“Bart!” Lisa shouted from downstairs, clutching her clipboard like it was a lifeline. “I need your help! The banner is falling, the balloons are sad, and I can’t run a whole birthday party by myself!”

She waited.

Nothing but the faint thump of whatever Bart was blasting through his headphones.

“Bart Simpson!” she tried again, louder. “If you can hear me—which you should—this is an official birthday emergency!”