The boys stand at a tall pair of wooden double doors. Eric knocks and then waits patiently. When there is no answer, he tries the doorknob and finds it unlocked.
"After you, Butters," says Eric.
"Okay," Butters walks in first.
They eventually make their way to a large room full of odd gadgets and machinery.
"Hello? Anybody there?" asks Stan.
Kyle calls out, "Doctor Maphesto? Hello?"
"Oh, hello, boys," Maphesto walks out from behind an old and very large computer station, "what brings you here?"
"We need your help cloning," Kyle replies.
"Ah, yes, yes, of course. My, it seems like forever since the last time we spoke."
"We've been leading very complicated lives," says Kyle.
Eric asks, "Doctor Maphesto, I seen to recall you collected town people's DNA. Is that correct?"
"Why, yes – I keep a vile of everybody's blood on file courtesy of the hospital. Every time there's a false panic of something, be it Mad Cow disease or Bird Flu, people inevitably flock in to be tested. If that Mad Cow doesn't get you in there, the West Nile will. Eventually you'll willingly be tested and then your DNA and blood will be mine. After the government gets some. Why do you ask?"
"We need Chef's DNA so we can clone him, like that sheep," says Kyle.
"Ah, I see. Ha! They said I was crazy for keeping a vile of everybody's blood in case of emergency, but now I get to clone a dead person. Who's crazy now?!"
"Where's your little assistant?" Stan asks.
"Oh, well, my genetically engineered giant dingo ate him."
"So, can you help us?" Kyle asks Maphesto.
"Absolutely. I'll just need to synthesize more of his blood, top off my extra large 3-D printer, and power on the heinie-berg compensator since it'll start out with his ass."
"Great. So, can we sit and wait?" Kyle asks.
"Boys, the human body is a complex system of DNA, neurons, dense tissue, hundreds of muscles, lots of snaking veins – it'll need at least twenty-four hours to print out. Come back after school tomorrow."
"Sure thing, Doctor Maphesto!" Stan says happily.
"Bye!" says Kyle.
"Tootilu!" says butters.
They turns around and head back through the house to the front door.
Maphesto thinks aloud, "Okay, now to render a big penis in 3-D. Never thought I'd have to do that again."
.
The boys once again stand in line, having suffered no consequences after making it back in time for the busses the previous day.
"Oh, boy, Eric, isn't it exciting? We get to go on a rusty venture!" says Butters excitedly.
"What the hell is a 'rusty venture' anyway?" asks Kyle.
Stan replies, "I think that's the name for when you jerk off so much your dick gets all red and sore," he picks up a lunch tray.
"Oh," says Butters.
Clyde speaks up to Butters, "What? Didn't' you already ask me that?"
Butters turns around, "Ah, I don't think I did."
Clyde replies back, "Once again, what you do is you take a scuba snorkel and you put your cock on the bendy mouth part and you snake the other end right back up the other entrance, okay? Then what you do is you grab the middle of that snorkel and you're fucking your own ass and pullin' the cock and yourself at the same time until you blow in your own anus."
"Ew," says Kyle.
"Clyde – you're one weird bastard," says Eric.
Clyde speaks again, "So, does anybody need to borrow a snorkel?"
"No!" says Kyle.
They once again reach the lunchroom worker who quickly fills their trays with the shitty lunch food.
"Hey, lunch dude," says Stan.
"Huh?" finally making eye contact with the boys.
"Can I get something other than soy milk?" Stan asks him.
"Absolutely. How about a nice refreshing Zema?"
"Besides things that'll fill me with regret."
"Ah! I got just the thing for you – New Coke!"
Stan stares back blankly for a few seconds, then apathetically replies, "I'll take the soy milk."
"Excellent choice," and with that he immediately looks back down and continues dispensing food like an assembly line worker in a factory.
"Thanks," says Stan sarcastically.
One by one they each dump their trays of food into a big trash container and then place their trays in the empty tray slot, except Butters. they sit at their usual table, with Butters sitting next to Eric.
"Butters, what the hell? You're not actually gonna eat that, are you?" asks Eric.
"Oh, no. I'm just so hungry I want the illusion of real food in front of me."
Kyle comments, "I'm starving – it's like a food desert in here. I'd kill for a Klondike bar."
Eric also comments, "Man, I'm so hungry I'd clone my parents just to chop then up and make food out of them again and feed them to myself. With some fava beans and a nice chianti."
"If I had my bacon shake with me right now, I'd totally drink it again," says Stan.
Kyle looks at him, "What did you do with yours?"
"I kept it. I paid over two fifty for that damn thing," Stan replies back.
"huh. Me, too," says Kyle.
"I put mine in the fridge when I got home and forgot about it," says Butters.
"Trashed mine," says Kenny.
Then Eric also comments, "I saved mine. I'll probably go out tomorrow and see if I can get a homeless guy to buy it off me for a buck. Probably film him drink it and put it on Youtube."
"Well, I say we bring ours to Doctor Maphesto so he can feed one of his genetically engineered abominations before God creatures some nutrients. Who knows – maybe for them it's like Wheeties."
.
Later that day after school. The boys wave to Timmy, who has just dropped them off at Maphesto's place. Timmy rings his tricycle bell and drives away with his red wagon hooked to the back.
The boys help themselves in, as the front door is once again unlocked.
They finally reach Maphesto's large laboratory. The 3-D printer finishes up, making sounds like an old 1980's electronic printer and moving just as slowly. Each time it stops, it sweeps back, sounding like an old-fashioned type writer. It finally stops.
"Doctor Maphesto?" asks Stan.
"Oh, hello, boys," he walks out from behind the computer again, "Sorry about that – this thing keeps blowing vacuum fuses. Ah – my clone is done!"
"Cool, is he ready?" asks Kyle.
"He should be. He finished an hour ago – the printer was just putting on some finishing touches based on old photographs."
"Cool. We picked up an extra chef hat from school and found his old cloths at the Goodwill store – turns out people don't want to buy the cloths of a dead man," says Kyle.
"Excellent," Maphesto walks over and takes the apparel, "I'll just wheel him into the next room and get him dressed," he puts the cloths on top of the big printer, then reaches down and unplugs it. He pushes it away into the next room on its wheels. A minute of so passes.
Stan calls out, "Doctor Maphesto, we brought you these bacon shakes to feed your mutants."
Maphesto calls back, "Thank you, boys, just set them on the table next to my volatile flask of acid and flimsy container of powdered Anthrax."
"No problem!" Stan calls back.
They set their bacon shakes down on the table. A few seconds later Maphesto walks Chef out.
"Oh my God – Chef!" Kyle shouts.
"Hey Chef!" they all call out, except Butters, who was never originally with them when they used to do that.
"Hello," the Chef clone speaks.
"Wait, that's not right – he's supposed to say 'Hey there, children'," says Stan.
"And what's with the black sunglasses?" asks Kyle.
"Ah, well, he's never used his eyes before and they need to adjust to the light. As for his vernacular, I inputted a few basic responses and what else I could recall him saying and from news videos. Chef, say something familiar."
"Buttsex? Who's talkin' about buttsex?"
Stan says, "It's really him! Chef, can you come back to work and cook us food again?"
"Hello," Chef clone responds.
"Huh? What gives?" asks Stan.
"Oh, well, boys – he's an empty vessel. Without any writing or the real Chef's brain to transfer data from, this Chef clone will have to re-learn everything the other Chef knew; only without the same life experiences, he'll come out a different person. It'll never really be the Chef you once knew."
Eric exclaims angrily, "What a gyp! We gotta keep eating that fucking shitty Michelle Obahma food, watch after a mindless clone, and we still don't get Chef back? This sucks."
Maphesto adds, "And you'll have to change his adult diaper and potty train him."
"Agh. Let's face the facts, guys: Chef's dead and we'll never get him back, and we never should have tried to play God," Kyle hangs his head down in sad disappointment.
"If only we could travel back in time and bring back the real Chef," says Eric.
"Suck on my chocolaty salty balls – put 'em in your mouth and suck 'em!" Chef clone suddenly exclaims.
"Wait – Doctor Maphesto – do you have a time machine?" asks Stan.
"Sorry, boys, not yet. But maybe you still can travel back. Do you have a laser pellet key chain shooter with an artificial computer program in a credit card that can transmit a tone that sends people to the future?"
"What?" Stan says confused.
"Hum. Well, do you have an interstellar starship you can slingshot around the sun?"
"No," says Stan.
"Yes," says Eric.
Kyle punches Eric in an arm.
"Damn – I sold mine on eBay two years ago. Do you have a Delorian with a flux capacitor in stalled?" Maphesto asks.
"Ah, no," Stan again replies.
"Damn – always wanted one of those. Do you at least have a multi-sided sphere powered by alien fuel?"
"No," Kyle says in a frustrated voice.
"Well, that's gonna be a problem then," says Maphesto.
"Huh. Who knew time travel would be so hard," says Stan.
"Well, what do you have?" Maphesto asks them.
Eric responds, "Kenny and bacon shakes. Damn – I need a life, too."
"Hummm…" Maphesto rubs his bushy eyebrows instead of his chin, "That might work!"
"What?" asks Kyle.
"Boys, have you actually ever drunk the bacon shakes?"
"A little," Kyle replies.
"Yeah, they're horrible and gave us temporary memory loss," says Stan.
"Exactly. Bacon shakes are an extremely powerful liquid capable of permanently erasing your long-term memories. Almost no one has actually drunk a whole thing of it, except that crazy homeless guy in the park. Now he spends his days huffing paint, defecating in his pants, and voting Democrat."
Butters exclaims, "Oh, God – that horrible!"
"Hold on – you're saying we can time travel with bacon shakes?" Stan asks, making sure he heard right.
Maphesto replies back, "Absolutely. On their own they're just a powerful anal and mental enema, but when properly powered they should bend time and space."
"How do we do that?" Kyle asks.
"We'll just need a controller to reprogram, and some neodymium magnets."
Stan says, "We don't have any neodymium magnets – they cost too much."
"You are all in luck – it just so happens I have some in the tips of my shoes. They said I was crazy for putting magnets in my shoes and selling them to people, but just look at how many paper clips I've picked up with them. It's made my friend James Randi's life so much easier."
Stan says with passion, "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go back in time and get Chef!"
Kyle interjects, "Wait, wait, wait – isn't that altering history and creating a temporal paradox?"
"Kyle," Eric says annoyed, "Do you wanna alter history and suffer the unknown consequences or keep eating Michelle Obahma-approved school lunches?"
"I'm saying, if Chef never dies, then think of all the trouble it will cause. And if he doesn't die, we may never end up in a position to want to travel back in time to get him," says Kyle.
"Well, boys, if that were true, you wouldn't be here right now. So, you either went back in time and got him, or you went back in time and let him die."
"Then it's pre-destined, but which one do we pick?" Stan asks the rest of them.
They all think for a few seconds. Maphesto again rubs his bushy gray eyebrows.
"Guys – I got it!" says Eric.
"What?" Kyle asks excitedly.
"What if we could do both?" Eric suggests.
"How?" asks Stan.
Eric replies, "Brace yourselves, guys – I've got a mental boner."