Original subtitles

"Why I Love Wagstaff." That's the theme?

Wasn't it "I Love Wagstaff, Here's Why" last year?

Come on, it's cute.

"Because Andy goes here."

"Because Ollie goes here."

Where are our kids' projects? We've been around

the whole cafeteria. There's Mr. Frond.

Let's ask him where the kids' stuff is.

Mr. Frond!

Is he trying to hide?

Hi, Miss La Bonz. Sorry,

uh, Mr. Frond is right behind you hiding.

Oh, happens every day.

Frond, are you avoiding us?

No!

What? No.

I'm in-voiding you.

Why is your lip all sweaty?

Uh, uh, what? No, just...

Okay, stop it. Where are our kids' projects?

We can't find them. Uh, they are, um...

they're right there. You didn't point at anything. When you say "right there,"

you kind of have to point at something.

Oh, I-I meant... they're right there-there.

Frond, stop. Just tell us where they are.

Fine.

Your children's essays

were a little... creative.

But I thought they were supposed to be creative.

Too creative.

Too creative!

I like the sound of that, huh?

Offensive. They were offensive.

The school superintendent is here,

and I'm already on thin ice with her

because my "credentials" aren't "valid"

in this "state."

Come on, Mr. Frond, how bad can they be?

They're kids' stories. I mean, come on.

This bad.

Ooh! Let me see that.

"The following story is top secret."

If you love Wagstaff like I do,

then you need to know the truth.

Once you know, you can never un-know.

It all started last week while I was sitting in class.

Not two miles away, the worst evil

this world has ever seen had just traveled here.

Nude!

Clothing match... negative.

Whoa, cool yarn!

Clothing match... good enough.

Remain calm.

Remain calm. No! No!

Remain calm. Remain calm.

You sent me from the future to help you in this time,

to deactivate the student known as Louise Belcher.

What?!

Ow! Bad hug, bad hug!

Child called Louise Belcher...

I'm on my break.

Whoa. Are you a super strong robot from the future?

Wait, don't answer that. That's rhetorical.

I got to split.

Louise!

Calm down. It's me, Darryl.

Come with me if you want to continue to be alive.

Wait. Why do you look like that?

Because... I'm from the future.

Do they not have razors in the future?

Because that mustache is not okay.

Really? You don't think it looks cool?

Uh, nope.

Louise, listen, the Frond that's chasing us

is a robot from the future built by the real Frond

and sent back to destroy you.

No doy. I got that already.

I sort of figured this would happen at some point in my life.

Quick! In here!

I'm dodging for two. Hey, Louise!

Hey, weird future Darryl!

So, what did I do to him in the future, anyway?

It all happened on the day of your eighth grade graduation.

? The bombs bursting in air... ?

Hmm?

Aah! Hmm?

The brownie chair surprise!

I actually did it!

Yes. And from that day forward, Frond was never the same.

He quit his counseling job and boarded himself up

in his basement, working day and night on both a time machine

and a robot that he could send back in time.

Last week, he succeeded. How did you find out?

Because I'm also working on a time machine,

and we go on a lot of the same message boards.

So you used your time machine to get here? No. I had to use his.

Mine doesn't work and it starts fires.

So you came back through time just to tell me this?

Just to be a narrator? And you didn't bring any special weapons or anything?

Just a bucket load of exposition and a stupid mustache?!

Do you know what, Louise? At this point,

if I had any special weapons, I'd use them on you!

But you don't, right? I mean, just to clarify, Darryl.

Just to check that box. There he is!

Here comes the sweaty- Belcher-belly special!

Ha!

Louise! What? It was funny.

We got to run!

Grab the rope!

Ah...

Run, Gene!

Hey, guys, I know we're running

from Mr. Frond for some reason,

and though I'm totally willing to go along with it,

a little lunch would really hit the spot.

Small bits of pork throughout the day is what they say.

Actually...

Maybe someone will drop some food.

Come on, creamed corn!

Hey, guys,

- can I sit with you? - Oh, fine.

So, how's your day? Not great.

Yeah, me, too.

Why? Wh-What's happening?

Yeah, no, I'll be fine.

I-I, like... brought the wrong book to school.

Whoa! Mr. Frond!

You've been working on your fitness, girl!

We need more creamed corn!

I know! That's what I've been saying!

Run to the kitchen!

I'll deactivate all of you.

Mr. Frond, your skin burned off.

We made you a get-well card. It's a banana peel.

- This kitchen is so shiny! - Gene! Over here!

Hey, Frond!

Let's do lunch.

Ah, finally, something fun happened at school.

Kids, one; Future Frond, zero.

Hmm?

Uh... aw, crap.

So, now we're here, living off the grid in Mexico,

or... someplace, planning, waiting for when they find us.

I'm gonna take a nap under a warm tortilla

and then eat my way out when I wake up.

I've heard of a power nap, but a flour nap?

'Cause tortillas are made of flour.

He's under a tortilla.

If you're reading this... What?

Oh, no, I'm not talking to you. I'm writing in my journal.

Oh. 'Cause I... I can hear you.

Yeah, I say it out loud,

and then if it sounds good, I write it down.

Well, I'm kind of trying to sleep under a tortilla, so...

You know what? I am sick of being on this beach with you!

Okay, then go a little bit down the beach!

And by the way, we're in Belize.

It says it right on my hat!

"Un-Belize-able"!

We got them at a garage sale!

Yes! But it was just a mile away!

"If you're reading this, then there is still a chance

"for mankind, and more importantly a chance

"for a really great moment when everyone will think

Mr. Frond pooped his pants."

Well, I loved it. Yeah, it was good. I mean, it was a little...

some of the references I felt were a little... But whatever.

Okay, okay, I can see that I'm not getting through to you two.

But take a look at this.

Okay, Bobby, you read this one. This time, I just want

to listen and get carried away with the story.

Just want to close my eyes and listen to the story.

Okay, fine. Okay. Read it out loud.

"Fart School for the Gifted."

"It was lunchtime at Fart School for the Gifted..."

I love it already!

...the coolest school in the world,

And we were all jamming

to my new song, "Gas Class."

? Gas class! ?

? You wanna pass gas class? ?

? You gotta pass gas... ?

But then uncool counselor Mr. Frond

decided to be a total ding-dong.

All right, that's it.

I know this is Fart School for the Gifted,

but this is not a place for dancing or singing!

Whoa, nice song, Moz-fart!

That wasn't me.

I-I didn't fart.

If you liked that fart sound,

wait till you hear this one!

I've been working on it all year.

It'll literally blow the roof off of the school!

Aah! Give it!

Give!

Until you prove that you can behave better,

I'm confiscating your keyboard.

Where are you taking him?!

To my office!

I mean, to somewhere you've never heard of.

Not my office.

No! I'll just follow him and find out.

Aw! Can't believe it!

Mr. Frond is probably tickling the ivories.

And they're probably laughing,

because they don't know any better.

Well, there's nothing we can do.

Sounds like you aren't getting that keyboard back

until you learn to behave better. Or plan "B":

We get it back by behaving worse.

Keep talking.

Uh-oh, I'm listening to music on a portable tape player,

and it's making me very curious about sex.

No, no, no, no.

No curiosity in the halls.

I'll need my lock-picking kit.

No, you won't. I've got mine right...

? Here... ?

Hmm?

We've got to get to the P.A. system.

But they already did the morning announcements.

Remember? Jody had a birthday,

and the canned food drive is going great.

That is all.

That is not all.

I have a special announcement.

Aah. Aah!

And turn.

Hey, uh, there's a Brendan Fraser DVD

just sitting in a bush outside.

Oh. Mine, mine. Mine, mine, mine, mine,

mine, mine, mine, mine, mine.

You come out of there right now.

Oh, I'm not coming out... but this is. ? ?

? When you feel like school ?

? Has sucked the wind out of your sails ?

? Remember that it's cool ?

? To use the wind that's in your tails ?

? Fart, fart, fart ?

? Fart, fart, fart, fart ?

? Every fart is a work of art ?

? Don't know where to begin? Don't know where to start? ?

? Farts will set you free ?

? It's that gas from your ass, it's that toot from your boot ?

? That hum from your bum, it's that loot in your chute ?

? All that air from your own derriere ?

? Come on and set it free ?

? 'Cause farts are liberty ?

What do we want to do?

Fart, fart!

Open up your butt cheeks.

This is how our butts speak.

Let's...

go...

Fart!

? It's that gas from your ass ?

? It's that toot from your boot ?

? That hum from your bum ?

? It's that loot in your chute ?

? All that air from your own derriere ?

? Come on and set it free ?

? 'Cause farts are liberty ?

? 'Cause farts will ?

? Set you ?

? Free! ?

? 'Cause farts will set you ?

? Free! ?

The end.

Are you crying?

Oh, it's so beautiful.

His farts set them free. He's a hero. Don't you get it?

A hero? He wants to destroy the school with farts.

Oh, come on. It was pretty ambiguous, Frond.

I think he wanted the reader to decide...

if the fart destroyed the school.

Well, it was... it was still gross.

Oh, it was beautiful.

And speaking of gross.

Heh. "Tina Belcher's Erotic Friend Fiction presents:

A Tale of Horror."

I'm Tina Belcher. I love Wagstaff.

I love it so much that I became the volunteer sheriff.

Okay, I mean hall monitor,

But that's like the sheriff of the hall.

Something felt off that morning.

I could feel it in my bones.

My arm bones, my leg bones.

All the bones.

Aah.

Hey, Tina, let me in. I'm late.

Tammy, you're tardy. I have to write you a citation

if you don't have a note. Ugh.

Don't be such a tattle-tampon.

I don't want to get detention.

Sorry, Tammy, but I...

Hello.

Excuse me, boys, but do you have hall passes?

Or tall passes?

Okay, thanks, Tina, you're a sucker. See you later.

No, Tammy, come back, I...

No! ...got, uh...

Wow, she's not cool.

We have hall passes.

We're on our way to get our jock itch vaccination.

Glad to hear it.

Jock health is the most important kind of health.

Good luck. Great.

I hope to see you at the pep rally today.

Not if I hope to see you at the pep rally first.

Swish.

Nothing but butt.

Oh.

Whoa. That boy's jock

must have really itched.

Aw. Well, I should get going.

That rally isn't gonna pep itself.

Come on in. Watch your step.

Y'all ready for this?

Uh, ooh, mmm, basketball!

Basketball...!

And now, here come your district quarterfinal champions,

the Wagstaff Whalers.

Yay.

Oh, that's weird.

Oh, stop eating my shoulder.

Now I can't wear halter tops, you stupid zombie.

Oh, no, zombies are attacking the school.

And I already bought Tammy a halter top for her birthday.

Oh, no, the jock itch vaccine must've turned the players

into zombies. We spent so much time asking

if we could cure jock itch,

we never asked if we should cure jock itch.

Aah.

Aah!

Guys, this way.

We'll be safest in the teacher's lounge.

It's the only door on school property that locks.

Plus you can smoke in there, in case

anyone is feeling stressed out. No judgment.

Oh, no, it's locked. What?

Is somebody in there? No.

Mr. Frond, you have to let us in.

The zombie JV basketball team is right behind us.

You know, I... I'd love to, but, uh... my...

This... ...won't budge.

Mr. Frond, open the door.

No. You can't leave us all out here

to get infected. We're just kids.

Ow!

The door hurt my knuckles.

All right, look, let me explain.

I have to keep myself safe so I can guide those who survive.

They're gonna need me.

- Makes sense. - Mr. Frond, there's a...

You just stay in there. Keep yourself safe.

You're so important. We'll be fine.

- Yes, I think that's b... - aah!

I wonder if she can taste his sadness.

Oh, no.

Uh-oh. We've got trouble.

Oh, no. We're cornered.

Throw Gene at them.

I'll soil myself to become less appetizing.

Damn you, low-fiber diet.

Hey, let's spit on 'em.

That's what my stepmom does to me

when I walk in on her in the bathroom.

Great idea, Zeke. Spitting.

Spit on 'em. Yeah.

- Come on, do it. - Big-time loogies.

Oh. Gross, Zeke.

Whoa, they're trippin' on your flippin'.

Keep going, girl. Yeah, it's working.

They think you're flirting with them.

Say something nice about their eyes.

Mmm, mmm, mmm.

I'm losing them.

Turn it up, T.

Get your flirt on, girl, come on.

Okay. Everyone, stand back.

Mmm. Mm-hmm. Hmm, hmm.

Tina, no!

I think we're safe now.

I've got them eating out of my hands,

instead of actually eating them.

Because they're zombies.

Man, girls always go for jocks.

Follow me, fellas. Let's go somewhere

where the 16 of us can be alone.

If your butts fall off, pick them up and put them back on.

She was never really mine, was she?

Who? Oh, Tina.

It wasn't easy dating 15 zombies at once.

Oh, wait, yes, it was.

Thank you, zombie boyfriends.

"Soon, I couldn't tell where I ended

"and the zombies began. Butts, butts.

I love butts."

Okay, I-I think that's enough. I got it.

It-it got weird.

So I think you can see why this one could not be displayed.

I don't know. You're kind of making a big deal

out of nothing. I mean, they're just

a bunch of kids' stories, Frond. Come on. But... but...

But-but... but... But... but...

What? Why... why don't they...

Why don't they like me?

I mean, I... I'm the villain

in all of these stories.

Aw, don't cry, Mr. Frond, come on. I'm not crying.

You are crying. Hey look, you weren't that bad

in Tina's story.

What? I was a coward!

I locked myself in a room

while children got eaten!

What?

Say it again. I said...

Okay, okay. I locked...

Say it, don't... ...myself...

Okay. ...in a room...

Mmm. ...while children were eaten!

Look, Frond, uh, you're...

You're not a villain; You're... you're just...

You know, you're c... You're complicated.

What? And you're really uptight.

What? But, I mean, it's not like you

actually took Gene's keyboard away.

Yes, I did. I have it right here.

Oh. Well, so maybe relax a little. Right?

Try to talk to the kids about kid stuff.

You know? Relate to 'em. On their level.

Okay. So, like, um, chicken nuggets and, uh, e-mail.

Uh... Well, you're... You know,

you'll get to something eventually.

Maybe I should try to spend more time with them. Huh?

Yeah, or... Yeah, or the opposite.

Bob, Linda, thank you.

I feel like we've had a major breakthrough in here today.

Let's hug.

Ow, ow. Let's seal this heal.

Ow. Okay.

This feels good.

So, are you gonna put their projects up?

Absolutely not.

Linda.

Wha... What? Oh. Look, look, look.

Oh, my God. Oh, my God.

She got him.

Okay, okay. She got him.

Well, it's time for me to get back out there

and give the big keynote speech:

"Behind the Student Body."

This is where I really get to

show that superintendent my best side.

You show him. Yeah, well, tonight's gonna be your night.

Thank you, Belchers.

Oh, my God. Get your purse.

Got it. And Gene's keyboard.

Yup. Let's go.

Let's go.

I'm ready for Pasta Prom!

You look gorgeous. Mmm.

It happened. I felt it.

The brownie chair surprise.

What? Oh, nothing, Tina.

Nothing at all.

What happened?

Uh, just... I, um...

Wait, what did you say? Brownie chair supplies?

No, Gene.

Brown hair supplies. Is chair supplies...

No. "Brownie chair surprise."

Right. What is that?

Okay, you put a brownie on a chair,

Uh-huh. and then you walk away.

How is the brownie at all surprised by this?

No, the brownie's... Yeah, what...

Why... Why are you pranking a brownie?

Somebody takes a seat without looking

and they got brownie on their butt.

Oh! God, it doesn't sound as good when I say it out loud.

So it looks like somebody sat in a pile of poo

that they put in their chair on purpose. Yes!

Right. There is more to... Yeah.

That is a great but unusual prank. Thank you.

So what happened?

? It's that gas from your ass, it's that toot from your boot ?

? That hum from your bum, it's that loot in your chute ?

? All that air from your own derriere ?

? Come on and set it free ?

? 'Cause farts are liberty ?

What do we want to do?

Fart, fart!

Open up your butt cheeks.

This is how our butts speak.

Let's... go... fart!

? It's that gas from your ass, it's that toot from your boot ?

? That hum from your bum ?

? It's that loot in your chute ?

? All that air from your own derriere ?

? Come on and set it free ?

? 'Cause farts are liberty ?

? 'Cause farts will set you free...! ?

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