Superjail! (2007) s03e08 Episode Script
Oedipusmess
Oh, life on the outside ain't what it used to be You know, the world's gone crazy, and it ain't safe on the street Well, it's a drag, and I know There's only one place to go I'm coming home Whoa, yeah I'm coming home What the hell?! Nova?! Wow! They make people even smaller than Jared! It's a baby, duh.
Hey, warden.
It seems like one of your inmates knocked up one of mine.
This precious cargo needs a daddy-o, Which reminds me of a song I wrote.
It's about responsibility.
You got life, brother Responsibility We'll teach that "weirdress" A thing or two about responsibility.
Once we identify your papa, You little bundle of criminal instincts.
You'll get the paternal bonding you need to Overcome your murderous tendencies and achieve Everything you want in life.
It seems our beautiful bastard's Genetic match has vamoosed! Had to get his DNA sample From this old spank mag in his cell.
Pig.
No matter! If modern science can create a baby in a lab, Then why not a parent? I've been waiting all week to try out Our new clone-amajig! Nein! But look at zeez readouts! Off-ze-chart tendencies toward anger, Violence, misogyny And only a microscopic quotient Of selfless love! It's called "playing God" For a reason, doctor! Let's have some fun! Warden, no! Multitudes of similitude.
I feel we are kindred spirits with these fellow multi-kind.
Agreed.
Socialize we must.
Commence with the rolling of the good times.
Jackknife was our most unruly inmate, And now there are thousands of him! Giving us an even greater pool Of potential papas! Oh, boy, is this baby lucky! Sir, I-I'm not sure the clones Will sit through your parenting lectures.
We can't snuff out the pick of the litter Without a little child rearing 101.
Shouldn't you have changed the real baby by now? He'll tell us when he needs something.
Babies take care of themselves, Jared.
Hope you don't mind a little chafing.
Sir, this is a disaster! They're destroying each other and Superjail! It's called natural selection, Jared.
Survival of the fittest.
They're instinctively competing for the honor of fatherhood.
And to stand in their way is to deny The will of papa nature! These will surely be most comforting environments For our human playmates.
Brother, is the repository of finer Personal gadgetry holding a sale? Any chair may become a massaging chair With this portable padding device! Such serenity.
This device calculates the precise point Of the host planet's daily rotation.
And suspends the data in midair.
These memory-foam slippers Are the softest substance in the fourteen phases! Doughnuts, at home, any time? Yeah, sorry.
Those are just for show.
Wait here.
In all my years at Superjail, I've never seen a mass Breakout on this scale! Pish-posh! This sweet silence clearly means The clones are off contemplating The colossal opportunity Of raising their own.
Perhaps our new twin buddies Would like a sip of our "slushie-slug.
" It seems they'd rather pal around With their new, new buddies.
We got a couple of bad dudes! release the security orb This disrupts our right to party.
It is no consequence, brother.
Us multi-kind are never truly by our lonesome.
You've done it! You've conquered the competition And claimed this cuddly, Would-be con as your own!
Hey, warden.
It seems like one of your inmates knocked up one of mine.
This precious cargo needs a daddy-o, Which reminds me of a song I wrote.
It's about responsibility.
You got life, brother Responsibility We'll teach that "weirdress" A thing or two about responsibility.
Once we identify your papa, You little bundle of criminal instincts.
You'll get the paternal bonding you need to Overcome your murderous tendencies and achieve Everything you want in life.
It seems our beautiful bastard's Genetic match has vamoosed! Had to get his DNA sample From this old spank mag in his cell.
Pig.
No matter! If modern science can create a baby in a lab, Then why not a parent? I've been waiting all week to try out Our new clone-amajig! Nein! But look at zeez readouts! Off-ze-chart tendencies toward anger, Violence, misogyny And only a microscopic quotient Of selfless love! It's called "playing God" For a reason, doctor! Let's have some fun! Warden, no! Multitudes of similitude.
I feel we are kindred spirits with these fellow multi-kind.
Agreed.
Socialize we must.
Commence with the rolling of the good times.
Jackknife was our most unruly inmate, And now there are thousands of him! Giving us an even greater pool Of potential papas! Oh, boy, is this baby lucky! Sir, I-I'm not sure the clones Will sit through your parenting lectures.
We can't snuff out the pick of the litter Without a little child rearing 101.
Shouldn't you have changed the real baby by now? He'll tell us when he needs something.
Babies take care of themselves, Jared.
Hope you don't mind a little chafing.
Sir, this is a disaster! They're destroying each other and Superjail! It's called natural selection, Jared.
Survival of the fittest.
They're instinctively competing for the honor of fatherhood.
And to stand in their way is to deny The will of papa nature! These will surely be most comforting environments For our human playmates.
Brother, is the repository of finer Personal gadgetry holding a sale? Any chair may become a massaging chair With this portable padding device! Such serenity.
This device calculates the precise point Of the host planet's daily rotation.
And suspends the data in midair.
These memory-foam slippers Are the softest substance in the fourteen phases! Doughnuts, at home, any time? Yeah, sorry.
Those are just for show.
Wait here.
In all my years at Superjail, I've never seen a mass Breakout on this scale! Pish-posh! This sweet silence clearly means The clones are off contemplating The colossal opportunity Of raising their own.
Perhaps our new twin buddies Would like a sip of our "slushie-slug.
" It seems they'd rather pal around With their new, new buddies.
We got a couple of bad dudes! release the security orb This disrupts our right to party.
It is no consequence, brother.
Us multi-kind are never truly by our lonesome.
You've done it! You've conquered the competition And claimed this cuddly, Would-be con as your own!