Original subtitles

(earth rumbling)

(dark music)

(light music)

(soft military drumming)

- [Mayor] 1864, April 22nd.

I remember that day like it was yesterday.

A renegade troop of northern soldiers

fightin' in the so-called Civil War,

raped our women, murdered our children,

even took out my goddamn eye.

I can still hear granny's cries

as they burnt Pleasant Valley to the ground.

(distant screams)

They killed us all,

doomed us to a life in limbo.

Nothing more than ghosts seeking revenge.

(wind blowing)

I guess that's the way the good Lord wants it.

Eye for eye, tooth for tooth, as the Old Testament says.

One thing's for certain.

Our souls ain't ever gonna find rest

till all 2001 are avenged.

(tense music)

(gun firing)

(gun firing)

(pastoral music)

Yes sir, name's Buckman, Mayor George W Buckman.

And here in Pleasant Valley,

the anniversary of our tragic massacre has arrived.

And so have we.

Knives have been sharpened for justice.

The table set for revenge.

We try to make sport of it for the little ones. (chuckling)

No reason vengeance can't be fun.

Only thing missing are the Yanks.

And so, yet again,

we wait.

(soft music)

Must admit, Granny's been deeply loyal through the decades.

Just ain't into rubbing ankles with her no more.

Last time we did, I popped my sons.

(people grunting)

- Filthy scum.

- I think that's them coming now.

- What in the blazes?

(bluegrass music) - Come on.

* The south's gonna rise again

(crowd hooting)

* The south's gonna rise again

(bluegrass music)

* The south's gonna rise again

- You ain't gonna like this none, daddy.

- Sheriff Freeman here done tore down the detour sign.

- Will you please?

Damn.

What seems to be the problem here, my good Sheriff Friedman?

- The problem, my good mayor

is every spring I get calls from the state police

after y'all's little festival,

looking for missing northern folk.

Up till now I've played ball with y'all.

But now I got feds sniffing around my butt.

- You played ball with y'all,

'cause we have paid you quite a generous bounty

for your stewardship.

Ain't that right, sweet cream?

- You didn't mind me when you was a

cub scout, did you little baby?

- No ma'am.

- You wouldn't be pretending you can resist me?

- No ma'am.

- That's what I thought.

- Look, milk or no milk,

I ain't dropping the soap in prison for none of you.

Ain't gonna be no more jamborees.

No more feasting. No more killing.

None of it, is that clear?

- Clear as a nighttime kiss

on a young possum's cooch.

- This town used to be a jewel in the crown of the South.

You maniacs have squeezed it into a turd.

- Now hush up you big baby, you're ruinin' all of the fun.

- Amen, Harper.

Why such ungratitude brings a tear to my eye

when I think of all the hard work

that went into making this thrill ride.

Am I right, folks?

(crowd cheering)

- Damn you and your thrill ride.

- Well, if that's how you feel,

guess we'll have to tick you a little on the way down.

- Now hold on a minute.

Wait a minute, y'all.

Come on now.

(ominous music)

Hold on a minute.

Will you make a deal?

(crowd shouting)

- No deal.

- Fuck you and your maniacs.

Wait, wait a minute.

- Bye bye.

- [Sheriff] No. No!

- Okay, folks, what time is it?

- [Crowd] Roll out the barrel.

- Roll out the what?

- Roll out the barrel.

- I'm sorry, I can't hear you.

- Kill that motherfucker.

(crowd cheering)

- You got it.

One,

two,

three. (laughing)

(drum roll)

(sheriff grunting)

- Bullseye.

(crowd cheering)

(sheriff grunting)

- Oh.

Oh, let's hear some of that old death rattle.

(sheriff spitting)

- I'll see you in hell, Buckman.

- We already there.

(mayor grunting)

(bluegrass music) (lyrics muffled)

- Oh well, Bucky,

if the northern folk won't come to the south.

- Why, we'll bring the south to them. (laughing)

(rock music)

* Old (indistinct) way down south *

* Steel in their hands and blood in their mouth *

* Driven to the north and the animate man *

* They're gonna get their revenge on anyone they can *

* Well, the game is simple

* Just run for your life

* They're gonna hunt you down

* And cut you up with a knife

* Killers on the highway

* Raise a bloody fist and give a rebel yell *

* Killers on the highway

* They're gonna strike you down *

* And drive you straight to hell *

* It's all goin' out on a deserted road *

* People go in but they never go home *

* Come into your town on the lost highway *

* It's free to get in but there'll be hell to pay *

* Well the game is this

* You'd better run for your life *

* They're gonna hunt you down and cut you up with a knife *

* Killers on the highway

* Raise a bloody fist and give a rebel yell *

* Killers on the highway

* They're gonna track you down

* And drive you straight to hell *

* Killers on the highway

* Raise a bloody fist and give a rebel yell *

* Killers on the highway

* They're gonna track you down

* And drive you straight to hell *

- [Speaker] Right there on the road.

Don't forget to check the back seat.

- [Announcer] Next week on Road Rascals,

the old South gets a taste of Beverly Hills,

as America's favorite debutantes,

Rome and Tina Sheraton, head to Georgia.

- Watch out red states.

- Because we're coming your way.

- [Rome] I hear the south smells like shit.

- [Tina] Isn't the liberty bell in Georgia?

- I heard they have these bugs there called chiggers

that sleep in your puss.

- Those Mexican cleaning ladies better not bitch us out.

My sister has got to ditch that icky dead dog.

Yeah, it was sad when biscuit died,

but then Rome went and got it taxidermed.

- I cannot stand my sister's boyfriend, Falcon.

He's so gay.

Hello?

- Tina's not for sure.

But, you know, I mean,

it's not like we're married or anything.

- Yo, yo, yo.

What plays in Georgia, stays in Georgia.

Just don't tell Rome, right bro?

* La la la la la la

- [Announcer] All this and more next week on Road Rascals.

- [Rome] So that's the promo.

- Nice.

- Don't you just love it?

- Absolutely.

Red State, blue state, Rome and Tina Sheraton.

The wing of the left

flying deep into the heart of the right.

I think we're talking Golden Globe on this one.

- Why so shortsighted, Jerry?

I mean, why not Pulitzer or the Nobel?

What could possibly be more prize winning than these two

jiggling their tits across the heartland?

- Bristol, please.

- Well, I know mommy's little biscuit loved it, didn't she?

Mm.

- Mommy's little Biscuit doesn't love anything anymore.

Would you bury that bone already?

It fucking stinks.

- Why do you have to be such a goddamn tool, KJ?

- I'm not the one lip smacking a stuffed corpse.

- Tina.

Falcon.

- Dude, stop bagging on the rat.

Ah, I mean, Kay.

Can't you show Biscuit just a little respect?

- Bro, who's on the fucking leash?

You, or the bag of sawdust?

- Look, dude, I kiss her ass, she makes me famous.

(van running)

(driver sniffing)

- Fucking cheapskates putting up some damn curtain

like I'm the fucking hired help.

Where the fuck are we anyway?

Iowa?

What the fuck is in Iowa?

Hey, I know I shouldn't have let you drive.

- Would you get off your rag already?

How many times do I have to tell you,

mama wants a hard shell taco,

and all you got is soggy (foreign word).

- Shut up, baby.

I got a hard shell taco.

You just need the supersize it, now back to work, sweetie.

Come on. Come on.

There you go, now shut the fuck up and suck it.

- [Jerry] Okay, yes, yes, yes.

I see, I can see it.

I see a new moon rising. (laughing)

(pop music) (lyrics muffled)

- Excuse me.

I've had enough of this shit.

I know that you and these heiresses

like to do whatever you want down Rodeo Drive.

But here, I'm the producer.

I'm the boss.

There'll be no partying, no drugs, and no sex.

- Think he could put that no sex clause

in Jerry's contract?

- I mean, where's the respect?

I mean, I'm the fucking driver,

the fucking production assistant,

the fucking caterer.

The fucking, fuck oh fuck, baby.

- We're a full-time party girls, Val.

Okay? It's what we do.

And it's like you don't want us doing what we do.

- Yeah, like making me wear panties to the Saturn Awards.

Or not letting Romey shave her head.

- Girls, girls, girls.

It's not about wearing panties

or shaving your pussy, heads.

It's about not letting these parasitic boyfriends

drag you down.

You gotta evolve into modern women.

- More like modern rug munchers.

(driver achieving sexual satisfaction)

(driver shouting)

(all screaming)

- [Speaker] Get off of me.

- What the is wrong with you, Jesus?

- It's Jesus, puta.

And I hit a fucking detour sign.

- In the middle of the road?

- Yeah, in the middle of the road.

- How much is this gonna cost me, Jesus?

- Well knowing your cheap ass,

you probably over-insured this piece of shit.

So the way I see it, I just made you some money, bruja.

- Look, look, they spelled it the French way.

- Where the fuck are we, anyway?

- [Jesus] Iowa.

- How the fuck did we get to Iowa?

- Sorry, I was a little bit distracted.

- Hey, we could always camp out.

You know, get the girls

in thongs... - Whatever.

- ...roasting marshmallows.

It would make for some great footage.

- I don't think so.

This place looks way too creepy.

- Yeah, it makes biscuit's hair stand up.

- That would be the formaldehyde, babe.

- Dude, respect.

- For once I agree with the debutantes.

Let's just get out of here.

- Hate to interrupt the production meeting,

but I got two busted front tires and only one spare.

We ain't going nowhere.

- Here, call Triple A.

- Yo, call them yourself, diabla rubia.

- God, do I have to do everything?

(dialing phone)

There's no signal.

(Jesus speaking in foreign language)

- Pleasant dreams, mijos.

(door closing)

(owl hooting)

- But, they spelled it in French.

(dark music)

(ethereal whispering)

(ethereal whispering continues)

- KJ, I said, no anal.

- Babe, don't look at me.

- I was just checking the this the battery, and-

- Come on babe, let's get some privacy.

- [KJ] That's right, fool. Get sticky with yourself.

- Oh yeah, baby. Lower, lower.

Break the clam. - That good?

- Break it. - Is that good?

Break it. Break the clam. break it.

- You like that? - Break it.

- You like that? - Yeah.

Now give biscuit a nice big smile.

(Rome screaming)

(sighing) Nightmare.

Tinkle time.

- Make that tinkle for two.

- Let's finish together this time.

One,

- Two.

- Three.

- [Rome] What the fuck?

- Welcome to Pleasant Valley, sorta.

(bluegrass music)

(lyrics muffled)

Woo ha.

Allow me to introduce myself.

Name's Buckman, George W Buckman.

And y'all have arrived just in time

to be our special guests

at the Pleasant Valley Traveling Jamboree.

(crowd cheering)

- You clowns for real?

- As real as it gets, nacho.

- That's right.

Now, back in our hometown

of dear old Pleasant Valley, Georgia,

every year about this time we put on a-

- Whoa.

- Huh? What the hell is that?

- Why, that's my pooch box.

- Pooch box?

- Scarlet Red means love box, gentlemen.

Come her 18th birthday, our mayor presents her with the key.

- She's very progressive.

- Oh, you good at licking rock Hollywood?

- Hell, I'll lick your rock silly, babe.

- China Rose was trying to say,

picking locks,

my lock.

- I can pick locks.

When I was a kid, I broke into a shul,

and the shamus caught me lifting a holla.

- Holy moly.

Folks, we got ourselves a Hebrew.

(all laughing)

- That's Jew to you, Colonel.

- Jew, Hebrew, Christ killer.

It's all the same in Spain. (laughing)

That reminds me,

what's the difference between an Israeli and an Israelite?

About a hundred calories.

(all laughing)

Moving right along folks.

Every year down in Georgia,

we put on a show, - Wait, wait a minute.

Did you say Georgia?

- Why, yes ma'am, our proud southern state.

- Do you think we could cheat this locale for Georgia?

- For the right price,

I could play Laguna Beach for the Golan Heights.

- What's all the whispering about?

- Mayor Buckman?

Turner, Val Turner, producer.

- Ooh.

- Well I do declare that we shall join your jamboree.

- Well, that's great news.

Hit it, Crow.

(bluegrass music) (lyrics muffled)

(bluegrass music continues)

(military drumming)

(dark music)

Christ on a cracker, boys.

After all these 140 odd years,

sometimes I think we should just

burn the whole goddamn north in one giant bonfire.

Ah, but ah,

what's the style in that?

A one shot discharge?

- None, Captain, my Captain. None at all.

- Damn right, Harper.

Besides, it goes against tradition.

And quite frankly, tradition,

about all we got left.

- The network is going to love this bunch

of redneck outsiders

who thought the South won the Civil War.

- They didn't.

- No Tina, they didn't.

- That's right, it was a Nazis.

- Anyway, while our sister act putties up,

Jesus, you and Cherry go and do some scouting.

See if you can find some indigenous locations around here.

You do know what indigenous means, right?

- Hey Val, why don't you, me, and Bristol

do some interviews with the hicks?

You know, put a face to the place.

- If you don't mind,

I think I'd rather go with Jesus and Cherry.

- What do you, you got a thing for this cholo?

- What's that, Spielberg?

Do you want me to give you a second bris?

- Chill out, Jay.

Look, I'll carry his shit.

You just go show Miss Thang a good time.

Make sure you save enough sugar for Black Cherry. Cool?

- Cool.

- Whatever.

- Come on, get over it, Jerry.

Come on, come on.

If we nail this, the network is gonna be talking spinoffs.

Pay-per-view, Blu-Ray box set.

These fine folks of Pleasant Valley play ball,

this gig will never end.

(ominous music)

- I know I speak for us all sir,

when I say I'm proud to be among the chosen few

here with you in the translocation of the troubles.

- Well, God bless you Harper.

You know, you're a regular goddamn Mark Twain

with your poeticizin'.

You have earned your spot on the bus.

Y'all did.

- Even Jezebel, too daddy?

- Yeah, Jezebel too.

Except she earned her spot

in the section called, provisions.

- Daddy, you don't mean you're gonna harm Jezebel.

I mean that stuffed piece of lamb jerky

is gonna be on my dining room table

next to some mint jelly and a good bottle of Muscatel,

unless you boys go out there

and get me some Yankees quick.

Now skedaddle.

And make me proud.

Or something like it.

(upbeat music)

- So when's your CD dropping?

- End of summer.

- Excuse me, Your CD?

What happen to our CD?

We can't do everything together, Romey.

Besides it's music, not a basketball team.

- Yeah, the label wants for me to record too.

Emo meets death metal.

Ballads with balls. (laughing)

(rock music) (lyrics muffled)

- Yo, yo, yo, check out Abda.

Mackin' on my boy's dill pickle.

Dude, I ever tell you about the time

I totally fucked my babysitter?

- Bro, I thought you said your uncle was your babysitter.

- Nevermind.

- So what's a hottie like you

doing with a limp dick like Jerry?

- (laughing) Ever heard the one about

the dumb blonde who slept with the writer

to get ahead in Hollywood?

Guess that's me.

- Oh baby, you're no dumb blonde, you're just misinformed.

See, it's not the writers or even the directors

who got the forward in Hollywood.

It's the Teamsters.

You stick with me, I'll hook you up.

- Yeah, like I've never heard that one before.

- Bitch, I ain't playing you.

- Oh yeah? So who you gonna hook me up with?

- For one a bunch of buddies of mine

got this indie horror thing going on.

See, horror's hot as hell these days, you know?

- I would love to get killed in a horror flick.

- I bet you would, and I bet you'd look good, too

all naked and covered in blood and guts and shit.

(people gasping)

Yo ladies, this looks like a job for a homie.

- Oh, Yankee Joe, sucky dicky.

- I said homie, not homo.

Give me that thing.

- Okay, now that a gentleman is eased our burden,

we can finally commence to practice.

- Excuse me ladies,

but we were in the middle of a conversation here.

(Jesus speaking in foreign language)

Jesus, remember me?

Bristol, horror movies, covered in blood.

Naked.

- (speaking in foreign language) Definitely more tongue.

- You getting this?

Yeah, perfect Granny.

Make sure you get

a tight shot. - Yeah, yeah, yeah.

I have it, Val. Thank you.

- [Val] Come on, all right well,

let's start shooting.

Come on. - All right.

- Am I good?

- [Jerry] Okay. No, no, no, no, no.

- My roots look good.

- [Jerry] You're beautiful. You're beautiful.

All right, I want you to really, okay,

and action.

- Our Native American friends.

- [Val] All right, cut. Cut.

Excuse me, Granny, but.

- [Jerry] Excuse me.

But I'm the director and I am the one who calls cut.

- I write the checks, okay?

All right. All right.

The shuck isn't working.

Let me think.

Granny, profile. Give me me a profile.

- Well, I got two profiles. - Other profile.

- This is my better side.

- Face this way.

All right, just go with it, go with it.

Action.

- Our Native American friends

taught us the many uses of maize.

You can boil it, you can pop it.

And ladies, trust me.

With a little pig butter,

this corn cob makes one hell of a nighttime buddy.

(all laughing)

(rock music)

* If you got a gun and a poisoned mind *

(lyrics muffled) (swimmers laughing)

* Everybody (indistinct) now and then *

(lyrics muffled)

* And all I say

* Is don't let it get in your head *

* 'Cause when she goes down

* She's a suicide love machine

* Like it or not she'll do what she please *

* She's a suicide love machine

* Livin' it up (indistinct)

- Looky loo Jesse, a fallen soldierette.

Sniff her out girl. Check her vitals.

- Yo, get that beast away from her.

- That beast is my lady friend, Senor.

And if ya habla ingles, you'd understand,

she's telling you to go call on Mr. Harper.

- Mr. Harper?

- Harper Alexander, honey.

He veterinarian, he fix chickens luck and such.

- Oh, he does people too.

I want some, so a pig knuckle on a Chinaman. (giggling)

(soft music)

- [Tina] Hey.

- Yo Opie, you mind?

- The name's Hucklebilly, dumbass.

And I don't mind it all.

- Oh.

- Like what you see, little man.

- My, my, my, the South is rising.

- Dang, must have gotten stung by a bee.

I'm all swelled up down there.

- Don't you have some cotton to pick?

- Yeah, you know, some shit to shovel?

- All my chores are done.

It's play time now.

Why are you stampeding me?

Get your paws off me you damn dirty Yanks.

- Time to teach you a lesson, Huckle fuck.

- That's Hucklebilly, ass clown.

You know the way things look down there,

you two might wanna get yourself stung.

- Party poopers. (laughing)

- Hello?

Hello?

Yo, anybody here?

- Looks like the little lady could use my help, Santiago.

- It's Jesus,

and no shit Sherlock, she had an accident.

She, she bumped her head.

- Hand me that iron.

The one on the table.

- You know if you like son,

I can also help you with that speech impediment.

- Yo Dracula, it's called an accent.

(Bristol moaning)

- The good doctor needs his quietude.

I suggest you join the others.

Go on boy. Go on.

- Just make sure you fix your up good.

I don't want nobody suing me.

- [Harper] No need to worry.

We'll bring her round when she's done.

- Whatever (foreign phrase).

Knock yourselves out.

- Oh, you can crack corn on that.

(Granny screaming)

- The secret to southern home cooking

is you never, ever tenderize without loving in your blade.

I love you.

Treat your meat as you would an old friend.

Hi, come on in. (grunting)

Or an enemy. (grunting)

Or your friend's enemy. (grunting)

(Granny grunting)

It's dinner time. Dinner time.

Come eat your goddamn dinner.

Come on, dinner time.

Whatcha doing now, Rufus?

- I made myself a Jesus chicken.

- Oh Christ.

- [Jerry] Cut.

(ghostly whispering)

- Pig snout.

- [Harper] Pig snout.

- What the fuck is going on here?

- Why, you got yourself a boo boo. (snorting)

One of our livestock gets a boo boo,

we take him out back and shoot 'em.

- [Bristol] Please let me go, please.

- You don't have to worry none, honey.

We ain't gonna shoot ya.

- That would be way too boring.

(Bristol screaming)

Ah, just what the doctor ordered.

- No, please, please.

I'll be a good girl, I'll do anything.

- This little piggy went market,

and this little piggy stayed home.

And this little piggy went wee wee wee,

la la la, all the way home.

(Bristol screaming)

(all shouting)

(Harper laughing)

(Bristol screaming)

(Harper yelling)

(Harper and nurse yelling)

- Guess who?

You know what Granny told you

about coming in here like this?

- Oh, the heck with her, Jemima.

My passion for you is stronger than kin.

It's hotter than cornbread.

It's sweeter than watermelon.

- Mm, remember the first time you crept into my stable?

Telling me how things were gonna be.

- Ooh. - Be your tar baby.

Do whatever you like,

no matter how dirty or nasty or forbidden it might be?

- (laughing) I am your lord and massa.

- Are you really?

Are you really in charge?

Are you really, really in charge?

- I think so.

- I'm gonna lick it clean, massa.

- Jemima.

Oh God.

Whoa.

(soft music)

- God damn it, Buckman.

You romancin' my griddle cakes, again?

- No Granny, no, no.

- No, no. - Duty calls.

- You were just thinking about your darker nature

is what you're thinking about.

Go on you, get.

Oh, you race traitor.

You chocolate dipping.

- Guess who?

- Oh,

fudge dripping, (Crow growling)

hunk of black ebony.

* Even know who you are

* Facebook superstar

(light music)

- This is a very expensive, very uninsured camera

that my Uncle Sal got me for Passover.

And if it's fucked, I'm suing somebody's ass.

Probably yours, I'm just saying.

- And I'm just saying

that old hag chopped those chickens

like she was Jeffrey freaking Dahmer.

So your fuck camera, I ain't feeling these people.

- At least these people

are not afraid of a little hard work.

Kiss my black ass, Val.

- Bend over honey and I will.

- Hey boss man, why don't you let me work the lens.

I got experience.

- Excuse me KJ, but last time you worked the lens,

it cost my daddy half a mil to buy back the video.

- Made you famous.

- No shit. Got my little bro through juvy.

- Ah, look who's here.

So Jesus, where's Bristol?

- Oh, she's with the doc, PMS or some shit.

It's cool, he's got a tent.

- So let me get this straight.

You left Bristol with some white trash doctor

and it's cool 'cause he's got a tent.

- Yeah, I thought you people were cool with doctors.

You let 'em suck the shit out your fat asses, don't you?

- That's it.

I can't work this way.

I mean, it's bad enough I don't get per diem.

Now I gotta take insults from Speedy Gonzales over here.

I'm finding Bristol, and I'm outta here.

- You walk, you're in breach.

Then it's your getting sued.

- Good point.

- Chill out, Schiller.

I'll go get your girl.

- Oh no you don't.

- Can it. - Sit down.

- KJ, you can go.

Next thing up is Rome and Tina solo.

- Ooh, hot.

- Wait. You think two girls is hot?

- Totally.

- All sushi and no hot dog?

- Sure.

- No blunt objects. Nothing you can poke an eye out with?

- I think two girls is hot.

What?

God.

* A sad southern belle

* A proud Confederate gent

* Now they lust in hell

* This love once heaven

(Granny crooning)

There are some desires that even death cannot whip,

wouldn't you agree, Bucky?

- Oh yeah, like revenge.

- I'm not talking about killing.

I'm talking about loving,

because it's always the thirst before the slaughter

that gets the temperature rising.

- Oh yeah.

Well thank God we got that lovely milk maiden. (laughing)

- Screw our lovely milk maiden.

And I'm sure you are, you son of a bitch.

- Hey Granny, what's cooking?

- Huck?

- Buck.

- Fuck.

- That's what I'm trying to do.

(Granny kissing and Buckman grunting)

- It's stroke left, then right.

And you might wanna blow in her ear.

That really gets Jesse's juices flowing.

- No way. Same with my baby.

- Yes ma'am. You know it.

Gets 'em wet. - Get outta here.

- Like a bog, or a bayou.

- Unacceptable. - Hey, how about next

you let Jezebel give biscuit a little pony ride?

- Yeah, I hear sawdust on sawdust is a real turn on.

- What kind of doggy biscuit is this?

- Put him down now.

- It's a him. How can you tell?

- Now.

- Falcon, do something.

- Hey, be gentle with that, okay?

- I can be gentle.

- God dang sodomites.

(light music)

(light music continues)

- [Huck] Do de do to do.

Do do to do. (humming)

(dark music)

Hmm.

(light music)

(light music continues)

- [Cherry] Now this right here is unholy.

- I'm too sober for this shit.

- You think Miss Boss Man will miss us?

- Oh, Miss Boss Man's too lost

inside those sugar walls to worry about us.

(electronic music)

(lyrics muffled)

- Mm mm.

(Huck sniffing)

(door opening)

- Wonder what type of J these freaks are smoking?

To stay in character like this all day?

- [Jesus] 10 to 1 it ain't as fine as mine.

(Cherry laughing)

Para ti.

Come on baby, let me flare it.

- Yo, where'd everybody go?

Where's the party at?

(faint music)

Soldier Blue?

Where the fuck's the Soldier Blue?

Pearl? I'll give you a pearl necklace.

(faint music)

Oh, here's where the party's at.

Hello? Ladies?

You girls wanna play hide and seek?

KJ love hide and seek.

- Soldier Blue?

Wanna slip into something more.

- Comfortable?

(soft music)

(soft music continues)

(soft music continues)

- Oh.

Oh.

(twins laughing)

(rock music)

(lyrics muffled)

(twins grunting)

- Why are we doing this again?

- Look, I told you it's representational.

The epic struggle between the north and the south.

Brother against brother, sister against sister.

Good against evil.

Just take her top off.

- I'm too fucking stoned to undo all this shit,

and take this off.

- Shut up.

I need to get outta this place. (laughing)

- Me too baby, me too.

- [Cherry] Let's go.

- Will you blow your nose, already?

You got some fucking moss in there, baby.

- No, I don't.

- Green nose goblins.

It's like I'm back in the sweat shop in Tegucigalpa.

(Cherry laughing)

She totally lesbian, she won't fucking admit it.

My name is Val and I am a lesbot.

(Cherry laughing)

Will you please reprogram me with your Mexican wiener?

Take off my bandana baby.

- Huh?

- Are you ready to put on our fucking Confederate clothing,

and join these assholes?

(Huck sniffing)

You hear something?

- I did. What was that?

(soft rock music)

(soft rock continues)

- Now we get down to business, Soldier Blue.

$5, I make you holler.

Whatever you like I do for you.

- How about 20 for plenty?

- Okay.

(all laughing)

(Granny knocking)

- So glad you could join us

for your complimentary old time photograph.

- You're gonna take pictures of this shit?

- We like to capture the true essence of our jamboree.

- Hey, I'm down. Just keep it off the net.

- Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah.

Don't you move boy.

We need you sitting still lest it come out blurry. Ooh.

(Cherry moaning)

- Fuck me like you're gonna get your green card baby.

- Immense you paint me baby, immense you paint me

- Faster, you Mexican jumping bean.

(Cherry exhaling)

- Dang Oprah, you grunt louder than a church yard chicken.

- [Granny] They all nice and tight, Miss Scarlet?

- [Scarlet] Nice and tight and hard and firm.

- Exactly how I like it.

- Oh, I'll bet you do, son, I'll bet you do. (chuckling)

Well Granny, looks like our honored guest

is ready for his closeup.

- On second thought dude,

I don't wanna have my picture taken anymore.

- Oh, want has nothing to do with it, Mr. KJ.

- That's right, boy.

I am sure that these fine southern gentlemen

did not want to have their portraits taken neither.

I'm sure that they did not want to be in this war.

And I am especially sure

that they did not want their families

and their houses burnt to the ground

by you northern heathens.

- Whoa, northern heathen?

Dude, I'm from Burbank.

- That's where the devil lives.

Bye-Bye.

Say cheese.

(KJ grimacing)

(KJ yelling)

- [Mayor] What fuck, the juice is loose.

Whoa. (KJ yelling)

Smoking.

Whoa.

A puker.

(belles laughing)

(KJ yelling)

(mayor laughing)

Dang it, Granny.

He didn't smile.

- Oh well. (mayor laughing)

(Jesus jiving)

- Yankee doodle went to town to bone himself A hottie.

- Amen, brother.

- Stuck his feather in her cooch,

like fresh baked manicotti.

- Hell yeah. Fresh baked.

- What's your name? - It's Hucklebilly, dumbass.

- What's your name? - It's Hucklebilly, dumbass.

What's my name? - Hucklebilly, dumbass.

- Typical.

I'm out there sweating my off,

and the two of you sitting here,

getting this mentally ill child stoned.

Shut the fuck up, retard.

- It's Hucklebilly, Mister.

- I promise I'll just film it, no way.

So anyone know whether jackass ever found Bristol?

- Hate to break it to you Moises,

but knowing that horn dog,

KJ's is probably off plowing Bristol

in some cornfield by now.

- Excuse me, that's Rome's boyfriend you're talking about.

- Yeah man, don't be a hater.

- Suck my salty Salvadorian sack biatch.

But then again, you'd probably like that, wouldn't you,

you limp-wristed reality show wannabe.

- Enough.

Look Jesus, unless you wanna crash the unemployment line

like the rest of your familia,

I suggest you get this tin can moving.

As soon as we get what we want from these rednecks,

we'll get the hell out of this fucking two-bit shithole.

Come on.

- All right, I hear you boss.

I think I can scam one of them tires

off that old school bus

those freaks got in the fairground.

- Whatever it takes.

- I wouldn't advise that my friends.

Some folks around here just might be inclined

to define that as stealin'.

- Stealing is a sin.

- I wasn't gonna steal nothing, abuelita, I said borrow.

(tense music)

(tense music continues)

- Well, I guess borrowing's okay.

That ain't stealing. (laughing)

Maybe we can help you out with a tire.

But first.

(Crow drumming)

(bluegrass music)

I tell you Granny,

that display of majesty makes this colonel

weak in the knees and full in the groin.

(mayor groaning)

- Bucky, I ain't begging no more.

It's time you discharge your musket, Confederate style.

- Madam, lead me to my execution.

- You better be getting all this.

This is money in the bank.

- Solid gold.

- Oh, Buck, man.

Buck, man.

(bluegrass music)

- Buck, man,

Buck, man,

Buck, man.

- Candy apples.

Candy apples.

- Buck Buck Buck.

- Candy apple?

(mayor and Granny hollering)

- How do you like these candy apples?

- Them ain't real, them's plastic.

Probably got worms in 'em, too.

- My mighty sword!

My mighty sword! (Granny screaming)

- Crow, crow, crow,

crow, crow.

(Crow muffled)

- [Mayor] Crow?

- Buck?

- Too much dark meat, bitch. (yelling)

(bluegrass music)

- Now, for our next demonstration,

we're gonna need another volunteer.

Ugh, you boy, with the smiling eyes, you'll do fine.

(bluegrass music)

- Yes. - Mighty fine.

Come on up now, boy.

I ain't got eternity. Come on.

Don't mind the darkness, none.

You ain't never heard Helen Keller complain.

Turn around now boy.

Step on right on up here.

Come on now, show everybody your pretty face.

Now you see him,

now you don't.

- So, should I keep the blindfold on or?

(somber music)

Hello?

Hello?

This is so weird.

Okay.

Hello? Hello?

Is anybody here?

(somber music continues)

(Falcon whistling)

(somber music continues)

(Falcon laughing)

- Well, how do you hold that boy?

- Hey dude, that fucking hurts.

- What kind of man are you?

Can't handle a little arm wrestle.

- Shit, Rufus.

I knew you were different.

- I knew you were different.

- You see right through me, don't you?

- Right through your heart.

- My heart?

Yeah, you know,

all my life I've kept my heart in the closet.

Lately though, my ass keeps poking out.

(Falcon panting)

- Whoa, horses. I ain't queer like that.

But that don't mean you gotta stop.

- I don't know.

Maybe you're right.

This thing gets a hold of me, wrong time, wrong place.

I'm dead.

- Ain't that the truth?

(soft music)

(Falcon grimacing)

(both grunting)

I'll give you broke back.

(Rufus noshing)

(uptempo drumming)

(upbeat music)

* Revenge is sweet when you're munching on the meat *

* Of a Yankee whose doodle is so dandy *

* We don't like to boast, but we make a tasty roast *

* The grillin' we're really pretty handy *

* Because we're cannibals, cannibals *

* Yes, it's true

* And there's just no way the Union will survive *

* We're cannibals, cannibals

* Yes, it's true

* And you know we're gonna eat you dead or alive *

Hit it.

(upbeat dance music)

(dance music continues)

(blood splashing)

(bluegrass music)

- I clean up pretty good, don't I?

Without further ado,

I would like to introduce one mean-ass

motherfucking butt-kicking son of a bitch.

Here's Bucky! (screaming)

(bluegrass music)

(Buck laughing)

Bucky!

- Good evening one and all.

Hope you are enjoying the show so far.

Can I get a yee haw?

- Yee haw!

- I want to tell you tonight,

we've got a show for you you ain't never gonna forget,

or my name ain't George W Buckman.

I know you have been worried about

where your compatriots went.

Well, we were too,

until we found 'em in the medical tent, playing doctor.

Ain't that right boys?

But seriously, folks,

they're all backstage along with your young Mr. Falcon,

undergoing an extreme makeover for tonight's grand finale.

But first, it gives me great pleasure

to introduce Pleasant Valley's very own Rhett Butler,

Mr. Harper Alexander.

(bluegrass music)

- Ladies and gentlemen,

please enjoy with me as we recreate

only one of our more favorite moments

in the anals of history,

but also one of the great spectator sports as well.

Any volunteers?

You sir. Wanna win $50,000?

- Did you say $50,000?

- Sure did.

50,000 Confederate.

- Well in that case.

- Here, take this.

- How you doing tonight, Abraham?

- It's Jerry.

- You sure look like an Abraham to me?

Why don't you just take your seat?

(bluegrass music)

Now now, folks, the role of Miss Mary Lincoln

will be played by Miss Mary Milk Maiden.

And good old Honest Abe,

Why that'll be you, DW Griffith.

Derringer please.

- You know you're nine inches away

from starring in my next movie.

- Feels more like three to me.

- Now, the game is,

if I miss, you lose.

I'm not too sure about this.

- Ready?

- Well hold on.

Time out. Time out.

- Aim.

- Hold on.

Hold on. Time out, time out.

Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

Time out. Cut.

Time out.

(gun firing)

- Yeah.

(belles laughing)

Yeah.

- [Scarlet] Yay.

- [Jerry] Thank you. Thank you.

(Harper muffled)

(rock music)

(Jerry exploding)

- Aside from that, Mrs. Lincoln, did you enjoy the show?

- Fuck this shit.

* Gimme somebody to fuck

(solemn music)

Now, now, now, you're all a little groggy. (chuckling)

Ah, the fresh air ought to take care of that.

From here on in we're going to play a little game,

a little game we call the revisitation of the trope.

(captives moaning)

April 22nd, 1864.

We were living our lives, minding our own business,

when Yankee men came, when you came.

Killed us all, destroyed our way of life.

Well, we weren't ready back then.

This time we are.

- The war's over, hefe, you fucking lost.

Move the fuck on.

- (laughing) Well, that's precisely

what we aim to do, muchacho.

Precisely.

- You telling me you with these crackers?

- I was with these crackers when your kind

came condemning us all to the same fate.

- My kind? What the fuck's wrong with you brother?

- I'm not your brother.

I'm southern bred.

And you, Miss Gutter Mouth,

you be Northern scum.

- Now, now, now, Crow.

Remember, we try not to use the N word.

(southerners laughing)

- That's why you the man.

- Now, let's see here.

From here to the road is about a couple of miles.

Same distance we had to flee Pleasant Valley.

Now there's no sport in shooting fish in a barrel.

So we hid some guns and ammo along the way.

Now if y'all can go out there and find 'em

and put up a good fight, why, you're free to go.

- Oh, that is bloody bollocks.

If you don't let us go now,

I'll have my lawyers lock you up faster

than you can say Phil Spectrum.

I mean it, motherfucker. (spitting)

- [Harper] The old spectrum.

- [Val] I'm not kidding.

- Neither are we, Miss.

And in case you have any doubt, Miss Maiden?

(southerner hooting)

(Scarlet laughing)

- [Val] God.

- KJ?

(dark music)

(all murmuring)

- Oh fuck me, you bastards.

- Presentation.

Let the games begin.

(southerners mocking drums)

(southerners mocking drums)

(southerners mocking drums)

(southerners mocking drums)

(no audio)

(mournful music)

(lyrics muffled)

- Did you see what they did to KJ, Biscuit?

They killed him.

- They fucking killed Falcon, too.

And we were gonna present at the Team Dream Awards together.

- You were?

* Well they put us in our (indistinct) *

- Crying over spilled blood's not gonna get us outta here.

We gotta find those guns and cap those motherfuckers.

- Okay, you're right.

You and Cherry head for the RV.

Fix that damn tire.

I'll grab the girls and find those weapons.

- What are you gonna do if you find them?

- I know my way around weapons.

My mother used to be a prison guard.

- That explains a lot.

(mournful music)

(owl hooting)

- Leave that hebe good and dry, son.

We could all use a little after dinner tonic.

- When do we get eat supper, daddy?

- Ain't you done chewing on that surfer?

- What about me, daddy?

All I had today was a lick of gristle

from Jesse's hind quarters.

- Aw enough, stifle.

Go on, git.

(Rose laughing)

What are you laughing at, China Rose?

Why don't you do some of that Chinese laundry

we imported you here for?

And this time get out the blood stains.

I don't want no ring around the collar.

- Your wish is my command, Mayor Luckman,

but remember, no tiki, no shitty.

- Go on, git.

Why, I say there, Granny,

look like you're favoring that dark meat a little too much.

- Maybe if you were a little more black in your stallion

I wouldn't need to visit the stable on long lonely nights.

(Mayor groaning)

- How many northerners to seek vengeance on

until we can finally rest?

- Well, let's see.

Last jamboree, I think we took care,

took care of eight of 'em.

- And there's nine here with us now.

Still only makes us halfway to 2001.

- Frog dang it.

Does that mean we have to go through

this shit again next year?

- Ah, don't complain.

- Oh hell (indistinct).

My bunions are killing me. Ugh.

If I was one of those psychos,

where would I hide those weapons?

- Kind of like an Easter egg hunt, huh?

- Huh?

Jesus.

- [Jesus] How old is this piece of shit?

It's fucking rusted together.

- Oh, one day we're gonna smoke a bowl

and laugh about all this.

- Are you fucking crazy, Negra?

Those rednecks think this is the Civil War or something.

I always knew the south was loco, but damn.

Shit. - Are you okay?

- You know what? Fuck finding a tire.

I say we ditch those bitches and save ourselves.

- Let's go.

- The kosher way to do this is what?

- You gotta cut the throat and let the blood drain.

- But this Jew boy ain't got no throat no more.

- Well then, cut his balls off, I guess.

- Yeah, I guess.

(dramatic music)

Speaking of balls,

I've been meaning to mention something to you.

I just don't get you. - What don't you get?

- You know, your taste.

- Explain me this, brother.

You'd rather spend your time

on some soft girly girl like Jezebel,

gossiping, shopping, and setting up house.

I, on the other hand, like to hang with real men,

practicing the arts of hunting, soldiering, and wrestling.

My taste?

You tell me brother,

who's really on the side of the Lord Here.

- You gotta be fucking with me. This easy?

I guess not, no ammo.

- You're kidding.

- Fuck this Cracker Barrel, let's roll.

- Since our lives are seriously at stake,

there's something I have to ask you.

- Go ahead, babe.

- If they find us dead here,

our bodies naked on display for the whole world to see.

- You mean like in your video?

- I'm being serious, Tina.

- [Tina] Fine. Spill it.

- Oh god.

- All right, I'll just come out and say it.

Do my thighs look bad?

- Oh my God. Rome, a gun.

- [Rome] Think it's real?

- [Val] Oh, titties!

(gun firing)

- It's real.

- Fuck, we're going around in circles.

- I don't get it, Jay.

- That's it, let's split up.

- I don't wanna split up. Mm-mm.

- Look. - No.

- If even one of us gets away, we're both saved, right?

You know I'll come back with help.

- I guess you're right.

- Of course I'm right, baby.

Now you go that way, I'm gonna go this way.

One of us is gonna find the road.

- Okay, but be safe.

- [Jesus] You know I will.

- [Cherry] What about a gun?

Don't I need one too?

- Well, at least we found a gun.

- Oh, I'm supposed to thank you for that?

- It was an accident, Val.

God, do you always have to rag on us?

We have feelings too, you know?

- Yeah, it's not like we didn't feel bad

when that avalanche hit New Orleans.

- [Tina] Yeah.

- Okey dokey, now.

One.

- Oh, I know you girls (indistinct).

- [Rome] Two.

- But why can't you send me there?

- [Tina And Rome] Three.

(gun firing)

- [Tina] Oops.

(Val screaming)

- Oh my God you

stupid little

fake titty, no talent,

trust fund, sluts.

Just fuck off.

- But you stepped on Biscuit.

- Can I make myself any clearer?

Just go.

- Just wait till the networks about this.

- Yeah, we would have never fucked you anyway.

- Yeah!

(Val crying)

(tense music)

(people hooting)

(Cherry breathing hard)

(Cherry breathing hard)

(mysterious music)

(upbeat country music)

- What the fuck?

- Looking for the underground railroad? Hmm.

- Hey Granny,

do you think the mayor would mind

if we kept that beaner boy to ourselves?

- I don't know, sweetie.

I'd rather kill him than him than fuck him any day.

Sh sh sh.

Did you hear something?

- No.

* Rock a bye baby

* In the treetop

* When the wind blows

* The cradle all will rock

* When the bough breaks

* The cradle will fall

* And down will come baby

* Cradle and all

- I always knew those little cunts

would be the end of me.

Oh my God.

- [Tina] Biscuit's really dead meat, huh?

- Yes sweetie, she really is.

- And we are dead meat too, aren't we?

- No Romey. We're gonna be okay.

Trust me.

- That's what you said the time

we got crabs tag-teaming KJ.

- Oh, woops a daisy.

Ah.

- [Maiden] I thought the men said

killing Mexicans didn't count towards the total.

- Well they don't deary.

They ain't north, they ain't south.

They just ain't.

But there's nothing wrong

with little sport killing,

so long as it puts food on the table.

Must have been a squirrel.

Come on along now.

(Jesus sighing)

- Peekaboo.

(Jesus screaming)

(Jesus grunting)

- Can't you northern folks do nothing right?

- Tonight at dinner, yet again,

I caught Granny picking a little too tenderly

on the dark part of her brisket.

Got anything to say about that, boy?

- I ain't nobody's boy.

Not even yours.

- Maybe so, Crow.

Would it be too hard just to stick to your chores?

- I do stick to my chores, much I find 'em distasteful.

And which one of you

are too tired from plowing the fields or splitting the wood

can deny that?

And tell me,

is there one amongst you, one amongst you,

willing to hit it when there's blood on the conch?

Well I know how to plow,

and I know how to split.

You sure have some very satisfied bitches

in your Pleasant Valley.

Thank you very much.

- Man's got a point.

Yeah!

(Mayor laughing)

- Shoot daddy, I think I made the rope too long.

- You stupid ass white motherfuckers.

You just wait till Al Sharpton gets wind of this shit.

I'll own everything in this albino circus,

including that fake-ass dumbass stuffed motherfucking sheep.

- Yeah? When pigs fly.

- And the fat lady sings.

- And there's a black man in the White House.

(southerner laughing)

- Where the fuck you motherfuckers been at?

- Down south. (gun firing)

(ragtime piano music)

Fools 'em every time. (laughing)

- Yeah!

(southerners laughing)

(soft music)

(Val crying)

- Relax,

everything's gonna be just fine.

There's nobody here but us ladies.

- Please help me.

Please help me, please.

You gotta help me, please.

- Folks like my kind,

they can't fathom the modern woman.

They wanna keep us all caged up.

Cage our bodies,

our passions.

(both moaning)

(Val moaning)

That's right mama.

I hear there's a cherry in the center.

(pitchfork striking)

(Val crying)

(Scarlet laughing)

(Val gasping)

Cider red always makes my pink wet. (laughing)

(twins breathing hard)

- Oh my God, Tina.

We're back to where we started.

(Crow drumming)

- Please, just go away.

(fiddler drumming)

(Crow growling)

(fiddler yelling)

(ominous orchestral music)

(bugle blowing) (twins screaming)

(rock music)

- Spread the red.

(rock music)

(lyrics muffled)

- Get the bus. That's our ticket outta here.

You try to start it. I'll stand guard.

(twins screaming)

- It's Jesus, bitch.

(Jesus screaming)

- [Tina] Why isn't it working?

- [Jesus] Fucking fan belt.

Can't see shit under here.

Try the key.

- [Tina] Like this?

- Anything?

- [Jesus] Nope. Nada.

- Am I doing this right?

Can't you hot-wire this thing?

- Yo bitch, I went to film school, not prison.

(ominous music)

- [Rome] Uh oh.

- [Tina] Oh shit.

(ominous music)

Think they're mad at us?

(dark music)

- We offered them entertainment,

sport, a chance to redeem some sense of honor

for the atrocities committed by their ancestors,

and they play along by running away.

- Oh, you wanna play?

Fuck, I'll play.

- Gentleman to gentleman?

- Yeah, if that's what you call yourself.

- Oh,

bring it on.

Charge!

(bugle blowing)

- [Rome] Quick, Tina. Go start it.

Go.

- [Tina] I can't get it started.

(southerners murmuring)

Tina, come on.

(twins yelling)

- Oh start.

Come on. (crying)

- Do your best, Colonel Cracker.

- Yeah. (chuckling)

Come on.

(Jesus grunting)

(Rome screaming)

(muffled shouting)

(Rome screaming)

- [Mayor] You're going down, Yankee.

- It's this skull.

(Huck screaming)

I was gonna let you go,

seeing as how you're kind don't count toward the total.

Brown or wet, you're a Yank to me.

(Jesus grunting)

(Mayor screaming)

- Go!

- We should go. Go, start.

- Brown or white, bitch, you're a one-eyed freak show.

(Mayor screaming)

Ooh, now we're playing.

(Mayor screaming)

- You

Yankee scum. (screaming)

- Go, Tina, go.

- Wait, Romey, it's Jesus.

He'll save us.

Can you fix it?

- [Jesus] Go ahead, try it now.

- Come on, come on. Start, start.

Why won't you start?

- [Jesus] It's turning.

- [Tina] Come on, Jesus, get on the bus.

- Shift it to drive, puta.

What the fuck are you waiting for?

- Hey, two eyes, suck my Dixie.

(Jesus screaming)

(Tina screaming)

Woo wee.

- And I fall.

Which way to.

Man shall rest his (indistinct).

- Don't turn it off, you stupid bitch.

- But it just killed Jesus.

- Let's finish this.

(Rome screaming)

(Harper growling)

(Tina screaming)

- Fuck.

(Rome screaming)

(Rome screaming)

(Harper growling)

Fuck you.

(southerners growling)

(ominous music)

(Rome screaming)

(bus running)

I'm going

- Get us out.

- Rome, I'm going, I'm going.

- Get us out of here.

(southerners yelling)

Go.

- [Tina] It's over, Romey.

It's over.

(fading shouts)

(bus running)

(brakes squeaking)

(door opening)

- I can't believe I ever decided

to do this crap show with you.

Could have been in Cabo.

- Really?

(twins yelling over each other)

- Your voice is so fucking loud.

I've hated you for so long.

- You bitch, you know what?

I killed your fucking beloved Biscuit.

- Really? Really?

Well I'm the one who snorted your eight-ball.

- You're a fucking bitch.

- Cunt.

(horn honking)

(tires squealing)

- Damn Yankees.

(light music)

(southerners applauding)

- Now what, Bucky?

- Hmm.

- Ah.

- Oh.

- Rufus, is this contraption working?

- [Rufus] That's 12-4, Daddy.

- Howdy, folks.

George W Buckman here invitin' you to come on down

to the Pleasant Valley Traveling Jamboree.

Why, we got it all folks.

Got singin',

got dancin',

we got games.

- [Speaker] I'm not too sure about this.

- Most of all,

we got some real nice mouth watering barbecue.

- Frog dang it.

Does that mean we have to go

through this shit again next year?

- [Mayor] Don't forget to bring the kids,

especially the chubby ones.

Portly always gets in for free. (chuckling)

Just look for the detour sign off the main road.

We'll be waiting, so come on down

and get a taste of the old South,

and let the old south get a taste of you. (laughing)

(rock music)

(rock music continues)

* The south will rise

* The south will rise

* The south is gonna rise again *

* The south will rise

* The south will rise

* The south is gonna rise again *

* The south will rise

* The south will rise

* The south is gonna rise again *

* The south will rise

* The south will rise

* The south is gonna rise again *

- [Mayor] Come on Granny, keep pushing.

- Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow.

- [Mayor] Keep pushing.

- I am pushing you morons.

- Breathe.

- I think I see something coming.

(Mayor sighing)

Come on, Granny. Keep pushing.

I see it's head coming.

(Granny squealing)

- [Harper] It's a.

- What is it?

(baby crying)

- A Negro?

(baby crying)

(classical orchestral music)

(classical orchestral music)

(bluegrass music)

* Lord, let me help you decide

* Who on Earth should live and who should die *

* I know that it's a lot of work to run the universe *

* So let me help you choose the ones *

* To cherish and to curse

* Lord, let me help you decide

* Who on Earth should live and who should die *

* The banker at the country club who stole all of my cash *

* If you snipped his brake line *

* It could cause a fatal crash

* Lord, let me help you decide

* Who on Earth should live and who should die *

* The woman with the plastic boots is such a social pest *

* I could pull your boots right on *

* And stomp right on her chest

* Let me help you, I can help you *

* Won't you let me, I'm so pissed *

* Let me help you, I can help you *

* Won't you let me, I've got lists *

* Bringing them kids across the hall disturb me every night *

* Well I could give them candy canes made out of dynamite *

* Lord, let me help you decide

* Who on Earth should live and who should die *

* Lord let me help you decide

* Who on Earth should live and who should die *

* I know that it's a lot of work to run the universe *

* So let me help you choose the ones to cherish and to curse *

* Lord, let me help you decide

* Let me help you, let you

* The south will rise

* The south is gonna rise again *

* The south will rise

* The south will rise

* The south is gonna rise again *

* It's gonna rise

* Rise again

* I said rise

* In the field of screams

(heavy metal music)

* The south will rise

* The south will rise

* The south is gonna rise again *

* In the field of screams

* The south will rise

* The south will rise

* The south is gonna rise again *

* In the field of screams

* The south will rise

* The south will rise

* The south is gonna rise again *

* In the field of screams

* The south will rise

* The south will rise

* The south is gonna rise again *

* In the field of screams

(person screaming)

- [Mayor] Hey, two eyes, suck my Dixie.

(no audio)