06x16 - My Future Self N' Me

[bunniefuu]

[South Park, woods, night. Six boys look at a tree stump surrounded by litter. They are Jimmy, Toke, Craig, Clyde, Kyle, and Cartman. Kyle is carrying a black trash bag. On the stump is a marijuana joint and some paper]

Kyle: [thrusts the bag at Clyde] Throw it away, Clyde!

Clyde: I'm not gonna touch it. You throw it away.

Stan: [arriving] What's going on?

Kyle: [points at the joint] Some high schoolers left their marijuana cigarette behind. Uh we have to throw it away before some kids find it or something.

Stan: So throw it away.

Clyde: Nobody wants to touch it.

Kyle: What if the residue gets on our hands and it leads to harder dr*gs like those commercials say.

Craig: Yeah, didn't you see that commercial where it says that if you have pot you could become a t*rror1st?

Clyde: And the commercial where the two kids have pot and the one kids sh**t the other. Harmless?

Stan: You guys, those commercials are just exaggerations.

Token: How do you know? None of us had ever had any dr*gs before.

Jimmy: Well, I did Ecstacy once. [the other boys look at him] Me and my girlfriend took it and we stayed up all night having... sex. [the other boys just stare]

Kyle: ...Where did you have sex with her?

Jimmy: In her... va-vag*na. [smiles, but the other boys remain silent] Thank you, thank you. What a terrific audience.

Stan: [annoyed at his friends' skittishness] It's just a stupid plant that makes you dumb. Touching it won't hurt you.

Cartman: [takes the bag from Kyle and offers it to Stan] Then you throw it away, smartass. [Stan walked into that one]

Stan: Fine, I will. [takes the bag and walks over to the stump, faces the boys, and tosses the joint into the bag] There, see? I touched marijuana. I'm not a t*rror1st, I didn't sh**t anybody, and I don't feel like doing more dr*gs now. No big deal.

[South Park, night. To the sound of dramatic music, lightning relentlessly flashes all over town. Stan's house is shown as lightning strikes it. In the living room Stan watches "The Osbournes" with his grandfather. Ozzy is shown in his living room talking to his kids]

Ozzy: You kids [bleep] don't [bleep] around with your [bleep] mom!

Jack: Dad, we [bleep]ing can't! It's a big [bleep]ick a [bleep]

Sharon: [enters scolding] Stan, what did I tell you about watching The Osbournes?

Stan: Aw, come on, Mom.

Sharon: It's going to make you Ret*rded! [starts flipping channels, then settles on a news report, then walks away]

Stan: It's just a show! It doesn't have any f*cking effect on me, for f*ck's sake!

Grandpa Marvin: Oh goody. Now we can watch the news.

Tom: In other news, South Park police are still looking for a craaazy man who terrorized the town one hour ago. [a silhouette of a man running is behind the words "CRAZY MAN" and a question mark is on the silhouette] The man claimed to be from the future and ran naked through the city streets screaming "The past! The past! Oh my God, it's the past!" Which is what one would expect someone in the future to yell. [a knock is heard on the front door, Sharon goes to answer it. Before her stands a disheveled man with long brown hair and stubbly beard. He's wrapped in a large towel and wears a blue cap with red piping and puff, like Stan does]

Naked Man: [slurring his voice] Oh my God, it's the past! [looks at Sharon] Oh, whoa man, it's you!

Sharon: Who are you?

Naked Man: It's me, Mom, your son Stan. [Sharon looks shocked, and the camera zooms in on that. Behind her, still watching TV, are Stan and Marvin. Stan looks over]

Randy: [joining Sharon at the door] Who is it, Sharon?

Naked Man: Dad!

Randy: Dad?? Look! We don't know you and you don't know us! Just go away before we call the police!

Stan: [rises from the sofa and walks over] Who the f*ck is is, Mom and Dad?

Naked Man: No way, it's me from the past! [looks quite relieved]

Stan: I'm me from the past?

Naked Man: [genuflects to Stan, who leans back a bit] No, I'm you from the future! [rises, and Randy helps him up] Oh man, this is so messed up.

Randy: [pushing the man out the door] Okay, we've had enough!

Naked Man: Your name's Randy Marsh, you're a geologist, and you don't like chicken. Mom, your maiden name is Kimble and you have a scar on your left knee from when you slipped in the swimming pool.

Sharon: [in hushed tones] Randy, what's going on?

Randy: [in hushed tones] I don't know.

Naked Man: Dude, just let me talk to you for like, five minutes. After that I'll bail.

[The Marsh dining room. The naked man is now dressed in street clothes and seated at the head of the table. He's emjoying a beer and regular cigarette. The others look dazed and confused at the man as he recounts his memories]

Future Stan: I can still remember when I was five and you both found that squirrel I'd been keeping in the closet and, you let me keep it for another week and then it ran away but... I know that's just what you told me. I know that Mom had actually let it out.

Randy: How could he possibly know all that unless... he is our son from the future.

Sharon: But why are you back in this time with us, son?

Future Stan: I have no idea, man. I was just about to go asleep in an alley behind the crackhouse, [Stan is aghast at what he would becme] and I sh*t up a little heroin, and then this electrical storm started. Next thing I knew I was running around in my own past, man. I thought... I was just tripping, but then I came down and I was still here. Oh, dude, it's so bizarre!

Stan: Oh dude, I should have never touched that marijuana!

Randy: [laying hands on the man's shoulder] Stan, whatever's happened, we going to help you.

Sharon: [reaching out] That's right. We're a family no matter what time shift.

Future Stan: Thanks. Can I get another beer?

Sharon: You must be exhausted. Why don't you get some sleep?

Future Stan: That'd be k*ller. Where can I crash?

Sharon: Well I'm sure Stan wouldn't mind his room, would you, Stan?

Stan: What?? I have to share my room with my future self?? Oh no! [squeezes his eyes shut and buries them in his right hand]

Singer: Here we are, face to face, "My Future Self -n- Me"

[Stan and Future Stan stroll down a road. Future Stan has a beer]

Stan: [right at the camera] Stop it!

Singer: So much alike, and yet so different

Stan: [Stan's future self joins him in bed after freshening up in the bathroom] No!

Singer: One of them's messy, the other one's clean!

[Stan's future self turns off the light while Stan looks pissed off]

Gettin' along isn't always easy, sometimes we disagree

[Stan's future self brushes his teeth as Stan stands next to him, avoiding him. Future Stan spits his frothy toothpaste into the sink]

Stan: Quit it!

Singer: But in the end we know we're good for each other

[both Stans eat cereal, but the future Stan has trouble pouring milk into his bowl. It splashes out of the bowl along with some cereal. Stan just buries his face in his hands in frustration]

Two peas in a pod, Future Self -n- Me

Future Self -n- Me, Future Self -n-

[Now they have separate beds. Stan turns the light out and tries to sleep. Future Stan reaches over to turn it on. Stan moves to turn it on, and they fight over the switch until one of them sleeps]

Me

[Bus stop, next day. Stan arrives with future Stan]

Stan: Hey guys.

Kyle, Cartman: Hey.

Future Stan: Whoa, Kyle and Cartman! It's so cool to see you guys.

Cartman: Who's this assh*le?

Stan: This is my future self. He came during the electrical storm last night and is caught in a time matrix. He's me when I'm 32.

Kyle: Wow. That's pretty cool.

Cartman: Then how does he know our names?

Kyle: 'Cause, artard, he's Stan from the future. He knows everything Stan knows.

Cartman: Ohhh. Wait. Stan becomes this douchebag?

Future Stan: Yeah, I spent a lot of my teenage years on a slow downward spiral experimenting with dr*gs and alcohol. [Cartman has a hearty laugh]

Stan: Shut up, Cartman!

Cartman: That is so awesome!! Thank you God! [bows deeply] Oh praise God!

Kyle: Hey, what happens to me in the future?

Future Stan: Oh, I don't know. You guys stayed away from dr*gs, so you're okay. I just lost touch with you after I was sent to Juvi Hall in 2006.

Cartman: [pats Stan on the back] Juvi Hall! [laughs heartily, then gloats] Stan's a loser! Stan's a loser! [laughs heartily]

Stan: [under his breath] God-damnit!

[South Park Elementary, after school, Garrison's classroom. Stan and Butters are seated next to each other, and there are no other kids around]

Stan: Thanks for staying after school and tutoring me, Butters.

Butters: Uh well, sure thing, Stan. Eh, how come you care about schoolwork all of a sudden?

Stan: I told you, I can't stand my future self. I have to do whatever I can to not become a loser like him.

Butters: Well, studying is the golden key to the imposing door of success.

Stan: I just can't stand having my future self around all the time! It's driving me crazy! [gets off his seat and starts pacing the floor] Maybe if I get smarter I won't become him and I won't have to share my room!

Butters: I know what you mean. I hate having my future self around, too.

Stan: Yeah, it's like everything I do, he... [stops and then looks at Butters] Wait a minute, what'd you say?

Butters: I said, I know how you feel. My life has gone completely downhill ever since my future self moved in. I hate him! All he ever wants to do is watch Becker. And that show is so stupid. [Stan is surprised by this account]

Stan: [after a moment] Dude, how long has your future self been around?

Butters: Oh. I guess it's been around four months now.

Stan: Four months?? And you never told anybody that you were living with yourself in the future??

Butters: Nobody asked.

Stan: Where is he now?

Butters: Probably watching Becker.

[Butters' house, afternoon. A future Butters is watching TV and eating chips at the sofa]

Becker: My name is T. Becker. The T stand for Terrific. [laughs. Future Butters finds this quite funny. Stan and Butters enter the hosue to meet future Butters.]

Butters: See, here he is. Future Butters. Future self, this is my good friend,-

Future Butters: Stan! Sure I remember you. Yep. Wearing that puff-ball hat like always.

Linda: [walks in with a plate holding a glass of water and a bottle] Oh, hello boys. Future Butters, it's time to take your liver medicine.

Stan: Liver medicine?

Butters: Yeah. My future self has a bad kidney from all the drinkin' he did in high school. [an air of determination appears] Amd I need to learn to behave myself! [Stan crosses his arms and gets mad, then bolts for the door] Hey! Where are you going, Stan? [follows Stan out.]

[Stan's house, moments later. Stan rushes into his room with Butters in tow]

Stan: Alright, where is that sonofab*tch's wallet?!

Butters: Wha-, what are you lookin' for, huh Stan?

Stan: Butters, don't you think it's a little bit of a coincidence that both your future self and my future self got caught in a mexterdexed time plane? [starts rifling through future Stan's clothes]

Butters: Well they both got the same teacher for homeroom, too, but you didn't say anything then.

Stan: Here it is. [pulls out a wallet and reads the license. It's from the future, with LOSER printed in large letters on it and an expiration date of 10-19-2043] It has to be something eh... Wait, what's this? [pulls out a Motivation Corp. key card, expiring on 12/26/02] This expires in two thousand two. Why does he have this in his wallet?

Butters: I don't follow.

Stan: [flips the card over to see the info on the other side] Three four five one Colfax Avenue. Come on, Butters. [heads out the door.]

Butters: [excitedly] Oh! Are we out for an adventure? [follows Stan out]

[Denver, night. A bus drives up to a curb on the seedy street, then takes off. Stan and Butters walk down the street]

Stan: Here it is. Motivation Corp. [the camera pans up to show the name of the buidling. Stan puts the card into the reader next to the door. The door opens and Stan heads in.]

Butters: [turns away. Stan stops right at the entrance] I don't think we're supposed to go in there, Stan. Maybe we should go adventurin' somewhere else.

Stan: [walks up to Butters] Butters, part of being on an adventure is you go places you're not supposed to go. [heads in]

Butters: Oh. Well, you're good at adventurin', huh Stan? [follows Stan in and closes the door.]

[Motivation Corp., interior. Stan and Butters look down a long hallway. Stan notices a window and looks in. Several workers are at their computers matching kids up with actors who are to portray their futures selves]

Stan: What the hell is going on here?

A voice: It should take about a month to achieve the results you want. [Stan hears the voice and pulls Butters behind some bushes underneath the window. Stan peeks out over the bushes. The director appears with a couple ] Well, Mr. and Mrs. Brooks, I think you're going to be very pleased with the results.

Mr. Brooks: We sure hope so. We just don't know how to talk to our son about dr*gs.

Director: Well now you won't have to! Ah, here he is. This is Josh Casher. He'll be playing the role of your future son.

Josh: Nice to meet you, "Mom and Dad." [they all laugh heartily]

Mrs. Brooks: My goodness, he does look a little like Kevin.

Director: Yes, and he knows all your family history and every detail of your house. And he's worked up quite a future for your son.

Mr. Casher: I'm going to tell him that I dropped out of school and went to prison for eight years, where I was sodomized. In the ass.

Mrs. Brooks: Woohoo, that should get Kevin to stay clear of dr*gs.

Mr. Brooks: Heh it sure should, heh.

Director: Alright, then we'll put the fake news report out on Tuesday night. Make sure your son is watching the Channel 4 News.

Mr. Brooks: Oh, and that's when uh you'll fake the electrical storm as well?

Director: Motivation Corp. takes care of everything. [hands out some stapled sheets of paper] Just follow these simple scripts when your actor arrives.

Mrs. Brooks: [reads from her script] "Listen to me, you crazy person, there's no way you can be from the future." Oh this is going to be fun.

[Motivation Corp., interior. Stan hurries out of there with Butters close behind.]

Stan: I can't believe it! It's all a scam!

Butters: Yeah, I can't believe it!

Stan: They've all been lying to us this whole time!

Butters: This whole time! I wonder if my future self knows anything about this? [thinks about this a minute. Stan lowers his eyelids to half-closed as he realizes Butters is still clueless] Hey, maybe my future self remembers this happening, a-and can shed some light on this subject.

Stan: [closes his eyes a bit, then] Butters, don't you get it?! Those assholes aren't our future selves! Our parents hired them to make us more motivated!

Butters: Eh, but then why did they come back to the past

Stan: They didn't come back to the past, you dumbass, they're actors!

Butters: Oh... Oohhhh. [Stan rolls his eyes] But that's like they're lyin'

Stan: It is lying, Butters. Your parents lied to you and my parents lied to me! Get it!

Butters: Ohhh, that makes me angry! Why, if Professor Chaos were here he'd make everyone pay!

Stan: Who's that?

Butters: You know, Professor Chaos, bringer of destruction and disorder!

Stan: What?

Butters: Follow me back home, Stan. It's time I let you in on a horrible s-secret! [heads off. This time, Stan follows]

[Butters' house, later. An upper light is on. Butters leads Stan into his bedroom.]

Butters: Wait right here, Stan. I warn you: you may not like what you're about to see. [slides his closet door open, steps inside the closet, and slides the door shut]

Stan: We have to teach our parents a lesson! Show them they can't just play with our emotions like that!

Butters: [jumps out of the closet and cackles] Now you know my terrible secret!

Stan: ...You're gay? [Butters loses his moment] It's fine if you're gay, Butters. I don't care.

Butters: Huh? Naw, I'm Professor Chaos, Stan.

Stan: But we have to teach our parents a lesson, Butters! We're running away! Help me find the perfect place to run away to! [walks off]

Butters: [walks downtrodden to the mirror and looks at himself] Mm. Uhm, maybe I used a little too much silver.

[Stan's room, next day. Stan and Butters are on the floor. Butters is reading the newspaper as Stan watches on.]

Butters: How about this? Winter Farm. It looks kinda nice.

Stan: No, we gotta run away somewhere warm.

Butters: Wow, look at this, Stan. [reads from the paper] "Are you sick of your parents? Do you want revenge for something they've done to you? Call the Parental Revenge Center of Western America for a free con-sul-ta-tion. Results guaranteed."

Stan: [heading for the phone] Dude, I didn't know there was such a thing. [picks up the phone receiver and starts punching in the numbers]

Butters: Hey look, somebody lost their pet.

Stan: Uh, hi, is this the Parental Revenge Center of Western America? [listens for the answer] Ah I'm really pissed off at my parents and I wanna impose swift and horrible revenge upon them?

Butters: Look, you can make your weiner bigger in just three weeks.

Stan: [still on the phone] Oh really? Oh, okay, uh where are you located, please? [listens and writes down the address] Great, uumm, can I come by tomorrow?

Butters: This lady'll massage your weiner for ninety-five dollars. Well that's a pretty good deal.

Stan: Eleven o'clock is great. Thank you. [hangs up] That was easy! I just have to go to their office and they'll help me figure out how to get back at my parents!

Butters: [rises on his knees] Hah-hey, I wanna get revenge on my douchebag parents, too.

Stan: Fine, then you can come with me. [heads out the door]

Butters: Hooray! [follows him out] And then we can make our weiners bigger, and have the lady massage them.

[South Park, commercial district. Stan and Butters run down the street and turn the corner into an alley. Stan checks the address]

Stan: I guess this is it.

[Parental Revenge Center of Western America. The headquarters are quite shabby. What looks like computers and monitors are just cardboard boxes with crude drawings on them. Stan and Butters enter. They look around as they approach the main desk]

Stan: Uh hello, we're here about the revenge on our parents?

Cartman: [an egg-shaped chair is seen, with its back to the boys] Yes, come in, please. [the chair turns around, and Cartman appears seated on it.]

Stan: Cartman??

Cartman: Oh, Stan, Butters, I didn't know it was you guys.

Stan: What the hell are you doing here?!

Cartman: I'm running a business, Stan. Are you my eleven o'clock?

Butters: You're the Parental Revenge Center of Western America??

Stan: God-damnit, I knew this was too good to be true! Come on, Butters, let's go. [both boys turn and walk towards the door]

Cartman: Eh, so, you don't want to make your parents suffer and pay for mistreating you, then? [Stan and Butters stop in their tracks] Look, ah, I don't know what your parents did to you, but if you're here, I take it they pissed you off pretty good. Maybe you should at least ...hear what I have to offer?

Stan: [turns around] Oh, sorry. I thought this was a legitimate business!

Cartman: That it is, I assure you. I started this business over three months ago from the ground up. I've beenhelping children get back at their parents ever since.

Stan: How many parents have you exacted revenge upon?!

Cartman: Craig's. a-and Clyde's. Oh and and Kyle's, but that was a freebie. Look, I run a legitimate business hre with state-of-the-art computers, charts, and technology. Look around you. I know how it feels to be really, really pissed off at your parents. And I will work hard, for you. [Stan and Butters think a moment, then take seats before Cartman]

Stan: Our moms and dads lied to us about those future selves! It was just a trick to get us to not wanna try dr*gs or alcohol.

Cartman: [lets out a heavy sigh] God-damnit! See? This is exactly why I started this business. If a parent can't respect their child, than who can they respect, huh?

Butters: Yeah!

Cartman: Listen! Parents understand one thing, and that's consequences. They need to see consequences from their actions, or else they'll never learn. What my company does is inflicts those consequences upon the parents in a very real and very direct way.

Stan: How much is this going to cost us?

Cartman: Eighteen thousand dollars. [Butters looks to Stan for guidance] How about just... three hundred and eighty seven easy payments of a hundred ninety nine, ninety five. [Stan still looks angry, Butters follows] How about five bucks?

[Motivation Corp., day. ]

Director: So, everything is working out with your future actor? Your son seems to be responding.

Randy: I think he's pretty scared alright.

Sharon: It's just a little weird having people lying to our boy like this.

Director: Well, you know what us ultra-liberals say, when it comes to children and dr*gs, lies are OK. The ends justify the means. We'll take smoking, for instance. The truth is there's no hard evidence that second-hand smoke can k*ll but, we believe it's okay to lie about it as long as it gets people to stop smoking.

Sharon: Well that makes sense.

Director: So it is with everything here at Motivation Corp. It's okay for us to lie and tell kids that all marijuana supports terrorism. [a sh*t of a marijuana leaf superimposed over the burning World Trade Center] Or that... one pill of Ecstacy is gonna k*ll them. It's not necessarily true, but the ends justify the means.

Randy: Well I think when this is all over, our son is gonna thank us.

[Parental Revenge Center of Western America. Cartman prepares to lay out his plans for Stan and Butters. His cap is gone, as is the egg-shell chair.]

Cartman: Okay, Butters, let's start with you. I thnk I've found a great way to get revenge on your parents. Just... tell me if I'm going in the right direction here. [displays a few brochures and opens one] What we're going to do, Butters, is we're going to wait for your parents to leave the house, and then, smear all the walls... with poop.

Butters: Hwuhh. That'll make them awful sore.

Cartman: Now, I want you to take a look at some of these poop swatches. [displays some swatches with poop samples on them]

Butters: Poop- poop swatches?

Cartman: Poop comes in a lot of varieties, Butters. I wanna find the perfect one, tailored to your revenge on your parents.

Butters: Hey, that's neato, huh, Stan?

Cartman: Now, personally, I like the baby green. [switches to a new swatch] But I also think the classic brown would go nicely with your house.

Butters: Wow, Eh eh you sure are a p-professional, Eric! I don't know which swatch I like best.

Cartman: Well, y-you know what we could do, uh, uh Butters, is go with the baby green in the living room, and then maybe a classic brown, or even a nut-n-corn crunch in your parents' bedroom.

Butters: Well that sounds good.

Cartman: Okay, well let's do that then. That looks nice.

Butters: Hooray!

Cartman: Alright, now, Stan. For you I've put together a really nice design. I feel your parents were a bit more cocky about lying to you and your revenge needs to reflect that. So what I wanna to is put a note on your parents' door, telling them I'm the counselor from the school.

Stan: [brightly] Yeah.

Cartman: The note will inform them that a problem has come up and they need to see me right-away, back at my office.

Stan: Yeah.

Cartman: Your parents will drive all the way out to the school and discover that no meeting is actually taking place.

Stan: Yeah!

Cartman: And while they're gone, we're gonna smear all their walls with poop. [Stan's excitement vanishes]

Butters: Wow! Neato!

Stan: That's not neato, that sucks.

Cartman: What?

Stan: You're gonna smear Butters' parent's walls with poop. I thought his revenge was unique and customized!

Cartman: Poop-smearing is the hot ticket right now, Stan, and... have you seen the poop swatches.

Stan: Dude, that's not extreme enough! My parents aren't gonna learn their lesson from having some crap smeared on their walls! I want them to see what they did was wrong! I want them to have them to admit that they lied to me!

Cartman: Okay, okay, fine. I I just, I just, ...my first idea. That's why we have these consultations. [throws the brochure away and gets some paper from inside the desk] Okay, okay, lemme, lemme see here. Uh. Oh wait, oh this is nice. How about this: uh, we'll lure your parents out of the house, and then we'll k*ll them. Uh, we'll cut them up into little pieces and feed them to the dog

Stan: Dude!

Cartman: Extreme enough for you? How's Wednesday?

Stan: No, that's too extreme!

Cartman: [sighs] Well first it's not extreme enough and then it's too extreme; where do you want it?

Stan: Just forget it, Cartman! You don't know what you're doing! [leaves his seat and heads for the door.]

Cartman: I'm a professional, suh! [watches Stan leave] Don't worry about it, Butters. You're gonna be a hundred percent satisfied.

[The Marsh house, day. All the Marshes are at the dining room table eating tacos and chips]

Stan: Hey future self.

Future Stan: Yes, former self?

Stan: You know that thing that I kept hidden in the hold in the wall for two years that I've never told anybody about? [future Stan looks at Stan as if the boy were crazy] You know, the thing that I take out of the shoebox every night before I go to sleep?

Future Stan: Oh, uh...

Stan: You must know what I'm talking about.

Future Stan: Sure uh, uh, [quickly rises from the table and walks toward the dining room entrance] oh man, could you all excuse me for a second? I think I'm gonna crap my pants. [leaves. Stan crosses his arms, quite annoyed]

Sharon: Uh, Stan, [Randy stops eating his taco and looks at Stan] don't you think you're upsetting your future self a little?

Randy: Yeah, Stan, don't be so hard on yourself.

Stan: Mom, Dad, I don't think that guy is from the future. [Sharon and Randy shift in their chairs]

Randy: Oh. You. You don't?

Stan: No. [plants his hands along the table's edge] You know what I think? I think this is all an elaborate hoax! [crosses his arms again] And I think that whoever is doing it doesn't have very much respect for me! [uncrosses his arms] See, the best way to try to motivate somebody is by being direct with them, to be honest with them. I think the whole futre self thing is a lie, and lies are never the right way to get your message across.

Randy: Well, you know what I think, Stan?

Stan: What?

Randy: I think he IS from the future.

Sharon: Yeah, he must be. [Stan looks at them with eyebrows knitting] It's like, I jsut feel he's our son, you know?

Randy: Right. That's mother's intuition; you can't argue with that. No, Stan, I think the only way you're gonna get of him is by staying clear of dr*gs and alcohol.

Sharon: Right. [Stan looks at them with anger, then looks forard with anger]

[Butters' house, day. There's a Hispanic crew in the house painting the walls with two kinds of poop colors. The furniture is covered. Cartman enters and walks around the living room]

Cartman: Okay, very nice, very nice. Oh wait, uh, God-damnit! Felipe! [a painter descends from the small ladder he's on] The classic brown poop is supposed to go in the parents' bedroom! The living room is supposed to be all baby green poop!

Felipe: ¿Qué? ¿La caca no esta aquí? ["What? The poop isn't here?"]

Cartman: ¡La caca de moreno no es aquí! ¡Aquí es verde, señor! ¡Es verde! ¡Arriba arriba!

Felipe: ¡Sí, sí señor! ["Yes, yes sir!"]

Cartman: Sí, gracias. ¿Y tú? [looks in another part of the living room] ¡Carlos! ¡Carlos, no! We want a textured effect on the nut-n-corn crunch poop. That's why we [sees a sponge on the floor and picks it up] spackle with the sponge. [dips the sponge into a poop tray and spackles the wall with it] See? Spackle gently. Lo marrado. Gently, see? Marrado.

Carlos: Sí. Marrado. ["Yes. Gently"]

Cartman: Marrado. Spectacularrr.

Carlos: Sí. [takes the sponge from Cartman and begins spackling]

Cartman: God, it's so hard to find good help. [runs into Butters, who has just entered the house] Ah! Butters, like what you're seeing so far?

Butters: Boy, it sure is stinky in here!

Cartman: Yeah, well, three hundred gallons of poop isn't gonna smell like a garden, Butters. But I think it's coming together real nice.

Butters: Look, eh, Eric, I've been thinkin', my parents are gonna be awful sore and I don't think-

Cartman: Yes, well, I've done my job, haven't I? [notices another worker] ¡Pepite, Pepite, no! No come la taco la trabajar!

[The Marsh house, night. Randy and Sharon talk with the future Stan]

Future Stan: Yes, well, it's hard to find work in commercials, so I ended up- [the front door opens]

Randy: Oh, Stan! [Sharon and Future Stan look. Stan enters the dining room]

Future Stan: Oh, dude, how's it goin', man? Ey, you wanna go upstaris and play hide and go seek?

Stan: [takes a seat at the table] Hide and go seek, huh?!

Randy: Yeah, Stan, why don't you go upstairs and play with yourself?

Stan: I don't believe that he's my future self!

Randy: Yeah, but we can't be sure, so we'd better assume he is and never try that first marijuana cigarette, huh?

Stan: No, I actually have a way to be sure. [whips out a meat cleaver in his right hand and places his left wrist on the table] I'm going to cut off my hand. If he is my future self, then his hand will disappear.

Sharon: [rises frantically] S-stanley you don't need to do that. He-he is your future self.

Stan: But I have to know for sure. [readies the cleaver]

Randy: [stammers] Don't be silly, Stan. You don't wanna go through life without one of your hands. [Sharon is fearful]

Stan: Maybe it's the hand I smoked that first joint with. Here I go. I'm gonna do it.

Randy: Stan...

Stan: Yes?

Randy: Uh... nothing. Go ahead.

Sharon: Randy!

Stan: [lowers the cleaver onto his wrist. The left hand falls away, and he lifts his left arm] AAAH! [a red area marks where the left hand was]

Randy: AAAHHH! Oh my God! Look! [points. Stan looks behind his seat. Randy moves quickly to Future Stan and chops off his left hand. Blood spurts out. Stan faces the adults again as Future Stan screams in pain] What? His hand did disappear! He is you from the future!

Future Stan: Oh, Jesus Christ! Help me!

Stan: That's weird, because I really didn't cut off my hand. It was fake.

Randy: Uh.. [tries to put Future Stan's back in place] Look, it was fake in the future, too. [Future Stan passes out in shock]

Sharon: Looks like you'd better really watch out for marijuana, huh Stan?

[Butters' house. Cartman stands with his crew behind him, their work finished.]

Cartman: Well Butters, I hope you like the work. I'm sure your parents will be plenty pissed off.

Butters: Uh, and after my parents get angry, uh how do we get the poop off the walls?

Cartman: Ooo, ah, that's a different company. [the doorbell rings] Oh! Someone's here! We'd better run out the back! Pepite! Carlos! ­¡Vamonos!

Butters: Uh but Cartman! Wait! [once Cartman and crew leave, Butters faces the front door] Oh Christmas! [the door opens and Stan enters]

Stan: Butters!

Butters: Oh, Stan!

Stan: Butters, we've go-! Oh, God, it smells in here.

Butters: Yeah, well, three hundred gallons of poop isn't gonna smell like a garden.

Stan: Butters, we're running away!

Butters: We are?

Stan: Our parents are never gonna admit what they did was wrong, and they're never gonna change! [Chris, Linda, and future Butters enter with groceries]

Chris: What the hell is this?!

Linda: Oh my God, our house!

Butters: [squeezes his eyes shut and buries his face in his hands] Oh Geez, ah, I'm gonna get it now

Chris: [both parents approach with hands on hips] Butters! Do you have an explanation for this?!

Butters: Oh, not really sir, I just uh...

Linda: Wait a minute. Chris, don't you see? This might be our fault.

Chris: What, uh-? My God. You're right, Linda. This is what we get for deceiving our son.

Stan: [watching his words fall apart] Huh?

Chris: Butters, listen. The whole future self thing, well, it was a dirty fib.

Linda: We just so desperately wanted you to never try dr*gs that we used a big scare tactic instead of ...telling you the truth.

Chris: We though the ends justified the means, but they don't. They just... don't, son! [starts crying as he and Linda hug Butters]

Linda: We're sorry, baby. [starts crying also. Butters, feeling the love, smiles, then grins.]

Stan: Get the f*ck out of here. [Randy and Sharon rush into the house]

Randy: Stan! Stan! Oh. Okay, uh, you you might be wondering why Butters has a future self, too.

Sharon: Yes, well, eh you see, son, the time matrix pulled in more people from the future.

Stan: Aw, stop it, you guys! I know all about Motivation Corp.! All I've been trying to get you guys to do is admit that you lied to me!

Randy: Oh... Well... Son, we've just been trying to make sure you know how dangerous dr*gs like pot are.

Stan: I've been told a lot of things about pot, but I've come to find out a lot of those things aren't true! So I don't know what to believe!

Randy: Well, Stan, the truth is marijuana probably isn't gonna make you k*ll people, and ...it most likely isn't gonna fund terrorism, but... Well son, pot makes yuu feel fine with being bored and... It's when you're bored that you should be learning some new skill or discovering some new science or... being creative. If you smoke pot you may grow up to find out that you aren't good at anything.

Stan: I really, really wish you just would have told me that from the beginning.

Sharon: He's right. If we use lies and exaggerations to keep kids off dr*gs, then they're never gonna believe anything we tell them

Randy: Well, there's only one person I can blame. Motivation Corp.!

[Outside Motivation Corp., day. Randy, Sharon, Stan, and Cartman look at the building and listen at the voices coming out of it]

Director: Oh God, who smeared crap all over our walls?! Oh Jesus, it smells! Oh!

Randy: You really did a nice job, Eric. [Sharon holds a box of cookies]

Stan: Yeah, I gotta admit. You really came through. Thank you. I thought the hangover black went really nice in the lobby.

Sharon: Well here, Eric, I baked you a huge box of cookies as a present.

Cartman: Thanks. But you know, all this talk about future selves has made me think, maybe I should ...take better care of myself. I mean, maybe I should think about who I'm going to become.

Future Cartman: [tall and fit, arrives] Atta boy, Eric. You've made the right choice.

Cartman: Who the hell are you?

Future Cartman: Haha, it's me, Cartman! You from the future. [genuflects] I came back to tell you that this is the day you turn it all around. You stop eating junk food and you start studying harder, you stay away from dr*gs and alcohol and you become CEO of your own time-travel company!

Cartman: [sets the box of cookies down] Oh wow, really? That's so awesome! Now I'll really work to be successful!

Future Cartman: Right on!

Cartman: Go have sex with yourself, assh*le! I'm not that stupid! Just for that, I'm gonna spend my whole childhood eating what I waunt, and doin' dr*gs when I waunt! [The Marshes leave. He joins them] Whatevuh! I'll do what I waunt!

Future Cartman: No, wait! [a flash of lightning on his body changes him into a fat plumber, his suit replaced by street clothes amd a name tag] Oh, God-damnit!

[End of My Future Self N' Me]