As the Bible said, "Pride goeth before a fall, and a haughty spirit before destruction." Though Bob had not (yet) been destroyed, he'd certainly had an awful lot of falls, with particular emphasis on "awful".
Of course, it wasn't necessarily wrong to have a little pride in oneself. Bob did have at least a few things to be proud of: being an "A+" student in school, graduating from one of the best universities in America when most others he knew had barely graduated from trade school, briefly hosting a children's program that was not condescending, and being the father of a spirited little son.
Of course, Bob's pride had also sent him down a terrible path. Persistent wounds to his pride had caused him to frame Krusty. His pride had caused him to believe he was too smart to be caught, especially by a mere child. His pride had driven him to attempt more crimes, especially for revenge on that child, and had only dug him into a deeper hole. His pride for his son was mainly because he saw Gino as an extension of himself, in both appearance and personality.
Well, that was the opinion of the prison psychiatrist.
Thoughts of this nature had kept Bob awake all night. He left his bunk, barely feeling himself bump his head on the upper bunk. Such big, thick hair did have a few advantages. Bob shuffled to the window of his cell and peered out through the bars, mentally cursing the stupid prison psychiatrist and how he'd never been of any help to him. Sometimes, Bob wondered if that so-called doctor was part of a conspiracy to keep the prison full. If he were any good, then perhaps Springfield wouldn't have one of the highest recidivism rates in the country. All that psychiatrist did was trouble his disturbed mind even more. Father was right about psychiatry being a discredited-
The half-asleep voice of Snake broke through the angry, tired haze of Bob's mind.
"Dude, pipe down! You were talking out loud again!"