As Lisa returned to Mr. Ratburn's classroom, she found Binky doodling on the chalkboard. "Good news, Bart," he greeted her.
"I'm not Bart," she responded.
"That's the good news," said Binky, pounding a fist into his palm.
Lisa sighed bitterly. "Stupid bully. Do you really think violence will set things right between you and Bart?"
"I dunno," said Binky, going back to his sketching.
Lisa glanced over the chalk picture he had made. "That's a very good drawing of a boa constrictor swallowing an elephant," she remarked.
"Naw, it's just a hat," said Binky.
"Still, it's very nice," said Lisa. "Reminds me of Andy Warhol."
"Oh, does he wear a hat like this?"
"No, he was a pop artist."
"Hmm…pop artist…" Binky imagined himself dipping a paintbrush into a bottle of Sierra Mist, then applying it to a canvas.
"You should try being an artist instead of a bully," Lisa suggested.
"Why can't I be both?" said Binky. "I can have two jobs, like my dad."
While Lisa struggled to think of a comeback, Binky put his hands on his hips and glared down at her.
"If you're trying to talk me out of fighting your brother, you can forget it," he said sternly. "I live my life by one simple rule—anyone who messes with me gets clobbered. Without that rule, I'd be just like George over there." He stuck his thumb toward the moose boy.
"D-don't hurt me," George pleaded nervously.
"But don't you think that's a bit…inequitable?" said Lisa. "Shouldn't the punishment fit the crime? The Bible says, 'An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.' All he did was pull down your pants. You still have all your teeth and both your eyes. But if you fight him, you might knock out his teeth, or put out his eye. That wouldn't be fair, at least according to the Judeo-Christian ethic with which I was raised."
"Sit down, children," said Mr. Ratburn. "It's time for class to begin."
"We'll talk again after the fight," Binky said to Lisa.
Afternoon recess arrived at the usual time. Dozens of schoolchildren gathered in front of the trailer, having been informed of an imminent brawl. Lisa, worried for her brother's health but unable to look away, watched as Bart and Binky stepped onto a patch of dirt. Binky pushed up his sleeves while Bart strained to keep up a fearless appearance. Sweat dripped from his every pore.
"Binky! Binky!" cheered the Tough Customers.
"Bart! Bart! Bart!" chanted Francine, Sue Ellen, and Fern. "You can do it, Bart! Punch him in the heart! Rip his butt apart!"
Bart swallowed. "Uh, I'm ready whenever you are, man," he said in a slightly quivering voice.
Binky, instead of attacking his foe, turned to Lisa and smiled. "I thought about what you said. You're right, it wouldn't be fair to beat him up. So I'll do the same thing to him that he did to me."
Bart, expecting certain death, was surprised to see Binky lunging at him, grabbing his belt, and yanking downward. His shorts landed in the dirt around his feet.
The assembled kids laughed half-heartedly. They observed nothing remarkable about Bart's plain white underwear.
"Like what you see?" said Bart to the crowd. "Wanna see more?"
The students, unsure of how to respond, became silent.
Bart bent over, pulled down his underpants, and waved his naked posterior at them. Gasps and cries of horror rose from the crowd. Binky clenched his fists and scowled.
"If anyone wants to kick my butt, you got a clean target," said Bart jokingly.
He couldn't have chosen poorer words.
"Binky, no!" cried Lisa as the furious bulldog boy reared back his foot.
SMACK
Bart lay face-first in the grass, about two yards separating him from his shorts.
The Tough Customers yowled and applauded while several of the girls, including Lisa and Prunella, rushed to aid the fallen boy.
"Bart, are you okay?" asked Lisa.
"Uuurgh," Bart moaned. "He broke my butt."
"I hope he hasn't suffered brain damage," quipped Prunella.
"You should've pretended to be embarrassed," Lisa told her brother.
"I have no shame," said Bart weakly. "You know that, Lis."
"Now everybody knows that," said Lisa, looking over at the dispersing crowd.
She brought Bart his shorts, helped him to stand, and watched him stagger away painfully. Turning to Prunella, she remarked, "I'm surprised at how the kids reacted. It's like none of them has ever seen a butt before."
"None of them has seen a butt without a tail before," said Prunella.
"We now return to Redneck Scooby-Doo!"
On the TV screen, Scooby and Shaggy were hunting in the forest when an eerie white figure appeared before them. "Look, Scooby!" exclaimed Shaggy. "It's a ghost!"
While Homer watched and popped snacks into his mouth, Shaggy raised his rifle and fired three rounds into the apparition, which fell to the ground.
"Zoinks!" said Shaggy as he yanked off the sheet. "This ain't no ghost. It's some guy in a costume!"
"Homer!" exclaimed Marge. "Stop eating the laxatives!"
"But they're so full of chocolatey goodness," Homer whined. "Look, it says so on the package."
"Give me that!" said Marge, snatching the box from his hand.
"But there's nothing else good to eat," Homer lamented.
"The kids will be back any minute now," said Marge. "Then we'll have dinner."
Bart and Lisa charged through the front door about thirty seconds later, trailed by a pair of aardvark kids. A large, friendly greyhound welcomed them with yips and licks.
"What a cool dog," said Arthur. "What's his name?"
"Santa's Little Helper," replied Bart.
"More like Santa's Big Helper," Arthur joked.
"A kitty!" cried D.W., crouching down to embrace the black cat that had approached her.
"That's Snowball II," said Lisa.
"I had a pet snowball once," said D.W. "Arthur stole it."
"Did not!" Arthur protested.
Marge smiled with delight upon seeing the visitors. "So these are your new friends from school," she gushed.
"Arthur's in my class," Lisa told her. "And this is his little sister, D.W."
"Your hair is humongous," D.W. commented.
"Where's Homer?" asked Bart.
"He's in the bathroom," Marge replied. Turning to the little aardvark girl, she asked, "What does D.W. stand for?"
"I don't like to talk about it," answered D.W. as she stroked Snowball's fur.
"Come upstairs, and I'll show you some pictures from our trip to China," said Lisa to her new classmate.
While Arthur followed her to the second floor, Homer emerged from the bathroom, marched toward the couch, and tripped over an unexpected obstacle. "D'oh!" he exclaimed while plummeting to the floor.
"Sorry," said D.W.
"Who put that little girl there?" groused Homer as he picked himself up.
"Her name's D.W.," said Bart.
"Aren't you gonna ask me what it stands for?" said D.W., gazing curiously into Homer's eyes.
"No," said Homer with a wave of his hand. "If it was important, you'd tell me."
"That's right," said Bart.
"I don't know what PMS stands for either," Homer went on. "But if I was supposed to care, they'd tell me."
"Hrrrmm," grumbled his wife.
"You have a dog and a cat," D.W. marveled. "I didn't know that was possible."
"As soon as Lisa and Arthur are finished, we'll eat," said Marge. "There's plenty of spinach lasagna for everyone."
"Eww!" exclaimed D.W. in disgust. "I hate spinach!"
"Spinach gives you strong muscles and bones," said Marge with a grin. "And humongous hair."
"Spinach was put here by the devil to torment us," said D.W. bitterly.
"So what else has the church been keeping from us?" Bart asked her.
"Don't start dinner yet," said Homer, hurrying away. "I gotta use the bathroom."
In her bedroom, Lisa was showing Arthur the last of the photographs she had taken while in China. "And this is Auntie Selma with her new baby, Ling," she narrated.
"That's so neat," said Arthur. "What other countries have you been to?"
"Oh, Japan, Brazil, Australia," Lisa answered. "Next season we're going to Italy."
"You should bring these pictures to class," Arthur suggested. "Show and Tell has been kinda boring ever since Sue Ellen stopped talking."
"I'll do that," said Lisa.
"You're pretty cool for a funny-looking kid," said Arthur. "I think we'll like having you in our class."
"I think I'll like being in your class," said Lisa wistfully. "You're a fun bunch. Who knows what adventures we'll have?"
(The author knows…)
THE END