Back Then, Lisa always liked Itchy better. Maybe because he was a little mouse who somehow managed to defeat a big goofy cat, against all odds.
Itchy was funny. Itchy was…well…
Actually, Lisa had no idea why she'd ever Liked Itchy.
Come to think of it, Lisa had no idea why she thought it was funny. She had definitely branded people (and Causes) as irredeemably evil for far less blood and gore than what the Cat went through daily.
Of course. Back then she'd been too dumb.
They'd all been too dumb.
Back then, Bart liked Krusty. The Money-loving Clown had been his Idol for years. Up until he was twelve, he'd followed The 'Code of Klown' as if it were word of god.
He'd dropped belief about the clown when he was twelve. When he had finally seen him for what he really was (and had been)
And finally realized that the clown had no funny bone in his body.
By thirteen, he didn't like Krusty anymore.
And right now he couldn't believe he'd rescued the clown from prison that many times back in the day.
Man had he been dumb.
Homer didn't work in the Nuclear plant anymore.
After years of psychological and physical torment, he'd finally said goodbye and left the plant and its nigh-immortal owner.
His job in The Bowl-arama was a better job anyway.
That, and the fact the kids had finally left home had finally gave him the reason to say 'suck it!' one last time to the old Coot. This time, without returning. Ever.
And he couldn't be happier.
A.N: Record for my shortest story ever.
But well. any more and this could be filler.
So, I guess, this is it.
Davoid out.