**Bart Simpson and the Civil War Album**
Prompt: Simpsons fanfiction after the county band he started with Milhouse and Nelson record their first album bart has the idea to do an album of civil war songs
The smell of freshly opened pizza boxes wafted in the air, mingling with the sound of guitars getting tuned and drums being banged on haphazardly. Bart, Milhouse, and Nelson were seated in Bart’s garage, a veritable shrine to their band “The Radicals.” After their first album had unexpectedly soared to local fame, excitement about their next project was reaching fever pitch.
“Okay, guys, I’ve got a brilliant idea for our next album!” Bart exclaimed, slumping back on a worn-out beanbag while strumming his guitar absentmindedly.
Milhouse, his mop of blue hair bobbing excitedly, looked up. “Is it about space aliens? I’m in!”
Bart shook his head. “No, even better. What do you think about… Civil War songs?”
There was a moment of silence as the phrase hung in the air, heavy like a leaden cannonball. Then Nelson, munching on a slice of pizza, nearly spat it out. “Civil War songs? Like, ‘Battle Hymn of the Republic’ and stuff? That’s lame!”
“Lame? Nelson, think about it! There’s cannon fire, drama, and rebellion! We can make it rock! Imagine ‘Dixie’ with electric guitars!” Bart’s eyes glimmered with mischief, envisioning a heavy metal version of the classic tune.
“How would we even make that cool? You know we’re not supposed to mess up history,” Milhouse added, a slight quiver in his voice.
“Aw, come on, Milhouse! If we can make our last album work, we can totally do this! Picture this: we travel back in time—”
“Wait, what? Like, a time machine?” Nelson interrupted, leaning forward with an ominous grin.
“No, not a time machine! Just hear me out. We write up our versions of all the famous Civil War songs and dress up in period costumes for the cover art. It could be the next big thing!”
After some back-and-forth debating, the trio eventually warmed to the idea. There was a certain charm, Bart thought, in twisting something old and dusty into something fresh. Their conversations then flowed like the Mississippi River, weaving in and out of playful banter and serious brainstorming.
As the sun dipped and the garage lights flickered on, their project began to take shape. They flipped through dusty encyclopedias and Wikipedia pages, gathering tidbits of history and lyrics to work with. Bart took the lead in writing lyrics that turned cannon fire into guitar riffs and Southern pride into lyrics that they could shout.
“Hey, maybe we could mix in some hip-hop!” Milhouse blurted out one day, waving his palms as if conducting an invisible orchestra. “Like a Civil War rap battle!”
Bart jumped on that idea. “Yes! We can write a track called ‘The Gettysburg Showdown!’”
They spent three weekends buried in the garage, working through the process of making the album. Each song came with its own surprises: from the melodic rendition of “When Johnny Comes Marching Home” to Nelson’s unexpected rap verses, which mostly consisted of shouting “Y’all gonna get wrecked!” It was chaotic, but it felt right.
Then came the day they had been waiting for—the recording session. With a borrowed recording device from Martin’s dad and a pile of snacks, the tiny garage morphed into a makeshift studio. Corded mics dangled like vines, and the crackle of excitement made every chord played feel alive.
They kicked off with their version of “Battle Hymn of the Republic,” now featuring a zany mix of electric guitar solos and drummer Nelson smashing pots for the illusion of cannon blasts.
“Glory, glory, hallelujah! His truth is marching home—”
“Great! Now let’s add some heavy riffs here!” Bart shouted between chorus lines, fingers dancing fervently across the strings.
As they continued recording, Milhouse’s nerves morphed into laughter—a punchline that rippled through the garage. Nelson cracked a joke about Union soldiers preferring pizza over hardtack, and Bart, ever the prankster, responded by wearing a makeshift captain's hat he found in a box, striking poses as if addressing his troops.
Their collective energy kept escalating, and before long, they’d created something fun and compelling. Each song told a story, both humorous and heartfelt, while they took subtle jabs at dry history lessons they’d all suffered through in school.
One night, huddled around a lamp, they finalized the cover art. Drawing inspiration from old war imagery, they created a surreal scene featuring themselves as three cartoonish young generals standing proudly with guitars slung over their shoulders, cannons smoking in the background.
Weeks later, with the album completed, they decided to host a release party at the Android’s Dungeon comic store. The owner, knowing how rare The Radicals' music had become, excitedly agreed, envisioning a whirlwind of laughter and nostalgia.
As the sun set on the day of the event, anticipation mixed with the tangy scent of pizza once again. They were joined by friends, family, and a few curious onlookers, all buzzing with excitement for the album titled, “The Radicals Present: Civil War Shenanigans!”
By the end of the night, they would witness many laughs, cheer, and even one bizarre interpretative dance of a Civil War battle inspired by the music played. People relived their own childhoods, recalling the power of friendship that came from creating something ridiculous.
And with each distorted guitar riff echoing off the walls, Bart realized that this project, born from an outrageous idea, wrapped them in its own unique way—through history, unity, and unmistakable laughter. Before capping off the night with a loud “Battle Hymn”—turned punk rock anthem of glory—he knew they had created something that mattered.
As the crowd cheered, he exchanged a glance with Milhouse and Nelson. They might have been outsiders in the grand scheme of schoolyard politics and history projects, but as a band, they had truly made their mark. In the end, the Civil War may have shaped a nation, but Bart, Milhouse, and Nelson had channeled that spirit into their own brand of creativity and mirth, reminding everyone that even history can rock!
