Bart had been in the hospital for three days, and they were awful.
The most dorkish of policemen asked him all these weird questions, and even the most painful one.
Where ya from, son? He asked.
Bart shifted in his bed, Springfield.
What state? Asked the man.
Look, who the hell cares! When am I going to get out of this rathole?
The policeman crossed his arms, Lookie here, Mr. Simpson. Around here we dont take kindly to people insulting us. Its just plain rude.
Bart sighed out loud.
The policeman went back to his flipbook.
Continuing on, shall we? Where ya headed to?
Bart shrugged, Anywhere.
The policeman laughed, Well, well; we have a vagabond here. Thats a first.
Bart grumbled something under his breath rhyming with bucking kick.