**Bart Simpson: The Casablanca Capers**

Prompt: Simpsons fanfiction bart is cast as Rick in his schools production of casebalanca

Bart Simpson leaned back against the cold, metal bleachers of Springfield Elementary’s gymnasium, arms crossed and a devil-may-care smile plastered on his face. The sun streamed through the tall windows, illuminating the chaos of the school’s annual production auditions. This year, the play was none other than “Casablanca,” and Bart had a plan. Outside the gym, a line of hopeful students snaked around the corner. Some whispered excitedly about who would be cast as the lead, Rick Blaine. Bart, however, had different ideas. He had overheard Principal Skinner—clad in a tweed suit far too stuffy for the occasion—announce that the part was open. An insatiable urge gripped him. This was his moment! When the auditions began, Bart sauntered to the front with the confidence of a rock star stepping onto a stage. “I’m here to audition for Rick Blaine. You know, the dashing hero!” he declared, embellishing the role with a cocky grin. The auditorium was filled with chaotic energy, but all eyes turned to Bart. His classmates, stunned into silence, had never seen him so serious. Bart’s friend, Milhouse, suddenly spoke up. “But Bart, Rick Blaine is supposed to be, like, suave and sophisticated. You’re, uh, you’ve never been either of those things!” Bart turned to Milhouse, the grin unfaltering. “And when has that ever stopped me?” he shot back. He focused on the stage, ready to tap into his inner charisma. “Here’s looking at you, kid,” he murmured melodramatically, a twist of his lips enhancing the moment. As the auditions unfolded, students recited lines with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Lisa made a strong case for Ilsa, portraying a tragic heroine with undeniable elegance. Ralph Wiggum, in a confused but endearing manner, flitted around as a lesser character, while even Nelson attempted a brief but witty take as Captain Renault. But Bart had a distinctive knack for drawing attention to himself, and soon enough, all the eyes returned to the chaos that was his audition. “Let’s take it from the top!” Principal Skinner's voice cut through the air, but Bart was more interested in goofing off. He imitated various absurd scenes, from dramatically tossing a fake cigarette in the air to spinning around on the stage in mock despair. The audience, captivated and bemused, roared with laughter. Without intending to, Bart was stealing the show. When the announcements finally rolled around, Bart waited with a mix of anticipation and fear. He had completely butchered the character, yet a part of him secretly hoped for the title of Rick Blaine. A chorus of gasps filled the air as Skinner’s serious voice broke the tension. “And the role of Rick Blaine goes to… Bart Simpson!” The gym erupted into applause and laughter, with students slapping Bart on the back and cheering him on. He basked in their adulation, a bright smirk on his face. But as the laughter faded into congratulations, a sense of dread settled in. Surely they didn't think he could pull this off! Weeks passed in a blur of rehearsals. Bart fought to grasp the complexities of Rick Blaine, a character far removed from his own reckless persona. He spent his nights watching “Casablanca,” trying to soak in the sophistication that Rick commanded effortlessly. But between the antics of Homer's never-ending schemes at home and Marge’s relentless nagging about his grades, Bart found himself juggling more than he expected. During rehearsals, he encountered Lisa, who was coming into her own as Ilsa. “You know, Bart, if you keep flubbing your lines, the entire production will be a disaster,” she warned gently one afternoon, her brow creased in concern. “It’s not a disaster; it’s a comedy!” Bart exclaimed, leaning back on a prop table in mock nonchalance. “Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? It’s not like I’m saving the world here.” Lisa rolled her eyes. “You’re undoubtedly ruining the classic that is Casablanca!” Yet, under the surface, Bart felt something stirring. As rehearsals continued, he began not just to mimic Rick but to channel him. He could almost hear Rick’s cool, composed voice guiding him. If he were truly to embody the character, he had to connect with the character’s emotions, his heartbreak, and his relentless spirit. He wasn’t just playing a part; he was wearing the weight of love lost. Performance night arrived, filled with an electric buzz of excitement. Dressed in a trench coat a few sizes too big, Bart took a deep breath before stepping backstage. He spotted Milhouse, nervously adjusting his costume. “Are you ready, Rick?” Milhouse squeaked, his eyes wide. “Of course! This is going to be epic!” Bart shot back, his confidence returning just as the stage manager called for the cast. As the curtains lifted, the awe-inspiring glow of the stage lights descended upon Bart. The anchored emotions began to drown him. He stepped forward into the dimly lit set, feeling for the first time the weight of the moment. Under the gaze of the audience, Bart delivered lines he had once taken lightly but now wrapped in gravity. “We’ll always have Paris,” he uttered, each word a bittersweet echo of something deeper. Schoolmates, teachers, and even his family in the crowd fell silent, captive to his performance. Lisa’s hopeful smile shimmered against the backdrop of stage lights, fueling his resolve. By the end of the play, Bart had poured all his mischief into bringing Rick to life—both the confident scoundrel and the tortured soul. The audience erupted in applause at the final bow, and for the first time, Bart felt genuine pride. Lisa rushed to his side, embracing him. “You did it, Bart! I knew you could be great.” Bart grinned, brushing aside the attention like a true rebel. “Yeah, well, don’t tell Skinner. I want to keep my reputation intact!” Together, they basked in the moment—a classic Bart Simpson moment that transformed not just the play, but the boy himself.