Bob's entire body ached as he pulled himself out of the water by the Springfield Dam. His face still hurt from getting hit in the face with that stupid underwater rake. He had no idea how the rake had ended up there; it was as if the blasted gardening tool could teleport to wherever he was. Though Bob had survived that attempt to end his own wretched life, thanks to his new gills and other genetic alterations combined with his own skill at swimming, he felt so damn exhausted. He wished he'd given himself the DNA of a creature with high energy, like a Commerson's dolphin. The energy rush that came from mania and murderous rage had worn off now, leaving Bob with an odd tingling feeling in his heart and on his skin. The latter sensation probably came from Springfield's water, which was of questionable quality.
Bob wasn't certain of whether or not to be relieved that he remained alive. He'd turned himself into a freak of nature, he'd failed again at doing something decent, he'd failed at killing Bart again, he wouldn't get rearrested if he were dead, and he wouldn't have to live with the guilt of betraying Lisa's trust. Bob squinted up at the top of the dam, so high above him, and couldn't see anyone. Enough energy returned to help Bob slip away, still dazed from his near-death experience and the remnants of his conscience fighting to escape from the back of his tormented mind.