Bob reclined on the Simpsons' couch, watching television even as his eyes ached from staring at the screen for so long. Here he was, a man who had almost destroyed an entire town in an attempt to get rid of television, now subjecting himself to the mind-dissolving garbage he normally despised. Perhaps the Simpsons were rubbing off on him, but for the moment, Bob didn't have the energy to be bothered by this. The stress caused by the constant shocks and the difficulties in finding Homer's would-be killer meant that Bob's mind had pretty much collapsed, and now he'd stooped to the level of an easily distracted college student: letting his mental capacities further decay in place of doing something constructive.
On the floor, Maggie played with blocks. Now that Bob had found out what Maggie was capable of, he no longer considered Marge even more insane than he for letting her infant be alone with the man who had tried to murder both her firstborn and her sister. Then again, many people wanted Bart and Selma dead. Perhaps all of the radiation in this town brought out people's mad, murderous sides more easily.
Now, though, Maggie looked like your average, innocent, curious baby, making a tower of blocks and knocking them down, apparently to see what sort of sound the blocks made when they hit the floor. She did this over and over, and Bob began to find her little game more compelling than the painfully cliched soap opera that was on.
"Maggie," Bob said after the child had knocked down her tower for the twelfth time, "you do realize that nothing different is going to happen? It will be the same every time...rather like the outcomes of my plans."
Bob started to tug at his hair, and he felt himself become rather twitchy, but Maggie was unfazed. In fact, she giggled, and that snapped Bob out of his little madness fit.
"I fail to see what's so amusing."
Maggie imitated what Bob had just done, then giggled again. She came closer to the couch and raised her arms, so Bob helped her up. He quickly regretted this when it turned out that Maggie wanted to play with his hair. Bob cringed when the laughing baby pulled on it. Though Bob felt his jaw clench and his eye twitch, he wasn't cruel enough to hurt an infant, even if this particular infant wasn't the typical helpless kind. Bob managed to gently pry Maggie off of him, and he lowered her to the floor.
"Alright, alright, back you go."
A scowling Maggie began to play with her blocks again. She looked over at the TV and gave a single suck on her pacifier.
"My sentiments exactly," Bob said, and he changed the channel.