(bell rings) (horn blares) (beeping) (plays saxophone) (brakes screech) D'oh! (screams) (brakes screech) Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH Able 2016 ANNOUNCER: Next on Comedy Central, an all-new South Park. I hear those kids' voices are done by grownups. Hey, there's nothing wrong with that. I just wonder how they keep it so fresh after 43 episodes. I can't believe we paid to see a band with Steve Guttenberg, Calista Flockhart and Farty the Crippled Robot. Look who's in my fart: OJ. Look who's in my fart: OJ. (farts) I'm gonna kill you all. Ah! (singsong): Cartoon violence! Cartoon violence! Now I'm gonna find the real killers. Aah! Aah! Kids, that cartoon's not life-affirming. We're going to watch a show about the everyday problems of angels. ANNOUNCER: Now, back to Good Heavens. Jesus called today. He did? Aah! Aah! I'm bored. Hey, I've got an idea. Let's tie a string around a fly. Cool. Do you think bugs feel pain? If they don't, I've wasted a lot of my life. (buzzing) I wish I could fly. Then I'd be the most popular kid in school. Knowing you, you'd mess it up somehow. (saxophone plays) The fly's stuck in Flanders' house. I'll go contact the nearest adult. There's no time. We're going in. My eyeglass repair kit. Let it go. (buzzes) What do you know, cats eat flies. Sometimes I wish a cat would eat me. Dude, we're in Flanders' house... unsupervised. Wow! Let's go nuts. Bright, brighter, brightest, off. Bright, brighter, brightest, off. (chuckling) That is so gay. (glass shatters) These losers are out of peanut butter. I know how to make some. Peanuts... butter... Now, we just put the top on. Hey, I didn't get where I am putting tops on things. (laughing) Now let's make jelly. (laughing) I feel like luge silver medallist Barbara Niedernhuber. (laughing) (yells) Wow, Mr Flanders is really into the Beatles. What are the Beatles? They wrote all the songs on Maggie's baby records. 'John Lemon, Orange Harrison, Paul McIced Tea, Mango Starr.' Hey, Bart, how about a blast from the past? A 40-year-old novelty beverage? Hand it over. (moans) ('60s music plays) Oh... Yellow matter custard dripping from a dead dog's eye. I don't feel so fab. (retches) Well, the folks at the senior centre sure will love that peach tree we planted. I wish we could see their happy faces. Sin of pride, Roddy. I'm sorry. Sin of regret. (gasps): The house is slightly askew! To the panic room! Daddy, I'm scared. Scared of what? All the funny camp songs we're gonna sing? # We'll be safe inside our fortress when they come # # We'll be safe from creeps and killers when they come # # Unless they have a blow torch or a poison gas injector # # Then I don't know what'll happen when they come # (groans) OK, home invaders. We don't want to hurt you. We just want to talk. Well, if you just want to talk, why don't we talk about Eddie sleeping with my ex-wife. I thought the divorce was final. When is a divorce ever final? All right, let's just move in. (guns cock) (playing static) All right, perps. We know you're in here somewhere. Well, well, well. Looks like a couple of punks are gonna be taking the last train to Clarksville. That's the Monkees, Chief. That's the Monkees, Chief. Go wait in the car. Fine. It was the Monkees. Please don't call our parents. I'm afraid I have to for hijinks like these. Heh. 'Hijinks.' It's a funny word. Three dotted letters in a row. Is it hyphenated? It used to be. Back in the bad old days. Of course, every generation hyphenates the way it wants to. Then there's 'NSync. Ha. What the hell is that? Jump in any time, Eddie. These are good topics. 1 Oh, Ned, I am so sorry. I never knew you were such a Beatles fan. Of course I am. They were bigger than Jesus. But your boy went Yoko and broke up my collection. Hey, boys will be boys. I am so tired of that tautology. It's not all his fault. I blame this latchkey kid. People, people, calm down. Both these kids are total write-offs. Uh, I assume you're pressing charges, because I get paid by the charge. Oh, our courts aren't fit to keep children in line. The only thing they're good for is telling women what to do with their bodies. What these boys need is adult supervision. You are so right, Ned. There won't be a single minute where Bart's not under the watchful eye of myself or... Homer, get over here. (giggling) Look at me. I'm Brian Epstein. Now, I'm Michael Jackson. (imitating Jackson): I own all your songs, losers. Hee-hee-hee. MARGE: Here's some supervised activities we can all do together. 'Future Veterans of Foreign Wars', 'The 5-H Club.' Five-H? They had to admit homosexuals. They had to admit homosexuals. Hmm. How come I'm not doing this stuff with Milhouse? You won't be seeing Milhouse for a while. Something about that boy just shakes up your soda. Ooh, this looks interesting: 'The Pre-Teen Braves.' Hey, these freaks do a lot of cool stuff. 'Cookouts, hay rides, bowling...' Just like real Indians. Dad, maybe you could lead Bart's tribe. You mean like some sort of madman? Ideally, no, but... Ideally, no, but... I'll do it! # I am Homer, Tribal Chief # # I am wearing tiny briefs # # Braves teach values boys should know # # Now extended drum solo # (sticks clicking) (pounding various beats) Hey! I will now give each of you your specially selected tribal name. Pick one. I am 'Burger With Fries.' Man, is that uninspired. Let's see... what Native American activities should we do? Making wallets, faking crop circles... respecting nature? Jeez, no wonder these guys lost the Civil War. Hey, Lazy Horse, find us something cool to do. Mmm... (crowd cheering) (whistle blows) The noble Chiefs outsmarted the treacherous Cowboys with a seven-yard screen pass. Unfortunately, after further review, the great father in the sky determined that the receiver's moccasins were out of bounds. I shall bet no more forever. I don't think Dad is accurately portraying Native American life. Yeah, Indians don't sit around drinking beer and watching TV. I smell smoke. Without the talking stick, we don't hear you. I smell smoke. (screams) I see you braves received our smoke signal. Awesome. Wow. Neat-o. Oh, no. The Pawnee have returned. They probably want their souls back. Wow, Mom, I wish you were our tribe leader. Hail to our new chief, the surprisingly hot Mrs Simpson. Oh, well, thank you. I'm going to make sure you boys have the best possible Pre-Teen Brave experience. But I was chosen by the Great Spirit to teach these young braves the ways of the antelope and the ear of corn,... which we call maize... that the papoose... I'll be at Moe's talking normal. (groaning) Nelson, leggings? No way. If my old man sees me in these, he'll kill me. You haven't seen your dad in years. Hey, today might be the day. MAN: Nelson... Papa, is that you? You came back from the store. (moaning) Who's he talking to? Let's admire Nelson's love of nature. Papa! Papa! Never leave me again. All right, everyone inside. Let's go. (Marge humming) Our nature walk will be hosted by a full-blooded Native American. Say hello to Jim Proudfoot from the Mohican tribe. Mohican? I thought you guys were all gone. (chuckles) No, but we encourage the myth. Chicks really dig you when you're the last of something. Uh... are we on Indian land? It once was. My tribe's land stretched from that Krusty Burger down to Gary's Waterbed Warehouse. ALL: Wow! The great spirit blessed us with beauty and abundance. (birds chirping) The land gave birth to the trees, the animals frolicked in the waters, and the wind was so gentle it would tie your shoes for you. But that harmony has been shattered. And now the land weeps. Hey, treadmill, how do you like this incline? Uh, I'm giving it back to the earth. (yelps) Mm-mm, Mm-mm, Mm-mm... What are we going to do to that field? ALL: Clean it! And why are we going to do it? ALL: Liberal guilt. Yay! I'm so proud of what you guys are doing, I even tipped off the local paper. Yeah, she sure did. And I've already got the perfect headline: 'Activity participated in by some.' Hey, that's great. Let's go, boys. Make sure you use Pine-Sol on those pine trees for that pine-fresh smell. Papa? Oh, for God's sakes, I can see why he left. Now, all of you, get cleaning. (war cries) ALL: Huh? Hey, some jerks cleaned our field. It's awful. It looks like Wisconsin. (bugle playing 'Charge') I hereby declare this area cleaned up by the Cavalry Kids. (grunts) (bugle blows fanfare) Whoops. Ooh, uh... It was already dead. (grunts) Oh... boy, I got up on the wrong side of the futon today. Cavalry Kids? That's pathetic. We're the bad boys of nondenominational community youth groups. Well, surely there's room in this town for two well-meaning juvenile associations. Yeah, but the Girl Scouts already control the south side. Then I guess this means war. Will you be my mommy? (growling) You smell like dead bunnies. (cavalry charge bugle music) Those Cavalry Kids are bigger credit hogs than the Red Cross. I must disagree, Mrs Bart. They've painted this town with a fresh coat of give-a-hoot. Well, you ain't seen nothing till you've seen the Pre-Teen Braves. Pre-Teen Braves? Is this another of those youth groups that apes the cultures of those indigenous peoples you invaded and destroyed. Exactly. The Pre-teen Braves. # Go ahead and hate your neighbour # # Go ahead and cheat a friend # # Do it in the name of heaven # # You can justify it in the end # # There won't be any trumpets blowing # # Come the Judgement Day # # On the bloody morning after... ooh-hoo... # Hey. # One tin soldier rides away. # (shrieking) Hello. I'm heavyweight champ Drederick Tatum, here to issue a challenge to the youth groups of Springfield. Whichever one of you sells the most candy will be honorary batboys at the next Isotopes home game. (amazed gasps) Proceeds will go towards keeping people like me off the street. I can't help myself ` punch and grope, punch and grope, it's all I was taught. This is a perfect opportunity. We'll beat those Cavalry Kids by selling candy. I'm a brick. 'We will crush you and smother your dreams. Yours in Christ, the Cavalry Kids.' Marge, you were an excellent peacetime chief, but these times call for men of cruelty. Oh, it's too tight. Take it off. Take it off. Take it off. Men of cruelty. Heh-heh-heh-heh-heh. OK, Bart, back up the truck. Mr Leonard, Mr Carlson? Would you like to buy some candy bars for charity? Oh, sure. We were just gonna buy the same candy inside the store, but for less. Oh, man, that went south quick. I gotta find a bathroom. Your candy is tainted. The batboy prize is forever beyond your reach. BART: Candy for sale! Get your unpoisoned candy. It's laxative-free for today's lifestyle. Melts in your mouth, not in your pants. Greetings, fellow Springfielders. It gives me great pleasure to announce the group which has sold the most candy. Could everyone please lean forward expectantly? The Cavalry Kids. (cheering) Oh, the indignity. Wait a minute. How could those stupid jarheads win? Who'd want candy filled with laxatives? (all munching) Holy moly, I'm moving like Ginger Rogers. Looks like this is one time the Indians didn't win. (laughing) Well, that's it. They've beaten us. At least we made a lot of people sick. Well, I'm not finished. Where does it say we have to be gracious in defeat? It's on the back of our vests. Marge, remove that stitching. Son, your success has inspired me. I'm gonna take that bartending course, including today's lighter drinks. VIP? That's us. (laughs) People will do anything a sign tells them. Boy, that slaked my thirst. Or did it? MILHOUSE: Dad! we're gonna be late for the game. Do you have five bucks for regular parking? Cos I don't! Welcome fans of America's favourite pastime... baseball? Here to perform the National Anthem are today's honorary batboys, the Cavalry Kids, led by Milhouse Van Houten. (applause) After this prank, everyone's gonna hate those Cavalry Clods as much as we do. (microphone feedback) # O say can you see # # Back in Row Double-Z # # That the team sucks out loud # # And you fans are all plowed? # (gasps, grumbling) This is an outrage. The Cavalry Kids must hate America. Hey, show some respect! My dad died in some war! You call this a large beer? (bugle playing 'Charge') It's a hoax. I'm the real Milhouse. (crowd gasps) Time to knock off this knockoff. Pound him, Milhouse. You talk pretty tough for a man without health insurance. I'm on federal assistance. You lay off my girlfriend's ex-husband. Geez. I don't remember this much bad blood when I was a Cavalry Kid. I was a Pre-teen Brave. Ow! I sang at your wedding. Yeah, 'The Best Is Yet to Come.' Real original. Aw, geez, how did this happen? All I wanted was to glue feathers on felt and teach the boys good citizenship. (sobbing) And now it's a donnybrook! (sobbing) Oh, my God, that's my wife, and she's crying. Huh? Oh, Lassie, dry your tears. Then show us your boobs. Ow! Ow! God help me. Dear God, why are we fighting? I ain't doing any fighting. Let us end this mindless violence and join our hands in song. Aye, not a hymn to war, like our national anthem but a sweet, soothing hymn, like the national anthem of Canada. # O Canada... # BOTH: # Our home and native land # # True patriot love in all thy sons command # # With glowing hearts we see thee rise # # The true north, strong and free # # O Canada, we stand on guard for thee... # Well, Bart, we've learned that war is not the answer. Except to all of America's problems. Except to all of America's problems. Amen. (end refrain to 'O Canada' plays) Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH www.able.co.nz Captions were made possible with funding from NZ On Air. Able 2016 Shh.