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[Invesco Field, Denver, Colorado, noche. Un dirigible de Goodyear se cierne sobre el estadio lleno. Los Broncos se enfrentan contra otro equipo.]
Dan: [describiendo el partido] Artonius Jackson atrapa el balón [Jackson hace su camino en torno a un grupo de jugadores], está corriendo por el lateral y- [Jackson es tirado al suelo por el #48] ¡Ohhhh!
[La casa de los Marsh. Randy, está bebiendo algunas cervezas, está con Stan, Kyle, Cartman, Kenny y Butters para que puedan estudiar el juego.]
Randy: ¡BOHHHHH! ¿Vieron ese golpe? ¡BOOOOM!
Dan: Jackson se detuvo en los 45 y se levanta lentamente. [una vez que pasa, se desempolva.]
Randy: Que buen golpe. Recuérdenlo en la práctica mañana.
Comentador: Sí, Jackson recibió un golpe real y... [Jackson se desempolva y se da la vuelta] no estoy seguro de lo que hace ahora, pero...
Dan: Parece que está buscando sus llaves, Dan.
Comentador: Sí, y eso no tiene mucho sentido, porque desde su conmoción en el año 2006, ni siquiera tiene licencia para conducir.
Dan: El entrenador Martin se acerca para decírselo, pero parece que Jackson cree estar en su auto regresando a casa. [el entrenador intenta llamar su atención] Mientras esperamos, nos alegra poder recibir al comisionado de la NFL, señor Roger Goodell. Comisionado, mucho alboroto por conmociones este año, en la NFL. ¿Cómo maneja la liga todo esto?
Goodell: Bien, ciertamente existen muchas estadísticas muy interesantes, Dan, y estamos muy ocupados y esperando para ver si existe una relación directa entre el fútbol y los traumas de cráneo.
Dan: Oh, parece que algunos ex-jugadores de la NFL están entrando al campo. Está Martin Gregors pro-Seguridad [gordo, pero el más lucido de los ex-jugadores. Se detiene y saluda], y el defensor Jim Harris. Parece que lleva los pantalones en los tobillos. [Harris se detiene y saluda] Alguien debería avisárselo, ohh y el excelente Mike Tafthill [un ex-jugador negro que camina lentamente sosteniendo una bandeja imaginaria], que parece estar horneando un pastel imaginario, Dan.
Comentarista: Sí, no estoy seguro de que sea un pastel o un pan, pero definitivamente cree que está horneando algo.
Butters: Chicos, no entiendo el fútbol. Por eso creo que soy malo jugando.
Stan: Butters, eres malo en todos los deportes.
Butters: Es cierto. Eric me dice que debo ser una gorda en verano por lo malo que soy.
Cartman: Es cierto, Butters.
Dan: Y con esto los Browns están listos para patear el balón a los Broncos
Randy: Bien aquí vamos. Miren como van a patear. Las jugadas especiales son las más importantes.
Kyle: Nosotros ya no pateamos más. [silencio]
Randy: [mirando a Kyle] ¿Huh?
Stan: En la escuela no hacemos esas jugadas porque son peligrosas.
Randy: [se para, mientras sus ojos se ponen en forma de enojado] Momento, momento. ¡Whoa! ¡¿Que MIERDA es esa?!
[Primaria de South Park, noche. Los padres y los profesores están reunidos en la biblioteca para la Reunión de Padres]
Directora Victoria: [junto a el Sr. Adler y el Sr. Mackey] Antes de comenzar con esta reunión de padres y maestros, alguien tiene un asunto pendiente?
Randy: ¿Sí, me gustaría hablar sobre esta nueva idea genial en el fútbol que prohíbe las patadas?
Sr. Mackey: Uh, sí, decidimos seguir sin patadas por la preocupación creciente sobre las conmociones, ¿m'kay?
Randy: [volviéndose sarcástico] ¡Sí, no queremos que los niños se lastimen jugando al fútbol! ¡Pero creo que tengo un modo de mejorarlo más! ¡¿Por qué los jugadores no usan sostenes?!
Sr. Adler: ¿Sostenes?
Randy: ¡Sí, todos deberían usar sostenes! ¡Y en vez de cascos, sombreros de papel aluminio, porque estamos en el futuro y no deberíamos ser tan bárbaros! [los otros padres lo miran y cuchichean entre sí]
Linda: ¿Cómo ayudarían los sostenes y los sombreros de papel?
Randy: Acaso no ven. ¡Ya que estamos en esto, deberíamos reemplazar el balón por un globo, y quien atrape el globo correrá mientras el resto de los jugadores se abraza!
Sr. Mackey: Huh. ¿Y a los alumnos les gustará eso?
Randy: ¡Oh les encantará! Un deporte donde sólo importa la seguridad. ¡¿Por qué no lo llamamos "sarcásmobol"?!
Sr. Mackey: Hnkay, ¿le gustaría ser el entrenador de sarcásmobol en South Park?
Randy: [enojado consigo mismo porque nadie se ha percatado que está siendo sarcástico] ¡Cielo santo! Sí, me gustaría ser el entrenador del equipo de Sarcásmobol!
[Campo de fútbol de la Primaria de South Park, día. Y he ahí a Randy como el entrenador, no como algo que estuviera pensando anoche. Once niños están presentes, con Butters conduce un equipo y Cartman otro. Butters hace el saque al equipo de Cartman y DogPoo lo atrapa. Los jugadores del equipo contrario ahora se abrazan. Stan y Kyle se abrazan, y Stan mira a Randy]
Stan: Papá, ¿es necesario usar sostenes?
Randy: ¡Sí Stan, es lo que quiere la gente! No te preocupes, luces genial. [le levanta el pulgar]
Butters: Tengo el globo, entrenador Marsh. ¿Ahora que hago?
Randy: Ya sabes, intenta llegar a la zona de anotación, pero con mucha amabilidad.
Butters: ¡Muy bien! Hey, disculpen. Perdón, [pasando por Clyde y Kevin] ustedes lucen geniales. ¡Wow, este juego es genial!
Directora Victoria: [se acerca a Randy] ¿Cómo va todo, entrenador?
Randy: ¿Cómo va todo? ¡Increíble! ¡Nadie sale lastimado, los niños están aprendiendo lecciones valiosas sobre abrazos y seguridad! ¡Porque de eso se trata el mundo!
Directora Victoria: ¿Entonces está feliz con estos cambios?
Randy: ¿Feliz? ¡Estoy contentísimo! ¡Mire lo mucho que mejoró esto!
Directora Victoria: [examina la situación y decide irse] De acuerdo. [los chicos todavía están abrazados y Randy sopla el silbato]
[Reportaje Special de News 4]
Reportero: ¿Es el fútbol seguro para sus hijos? Un padre preocupado, Randy Marsh, dice que "No," y comenzó un movimiento para reformar el deporte, y ya tiene cientos de seguidores.
[Un mitin en el parque. Randy sigue siendo sarcástico, pero nadie se da cuenta.]
Randy: ¡Oh, esto es bueno! ¡Que bueno que hayan venido en cantidades enormes para mostrar su apoyo al sarcásmobol! [la gente espera un segundo, y luego aplaude] ¡Sí, sí, ya nos cansamos de que nuestros niños se golpeen en el campo y se lastimen! ¡Hagamos del sarcásmobol el deporte oficial de todas las escuelas! [a multitud aplaude y se anima] ¡Vamos, dense palmadas en las espaldas! [los miembros de la multitud a su vez se dan palmaditas en la espalda]
Reportero: Demostrando lo que un padre preocupado puede lograr, Marsh terminó hablando frente a los líderes de Washington.
Randy: [abordando el Congreso] ¡Sí, sí! ¡Hagamos eso! ¡La economía está en el escusado, se acerca una elección importante, pero la prioridad de este país debe ser que el fútbol sea más seguro! [El Congreso aplaude. El Presidente y su esposa están presentes, y aplauden con el Congreso.]
[Primaria de South Park, en el vestidor de los chicos. El equipo está cambiándose, con sujetadores y sombreros de papel de aluminio. DogPoo entra]
Kyle: [tirando contra el suelo su sosten] ¡Esto es ridículo! ¡¿En serio saldremos a jugar contra North Park así vestidos?!
Clyde: I can't even remember if we're supposed to hug the fullback or compliment him. I'm so confused.
Stan: This game is stupid. I have no idea how to go out on the field and be as nice as I can to the other team!
Cartman: Yeah, you know what? [removes his bra and throws it to the floor] Screw this!
Butters: Hey, whoa! Well I can't believe what I'm hearing! [silence] We've been practicing and gettin' ready for this game, and you fellas just wanna quit?!
Kyle: We don't even understand how this game is played.
Butters: This great game isn't about plays. It's about sportsmanship. And compassion. And when I look around this locker room, well I see some of the nicest, most compassionate guys I've ever met! [walks up to Token] Well Token, you're nicer than anybody I know. [walks up to Clyde] And Clyde! Well you give better hugs than anyone out on that field!
Cartman: That's true.
Butters: Are we just gonna let North Park walk away with a victory because we think they know how to be nicer than us? [stands on a bench] Bein' nice is about what's inside you! When your enemy is nice to you, you just be nice right back! And if they give you two balloons, well you give them three!
Clyde, Kenny: Yeah.
Butters: And when they try an-and thank you for those balloons, you say "Ah I don't need any thanks! I did it 'cause it was the right thing to do!" And then you give them a smile!
Boys: Yeah!
Butters: And when that other team tries to cover you, well that's when you gotta reach deep down. Right down to your creamy center. Well that place, well that place inside of you where, where all the goouey happy-lovin' goo sits and you just gotta use that and be the nicest, most compassionate player you've ever been, and let the world know that we will not fall down so easy!
Boys: [jumping up and down] Yeah! Yeah!
Cartman: [puts his bra back on] Let's do this. [turns his back towards Stan] Stan, hook up my bra.
[NFL press conference. Roger Goodell is at the podium]
Goodell: As commissioner of the NFL, I am so thrilled to see our nation's youth embrace sarcastaball over traditional football. Oh, but why stop there? Since football is so barbaric, we should change too. So let's give a biiig welcome to the new coach of the Denver Broncos, Randy Marsh. [Randy gets applause from the audience as he rises. Goodell shakes Randy's hand] Congratulations, Marsh. Good job!
Randy: Oh thank you, commissioner! I'm thrilled to be a part of this! Thanks!
Goodell: Nice going!
Randy: Yeah, no, you nice going! [they're still shaking hands]
Photographer: Hey guys, how about a nice fucking picture to welcome in the future of sports? [click]
[Invesco Field, Denver, Colorado, night.]
Announcer: Welcome to the inaugural game of the National Sarcastaball League! As we bring you today's matchup between the Denver Broncos and the Oakland Raiders.
Randy: Yeah, lookin' good, guys! Let's kick some butt! [crosses his arms]
#24: Give them hell, coach! Lovin', not shovin'!
Randy: Oh yeah, good one! [the crowd begins to cheer the teams]
Announcer: And now, here are your Denver Whoop de fucking do girls!
Cheerleaders: Woo! Woo!
Cheerleader 1: Go Broncos! Go!
Cheerleader 2: Whoop de fuckin' do!
Announcer: And now, here to sing the sarcastaball anthem, recording artist, Cee-Lo!
Cee Lo Green:

I love sarcastaball
It's so much better than football
I'm so glad they got rid of violence in sports
'Cause sarcastaball is so super fun to watch

Fan 1: Woo! Nice job, Cee-Lo! Good to see you on TV some more!
Fan 2: Yeah, I'm a big fan of all your hit songs!
[South Park Elementary hallway, day. The boys are walking to class. Kenny's not around, and Clyde and Craig join them]
Kyle: Dude, what do you mean "We don't have a coach."?
Stan: Look, I'm sorry guys, my dad said he's too busy with the Broncos. He doesn't have time for us.
Kyle: But our big game with Lakewood is Saturday!
Stan: [stops and faces his friends] I'm sorry. My dad is taking professional sarcastaball really seriously.
Clyde: Well, we might as well call up Lakewood and tell 'em we forfeit. [looks down at the floor]
Kyle: We can't.
Clyde: [somewhat cross] We don't have a coach, Kyle.
Cartman: Who needs a coach? We have Butters.
Butters: Huh?
Craig: Hey yeah.
Stan: [walks up to Butters] The guys are right. From now on, you're team captain, Butters. You lead us to victory.
Butters: Oh jeez n-no, I I don't know, fellas.
Cartman: Butters, you understand this game better than anybody.
Butters: Yeah, but I uh, I I can't be team captain. I... Well I suck at everything.
Stan: Not at this you don't! What about that creamy filling you talked about? That gooey goodness inside you that makes you the butteriest Butters we know?
Butters: 'At's in there. It's overflowing sometimes. [sticks out his tongue a bit]
Kyle: [steps in] We need you, Butters. You're the man! [Butters begins to feel the anticipation]
[Butters' bedroom, night. He's in bed asleep, and a dream sequence begins. He's first hoisted up by his teammate and tossed up in the air...]
The Team: Bu-tters! Bu-tters! Bu-tters! Bu-tters!
[Next he's driving a new red sports car down the street and a crowd of fangirls call out to him as he passes by.]
Fangirls: Butters, rah, Butters!
A Fangirl: I love you, Butters!
Butters: [stops his car and looks at the girls] I love you too, ladies. [blows them a kiss]
[Next he's at an ice cream parlor with Wendy, in a booth with access from both ends.]
Wendy: [to Butters' left] Oh Butters, you know how I feel about the captain of sports teams.
Red: [slides in to Butters' right] Leave him alone, Wendy! He's mine! [they each take a cheek and plant a big kiss on him.]
Butters: Woohoohoohoohoo!
[all the excitement in his dreams wakes him up]
Butters: Wuh wuuuhhh wuh! [sits up] Wha? Wha? Oh. [smiles, Then looks under the covers] Ohhh... Daaad! It happened again. [the door opens and Stephen steps in] More of my creamy goo came out. [Stephen sits on the bed]
Stephen: Oh. Well uh, that's okay Butters. Remember what we talked about. Sometimes our happy, creamy filling just gets soo full it comes out at night.
Butters: [excitedly] I was havin' happy dreams, about a girl and-!
Stephen: All right Butters, let's... it's happy feelings, let's just not talk about it.
Butters: Okay Dad! [Stephen gets up and walks out, and Butters opens up the top drawer of his night stand. He pulls out a small bottle, gets comfortable again, and collects up all the cream] Oh! Saaave that, for later. [puts a cap on the bottle]
[Invesco Field, Denver, Colorado, night. It's game time, and the Broncos face the Steelers... in sarcastaball uniforms]
Announcer: The score is zero to zero as the Steelers kick off to the Broncos.
Cheerleader 1: Go Broncos, Go.
Dan: Manning has the ball. He's saying some really great things about the other team. Manning met by LaMarr Woodley. He's giving the balloon to Woodley. The referee comes in. [the ref blows his whistle and raises his arms] Oh, the referee is calling that a touchdown! Oh wait, now another official is signalling that's a safety!
Randy: [clapping slowly] Oh yeah, nice going, replacement refs!
Dan: They're gonna have to sort this one out with a side judge. [the judge looks at the replay monitor, then looks at the field]
Side Judge: Fuck it, it's a fucking field goal!
Randy: YEAH! [pumps his fist] YEAH! WOO!
[Post-game conference. The press is there taking pictures of Randy as he enters the room. Randy stops and grins at everyone]
Reporter 1: Coach, three to nothing victory over the Steelers. You must feel like a reeeal winner.
Randy: Yeah, well, the other team was just so awesome on offense I was really scared. [covers his chest with his hands]
Reporter 1: Coach Belichick says, [reads from a small notepad] "No way we can beat the Broncos. They've had the same coach for almost a day."
Randy: Oh yeah, I'm just the guy who invented sarcastaball! There's no way I'd know how to coach it!
Reporter 2: Guess we'll find out on Sunday.
Randy: ...Yeah... [the press leaves and Randy begins to think about next week]
[The Broncos' locker room. While the players change into street clothes, Randy enters the room]
Randy: All right guys, listen up! Forget about the day off, we need to practice tomorrow.
Broncos: D'awwwww!
Manning: Practice on Monday after a victory? Great!
Randy: That's good, Peyton, but we need to get better.
Manning: Practice on Monday? That's just what I wanna do!
Randy: That's IT! [claps approvingly]
[Butters' house, afternoon. His doorbell rings and he answers]
Cartman: Hey Butters, you got a minute?
Butters: Wuh sure, Eric. [Cartman walks in and Butters closes the door]
Cartman: I don't now what to do. Kids are starting to make fun of me because, I'm no good at sarcastaball. I suck at being nice and polite. I'm so good at sucking I should work at a Thai massage parlor.
Butters: Uh-uh oh, no E-eric, you're, why you're a great player.
Cartman: No, I just don't have the mojo you have, Butters.
Butters: Oh, well, ye-Eric, ah I told you: everyone has a creamy filling inside them, where all the feelings of compassion and joy come from. Oh, didn't your dad ever tell you that?
Cartman: ...I don't have a dad.
Butters: ...Oh right, I, I'm sorry. Well, everyone has a creamy filling, Eric. And and some people have so much of that filling that it, that it comes out sometimes. A lot of times, when I go to sleep, and especially if I've had them wonderful dreams that make me feel really good, sometimes I wake up, and when I wake up, I I realize some of my goo has come out. [remembers looking at his groin and saying "Oh jeez, there's a lot this time."] But I always make sure I keep it, just in case I ever run out of all my sunshine happy feelings.
Cartman: Youuu save it all?
[Butters' room, moments later. Butters opens up one of the sliding doors to his closet]
Butters: My goo doesn't come out every night, but I sure do seem to have a surplus of it. [before them is a wall of semen samples that Butters has been collecting for over a year now. Another shot shows that he's going on two years' worth of semen, with shelves of it on the other two walls]
Cartman: Butters, do you think your goo might work on someone else?
Butters: I don't know. Weh I never really thought of it that way. [Cartman takes a bottle and chugs it down, then analyzes the flavor]
Cartman: Hm, it's kind of a grapey, bleachy flavor.
Butters: Do you feel warm and compassionate?
Cartman: [analyzes some more...] Holy shit I think I do.
[Rome, on CBS Sports Network. Jim Rome appears with his fingers forming a steeple, and with a standalone TV monitor to his left. A balloon appears, with SARCASTABALL shown above it]
Jim Rome: Welcome back to Rome. We're gonna talk some sarcastaball. I can't wait. I can't wait to talk sarcastaball because it's really compelling. [Randy Marsh appears on the monitor via satellite from his den] Joining me now is the coach of the Denver Broncos and the inventor of sarcastaball, Randy Marsh. Thanks for calling in, Randy. Really happy to have you on the show.
Randy: Yeah, it's awesome to be on your show.
Jim Rome: Randy, first off, thanks for taking the sports that we all love and turning it into a sarcastic nightmare. Way to go.
Randy: Thanks, Jim. 'Cause it's totally what I intended. You know, when I came up with the idea I was sure it was gonna end up like this.
Jim Rome: Well it certainly makes for an exciting game. How about last night's nail-biter that ended zero to zero? That's a game I wanna watch twice. That's a game I wanna watch four times. Check that: I'll watch that game... five times. [POV switch to Randy's den] Good luck on Sunday. I'm sure that'll be another game that I could watch... twelve times. Check that: thirteen times.
Randy: Thanks Jim. [closes the satellite link and switches to a window about sarcastaball strategies and starts working on them. Sharon walks in]
Sharon: Randy, aren't you gonna come join your family for dinner?
Randy: Oh yeah, I've totally got time to do that, Sharon! In fact, how about I go downstairs and make a four-course meal for all of you? Check that: a seven-course meal?
Sharon: Randy, something's happened. Are you un-able to stop being sarcastic?
Randy: Oh, right! I can't stop being sarcastic now!
Sharon: I'm telling you, Randy, I think this sport is doing something to your brain.
Randy: Right, it's doing something to my brain! And now I can't stop being sarcastic!
Sharon: Do you mean that?
Randy: Yes! I totally mean it! [breaks down and begins to tear up] Help me, Sharon. Help me.
[Football night at South Park Elementary. The South Park Cows are playing North Park. South Park throws off and the two teams go at each other for hugs.]
Butters: All right, first string, cover those wideouts. Tell 'em how much you like their outfits! Clyde, Token! Hug those two players and give their quarterback a kiss. [Cartman approaches North Park's #7 and knocks him down. A referee sees this, blows his whistle and walks over to the two players]
Spectators: Awwwwww!
Stan: Cartman, you idiot!
Butters: Stay positive, Stan! All right guys, cuddle up, cuddle up! [the team huddles - er, cuddles up and Butters continues.] Now what is goin' on out there?
Cartman: That kid is provoking us! He's saying mean things to try and piss us off.
Clyde: Yeah. We need more of your mojo, Butters.
Butters: Oh, all right. Well all right, here you go. [Butters passes bottles of his semen around to the other boys, and they all drink the bottles down]
[A hospital, day. Randy is in for a CT scan. He's on the tray and slowly goes in head first. His head is scanned and he's soon rolled out of the scanner. Results come in and are posted on an easel in a doctor's office for the doctor to peruse.]
Doctor: Uh hum. Mmm. [turns towards Randy and Sharon] I'm sorry, Mr. Marsh, but there appears to be permanent damage.
Randy: [dejected] Oh boy, this is great! My week just keeps getting better.
Sharon: How do we fix this, doctor?
Doctor: You don't. I'm sorry, there... just isn't enough research in how sarcasm affects the brain.
Randy: So that's it. [gets up and walks around] I should just go home and forget about what this sport has done to me. Let thousands of people play sarcastaball and get hurt too! [points to the doctor]
Doctor: Ohh, rreally? You, you think there's a correlation between sarcasm and sarcastaball? [gets into a thinking mode] Really? [rolls his eyes] That's fascinating. Please, go on.
Randy: No, sarcastaball has nothing to do with it. I just... I just really enjoy being sarcastic and so I must be finding an excuse.
Doctor: You know, I have a 50-year-old Alzheimer's patient out in the waiting room who can't even remember his family, but... let's forget about him and focus on how sarcastaball might be damaging people's brains.
Randy: My son is out there playing that game! It's heartwarming to see you have such high regard for his safety!
Doctor: Okay, well I've got a better idea. Let's get all the funding for cancer research and genetic diseases, let's, let's take all that money and make commercials that say "Hey America, sarcasm might not be such a great thing for your brain."
Randy: Thank you, doctor. Thank you so much! [turns left and leaves, and Sharon is thoroughly confused. She looks around]
[A commercial]
Jim Rome: Jim Rome here. Hey, I love sarcastaball just as much as the next guy, but sometimes it's so thrilling I need an extra burst of energy to get me through a game. That's when I reach for a bottle of this. [holds up a small bottle, now in mass production] Butters' Creamy Goo. [the commercial follows]
Voice-Over: [#18 runs with the balloon] You play hard. You need a sports drink that gives you that extra boost. [a split screen appears, with windows for football, basketball, women's soccer, and hockey] Sports these days are all about being nice, so take your game to the next level [#18 opens up a bottle of Butters' Creamy Goo and drinks it]. With Butters' Creamy Goo. [a cyclist opens a bottle and drinks it. Some of it splatters on his face] You'll be filled with feelings of good tidings and be nicer than a ray of sunshine. [a round window expands and Butters pops in through it]
Butters: Like me!
Jim Rome: Get with it, and get the Goo!
Voice-Over: Butters' Creamy Goo is chock full of all the essentials an athlete needs. Commitment! Compassion! And Comradery! And now it's available in quart size!
#12: When I get hot and tired, only one thing can boost my compassion. [drinks it down and keeps it there with some effort. A goo mustache stays on his upper lip] Now I'm back in the game! [Two players carry a bucket of goo and dump it on their coach.]
Singer: Go and chug a bottle of Butters' Creamy Goo!
Voice-Over: [an open bottle of it falls right side up to the grass and some goo spills out] Best served just above room temperature.
[A night game, with South Park against another team]
Butters: 42! Red 13! Sunshine and happy thoughts! Sunshine and happy thoouughts! HUT! [Cartman tosses the balloon back at him, and the players move forward. Butters backs up for a pass and throws the balloon up. The other team's player, #9, is ready] Oh no, that kid's gonna intercept it! [#9 catches it and grins] Good job, kid! [an SUV rools onto the field, crushing #9 before it stops. The balloon bounces away unscathed. Randy is shown driving the SUV, with Sharon in tow]
Randy: STAN?! Stan! [the players break their hugs and look at Randy]
Stan: Dad?
Randy: [runs with Sharon towards him] Get in the car, Stan! We're going home!
Stan: What?
Sharon: We're sorry, Stanley, we don't want you playing this sport anymore.
Mr. Mackey: Hey, get off the field! M'kay?! [Randy walks to the sideline to address the crowd]
Randy: Everyone! Everyone, listen! There's something you all need to know about sarcastaball. It turns out... it's totally safe. [a lot of fans have bought bottles of Butters' Creamy Goo] Yeah, it's super safe! It's like sooo safe that we should have every kid play it-ugh! [gets a headache] Oh! Sorry, sorry. Hang on. Gotta not be so sarcastic. Ahem, let me try that again. Listen everyone... if you let your kids play sarcastaball, you're a fucking genius! Ogh!.. Gyugh! Cut, sorry. Let me try this again. [clears his throat again] Look, what I'm trying to say is, we should have like, 10 sarcastaball leagues, because then everyone-! Would- [stomps his right foot in anger] God damn it!
Sharon: Stanley, just get your things and come on. We're going home!
Stan: Whoawhoa, you can't, you can't tell me what to do!
Randy: Yeah, we're your parents! We can't tell you what to do!
Sharon: Don't you see what this sport has done to your father? Do you want to end up like him?
Stan: Oh right, like he doesn't exaggerate every disease he gets!
Sharon: [stunned at the sarcasm coming from Stan] Ohohh Randy, it's happening! [cries and turns towards Randy for a hug, which he gives]
Butters: [walks up and stands next to Stan] Mr. Marsh, listen. I know you care about your son, but he's a heck of a player! He's good at tickling, laughing, and getting along.
Randy: Look, the point has been made, okay?! I'm warning you, being this sarcastic is dangerous!
Stan: We're not being sarcastic, Dad! Is it so hard to believe that we really enjoy a sport that has no violence? Is it so hard for you to believe that when Butters says "Competitiveness can be compassionate," he's being completely sincere?
Randy: I don't see how anyone could play this game with any sincerity.
Cartman: That's because you're too grumpy and negative to believe it. What you need... is a sports drink that can boost your levels of caring and goodness.
Stan: Yeah Dad. You need some of this. [walks forward and gives him a small bottle of Butters' Creamy Goo. Randy takes it and opens it, looking at the contents, then drinks it]
Randy: ...[deadpans] This is cum. [everyone's jaws drop]
[Butters' room, night. Stephen and Linda are in the room, and just outside are Sheila, Randy, Stuart, and Liane.]
Stephen: And you can just sit here in your room and think about what you've done! [Butters is on his bed, looking chastened] Just because people try and make football a little safer by changing a kickoff rule doesn't mean YOU need to take it to "Oh, who don't we just drink each other's cum?"! Sarcasm like that is homophobic, chauvinistic, and completely lacking in maturity! Any questions?!
Butters: What's sarcasm and what's com?
Stephen: We'll talk about that when you're older!
Randy: Come on everybody. Let's work on that kickoff change and get back to some football. [all the adults leave, with Stephen closing the door behind him. Butters sighs, then gets under his covers for the night. As he drifts off to sleep, we get this voice-over]
Jim Rome: Welcome back to Rome. Some of you might have seen me on TV last night. Turns out the drink I endorsed was semen. Turns out a little kid was just bein' sarcastic. That kid's probably grounded for a month. Check that: I'm sure he's grounded for two months. And a week. Football needs to be made safer, so why don't we have players in bras drinking semen? Yeah, that's a fastball right there. That's a real stroke of philosophic genius! More little kids drinking semen to finally bring back real football, and I don't know what else to say but "So long, sarcastaball, it was nice knowin' you." Let's just hope nothin' like this ever happens again. Probably won't. Not for another year. Check that: couple of days.
Butters: [wakes up and gasps] DAD! Hey Dad!
Stephen: [walks in] What?!
Butters: My wiener is all stiff and pointy!
Stephen: Oh, well, Butters, that's just the friendly compass. See, whenever you have friends in the area, your little compass there tells you where they are. It's pointing up because Jesus is your friend.
Butters: Thanks, Dad.
[End of Sarcastaball.]

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