Tuesday morning: All the kids are lined up for inspection. The door to Eric's shack cracks open just enough for him to slip out.
"Ooohhh," he yawns, "Good morning, Cretans. Sorry for not being so on the ball this morning, but I was up all night deep into Myentology research; I hope to unveil the results soon."
Butters comments, "That's dear C for you, always burning the midnight oil in pursuit of bettering our world!" and then he claps.
"Thank you, C.O.P. Butters. As you know, today is Tuesday – the start of the new week. And what better way to begin the week, but with exciting news. Puddle Org was just the testing level of Ranch Seasoning, a level I am proud to say all of you thus far have passed, as none of you have dropped out. In two weeks all of you will be graduating to the Lake Org, where exciting new learning will occur."
Butters claps and there is some sporadic apathetic clapping amongst the kids.
"At a brand new in-door location."
Suddenly the clapping intensifies and all the kid's faces perk up.
"All of this is due to my tireless leadership and skills developed in and learned from Myentology. Hip hip."
"Hooray!" all the ids say in unison.
"Hip hip," Butters leads off the second one.
"Hooray!" all the kids exclaim in unison again.
"All right, now stand ready for inspection."
Eric whacks his riding crop against a left as he looks them over.
.
Two hours later; the kids are exiting the feeding barn.
"I think I'm starting to see faces in the mashed potatoes; kind of like the poppers from that episode of 'Futurama'," Kyle says to Stan.
"Is it funny that I'm thinking of that comedy song 'The Monster Mash'?" Stan says back to him.
"No, it's not. So, did you get in trouble last night?"
"Yeah. Some little tattling douchebag keeps ratting on me. I swear to God when I find him I'll choke him with his emo hat and beat him with his douchebag selfie stick. Which I assume he has both of," says Kyle.
They near Wendy and Craig at the C.O.C. shack.
"Who do you think it is? I mean, it could be anyone. Except me and probably Kenny," Kyle asks Stan.
"I don't know. First time was at the Dumpings, and we were all there; the second time we were all hiding, so whomever saw it was hidden."
"Hey, what if it's that Breanna chick? Maybe she was put here to monitor us," Kyle speculates.
"So many suspects, but no Tim Curry to help us narrow is down," says Stan.
"Well, just try to not commit any other O/H's," Kyle says as they stop at the C.O.C. shack, "in two weeks out training will increase and who knows – maybe we'll finally get to start helping people."
"I hope so; I don't think I can take much more. I just want to find the weasely snitch bitch and punch him in his dick-nose little face! Oh, hey Craig," says Stan when they arrive at the shack.
Craig nods.
"Oh, that's right – I forgot – you two can't talk while on R.C.M.P. duty. Good. Wendy, just listen; don't say anything or nod you head, that way we can't get in any trouble. I can't be your boyfriend while a Myentologist. We're young and have urges and those urges are getting us in trouble. It's wrong and against the rules; out thing is a forbidden thing. It can never be! Farewell, Wendy," Stan walks away.
"Geez, would you like some melodramatic music to go with that soap opera?" Kyle asks him.
.
Later during P.E.S.T. work. Kenny and Clyde help clean rocks.
"You know, Kenny, I have a theory: Disney cartoons are secretly dark disturbing festish worlds; think about it. Every kids knows about Goffy being a dog who walks on two legs and wears cloths, yet Pluto is a dog who's naked and walks on all fours. And is owned by another animal. But we have to dig deeper than that."
Kenny sighs, "Do we?"
Yes. Yes, we do. So, assuming the Disney Mickey Mouse-verse animals have rights – since they get arrest and go to court – does that mean Pluto is owned kind of like a slave? And since Pluto is much like a real life dog, does it mean Pluto is retarded? Do retarded dogs have no rights, since they get locked up in the pound after being hunted down by a dog catcher? Is that how retarded animals are treated in that universe? And how come Goofy and certain characters wear pants while others – like Daffy Duck, Huey, Louie and Dewey – as well as female ducks – wear none? And how do they re-produce? I don't see any junk flapping in the wind between Daffy's legs. Not that I want to."
Kenny gives Clyde a silent glance.
"Okay, maybe I do. Only to see what accurate duck junk looks like animated. And how come in the Navy Daffy still doesn't have to wear pants? Then there's the issue of shoes; some wear them, others don't. Take, again, Goofy as an example: he gets to wear shoes while the retarded Pluto gets none. Canine inequality is what it is. In that universe, some dogs are more equal than others. Two legs good, four legs bad. So, does that mean other animals are checking half-naked ones out? But wait – it gets even seedier; they also segregate themselves. Mickey has Minney, Daffy has what's her name, Bugs has what's her name. Are there ducks-only water fountains? Is inter-species dating taboo? Does Pluto only get to date other retarded dogs? If Pluto gets another retarded dog pregnant, does that mean the puppies are born owned by another animal? If one of more of the litter comes out intelligent enough to walk on two legs and talk, is he or she still owned? Is it like the dog lottery to be born smart? If two smart dogs birth a retarded dog, what happens to it? You see what I mean?"
"What the fuck are you two talking about?" Stan asks.
"Mind you own business," Clyde says to Stan.
"Gladly," says Stan.
"Anyway, it's a racist world of nudity, and inequality. And how do animals with no genitals reproduce? Why do some have genitals and therefore wear pants? Do duck tits produce milk? I have so many questions!"
"Questions are a burden on others," says Kyle.
"Screw that – I simply must know more about duck tits," says Clyde to Kenny.
"Ask you mama," a random kid says.
"Who said that?"
.
The kids all sit in the final study block of the day. Eric walks in.
"Okay, everybody's T.P.S. reports from yesterday looks good, except Child Kyle and Child Butters; you two need to pay more attention. Today's word ought to help all of you rise to attention: Fornication. Child Clyde, can you use fornication in a sentence?"
"Fornication is a word in the dictionary," says Clyde.
"Good, but next time try a little more imagination. Child Stan, demonstrate fornication for us."
"Nothing's coming to mind," says Stan.
"Surely, Child Stan, you know something about fornication."
Some of the kids snicker.
"I just can't think of an example right now," Stan replies.
"Child Wendy, can you help Child Stan with fornication?"
"Ah, fornication has eleven letters in it," says Wendy.
"Hum, sounds like both of you need to work on fornication. Perhaps you two can Hurdle fornication together later. Child Craig, I bet you know a lot about fornication…"
.
Two days later – Thursday.
Stan and Wendy kiss behind a shed. After a few seconds they stop.
"Oh, Stan."
"Oh, Wendy … I have something to tell you…"
"Really? You're not going to Picard me, are you?"
"Huh?"
"Where you're gonna say something but stop short of it because of an interruption," Wendy says.
"Oh. No, I'm really going to say it this time. Wendy…"
"Yes?"
"I…"
"Yes? Yes?"
"Lo-"
HHHOOOOONK! An air horn blows loudly, jolting Stan awake.
"Wakey, wakey," says Butters. He looks around and says to Stan, "Oh, Stan, looks like you wet yourself a little."
Stan's bloodshot eyes tremble.
.
Later during P.E.S.T. work. On-by-one kids pass rocks to each other from piles of clean ones, to a small group building the wall while putting cement under each. Eric slowly walks the line, whacking a leg side with the riding crop; the reflections of the kids and land can be seen in his high-polish sunglasses.
"Wipin' the sweat from my brow, Commissioner," says Kyle.
"Wipe the sweat, Child Kyle."
"Whew, can I get some water Commish?" asks Craig.
"Get some water, Child Craig."
Craig walks to a cooler filled with ice water nearby; the rocks continue passing to the wall.
"Taking my shirt off, Commissioner," says Stan.
"Take your shirt off, Child Stan."
Stan takes his short off, which is damp with sweat. Craig re-joins the line.
Butters comes jogging over to Eric, "All good so far, E.T.C.; no problems and work ins preceeding steadily."
"Good, good."
Butters makes his way back to the wall.
"That's some fine rock passing, Cretans," says Eric.
"rock and roll, gents," Butters says to the wall builders.
"I fucking hate rocks now," Clyde says to Kenny.
"Is it a wide-reaching rock conspiracy?" Kenny asks Clyde.
"No, just a bunch of un-adopted fucking Pet Rocks."
Eric turns around and walks back up the line.
"Use the holes, Commissioner?" Breanna asks.
"Use the holes, Child Breanna."
Breanna walks quickly to the holes.
"I wanna see those bushes shacking…" says Eric.
"Yes, Commissioner."
Eric continues slowly walking the line and looking over to see the bushes shake occasionally.
"Child Kyle, fetch me a sweat rag."
"Yes, Commissioner," Kyle says and dashes off.
Eric looks over to see the bushes shaking. Kyle dashes back over. Eric takes the rag and wipes his face as Kyle gets back into line. Eric then starts wiping his neck; as he does so, he looks back over and sees the bushes are not shaking.
"Shake those bushes, Child Breanna."
Nothing happens.
"Shake those bushes I say!"
The kids stop and look over with curiosity. The bushes still do not shake.
"C.O.P. Butters!" Eric yells; he then runs over to the holes, with Butters running over as well.
Eric runs behind the bushes to the holes and sees fishing line tied to a bush and leading into the forest.
"Butters! She's Blowing!"
"Don't we have to be 18 or older to see that?" Butters asks.
"Hurling, Butters!"
"Oh."
"Watch the other S.C.U.M. and make sure they don't Blow either!"
"Yes, Commissioner!" Butters jogs off as Eric waddle-runs into the forest, following the line.
"Child Breanna! Come back! You can't leave without doing a Blow Screen!"
He works his way into the forest some, pushing brush and limbs aside.
"Goddamnit I hate nature. Come back here!" he listens and hears some faint movement off a ways; he makes a finger gun and points, "Pew! Pew pew pew! Pew!" he stops, "Damnit, I missed. Agh! Fine then! Don't come back looking to better yourself through Myentology!"
He growls as the reflection of the forest is seen on his glasses.
.
As the last kid walks off for Shore Leave, Eric unbuttons his shirt some and turns to head to his shack.
"Goddamn Cretans running away and shit. Gonna have to put fucking electric dog collars around their necks…" he removes his glasses and rubs his eyes as he walks, "I swear to Zod, if I get one more surprise today…"
"Eric…"
Stunned, Eric stops dead in his tracks, mere feet from his shack. He sees Gerald standing there in military camouflage, arms folded, back against the shack.
"Mr. Broflovski," Eric says; it's then he notices the shack door is cracked open some.
"Gerald says, "We have to talk…"