My son is a failure.

[The episode starts at Callum’s class]

Mr. Renaud: Alright, kiddies, that concludes our baby-making lesson! Study it for tomorrow, because there’s a test!

Callum: Finally.

Travis: Damn fool, it’s a written test!

Callum: Aw, man. Hey, what’s that noise?

Travis: MATCHY!

Smooth voiceover: *That damn classturbator at it again. Tut, tut, tut.*

[Cuts to the Augers’ house]

Zoltan: (raspy, slurring voice) You have a test for tomorrow? Ha! Tough luck, boy. I am too busy writing SpongeBob fanfiction to help you.

Callum: But please!

Zoltan: Nope.

Callum: But-

Zoltan: CALLUM CAN’T YOU SEE I’M WRITING FANON SPONGEBOB EPISODES???!!!

Callum: Fine. I will get help from Vanessa.

Zoltan: Okay, I don’t really care.

Callum: [walks over to Vanessa] Hey, can you give me tips on studying for a test tomorrow?

Vanessa: Well, as a cactus, I never went to school. However, when I have to concentrate, I try to think I’m dying in the infamous cacti-human war of 2006 B.C.. So many dead cactuses…..

Callum: Erm, okay. I’m gonna go ask Crazy what he thinks. [he goes to his garden, where Crazy is]

Crazy: Meow, meow, meow.

Callum: Hey Crazy! Do you want to help me study?

Crazy: Meow, I’m a dog. And also 12 years old.

[a laugh track plays in the background]

Callum: Well yeah, but we sent you to school, right?

Crazy: No.

Callum: I won’t feed you if you don’t at least try to help me.

[Crazy scratches Callum’s face]

Callum: DAD!!!

Zoltan (from the house): What?!

Callum: Crazy isn’t helping me, and he hurt me!

Zoltan (from the house): He’s a cat, you moron.

Crazy: For your information, Sir Auger, I am actually of the CrazySponge genus.

Callum: Didn’t you say you were a dog?

Crazy: o

Callum: Wow, he really is the craziest sponge.

[dead silence]

Callum: Why the hell aren’t you la--

[Cut to Golf and Cici’s house, doorbell rings and Golf opens it]

Callum: Mr. Pecks, can you help me with my studies?

Golf: No.

Callum: I thought you graduated Harvard.

Golf: Yes.

Callum: Oh, okay, well, can I at least come in?

Golf: Out you go.

Callum: I’m not in yet--

[Door shuts on Callum]

Golf: Callum Auger has been aborted.

Cici: Whoa, what’s ruffled your flippers today, Golf?

Golf: The enemy of the people has moved downtown.

Cici: Oh yeah, that new record store.

[Cut to an establishing shot of the new store, the sign on it reads ‘SBFW’]

Smooth voiceover: S-B-F-W. *Super Bangin’ Funky Waltz.*

[Cuts back to Golf and Cici’s house]

Golf: Urgh! It gives me the shivers just thinking about it.

[Cut to Golf and Cici’s garden, which Callum has hopped the fence into. Prim is there eating lasagna]

Callum: Hey!

Prim: Meow, what the heck do you want?

Callum: Can you help me study?

Prim: No.

Callum: Please!

Prim: No.

Callum: Please!

Prim: No.

Callum: Please!

Prim: NO! I am eating lasagna!

Callum: Just tell me tips on how to study while eating!

Prim: Fine! You see, when I have to study, I just eat lasagna, and it helps me study!

Callum: You always eat lasagna, you fat cat! And I have never seen you study.

Prim: Go away, I’m eating lasagna!

Callum: You always eat las-- [gets cut off by Prim]

Prim: You said that already.

Callum: Fine, I’ll leave.

Prim: Wait! Maybe I could give you some lasagna to help you study - IF you give me $100.

Callum: Okay, first of all, does lasagna REALLY help you study?

Prim: Albert Einstein ate lasagna.

Callum: Really?

Prim: Golf told me. It must be true.

Callum: Okay, but why do you need $100?

[Prim gestures towards his lasagna]

Callum: [sighs] Fine. I will steal $100 from my dad!

Smooth voiceover: *Man, where did that boy go wrong?*

[Cut to Golf’s house. Cici is reading *SAD Magazine* with no emotion on his face]

Cici: [flips page] Hmph.

[Pained screaming heard from upstairs. Cici lets out a deep sigh and goes upstairs to see Golf]

Cici: What’s wrong, Golf?

Golf: It’s those darned trolls!

Cici: What trolls?

Golf: The entertainment industry.

Cici: [thinks for a couple seconds] Yup, that checks out. What did they do this time?

[Cut to Golf’s “bedroom” where he is sitting on a single IKEA chair in the middle of the room]

Golf: I keep on hearing people play Satanic rituals outside. I want to burn their small radios.

Cici: That’s just Drake.

Golf: Yes. Satan.

Cici: [sighs] Well, okay, just close your windows.

Golf: I cannot do that.

Cici: And why can you not do that?

Golf: Then I would overheat, and potentially blow up like Benson.

Cici: We have air conditioning.

Golf: I can’t be getting up to turn on the A/C. That takes time out of my day! UNPRODUCTIVE!

Cici: Golf, you sit in a deckchair and trade stocks all day. You don’t even come downstairs for food sometimes.

Golf: That kitchen is the enemy of the people.

Cici: Why is the--

Golf: There are no vegetables.

Cici: I didn’t buy any vegetables yesterday but I bought some strawberries, you might like them.

[Golf rushes downstairs. Cut to Callum sneaking into the Auger household]

Zoltan: What are you doing, son?

Callum: Uhh… I’m searching for my… [looks around the house and sees a pen] pen… [looks up to the ceiling] ...icillin.

Zoltan: Your penicillin?

Callum: Yes, my penicillin.

Zoltan: O-kay… [Zoltan walks away and mutters to himself while Callum runs into his bedroom] Man, these kids have got some crazy words for crack these days.

Callum: Here it is! All of my father’s money! Let’s see, 10, 20, 30, uh, I’ll just take all and Prim will count it.

[Callum grabs the money, opens the window, and jumps from it to Golf and Aaron’s garden]

Prim: Why?

Callum: To show off, duh. Anyways, I have all of my dad’s money, count it. [throws it at Prim]

Prim: I wasn’t made for counting! I was made for eating lasagna! Let’s see here…just $101? Wow, your dad is broke.

Callum: He spent a lot of money on his computer that can run SpongeBob fanfiction at 60 frames per second.

Prim: I don’t really care. Here’s your change. [hands him back a dollar]

Callum: Thank you. Wait a second… that means my dad only has $1 now!

Prim: Yes. Here are your many lasagnas. [gives Callum one crumb of lasagna]

Callum: What? One crumb? Get here, you dirty cat! [chases him to the other side of the garden]

Prim: WOAH! Calm down! My stomach couldn’t wait one more second to eat lasagna!

Callum: [stops] Wait! Maybe Cici can help.

Prim: Yeah, he’s kind of busy.

[Cut to Cici sitting still on the sofa listening to Merzbow for a few seconds and cut back to the garden]

Callum: DANG IT! I guess I’ll just have to try to study on my own. But I’ll probably get an F. Wait, I feel like there’s someone near me who can still help me...

CartoonGuy: [appears out of nowhere] ME! ME! I want to be in the episode!

Callum: Nah. [goes back into his house]

Italian Narrator who has a voice strangely similar to CartoonGuy’s: The next day...

[Callum is with Mr. Renaud and his classmates in his class]

Callum: Now what? What should I do now?

Travis: Didn’t you study? Ha! I am an expert on this subject, of course.

[A laugh track plays in the background]

Callum: Well, I’m screwed.

Mr. Renaud: Okay, kiddies, we can finally start!

Callum: [sighs] Okay...

Italian Narrator who has a voice strangely similar to CartoonGuy’s: Meanwhile...

[Cut to Golf in the kitchen cramming strawberries down his throat at record pace and swiftly writing on a scroll]

Cici: Man, I haven’t seen you do anything that quick since they made the time for Sunday mass an hour earlier. What are you writing?

Golf: I am not just “writing”. I am filing a complaint.

Cici: Towards?

Golf: The entertainment industry.

Cici: [thinks for another couple seconds] Yup, that makes sense.

Golf: I am specifically requesting higher tax rates for the CEOs of that wretched business.

Cici: Wow, that’s unlike you. In fact, that’s oddly left-wing of you, Golf.

Golf: I am a true centrist. Whenever I’m in the back garden, I always sit on the fence.

Cici: Okay, then why do you want higher tax rates for big businesses?

Golf: All music executives should be bankrupt. All musicians for that matter.

Cici: I was with you until “all musicians.”

Golf: Shut it, troll. You know I’m right about this. You and the rest of Mr. Pineapple’s cronies just refuse to change your Stalinist ways.

Cici: What about liking music makes me a Stalinist?

[A far-left group is protesting in the neighborhood blasting the anthem of the USSR]

Golf: All (((musicians))) want is control! They want to get their filthy Je- I mean musical hands all over my brain! I won’t let them do it!

Cici: Hey, what was that part about filthy Je--

[Cut to Cici sitting outside Golf’s house with only his coat]

Smooth voiceover: *Man, that Golfpecks is one sly penguin.*

Golf: FALSE! I am a banana.

Smooth voiceover: *How does he know I’m narrating? Oh, right… he hears voices.*

[Cut to Callum with Mr. Renaud and his classmates in the classroom]

Mr. Renaud: Okay, kiddies, here are the grades.

[Cut to Callum sweating profusely]

Mr. Renaud: First off, Matchy. You didn’t answer a single question, and focused on whacking your wallaby the whole time. You get a Z-... but can I get your underwear?

Matchy: No.

Mr. Renaud: You are expelled.

[Matchy suddenly vanishes, leaving only white stains on his desk]

Mr. Renaud: Next, Travis. You also get a Z-. You wrote a horrendous story about religion, which I and my good friend Golf Pecks hold very dear to our hearts.

Travis: Blasted buffoon! I bet you write worse stuff about us.

Mr. Renaud: Uh…you are also expelled.

[Travis similarly vanishes]

Mr. Renaud: And finally, Callum…...you were the best!

Callum: YES!

Mr. Renaud: You got an F.

Callum: NO! [starts crying]

Mr. Renaud: Callum, stop crying…it’s not very attractive.

Callum: [sobbing] Please, Mr. Renaud! Let me rewrite it!

Mr. Renaud: No! If you studied instead of playing around with your dog who is also your cat who is also CrazySponge, you could have gotten an A.

Callum: But… [continues crying]

Mr. Renaud: Enough crocodile tears! Go to the Principal’s office!

[Callum gets up, gets out of the classroom, and grins for a second, before starting to cry again and going into the principal’s office]

Spongefan: [yelling viciously, like a drill sergeant] CALLUM AUGER! What the (obnoxious bleep sound) are you crying about?

Callum: It’s just… .I studied so hard for this test and I got an F… Mr. Renaud sent me here for crying, and I--I--I’m sorry but...

Spongefan: [sarcastically and angrily] Oh, I get you, Callum! It’s not (bleep)ing fair! You poor thing! YOU… [more quietly] you remind me of me… [cheesy generic piano music starts playing] and you get an A+! [starts crying uncontrollably] You can go home.

[Callum stops crying and grins, then leaves the Principal’s office and starts laughing. He leaves the school and we cut to outside the record store where a group of far-left protesters are campaigning against the store opening]

Protesters: [chanting] SBFW is unfair! Kirkburn is in there!

[Golf narrowly makes his way through the protesters to go the store before he gets stopped by a leader]

Protester: [stereotypical 60’s ‘hippie’ voice] Why are you goin’ in here, old man? To buy your vinyl records from the corporate bigwigs causing deep inequality in the divided American society?

Golf: I am not an old man. I am 26. Anyways, my intention is to go in there to send a strongly-worded message to the company owners.

Protester: Hey, did you guys hear that?! He’s about to tell Kirkburn who’s boss!

[Protesters cheer for Golf]

Protester: Hey, what’s your name, dude?

Golf: Golf Pecks.

Protesters: [chanting] GOLF PECKS! GOLF PECKS!

[Golf enters the store and shivers before talking to the girl at the counter]

Shopkeeper: How can I help you?

Golf: I would like to speak to the manager.

Shopkeeper: I’m afraid he’s not here right now. All of the higher-ups are in exile because of the protests.

[The room shakes, shocking Golf]

Golf: What on earth was that?

[Cut to outside where one protester is driving a bulldozer into the store. They are still chanting “GOLF PECKS!”. Golf’s eyes dart, and eventually look onto the Christian Music section, which he guards with his life.]

Protest Leader: Come on, Golf! Don’t wuss out now!

Golf: I need to enter a state of self-reflection. I think I’ve gone insane.

[As Golf finishes his sentence the bulldozer crashes into the store, demolishing it and unleashing metric tonnes of rubble across the road. Golf sticks his head out from the rubble]

Golf: Wait, NOW I CAN’T FILE MY COMPLAINT! At least I got some free Pat Boone out of it.

Smooth voiceover: *Mm, Pat Boone. That Jesus freak has got a good-ass taste in music. Debbie could light up my life for sure… if you know what I mean.*

[Cut to Callum walking home, ignoring the rubble when suddenly his dad can be heard from far away]

Zoltan (offscreen): CALLUM! MY MONEY!

Callum: WAIT, I CAN EXPLAIN! I--

Zoltan: [runs towards him] I’M GONNA KILL YOU!

Callum: [starts running away] AAARGH!

[Cuts to the Augers’ househould’s garden and zooms in to Crazy]

Crazy: Ah yes, my family.

Callum (offscreen): AAAAAH! [yelling and explosions can be heard] HELP!