Bart twisted in his dad's arms. "Mom, no! What are you doing?!" He thrashed as hard as he could but that was only enough to turn him away so that his and Homer's backs were now facing Lisa."I'm sorry Bart but this is for your own good, you need to learn to respect the other people living in this house and that your actions have consequences. You wanted your hat cleaned and you spoiled a whole load of laundry to do it and put your father at risk of being committed again! So, since you cared so much about your hat and nothing else that's all you get to wear to school today." Marge looked at her boy with cold, serious eyes as she said this and grabbed the waistband of her young boy's boxers.Bart looked down in terror, his face was bright red and he was working up a light sweat from struggling. He knew there was nothing he could do and in one efficient motion, like an executioner swinging an axe, Marge yanked the boys underwear clean off of him, letting a bundled pair of tube socks drop. With the assistance of the Doctor, Lindsay rolled me onto the bottom of the trolley and secured me in place with three straps. They then piled towels on top of me to disguise my presence.I could see nothing from beneath the towels, though I wasn't in complete darkness. I barely had a moment to register this before the trolley started moving.I could sense that I was wheeled through several doors, and then travelled for some time. There was a period that I recognised as being in a lift. After that I think I moved only a few dozen meters further.The trolley stopped and I could hear the click of Lindsay's shoes moving away, followed by the sound of a door. I realised I was alone. I struggled to free myself from the trolley but it was hopeless: I couldn't squirm forward or backwards out of the straps, and they showed no sign of breaking.My efforts did little but succeed in raising a sweat and making me feel desperately short of air. I felt so weak. The realisation that I couldn't escape.
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