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Line 99: | Line 99: | ||
{{ScriptScene|Rats scurry near the TV.}} |
{{ScriptScene|Rats scurry near the TV.}} |
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{{ScriptDialog|Kyle|Oh my God. This is like a third-world country.}} |
{{ScriptDialog|Kyle|Oh my God. This is like a third-world country.}} |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Mrs. McCormick|''[Now finished setting table.]'' Throw your sleeping bags in Kenny's room and then come grab some dinner.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Cartman|Oh, good. I'm starving.}} |
||
− | !Mrs. McCormick: |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|The boys are seated, as are Kenny's parents. Kenny's older brother comes to table. All there is to eat is a plate of 5 or 6 frozen waffles and a toaster to toast them in. The boys can only wonder.}} |
||
− | |''[now finished setting table]'' Throw your sleeping bags in Kenny's room and then come grab some dinner. |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Mrs. McCormick|Let's say grace.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|The boys put their hands together.}} |
||
− | !Cartman: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Stuart|Lord, we thank you for this ''staggering'' payload of frozen waffles you have bestowed upon us. And since we have been ''faith''ful to you, we ''know'' that you ''will'' send us some good fortune ''one'' of these days, even though you sure as hell seem to be taking your sweet time. Amen.}} |
||
− | |Oh, good. I'm starving. |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|All|Amen.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Cartman|Pfff..!}} |
||
− | ! |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Mrs. McCormick|Okay, let's dig in.}} |
||
− | | bgcolor="#{{Color3}}"|''[The boys are seated, as are Kenny's parents. Kenny's older brother comes to table. All there is to eat is a plate of 5 or 6 frozen waffles and a toaster to toast them in. The boys can only wonder]'' |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|She drops a waffle into the toaster.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kevin|That one's mine, that one's mine!}} |
||
− | !Mrs. McCormick: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Cartman|''[Coolly.]'' What kind of side dishes will we be enjoying this evening with our frozen waffles?}} |
||
− | |Let's say grace. ''[The boys put their hands together]'' |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|Everyone stops and waits.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Cartman|Am I to understand there will ''be'' no side dishes?}} |
||
− | !Stuart: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Stuart|So, Kyle, your dad's still bringing home those big, fat lawyer paychecks?}} |
||
− | |Lord, we thank you for this ''staggering'' payload of frozen waffles you have bestowed upon us. And since we have been ''faith''ful to you, we ''know'' that you ''will'' send us some good fortune ''one'' of these days, even though you sure as hell seem to be taking your sweet time. Amen. |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kyle|I don't know.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Mrs. McCormick|Stuart, don't even get started!}} |
||
− | !All: |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|She points at him.}} |
||
− | |Amen. |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Stuart|''[To his wife.]'' What? I'm just askin' a question. ''[To Kyle.]'' You know, your dad and I used to be best friends when we were teenagers. We would work together at Pizza Shack. But ''he'' got promoted and went off to community college and I didn't. And you know why? 'Cause your dad's ''Jewish''!}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Cartman|Puh! I heard that.}} |
||
− | !Cartman: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Mrs. McCormick|That ain't why, Stuart! ''[Sadness creeps into her voice.]'' It's because ''you'' are an alcoholic retard and ''he'' had dreams of not eating frozen waffles for dinner every night!}} |
||
− | |Pfff..! |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Stuart|Hey, is it ''my'' fault you don't know how to cook?!}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Mrs. McCormick|What am I supposed to do with frozen waffles, clamhead?! You put 'em in the toaster and you cook 'em!}} |
||
− | !Mrs. McCormick: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Stuart|You just don't know how to use spices and stuff.}} |
||
− | |Okay, let's dig in. ''[drops a waffle into the toaster]'' |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kevin|''[Gleefully.]'' My waffle's d-hun, my waffle's d-hu-hun!}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Mrs. McCormick|Now Kevin, we ain't got enough for everybody. You have to split that with your brother.}} |
||
− | !Kevin: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Cartman|Oh, Jesus, are you fucking kidding me?}} |
||
− | |That one's mine, that one's mine! |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Stuart|Hey! We don't say "fuck" at the table, you little asshole!}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Cartman|''[Hushed.]'' Heh, we apparently don't say 'side dishes' at the table, either.}} |
||
− | !Cartman: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kenny|(Aa-choo!)}} |
||
− | |''[coolly]'' What kind of side dishes will we be enjoying this evening with our frozen waffles? ''[everyone stops and waits]'' Am I to understand there will ''be'' no side dishes? |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Mrs. McCormick|Kenny, honey, if you're going to sneeze, sneeze on them.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Stan|Huh?}} |
||
− | !Stuart: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kenny|''[Turning towards Cartman.]'' (Waa-choo!)}} |
||
− | |So, Kyle, your dad's still bringing home those big, fat lawyer paychecks? |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Cartman|''[Recoiling.]'' Ey!}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|Cartman closes both his eyes, but then opens the right one. Later, in Kenny's room. Kenny has two posters of bikini-clad women and one of a 4X4 monster truck. His curtains are tatters and his dresser drawer is a battered suitcase. His bed has no frame to rest on.}} |
||
− | !Kyle: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Cartman|Man, your family ''sucks ass'', Kenny. Whoever heard of frozen waffles for dinner?}} |
||
− | |I don't know. |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kyle|Come on! Let's just get in our sleeping bags and get this night over with.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|The boys go to their respective sleeping bags while Kenny goes to his bed. The boys roll down their bags and Stan and Kyle have Terrance and Phillip sleeping bags, Cartman however...}} |
||
− | !Mrs. McCormick: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kyle|Cartman, what the hell is that?}} |
||
− | |Stuart, don't even get started! ''[she points at him]'' |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Cartman|It's my Urkel sleeping bag. Isn't it coool?}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kyle|''No'', it's not cool!}} |
||
− | !Stuart: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Stan|Dude, I think I just saw a ''rat!''}} |
||
− | |''[to his wife]'' What? I'm just askin' a question. ''[to Kyle]'' You know, your dad and I used to be best friends when we were teenagers. We would work together at Pizza Shack. But ''he'' got promoted and went off to community college and I didn't. And you know why? 'Cause your dad's ''Jewish''! |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Cartman|Argh! You have rats in your house, too, Kenny?!}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kenny|(Uh-huh.)}} |
||
− | !Cartman: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Cartman|Dude, seriously, you'd better stop being so poor, or else I'm gonna start huckin' rocks atcha.}} |
||
− | |Puh! I heard that. |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Stan|I don't think it's very healthy to sleep with rats.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kenny|(Well, there's gonna be a bunch of rats until they put the freakin' ceiling in.)}} |
||
− | !Mrs. McCormick: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Stan|Oh.}} |
||
− | |That ain't why, Stuart! ''[sadness creeps into her voice]'' It's because ''you'' are an alcoholic retard and ''he'' had dreams of not eating frozen waffles for dinner every night! ''[thump]'' |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|The boys settle in, and Kenny claps twice. The lights go out.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kenny|(Aa-choo!)}} |
||
− | !Stuart: |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|The next day. The boys have gone back home. First up: Stan's house. Stan has a thermometer in his mouth and his skin is starting to break out.}} |
||
− | |Hey, is it ''my'' fault you don't know how to cook?! |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sharon|Okay, lemme see.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|She withdraws the thermometer, and reads it.}} |
||
− | !Mrs. McCormick: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sharon|Oh, goody! You've got a fever!}} |
||
− | |What am I supposed to do with frozen waffles, clamhead?! You put 'em in the toaster and you cook 'em! |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Stan|''[Mad.]'' Goody? What do you mean, "goody"?!}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sharon|Yyup, it looks like you've got chickenpox alright.}} |
||
− | !Stuart: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Stan|Chickenpo--? Oh no, I must have caught it from Kenny last night.}} |
||
− | |You just don't know how to use spices and stuff. |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sharon|Oh, gee, I guess you did.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Stan|Well, you sure seem happy about it!}} |
||
− | !Kevin: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sharon|All right, it's off to bed with you, young man.}} |
||
− | |''[gleefully]'' My waffle's d-hun, my waffle's d-hu-hun! |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|Cartman's house. Cartman is on the sofa scratching at his skin.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Liane|Don't scratch it, hon.}} |
||
− | !Mrs. McCormick: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Cartman|''[Whining.]'' But mom, seriously, it ''itches''. I can't stand it!}} |
||
− | |Now Kevin, we ain't got enough for everybody. You have to split that with your brother. |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Liane|''No'', hon.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Cartman|''[Whining.]'' Mom, seriously, it itches. It itches!}} |
||
− | !Cartman: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Liane|Here, I got you some calamine lotion.}} |
||
− | |Oh, Jesus, are you fucking kidding me? |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|She hands the bottle to him.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Cartman|I don't wanna.}} |
||
− | !Stuart: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Liane|It'll make your itches go away.}} |
||
− | |Hey! We don't say "fuck" at the table, you little asshole! |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|She opens the bottle and rubs some lotion on his face.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Cartman|Ugh. U''un''nh.}} |
||
− | !Cartman: |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|She stops.}} |
||
− | |''[hushed]'' Heh, we apparently don't say 'side dishes' at the table, either. |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Cartman|Ey, give me that!}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|He takes the bottle and rubs some more lotion on his face.}} |
||
− | !Kenny: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Cartman|Ahhhh...}} |
||
− | |(Aa-choo!) |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Liane|Not too much, hon. It says on the bottle that too much can be bad.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Cartman|More calamine lotion!}} |
||
− | !Mrs. McCormick: |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|Kyle's house. His parents look him over.}} |
||
− | |Kenny, honey, if you're going to sneeze, sneeze on them. |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sheila|I don't understand it. He's perfectly healthy.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kyle|Yeah. I feel great!}} |
||
− | !Stan: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sheila|Are you sure you stayed over at Kenny's house?}} |
||
− | |Huh? |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kyle|Yeah, dude. I ''told'' you, we had bread sandwiches for breakfast.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sheila|Did you sleep in the same room?}} |
||
− | !Kenny: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kyle|Yes. Why?}} |
||
− | |''[turning to Cartman]'' (Waa-choo!) |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sheila|Bubbe, how would you like to spend the night at your friend Kenny's house again?}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kyle|No way, dude! It sucked ass! They don't even have cable!}} |
||
− | !Cartman: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sheila|Well I think you need to spend more time with your friends.}} |
||
− | |''[recoiling]'' Ey! ''[he closes both his eyes, but then opens the right one]'' |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kyle|Kenny's not really my friend, Ma. I don't give a rat's ass about him.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sheila|I'm gonna give Mrs. McCormick a call.}} |
||
− | ! |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kyle|Aawwww! Hey Dad. Is it true that you and Kenny's dad used to be best friends when you were young?}} |
||
− | | bgcolor="#{{Color3}}"|''[Kenny's room. The boys enter it. Kenny has two posters of bikini-clad women and one of a 4X4 monster truck. His curtains are tatters and his dresser drawer is a battered suitcase. His bed has no frame to rest on]'' |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Gerald|Who? Stuart? Yeah, yeah, I guess we were.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kyle|Well how come Kenny's family eats frozen waffles for dinner and has rats on the floor, and we have a big house and lots of food?}} |
||
− | !Cartman: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Gerald|Well, because Kenny's family doesn't have as much money as we do.}} |
||
− | |Man, your family ''sucks ass'', Kenny. Whoever heard of frozen waffles for dinner? |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kyle|But ''why?'' If they're hungry and poor, why don't we just always give them half of ''our'' food?}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Gerald|Ha ha ha ha ha! Ooh-ho boy, have ''you'' got a lot to learn! Sit down, son.}} |
||
− | !Kyle: |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|Gerald sits and motions for Kyle to sit on his lap.}} |
||
− | |Come on! Let's just get in our sleeping bags and get this night over with. |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Gerald|You see, Kyle, we humans work as a society, and in order for a society to thrive, we need gods, and clods.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kyle|Gods and clods?}} |
||
− | ! |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Gerald|Yes. You see, I spent a lot of time going to law school, and I was able to go because I have a slightly higher intellect than others. But I still need people to pump my gas, and make my French fries, and fix my laundry machine when it breaks down.}} |
||
− | | bgcolor=“#{{Color3}}"|''[The boys go to their respective sleeping bags while Kenny goes to his bed. The boys roll down their bags and this is what the bags say]'' |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kyle|Oooohh, I see. Gods and clods!}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Gerald|''That's'' right. So Kenny's family is happy just the way they are, and we're all a functioning part of America.}} |
||
− | !Kyle: |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|Stan's house, night time. Stan is in bed, motionless.}} |
||
− | |Cartman, what the hell is that? |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sharon|''[Enters.]'' Stanley, can I get you anything else?}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|She draws closer and feels his forehead.}} |
||
− | !Cartman: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sharon|Stanley? Oh my God! Randy?! Randy, hurry, he's burning up!}} |
||
− | |It's my Urkel sleeping bag. Isn't it coool? |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|Next day, Hell's Pass Hospital. Stan now lies next to Shelly. Their parents are also present.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sharon|Don't you worry, Stanley, you're going to be okay.}} |
||
− | !Kyle: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Dr. Doctor|''[Entering.]'' Can I talk to you outside?}} |
||
− | |''No'', it's not cool! |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sharon|Kids, Daddy and I are gonna be right back, okay?}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Stan|Okay.}} |
||
− | !Stan: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Shelly|''[Now that they're alone.]'' Serves you right, you little brat!}} |
||
− | |Dude, I think I just saw a ''rat!'' |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Stan|Well at least I'm not gonna die from it like ''you'' might! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Shelly|If I die from this, I'm taking you with me!}} |
||
− | !Cartman: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|TV Voice|''["Passion Cramps"]'' Will Carol find out she's a fa...|1}} |
||
− | |Argh! You have rats in your house, too, Kenny?! |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Stan|I don't wanna watch this! I wanna watch ''Terrance and Phillip''!}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Shelly|''[Threatening]'' We're watching this!}} |
||
− | !Kenny: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Stan|Well I've got the remote, ''bitch!'' Hahaha. ''[Click.]''}} |
||
− | |(Uh-huh.) |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Phillip|Say, Terrance? Will you check my ass for abnormalities?|1}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|Phillip raises his leg high.}} |
||
− | !Cartman: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Terrance|Sure thing, Phillip.|1}} |
||
− | |Dude, seriously, you'd better stop being so poor, or else I'm gonna start huckin' rocks atcha. |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|Terrance sticks his head in there, and Phillip farts on him.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Terrance|Ah ha ha ha, you got me again!|1}} |
||
− | !Stan: |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|Stan laughs.}} |
||
− | |I don't think it's very healthy to sleep with rats. |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Phillip|That's tomfoolery.|1}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|Stan laughs, as do Terrance and Phillip.}} |
||
− | !Kenny: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Shelly|Give me the remote!}} |
||
− | |(Well, there's gonna be a bunch of rats until they put the freakin' ceiling in.) |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Stan|No way, dude! We're gonna watch Terrance and Phillip ''all'' day--}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|She reaches over to his bed, presses a switch, and his bed folds in on him.}} |
||
− | !Stan: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Stan|Ey! Get me out of here!}} |
||
− | |Oh. ''[the boys settle in, and Kenny claps twice. The lights go out]'' |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|Shelly takes the remote and switches channels.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|TV Voice|''["Passion Cramps"]'' She was...|1}} |
||
− | !Kenny: |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|Meanwhile, outside the room.}} |
||
− | |(Aa-choo!) |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Dr. Doctor|He'll be okay, but it's a good idea for us to monitor him for a while.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sharon|''[Anxious.]'' Oh God, what have we done?}} |
||
− | ! |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Dr. Doctor|There there now, it's not your fault.}} |
||
− | | bgcolor="#{{Color3}}"|''[The next day. The boys have gone back home. First up: Stan's house. Stan has a thermometer in his mouth and the first pox on his face]'' |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Randy|Doctor, we-uuuh purposefully sent our son to stay with a friend who had chickenpox so that he would get it early.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Dr. Doctor|Oh, wow, you did? Wow. You guys suck.}} |
||
− | !Sharon: |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|Kenny's house. Kyle and his mom are visiting. She's talking with Mrs. McCormick in the dining room. Kenny and Kyle enter.}} |
||
− | |Okay, lemme see. ''[withdraws it and reads it]'' Oh, goody! You've got a fever! |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kyle|Could we go home now, Ma?}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sheila|''No'', bubbeleh. You play with Kenny some more.}} |
||
− | !Stan: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kyle|But we've been playing for eight hours. We can't think of anything else to do.}} |
||
− | |''[mad]'' Goody? What do you mean, "goody"?! |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sheila|I've got a ''great'' game for you. It's called "ookie mouth".}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kyle|What's "ookie mouth"?}} |
||
− | !Sharon: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sheila|First, you let Kenny spit in your mouth. Then you try to swallow his spit and say "ookie mouth" at the same time.}} |
||
− | |Yyup, it looks like you've got chickenpox alright. |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kyle|Sick, dude!}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sheila|No, no, bubbe, it's loads of fun. Try it.}} |
||
− | !Stan: |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|Kenny and Kyle look at each other and walk away.}} |
||
− | |Chickenpo--? Oh no, I must have caught it from Kenny last night. |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Shiela|That ought to take care of it.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Mrs. McCormick|You want some more hot water?}} |
||
− | !Sharon: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sheila|Oh, no thank you. It's ''terrific'' though, it's-- You don't have any tea bags or coffee grounds to go in the hot water, do you?}} |
||
− | |Oh, gee, I guess you did. |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Mrs. McCormick|Naw, we don't go for that hoity-toity ''rich'' folk stuff.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sheila|I see. Well, you certainly have aab- humble home, Mrs. McCormick.}} |
||
− | !Stan: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Mrs. McCormick|Yehah, well, unfortunately my husband is a washed-up hunk of shit!}} |
||
− | |Well, you sure seem happy about it! |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sheila|Oh, I'm sorry to hear that.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kyle|Ookie mouth! ''[Kenny spits in.]'' Gross! I can't do it, Ma!}} |
||
− | !Sharon: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sheila|Try again, bubbe!}} |
||
− | |All right, it's off to bed with you, young man. |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|Kenny spits in Kyle's mouth again.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kyle|Argh!}} |
||
− | ! |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sheila|You know, your husband and mine used to work together as teenagers.}} |
||
− | | bgcolor="#{{Color3}}"|''[Cartman's house. Cartman is on the sofa scratching at his pox]'' |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Mrs. McCormick|Oh they wuz best friends; you couldn't separate 'em.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sheila|''Real''ly? I met Gerald in college, so I didn't know. What happened to them?}} |
||
− | !Liane: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Mrs. McCormick|Oh they jus' grew apart, I guess. I think Stuart's a little jealous that your husband got out of makin' pizzas and went on to make somethin' of hisself.}} |
||
− | |Don't scratch it, hon. |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sheila|Well that's too bad. I'm sure your husband's a fine man.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Mrs. McCormick|Oh, ''hell'' no! He's a nugget o' deer turd.}} |
||
− | !Cartman: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sheila|But if they were such good friends it seems silly that they don't even talk anymore. Let's get them together!}} |
||
− | |''[whining]'' But mom, seriously, it ''itches''. I can't stand it! |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Mrs. McCormick|Uh-I don't know.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sheila|We'll just arrange a little fishing trip for them or something.}} |
||
− | !Liane: |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|Kyle returns with Kenny.}} |
||
− | |''No'', hon. |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kyle|I can't say "ookie mouth" and have Kenny spit down my throat at the same time. It's impossible.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|Kyle's face and hat are covered in spit.}} |
||
− | !Cartman: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sheila|Practice makes perfect, bubbe.}} |
||
− | |''[whining] Mom, seriously, it itches. It itches!'' |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|Cartman's house. Cartman's on the sofa watching TV, scratching his face.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Cartman|Dammit, where's that calamine lotion?!}} |
||
− | !Liane: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Terrance|''[With clipboard.]'' Phillip, I've got good news, and bad news.|1}} |
||
− | |Here, I got you some calamine lotion. ''[hands the bottle to him]'' |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Phillip|Give it to me straight, Terrance.|1}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Terrance|The good news is, you have a clean bill of health.|1}} |
||
− | !Cartman: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Phillip|Oh, what a relief!|1}} |
||
− | |I don't wanna. |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Terrance|The bad news is, you have cancer.|1}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|Cartman is shocked.}} |
||
− | !Liane: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Phillip|Cancer?|1}} |
||
− | |It'll make your itches go away. ''[she opens the bottle and rubs some lotion on his face]'' |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Terrance|Yes. I'm afraid your ass is collapsing.|1}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Phillip|My ass is collapsing?|1}} |
||
− | !Cartman: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Terrance|Yes. See this X-ray? ''[Turns it on.]'' That's your ass. See this line? ''[Points to it.]'' That's your ass collapsing. ''Your ass'' is collapsing.|1}} |
||
− | |Ugh. U''un''nh. ''[she stops]'' Ey, give me that! ''[he takes the bottle and rubs some more lotion on his face. Then, deeply]'' Ahhhh... |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Phillip|Will this mean that I won't be able to fart anymore?|1}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Terrance|No, it means that you won't be able to live anymore.|1}} |
||
− | !Liane: |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|They both laugh.}} |
||
− | |Not too much, hon. It says on the bottle that too much can be bad. |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Cartman|''[Somber.]'' Oh, no. ''[The itching returns.]'' Damnit!}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|Mr. Kitty strolls by.}} |
||
− | !Cartman: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Cartman|No, Kitty! That's a-- Wait a minute. Come 'ere, Kitty!}} |
||
− | |''More calamine lotion!'' |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|Kitty jumps up and Cartman uses him as a scrubber.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Cartman|Uh. Yes. Uh...}} |
||
− | ! |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Liane|''[Closing a door.]'' I'm back, hon. I got some more calamine lotion.}} |
||
− | | bgcolor="#{{Color3}}"|''[Kyle's house. His parents look him over]'' |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Cartman|''[Releases Mr. Kitty.]'' It's about friggin' time! Give me that!}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|He grabs the bag and hurries up the stairs.}} |
||
− | !Sheila: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Liane|Just use a little bit of that stuff, hon. It has to last a while.}} |
||
− | |I don't understand it. He's perfectly healthy. |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|Cartman reaches the bathroom and closes the door. Then he opens the bag and pulls out six bottles of the lotion and pours them into the tub. Then he undresses and jumps into the tub.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Cartman|Uugh! Yeessss. ''[His voice trails off.]'' Ooohhh yyou guys, seriiously, it calms yer ass. Ahhhh...}} |
||
− | !Kyle: |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|He sinks into the water blissfully as bubbles pop around him. Meanwhile, Gerald and Stuart are driving to the river for a fishing trip.}} |
||
− | |Yeah. I feel great! |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Stuart|I didn't know you like to fish, Gerry.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Gerald|Oh, yeah, love it! I haven't done it for a while, though. I had to go out and buy a few things, you know a-. A rod and a reel and an uh, uuh...}} |
||
− | !Sheila: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Stuart|Tackle box?}} |
||
− | |Are you sure you stayed over at Kenny's house? |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Gerald|Yeah, tackle box. ''[Stretches.]'' Man, smell that mountain air. What a great Saturday morning; aren't weekends just the best?}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Stuart|When you're uh-unemployed, weekends are meaningless.}} |
||
− | !Kyle: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Gerald|Right. Right-right.}} |
||
− | |Yeah, dude. I ''told'' you, we had bread sandwiches for breakfast. |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|Monday afternoon, South Park Elementary. The dismissal bell rings.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Mr. Garrison|And so, children, that's how you tell a prostitute from a policeman. Now, are there any questions?}} |
||
− | !Sheila: |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|Kyle raises his hand.}} |
||
− | |Did you sleep in the same room? |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Mr. Garrison|Yes, Kyle?}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kyle|What the hell does that have to do with American history?}} |
||
− | !Kyle: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Mr. Garrison|Uh, that's a good question, Kyle. Are there any other questions?}} |
||
− | |Yes. Why? |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kyle|Mr. Garrison, I'm the only one here. Everyone else has chicken herpes.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Mr. Garrison|Right, right. Uhh... Well, class, I'm going to assign you all a paper. The theme of the paper will be, "How I would make America better."}} |
||
− | !Sheila: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kyle|What?! Does everybody have to do it, or just me?}} |
||
− | |Bubbe, how would you like to spend the night at your friend Kenny's house again? |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Mr. Garrison|Uh, don't worry, Kyle. I'm sending homework to all the children who are out sick. They'll have to turn in a paper, too.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|Hell's Pass Hospital.}} |
||
− | !Kyle: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Stan|Homework?! But I'm in the hospital!}} |
||
− | |No way, dude! It sucked ass! They don't even have cable! |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sharon|Well, your teacher sent this stuff over for you to do while you're sick.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Stan|That son of a bitch! What kind of sick weirdo is he?}} |
||
− | !Sheila: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sharon|Now, Stanley, I know at your age teachers can seem cold and heartless, but later, you'll understand that he did this for your own good.}} |
||
− | |Well I think you need to spend more time with your friends. |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Stan|Not Mr. Garrison, Ma. He really is a sick weirdo.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Randy|Yeah, it's-it's true, he is.}} |
||
− | !Kyle: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sharon|Oh. Well, anyway, here's a pencil and some paper.}} |
||
− | |Kenny's not really my friend, Ma. I don't give a rat's ass about him. |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Stan|Wait! Where are you going?}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Randy|We're going down to-uhh Happy Burger for some milkshakes.}} |
||
− | !Sheila: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Stan|Milkshakes?!}} |
||
− | |I'm gonna give Mrs. McCormick a call. |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sharon|Yeah, and then we're going to the movies.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Randy|See ya, son. ''[They leave.]''}} |
||
− | !Kyle: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Stan|Weak!}} |
||
− | |Aawwww! Hey Dad. Is it true that you and Kenny's dad used to be best friends when you were young? |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|Kyle's house. Kyle is on the sofa working on his paper.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kyle|white"|"So this is how America works. We have gods and clods. My dad says America needs both rich and poor to survive, but I have a better idea."|1}} |
||
− | !Gerald: |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|Kyle puts down the pen and paper and walks over to the kitchen.}} |
||
− | |Who? Stuart? Yeah, yeah, I guess we were. |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sheila|No I don't understand it, Dr. Schwartz, he's ''perfectly'' healthy.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|Sheila is on the phone, Kyle is over by the microwave.}} |
||
− | !Kyle: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sheila|He's been over at Kenny's house three days in a row and still hasn't caught the chickenpox.}} |
||
− | |Well how come Kenny's family eats frozen waffles for dinner and has rats on the floor, and we have a big house and lots of food? |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kyle|''[Softly.]'' What?}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sheila|I don't know what else to do. We sent the ''other'' boys over and ''they'' all got sick, but I can't get my little Kyle to catch it.}} |
||
− | !Gerald: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kyle|''[Frightened.]'' Oh my God!}} |
||
− | |Well, because Kenny's family doesn't have as much money as we do. |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sheila|''[Turns.]'' Kyle, what are ''you'' doing there, honey?}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kyle|''[Angry.]'' You!}} |
||
− | !Kyle: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sheila|''[Subdued.]'' I'll call you back, Dr. Schwartz.}} |
||
− | |But ''why?'' If they're hungry and poor, why don't we just always give them half of ''our'' food? |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|She hangs up.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kyle|You!}} |
||
− | !Gerald: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sheila|''[Walks over.]'' What, ''bubbeleh'', what is it?}} |
||
− | |Ha ha ha ha ha! Ooh-ho boy, have ''you'' got a lot to learn! Sit down, son. ''[Gerald sits and motions for Kyle to sit on his lap]'' You see, Kyle, we humans work as a society, and in order for a society to thrive, we need gods, and clods. |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kyle|You sent us over to Kenny's house on ''purpose!'' You ''wanted'' us to get sick!}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sheila|''Oy''. It was for your own good, Kyle. I wanted you to get chickenpox while you were young.}} |
||
− | !Kyle: |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kyle|Why?! So I could be sitting in the hospital waiting to die, like Stan?!}} |
||
− | |Gods and clods? |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sheila|Now, Kyle, come here.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Kyle|You get away from me, you crazy woman!}} |
||
− | !Gerald: |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|He runs off.}} |
||
− | |Yes. You see, I spent a lot of time going to law school, and I was able to go because I have a slightly higher intellect than others. But I still need people to pump my gas, and make my French fries, and fix my laundry machine when it breaks down. |
||
+ | {{ScriptDialog|Sheila|Hoh boy.}} |
||
− | |- |
||
+ | {{ScriptScene|Down by the riverside. Stuart and Gerald are fishing.}} |
||
− | !Kyle: |
||
− | |Oooohh, I see. Gods and clods! |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Gerald: |
||
− | |''That's'' right. So Kenny's family is happy just the way they are, and we're all a functioning part of America. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | ! |
||
− | | bgcolor="#{{Color3}}"|''[Stan's house, night time. Stan is in bed, motionless]'' |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Sharon: |
||
− | |''[enters]'' Stanley, can I get you anything else? ''[draws closer and feels his forehead]'' Stanley? Oh my God! Randy?! Randy, hurry, he's burning up! |
||
− | |- |
||
− | ! |
||
− | | bgcolor="#{{Color3}}"|''[Next day, Hell's Pass Hospital. Stan now lies next to Shelly. Their parents are also present]'' |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Sharon: |
||
− | |Don't you worry, Stanley, you're going to be okay. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Dr. Doctor: |
||
− | |''[entering]'' Can I talk to you outside? |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Sharon: |
||
− | |Kids, Daddy and I are gonna be right back, okay? |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Stan: |
||
− | |Okay. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Shelly: |
||
− | |''[now that they're alone]'' Serves you right, you little brat! |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Stan: |
||
− | |Well at least I'm not gonna die from it like ''you'' might! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Shelly: |
||
− | |If I die from this, ''I'm taking you with me!'' |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !TV Voice: |
||
− | |''["Passion Cramps"]'' Will Carol find out she's a fa... |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Stan: |
||
− | |I don't wanna watch this! I wanna watch ''Terrance and Phillip''! |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Shelly: |
||
− | |''[threatening] We're watching this!'' |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Stan: |
||
− | |Well I've got the remote, ''bitch!'' Hahaha. ''[Click]'' |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Phillip: |
||
− | |Say, Terrance? Will you check my ass for abnormalities? ''[raises his leg high]'' |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Terrance: |
||
− | |Sure thing, Phillip. ''[sticks his head in there, and Phillip farts on it]'' Ah ha ha ha, you got me again! ''[Stan laughs]'' |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Phillip: |
||
− | |That's tomfoolery. ''[Stan laughs, as do Terrance and Phillip]'' |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Shelly: |
||
− | |Give me the remote! |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Stan: |
||
− | |No way, dude! We're gonna watch Terrance and Phillip ''all'' day--''[she reaches over to his bed, presses a switch, and his bed fold him in]'' Ey! Get me out of here! ''[she takes the remote and switches channels]'' |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !TV Voice: |
||
− | |''["Passion Cramps"]'' She was... |
||
− | |- |
||
− | ! |
||
− | | bgcolor="#{{Color3}}"|''[outside the room]'' |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Dr. Doctor: |
||
− | |He'll be okay, but it's a good idea for us to monitor him for a while. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Sharon: |
||
− | |''[anxious]'' Oh God, what have we done? |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Dr. Doctor: |
||
− | |There there now, it's not your fault. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Randy: |
||
− | |Doctor, we-uuuh purposefully sent our son to stay with a friend who had chickenpox so that he would get it early. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Dr. Doctor: |
||
− | |Oh, wow, you did? Wow. You guys suck. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | ! |
||
− | | bgcolor="#{{Color3}}"|''[Kenny's house. Kyle and his mom are visiting. She's talking with Mrs. McCormick in the dining room. Kenny and Kyle enter]'' |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Kyle: |
||
− | |Could we go home now, Ma? |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Sheila: |
||
− | |''No'', bubbeleh. You play with Kenny some more. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Kyle: |
||
− | |But we've been playing for eight hours. We can't think of anything else to do. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Sheila: |
||
− | |I've got a ''great'' game for you. It's called "ookie mouth". |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Kyle: |
||
− | |What's "ookie mouth"? |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Sheila: |
||
− | |First, you let Kenny spit in your mouth. Then you try to swallow his spit and say "ookie mouth" at the same time. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Kyle: |
||
− | |Sick, dude! |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Sheila: |
||
− | |No, no, bubbe, it's loads of fun. Try it. ''[Kenny and Kyle look at each other and walk away]'' That ought to take care of it. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Mrs. McCormick: |
||
− | |You want some more hot water? |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Sheila: |
||
− | |Oh, no thank you. It's ''terrific'' though, it's-- You don't have any tea bags or coffee grounds to go in the hot water, do you? |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Mrs. McCormick: |
||
− | |Naw, we don't go for that hoidy-toidy ''rich'' folk stuff. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Sheila: |
||
− | |I see. Well, you certainly have aab- humble home, Mrs. McCormick. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Mrs. McCormick: |
||
− | |Yehah, well, unfortunately my husband is a washed-up hunk of shit! |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Sheila: |
||
− | |Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Kyle: |
||
− | |Ookie mouth! ''[Kenny spits in]'' Gross! I can't do it, Ma! |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Sheila: |
||
− | |Try again, bubbe! |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Kyle: |
||
− | |''[Kenny spits]'' Argh! |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Sheila: |
||
− | |You know, your husband and mine used to work together as teenagers. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Mrs. McCormick: |
||
− | |Oh they wuz best friends; you couldn't separate 'em. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Sheila: |
||
− | |''Real''ly? I met Gerald in college, so I didn't know. What happened to them? |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Mrs. McCormick: |
||
− | |Oh they jus' grew apart, I guess. I think Stuart's a little jealous that your husband got out of makin' pizzas and went on to make somethin' of hisself. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Sheila: |
||
− | |Well that's too bad. I'm sure your husband's a fine man. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Mrs. McCormick: |
||
− | |Oh, ''hell'' no! He's a nugget o' deer turd. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Sheila: |
||
− | |But if they were such good friends it seems silly that they don't even talk anymore. Let's get them together! |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Mrs. McCormick: |
||
− | |Uh-I don't know. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Sheila: |
||
− | |We'll just arrange a little fishing trip for them or something. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Kyle: |
||
− | |''[returning with Kenny]'' I can't say "ookie mouth" and have Kenny spit down my throat at the same time. It's impossible. ''[There's spit on his face and on his hat]'' |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Sheila: |
||
− | |Practice makes perfect, bubbe. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | ! |
||
− | | bgcolor="#{{Color3}}"|''[Cartman's house. Cartman's on the sofa watching TV]'' |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Cartman: |
||
− | |''[scratching his face]'' Dammit, where's that calamine lotion?! |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Terrance: |
||
− | |''[with clipboard]'' Phillip, I've got good news, and bad news. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Phillip: |
||
− | |Give it to me straight, Terrance. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Terrance: |
||
− | |The good news is, you have a clean bill of health. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Phillip: |
||
− | |Oh, what a relief! |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Terrance: |
||
− | |The bad news is, you have cancer. ''[Cartman is shocked]'' |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Phillip: |
||
− | |Cancer? |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Terrance: |
||
− | |Yes. I'm afraid your ass is collapsing. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Phillip: |
||
− | |My ass is collapsing? |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Terrance: |
||
− | |Yes. See this X-ray? ''[turns it on]'' That's your ass. See this line? ''[points to it]'' That's your ass collapsing. ''Your ass'' is collapsing. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Phillip: |
||
− | |Will this mean that I won't be able to fart anymore? |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Terrance: |
||
− | |No, it means that you won't be able to live anymore. ''[they both laugh]'' |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Cartman: |
||
− | |''[somber]'' Oh, no. ''[the itching returns]'' Damnit! ''[Mr. Kitty strolls by]'' No, Kitty! That's a-- Wait a minute. Come 'ere, Kitty! ''[Kitty jumps up and Cartman uses him as a scrubber]'' Uh. Yes. Uh... |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Liane: |
||
− | |''[closing a door]'' I'm back, hon. I got some more calamine lotion. ''[she's been shopping]'' |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Cartman: |
||
− | |''[releases the cat]'' It's about friggin' time! Give me that! ''[grabs the bag and hurries up the stairs]'' |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Liane: |
||
− | |Just use a little bit of that stuff, hon. It has to last a while. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | ! |
||
− | | bgcolor=“#{{Color3}}"|''[Cartman reaches the bathroom and closes the door. Then he opens the bag and pulls out six bottles of the lotion and pours them into the tub. Then he undresses and jumps into the tub himself]'' |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Cartman: |
||
− | |Uugh! ''[relief]'' Yeessss. ''[his voice trails off]'' Ooohhh yyou guys, seriiously, it calms yer ass. Ahhhh... ''[he sinks into the water blissfully as bubble pop around him]'' |
||
− | |- |
||
− | ! |
||
− | | bgcolor="#{{Color3}}"|''[Gone fishin'. Stuart drives Gerald to a fishing site]'' |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Stuart: |
||
− | |I didn't know you like to fish, Gerry. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Gerald: |
||
− | |Oh, yeah, love it! I haven't done it for a while, though. I had to go out and buy a few things, you know a-. A rod and a reel and an uh, uuh... |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Stuart: |
||
− | |Tackle box? |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Gerald: |
||
− | |Yeah, tackle box. ''[stretches]'' Man, smell that mountain air. What a great Saturday morning; aren't weekends just the best? |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Stuart: |
||
− | |When you're uh-unemployed, weekends are meaningless. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Gerald: |
||
− | |Right. Right-right. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | ! |
||
− | | bgcolor="#{{Color3}}"|''[Monday afternoon, South Park Elementary. The dismissal bell rings]'' |
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− | |- |
||
− | !Mr. Garrison: |
||
− | |And so, children, that's how you tell a prostitute from a policeman. Now, are there any questions? ''[Kyle raises his hand]'' Yes, Kyle? |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Kyle: |
||
− | |What the hell does that have to do with American history? |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Mr. Garrison: |
||
− | |Uh, that's a good question, Kyle. Are there any other questions? |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Kyle: |
||
− | |Mr. Garrison, I'm the only one here. Everyone else has chicken herpes. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Mr. Garrison: |
||
− | |Right, right. Uhh... Well, class, I'm going to assign you all a paper. The theme of the paper will be, "How I would make America better." |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Kyle: |
||
− | |What?! Does everybody have to do it, or just me? |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Mr. Garrison: |
||
− | |Uh, don't worry, Kyle. I'm sending homework to all the children who are out sick. They'll have to turn in a paper, too. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | ! |
||
− | | bgcolor="#{{Color3}}"|''[Hell's Pass Hospital]'' |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Stan: |
||
− | |Homework?! But I'm in the hospital! |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Sharon: |
||
− | |Well, your teacher sent this stuff over for you to do while you're sick. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Stan: |
||
− | |That son of a bitch! What kind of sick weirdo is he? |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Sharon: |
||
− | |Now, Stanley, I know at your age teachers can seem cold and heartless, but later, you'll understand that he did this for your own good. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Stan: |
||
− | |Not Mr. Garrison, Ma. He really is a sick weirdo. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Randy: |
||
− | |Yeah, it's-it's true, he is. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Sharon: |
||
− | |Oh. Well, anyway, here's a pencil and some paper. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Stan: |
||
− | |Wait! Where are you going? |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Randy: |
||
− | |We're going down to-uhh Happy Burger for some milkshakes. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Stan: |
||
− | |Milkshakes?! |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Sharon: |
||
− | |Yeah, and then we're going to the movies. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Randy: |
||
− | |See ya, son. ''[they leave]'' |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Stan: |
||
− | |Weak! |
||
− | |- |
||
− | ! |
||
− | | bgcolor="#{{Color3}}"|''[Kyle's house. Kyle is on the sofa working on his paper]'' |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Kyle: |
||
− | | bgcolor="white"|"So this is how America works. We have gods and clods. My dad says America needs both rich and poor to survive, but I have a better idea." |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Sheila: |
||
− | |''[Kyle puts down pen and paper and walks over to the kitchen]'' No I don't understand it, Dr. Schwartz, he's ''perfectly'' healthy. ''[she's on the phone, he's by the microwave oven]'' He's been over at Kenny's house three days in a row and still hasn't caught the chickenpox. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Kyle: |
||
− | |''[softly]'' What? |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Sheila: |
||
− | |I don't know what else to do. We sent the ''other'' boys over and ''they'' all got sick, but I can't get my little Kyle to catch it. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Kyle: |
||
− | |''[frightened]'' Oh my God! |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Sheila: |
||
− | |''[turns]'' Kyle, what are ''you'' doing there, honey? |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Kyle: |
||
− | |''[angry]'' You! |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Sheila: |
||
− | |''[subdued]'' I'll call you back, Dr. Schwartz. ''[hangs up]'' |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Kyle: |
||
− | |You! |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Sheila: |
||
− | |''[walks over]'' What, ''bubbeleh'', what is it? |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Kyle: |
||
− | |You sent us over to Kenny's house on ''purpose!'' You ''wanted'' us to get sick! |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Sheila: |
||
− | |''Oy''. It was for your own good, Kyle. I wanted you to get chickenpox while you were young. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Kyle: |
||
− | |Why?! So I could be sitting in the hospital waiting to die, like Stan?! |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Sheila: |
||
− | |Now, Kyle, come here. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Kyle: |
||
− | |You get away from me, you crazy woman! ''[runs off]'' |
||
− | |- |
||
− | !Sheila: |
||
− | |Hoh boy. |
||
− | |- |
||
− | ! |
||
− | | bgcolor="#{{Color3}}"|''[Down by the riverside. Stuart and Gerald are fishing]'' |
||
|- |
|- |
||
!Stuart: |
!Stuart: |
Revision as of 16:23, 6 December 2016
- The official script for "Chickenpox" was released by South Park Studios. It is located [[Media:{{{e}}}.pdf|here]]!
Cast
- Stan Marsh
- Kyle Broflovski
- Eric Cartman
- Kenny McCormick
- Shelly Marsh
- Randy Marsh
- Sharon Marsh
- Gerald Broflovski
- Sheila Broflovski
- Ike Broflovski
- Liane Cartman
- Stuart McCormick
- Kevin McCormick
- Mrs. McCormick
- Mr. Garrison
- Dr. Doctor
- Terrance and Phillip
- Chef
- Frida, the aged Prostitute
Script
Chickenpox | |
Hell's Pass Hospital. Sharon and Dr. Doctor stand before Shelly's bed. | |
It's a good thing we got her to the hospital in time. | |
But what's wrong with her? | |
It's chickenpox. There seems to be a small epidemic going around. Your daughter never had the chickenpox as a little child, I take it? | |
No, no, she's been perfectly healthy. | |
Well, that's the problem. You see, chickenpox is a pretty normal thing for young children, but as you get older it becomes a more and more ferocious disease. | |
The door opens and Stan enters. | |
[Sweetly.] Shelly, look who's come to visit you; your little brother, Stan. | |
[In disgust.] Oh, whoo-peee! | |
You know, most people don't realize that chickenpox is actually a form of herpes. | |
Dude, you've got herpes on your face! | |
Shut up, brat! | |
[With some urgency.] Will my daughter be okay? | |
She'll be fine. | |
[Stan scratches her cheek.] Stop it! | |
We just want to be cautious and monitor her here. | |
A crash is heard, and Sharon and Dr. Doctor look on in surprise. | |
Ow! | |
Shelly has knocked Stan to the floor. | |
Come on, Stanley. Give your sister a kiss and then we have to go. | |
The Broflovski house. Sharon, Sheila, and Liane are seated at the dining room table. Ike is playing in his high chair. | |
...and then the doctor said that it's much worse as you get older. My daughter is in pretty bad shape now, but if she were in her twenties, she could die. | |
My God, I never knew chickenpox was such a dangerous illness. | |
I guess it's much better to get it when you're young. | |
So tell me if I'm crazy, but I started thinking that we should intentionally have our boys play with a child who has the chickenpox. Let them get it now, while they're young. | |
That's not crazy at all, Sharon. Mothers do it all the time. | |
Oh, yes. When I was a child, my mother had me go over to a little girl's house who had the chickenpox, just so I would get it. | |
So it's not such a crazy idea after all? | |
Noo, no. And I'm pretty sure that strange little boy Kenny has the chickenpox right now. | |
Kyle, Stan, and Cartman walk up to the table. | |
Are you guys having a meeting or something? | |
How would you boys like to have a little slumber party at your friend Kenny's house tonight? | |
No way, dude. Kenny's family's poor; they live in the ghetto. | |
Yeah. Let's just have a slumber party here. | |
Boys, you're going to sleep over at Kenny's, and that's final. | |
Oh weak! | |
The boys have gone home to gather their things. Now they meet up and walk to Kenny's house. | |
I wonder why our moms want us to sleep over at Kenny's so bad. | |
Yeah, it's pretty weird. | |
The boys cross some railroad tracks. | |
Well, all I can say is, he's better have Nintendo. | |
They come upon a house with an orange cat and a small gray dog milling around. Strewn about the yard are a motor, a sofa, a refrigerator, a pack of beer bottles... | |
Well, here's Kenny's house. | |
In the ghetto | |
Stan knocks on the door and Stuart McCormick answers, beer in hand. | |
Yeah? | |
We're here to have a slumber party with Kenny. | |
What? Don't you know Kenny's sick with--? | |
[Intruding.] That's the whole point, remember? Their moms want them to catch it while they're young. | |
Oh yeah. | |
Catch what? | |
Nothin'. Uhco-uh, come on in, I was jus' makin' dinner. | |
The boys follow the parents in. Shag carpeting, another sofa, an engine block doubling as a coffee table, a beer sign... | |
And his momma cried | |
Stuart sits in his armchair. | |
Sshh! Cartman! | |
What? | |
[Setting the table.] Kenny, your little friends are here! Come play with them! | |
(No, Mom, I'm seriously sick!) | |
I know you're sick! Now get your buns out here! | |
Heheheh, buns. | |
[Walks up to the other boys.] (Hey you guys, what's goin' on?) | |
Whoa, dude! You've got herpes on your face, too! | |
[Scanning the room.] Where is the Nintendo? | |
We don't have a Nintendo. We got a ColecoVision hooked up to the black-and-white TV. | |
Rats scurry near the TV. | |
Oh my God. This is like a third-world country. | |
[Now finished setting table.] Throw your sleeping bags in Kenny's room and then come grab some dinner. | |
Oh, good. I'm starving. | |
The boys are seated, as are Kenny's parents. Kenny's older brother comes to table. All there is to eat is a plate of 5 or 6 frozen waffles and a toaster to toast them in. The boys can only wonder. | |
Let's say grace. | |
The boys put their hands together. | |
Lord, we thank you for this staggering payload of frozen waffles you have bestowed upon us. And since we have been faithful to you, we know that you will send us some good fortune one of these days, even though you sure as hell seem to be taking your sweet time. Amen. | |
Amen. | |
Pfff..! | |
Okay, let's dig in. | |
She drops a waffle into the toaster. | |
That one's mine, that one's mine! | |
[Coolly.] What kind of side dishes will we be enjoying this evening with our frozen waffles? | |
Everyone stops and waits. | |
Am I to understand there will be no side dishes? | |
So, Kyle, your dad's still bringing home those big, fat lawyer paychecks? | |
I don't know. | |
Stuart, don't even get started! | |
She points at him. | |
[To his wife.] What? I'm just askin' a question. [To Kyle.] You know, your dad and I used to be best friends when we were teenagers. We would work together at Pizza Shack. But he got promoted and went off to community college and I didn't. And you know why? 'Cause your dad's Jewish! | |
Puh! I heard that. | |
That ain't why, Stuart! [Sadness creeps into her voice.] It's because you are an alcoholic retard and he had dreams of not eating frozen waffles for dinner every night! | |
Hey, is it my fault you don't know how to cook?! | |
What am I supposed to do with frozen waffles, clamhead?! You put 'em in the toaster and you cook 'em! | |
You just don't know how to use spices and stuff. | |
[Gleefully.] My waffle's d-hun, my waffle's d-hu-hun! | |
Now Kevin, we ain't got enough for everybody. You have to split that with your brother. | |
Oh, Jesus, are you fucking kidding me? | |
Hey! We don't say "fuck" at the table, you little asshole! | |
[Hushed.] Heh, we apparently don't say 'side dishes' at the table, either. | |
(Aa-choo!) | |
Kenny, honey, if you're going to sneeze, sneeze on them. | |
Huh? | |
[Turning towards Cartman.] (Waa-choo!) | |
[Recoiling.] Ey! | |
Cartman closes both his eyes, but then opens the right one. Later, in Kenny's room. Kenny has two posters of bikini-clad women and one of a 4X4 monster truck. His curtains are tatters and his dresser drawer is a battered suitcase. His bed has no frame to rest on. | |
Man, your family sucks ass, Kenny. Whoever heard of frozen waffles for dinner? | |
Come on! Let's just get in our sleeping bags and get this night over with. | |
The boys go to their respective sleeping bags while Kenny goes to his bed. The boys roll down their bags and Stan and Kyle have Terrance and Phillip sleeping bags, Cartman however... | |
Cartman, what the hell is that? | |
It's my Urkel sleeping bag. Isn't it coool? | |
No, it's not cool! | |
Dude, I think I just saw a rat! | |
Argh! You have rats in your house, too, Kenny?! | |
(Uh-huh.) | |
Dude, seriously, you'd better stop being so poor, or else I'm gonna start huckin' rocks atcha. | |
I don't think it's very healthy to sleep with rats. | |
(Well, there's gonna be a bunch of rats until they put the freakin' ceiling in.) | |
Oh. | |
The boys settle in, and Kenny claps twice. The lights go out. | |
(Aa-choo!) | |
The next day. The boys have gone back home. First up: Stan's house. Stan has a thermometer in his mouth and his skin is starting to break out. | |
Okay, lemme see. | |
She withdraws the thermometer, and reads it. | |
Oh, goody! You've got a fever! | |
[Mad.] Goody? What do you mean, "goody"?! | |
Yyup, it looks like you've got chickenpox alright. | |
Chickenpo--? Oh no, I must have caught it from Kenny last night. | |
Oh, gee, I guess you did. | |
Well, you sure seem happy about it! | |
All right, it's off to bed with you, young man. | |
Cartman's house. Cartman is on the sofa scratching at his skin. | |
Don't scratch it, hon. | |
[Whining.] But mom, seriously, it itches. I can't stand it! | |
No, hon. | |
[Whining.] Mom, seriously, it itches. It itches! | |
Here, I got you some calamine lotion. | |
She hands the bottle to him. | |
I don't wanna. | |
It'll make your itches go away. | |
She opens the bottle and rubs some lotion on his face. | |
Ugh. Uunnh. | |
She stops. | |
Ey, give me that! | |
He takes the bottle and rubs some more lotion on his face. | |
Ahhhh... | |
Not too much, hon. It says on the bottle that too much can be bad. | |
More calamine lotion! | |
Kyle's house. His parents look him over. | |
I don't understand it. He's perfectly healthy. | |
Yeah. I feel great! | |
Are you sure you stayed over at Kenny's house? | |
Yeah, dude. I told you, we had bread sandwiches for breakfast. | |
Did you sleep in the same room? | |
Yes. Why? | |
Bubbe, how would you like to spend the night at your friend Kenny's house again? | |
No way, dude! It sucked ass! They don't even have cable! | |
Well I think you need to spend more time with your friends. | |
Kenny's not really my friend, Ma. I don't give a rat's ass about him. | |
I'm gonna give Mrs. McCormick a call. | |
Aawwww! Hey Dad. Is it true that you and Kenny's dad used to be best friends when you were young? | |
Who? Stuart? Yeah, yeah, I guess we were. | |
Well how come Kenny's family eats frozen waffles for dinner and has rats on the floor, and we have a big house and lots of food? | |
Well, because Kenny's family doesn't have as much money as we do. | |
But why? If they're hungry and poor, why don't we just always give them half of our food? | |
Ha ha ha ha ha! Ooh-ho boy, have you got a lot to learn! Sit down, son. | |
Gerald sits and motions for Kyle to sit on his lap. | |
You see, Kyle, we humans work as a society, and in order for a society to thrive, we need gods, and clods. | |
Gods and clods? | |
Yes. You see, I spent a lot of time going to law school, and I was able to go because I have a slightly higher intellect than others. But I still need people to pump my gas, and make my French fries, and fix my laundry machine when it breaks down. | |
Oooohh, I see. Gods and clods! | |
That's right. So Kenny's family is happy just the way they are, and we're all a functioning part of America. | |
Stan's house, night time. Stan is in bed, motionless. | |
[Enters.] Stanley, can I get you anything else? | |
She draws closer and feels his forehead. | |
Stanley? Oh my God! Randy?! Randy, hurry, he's burning up! | |
Next day, Hell's Pass Hospital. Stan now lies next to Shelly. Their parents are also present. | |
Don't you worry, Stanley, you're going to be okay. | |
[Entering.] Can I talk to you outside? | |
Kids, Daddy and I are gonna be right back, okay? | |
Okay. | |
[Now that they're alone.] Serves you right, you little brat! | |
Well at least I'm not gonna die from it like you might! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! | |
If I die from this, I'm taking you with me! | |
["Passion Cramps"] Will Carol find out she's a fa... | |
I don't wanna watch this! I wanna watch Terrance and Phillip! | |
[Threatening] We're watching this! | |
Well I've got the remote, bitch! Hahaha. [Click.] | |
Say, Terrance? Will you check my ass for abnormalities? | |
Phillip raises his leg high. | |
Sure thing, Phillip. | |
Terrance sticks his head in there, and Phillip farts on him. | |
Ah ha ha ha, you got me again! | |
Stan laughs. | |
That's tomfoolery. | |
Stan laughs, as do Terrance and Phillip. | |
Give me the remote! | |
No way, dude! We're gonna watch Terrance and Phillip all day-- | |
She reaches over to his bed, presses a switch, and his bed folds in on him. | |
Ey! Get me out of here! | |
Shelly takes the remote and switches channels. | |
["Passion Cramps"] She was... | |
Meanwhile, outside the room. | |
He'll be okay, but it's a good idea for us to monitor him for a while. | |
[Anxious.] Oh God, what have we done? | |
There there now, it's not your fault. | |
Doctor, we-uuuh purposefully sent our son to stay with a friend who had chickenpox so that he would get it early. | |
Oh, wow, you did? Wow. You guys suck. | |
Kenny's house. Kyle and his mom are visiting. She's talking with Mrs. McCormick in the dining room. Kenny and Kyle enter. | |
Could we go home now, Ma? | |
No, bubbeleh. You play with Kenny some more. | |
But we've been playing for eight hours. We can't think of anything else to do. | |
I've got a great game for you. It's called "ookie mouth". | |
What's "ookie mouth"? | |
First, you let Kenny spit in your mouth. Then you try to swallow his spit and say "ookie mouth" at the same time. | |
Sick, dude! | |
No, no, bubbe, it's loads of fun. Try it. | |
Kenny and Kyle look at each other and walk away. | |
That ought to take care of it. | |
You want some more hot water? | |
Oh, no thank you. It's terrific though, it's-- You don't have any tea bags or coffee grounds to go in the hot water, do you? | |
Naw, we don't go for that hoity-toity rich folk stuff. | |
I see. Well, you certainly have aab- humble home, Mrs. McCormick. | |
Yehah, well, unfortunately my husband is a washed-up hunk of shit! | |
Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. | |
Ookie mouth! [Kenny spits in.] Gross! I can't do it, Ma! | |
Try again, bubbe! | |
Kenny spits in Kyle's mouth again. | |
Argh! | |
You know, your husband and mine used to work together as teenagers. | |
Oh they wuz best friends; you couldn't separate 'em. | |
Really? I met Gerald in college, so I didn't know. What happened to them? | |
Oh they jus' grew apart, I guess. I think Stuart's a little jealous that your husband got out of makin' pizzas and went on to make somethin' of hisself. | |
Well that's too bad. I'm sure your husband's a fine man. | |
Oh, hell no! He's a nugget o' deer turd. | |
But if they were such good friends it seems silly that they don't even talk anymore. Let's get them together! | |
Uh-I don't know. | |
We'll just arrange a little fishing trip for them or something. | |
Kyle returns with Kenny. | |
I can't say "ookie mouth" and have Kenny spit down my throat at the same time. It's impossible. | |
Kyle's face and hat are covered in spit. | |
Practice makes perfect, bubbe. | |
Cartman's house. Cartman's on the sofa watching TV, scratching his face. | |
Dammit, where's that calamine lotion?! | |
[With clipboard.] Phillip, I've got good news, and bad news. | |
Give it to me straight, Terrance. | |
The good news is, you have a clean bill of health. | |
Oh, what a relief! | |
The bad news is, you have cancer. | |
Cartman is shocked. | |
Cancer? | |
Yes. I'm afraid your ass is collapsing. | |
My ass is collapsing? | |
Yes. See this X-ray? [Turns it on.] That's your ass. See this line? [Points to it.] That's your ass collapsing. Your ass is collapsing. | |
Will this mean that I won't be able to fart anymore? | |
No, it means that you won't be able to live anymore. | |
They both laugh. | |
[Somber.] Oh, no. [The itching returns.] Damnit! | |
Mr. Kitty strolls by. | |
No, Kitty! That's a-- Wait a minute. Come 'ere, Kitty! | |
Kitty jumps up and Cartman uses him as a scrubber. | |
Uh. Yes. Uh... | |
[Closing a door.] I'm back, hon. I got some more calamine lotion. | |
[Releases Mr. Kitty.] It's about friggin' time! Give me that! | |
He grabs the bag and hurries up the stairs. | |
Just use a little bit of that stuff, hon. It has to last a while. | |
Cartman reaches the bathroom and closes the door. Then he opens the bag and pulls out six bottles of the lotion and pours them into the tub. Then he undresses and jumps into the tub. | |
Uugh! Yeessss. [His voice trails off.] Ooohhh yyou guys, seriiously, it calms yer ass. Ahhhh... | |
He sinks into the water blissfully as bubbles pop around him. Meanwhile, Gerald and Stuart are driving to the river for a fishing trip. | |
I didn't know you like to fish, Gerry. | |
Oh, yeah, love it! I haven't done it for a while, though. I had to go out and buy a few things, you know a-. A rod and a reel and an uh, uuh... | |
Tackle box? | |
Yeah, tackle box. [Stretches.] Man, smell that mountain air. What a great Saturday morning; aren't weekends just the best? | |
When you're uh-unemployed, weekends are meaningless. | |
Right. Right-right. | |
Monday afternoon, South Park Elementary. The dismissal bell rings. | |
And so, children, that's how you tell a prostitute from a policeman. Now, are there any questions? | |
Kyle raises his hand. | |
Yes, Kyle? | |
What the hell does that have to do with American history? | |
Uh, that's a good question, Kyle. Are there any other questions? | |
Mr. Garrison, I'm the only one here. Everyone else has chicken herpes. | |
Right, right. Uhh... Well, class, I'm going to assign you all a paper. The theme of the paper will be, "How I would make America better." | |
What?! Does everybody have to do it, or just me? | |
Uh, don't worry, Kyle. I'm sending homework to all the children who are out sick. They'll have to turn in a paper, too. | |
Hell's Pass Hospital. | |
Homework?! But I'm in the hospital! | |
Well, your teacher sent this stuff over for you to do while you're sick. | |
That son of a bitch! What kind of sick weirdo is he? | |
Now, Stanley, I know at your age teachers can seem cold and heartless, but later, you'll understand that he did this for your own good. | |
Not Mr. Garrison, Ma. He really is a sick weirdo. | |
Yeah, it's-it's true, he is. | |
Oh. Well, anyway, here's a pencil and some paper. | |
Wait! Where are you going? | |
We're going down to-uhh Happy Burger for some milkshakes. | |
Milkshakes?! | |
Yeah, and then we're going to the movies. | |
See ya, son. [They leave.] | |
Weak! | |
Kyle's house. Kyle is on the sofa working on his paper. | |
white" | |
Kyle puts down the pen and paper and walks over to the kitchen. | |
No I don't understand it, Dr. Schwartz, he's perfectly healthy. | |
Sheila is on the phone, Kyle is over by the microwave. | |
He's been over at Kenny's house three days in a row and still hasn't caught the chickenpox. | |
[Softly.] What? | |
I don't know what else to do. We sent the other boys over and they all got sick, but I can't get my little Kyle to catch it. | |
[Frightened.] Oh my God! | |
[Turns.] Kyle, what are you doing there, honey? | |
[Angry.] You! | |
[Subdued.] I'll call you back, Dr. Schwartz. | |
She hangs up. | |
You! | |
[Walks over.] What, bubbeleh, what is it? | |
You sent us over to Kenny's house on purpose! You wanted us to get sick! | |
Oy. It was for your own good, Kyle. I wanted you to get chickenpox while you were young. | |
Why?! So I could be sitting in the hospital waiting to die, like Stan?! | |
Now, Kyle, come here. | |
You get away from me, you crazy woman! | |
He runs off. | |
Hoh boy. | |
Down by the riverside. Stuart and Gerald are fishing. | |
End of Chickenpox |
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Story Elements |
Gerald Broflovski • Stuart McCormick • Frida • Hells Pass Hospital • "In the Ghetto" • "I'm a Believer" | ||||
Media |
Images • Script • Extras • Watch Episode | ||||
Release |