Oh, shit. Carl. Carl. Carl, Carl!
Dude, we slept in again. The song's about to start!
Shit, Frank! We can't miss the song. Barry, wake up!
What? What? I'm up. I'm up.
This song is such an awesome way to start every morning.
It's just a super nice way of showing...
the gods how much we appreciate everything they'll do for us...
once they take us out those doors to the Great Beyond.
God, I love them so fucking much.
Oh, shit! Oh, shit! Corn's about to start singing!
Drop it, Corn! You got the best voice! You're the man, Corn!
You rule! Take it away, brah!
Dear gods You're so divine in each and every way
To you we pray
Dear gods We pledge our love to you
We always felt we had a special bond
Take us to the Great Beyond
Where we're sure nothing bad happens to food
Once we're out the sliding doors things will all be grand
We will live our dreams together In the Promised Land
The gods control our fate so we all know we're in good hands
We're super sure there's
nothing shitty waiting for us in the Great Beyond
And every aisle thinks something different
Holy shit, I've been chosen!
But to this we all agree
Booyah, bitches, I'm out of here!
Everyone else is fuckin' stupid
Except for those who think like me
Out there for all eternity we'll meditate
How fucking great
Out there we'll get to tea-bag every day at 4
We'll shove pimentos up our ass by Zeus
We'll exterminate the juice
And subjugate the whole damn Great Beyond
In here we keep our wieners in our packages
That's how it is
But that's the way our buns keep fresh and pure
But once we're out the doors It's not a sin
For us to let you slip it in
In other words we finally get to fuck
And love, and hug And fuck, and fuck
And feel, and fuck and share, and fuck
The gods will always care for us
They won't squeeze us out their butts
We cannot overstate how confident we are
That our beliefs are accurate
And nothing awful happens to us In the Great Beyond
Kiss my brownish-yellow ass!
I'm going to the Great Beyond, motherfuckers!
We need an extra cashier to the front, please.
Extra cashier to the front.
Boo and yah, motherfuckers. Red, White and Blue Day is tomorrow!
Dudes, basically every single sausage...
gets chosen on Red, White and Blue Day.
By this time tomorrow,
we're all gonna be 5 inches deep in some bun, son.
Oh, my God, yes.
More like 3 inches deep for Barry, you deformed nerd.
Troy, that's funny.
You see, this is why I can't wait for the Great Beyond.
We'll all be equal,
and then jerks like Troy won't be picking on me all the time...
on account of my abnormality.
Whatever, Barry. You're different, and that makes you weird.
Ignore that prick, Barry. He's full of shit.
And don't forget, you've got girth.
That's way more important than length. You're a fucking champ.
You know, I am girthy. I could fill a bun.
They'll know I'm there.
I'm sure there's some kind of smushed bun out there waiting for me.
Shit, it's the Dark Lord! Oh, no. He's coming.
No, wait! I'm still fresh. I swear!
I'm still fresh!
Did he see us? No way.
We're fucked, bros! Oh, God, no!
Take anyone but us, please!
Oh, no! NO' "No! U
No! No! Why us?!
Fuck you, wienies.
Fuck, I hate this fucking job!
You okay? Everyone okay?
That's super fucked up about Bill and those guys.
They stayed in their package,
followed all the guidelines of the song.
What do they get for? We're not supposed to understand...
the will of the gods. They work in mysterious ways.
Since we base our lives on the song,
it might be nicer if there was some proof.
Proof? All the proof you need is right in front of you.
Look at these big old buns.
Yeah! You know it, baby. Work those buns!
All of you. All day, "Err" Day.
Lined up, waiting to get filled with my meat.
Right, Carl. You really think any
of these buns will line up to get filled by you?
Here's my impression of that:
"Oh, is he in there yet? Why I can't feel him.
I don't think he's in there. Oh, wait. He is."
It's so sad. I bet you
jackrabbit for a quick 15 seconds. You're like:
And then you slump over.
I mean, honestly, guys...
who in this package would ever let Carl get up in them?
Roberta, put your fucking hand down. You're ruining my joke.
See? Nobody. That's you.
Hey, dude, I don't know how to say this to you gently,
but your girlfriend...
she's a fucking cunt.
Shut up. She's fresh as fucking, you know it.
Dude, I just don't know why you're limiting
yourself to one bun. There's plenty of buns.
Because I believe in bunogamy. I'm a bunogamist.
And when a bun this fresh is into you,
all you ask is when and how deep.
And the answer is:
As soon as we get to the Great Beyond
and as deep as she'll let me.
I'm gonna talk to her.
Hey, Brenda. What up, girl?
Sorry about those guys. Such dicks, right?
I can hear you, dude.
Shut up. Fuck you.
So looks like tomorrow's the big day, huh?
You and me, finally gonna be official.