On a frosty winter's night, a wagon appeared at the gates of Fort Klugman...
...carrying pioneers to the frontier.
A young woman in the party called Delia was heavy with child.
And though she had journeyed with the virile young men...
...for nigh on one year, none had lain with her, though she was comely.
And on this frosty winter's night, young Delia's water broke...
...almost freezing her to the seat of the wagon.
And the pioneers beseeched the soldiers to grant them entrance...
---So that she could give birth to her child in the hospital there.
But due to an outbreak of syphilis among the soldiers, the hospital was full.
And so there in the stable, among the feed and tack and the whatsis...
...Delia gave birth to a son whom she called Alvis, as was her won't.
And since none of the men in the party were the father...
...it was decided among them that the birth of this child must truly be a miracle.
And it was so, for above the fort...
...there suddenly and miraculously appeared an awesome and mighty comet.
And so brilliant was its light that there came from all the tribes...
...which the soldiers had not yet decimated, shamans.
And they rode upon buffalo as was their heathen custom...
...bearing gifts, offerings of whiskey and firearms.
And when the shamans saw the child, they were in awe...
...for he glowed as if bathed in a light...
...which was truly not of this world, so--
- So... - So does little--
- Cody. - Does Cody glow by himself?
- No. - Right, so plop him in there.
I wanna fire up those halogens.
That's dangerous. Light bulbs are way too hot!
Woman, the swaddling clothes are asbestos!
- Now wrap him up. - Asbestos!
Yeah, and his pistol's just a little .22. Couldn't hurt a flea.
- What did I just this second tell you? - Oh, come on, you idiots!
- Look, them breakers ain't rated for this. - Well, cram a penny in there.
A penny will start a fire.
Look, shamans wouldn't ride buffaloes a jillion miles...
-...to see that little piece of crap comet. - A penny will start a fire.
Would you ride your buffalo a jillion miles to see that piece of crap comet?
My buffalo's mean.
Brighter! I want these jerks quaking at the sight, just like in The Book of Alvis.
A penny will start a fire.
Do you know anything about buffaloes?
I know enough not to fool with them.
Well, put some ass bags on them, like in a parade.
And fire up that sound system. I wanna hear some freaking pomp!
Sir, what's the deal on this flyer?
Yeah! It's gonna be awesome! We got the guns, the liquor, the ham.
Just waiting on the ammo...
...because I really want us to really remember...
...what the Feast of Alvis was really all about.
Because it always gets so damn commercialized.
Okay, but we never do a big Alvistime thing.
- Because it's offensive to non-Alvians. - Non-Alvians? Who the hell's non-Alvian?
Only about a third of the crew is Alvian, sir.
Come on. Now, that's just crap, right?
About 20 percent are Sheikra, 15 percent are Mandu--
Six percent Hempish, two percent Krebish, and--
The Krebs already had their Alvistime.
- The Nine Nights of Krebula? - Yeah. Nobody busted their chops.
Because religious tolerance is a mainstay of the Sealab charter.
And we had a special menu for a month for the Sheikras' little dealy.
- Do you mean Sheikradon? - Whatever.
- The Sheikras fast during Sheikradon. - Yeah, and we had tons of leftovers.
Look, I'm an Alvian, maybe not the best one ever...
...maybe not even fifth best, but I'm the boss.
And this year, Alvis is in the hizzy.
The hizzy?
Your little ham-and-liquor hootenanny isn't gonna--
It's not a hootenanny. It's an extravaganza.
Full of pomp!
Shut up! Get in there! Shut up!
- Are you drunk? - Shut up.
- Shut your drunk ass up. - Shut up.
Come on. Alvians get wasted at Alvistime, so quit oppressing us.
- Shut up! - What's with all the Alvistime stuff?
- We were just asking the same thing. - No, no, no. This is totally offensive.
- We were just saying the same thing. - Shut up.
You shut up, you--
_**** you, - Stop cussing in front of baby Alvis.
He's a miraculous miracle incarnate.
What's that supposed to mean?
Parting the Rio Grande and a miracle birth? It's a fairy tale.
Well, here's a non-fairy tale for you. You're fired.
- You can't fire him based on religious-- - How can you worship that guy?
- He killed a man. - Hey, only for revenge.
"Vengeance is mine," quoth Alvis.
Then he shot that guy right in the freaking face.
- He was a drunk and a criminal! - Blasphemer.
Alvis was the holiest man ever to slap iron. He killed for your sins.
Most religions think Alvis' love of liquor...
-...and guns and revenge was... - Creepy.
Well, maybe most religions can hash it out in hell for all eternity.
- Alvis will smoke those bitches. - Malkans don't believe in hell.
- You're a witch? - Malka's not about witchcraft.
No, no. You're fired. Get on your broom.
- You can't file someone based on religious-- - Don't let Marco catch you on the way out.
- Chthonics freak out about witches and crap. - Who you calling chthonic?
Back me up here. I'm surrounded by tree-hugging Alvis-haters.
- I don't hate Alvis. - Who told you I was chthonic?
- You're a Spaniard, so I-- - A Spaniard?
- Oh, hell. - Now you did it.
- A Spaniard?! - Hey.
I'm not from Spain! In fact, 85 percent of Spanish-speaking people...
...in the world are not from Spain!
- I don't wanna get into a big thing here. - And all Latinos aren't chthonic!
- Shut your River-Styx-loving ass. - Well, what the hell are you?
What the hell was that? Did you just hex me, you bastard?
Shut your damn jibber jabber. Jibber jabber...
- Come here, Stormy! - I'll beat your Styx-drinking ass!
Stop that damn fighting. You're ruining Alvistime for everybody!
Sir, that's my whole point. The Feast of Alvis isn't for everybody.
It's only for a minority of people.
The largest minority, but a minority all the same.
So we feel it's wrong to force your beliefs on the non-Alvians of--
Eggnog!
- What? - What you scrooges need is some eggnog.
Plenty of liquor and nutmeg.
I'm afraid this is one problem that liquor isn't going to fix.
No, not just liquor. Come on, it's got nutmeg.
You know, like Malcolm X got high on in prison.
What are the Krebbish or the Sheikra crew members...
...supposed to do when they all go on shift?
Hang around with all the shamans and buffalo and--
- Like a Sheikra's never seen a buffalo? - Now you're just being racist.
Oh, yeah. I knew you'd play that card.
- And what card is that? - You know what card it is.
- No, spell it out! - I'll spell the hell out of it for you!
Captain, stop it.
I want some damn Alvistime spirit in here, as is befitting Alvis, my lord!
Your lord? It's a baby with a freaking gun cooking over a floodlight!
- Hey, why are you still here, Harry Potter? - Just give me a damn penny.
Yeah, hi. So we're not staying.
Sticking around for the pageant, but thanks. Thank you.
Yeah? Well, I hope Cody has fun getting his ass kicked...
...every day of his whole life with a sissy name like that!
Okay. Yeah, Cody's a girl.
- Yeah. And I called Social Services-- - A girl baby Alvis? That's messed up, lady!
Hey. Hey, which one of you is Captain Murphy?
That's Murphy right there.
- Happy holidays, sir. - Totally.
- All right, what do you want? - County health inspector.
Your buffet tested positive for fecal matter.
We're gonna have to give you a little fine there, but have a happy Alvistime.
- A fine? A fine?! - Hi, Rae Pederman, Family Services.
Lady, unless you got a baby Alvis jammed up your skirt, tell your story walking.
Yeah, a baby. Did you give a baby a gun and then wrap him in asbestos?
Oh, that. I mean, I can explain that. See, on a frosty winter's--
Keep them heads down. Get a dart in that
This is a summons. You're to appear in family court, trial part 61...
I'll beat trial part 61's ass!
Hey, you young'uns get away from that buffet. That thing is crawling with giardia.
- You don't want that. - Oh, crap, he's doubled back.
Stop it now. Stop it.
- It's Alvistime! Have some eggnog. - Fire! Fire!
Damn you, have a ham hock.
Fire! Fire!
I'm trying to commune! You're ruining the feast.
- I told you, you dumb son of a bitch. - Alvis, damn it!
It's Alvistime!
Alvis, I've failed you.
I tried to make a nice Feast of Alvis, and it's all turned to crap.
Crap, crap, crap!
Crap!
Lo then, damn it. Lo.
Why dost thou gnash and weep and scream "crap"?
Oh, sweet Delia! Is it--? Oh, it's you, isn't it?
- Alvis. - Bingo.
I was-- There was supposed to be a big feast with ham and pomp and--
Crap-screamer, you are forgetting the true meaning of Alvistime.
...
Neither is it ham nor pomp.
Nay, the true meaning of Alvistime is drinking.
Drinking and revenge.
I got eggnog, but I don't think it's enough to get really loaded.
- Crap-screamer! - More of a liqueur.
Behold!
It's a miracle! Truly an Alvistime miracle.
Now drink with me deeply of the bourbon, Scotch and rye...
...until such time as we are fighting drunk.
Then we shall find and beat the asses of the nonbelievers who ruined my feast.
- Especially whoever crapped the buffet. - No. No, sir, that was me.
- Alvis bless us every one. - You're damn straight he does.
Yes, the concussion could cause you to hallucinate and see all kinds--
He was real, I'm telling you. We got drunk together.
We were gonna get some revenge on the frigging Krebs.
What? Have you never read the Book of Alvis?
- Alvis was himself a Kreb. - What?
Yes, it was the Romans who killed him.
So, in truthful fact, I suppose you should be angry with the Italians.
- What kind of Mandu crap are you talking? - Oh, yes, what do I know?
My religion is only 5000 years old.
Five thousand years of stupid.
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