Lisa: [writing a letter] "Dear Mom, I no longer fear Hell, because I've been to Kamp Krusty. Our nature hikes have become grim death marches. Our arts and crafts hut is, in truth, a Dickensian workhouse. Bart makes it through the day clinging to his hope that Krusty the Klown will come. But I am far more pessimistic. I am not even sure if this letter will reach you, as the normal lines of communication have been cut. So I close by saying, SAVE US! SAVE US NOW! Bart and Lisa."
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