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Robert Underdunk Terwilligent, Aka Sideshow Bob. Multiple time attempted murderer. Former Mayor of Springfield. Father, Husband, Son, Brother. Lighthouse owner. Scientist. Actor, Entertainer, Professional Clown. And so many other things that one can hardly keep track of it all. Especially given the lack of continuity. Over these many years, he has seeked and continuously failed to gain revenge on Bart Simpson. A child... Does nobody else find that a little white van ish? That this grown man has spent a good while fallowing around a little boy. Seriously, I'd say that Krusty ruined his life and career more than Bart.
Oh sure, he's only trying to murder the boy. That's not much better! Only trying to murder... He's turned down killing the kid like 7 times now! He sang a parody of a love song about ultimately not being able to kill the kiddo!! Does a musical number mean nothing to you?! Anyway, here's the story.
The room was dark and cold. The window had been opened. Bart went to close it. Then someone else did. "Hello Bart." Sideshow Bob greeted. The boy scrambled back to his bed in fear. Bart Simpson yelled, "AHH! Sideshow Bob!!" Even in the darkness the young boy could see a sinster grin. Bob walked forward, pulling out a knife. "Oh Bartholomew. How I've longed to watch you spend your very last moments drowning in your own bloody vomit." The man darkly chuckled. The little boy dashed to the door, but he tripped and looked down his leg to find a hand around his ankle.
"Don't bother screaming for Mommy and Daddy, they won't hear you. Nobody can." The killer explained. Bart found that to be oddly enough a good summary of his entire experience with Bob. Nobody will believe him that something is wrong and something bad will happen. Bob lifted the boy by his ankle and put him level to his own eyes. The knife was pressed against the kid's neck. The metal was cold. Bart Simpson closed his eyes but opened them after he felt the knife removed. The murderer's eyes changed along with his smile. Something all together more twisted and sickening. Something that creepy uncle gives when nobody is looking and you can't convince your parents of.
The little boy whimpered in terror as his stomach twisted into horrible knots. The former clown flopped the boy onto the bed, laughing lowely to himself. Bart went to try to escape again but was quickly pinned to the bed. "You know. It's kinda become my whole purpose in life to kill you, Bartholomew. I don't kill I could really do it without basically ending anything worth living for." Robert babbled, "I think I've crossed a serious line between bloodlust and lust." The oldest Simpson child was too scared to speak but struggled as best he could even if it was fruitless.
"I think I've gotten more than use of the look of your face." The grown man gave a nearly sing songy tone. Oh no. The kiddo went wide eyed and still as he completely froze. There had always been that feeling in the background. That dread of something else behind it all. How he said he loved children when he took over Krusty's show. How being around him felt. How desperately powerless Bart felt every single time nobody believed him when people let Sideshow Bob out. Bart had always assumed it was due to the framing of his hero and multiple time attempted murder. It was, but only partly. There was another factor.
The kiddie felt like he was about to cry as his eyes met the madman's. A hand was put to his face. All he could feel was confused and scared and weird all over. So weird. Like gross and vomit inducing and something he couldn't understand. The hand grabbed his face and forced it to look into the face, into the eyes. The something else feeling grew like cancer, slowly but with terrible results. Another hand felt along his body. Bart tried to move his limbs again to find those thin, long, legs holding all four down. Fingers weaved between hair.
Have I made my point yet? Do you get it now?! Does anyone have any questions!?!
Whelp, I feel wrong. Stopping here to wonder what the ever living F is wrong with me.
Bart Simpson awoke from his nightmare. It was just a nightmare. Not the first time he had a nightmare about Robert Terwilligent either. Bart hopped out of bed, glad it was only a dream. Then the door closed. "Hello Bart."
The End.
You sickos.