The Simpsons: Bart

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***

Whether it was because of my trusty mask or all the alcohol that probably outweighed the blood inside Isabella, my high school friend agreed to come to my place.

- И... Eek. To-- Eek. Don't do anything to me. Eek. Nothing dirty. Eek. Understand me. Eek?

And with those words, Isabella collapsed headfirst into my crotch.

- Just bear with me, you two! - the driver was outraged while I--

- Awwwch. - suffered the consequences of this foreplay. And why wasn't there a spot of spot hitting my balls today? I could have had a shell now then....

.....

Staining my jeans in spit.... And no, not because of what many might have thought, and what I might have rejoiced in. Isabella refused to wake up no matter how much I shook her.

- Just stand upright, please.

I ended up having to carry her almost in my arms. And yes, carrying an unconscious body is not easy.

And if it seemed difficult, then trying to find the keys and then open the flat with a drunk girl in your arms is even more difficult. For even placed against the wall, Isabella was constantly lurching.

And I won't deny that a couple of times I couldn't react in time. So, yes, in addition to the saliva on my jeans, Isabella now has bruises on her knees....

- And why did you have to get like this now instead of the kilometres we'd walked?

Anyway, having managed the door, lifting Isabella off the ground. We ended up inside, where without any thoughts in my head about anything else, without even turning on the lights, I carried my ex-girlfriend to the bed.

- Fuhhhhhh...

And I fell down beside her, coping with the day's fatigue and the alcohol that had stirred up inside.

- ...It's okay to leave her like that, isn't it?

Looking at the quiet sop.

- GRRRRRRRRR!

As I looked at Isabella, I thought about whether it was okay to leave her in a dress and a kind of jacket on her shoulders, whatever it was called?

- ...Well, it's her own fault.

But in the end, I decided that upon waking, Isabella would be more uncomfortable being undressed in the bed of a guy she didn't know than in a wrinkled dress. And since that's my decision, I can safely...

- Hrr-.

Isabella's snoring was suddenly interrupted. Opening my eyes, I met Isabella's glazed gaze. Only in my head the gears of fright at the possible hypotheses in the head of the Latina, as that:

- Brrrrr! - clutched at her sharply swollen mouth.

- Not on the bed! - And along with her grip, my desire to sleep abruptly vanished.

.....

I've never been so happy to live in a fourteen square metre flat.....

- Grrrr!

Literally as soon as I lifted the lid, an unaccustomed disgusting stream flew inside the white mate.

- Fucking hell!

And if drinks, and various cocktails do not have a specific odour, then their mixture, at least at the output, stinks like an alcoholic tincture.... And where does all that lime and cola go?

- Grrrrr!...

I even had to use the air freshener I bought after the taco incident from the local train station..... I think the smell was better back then?

Anyway, the air freshener did the trick. Here, I have to spray it directly into my nostrils to smell the difference.

- Grrrrr!

Of course, I could have walked away and left Isabella to deal with the effects of teenage alcoholism on her own. But aside from holding her hair back, I'm a little worried about how I'll be able to explain the girl drowning in her toilet in case they're not the only ones reaching for the water.

- Grrrrr!...

And all the prerequisites are there.... Or at least that the water will rise up to Isabella herself due to the alcohol.

- GRRRRRRR!

- Please, at least keep the gear down!

.....

After torturing Isabella for a few hours. I decided for myself that I would never film drunk girls in clubs. It's one thing to torture herself by holding her hair over a white mate, but what if she got seasick while riding?

- Brrr. - I can't even think about it.

Judging by the nearly full can of freshener that had run out before today, a simple change of sheets might not have done the trick.

- GRRRRRRRRRR!

- Oh, for fuck's sake!

Just when Isabella was done with her perversions on my toilet, she's on it.... Or was it in it? So, with her forehead resting on the seat, Isabella fell asleep just like that. At least I was still holding her by the hair, otherwise she'd have been drowned.

- Is this how you fuck women in clubs? What do the rest of us get out of it? - I was tired and had no choice but to make a joke about what was going on. After all, next...

It was time to carry Isabella back to bed. Have I told you how grateful and happy I am about my rented fourteen squares?

- I also have a kitchen.

I turned round, took two steps, and threw Isabella on the bed.

I lay down carefully, taking care not to awaken the alco-dragon sleeping in Isabella's stomach.

.....

Perhaps it was the effects of the alcohol, or maybe it was the fatigue, but surprisingly, sleeping in the same bed with Isabella was quite comfortable. Though just yesterday, I never thought I'd be sharing a bed with anyone....

It might sound strange, but after everything that had happened, I didn't feel comfortable sharing a bed with anyone. Even with Gina, I rarely slept together. Most of the time we'd just have sex at her place and then I'd go to sleep at my place or....

It was a peculiarity of the brothel that 'people' never sleep there, although they sleep there all the time. But the last ones are the ones who overdose or have nowhere to go.

Probably because of the lack of intimacy and the large number of people, but I could also sleep peacefully in the brothel. Much more peaceful than at home with my family, where I could still hear the sounds of other people. How were these sounds different from the sounds of the brothel? I don't know. But a rustle in my parents' or sisters' room disturbed my sleep much more than the screams of junkies.

Maybe it's because Isabella's so drunk that she doesn't know who's really behind the El Barto mask. That's probably why I feel so safe.

I don't even want to think about what her reaction would be if she knew her rapist classmate had dragged her into his bed.

...Maybe if I do well in Mexico, I'll be invited to Japan? That would be nice.

...I'd move there right away.....

... I'd move far away from Springfield.

away from the town where the leader of all bastards was born.

Bart Simpson.

.....

As I do when I dream, I woke up feeling more depressed and exhausted than I had before I went to bed. Which might even be called an accomplishment, considering all of yesterday's Isabella ...

Speaking of which:

- Where is she?

Isabella wasn't in bed. Turning my head, I found neither her nor the note that a serious girl like Isabella would definitely have left behind.... Though would a serious girl get that drunk?

Somehow I'm starting to worry about Lisa, who's going to university next year.

- I never thought it was possible to lose something in my flat... much less a person. - what a mysterious 14 squares. Always revealing new sides.

- So you sleep in a mask, huh?

While I was having strange thoughts about being content with little, suddenly Isabella came out of the bathtub wearing my T-shirt and a towel over her hair....

- At least you're not showering in it?

...

- Hey, are you listening to me? - Isabella turned to me with a kind of resentment.

Which wasn't a fair thing to take offence at. Especially with those beautiful bronze legs.

- Aren't you going to shower?

Yeah, I need to get in there, urgently.

- I left hot water for you, too.

- You shouldn't have.

- А?..

- ...No, I'm all for healthy living, I like to harden myself. - I said, crumpling the blanket accidentally in the groin area.

- What's in the fridge?

...Which doesn't help much, after Isabella bent over to look in my one and a half metre fridge.

-After fifteen minutes of cold showers-

- I've heard that blokes are usually quick to wash themselves.

Oh, great, Isabella's still here. And still no trousers. I wasted the water.

- Erm. Breakfast? - I somewhat awkwardly offered her.

Spermotoxicosis was one of the reasons for my awkwardness, but not the main one. During our time together, Isabella had never struck me as someone who spoke so freely to strangers, much less walked around their flat without trousers.

- So you're actually showering in a mask? - Isabella asked me while I was smashing eggs in a frying pan.

- I took it off before I turned on the water. - to which I responded with a lie. For my brain kept throwing in scenarios from porn games and fanfics where Isabella could have walked in on me in the shower and....

Good thing the hob is facing the table.

- Haa... - Isabella sighed heavily at the scrambling of the eggs I'd learnt over the year to fry without the shells. - I was... Something weird last night... Did you do? Or did you say something?

- I don't think so. - given that I didn't understand much of the mix of Argentine-accented Spanish and drunken muttering, I'm not sure I can answer that question honestly.

- Hmm? - Isabella thought for a moment. Probably trying to remember yesterday's events. - Hey, has your English always been this good?

- Э? I-I don't get it, Si?

- The only person who could try to get away with such a dumb move is-- Bart? Is that you?