Bart, Lisa, and Jessica ran the six blocks to the Frink house without stopping. They crossed the police line to find Chief Wiggum and the robot Gladys Frink inside. "You kids shouldn't be here," the chief warned them. "This is a crime scene."

"But Professor Frink switched our bodies before he was killed," Bart-in-Lisa explained.

"Can you switch us back, Mrs. Frink?" asked Lisa-in-Bart.

"Affirmative," the she-robot replied. "Follow me."

While Chief Wiggum poked about the house in search of clues, Mrs. Frink led Bart, Lisa, and Jessica to the laboratory. Soon they were standing before the very device that the late Professor Frink had used to switch Bart and Lisa.

"That is so cool," Jessica marveled. "Maybe I can use it to get into the body of someone who still has a perfect reputation."

"Please be seated," said Mrs. Frink, motioning with her servo-hand toward the chairs with attached helmets. Bart immediately sat down, and the robot fastened the straps and shackles over his body. Bart, however, stood motionlessly, uncertainty filling his expression.

"What are you waiting for, Bart?" Lisa inquired of him.

"Just a minute," said Bart anxiously. "I forgot something."

He hurried out of the laboratory while Mrs. Frink lowered the electronic helmet over Lisa's head. "You will feel no pain," the mechanical woman assured her.

Jessica approached the empty seat next to Lisa. "I've got an idea," she said jokingly. "Let's you and I switch until Lisa comes back."

"Trust me, Jessica," said Lisa. "Being a boy is overrated."

Suddenly, in the distance, Mrs. Frink, Lisa, and Jessica heard Chief Wiggum's alarmed voice. "Hey, give that back! Where are you going with that?"

This was followed by rapid footsteps that drew nearer and nearer--and then Bart appeared, clutching a revolver in his hand, a dazed look on his face.

Lisa gasped in horror and struggled vainly against her restraints. Mrs. Frink and Jessica froze. Chief Wiggum charged Bart-in-Lisa from behind, but not quickly enough to stop him from aiming the gun at the mind-transfer console...and firing three shots.

Electrical sparks shot from the damaged console as it burst into flames.

"Lisa, stop!" cried Jessica. The armed girl's response was to aim the revolver at her and pull the trigger.

"Jessica! No!" screamed Lisa.

Jessica Lovejoy, pierced by a bullet, fell helplessly onto her back and became motionless.

Bart's last act before Chief Wiggum pounced on him was to point the gun at Lisa. He tried to fire, but nothing happened--the revolver was empty.

While Mrs. Frink rushed to Jessica's side, the chief slapped handcuffs on Bart, and the ruined mind-transfer console made sizzling noises, Lisa could only gape in disbelief at the horrible scene.

"Analyzing injury," said Mrs. Frink as she looked over Jessica's wound. "Prognosis: non-fatal. Hospitalization required."

Having retrieved his revolver and secured Bart, Chief Wiggum dragged her in front of Lisa's chair and started to loosen her restraints with one hand. "Why, Bart? Why?" demanded Lisa in a voice filled with despair.

"Not Bart," the girl muttered weakly. "Lisa."

Before long Bart had been taken to the police station for interrogation. Among those present were Homer, Marge, Bart, Chief Wiggum, and noted psychologist Dr. Marvin Monroe.

"I don't remember what happened," sobbed the frightened, cuffed Bart as the chief questioned him. "I don't remember shooting anybody."

"But we all saw you do it," Wiggum insisted. "You shot Professor Frink's machine. You shot Jessica Lovejoy."

"Jessica? Is she all right?"

"She's being treated in the hospital. She'll pull through."

Dr. Monroe pulled out a notepad and pen, and addressed Bart. "Why don't you start by telling us your name? Your real name?"

"I...I'm Bart Simpson," Bart answered nervously. "I'm in my sister's body."

"Interesting," Dr. Monroe mused. "Do you want to return to your own body?"

"Yes," Bart lamented, "but I can't. The machine was destroyed."

"Wrong," said the doctor. "The machine is still intact, and when we're finished here, were going to put both of you back in your rightful bodies."

To everyone's astonishment, the news that should have delighted Bart instead caused his face to erupt in terror. "No! No!" he pleaded desperately. "I don't want to be a boy!"

"Wha...I don't understand..." Bart stammered.

Dr. Monroe continued to take notes. "Interesting. Now, why don't you start by telling us your name? Your real name?"

Bart's, or rather Lisa's, voice took on a childish tone. "My name is Lisa Simpson."

"But...but I'm Lisa!" Lisa insisted loudly.

"Quiet!" Dr. Monroe snapped at her. Turning to Bart, he asked, "Lisa, did you kill Professor John Frink?"

"Yes," Bart-in-Lisa answered innocently. "While Grandpa was asleep, I stole Mom's gun and sneaked out of the house."

Homer shot Marge a dirty look.

"Why did you kill him?" the doctor asked.

"Because he was going to make me a boy."

"Did you set your new clothes on fire?" Marge inquired.

"Yes," replied Bart-in-Lisa. "I hated them. They made me look like a boy. They...they were his idea."

"Whose idea?" asked Dr. Monroe.

"Bart's idea." Bart-in-Lisa narrowed her eyes and grimaced as if suffering from a headache. "He's in my head. He wants to make me a boy. I wish he would go away!"

"Lisa, do you like Malibu Stacy dolls?" asked Dr. Monroe.

"Yes, I love them. But he hates them. He paints their faces and dyes their hair weird colors."

"And do you like to wear pretty dresses?"

"Yes, I wear dresses every day. But he hates dresses. He wants to make me wear pants, like a boy."

Dr. Monroe glanced momentarily over the notes he had written. "Lisa, can you name the Presidents of the United States in chronological order?"

"Of course I can."

"Then let's hear them."

Bart-in-Lisa appeared to be straining her memory. "Uh...Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln, Roosevelt..."

"That's not right," said Lisa. "Not even close."

"Lisa, what's the capital of California?" Dr. Monroe quizzed the girl.

"Uh...Hollywood?"

"Wrong again," said Lisa.

"Lisa, tell me about how you got your saxophone," was the doctor's next question.

"Um...uh...I don't remember," Bart-in-Lisa replied. "But I play it all the time, and I annoy Bart."

"Interesting." Dr. Monroe jotted down a few more notes. "Lisa, how do you know you're really Lisa Simpson?"

"Because I look like her."

"I see." The doctor rubbed his unshaven chin. "Lisa, when I told you that the body-switching machine was still intact, that was a lie. It's completely demolished. You're in no danger of ever becoming a boy."

Bart-in-Lisa's expression became more relaxed.

"Can I talk to Bart now?" asked Dr. Monroe.

Bart shook his head in confusion. "Huh? What happened?"

"Bart, what's the capital of California?" the doctor inquired.

"Uh...Hollywood?"

Dr. Monroe closed his notepad. "What does it mean, doctor?" Marge asked him.

"At this point all I can do is theorize," he replied. "It seems that when Bart's personality was transferred into Lisa's body, the shock was so great that it split in two. One personality was his own, and the other assumed it was Lisa because that's who it saw when it looked in the mirror. But the Lisa personality only has Bart's perceptions of Lisa to draw on, so she's incomplete. She knows she's a girl, so she doesn't want to be a boy. She knows she can list the Presidents, but she can't actually do it. She knows she plays the saxophone, but she can't remember how she got her instrument. She knows she likes to wear dresses and hates to wear pants. In essence, you could call the two personalities 'Bart who thinks he's Bart' and 'Bart who thinks he's Lisa'. And Bart's constant repression of the femaleness of his new body only exacerbated the conflict between the two, until it exploded into violence."

"So what happens to her now?" asked Homer.

"She'll have to be institutionalized, naturally. She's dangerously schizophrenic."

"Oh, my poor baby!" Marge sobbed.

"If you decide to seek reparations, I know a good lawyer," said the doctor. "His name's Lionel Hutz."

Chief Wiggum nodded toward Eddie and Lou, who stood nearby. "Take her away, boys."

The two cops led Bart-in-Lisa out of the room, while Homer, Marge, and Lisa left through another exit, saddened by Bart's tragic fate.

"I hope to God they find a way to cure her," Marge mourned.

"So do I," said Lisa-in-Bart sadly. "But I'll never be cured. I'll be a boy until I die."

"I know how you feel, Lisa honey," said Homer comfortingly. "I'll do everything I can to make it easy for you."

"Really?" said Lisa hopefully.

"Really," said Homer. "Now come on, boy."

An hour later, Lisa Simpson's body was locked inside of a padded cell at the Springfield Mental Hospital. She sat down on a wooden chair, glanced about at the bare walls, and grinned sinisterly.

They think I'm dangerous, she mused. Why, I wouldn't even hurt a fly!

THE END