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At the bus stop, Stan, Kyle, Kenny, and Cartman are waiting for the school bus. They're silent until Kenny breaks the silence. “You guys ever wonder what it would be like if Quebec split with Canada and Cartman became the dictator?” Cartman sighs. “I would never step foot in that place, it's filled with French people.” Stan raises his right brow. “You guys gonna fight again?” Cartman rolls his eyes. “It's better than hearing about Kyle complain about Mr. Garrison.” Kyle furrows his brows. “It just doesn't make sense. How can America forget rights are important?” Cartman steps away. “Oh no, no, no, no, no. I'm sick of it. Screw you and your Garrison complaints!” Kyle lifts his arms. “No! People are letting democracy slip away!” Cartman covers both his ears. “I can't hear you, Kyle!” “Who cares if you didn't want to vote,” Kyle continues. “You helped screw the planet!” “No, Kyle, I said I can't hear you,” Cartman continues. “That means be quiet. Just talk about cats or something, jeez.” Kyle looks at Stan. “At least you'll listen to me, Stan.” Stan shrugs. “I do, but I'm kinda burnt out. The rich just don't care about us. I'll keep up with the news, but I'm not interested in it anymore.” Kyle sighs. “I see what you mean. I'm just scared of what the next four years are gonna bring.” Stan shrugs. “Well look on the bright side. Garrison won't be inaugurated officially until he does the oath of office thing.” Cartman, still covering his own ears, shuts his eyes and walks around in a circle. “La la la, Stan and Kyle are bitching again, la la la.” At South Park Elementary, later, the boys are walking along the hallway as their fellow kids put their bags into their lockers. Cartman sees Wendy, then speaks to her as he walks by. “Mr. Garrison is president again! Get fucked, Wendy!” Wendy furrows her brows, then turns to face him. “If more Democrats had voted, Hitler wouldn't be in the White House!” “Uh oh! Wendy alert!” Cartman says as he continues walking. Butters speeds up to Cartman, stopping him as Stan, Kyle, and Kenny continue walking. “Eric! Have you watched Squid Game 2 yet?” Cartman punches Butters in the face. “Blep,” Butters says as he's knocked backwards. He hits the floor, unmoving. Cartman continues walking. Wendy looks at Butters, then at Cartman. She then looks at Bebe with furrowed brows. “How much do you think it would take to bring down all the douchebags in town?” “Just some videos I guess,” Bebe says. “Yes, that'll do,” Wendy says. “Cartman is a kid. He's always being punished,” Bebe says. “It's less about Cartman and more about those who haven't been punished,” Wendy says. Later, in the Capitol Rotunda, CNN, among other news outlets, is covering the inauguration of President Herbert Garrison. Garrison, who has an orange facial spray-tan, yellow wig, and suit, walks down the alleyway with Rick, who's wearing a black hockey helmet. “As you can see, President Herbert Garrison is walking down the alleyway with his boyfriend, Rick,” a reporter says off screen. “Everyone is cheering. This includes special guests, Elon Musk, Jeff Besos, and the CEO of Google… I'll need to Google his name… they're all here to suck up to Herbert Garrison on this very chilly day in Washington.” Garrison stops as he reaches a priest in the center of the room. He turns to face him. The priest sighs. “Please put your hand on the bible,” he says. Garrison grits his teeth. “I couldn't fulfill my promise last time, why would I this time?” He hovers his hand above the bible. The priest looks down at Garrison's hand, then back up at his eyes. “Repeat after me.” Garrison puts on a straight stank face. “Repeat after… wait no, jeez, sorry.” The priest reads. “I do solemnly swear…” Garrison retains his stank face. “I do solemnly swear…” “That I will faithfully execute the office of the President of the United States…” the priest continues. “That I will faithfully execute the President of the United States,” Garrison continues. “The office of the President of the United States, Mr. President,” the priest says. “Right, right… The office of the President of the United States,” Garrison continues. “And will do the best of my ability to preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States,” the priest continues. “And will do the best of my ability to persevere, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States,” Garrison continues. The audience cheers. Some distance away, four cannons go off, celebrating the swearing-in of the president. An hour later, Garrison is at the president's desk in the Oval Office, signing an executive order. “What's this one for?” Garrison asks. “Just tell me, I got a date with Rick tonight. Tacos.” Two advisors are standing in front of his desk. The one on the right speaks. “That one's for reopening the border camps.” Garrison signs the document. “Uh huh.” He grabs the next booklet, then opens it. “Now… how about this one?” “That's for withdrawing, as you worded it… the Liberal Dick Sucket… from the Paris Climate Agreement,” the advisor on the right says. Garrison signs the document. “I sure hate the French.” He grabs the next booklet, then opens it. “This one?” “Renaming the Gulf of Mexico,” the advisor on the left says. “Nice,” Garrison says as he signs the document. Hours later, Garrison is standing by the window behind his desk, looking out at the sunset. Rick is sitting on the couch, using his phone. Garrison sighs. “Rick… why am I even doing this?” Rick raises his right brow. “Because you were put off by immigrants.” “Okay, but, sometimes I feel like I don't want to do this, and sometimes I feel like I do want to do this,” Garrison says. “Maybe it's something deep in your psyche you need to figure out,” Rick says. “Deep in my psyche…? I don't know. It's like I'm battling myself,” Garrison says as he turns to face Rick. “I can't do MAGA stuff, but I desperately want to. There's a thrill to it. But then there's this other burning question… why would most of America vote for a chud like me?” “Well, like Beyoncé said… America Has A Problem.” “Things can't get that bad, right? I'm not that off my rocker.” “You do get pretty intense sometimes.” “I couldn't have screwed up the country that badly, right?” “You'd be surprised.” “I'll just follow my instincts, and see how this goes. It'll go smoothly.” At South Park Elementary, the school day is out. Kids are beginning their walk home. Wendy catches up to Butters as he begins his walk. “Hey, Butters. I need to talk to you about something.” Butters stops and turns to face her. “Sure, what's up!” “Butters, how often do you get beaten?” Butters’ smile fades. “I-I don't know, Wendy. I'm just not good at competitions.” Wendy raises her right brow. “Huh? No. I mean… how many times do people punch you in the face…” Butters twiddles his thumbs. “I-I don't have time right now, Wendy. See ya.” Butters walks away. “Right,” Wendy whispers. Garrison's sitting at his desk, head buried in his hands. Rick walks up to him. “Gary? What's wrong?” Garrison sighs. “I fucked this country beyond repair, I enabled the worst of the worst.” “Wasn't that your main policy?” Gary asks. “Not to this extent,” Garrison says. “It's over, Rick. I can't resign, or else I look like a jackass. I can't stay in office, or else I look like a jackass.” “You can fix this,” Rick says. “Elon Musk did a Nazi salute, and he did it passionately,” Garrison says. “This country is fucked beyond repair and it's all because of me. All I wanted to do was get rid of some immigrants.” Rick sighs, then walks out of the room. “How can I fix that?” Garrison hears his own voice. “Oh, get your head up. We need to fulfill our promise!” Garrison lifts his head to see an imaginary version of himself, standing in front of his desk with furrowed brows. Garrison raises his right brow. “Wh-who are you? Who let you in here?” “You're the one not letting me in,” Garrison's imaginary self says. “But you're in my office right now,” Garrison says. “You know what I mean,” Garrison's imaginary self says. “We have business to take care of. We need to fuck the Canadians, Mexicans, Panama people, and Greenland people!” “I don't know how off the rails I want to go,” Garrison says. “What happened to you? What have you been doing the past four years, sucking up to Rick?” Garrison's imaginary self asks. “No!? I was fucking him too! That counts as fucking, just not to death!” Garrison says. “You need to fuck him to death! Never forget the death!” Garrison's imaginary self says. “He's one of the good ones, though!” Garrison asks. Garrison's imaginary self rolls his eyes. “No? He's a pussy! And remember what we do to pussies!” “We both have dicks, there are no pussies around to fuck the dicks!” Garrison asks. “Aww, are you defending him?” Garrison's imaginary self says. “I guess you do have a pussy… and it's shallow!” “Don't insult my imaginary pussy!” Garrison jumps over the desk and tackles his imaginary self to the floor. At the Stotch home, that night, Butters is walking down the stairs when his Dad stops him. “Oh no, Butters! You're going right back to your room!” Butters lifts both his brows. “What'd I do this time?” “I spat my gum out and missed the garbage can!” Stephen says. “That can only mean one thing! You moved the garbage can so I'd miss it!” “You bought gum?” Butters asks. “Don't change the subject, mister!” Stephen says. “You're grounded!” Butters turns and walks back upstairs. In his study, seconds later, Stephen gets onto his computer, then navigates to a counter labeled “Butters grounded count,” which sits at 455. Stephen changes the number to 456. “Butters should start paying the bills.” In a bush across the street, Wendy sets up a drone. She pilots it up out of the bush, then across the street to Butters’ house. She watches the drone's recording on her phone. The drone flies around back, then approaches the closest window. It's Butters’ room, but Butters isn't in there. The drone flies over to the next window. It's Stephen's room, where Stephen is smiling as he jacks it under his blanket to a porno on his laptop. “Ew,” Wendy whispers. The drone descends to the window below. It's the kitchen. Linda is sitting at the table, texting on her phone. “Anything?” Wendy whispers. She flies the drone back around, then into the bush. The next day, Garrison is sitting at the end of a table occupied by his Presidential Cabinet. “Gentlemen, America is under attack. There are gangs committing crimes in our streets… schools giving sex changes to kids, and trust me, losing your balls is not worth it even when you get them back… and we have four years to change things.” Elon Musk raises his index finger high above his head. “Unless we keep use of those vote-counting computers! Republicans will be in office for eternity!” “No, no, let's not. If people find out about it, the army has the constitutional right to throw me out and nobody will trust the Republicans again,” Garrison says. RFK Jr. furrows his brows. “Don't be afraid! The press isn't here, they can't hear us.” “For now, let's just focus on renaming the Gulf of Mexico and buying Greenland,” Garrison says. Garrison's imaginary self pops up to his left. “Come on, rig the election! Accuse Democrats of doing it… then, when they figure out it's what you're doing and call you out for it, you can claim they're deflecting!” Garrison sighs. “Go away. I'm doing a thing here.” Garrison's imaginary self stands back. “Oh, sorry, didn't know I was getting in the way of your throbbing pussy.” Garrison furrows his brows. “That's enough!” Garrison's imaginary self smiles. “Elon is going to be a better president than you. He's a shlong!” Garrison turns to face his imaginary self as his cabinet members exchange looks of concern. “I will be a great president!” Garrison's imaginary self chuckles. “Oh, am I getting to you? Sorry, it's just that I smell a Herbert queef.” Garrison's face turns dark orange. “Get out of here you orange mistake!” “Fine, but things better be back to normal when I get back.” Garrison's imaginary self vanishes. Musk leans forward. “Garrison, are you alright? You're talking to yourself.” Pam Bondie rolls her eyes. “Don't worry, it's probably just hallucinations. I get those all the time. By the way, don't I look just like Paris Hilton? Selfie!” Bondie takes out her phone, then snaps a selfie. Garrison scratches the back of his head. “I-I need to go take a shit.” Garrison exits the room. In the hallway, he looks around for a psychiatrist. His aide steps out of the bathroom. “Aide dude, where's the psychologist? I'm freaking out!” The aide raises his right brow. “Mr. President, you got rid of the White House psychiatrist.” Garrison turns around. “Oh, jeez.” “What do you need him for?” Garrison turns to face him. “I'm having odd hallucinations.” The aide scratches his head. “Don't ask me for help, I'm not being paid to do so.” “I'll give you a thousand,” Garrison says. “I have enough money,” the aide says. “Jeez!” Garrison continues to run. That night, Wendy sneaks up to the Stotch home's right-most ground-level window, holding her phone. She sits beneath the window, and listens in. She can hear some arguing, so she hits record and puts her phone up to the window. Inside, Stephen is standing by the couch, Butters stands in front of him. “You need to smarten up, young man! This is the 457th time you're being grounded!” Butters, twiddling his thumbs, attempts to string a sentence together. “But I, but I, but I, but I… you killed a bug, so I could too…” “Are you defending the killing of a harmless creature? That's it mister, you're getting the belt!” Wendy, continuing to film, raises both her brows. She bites her lip as she hears Butters being slapped. He's then slapped again and again and again. “Jesus Christ,” she whispers. “Hey, is someone out there!?” Stephen asks. Wendy gasps, then runs. She takes a left on the sidewalk as Stephen opens the front door. He looks around for the snoop, but can't see much in the darkness of the night. A moment later, Wendy runs into her home. Breathing heavily, she runs upstairs, then into her room. She shuts the door, then navigates to Instagram. “Okay… select video… selected… caption… share this video and expose this asshole… hashtag asshole… post.” She takes a deep breath. “Now things can start to change.” At the Stotch home, Stephen is watching TV when he hears sirens blaring from outside. He gets up, then walks over to the window. A police car is parked right outside his home, and two officers are walking to his door. He raises his right brow. He opens the front door as the officers near. “What's happening, officers?” The officer on the right holds up some handcuffs. “Mr. Stotch, we received a shocking video of you and your wife beating your child. You're under arrest.” “What? I- who was filming? Jesus Christ!” Stephen says as the officers walk up to him. He's cuffed, then walked over to the police car. “Someone was snooping on my property! Don't you want them too?” Linda walks out. “Stephen? What's going on?” The officers turn their heads. The one who cuffed Stephen points to Linda. “There's Linda Stotch.” The other officer approaches her, holding handcuffs. “Ms. Stotch, you're going away for a long time.” Linda gasps. “What? Why?!” “For beating your kid.” “That was a one time thing!” Linda is cuffed by the officer. “No!” The next morning, Mr. and Ms. Testaburger are sitting on their couch. They had just watched the report about Stephen's arrest on Channel 9 News. “Wow, I did not expect that to come out about them,” Mr. Testaburger says. “You really never know who people truly are,” Ms. Testaburger says. At South Park Elementary, moments later, the kids are putting their bags in their lockers. As Butters walks to class, Kyle catches up to him. “Hey, Butters, I heard about your parents… you can come live with me if you want to.” Butters furrows his brows. “Nuh-uh” Kyle raises his right brow and stops walking. “Huh?” He catches up to Butters. “Is their something wrong?” Butters walks in silence. Kyle stops again, both brows raised. Stan catches up. “Hey, Kyle, how's Butters doing?” Kyle shrugs. “I guess he doesn't want to talk right now.” “It looked like he was mad at you,” Stan says. “B-but… no. That's impossible,” Kyle says. Wendy walks up to Stan, straight-faced. “Hey, Stan. We need to talk.” Stan smiles. “Sure, what's up?” “Stan… remember when you… oh, I can't do it. Sorry, I'll tell you later.” She walks away. Stan’s smile fades. “I did something?” Stephen and Linda sit in a jail cell. Stephen on a bench, Linda bawling her eyes out on the ground. “Hey,” Gerald says. Stephen looks out of the cell. The parents of Kyle, Kenny, Clyde, Cartman, Craig, Tweek, Wendy, and Bebe are standing by the cell. “What are you guys doing here?” Mr. McCormick points at Stephen. “What is wrong with you, Stephen? We're not supposed to hit kids! It's child abuse!” Stephen raises both his brows. “I-He asked for it! I wouldn't have done it if he didn't ask for it!” “We need to protect our kids from harm!” Sheila says. “It looks like you're incapable of that!” “Butters is going to have a social worker take care of him until he can get new parents!” Tweek's dad says. Stephen gets up, facing the group. “Okay, that wasn't me! Or Linda… It… It was AI generated! Watch it again and you'll see!” “Then why didn't anything in the video look like it was actually cake?” Mr. McCormick asks. “And why weren't there any random inconsistencies?” Ms. Testaburger asks. Stephen's face goes red. “You people suck! This is why I voted for Garrison!” “Aww!” The group wails. “Of course you did!” Mr. McCormick says. “You're a disgrace to this town, Stotch!” “Go ahead and shoot me in the back since you all hate me so much,” Stephen says. “Someone else will probably do that,” Ms. Testaburger says. At the Stotch home, Butters is sitting on the edge of his bed with a dark-haired male social worker in a suit. The worker is leaning towards Butters. “So, Butters, are you comfortable telling me the things your parents have done to you?” Butters looks into the social worker's eyes. “Y-yes, I know I can trust you if you're a social worker.” “Alright, go ahead,” the social worker says. Butters twiddles his thumbs. “Well, my parents do things like put macaroni in milk and blame it on me. The-then they ground me. And sometimes they beat me, like you saw.” The social worker writes in his notebook. “Alright, orchestrated punishment.” He then looks at Butters. “Did they only use the belt? Or were there other methods?” Butters continues to twiddle his thumbs. “W-well, sometimes they'd spank me. Some other times, they'd send me to bed hungry.” The social worker takes notes. “Spanked… sent to bed hungry…” He looks back at Butters. “Now, how often did this abuse happen?” “It has to have been a couple hundred times by now,” Butters says. The worker takes notes. “A hundred times…” “Hey, is it okay if I told you some of the stuff my friends do?” Butters asks. The social worker looks Butters in the eyes with raised brows. “Yes, of course! What's going on?” “Well… one time, Kyle threatened to call my dad if I didn't tell him where some… well, I forget what it was specifically, but Kyle wanted to know where something was… if I didn't give it to him, he'd tell my dad.” The social worker raises his right brow. “And he knew your dad was abusive?” “Yes, I've told him. He's seen it too!” Butters says. The social worker takes notes. “Okay…” He looks back at Butters. “Alright, we're making some good progress here. Let's keep going.” At Tegridy Farms, the next morning, Sharon, Stan, and Shelley are eating breakfast when Randy walks in. “It fucking sucks! Another one down!” Sharon looks up from her plate. “Someone died?” Randy looks at her. “No! Someone got put in prison for 5 years for one mistake!” Sharon furrows her brows. “You better not be talking about Stephen and Linda Stotch.” “Uh, duh I'm talking about Stephen and Linda Stotch! What is wrong with people!? Just move on!” Sharon gets up. “They beat their kid! Does that not bother you!?” Randy steps back. “Oh no, don't tell me you're part of the woke mob.” Sharon sighs, then returns to her plate with her brows still furrowed. “Dad just keeps getting worse,” Shelley says. “Just eat your food, we'll get this sorted out,” Sharon says. In the cafeteria, at lunch, Stan, Kyle, Kenny, Cartman, Clyde, Craig, Tolkien, and Jimmy are sitting together at their table, discussing social media. “I don't know what to do, you guys,” Jimmy says. “X, Instagram, and TikTok are all owned by b-b-b-billionaires who sell out to Nazis.” “Google too,” Craig says. “Seriously. What is going on?” “I'll tell you what's going on,” Kyle says. “5 Million Democrats didn't show up to vote, and now we have Nazis-” “Meeeeeeeh,” Cartman whines. “Now we have Nazis in the White House-” Kyle continues. “Meeeeeeeeeeeh,” Cartman whines. “Would you stop it?!” Kyle asks. “This is serious!” “Yeah, I thought you hated Garrison,” Clyde says. Cartman looks at Kyle, then Clyde. “Meeeeeeeeh.” “Spotify, Amazon, and Apple back Garrison too,” Tolkien says. “You can't be an ethical consumer anymore.” “Well, we can stop it!” Kyle says, standing on his seat. “Everyone! Times have been dark… but we can change things! From now on, let's boycott all these dirty billionaires, and send a message! We don't like fascism!” Mr. Mackey starts speaking over the PA system. “Kyle Broflovski, please come to the principal's office. Kyle Broflovski, thank you.” “This must be my cue!” Kyle smiles. In the principal's office, moments later, Kyle sits on a chair in front of the principal's desk. “What did you need me for?” Kyle smiles. “Mr. Broflovski,” PC Principal asks, “Were you, or were you not, aware of the abuse Butters Stotch has been suffering?” Kyle's smile fades. “Oh, yes, all that stuff is terrible. I hope he's able to surround himself with good people.” “Uh huh, well can you take a look at this, please?” PC Principal asks. He turns his computer monitor to face Kyle, then turns up the volume. There's a CCTV video from a hospital room. Butters is on the bed. Kyle, Stan, Tolkien, Kenny, Craig, and Jimmy stand beside. “I didn't want to have to do this, but if you don't tell us, I'm going to tell your dad-” The video lags. PC Principal turns the monitor back to face him. “Oh, it's lagging again. Well, anyway, Butters believes you are an abusive asshole for doing this. What do you have to say?” Kyle has raised both his brows. “I mean… that was important, and the ends justify the means…” “Enough! You don't get to enable abuse just because you had good intentions. Nothing cancels out bad intentions or hurt. All feelings are valid. You must apologize to Butters and swear, to him, you will never do anything like that again. Got it?” Kyle tilts his head in confusion. “I… I got it… yeah…” Back in the cafeteria, moments later, Kyle is back in his seat. “Apparently the ends don't justify the means, and I need to apologize to Butters.” “Well, looking back, it was a sh-shhitty thing to do,” Jimmy says. Kyle raises his right brow. “What? But the ends-” “They don't, Kyle,” Clyde says. “There are better ways to deal with things than threatening others with abuse.” “Okay, so… what if I was just bluffing?” Kyle asks. “It'd be a pretty tasteless bluff,” Stan says. “But-” “Kyle, you can't use someone else's abuse as a tool,” Craig says. “If you ruined my life without my consent, fuck your greater good. I don't have a life anymore against my will. Just be ethical, dude. Apologize to Butters.” Kyle catches up to Butters as he puts his trash in a garbage can. “Butters,” Kyle says. “I'm sorry for threatening to call your dad that one time. I got too egotistical and thought that I could do anything to save the world and be hailed a hero. I can't claim to be a good person if I'm not.” Butters smiles. “Just don't be a Garrison again, and we're good.” “I promise, Butters,” Kyle says. Back at the table, Stan gets a notification from Randy. He opens the message. There's a video. The thumbnail shows Randy and Stephen smiling together, high, in the barn. Stan taps the video. The video begins with a view of Tegridy Farms from the front. “Attention everyone! Tired of people being ruined over a tiny mistake? Then try the new Anti-Woke Special!” Randy says. The special pops up in its jar labeled with the special's name. The video cuts to the interior of the barn, where Randy and Stephen are high off their asses. “Hello, I'm Stephen Stotch. I got put in jail for one mistake, and now, thanks to AI… I get to be in this spectacular ad. Wanna hear from the actual me?” The video cuts to Stephen in his jail cell, grabbing the bars as Linda continues to cry on the floor. “Hello, I'm… the real Stephen Stotch? Of course I'm real,” Stephen says. “Just go with it,” Randy says offscreen. “Please try the new Anti-Woke Special! The secret ingredient is the love of violent intensity that'll abuse your system! Okay, but… thank you, Randy, for defending me.” “That wasn't on the page,” Randy says. The video cuts to a view of Tegridy Farms from the front, at sunrise. The special's jar is plastered on the screen, rotating. “What the hell, dad?” Stan whispers to himself. In the Oval Office, Sean Hannity is interviewing Garrison. Both are sitting across from each other on the couches. Hannity leans forward. “Mr. Garrison, what is your opinion on Canada threatening to cut off electricity to northern US states in response to your tariffs on 25% of their goods?” Garrison's imaginary self leans in towards Garrison. “Call the Canadians maple-licking canucks.” Garrison nods his head left to right. Garrison's imaginary self furrows his brows. “If you don't do what I say, I will keep harassing you. I'll haunt your dreams, bitch. Now do it.” “Mr. President?” Hannity asks. “The reason for these tariffs is to show Canada and Mexico they're worthless,” Garrison says. “Canadians are… maple-licking canucks, and Mexicans are filthy tacos.” Garrison's imaginary self rubs his hands together. “Oh, now we're getting somewhere.” “Mr. Garrison, you said you'd fuck every illegal immigrant to death upon making eye contact,” Hannity says. “Can you explain what you mean by that?” Garrison's imaginary self leans in towards Garrison. “You know what to say.” “It's… just… you can look at them and you just know they're illegal,” Garrison says. Garrison's imaginary self smiles. Hannity smiles. “I whole-heartedly agree with you, Mr. President. Now, do you think China is spying on American children?” “No,” Garrison says. “I'd say they only want to spy on Democrats.” That night, Garrison is in his nightgown, climbing into bed, when his imaginary self jumps under the covers. “Haha, you lose!” Garrison furrows his brows. “Get out of there, this is my bed!” “Mine now, pussy!” his imaginary self says. “If you don't get out, I'll deport you!” Garrison says. “That only applies to Democrats, remember?” his imaginary self asks. “What if I was crazy enough to murder you?” Garrison asks. “Well, first of all, I'm a figment of your imagination… Second of all, if you killed me, the Democrats would celebrate like how we celebrate the murder of minorities. Remember Kyle Rittenhouse?” “I don't need to! Get out!” Garrison pulls his blanket off his imaginary self. He grabs it by the hands, then pulls it off of the bed. It catches its balance on the floor while Garrison climbs into bed. Garrison's imaginary self rolls his eyes. “Okay, okay. I'll sleep in your darkest memories, then.” Garrison's imaginary self disappears, then Garrison gets comfy under the covers. “I need to figure this out.” At Tegridy Farms, the next morning, Stan exits home with his school bag on. He notices Towlie carrying a suitcase, walking towards a grey Uber. Stan, raises both his brows, then catches up to Towlie. “Towlie? Where are you going?” Towlie stops walking. “I'm not working with an abuse-enabler!” “You don't need to go! We need more good people to counter the bad ones!” “Stan, all I do is get high, and getting high is all about peace and love!” Towlie opens the Uber's rear passenger door. “I'm sorry, Stan. This is goodbye.” Towlie hops in, then shuts the door. As the Uber rolls away, Stan looks on with concern. In the barn, Randy is organizing the special jars on a shelf when Stan walks in. “Dad, why are you supporting a child abuser!” Randy turns to face Stan. “I don't support the abuse, I just don't support ruining someone's life over one thing that's hard to control.” “He beat Butters over a hundred times, Dad! And… hard to control? He should stay in jail if he can't control it!” “He can admit it was wrong,” Randy says. “The news said he denied doing it!” Stan says. “He's an abusive piece of shit, Dad!” Randy furrows his brows. “Your generation is so soft! Go find a different family if you don't like this one! All you liberals just sound like this: blabble blobble bloo!” “If being against violence is soft, I don't know what to say about you.” Stan exits the barn. “I'm losing my family,” Randy speaks to himself. “Looks like I need to invite some people over… for a Republican party.”
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In the cafeteria, at lunch that day, Wendy chats with her friends at their table.“You guys, I brought down Butters’ parents! Who should I bring down next?” Wendy asks.“Stan,” Bebe says.Wendy’s smile fades. “Okay, I know he has flaws, but…”“You two aren't good for each other at all,” Red says. “He dumped you for money, before.”“But then he… showed me he still respects me by coming to watch Girl’s Volleyball,” Wendy says. “Wait, no… that doesn't matter, does it… he still does shitty things that make me uncomfortable.”“Break up with him, Wendy,” Heidi says. “You don't want to go through what I did.”Wendy gets up, then walks over to Stan’s table. “Stan… I need to tell you something.”Stan smiles. “Sure, Wendy.”“Stan, I can't be with someone who'd bail on me for money, then expect to take me back when he failed to make money. You're just like all those greedy billionaire Nazis,” Wendy says.Stan's smile fades. “Are you… breaking up with me? Again?”“I'm not sorry, Stan. It doesn't even stop with me. You used Butters for profit, laughed at others’ exposed secrets until one of your secrets was exposed, you pretended to care about Butters during the Pandemic… your ego gets in the way quickly. You're worthless. Goodbye,” Wendy says. She walks away as Stan looks at the ground, getting lost in thought about Wendy.“Aw damn, now I can't make fun of Stan for having a girlfriend,” Cartman says.Jimmy raises his right brow. “Huh… it just sank in, fellas. Why did we leave you guys off the hook after the Startup company thing?”“Probably the cake,” Cartman says.“It was pretty good cake,” Clyde says.Tolkien looks at Clyde, Craig, and Jimmy. “Should we… break up with them too?”“What? You don't have to do that. We promise not to do anything like that again,” Kyle says.“Just remember all the good we've done,” Kenny mumbles.“And all the funny stuff too!” Cartman says.“Thinking about it… it just leaves a sour taste in my mouth,” Jimmy says.“You guys are pretty loud and obnoxious,” Craig says. “I can't believe I'm finally saying this, I'm gonna bail for the sake of my mental health. Everyone else should too.”“You guys are just now realizing you should avoid them?” Heidi asks. “They still hang out with an anti-semite racist!”Cartman looks at Kyle. “She's talking about you Kyle.”“I don't know,” Clyde says. “I just never put much thought into it until now.”“We should leave,” Craig says, before getting up and walking away. Clyde, Tolkien, and Jimmy follow him.“Is it bad I kinda agree?” Kenny mumbles.“What?” Kyle asks. “What do you hang out with us for?”“You and Stan! But I realize I have the right to leave. Cartman is a maniac and Stan is becoming one You don't wanna associate yourself with that,” Kenny mumbles. He gets up, then walks away.“Now he's poor AND has no friends,” Cartman says.“Maybe he's right,” Kyle says. “Unless I can fix you, Stan. I'm your friend. We can work through your ego later.” He gets up and walks away.Cartman looks at Stan. “At least I have you, Stan.”Stan continues to look at the ground in sadness. “I… I need to go.” He gets up and walks away.Cartman looks around, then climbs up onto the desk. “I'm the king of this desk. Butters, you will serve as my loyal servant. Come over here.”Butters is sitting with the girls. He turns his head to look at Cartman, then gives him the finger.Cartman raises both his brows. “Damn.”At the barn, that afternoon, Randy is stuffing a jar with Marijuana when Stan walks in, pouting. “Dad, why do girls blame people for their egos?”Randy turns to face Stan, jar in one hand, Marijuana in the other. “Sounds like you're coming around.”“I mean… if money and praise feel good… you need it,” Stan says.“Yes…” Randy says.“It's not worth losing a girl over,” Stan says.“But you've lost her, so…” Randy says.“Yes, so who cares?” Stan asks.Randy smiles. “Yes, son.”Stan furrows his brows. “Just fuck the whole world! Wendy was my everything! Then she got all squishy!”“So now you're anti-woke!” Randy says.“What? No! Wendy isn't going to take me back! She's squishy!”“Well, we'll work towards it. You already have the feeling women owe you something, and that they should let your eyes and wallet wonder. Anyway, meet my new tester, Darryl,” Randy gestures to Darryl, who's high off his ass.“I can see wind and smell colours,” Darryl says.“Wasn't he at the Capitol Riots?” Stan asks.Randy smiles. “You mean… isn't he backed by billionaires like Mark Zuckerberg, Jeff Besos, and Elon Musk?!”Stan walks away.Randy's smile fades. “We'll get there.”“What? I can't hear you, the air is too loud!” Darryl says.In the Oval Office, the next day, Garrison is sitting at his desk, on the phone. Garrison's imaginary self is standing by, holding a gun to his head. “Hello, Prime Minister Frederiksen of Denmark. I… ask you to hand over Greenland and allow me to make it the 51st state.”“Mr. President, we've told you time and time again that Greenland is not for sale,” Prime Minister Frederiksen says.“Uh… I…” Garrison hesitates. Garrison's imaginary self places his hand on Garrison's head, then Garrison's face turns dark orange. “Listen here, dumbfuck cumslut! Greenland is mine and I'm gonna annex it, make it the 51st state, fuck everyone there to death, then take your man!”“I… don't wish to anger you, Mr. Garrison. Greenland is not for sale. Goodbye,” Prime Minister Frederiksen says. She hangs up. One of her aides, the one standing to her left, scratches his head.“Should we… release that phone call?”“No,” Frederiksen says. “Just tell people how angry he was. Our citizens wouldn't know how to handle what he said about me.”A national news channel in Denmark reports on the phone call. “Breaking news, Prime Minister Frederiksen has just received a nasty phone call from US President, Herbert Garrison. Garrison called to ask her once again to hand Greenland over to the United States. When Frederiksen told Garrison Greenland is not for sale, he grew agitated and expressed a wish to annex Greenland.”A Danish man, in the usual Danish get up- overalls and a red cone hat, is watching the news on his TV with furrowed brows. “We will not stand for this!” The man walks out of his home. “En junker red ved juletid,” he sings.Every other resident on the same street, each having seen the news, have marched out of their homes, and sing in unison. “Tjing tjang tjing nutilej!”Moments later, a crowd has gathered at Copenhagen Square. People are tossing American flags into a bonfire. “Tjiing tjang lu, tjing tjang lu, tjing tjang tjing nutilej!” they sing in unison.Meanwhile, at Tegridy Farms, Randy takes mail out of his mailbox. When he turns back to walk back to the house, he notices “Nazi enabler” “KK-K.” and “Richer” spray painted all over it.“Wha-? Who…” Randy walks into the kitchen as Sharon and Shelley are eating breakfast. “Did you two see anybody outside last night?”“No, why?” Sharon asks.“Somebody spray painted profanity on our house! Calling someone a Nazi!” Randy says.“Maybe your ties to MAGA set them off,” Sharon says.“You guys need to tell me right now, am I a Nazi enabler?” Randy asks.“Well, you still praise Elon Musk like all the other MAGAts,” Sharon says.“And you still praise the MAGAts,” Shelley says.“First of all, I’m only in it for the money… second, it was a Roman Salute,” Randy says.“It seems pretty hard to ignore you guys at this point,” Sharon says. “I wonder what would happen if liberals started buying guns to defend themselves from you guys.”“You liberals are always so violent!” Randy says.“Right,” Sharon says. “The people who want gun restrictions are violent.”“You just suggested shooting us!” Randy says. “What's happened to you?! And how are you so calm? That pisses me off!”“People just don't want another violent insurrection or another act of police brutality,” Sharon says.“And now that the Nazis are going to turn this country into 1940s Germany, we need to defend ourselves!” Shelley says.“Oh, okay, Ethel Cain,” Randy says. “Why not turn yourselves into the cops for wanting to shoot people?!”“All I'm saying is… self defense is important right now,” Sharon says.“So where's the line, huh?” Randy asks.“If you need to defend yourself, do it.” Sharon says. “When the only option for change is violent opposition… do it.”“The line is unnecessary violence,” Shelley says.Randy sighs. “How can you be so calm!? Are you planning something? Huh? Are you planning an insurrection against me in my living room? You want to yell, don't you!?” He turns around, then walks upstairs. In his room, Stan is sitting on the edge of his bed, crying. Randy opens the door. “Stan? What's up bud?”“I miss her, dad,” Stan says. “I can't think about anything else but her.”“Well… just be yourself and don't let people tell you to change,” Randy says, standing at the door.“But I need to change to get her back, and I just can't for some reason,” Stan says.“You liberals don't make any sense! You were just crying fuck the world and now you're sucking up! Gawl!” Randy walks away.“No, yeah!” Stan says, furrowing his brows. “Why feel bad if I can't change! It's not like Wendy hasn't done anything bad… I just need to prove it and show everyone!”That night, Kyle is lying on his bed, studying, when he gets a call from Cartman. He answers with furrowed brows. “Cartman, I can't talk to you right now. I'm letting things sink in.”“So, you guys were perfectly fine with being around me… but now you aren't. Let me ask you this, Kyle. Where's your line?” Cartman asks.“I'm figuring it out,” Kyle says.“Well, one day I'm going to get you guys,” Cartman says.“Bluffing isn't going to work,” Kyle says. He hangs up, then mutes Cartman. As he goes back to studying, he gets a call from Stan. He answers. “Uh, what's up?”“Are you free to hang out?” Stan asks. “I need to get my mind off Wendy.”“Stan, Wendy was right,” Kyle says. “You do let your ego get in the way of things, and unless you fix that, I don't know if I can be around you anymore. You used to care. Deeply. Now you're just in it for yourself.”“Fuck you, Kyle!” Stan says. “In fact, you're a hypocrite! You probably still hang out with Cartman!”“I'm letting things sink in,” Kyle says.“Uh huh, like you'd ditch that racist piece of shit,” Stan says.“How about you?” Kyle asks.Stan hangs up.“This is how it ends, huh,” Kyle says as he goes back to studying. As he reads his textbook, Ike walks in wearing a white shirt with the red Canadian maple leaf on it and holding an iPhone.“Kyle, look! The protests are still going!” Ike walks over to Kyle, then shows him a video on the phone. In the video, dozens of Canadians march down Yonge Street in Toronto. They all sing in unison. “You don't want no problem, want no problem with us! You don't want no problem, want no problem with us! You can have Drake, you can never have Alessia!”Kyle smiles. “Cool! It's amazing to see a nation stand up for itself against Garrison.”In his room, the next day, Stan paces around by his bed, wondering how he can taint Wendy’s reputation.“Dumping me for Tolkien? No, that was her choice. Somebody told me she got one of our substitute teachers launched into the sun… no way I'm proving that. There was also… no. Hmm…” Stan stops. “Wait… the old village robbery… I got it!”In the Oval Office, the next day, Garrison sits at his desk, dumbfounded as he listens to his imaginary self speak.“And those Colombians will suffer! I don't have to worry about the damn Panama people, because Greenland will be the 51st state! Canada the 52nd!”“I thought Canada was going to be the 51st,” Garrison says.“Either way, US borders will be expanded! Then we'll annex Denmark! Cuba! the United Kingdom, Australia, Colombia, the Bahamas, all those Central American bologna nations, Haiti, Puerto Rico, Jamaica, and then the Dominican Republic! With that, America will have expanded borders and 69 states!”“Sometimes I can't tell if this is all just one big troll,” Garrison says.“Part of me believes other cultures are complete mustard, but another part of me just wants to watch the world burn. I can even do it literally by not providing aid to California!”Garrison raises his right brow. “If you make these countries states, that would give Democrats an advantage. Wouldn't that bother you?”“Ever heard of… Walmart death camps? It's simple, we round Democrats up and stuff them into big box superstores!”“You… can't be serious… again,” Garrison says.“Oh I am, and you and I are just getting started!” Garrison's imaginary self walks up to Garrison with his hand raised, ready to place it on Garrison's head. Garrison jumps out of his seat.“I'm getting the hell out of here!” Garrison runs around his desk, then over to the doors.Garrison's imaginary self furrows his brows. “Get back here!”Garrison runs along the hallway. His imaginary self turns at an intersection, blocking his path. “Where ya going? I just want to come inside you.” Garrison turns around and runs the other way. He runs into the oval office, then shuts the doors. He locks them, but when he turns around, he sees his imaginary self sitting at the desk. He unlocks the door, then runs back out of the room. He runs to the front door, but his imaginary self pops up in front of it. “Is your brain made of bologna? You know I'm a figment of your imagination, right? You can't escape me!”Garrison stops, then sighs. “Right, right, right. You are just a figment of my imagination… but what the hell do you want me to do about it?”“Let me in. That's all I want.”“But we'll destroy the country…” Garrison says.“The country has always been flawed. Slavery, KKK, Segregation… we just shut up because the majority was against us. Now we're no longer afraid. Together, we will make America great again!”Garrison furrows his brows. “Unless I shoot myself.”“The Democrats will dig that…”“Wait… maybe I can count on somebody else to shoot me,” Garrison says. “There's a deranged lunatic somewhere… Maybe Kyle. At that point… you'll know you aren't invincible.”“Yeah, then he'd spend the rest of his life in prison!” Garrison's imaginary self says.“You don't have to pay taxes in prison!” Garrison says. “It'd be heaven!”Garrison's imaginary self furrows his brows further. “If you don't let me in, I'll torment you at every waking moment! Every sleeping moment too! I will also stop you from feeling good! So help me god, I will make sure you never nut again! But I guess you'd prefer to mock me… I get a kick when people who didn't even vote complain about my victory in the election. If they're gonna cry about the end of democracy, they might as well blame themselves too. Where did 5 Million Democrats go? Timbuktu?”“Wait a minute,” Garrison whispers to himself. “Those fuckers helped. No, don't let your emotions guide you… aw…” Garrison runs into his imaginary self, who then fuses with him. Garrison goes wide-eyed, then furrows his brows. “It's time.”Hours later, Garrison speaks at a rally in Las Vegas. “If you voted for me, get fucked! I'm going to fuck all of you to death!” The crowd cheers. “I'm also gonna fuck every one of the people who chose not to vote in 2024… whether it was apathy or you think your vote doesn't matter and that you're the only one whose vote doesn't matter… congratulations, you put Nazis in the White House! You're all getting fucked! We're going to fuck the Canadians! Fuck the Colombians! Fuck the Danish! All those immigrants? Fucked! Dead! And we're renaming the Gulf of Mexico to the Gulf of America! And the Atlantic Ocean to the American Ocean!” The crowd continues to cheer.At a similar rally in Reno, hours later, Garrison continues his rhetoric to a cheering crowd. “FOX News? Fucked! CNN? Fucked! Those billionaires who are sucking up to me… I'll go to each of their houses with a strap-on! And I will not wash it in-between fucks! Sure, all humans are equal… but some are more equal! All I'm gonna do tomorrow is golf… this shit is fun, but jeez.”At the bus stop, the next morning, Stan, Kyle, Kenny, and Cartman are standing far apart from each other. Kenny looks at the other three. “Hey, wait? What'd I do?”“I don't know Kenny, you just suck,” Cartman says. “They fine with hanging around you and now they aren't.”In the school cafeteria, at lunch, the boys are sitting with Craig's gang.“So, Clyde. Do you listen to Sabrina Carpenter?” Cartman asks.Clyde, eating a sandwich, furrows his brows, but avoids looking at Cartman.“What's in that sandwich Tolkien?” Stan asks.Tolkien furrows his brows, then looks at Clyde, Craig, and Jimmy. “There has to be somewhere else to sit. Away from these douchebags.”“You guys have me,” Kyle says.“Enough with that egotist bullshit!” Craig says. “People will come to you when they need to.”“Okay, but you gotta admit it's better… because Cartman is right beside me,” Kyle says.Cartman looks at Stan. “Stan, you said you wanted to… drop a bombshell?”Stan gets up onto the table. “Everyone, listen! Please. I have evidence Wendy Testaburger is a bitch!”The girls look at Stan. Wendy furrows her brows. Everyone has gone silent as they focus on Stan.“Back when we were all held up by armed robbers at a stupid olde village, I played along and saved everyone! You know what Wendy does? I recovered this footage that was taken by a security camera!” Stan presses play on his phone, then holds his phone in the air. He spins around so everyone can catch a bit of the footage.“Stan, you were really brave in there, but you did kind of sound like a big dork,” Wendy says. “I know,” Stan says.Stan pauses the video. “I saved everyone and she had to push a judgmental opinion onto me!”“I was talking about the townsfolk!” Wendy says. “They were risking people's lives to stay in character!”“Yeah, criticize them, not Wendy!” Bebe says.“Okay, but who calls the hero a dork?” Craig asks.“Fuck you, Craig!” Bebe says.“Fuck me? Fuck you!” Craig says.“You can't say anything, Bebe!” Stan says. “You wanted to shoot Wendy and I over a pair of shoes!”Wendy looks at Bebe. “Ugh, how could I forget?”“Oh, sorry for wanting to look good as a girl,” Bebe says. “By the way, Craig, Jimmy, and Tolkien? Let it sink in that Clyde got egotistical about being rated cutest boy. You know who else gets egotistical? Stan, Kyle, and Cartman. Wendy too.”Clyde looks at Craig, Tolkien, and Jimmy. “But… I haven't gotten to that point since.”“Still a r-r-red flag,” Jimmy says.“Fuck you, Jimmy! You used steroids to cheat!” Clyde says.“Not cool, Jimmy!” Stan says.“Sit down, Stan, you thought my name was Token,” Tolkien says.Cartman raises his right brow. “Is it not?”Kyle looks at Cartman with furrowed brows. “No, you racist piece of shit! I should've stopped talking to you in kindergarten!”“Come on, Kyle,” Cartman says. “You kick babies. Everyone's right… you have a big ego that needs to be checked. Maybe consider not ditching me as well.”At recess, a bunch of the kids are on their phones. Stan plays basketball with himself while Bebe plays hopscotch with herself.At Tegridy Farms, that night, Randy is hosting a Republican Party. Outside, a group of rednecks shoot female dolls, another redneck is chasing Sparky the dog around not too far away. A banner hanging from the roof of the farm house reads “3-Day Republican Party!”Inside, a dozen rednecks are occupying the living room. Some are drinking while already stumbling around, others are high off their ass, and one is pissing on a picture of Kamala Harris. In the kitchen, a dozen rednecks are chatting with each other by the counters while four play shoot the plate in mid-air with shotguns.Back in the living room, Randy gets up onto the couch with a microphone in hand. “Alright, fellow Garri-sons! We've been partying for a good day now, the rest of my family is wussing it out with my dad, we're going to get the Stotch's out of prison, but now it's time for me to sing a song I wrote. This is… This Is How Liberals Sound. Ding dong dibble dabble, Dibble dabble ding dong. Dong dong ding, Frizzle frazzle fuzz. Blap blop bleep, Fee bee bee. Fab Fab Fab-”The rednecks go straight-faced. The drunk one raises his fist. “We wanna hear Tom MacDonald!”“Woo!” the others cheer.Randy's smile fades. “Okay but… my song?”“Mac-Don-ald! Mac-Don-ald!” the drunkard chants.The others chant along with him. “Mac-Don-ald! Mac-Don-ald!”Randy looks around at all the cheer. “How am I supposed to get Tom MacDonald?” He pulls out his phone, then calls President Garrison. The call goes straight to voicemail.“This is the President. If I don't answer the phone, I'm busy fucking an immigrant to death.”“Damnit,” Randy says. “Maybe Mr. White can help.”Meanwhile, Mr. White is upstairs, puking into the toilet. Randy walks in. “Hey, uh, Mr. White? I need you to tell me how I can get Tom MacDonald to perform here.”Mr. White pukes again. “I don't drink enough. Uh, Tom MacDonald? You'd have better luck getting the QAnon Shaman.”“We can think of something… like… maybe this party will be on the news! It's a 3-Day Republican Party!”Mr. White pukes again. “There's no way. It would be a dream.”“Well I promise you we will get Tom to perform here,” Randy says. “Even if I have to cut off my balls to do it.”In the school cafeteria, at lunch the next day, the kids are silent. Some eat in silence, others are staring at each other with furrowed brows. Stan stares at Kyle, who's focused on his pizza. Wendy stares at Bebe, who's focused on her sandwich. Heidi stares at Cartman, who's focused on a taco. He looks up at Craig's gang's food choices, noticing sandwiches and pizza. “What happened to Taco Tuesday? Jesus.”Strong Woman and PC Principal stand by the door. Strong gestures to PC Principal. “You see? They're just silent and some of them look pissed.”PC Principal shrugs. “They're just kids. Whatever's happening, it'll all blow over by Thursday.”In shop class, later, Mr. Adler addresses the kids front and center. “Alright, kids. Quickly, I would like to know how much you've learned about the tools you're using. This is important, as it will tell me how much you kids understand about safety. First, the hacksaw. What do you use the hacksaw for?”All the kids raise their hands. “Eric, I'm taking anymore answers from you. How about Wendy?”“Bitch,” Cartman says.“It's used to cut Cartman's balls off,” Wendy says.“Okay, seriously! What's it for?” Mr. Adler asks. “Bebe?”“Cutting Wendy's head off,” Bebe says.“No!” Mr. Adler says. “Clyde?”“Cutting Craig and Tweek's heads off,” Clyde says.“Okay, we'll get back to this one later,” Mr. Adler says. “Can you kids tell me what the Circular Saw is for? Craig?”“Sawing off Stan's arms so I can feed them to wild bears as Stan watches?” Craig says.“Heidi, what's it for?” Mr. Adler asks.“Cutting Cartman’s head open,” Heidi says.“Stan?” Mr. Adler asks.“It's for cutting Kyle a new one,” Stan says.“Amazing,” Cartman says.“Kenny!” Mr. Adler says.“Cutting stuff,” Kenny says.“Good, and how do you stay safe while using one?” Mr. Adler asks.“By not using one,” Kenny says.“No, you stay safe by not putting your hand on the blades,” Mr. Adler says. “What else? Kyle?”“Cutting myself,” Kyle says.“What? No!” Mr. Adler says. “What's wrong with you kids? You don't harm yourself with these things!”“Is that a challenge?” Cartman asks.Mr. Adler facepalms. “Jimmy, give me a safety tip.”“It's generally recommended not to use it too close to other people, as you're supposed to cut tree wood, not human wood,” Jimmy says.“You know what? I'll take it,” Mr. Adler says.Next class, the kids are writing papers while Mr. Mackey tries to pry open a box of cookies. Cartman looks at Tolkien’s paper, then copies off of it. Kyle catches Cartman, then furrows his brows and looks at Mr. Mackey. “Mr. Mackey! Cartman's copying off of Tolkien!”Mr. Mackey stumbles backwards onto the floor as he continues his attempt to pry the box open. “Come on, you motherfucker, m'kay?”Cartman smiles. “Mr. Mackey's ignoring you because you're Jewish.”Kyle glances between Cartman and Mr. Mackey. “Mr. Mackey! Cartman needs to be locked away!”“Yeah, when's that going to happen?” Wendy asks.Bebe furrows her brows. “You need to be locked away for calling everyone ugly!”“I told you, I was saying it was okay to think you're ugly,” Wendy says.“Shut up, everyone!” Clyde says. “If you don't, I'll start throwing things!”“There goes Clyde again with that ego,” Craig says.“There goes Craig again with that… with that buttface voice!” Clyde says. “He needs to go to jail!”“Isn't anybody concerned about the president and all the countries he's pissing off?!” Tweek asks.“Tweek, you're probably an asshole too,” Clyde says.“Cartman's the biggest one! Aah!” Tweek says.“I wanna punch Cartman in the face so bad,” Craig says.“Then do it, Craig… punch me in the face,” Cartman says.“Someone else will do it for me,” Craig says.“Uh huh, everyone thinks that,” Cartman says. “I can get away with whatever I want.” He looks at Wendy. “Wendy, you're a whore.” He looks at Clyde. “Clyde, you have one testicle. You are an inferior species.” He looks at Stan. “Stan, you've failed your relationship three times. You're such a cunt-eater.” He looks at Kyle. “Kyle, you're a smelly jew. Are you ready for the return of the Nazis? I know I am.” Kyle looks at Cartman with furrowed brows, then jumps onto him, tackling him to the floor. The other kids, except for Craig and Butters, get off their seats, then walk up to Cartman to help beat him.Mr. Mackey, still on the floor attempting to get the box open, realizes what's happening, then gets up. “Woah, woah, kids! Stop fighting, m'kay?” The kids continue to beat Cartman, who's squealing like a pig, as Craig and Butters cheer them on. “Okay, that's enough! You kids stop fighting right now!”“I think that's enough,” Bebe says.“Tell me about it,” Wendy says.Bebe punches Wendy. Clyde punches Craig. Kyle punches Stan. Everyone is throwing punches at each other while Cartman wails on the floor.“Why do you kids hate each other all of a sudden?!” Mr. Mackey asks.“We let things sink in,” Craig says. “Kyle does shitty things like enabling Butters’ abusers, Wendy does shitty things like calling people ugly, Stan does shitty things like letting his ego get in the way of things.”“Bebe would shoot someone over shoes!” Heidi says, pulling Bebe’s hair.“Okay, you guys… you're just children! None of you no better yet! But you'll learn!”The kids stop, then look at Mr. Mackey. “Huh?” Craig, Butters, and Red ask.“As you kids get older, you will have a better understanding of what's right, and what's wrong. You will get more mature,” Mr. Mackey says.The kids exchange looks, then let go of each other. “I told you guys I grew,” Clyde says.“And even if you do whatever it was you did again, as a kid, it won't matter unless you're putting someone in physical danger and aren't defending yourself. When you're an adult, be mature. Don't cross people's boundaries. Trust facts. And you can defend yourself against adults who threaten your safety, m'kay?” Mr. Mackey asks.The kids apologize to each other while getting back to their desks. Cartman is lying unconscious on the floor. Stan looks at Wendy. “So, Wendy, are we…”“No, the breakup is final,” Wendy says.“So you didn't listen to what Mr. Mackey said…” Stan says.Mr. Mackey looks at Stan. “Stan, if she doesn't want to be with you, I can't argue against it.”Stan looks at Wendy, then furrows his brows. “How are you so calm?”Wendy sighs. “I'm too tired of your selfish bs to care anymore.”At Tegridy Farms, that night, the Republican Party! is going into its third and final night. A police car is parked on the sidewalk. Inside, two police officers are leading a tonga line with the others as the song “Follow The Leader” by The Soca Boys plays.A latin man wearing a Latinos For Garrison 2024 shirt opens the front door, holding a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon in his left hand. “Hello, I brought some booze!”Everyone raises their right brows at the man. Moments later, he's being carried into an ICE van by ICE agents. Nearby, Wendy pokes her head out of a bush. She sneaks into the barn, startled by Dyrrl, who's high off his ass. “Wee! The colors are clashing with the smells!” Wendy spots the marijuana jars. She grabs one of the Anti-Woke Special jars, then speeds outside. “Hey, what the hell was that? That sounded like the Witch of Bitch! Begone colourdemon!”Wendy runs over to the doormat at the front entrance of the farmhouse, where she places the jar. She knocks on the door, then runs off. The door is opened by Mr. White, who smiles as he sees the jar. “Thank you, Randy.”Moments later, Wendy looks at the farmhouse, noticing smoke in each of the windows. She takes out her phone, then taps Record. She speeds over to the house, looking around to make sure no rednecks are around. She enters the home, recording a smoke-filled room where a bunch of rednecks are sitting on the floor and couch, grasping for the colors in the air. There’s underwear hanging off of the TV. Broken beer bottles all over the floor, along with a lamp and a microphone. Wendy walks into the kitchen, which is, too, smoke-filled. There are shattered plates and a couple broken beer bottles all over the floor. Mr. White is standing on the table, grasping for colors. “I think I like these colors more than I like the idea of hitting children.”Wendy turns around and walks over to the stairs. She takes them up to the second floor, which is in the same condition as the ground floor. In Randy's room, two officers are naked in the bed. In the bathroom, Craig's dad is staring at himself in the mirror. In Shelley's room, Tom MacDonald is in his underwear and a MAGA hat, sitting high off his ass on the bed with two drunk rednecks. “Fuck the left, fuck the woke, we should change the US Republican Party's colourto spray-tan orange!” As Wendy walks into Stan's room, where a redneck is fast asleep on the bed, Dyrrl reaches the top of the stairs. “There you are! I'm gonna get you, Witch of Bitch!” Dyrrl speeds towards Wendy, who runs into Stan’s room and shuts the door, then locks it. Dyrrl knocks. “If you don't come out I'm gonna call ICE!” Dyrrl knocks again. “Don't make me use my shotgun!” There's a loud bang. “Ahhh I shot my leg! Save me Herbert Garrison! Oh… wow… blood is so beautiful!”Dyrrl groans in pain. Once he falls silent, Wendy gently opens the door. Seeing Dyrrl lying unconscious in a puddle of blood on the floor, she hops over him. Seconds later, she bursts out the front door, then ends the recording. She speeds off the property as Randy runs in circles on the driveway, high off his ass. “Wee, I'm a peepy bird!”The next morning, Randy wakes up in his underwear on the couch. Some of the rednecks are sleeping nearby on the ground by the clutter. The round table is broken and the picture frames are crooked. “Aw, oh god. That was a time wasn't it. Wait… did we get the Stotches out of prison? I don't think so.” There's a knock on the door. Randy gets up to answer it. He opens the door to see Sharon, holding an AK-47 upright, with Shelley to her right and Stan, to her left. Randy raises both brows. “Uh, what's that you're holding? What are you gonna do with that?”“The past few days, I've been thinking… you've become too toxic for me and the kids to be around,” Sharon says. “I'm going to take the kids back to our old home, and… I'm breaking up with you.”Randy chuckles. “You're funny, Sharon.”“It's not a joke,” Sharon says. “You've turned into a MAGA fuck and a Nazi enabler. I bought this gun for self-defense, in case somebody tries to hurt me or the kids for wanting rights.”Randy furrows his brows. “You can't leave me, psycho bitch! And are you liberals just carrying guns now?! You gonna shoot up a school or something?!”Sharon sighs. “I'm the only liberal I personally know who's bought a gun for self-defense against fascists. Maybe others will follow soon. And no, Randy, liberals aren't interested in shooting up schools and would rather stop guns from falling into the hands of the mentally incapable.”“Blibble blabble blobble bloo,” Randy says. He points at Sharon. “That's you.”Sharon sighs. “I've had enough of your bs. Goodbye.” Sharon turns around, then walks to the car. Stan and Shelley follow.“Okay, fine! Don't come back! I hope you get deported!” Randy says as Sharon and the kids get into the car. He shuts the front door, then Craig's dad speeds up to him.“Randy! Someone got a video of me at the party and posted it online! Now my wife’s pissed!”“Don't worry, Tucker,” Randy says. “Women are a lost cause. Maybe get one of those AI girlfriends and have it be powered by DeepSeek. We need to think outside the box and be open to new ideas.” Randy gasps as he sees a Mexican man in a t-shirt and jeans sleeping on the kitchen table. “Hey how'd a Mexican get in here!” Randy runs towards the man as Craig's dad texts on his phone. “Get out of here! You're going back to where you came from!”“I was born in Colorado,” the Mexican man says.