♪ ♪
Ahh!
- Hoo! - [gasps]
My hair doesn't count.
I'm still in.
Ugh!
I can't wait for yoga week.
- I'm here. I'm here.
[panting] Sorry I'm late, guys.
- Clyde, are you okay? Augh!
You're looking pretty sweaty.
- Yeah, and where are the Monday mornin' muffins
you always bake?
- Didn't bake any.
Last night something awful happened.
- Oof!
- I was having tea and watching "Operation Dessert Storm"...
Come on, Zamir. Your flan is gonna clinch it.
- This week's winner is an all-around good guy
who cleans beaches and fosters cats.
Give it up for everyone's favorite whisking king, Zamir!
- Yes! Yes! Yes!
- Hold the heavy cream.
I've just been told one contestant
has been disqualified for using a non-regulation whisk.
Zamir, please pack your muffin tins and go.
- [[gasps, growls]
- What? You mad 'cause your favorite contestant cheated?
- Zamir didn't cheat. He would never cheat.
- Ow! - Ugh!
- Maybe you can root for a different contestant.
What about Maneet?
Maneet's cream puffs...
[growling]
Are dry!
Ahh!
[whistle tweets]
- Guys, I think we just won.
[all groaning]
- You just saved our butts.
- Wow. I guess that was me working through
my "Dessert Storm" anger.
Think I'll relax with a cup of herbal tea in the locker room.
- Wow. He destroyed that team.
- Yeah, if Clyde keeps his rage up,
surviving dodgeball week will be a cinch.
- Yeah, I hate to put a frost on your harvest,
but Clyde's not gonna stay mad over this all week.
In fact, it seems like he's already over it.
- I think I know how to make Clyde angry again.
- All right, teams, line up.
- This better work, dawg.
I can't get any more bruises.
You know black and blue aren't my colors.
- Trust me.
Hey, Clyde, I don't want to "whisk" getting a penalty,
but does this ball look non-regulation to you?
- Non-regulation?
- Please pack your muffin tins and go...go...
- [growling]
- Do you worst, losers.
- Ahh!
all: Ahh!
[whistle tweets]
- So glad I got that out of my system.
Welp, herbal tea time.
- They wouldn't disqualify me for wearing this, would they?
[energetic rock music]
- Argh! Argh!
all: Ahh!
[whistle tweets] And that's game.
- Here you go, Clyde.
I made some pregame quiche.
I found the recipe on Zamir's blog.
- [growling]
all: Ahh!
- Clyde, can you get this itch for me?
I can't reach.
- [growling]
all: Ahh!
- Man, I'm so happy dodgeball week is finally over!
- Oh, me too.
Peanut butter and jelly tastes so much better
when your jaw's not numb.
- I can finally use ice for my juice and not my forehead.
- Yeah. And we owe it all to Clyde.
Where is that rage monster anyway?
- He's over there picking up trash.
You know how Clyde hates litter.
- They couldn't have walked two more feet
to throw this out?
- I'm really glad we don't have to make Clyde angry anymore.
[together] Yeah, me too. Yeah. Totally.
- Yoga week, here we come.
all: Namaste.
- Stop.
Aren't you guys forgetting something?
[birds chirping]
- Hey, Loud.
I have no idea how that McBride kid got so good at dodgeball.
- Uh, well, you see--
- And I don't really care.
He has turned you into the best team I've ever seen.
Uh, well, in America.
When I was spelunking in Iceland,
I came across a team that would squish you like bugs.
- Heh-heh, interesting story, Mr. B.
- Listen, change of plans.
Coach Keck's stuck at the gym teacher convention,
so I'll be in charge again next week.
And that means more dodgeball.
On Monday, you guys are playing the eighth graders.
[all grunting]
- Why? - For fun.
You're welcome.
- So this is really bad news for anyone
who doesn't like body casts.
- I don't know why y'all acting like ya got a horsefly
in your underpants.
As long as Clyde's mad about that Zamir feller,
we still got our secret weapon.
- Guys, guess what.
My Dad's just texted me:
"Zamir has been brought back to "Operation Dessert Storm."
Turns out there was a kerfuffle with the equipment check.
The whisk was regulation after all.
Isn't that great?
- How about the timing for that, huh, guys? Heh-heh-heh.
- They even promised him a spin-off,
"Whisking It All with Zamir."
I feel like celebrating.
I'm off to Home Ec to bake up a storm.
Oops, almost crunch ya, little fella.
Come on, bake with me.
- [groans]
[screams]