[Kyle visits the Children's Therapy Center to see children who really have Tourette's]
Well, Mr. and Mrs. Broflovski, I think your son has learned a lot and he appears to be honestly remorseful for making fun of people with disabilities. Piss! Piss!
Our son is a good kid; he just didn't understand that Tourette's is a real disease.
Well, I think the only thing left is for your son to apologize to his little classmate. [Cartman walks up and bats his eyes in anticipation]
Well, Kyle?
[through his teeth, with his fists clenched] I'm sorry.
What was that? I couldn't quite make that out, Kyle.
I'm sorry!
You're "starry?" I don't get what you mean by that, Kyle. You're starry because I--
I said I'm sorry, you piece of-- [cuts himself off]
Oh-oh, no, don't worry about it, Kyle, I understand. I've learned to deal with intolerance. Dumbstruck douchebag! And it means a lot that you're standing here, apologizing, with your dad and lovely mother. Fat Jew! Jew bitch! [covers mouth]
Oh, thank you, Eric.
Thank you. Big-nosed kike!
Well, I think we can all put all this behind us now. Piss out my ass!
Yeah! Piss out your ass right onto Kyle's mom's fat fucking Jew face! [coughs] Oh goodness, excuse me. Oh geez, that was a bad one.
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