complete ongoing series based on an episode of the same name.

The basic idea was what if Simpsons had any sort of Continuity in it?

Imagine, if Bart still had his license of Emancipation and that deed to an apartment, he wouldn't need to live in the wilds, he could just go somewhere else, and since it's the simpsons, he'd find a way to earn money.

Well, it would be a better thing that to actually put Lisa in a good light for putting a restraining order on her own brother. For gods sake, they live in the same place, you don't do that to a sibling.

(not to say bart's blameless, as always he started it, and should have paid in a way, but not that. Sorry, but no one has to live in a tent next to their own house. And besides, only three good deeds?)

That's it for now,

I don't really know when i'll update again,

Davoid signing off