Stan, Kenny, Kyle, Eric and butters stand in line for lunch, already having entered the "IN" hall door.

"So, what did you guys do last night?" Kyle asks.

"Nothing much, homework, some video games," Stan replies.

"Hown work," Kenny says in a muffled voice.

"Just homework I'm afraid," Butters says as well.

"Huh. Me, too. I either got to get a life or more interesting friends," says Kyle.

"I was trolling Omegle for boobies," says Eric.

"Cool – did you see any?" asks Stan.

Eric replies, "No, just a bunch of dicks and some chick named SSSniperwolf who pretended to freeze in place while lifting her shirt up; still wanked it though."

One by one they each take a tray as they close in on the lunch guy.

Kyle speaks up, "Everything is kind of boring around here. Whatever happened to the days when we used to go on adventures together?"

"Well, I'm sorry not every day can be an alien taco crapping tacos kind of day, Kyle," says Eric sarcastically.

"It's not just that. We used to talk to way more people. Misses Crabtree," says Kyle.

"Yelling at demons now," Eric comments.

"Misses Chokesondick."

"Choking on angels now," Eric says as he's served lunch.

"Doctor Maphesto, Wendy, Tweek."

"You're seriously not pining for Tweek are you?" Eric asks Kyle.

"No – just saying."

"Who's Tweek?" asks Butters.

"Before your time," says Eric.

"Oh," Butters says as he's served. He then follows them to their usual table.

"And officer Barbrady. Hell, we barely see him anymore," Kyle continues to wistfully speak.

"Kyle, you seriously need to get on Omegle and see some boobs," says Eric.

Once they are all sat, Kyle examines his tray of food.

"Look at this – Grade F gruel, soy milk, one piece of chicken. Over half of it is celery."

Eric adds, "You forgot the flavored cardboard and tomato."

"Why, ah, I think it's delicious – another wonderful Michelle Obahma-approved school lunch," says Butters.

"Why does my tomato have pot leaves all over it?" asks Stan.

"Marvin the starvin' martian probably eats more than this. We're not allowed to have cupcakes, but we get a condom dispenser in the bathroom. I'm six years old – what the fuck do I need a condom for?" asks Kyle.

"I got lots of condoms – they make nifty sling shots!" says Butters.

"Dude, you sound like one of those people who always complain about how much better things used to be," Stan says to Kyle.

"Cupcakes and chocolate milk we're better times. Just look at this shit – none of us are even eating any of it. Not even you, Butters."

"Why, I'm just assuring the garbage man job security, is what I'm doing," responds Butters.

Kyle continues on more, "Remember when we used to walk up to the window, say 'Hey chef' and he'd say 'Hello there, children!' and we'd ask him what was for lunch and he'd reply-"

Stan cuts Kyle off and finishes his thought, "'Salisbury steak with buttered noodles, and a choice of green bean casserole, or vegetable medley'. Yeah, I do remember that. You know, those lunches were better days."

"Weren't they?" Kyle reinforced Stan's comment.

"Oh, man, I'd kill for some buttered noodles. Or a Klondike bar. Probably just a Tic-Tac," says Eric, rubbing his stomach.

"You know, that new lunch guy doesn't even give a fuck about our names. He just slops some pre-made shit on our trays and makes fifteen thousand a year for it. Why do we even get these trays?" asks Stan.

Kyle responds to Stan, "I asked Mr. Mackey the other day and he said the Obahma law requires them to serve it and that we have to take a tray. Don't have to eat it, but have to carry it around like whipped surfs."

Stan looks around at all of them, "Listen to ourselves – lunch used to be that special time of the day we didn't have to learn a bunch of useless crap, now we dread it."

"I don't know if I can take another day of looking at this crap," says Kyle.

"Me, too," says Kenny, pushing his tray away.

"Guys – I know just the thing to cheer us up," says Eric excitedly, widening his eyes.

"What?" asks Kyle.

"Jackin' in the Box."

"Jack in the Box," Kyle corrects Eric.

"That's what I said. Jack in the Box is selling bacon flavored shakes now. We should totally go try them."

Kyle looks uncertain, "I don't know. That sounds like the kind of thing that will either shockingly work or be epically bad."

"Kyle, how much worse can it be than soy milk?" asks Eric.

"He's got a point," says Stan.

"Oh boy – sounds like we're gonna go on a rusty venture!" says Butters excitedly.

"What's a rusty venture?" asks Stan.

"You know, I'm really not sure," Butters replies.

"I can't, I got homework and chores today," says Kyle.

"I kind of need to study after school," Stan says.

"We'll go now," says Eric.

"We can't go now – school is still in session," Stan replies to Eric.

"So? Think about it: you want to sit around here learning about ancient Mesopotamia and how being an American is so evil? Man, fuck that shit. After recess we'll pull the fire alarm: there's only two hours left anyway then. It'll take forty-five minutes to an hour to clear out, count heads, get an all-clear, get back in, and longer 'cause they'll need to check the records of who is in that day and missing from the head count. By that time the busses will be ready to take everybody home and we'll just slip into the bus during the commotion."

"What happens if they don't find a fire and clear it early?" Kyle asks Eric.

"Fine – we'll stick a condom in an outlet," Eric answers.

Stan speaks up, "You know, normally I'm not a fan of your convoluted evil plans, but I am bacon curious. Count me in."

"I guess I'm in, too," says Kyle.

"Me, too," Kenny joins in.

"Say, fellas, can I come along as well?" asks Butters.

Stan tries to let Butters down ahead of time, "Don't get your hopes up, Butters, you'll have to ask Eric and he-"

"Sure, Butters. In fact, I insist," Eric says in a polite tone, patting Butters on the back.

"Huh," Stan comments, surprised a little.

"Oh, boy!"

.

Almost an hour later. The boys hide behind a wall corner leading to the hall where they cafeteria is. Butters exits a nearby bathroom as Eric peaks around the corner. Teachers have lunch while kids are outside during recess, which is nearly over.

"Did you do it?" Kyle asks Butters.

"One condom in an outlet, check. It's already on fire."

The bell rings, signaling the end of recess.

"All right, Butters, pull the fire alarm," says Eric.

"But, why don't you do it?" asks Butters.

"Because, Butters, I'm too big-boned to reach up that high."

"Oh, all right," Butters walks over, reaches up and pulls a fire alarm switch down. The alarm sounds loudly and lights start flashing on the red fire alarm boxes.

"Thanks, Butters – I didn't want to get my finger prints on the fire alarm switch," says Eric.

"Oh, hamburgers," Butters says as they bolt for a door out of school.

.

The boys walk up to a cash register.

"Can I take your order?" asks a guy behind a register.

Eric replies, "Yeah, is Jack in the Box?"

"Ah, yeah," the employee responds.

Eric snickers, "Then you better let him out," then he continues snickering.

Stan speaks up, "Yes, we'll have five bacon shakes."

"Will that be all?"

"That's all."

"All right, five bacon shakes plus tax … your order comes to fifteen dollars and forty-five cents."

Stan counts out sixteen dollars in one dollar bills and hands it over. The cashier makes change.

After a few minutes later the boys each carry their own bacon shakes to a booth.

"It's pretty sweet our moms still give us lunch money even though we don't pay for lunch anymore. I won't even make a joke about how Kenny's mom is too poor to even give him Monopoly money," says Eric.

"Fwuk yu," says Kenny in a muffled voice.

They climb into a booth after setting their shakes on the table, then slide their drinks over once seated.

"Okay, who goes first?" asks Kyle.

"Why don't you?" asks Stan.

"No way – I go first and nobody else will; they'll just wait for my reaction."

"Gosh, it does kind of smell bacony," says Butters, sniffing the plastic lid.

"It kind of looks like miss Piggy in liquid form. I guess she does blend," says Eric.

"Okay, we'll all drink at the same time. Moment of truth, gentlemen," says Stan.

Eric quickly comments, "Over the lips and threw the gums, look out stomach, here it comes."

Stan counts down, "Three … two … one!"

They all drink in unison.

"OH!" says Kyle.

"AGH!" says Stan.

"HUUUUU!" Kenny says, shaking and squinting his eyes.

Eric shudders.

"Sweet virgin Jesus!" Butters exclaims.

They all stare out blankly, with Kyle and Butters looking like they're gonna throw up.

Butters finally speaks, "Wha … where am I?"

"I … I can't remember anything," says Kyle.

"Me neither. Wait – it's starting to come back to me now," says Stan.

Eric chimes in, "Oh, God, it's so awful – it's like someone porked in my mouth."

"Why did we do this?" asks Kyle.

Stan replies back, "I know why – this is Michelle Obahma's fault. If she just allowed us to have chocolate milk like kids have had in lunches for decades, we wouldn't be here drinking Piglet diarrhea!"

"Meanwhile she eats all that high-calorie shit and even said nobody cares what we eat for lunch!" Kyle says angrily.

"If Chef were here, he'd know what to do," says Stan.

"Yeah, it's too bad he's dead," says Kyle.

"Yeah," Stan says sadly.

"Wait a minute, guys. What if Chef wasn't' dead?" asks Eric.

Stan says annoyed, "Ah huh. And what if peanut butter came out of my ass?"

"No, seriously. Remember that sheep scientists cloned? What if we cloned Chef?" Eric suggests.

"Isn't that illegal or something?" asks Kyle.

"Kyle, so is skipping school. We're already in the shit – don't wuss out now," Eric answers.

"But we don't even know how to clone," Kyle replies.

"It's easy; you find a mosquito hardened in sap, suck the DNA out of it, clone it, and hope it's not a dinosaur. We'll use Wikipedia to fill in the holes."

"Okay, but where do we get Chef's DNA? Finding random mosquitoes in sap will take too long," says Kyle.

Stan comments, "Didn't Chef say his DNA was all over town?"

"I don't remember. How about his parents?" asks Kyle.

"They were killed in that car crash leaving his funeral, remember?" Stan says to Kyle.

"Oh, right."

"I know where to get it! Come on!" Eric says, grabbing his shake and pushing Butters out of the way.

"You're taking your bacon shake?" Kyle asks them, noticing they're all doing it.

Stan answers, "We paid a month's worth of lunch allowance for them – I'm taking mine."

They all hop out of the booth one by one.

.

CUT TO: All of them walking up to a receptionist's desk.

The lady behind it speaks up, "Hi, welcome to Whackin' It Sperm Donations Center. Can I help you?"

Eric answers, "Yes, I'd like Chef's sperm, please. To go."

A minute later and the boys are shoved out of the sperm bank by a male employee.

"And don't come back! Until you're eighteen and want to donate. Masturbation is serious business!" he walks back in and slams the entrance door.

"Any other bright ideas, Rosie?" Kyle asks Eric.

"I'm thinking!" Eric answers angrily.

"Wait – where's Butters?" Stan asks.

Then sperm bank door opens and Butters walks out, counting dollar bills, "Do de do, dodilly do."

"Whoa – where'd you get all that money?" asks Kyle.

"Oh, well, ah, turns out there's increasing demand from middle age female school teachers for young pubeless jailbait boy sperm. Who knew."

"Wait … of course! I know exactly where to get Chef's DNA! Follow me!" Eric exclaims, walking off quickly.

"Oh, boy – we're off on another rusty venture!" says Butters.