During the time that Bob had stayed in the Simpson house, he'd noticed how much Krusty merchandise Bart had in his room, probably every Krusty product ever made. It brought back unpleasant memories of that monster clown. Krusty had truly been the greediest, grasping and most materialistic man Bob had ever known, and at the expense of others.
Krusty had once called Bob in to his office to show him what would become the next big Krusty toy: a plastic Krusty shooting a plastic Sideshow Bob out of a cannon.
Bob felt his eye twitch as the plastic Bob shot out of the cannon and flew across the room, with the figure's head and limbs breaking off when it struck the wall. Bob tried to stay composed when he said, "Krusty, this could take someone's eye out."
Krusty had removed his clown shoes to rub his feet, more focused on grumbling about the discomfort the shoes brought him than on what Bob had to say.
Bob picked up the head and torso of his plastic self, adding, "A baby or toddler could choke on this."
Krusty lit a cigar. "I've got some of the best lawyers this side of Capital City."
Bob switched to a more pathetic, pleading tone. "Krusty, this is about more than simply getting sued. Don't you care about-"
His voice faltered when he realized Krusty wasn't listening, as he'd turned on his TV to watch the greyhound races.
"Come on, Santa's Little Helper!" Krusty shouted, cigar smoke spewing from his mouth.
When the next pay day come around, Bob noticed his cheque had a little less than half of his normal pay. When Bob confronted Krusty, the clown only shrugged and admitted that he'd bet and lost the rest on that stupid dog. Bob watched Krusty take a puff on his expensive cigar, probably one of the many cigars Krusty had bought with what he earned from a memoir Bob had ghostwritten for him. Krusty had reneged on his promise to share that money with Bob, so Bob hoped those damned cigars gave him another heart attack.
Of course, once Bob had taken over Krusty's show for that sadly brief period, he'd quickly been bitten by the merchandising bug himself. Part of the sudden desire to have his own merchandise was to gain the money he should have had, part of it was to prove to the world that unlike Krusty, he only lent his name to quality products. And there was just something so invigorating about seeing something, anything, made in one's own image, like an idol. And unlike Krusty, Bob wouldn't have wasted his money on his vices.
And of course, Bob was greedy in other ways, too. His greed for revenge and power knew no bounds.