THE CHARLIE ARC (Part 5)
Threadbare South Park
Episode #105: "Post-Dramatic Stress Disorder"
NOTE: This piece is written in the form of a script. It's rated T for naughty language. Mr. Garrison speaks for Mr. Hat. Kenny's lines are parenthesized to indicate that they are muffled. This story takes place when the kids are in the third grade.
Author's Note: I name and, to some extent, describe a number of psychological/behavioral disorders in this piece, including (but not limited to) post-traumatic stress disorder, Aspberger's syndrome, borderline personality disorder, oppositional defiant disorder, gender dissociation disorder, and paranoid schizophrenia. I acknowledge that all of these disorders are very real and not at all funny for those who struggle with them. I use them in a funny context, but not because I find the disorders themselves funny. It is not my intention to offend, so remember when reading that the way these diagnoses are made and handled do not reflect my opinions on how mental illnesses/social disorders should be treated.
ALL CHARACTERS AND EVENTS IN THIS EPISODE-EVEN THOSE BASED ON REAL PEOPLE-ARE ENTIRELY FICTIONAL. ALL CANON CHARACTERS' LINES ARE WRITTEN BY PROJECT B...POORLY. THE FOLLOWING SCRIPT CONTAINS COARSE LANGUAGE AND DUE TO ITS CONTENT SHOULD NOT BE READ BY ANYONE.
The show opens with a view of the Marsh's house from the outside. It's late at night and all the lights are off. Inside Stan's room, we see that the clock says 2:48 AM. There is no sound inside the house. Stan is sleeping. Suddenly, someone starts screaming. It is high-pitched and shrill and sounds scared. The instant the screaming starts, Stan jolts awake in bed.
Stan: What the…?
He rubs his eyes and gets out of bed. He walks into the hallway and into Shelly's room. He turns on the lights. Shelly is awake and looks toward Charlie, annoyed. Charlie has pinned herself in the corner of the room, has her hands on her head with her arms covering her face, and is screaming bloody murder.
Randy: What's going on in here?
Mr. and Mrs. Marsh walk up behind Stan, looking tired. Randy yawns. Sharon looks at Charlie and appears concerned.
Shelly (angrily): What's the matter with her? It's almost three in the morning! I need my beauty sleep.
Stan: Charlie, snap out of it.
Sharon walks over to Charlie and crouches down next to her.
Sharon: Charlie? Charlie, are you alright?
She puts a hand on Charlie's arm, but Charlie jolts away and starts screaming louder.
Shelly: Jesus, what's wrong with her?
Sharon: She's having a night terror.
Stan: What's a night terror?
Sharon: Sometimes, children have nightmares that make them scream or cry in their sleep.
Stan: Well, can you make her stop? I want to go back to bed.
Sharon: Charlie. Charlie, you're dreaming. Wake up, Charlie!
Shelly: Oh, please. Let me fix this.
Shelly gets out of bed, picks Charlie up, and whacks her against the wall. Then she drops her and walks back to her bed. Charlie opens her eyes for a moment. She's no longer screaming. Then she seems to just fall asleep again.
Sharon: Thanks, Shelly. Alright, everyone, let's get back to bed.
Stan walks from the room, looking a little bit confused. Sharon turns off the light as she and Randy exit.
The next morning, Charlie goes downstairs for breakfast. Randy, Sharon, and Stan are already there. Randy reads a paper and drinks coffee. Sharon does dishes. Stan is eating cereal. Charlie grabs a box of cereal off the counter and pours herself some. She sits down next to Stan.
Stan: What was your nightmare about last night?
Charlie (confused): I didn't have a nightmare last night.
Stan: Well, then why were you screaming bloody murder at three in the morning?
Charlie: I was screaming at three in the morning?
Stan: Yeah, you woke everybody up. Shelly had to beat you up to get you to stop.
Charlie (embarrassed): I didn't know I did that… I didn't mean to.
Sharon: You were just having a night terror. It's nothing to be embarrassed about.
Charlie: I'm sorry I woke you guys up.
Sharon: That's okay, Charlie.
Stan: Yeah, just try not to do it again.
The next night, we again get an outside glimpse of the Marsh house. In Stan's room, the clock says 2:27 AM. Everyone is asleep. Suddenly, Charlie starts screaming again.
Stan (waking up suddenly): Crap! Oh, not again…
He puts a pillow over his head and ignores it. In Randy and Sharon's room, Randy has done the same thing. Sharon tiredly gets out of bed and walks out of the room. Again from Stan's room, we hear Sharon go into Shelly's room. The following dialogue takes place out of view.
Shelly: I can't believe she's doing this again.
Sharon: Charlie? Charlie, sweetie, you need to wake up. …Charlotte! Wake up, dear! Charlotte!
Shelly: Jesus Christ, Mom, just let me do it.
There is a thump and the screaming abruptly stops. Back in the parents' room, Sharon walks tiredly back to bed. Randy still has a pillow over his head.
Randy (in a tired grumble): We've got to get that kid to a doctor.
At a psychologist's office, Sharon and Randy look on with some concern through one-way glass into a room where Charlie is talking to a psychologist. The psychologist is a balding, slightly overweight, white-haired man with a mustache. The room is mostly white, with a tile floor and no windows. There is a small table with a box of tissues in between Charlie and the psychologist. Charlie sits on a sofa. The doctor sits in a normal chair with a notepad. There is also a box with some toys against the wall. The Marshes can see the doctor talking to Charlie, and her brief answers, but they can't hear anything. Charlie looks nervous. Eventually, the doctor gets up and walks out of the white room into the area where the Marshes are waiting.
Randy: How does she look, Doctor?
Dr. Ingram: All I can say is thank God you people brought her in when you did. Given her mother's violent and antisocial tendencies, Charlotte quite likely has a genetic predisposition for mental illness. That coupled with her past physical and emotional abuse makes her little mind a veritable breeding ground for psychoses.
Sharon (putting a hand to her mouth): My goodness!
Dr. Ingram: Now, in order for me to get a better picture of little Charlotte's behavioral and social tendencies, I'd like to ask you a few questions.
Randy: Of course.
Dr. Ingram: Now, I've noticed that Charlotte's hairstyle and choice of clothes are rather sexually ambiguous. She also goes by the masculine nickname "Charlie." Has she ever given you reason to believe she identifies herself as male?
Sharon: No, I don't believe so.
Randy: She's a bit of a tomboy.
Sharon: Well, yes, that's true.
Dr. Ingram: I see. Now, from talking with Charlotte, I've gathered that all of her friends are male.
Sharon: Yes, she likes to play with our son and his friends. They're the same age, and they seem to get along very well.
Dr. Ingram: Does Charlotte frequently fly into violent outbursts or fits of rage?
Sharon: Oh, heavens no. She's a usually a very polite little girl.
Randy: Of course, she's gotten angry before… She's had fights with Stan and their friends.
Sharon: Yes, now that you mention it, she gets into fights with Shelly quite often too. Sometimes those fights get physical.
Dr. Ingram: Interesting. Has she ever physically harmed you or your children?
Sharon: Not that I'm aware of…
Sharon and Randy look at each other nervously.
Dr. Ingram: Well, after reviewing Charlotte's case file and interviewing her, it is my professional opinion that she is suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder, borderline personality disorder, and possibly a latent gender dissociation disorder.
Sharon: Oh my God. I can't believe she's been dealing with so many difficulties. Which one of those is causing the night terrors?
Dr. Ingram: My best bet would be the PTSD. I believe that she is struggling to cope with the memories of her abuse. This causes her to feel depressed, confused, and anxious. At times, she may relive traumatic experiences. I believe that these memories are causing Charlotte's nightmares.
Randy: Doctor, is there any chance that by fostering Charlie we might be putting our own children in danger?
Dr. Ingram: Of course; there's always a chance. For a child with her violent and unstable history, it could just be a matter of time before she snaps, grabs a kitchen knife, kills your entire family while you sleep, and paints the wall with your children's blood.
Sharon and Randy stare at him in abject horror. Dr. Ingram goes to the door of the white room and calls Charlie out. Charlie, who had been sitting on the couch, looking at the floor, gets up and walks out to the Marshes. They are staring at her with obvious fear. Randy holds onto Sharon's shoulders.
Dr. Ingram: I'll see you folks next week.
Randy: Wait, wait—Next week? Couldn't we schedule something earlier? Maybe tomorrow, or the day after at the latest?
Dr. Ingram: Well, I do have an opening tomorrow afternoon at three.
Sharon: Oh, yes! That would be perfect!
Dr. Ingram: Excellent. Do you think it would be possible for you to bring your son along too? I would like to get a better idea of how Charlie interacts with a child her age.
Randy: Of course.
Dr. Ingram: Then it's settled. I'll see you all back here tomorrow.
Dr. Ingram walks away. After a moment, Charlie takes a step towards Mr. and Mrs. Marsh.
Randy/Sharon (both flinching): Ah!
Charlie: What's wrong?
Randy: Nothing, nothing.
The three are in the car, driving home from Dr. Ingram's office.
Charlie: So what did Dr. Ingram say about me?
Sharon (nervous): What?
Randy: Only good things. Just good things.
Sharon: You're a very good girl. A very nice girl.
Charlie: Oh… Thanks, I guess. But did he say anything about my night terrors?
Randy: Night terrors? What night terrors? They don't bother me at all.
Sharon: Charlie, sweetie, if you want to get up and scream at three in the morning every day for the rest of your stay, I don't have a problem with it.
Charlie: So… he didn't know how to make them stop?
Randy (whispering to Sharon): What do I say? I can't make her mad. What should I say?
Sharon (whispering): I don't know! Just calm her down before she gets violent!
Randy: …Who wants… ice cream?
Randy and Sharon lie awake in bed. Both stare at the ceiling. Neither says anything for six or seven seconds.
Randy: You don't think it'd be… paranoid or anything if I… locked up all the knives, do you?
Sharon: Thank God, I was just thinking the same thing.
They both get out of bed and go down to the kitchen. They gather all of the knives and other sharp objects and lock them in a cabinet way up high. Sharon sighs in relief as Randy locks it up.
Sharon: I'm glad we—
The two turn around and see Charlie, looking tired and groggy, standing in the kitchen with them. They both wear expressions of terror (bean mouths) as she shuffles past them.
Randy: W-what are you doing down here, Charlie?
Charlie: Getting some water.
Randy and Sharon don't move or stop looking at her as she gets a cup from the cabinet, goes to the sink, and fills it with water. She takes a drink, then looks at them quizzically.
Charlie: What's wrong? Did I do something?
Sharon: No! No! Nothing's wrong. You're being a good girl, Charlie.
Randy: Yes, you're a very good girl. Or you could be a good boy; it wouldn't make a difference to us.
Sharon: Right, we wouldn't hold it against you. You go out there and be whoever you want to be. We won't ever try to stop you.
Randy (slowly and loudly): We are not obstacles to be eliminated. We're your friends. We're good.
Charlie stares at them, her mouth open a little. Randy and Sharon wear forced smiles. Randy is visibly sweating. Charlie looks down at her drink, and then back at the Marshes.
Charlie: Then I guess I'll go to bed now. Goodnight.
Sharon: Great, goodnight, Charlie.
Neither parent moves as they hear Charlie walk up the stairs, across the hall, and into Shelly's room.
There is another shot of Randy and Sharon lying awake in bed for several seconds.
The next day, Randy, Sharon, Stan, and Charlie sit in the waiting room at the psychologist's office.
Stan: This sucks. I don't want to talk to a dumb psychologist.
Sharon: Well, you're here, so stop complaining.
Charlie: I have to talk to this guy two days in a row. I hate this place.
Randy and Sharon start to act a bit panicky.
Randy (speaking slowly and forcefully): Calm down, Charlotte; calm down. It's all right. This is a good place. We're all your friends here.
Sharon: You're being a very good girl, Charlie. You just keep behaving yourself, and we'll get you ice cream once we're done. Does that sound good?
Charlie: …Uh, sure, I guess.
Randy: That's a good girl. You're a good, nice girl, Charlie.
Sharon and Randy appear to settle down a bit. Stan and Charlie stare at them in confusion.
Charlie (leaning towards Stan and whispering): Your parents are acting really weird.
Sharon (in a shrill, terrified voice): Oh my God, Randy! She's going to bite him!
Randy grabs Charlie by the arms and squats down in front of her. He shakes her a little.
Randy (yelling): We're your friends, Charlie! Stan is your friend! You be nice to Stanley, now!
Stan (freaked out): What's the matter with you guys? She wasn't going to bite me!
Randy: Stay out of this, Stanley!
Sharon hugs Stan, who looks both annoyed and confused.
Charlie: I'm not going to bite him, I swear! I promise not to bite anybody!
Dr. Ingram enters the room.
Dr. Ingram: Goodness, what's going on here?
Randy: It's alright, Doctor… We... We got her under control.
Charlie and Stan sit on the couch in the white room from before. Dr. Ingram sits across the table from them with his notepad.
Dr. Ingram: Now, I understand you two don't get along very well.
Stan: That's not right. We're friends.
Dr. Ingram: Uh-huh. And you fight a lot, is that correct?
Stan: No. I mean, we yell at each other sometimes, but that's not really fighting.
Dr. Ingram: Stanley, does Charlotte hit you?
Stan is looking annoyed. Charlie looks worried and confused.
Stan: No, she doesn't hit me!
Dr. Ingram (taking notes): Hmm. Yeah. Now, I'm getting the impression that Charlie is the dominant individual in this relationship. Charlie, do you usually decide what to do? Are you the leader?
Charlie: Um, I don't think so.
Dr. Ingram: Does it make you angry when your friends don't do what you tell them to?
Dr. Ingram: Are you sure?
Charlie: I think so.
Dr. Ingram: And when you feel angry, do you ever want to lash out and hurt people? Do you think about hurting people very often, Charlie?
Dr. Ingram: What about the voices? Do you hear voices in your head?
Charlie (getting more freaked out): No.
Dr. Ingram: Do they tell you to hurt people?
Dr. Ingram: Stab people?
Dr. Ingram: KILL?
Dr. Ingram: Do they thirst for blood? Do they beg to taste the virgin blood of the innocent? To spill the yet unspoiled life-force of all humanity?
Charlie (squeezing her eyes shut and covering them with her hands): NO! STOP IT!
Stan (getting mad): Look, dude, you need to relax. Sure, Charlie's got some problems, but she's not a raving lunatic.
Dr. Ingram: Stanley, I need you to calm down. You're feeding off of Charlotte's nervous energy, and it has to stop.
Stan (pissed off): I need to calm down? You're the one who needs to calm down, jackass!
Dr. Ingram goes out into the waiting room where Mr. and Mrs. Marsh are sitting. He looks troubled.
Randy: What do you think, Doctor? Is Charlie a danger to our family?
Dr. Ingram: To some extent, yes. But… well, it's not just her. [Sigh.] I don't exactly know how to tell you this, so I'll just come out and say it. I believe your son is suffering from oppositional defiant disorder.
Sharon and Randy look at each other with surprise and concern.
Sharon: Oh goodness. What does that mean?
Dr. Ingram: Stanley comes across as highly aggressive. He would fly into a rage with only the slightest provocation and appears to have no respect for others, especially authority figures. He is sensitive and easily irritated. If left untreated, this could develop into a far more serious problem such as antisocial personality disorder.
Sharon: Oh my God!
Dr. Ingram: Thank God you brought him in today, Mr. and Mrs. Marsh. If you hadn't… well, it would have only been a matter of time before he became violent. Now, he's a little on edge right now, so be sure to be very careful and delicate with him for a few days, or he could explode into a frenzy of homicidal violence.
Randy: Oh God! What can we do for him, Doctor?
Dr. Ingram: Well, I host a therapy group for grade-school children where they can socialize and learn to understand and control their mental illnesses and disorders. Perhaps Charlie and Stanley would like to come.
He hands Mr. Marsh a flyer.
Randy: Yes… Yes, that sounds excellent. We'll sign them both up.
Dr. Ingram brings in Charlie and Stan.
Dr. Ingram: The first meeting will be tomorrow afternoon at four o'clock.
Stan: Tomor-? Oh, come on! Mom, do we seriously have to come back here again tomorrow?
Sharon: Now Stanley, we're your friends here. You just be a good boy and everything will be okay.
Stan: But we're supposed to go to Kyle's house tomorrow!
Sharon and Randy look at each other nervously.
Randy: …Who wants ice cream?
The Marshes, the Broflovskis, and the Stotches (Stephen and Linda) are having dinner together at the Broflovski house.
Sharon: …So we went back today, and after Dr. Ingram talked with Stanley, he said that he probably has some sort of "oppositional defiant disorder". Randy and I were shocked.
Sheila: I have to say, so am I! Your son always seemed like a well-mannered little boy to me.
Randy: I'm telling you, this guy is good. He can see sides of our children that we as parents are blind to.
Sharon: He really is a dream come true. I feel so much better knowing that Stanley will be seeing a psychologist for his problems now.
Stephen: You know, Linda and I have been thinking about taking Butters to see a psychologist for his self-esteem issues. Maybe we should see Dr. Ingram.
Sharon: Well, we would absolutely recommend him. He's opened our eyes to a whole new side of Stanley and Charlotte.
Linda: You know, it's a quite incredible thing you two are doing, caring for that poor boy.
Randy: Charlie is a little girl.
Mr. and Mrs. Stotch look at each other.
Stephen: Butters is so grounded!
Meanwhile, Kyle, Ike, Stan, Charlie, and Butters are eating at a little table in the kitchen. Unlike the other children, Charlie and Stan only have plastic sporks for utensils.
Butters to Charlie and Stan: So, uh, how come you two have to use sporks for dinner?
Stan: I don't know. Because my mom told us to.
Charlie: Stan's parents are acting really weird for some reason.
Stan: I bet it has something to do with that stupid psychologist.
Kyle: What psychologist?
Stan: He's some kook who thinks Charlie is some sort of nutcase and I'm an angry, maladjusted jerk.
Charlie: I'm "borderline" and I've got "post-dramatic stress disorder".
Kyle: What are those?
Charlie: I don't know. They're what I am, I guess.
Kyle: So they can't be that bad, right? I mean, you're not crazy or anything.
Charlie: I don't think so. Now, if you'd pardon me for a moment, I have to eat my steak without the luxury of silverware.
Charlie picks up her steak with her hands and takes a bite out of it. Stan is trying to cut some steak with his spork but can't.
Stan: This is such a pain in the ass. [He gets up and calls to his mother in the next room.] Mom! Can Charlie and I please use a normal fork and knife like everyone else?
Sharon (from the next room): No, Stanley, I'm sorry. How would you kids like some ice cream on the way home?
Stan (sitting back down): Damn it.
Later that night in the Marsh living room, Randy is watching TV and Sharon is folding laundry. Charlie, in her pajamas, walks halfway down the stairs.
Charlie: Mrs. Marsh, do you know what happened to my mattress and blankets?
Sharon: I moved them into Stanley's room, dear.
Sharon: It's just about bedtime for eight-year-olds, isn't it? I'll come and make sure you and Stanley get all settled in.
She walks to the stairs and nudges Charlie up. As they reach the top of the stairs, Stan exits the bathroom.
Sharon: It's bedtime, Stan. Charlie's going to be sleeping in your room tonight.
Sharon ushers the kids into Stan's bedroom.
Stan: What? Why?
Charlie: Are you sure this is entirely appropriate?
Sharon: Just think of it as a slumber party. It'll be fun! Now get in bed and I'll tuck you in.
Stan and Charlie get into their respective beds/mattresses. Sharon tightly tucks Stan in under the blanket.
Stan: Ow! Mom, you're choking me!
Sharon: That's my good boy. That's my nice, sweet boy.
She tucks Stan's blankets under the mattress and does the same for Charlie, essentially binding them in. They stare at her as she hurries to the doorway.
Sharon: Sleep tight.
Stan (annoyed): Don't worry, we will.
Sharon flicks off the light. From outside Stan's room, Sharon locks the door with a key and double checks the handle to make sure it's sealed. She goes back downstairs, where Randy still watches TV.
Randy: All locked up?
Sharon: Yep. That should keep Shelly and us safe for tonight, at least.
Inside Stan's room, Charlie squirms around, trying to free herself.
Charlie: What's the matter with your mom?
Stan: I don't know. [He snickers.] Maybe she's having her period.
There is a pause, then both Stan and Charlie giggle. Charlie eventually gets herself out from under the blankets and walks to the door. She tries the handle, but it's stuck.
Charlie: It's locked.
Stan: That bitch.
Charlie: I have to go pee.
It's the next day, and the kids are at the therapy session. Stan, Charlie, Butters, and two other kids (a boy around their age and a younger girl) sit in a circle of chairs in the white room with Dr. Ingram.
Dr. Ingram: I'd like to welcome all of you to the first session of our therapy group. Let's start by going around the circle and introducing ourselves. Stanley, why don't you start?
Stan: Uh, I'm Stan. I'm eight. And I've got oppositional defiant disorder.
Dr. Ingram: Everybody say hello to Stan.
Kids: Hello, Stan.
Charlie: I'm Charlie, and I have borderline personality disorder and post-dramatic stress disorder.
Dr. Ingram: That's "post-traumatic stress disorder."
Kids: Hello, Charlie.
Caleb: I am Caleb. I am nine years, four weeks, and five days old. My favorite… animal is the common or green anaconda, also known as the water boa, scientific name Eunectes murinus, a large, non-venomous snake found in South America. It is the heaviest known snake species and it can grow up to twenty-five feet in length. I have Asperger's Syndrome.
Kids: Hello, Caleb.
The next girl, Julia doesn't say anything. She looks at the floor.
Dr. Ingram: Julia, would you like to introduce yourself to the group?
Julia doesn't move.
Dr. Ingram: We're all waiting, Julia.
She starts crying and runs to the corner of the room. She faces the corner and puts her head between her knees.
Dr. Ingram: Let's just leave her alone for now. Let's move on to our last friend.
Butters: Oh, uh, hi. I'm Butters. I've got... uh... I've got skitter friends.
Dr. Ingram: Paranoid schizophrenia, Butters. Paranoid schizophrenia.
Butters: Oh, yeah. Paranoid skitzer… frenia. So I sure am glad to be here.
Dr. Ingram: Now, for our first group activity, we are going to talk about the things that make us angry, and what we want to do when we feel angry. Who would like to go first? Yes, Caleb?
Caleb: I feel angry when I meet someone who does not like snakes. I feel very angry when I meet someone who does not like snakes because I like snakes, especially the green anaconda. When I meet someone who does not like snakes, I want to make them like snakes, so I tell him or her lots of cool facts about snakes. I think that if that person learned more about snakes, then he or she would like snakes. When I grow up I want to be a herpetologist.
Stan: You want to study herpes?
Caleb: I want to study snakes. Herpetology is the study of snakes. I want to be a herpetologist and study the green anaconda. I have a pet snake. He is a corn snake. His name is Eunectes Murinus, which is the scientific name for the green anaconda. Corn snakes are very different from green anacondas. They are much smaller and they live in a completely different habitat.
Dr. Ingram: Caleb, when you meet someone who doesn't like snakes, do you ever want to hurt them?
Caleb doesn't say anything.
Dr. Ingram: Do you want those people to die?
Caleb: …When I meet someone who doesn't like snakes, I want them to like snakes. I want to tell them about snakes so they like snakes.
Stan and Charlie glance at each other.
We now see, from outside the white room, that the Marshes and the Stotches are watching the session through the one-way mirror.
Sharon: It looks like they're doing well in there.
Linda: I just hope that Dr. Ingram can bring Butters back to his senses. I… I'm still shocked over the diagnosis. I had no idea…
She starts crying. Stephen comforts her.
Stephen: There, there, Linda. Butters is in good hands. He's under the care of that… brave, brave man.
Randy: He's a modern-day hero, putting himself in danger to guide those lost souls back from the brink of insanity.
They all stare through the glass.
Sharon: We have to spread the word about Dr. Ingram's practice and all that he's done for our families.
Stephen: That's a wonderful idea, Sharon. There must be countless other children in South Park descending into madness whose parents don't even realize it.
The next day, Stan, Cartman, Kenny, and Charlie are standing at the bus stop. Kyle walks up to the group looking at the ground. His mother is walking behind him, holding a leash that's attached to a harness he's wearing. The others stare at him for a moment.
Stan: Um, Kyle?
Kyle (staring at his feet): Yeah?
Stan: Why is your mom walking you on a leash?
Kyle: Because I am violent and I have narcissistic personality disorder.
The other four start laughing. Kyle glares at the ground.
Kyle: This is your parents' fault, Stan. They're the ones who told my mom about that stupid psychologist.
Stan (laughing): Well, I bet they didn't say anything about a leash.
Cartman: Does your mom have a plastic bag with her to clean up your doodies?
Sheila: Kids, don't make fun of Kyle. Because of his narcissistic personality disorder, that will make him very angry, and he might respond with violence.
This makes the kids laugh even harder.
Stan: Oh no, Kyle might attack us!
Cartman: I'm so afraid!
Charlie (trying not to laugh): Knock it off, guys. [To Kyle] If it makes you feel any better, Mrs. Marsh checked Stan's and my backpacks for weapons before we left.
Kenny starts to laugh so hard that he takes a few steps over and falls down into the street. At that moment, the bus arrives, running him over. The other kids all stop laughing and looked shocked. The bus door opens.
Ms. Crabtree: HURRY UP! WE'RE RUNNING LATE!
Stan: Oh my God, she killed Kenny!
Kyle: You bastard!
Sheila unhooks Kyle's leash.
Sheila: You be a good boy today, Kyle, you understand? You're a good boy. You're a nice, sweet boy.
Kyle: Whatever, Mom.
Cartman, Charlie, Stan, and Kyle get on the bus. As the bus pulls away (with blood spattered on the front and sides), rats come to lick up Kenny's flattened corpse.
The kids are at school. Mr. Garrison walks into the classroom.
Mr. Garrison: Okay, kids, settle down. Now, before we get started, I'd like to introduce a visitor who will be speaking with each of you today. [Dr. Ingram walks into the room.] Kids, please welcome Dr. Ingram.
Charlie, Kyle, Stan, and Butters look terrified.
Dr. Ingram: Hello, children.
Mr. Garrison: Dr. Ingram is a psychologist, so his job is a bit like the school counselor Mr. Mackey's, but he's better educated and gets paid more. Several of your parents invited Dr. Ingram to come visit our class today to speak with you children and determine just how mentally unstable you all are. Over the course of the day he's going to speak with each of you individually to evaluate your psyches. Oh, except for Kyle, Stanley, Butters, and Charlotte, who've already been diagnosed with a whole mess of mental illnesses. [He looks at a sheet that gives details on the kids' "problems."] Dear Lord! Kids, I'd stay away from those four, if I were you. It looks like they're about ready to snap. Now, who wants to go talk to Dr. Ingram first? [The kids all slouch down in their desks and try to look inconspicuous.] How about you, Tweek? [Tweek is quivering and pulling on his hair.] Go on and talk to Dr. Ingram.
Tweek: Ah! Too much pressure!
Dr. Ingram: There is no pressure at all. We're just going to talk for a few minutes.
Tweek: Um… alright, I guess…
He jerks a few times gets up and follows Dr. Ingram out of the room.
Fifteen minutes later, Mr. Garrison is standing at the board. There are drawings of Japan and the eastern coast of Asia. (Just as a side note, he's talking about the Russo-Japanese War.)
Mr. Garrison: And so, as always, the United States had to step in and calm everybody down. President Teddy Roosevelt…
Tweek and Dr. Ingram walk back into the room. Tweek, looking sad (and jittery) sits down at his desk and rests his head on it. Dr. Ingram leads Wendy from the room.
Mr. Garrison (he had continued speaking this whole time): …And for the first and only time in history, an Asian country won a war against a European country fair and square…
Kyle (whispering): Tweek! What did he say?
Tweek (whispering): I have panic disorder. And Tourettes syndrome. Ah! I'm so messed up.
The clock is shown. Fifteen minutes pass and Wendy comes back into the room, also looking bummed. Clyde goes with Dr. Ingram. Again, the clock is shown. An hour and a half go by. About a third of the class is shown sitting in their desks, resting their heads on their hands/slouching/etc. with glum expressions. The clock again—this time we reach close to the end of the school day. Almost everyone looks bummed out. Bebe walks sadly to her desk from her talk with Dr. Ingram.
Mr. Garrison: Okay, class, who hasn't talked to Dr. Ingram yet?
There is a pause. Kyle points at Cartman, who had been slouching as to look inconspicuous.
Cartman: Damn it, Kyle!
Mr. Garrison: Go on, Eric. Everyone else talked to Dr. Ingram, and they're just fine.
The class looks sad. Clyde bursts into tears.
Cartman follows Dr. Ingram into Mr. Mackey's office. He takes a seat on the couch.
Dr. Ingram: Hello, Eric. I am Dr. Ingram. I am going to be giving you a psychological evaluation today.
Cartman: Whatever. Just make it fast. If you make me late for the bus, I'll have your job, shrink.
Dr. Ingram: It will be fast. Tell me, Eric; how often do you feel angry?
Cartman: Um, always.
Dr. Ingram: What makes you feel angry?
Cartman: Stupid-ass questions about my feelings. Are we done yet?
Dr. Ingram: Who is in your family, Eric?
Cartman: Why do you want to know?
Dr. Ingram: Just answer the question, please.
Cartman: Why should I?
Dr. Ingram: Do you like to hurt people, Eric?
Cartman: I'd like to kick you in the balls right now. Does that count?
Dr. Ingram: Now we're going to play a little word association game. I will say a word, and you say the first word that comes to mind. Ready? School.
Dr. Ingram: Mother.
Dr. Ingram: Blood.
Cartman: Dr. Ingram.
Dr. Ingram sighs deeply and rubs his temple.
Cartman walks back into the classroom, looking smug.
Kyle: What do you have, Cartman?
Cartman: Nothing. I am completely normal.
Kyle: No way. He diagnosed everyone in the class with something.
Cartman: Not me. My brain has a clean bill of health.
Dr. Ingram hands Mr. Garrison a sheet and walks out of the room. Mr. Garrison reads it and looks concerned.
Mr. Garrison: My God you children are messed up. Well, everyone but Eric, at least. Who knew?
Mr. Hat: I knew, Mr. Garrison. These kids are a bunch of fucked up retards.
Mr. Garrison: You got that right, Mr. Hat.
Stan, Kyle, Cartman, and Charlie get off the bus.
Kyle: Do you guys want to come over to my house?
Cartman: Ha, no way. I've got to find some friends who AREN'T completely insane. Screw you guys; I'm going home.
He walks away.
Kyle: Well, do you guys-?
Sheila: Kyle! Wait right there, bubby, I'm coming!
She comes running across the street to meet them. She's holding the leash and harness.
Kyle: Oh crap.
Stan: Ha-ha, and I thought my mom was—
Sharon: Stanley! Charlotte!
Sharon runs up to them. She is holding two leashes and two harnesses.
Stan: Oh no, not you too!
Sheila hooks up Kyle and Sharon starts to hook up Stan.
Sharon: It's for your own good, Stanley. It's because Mommy loves you so much. You're a good, nice boy, Stanley.
She kisses him on the forehead and hooks up Charlie.
Sharon: There. Don't you feel much safer now?
Sharon: Well, I do.
Sharon and Sheila laugh. The three kids look annoyed. Butters and Mrs. Stotch walk up to the group. Butters is also hooked up with a leash and harness.
Butters: Hey, fellahs. Are you all playing doggie too? I'm a golden retriever named Max. Woof! Woof!
Linda to the other moms: He thinks he's a dog. I feel like I'm losing my baby!
It is the next group therapy session. This time, all of the kids from the original group are there, plus most of the kids from the third grade. About half of the kids are wearing harnesses over their clothes. The kids have gone around and introduced themselves and their diagnoses. The last kid, Craig, is speaking.
Craig: I'm Craig and I have narcolepsy.
Dr. Ingram: Excellent. Now, we're still missing one little boy, so before we start our activities for today, does anyone have anything to share with the group? Any experiences or feelings they would like to express? [Charlie raises her hand.] Yes, Charlotte?
Charlie: I'm a little sad because my friend Kenny died this week.
Dr. Ingram: How sad. How did your friend die?
Charlie: He got hit by the school bus.
Dr. Ingram: Oh my God, Charlie. [He lifts up his clipboard and pen.] Did you kill Kenny?
Kyle: You bastard! It was an accident!
Dr. Ingram: So you killed the little boy, Kyle. How did you feel when the blood spattered on the pavement? Did you glow with pride when you heard the shrieks of horrified children? Did you—
Just then, the door to the white room opens and Kenny walks in. He waves to the group and sits down in a chair.
Dr. Ingram: Alright, it looks like our last friend is here. Everyone, say hello to Kenneth McCormick.
Kenny: (Hi guys. What's up?)
Dr. Ingram: Now about that… Hmm. What were we discussing just now?
The kids look confused, as if they are trying to remember what was just happening.
Stan: Weren't we… Weren't we talking about our problems? Like, Butters is schizophrenic and stuff?
Dr. Ingram: Oh, yes, right. Well, I suppose that just leaves Kenny. Now, Kenneth, I met with you this morning. Do you remember what your diagnosis was?
Kenny: (I'm a sexual sadist.)
All the other kids: Oooh.
Dr. Ingram: And do you remember what that means?
Kenny: (It means I'm supposed to be sexually aroused by violence and pain. I'm supposed to be into S and M and dominatrix crap and shit.)
Dr. Ingram: Exactly. And, like all of the other children here today, that makes you a very dangerous person.
Wendy: I'm not a dangerous person.
Dr. Ingram: You don't realize it, Wendy, but you and your friends are actually very sick. You have illnesses in your brains that will consume you without my intervention.
Kyle: But none of us have every actually been violent, and for the most part, we act like normal kids.
Dr. Ingram: Listen, children: just because you don't look sick, act sick, or feel sick doesn't mean that you're not sick. Now, let's play a game of word association.
The group sighs.
Charlie: Dr. Ingram? I think Julia wet her pants.
Dr. Ingram sighs and walks to the corner, where Julia sits in a puddle.
Dr. Ingram: Julia, what did I tell you about this? That's a bad Julia. You're being a bad, bad girl.
Julia starts sobbing and runs out of the room. Dr. Ingram sits back down.
Kyle: Shouldn't someone go make sure she's okay?
Dr. Ingram: Oh, she's fine, don't worry. Now let's start our game with the word "Polynesia."
The Marshes and Charlie are eating dinner. Charlie and Stan are using sporks again.
Randy: How did your session with Dr. Ingram go today?
Stan: It sucked. He keeps telling us about how violent and sick we are.
Sharon: You don't realize it yet, Stanley, but that man is a saving grace. He's really turning your life around.
Stan: But there's nothing wrong with me!
Shelly: You're a stupid turd; that's one thing.
Sharon: Shelly, no! [She holds onto Shelly's arm.] Randy, keep him calm!
Randy lunges and Stan and hugs him around the torso, keeping him from moving.
Randy: It's alright son. Everything is going to be alright.
Stan: You guys suck.
The kids are all at another therapy session, sitting in the white room. Charlie sits next to Julia. They are playing word association again. Caleb answers everything.
Dr. Ingram: Family.
Dr. Ingram: Teeth.
Dr. Ingram: House.
Dr. Ingram: Thank you, Caleb. Now why don't you try, Julia?
Julia stares at the ground and bites her lip.
Dr. Ingram: Window.
Julia doesn't say anything.
Dr. Ingram: Julia, I said "window." What does that make you think about?
Julia doesn't say anything.
Dr. Ingram: I'm losing my patience, Julia. What does a "window" make you think about? Do you think about pushing people out the window? Do you think about using the window's glass to cut people? Do the voices in your head tell you to leap out the window?
Julia starts crying and runs to the corner. Dr. Ingram rolls his eyes.
Dr. Ingram: Okay, then, now it's Charlie's turn!
Charlie: You just made her cry.
Dr. Ingram: She cries quite easily.
Charlie: I think you should talk to her and make her feel better.
Kyle: Yeah, don't you feel kind of bad?
Dr. Ingram: I've got a very big group and we do not have time to waste on a little girl who won't cooperate. Now, your first word is—
Charlie: I can't believe this. I cannot believe this!
Dr. Ingram: Does it make you want to hurt people? Does it make you want to see their blood?
Charlie: No, because believe it or not, I'm not a violent person. And neither is anybody else in this room!
Dr. Ingram: I need you to calm down, Charlotte. Let's practice our deep breathing.
Charlie: No! You listen to me! There are kids here like Julia who actually need help! But instead of spending your time helping them, you're busy convincing all of our parents [in a lower voice] and legal guardians [back to yelling] that the rest of us are unstable and violent and need intensive therapy! All this time you've spent dealing with us, you could've been talking to kids who actually need you! You know what you are? You're an asshole, that's what!
The parents watch with horror as Charlie gets up and starts yelling. They can't hear what's going on, but it's still scaring them.
Randy: Dear God! She's… she's getting confrontational!
Linda Stotch: Someone has to get in there and calm her down!
Stuart McCormick: Randy, you'd better go take care of her.
Randy: What? Why me?
Stuart: Well, she's your foster kid, isn't she?
Randy: Have you lost your mind, man? Who knows what sort of weapons she could be concealing in that puffy coat of hers!
Charlie (from inside the white room, now addressing the other kids): I'm not a psychologist. I'm just an eight-year-old kid with some issues to sort out. But I do know one thing that this Bozo apparently doesn't: I'm not violent, I'm not antisocial, and I'm not insane.
Linda: Oh my God! What if she hurts the others? Butters!
She lunges for the door, but Stephen Stotch and Randy hold her back.
Stephen: We… we can't go in there, Linda. It's too dangerous.
Linda: But my baby-!
Stephen: Butters is just as likely to turn violent as any one of those children. If we disturb them, they could all snap. And that would be the end for us all.
We now view the inside of the white room again. Kyle stands up.
Kyle: And I'm not a narcissistic threat to society!
Gerald (from outside): What's going on in there? [He puts his hands on the glass.] Kyle?
Inside, Stan stands up, then Kenny.
Stan: And I'm not a psychopathic animal torturer!
Kenny: (And I'm not a sexual sadist!)
Sheila: Oh, sweet Jehovah! Someone call 9-1-1 before it's too late!
Linda (sobbing into her husband's chest): Oh God, I can't look!
Inside, everyone is getting more excited.
Wendy: I'm not bipolar or bulimic!
Charlie, Stan, and Kyle: Yeah!
Craig: And I'm not narcoleptic!
All the kids: Yeah!
Sharon (on the phone): Yes, they're very unstable children. No, no one has been hurt yet, but it's only a matter of time before—
Randy: Give me that! [He snatches the cell phone.] Hello? We don't have times for these games, woman! These children are highly unstable and very violent! They might be armed! Send someone straight away before the carnage starts! …Oh, uh, Dr. Ingram's office… [He puts a hand over the speaker.] Honey, what's the address?
Butters: And I'm not schitz… uh… schitz… hmm… Uh, what am I supposed to be, Dr. Ingram?
Dr. Ingram (irritated): Schizophrenic.
Butters: Yeah, well, I'm not that!
Caleb: And I'm not a green anaconda, but I wish I was.
There is a pause. The kids glance at one another.
Charlie: So we're not going to sit here and let you scare our parents anymore, because we're not—
An officer kicks the door in and ten police officers rush the white room with guns, surrounding the kids from all sides.
Officer: Keep your hands in the air where we can see them!
The kids all raise their hands. Julia, in the corner, stares at the officers and stops crying.
Dr. Ingram: Thank goodness you got here when you did! These children are highly dangerous. They were threatening my life!
Officer: All part of the job, sir. [Suddenly, he lowers his gun and stares at Dr. Ingram.] Wait a minute. This guy looks familiar.
The officers glance at one another.
Officer: Oh my God. This is John Ingalls!
Dr. Ingram makes a run for it, but another policeman stands at the door and grabs him and throws him to the ground. Dr. Ingram is put in handcuffs. The parents come up to the doorway.
Sharon: Oh my God! What are you doing?
Officer: Ma'am, this man is no doctor. His name is John Ingalls, and he's a con artist wanted for the embezzlement of over two million dollars.
Sheila: Not a doctor? Then all our kids' diagnoses?
"Dr." Ingram: I made it all up. I made it up to scam you out of your money. Are you happy?
Officer: That's what I thought. Take him away, boys.
Kyle: Wait! I have a question.
Officer: Make it quick.
Kyle: Why did you diagnose everyone in the class with mental illnesses except for Eric Cartman?
"Dr." Ingram: Who, the fat kid?
"Dr." Ingram: Honestly, I just didn't want that kid coming to my office. He was a little douche-bag.
All of the kids from the third grade and their parents sit in the third grade classroom. A thin, Eastern European man in his forties or fifties enters the room.
Dr. Zimberger: I have finished reviewing all of the children's new psychological evaluations and have found that none of the diagnoses established by John Ingram to be valid.
The kids cheer.
Dr. Zimberger: The only exception is the case of Charlotte Pierzynski, who does indeed exhibit the characteristics of post-traumatic stress disorder.
Charlie: Damn it!
Dr. Zimberger: I recommend counseling. [He walks up to Mr. Marsh and hands him a business card.] Here is my card.
Stuart McCormick: So you're saying that none of our kids are dangerous? Except that one? [He points at Charlie.]
Dr. Zimberger: I am saying that none of these children are dangerous, period. Good God, they're eight years old! Did you really need a psychologist to tell you that?
He walks out of the room. The parents all look embarrassed and guilty.
Randy: Stan, Charlie, we're sorry for the way we were treating you.
Sharon: I guess we were more willing to believe what a psychologist said than what we should have seen ourselves.
Stan: So we don't have to wear leashes anymore?
Charlie: Or eat with sporks?
Randy: That's right. Now who wants some ice cream?
Stan and Charlie: Hooray!
THE END OF PART FIVE