An hour or so later, Lisa was sitting on Bart's bed in a lotus position, chanting, "Om...om...om..."
Marge inserted her head through the crack in the door. "Time for dinner," she announced.
Lisa snapped to attention. "Oh, Mom, you interrupted my meditation," she complained.
"Sorry," said Marge, and she disappeared.
"Oh well, I wasn't getting anywhere," mused Lisa-in-Bart as she climbed down from the bed. "It's harder to find my core as a boy. Maybe boys don't have cores."
As she strolled down the hallway, Bart-in-Lisa greeted her with a Malibu Stacy doll in his hand--one whose face had been decorated with war paint, and whose hair had been dyed in rainbow colors.
"AAAARGH!" shrieked Lisa. "My Malibu Stacy doll! What have you done?"
"I've discovered the joy of playing with dolls," Bart replied. "Wanna see how I touched up the others?"
Lisa only gaped at the crudely painted doll. Such a sight would normally cause her to start crying, but as a boy, her emotions channeled in another direction...
"Must...kill...Bart," she growled, clenching her fists.
"Not so fast, Lis," said Bart petulantly. "You wouldn't want to hurt your own body."
A few minutes later Bart and Lisa, both looking depressed, joined Homer, Marge, and Maggie at the dinner table. "Pork chops and mashed potatoes for Homer," said Marge as she doled out portions. "Pork chops and mashed potatoes for Bart, and for Lisa, mashed potatoes with a vegetarian garlic-portabello patty."
As Bart started to greedily devour the pork chop on her plate, Lisa joked, "Hey, look! It's Bart Simpson in Lisa Simpson's body, eating a pork chop!"
"Get bent," Bart grumbled between mouthfuls.
Lisa took a bite of her garlic-portabello patty. "Mom, Dad," she said, "for as long as I'm in Bart's body, I'd like you to call me Bart. For that matter, I'd like you to treat me like Bart in every way. It's less confusing for you, plus it helps me to fully experience being a boy."
"Wait a minute," Bart interrupted. "They can't call both of us Bart."
"No, they can't, Lisa."
"How's this?" Homer suggested. Pointing at Lisa, he said, "I'll call you 'the boy'." Pointing at Bart, he added, "And I'll call you 'the girl'. That way, there'll be no confusion at all."
"I hate that idea," Bart pouted.
"Too bad, girl."
Bart put down his fork. "I'm not hungry," he muttered, then walked away from the table. He mused upon his fate as he shuffled into the living room.
This is the worst thing that ever happened to me, he thought. No one deserves to be a girl...not even girls.
He took a seat on the couch and stared glumly at the skirt covering his legs. A moment later Snowball II jumped into his lap. "Hi, kitty," he mumbled indifferently. The black cat purred and rubbed her neck on the dress Bart was wearing.
Hmm, he mused wickedly. The cat thinks I'm Lisa. Maybe I can use his misplaced trust to my advantage.
A short while later, as Lisa was finishing her mashed potatoes, she, Homer, and Marge heard a cat screeching in the yard, accompanied by a series of firecracker explosions. "Snowball!" cried Marge as she looked out the window.
Homer flew into a rage. "Why, you little..." he snarled, wrapping his fingers around Lisa's throat.
"Homer, what are you doing?" Marge dissuaded him. "It's Lisa in there, remember?"
"Sorry, boy," said Homer, releasing his grip.
The girl-turned-boy struggled to catch her breath. "Now that I know how it feels," she remarked, "I'll never do it to a child of my own."
Bart was innocently watching TV when Homer and Marge confronted him. "I didn't do it," he lied.
At that moment a knock came at the door. Marge answered it, and Milhouse walked in. "Is Bart here?" he asked.
"Here I..." Bart started to say, but stopped himself.
Lisa hurried in from the kitchen. "Hi, Milhouse, what's up?"
"Do you want to come to my place and see my new ant farm?" Milhouse offered.
Bart's face lit up. "An ant farm? Cool!"
Lisa grimaced in disgust. "Ewww, ants!"
"I thought you liked ants," Milhouse said to Lisa.
"Uh, I do," said Lisa-in-Bart in embarrassment. "I was just making fun of my sister. She can't stand ants."
"Uh, yeah, that's right," said Bart-in-Lisa peevishly. "And I was making fun of my ant-freak brother."
"How about it, Bart?" Milhouse urged his friend.
"Uh, okay," answered Lisa somewhat nervously, and the two boys exited through the front door.
Bart turned to his parents and scowled. "This bites! Lisa's taken over my body, and now she's taking over my life!"
"It's only for a month, dear," Marge reassured her.
"But what if she decides to keep my body?" said Bart anxiously. "What if I'm stuck like this forever?"
"Now that would really bite," Homer remarked.
"That won't happen," said Marge with a smile. "Lisa likes being a girl."
Another knock on the door was heard. Marge opened it, and Lisa's friends Janey Hagstrom and Alison Taylor entered. "Oh, great," Bart grumbled. "Lisa's harpy friends."
"Lisa, I've got another anagram challenge for you," Alison greeted him.
"Anagram?" Bart mused. "Like, rearranging letters? Sure, I know how to do that."
"What can you make from Scott Bakula?" was Alison's challenge.
"Uh...uh..." Bart racked his brain for a minute. "Lacks a butt?"
"That doesn't have an 'o' in it," Alison pointed out.
"And it doesn't describe him very well," Janey added.
"You're just making up rules as you go along," Bart groused. "I don't want to play this stupid game."
"What's wrong?" Janey asked. "You seem depressed."
"Oh, it's nothing," answered Bart. "Girl problems, that's all."
"We're girls," said Alison. "You can tell us."
"Yeah, let's go up to your room," Janey suggested.
Sure, why not? thought Bart. Since I'm doomed to be a girl, I may as well learn their secrets.
Bart led Janey and Alison into Lisa's bedroom, and shut the door behind them. Janey gasped at the sight of six Malibu Stacy models on the shelf, in various stages of painting and dyeing. "Omigosh, what did you do to your Malibu Stacy dolls?"
"Uh, Bart did that," was Bart's reply.
"Is that why you're depressed?" asked Alison.
"No, it's something else."
"Did you and Martin break up?" Janey inquired.
Bart's eyes widened in horror.
TBC
