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Introduction

In the living room

(Ian and Anthony sit on the sofa)

ANTHONY

Hey guys, you'd like our Smosh Libs so much, we decided to do some more.

IAN

I wrote a story for Anthony,

IAN AND ANTHONY 

and

IAN 

He wrote another story for me.

(grabs a tissue box)

And I'm like kinda sick right now. So

(puts tissue paper on his nose)

can I do this in the video like this? Alright, let's get to (claps) uh choosing those Libs, shall we?

IAN AND ANTHONY

SMOSH LIBS!

(the Smosh Libs saying will be said after every section)

Anthony Babysits

Before the Smosh Lib

Anthony: Look at these amazing new cups we got. Major upgrade.


In Horny Cellmate

Ian: My freaking thing's so inflated.


Sometime later

Anthony: I, don't think it's in my stuff.


Sometime later

Anthony: It's not in here, it's on the ground.


Sometime later

Ian: You can't press it down unless you open it.

(Anthony yells while pressing on the bag)


Back in the present

Anthony: Alright.

Ian: So let's do my script.

Anthony: Alright.

Ian: Let's pull out my little, (grabs his script) my little libies. Yeah, starting it off with a noun.

Anthony: (shakes the cup) Baby powder!

Ian: Crazy adventure.

Anthony: Potato hunting.

Ian: (sneezes for the first time in the video) Food.

Anthony: (makes a deep noise) Fooooo----Cheesecake!

Ian: Bad cartoon catchphrase.

Anthony: The f**k does that mean? (reaches for a card) Raggy Roo. Curse you Perry the Platypus.

Ian: Accent.

Anthony: (speaks in a British accent) I'm the worst at doing accents. (picks a word and speaks in his normal voice) Irish. (whines)

Ian: Oh no. Adjective.

Anthony: Farting.

Ian: Number. (blows his nose for the first time in the video)

Anthony: (shakes the cup) Uh what's your number? Seventeen.

Ian: Weird sport.

Anthony: Curling. (puts the cup down) Isn't that like when you're on ice, and you...

Ian: You sweep the thing.

Anthony: Sweeping the thing and people are like (pretends to sweep a broom).

Ian: Yep, just like that. Type of movement.

Anthony: Fingering. It's not a movement.

Ian: It can be. And now pause for this really disgusting----(blows his nose for the second time) Greeting.

Anthony: Put your money in the bag, put it in! (laughs)

Ian: (writes down the phrase) Okay. Type of drink.

Anthony: Milky milkshake!

Ian: Something nasty. (blows his nose for the third time) This is what happens if you make a video when you're sick kids.

Anthony: Why do you assume they're kids?

Ian: Body part.

Anthony: Testicle.

(These other words are mentioned sometime later each)

Anthony: Douchebag. Fat!

Ian: Another body part.

Anthony: Left nostril.

Ian: Thing in space.

Anthony: Sandra Bullock.

Ian: (laughs and grabs a tissue) Ah, it's coming out of my nose. (blows his nose for the fourth time) And finally...

Anthony: Is it the last one?

Ian: Yeh, random word.

Anthony: (clapped when Ian was talking and picks out a word) Dickballs. (laughs)

Ian: Alright.

Anthony: (raises his arms) Let's get to my script!

Discussing the Smosh Lib

(Anthony's the narrator)

Anthony (in real life): Alright, let's try it. Anthony is sitting on baby powder playing with his purple thong.

Anthony (in the story): Wow,

Anthony (in real life): A crossed-eye Anthony exclaims:

Anthony (in the story): this has to be more fun than that one time I potato hunted with Kevin Hart!


In a flashback of the story

Anthony (in the story): Kevin Hart, quit dicking around and help me kill these potatoes!


Back in the present of the story

Anthony (in real life): Just then Anthony gets a call from his cheesecake phone that he keeps hidden in his underwear for emergencies. He picks the phone up rigorously and says:

Anthony (in the story): Curse you Perry the Platypus!

Anthony (in real life): The person answers back in a poorly-done Irish accent.

(the story pauses)

Anthony (in real life): Well I'm glad you wrote poorly-done.

Ian: I-I, I wrote it for you.

Anthony (in real life): All I could think about is Lucky Charms. (speaks in a poorly-done Irish accent) Can't get a hold of my Lucky Charms!

Ian : Well that's not even good.

(Anthony in real life shrugs and the story continues)

Tom: Guten tag, fellas! This is Tom Hiddleston! I've got this farting kid, and I need some dumb jerk to babysit him. Do you have any experience with farting kids?

Anthony (in real life): Anthony thinks hard.

Anthony (in the story): Well, the only job I've had before was as a YouTuber.

(the story pauses)

Ian: That worked out.

Anthony (in real life): That's actually pretty damn true.

Ian: (talked in the middle of Anthony talking) Yeah.

Anthony (in real life): (continues the story) Tom Hiddleston answered back:

Tom: Great! I'll be there in seventeen seconds you hot potato.

Anthony (in real life): Anthony decides to pass the time by doing curling naked. He then hears a ring at the door

Anthony (in the story): Who is it?

Anthony (in real life): and he fingers over to the door. Anthony opens the door to find Tom Hiddleston's kid standing their all alone.

Tom's kid: Put your money in the bag, put it in!

Anthony (in real life): the kid says while licking a frozen taco on a stick. Anthony looks fabulous and asks:

Anthony (in the story): Where's you mom?

Anthony (in real life): The kid answers:

Tom's kid: She was late for her job at the banana factory. Can I come in?

Anthony (in real life): Anthony sat the kid on his (giggles) tripod stand and Anthony gave the kid a glass of his favorite drink, a milky milkshake. The kid spat it out on Anthony's face.

Tom's kid: This tastes like blue waffle. I'm hungry! Make me a saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalad.

Anthony (in real life): Anthony looked at him weird.

Anthony (in the story): Really you want a salad? I know how to make a really good retarded strawberry Pop Tart.

Anthony (in real life): The kid started to cry out like a dying seal. (laughs) It got so loud and annoying that Anthony's ears and testicles started bleeding. (laughs) Anthony exclaimed:

Anthony (in the story): How will I ever shut this little douchebag up?

Anthony (in real life): He decided to make a salad out of his esophagus, a blood-covered chainsaw, and a tiny hooligan. When Tom Hiddleston returned, he found his child eating the "salad".

Tom's kid: Mm, best babysitter ever!

Anthony (in real life): Tom Hiddleston freaks out and yells:

Tom: You little fat tomato! You're the worst babysitter in the world!

Anthony (in real life): Tom Hiddleston kicks Anthony all the way up to space where he then hits his left nostril on Sandra Bullock. He then dies, but not before uttering his final word:

(the drum sets play for two seconds)

Anthony (in the story): Dickballs.

(the story ends)

Anthony (in real life): My final word's dickballs.

(Ian blows his nose for the fifth time)

Ian Gets a Call from the President

Before the Smosh Lib

Ian: You told me to have some extra clothes on just in case I might get wet.

Anthony: It's a possibility. And it begins with a verb.

Ian: Regurgitate.

Anthony: Family member.

Ian: That weird creepy uncle.

Anthony: Adjective!

Ian: Tiny.

(Anthony laughs)

Ian: (places the cup back at its proper spot) Oh no.

Anthony: Adjective, again.

Ian: Sensual. Sexting. Suck.

(Anthony laughs)

Ian: Seriously, why is everything I'm choosing sexual? I don't get it. I'm guessing I'm gonna get "naked" or something. Go.

Anthony: Food. I made a hoo-moo with my hoo-food.

Ian: Huge ice pop.

Anthony: (laughs) Made up insult.

Ian: (shakes the cup) There's a whole lot in here. You're such a slimy cock nazi.

Anthony: Bad pickup line.

Ian: Did you just fart; because you blew me away.

Anthony: Verb.

Ian: Attract.

(Anthony laughs)

Ian: Another sexual thing?

Anthony: Body part.

Ian: Rectum.

(Anthony laughs)

Ian: Damn it!

Anthony: Type of dance.

Ian: Lap dance.

Anthony: Oh really?

Ian: (sighs) Seriously, I've gotten like every sexual thing.

Anthony: Disney song.

Ian: Oh okay. Spoonful of Sugar from Mary Poppins.

Anthony: Type of liquid.

Ian: Blood.

Anthony: (talks while giggling) Blood? Alright, this is the last one. Number.

Ian: Twenty-three.

Anthony: Alright! I am excited for you guy to tell the script, beyond excited.

Ian: I am not.

Discussing the Smosh Lib

(Ian's the narrator)

Anthony: Alright, go ahead and read it. And and I made sure this time it has an actual story. Last time made, my story no sense.

Ian (in real life): It didn't make any sense.

Anthony: But this one makes sense!

Ian (in real life): Ian regurgitates awkwardly with all of his clothes on in a full bath tub when suddenly he gets a phone call. It's his crazy nudist weird creepy uncle who wants him and come to help him move a love seat to his new apartment. Ian lies to him and says:

Ian (in the story): Uh, I'm sorry, but I can't help because I am, uh

(Ian in real life sneezes for the second time)

Ian (in the story): helping the president of the United States to save the world!

Ian (in real life): Ian hangs up on the now angry family member,

Ian's uncle: (throws down his love seat) No one hangs up on a creepy nudist uncle!

Ian (in real life): and relaxes in the bath until he gets another phone call.

(Ian in the story gasp)

Ian (in real life): A tiny President Obama tells Ian:

Ian's uncle: (disgusts as Obama and talks in his voice) Hi, I'm President Barack Obama! I need your help you bowl-haired bag of s**t. I need you to do three very important things, or America will be destroyed!

Ian (in real life): A sensual Ian sexts from the tub and shouts:

Ian (in the story): Of course Mr. President Barack Obama. I'll do anything you need me to. (makes licking noises)

Ian (in real life): The president tells him:

Ian's uncle: The first thing you need to do is suck yourself with a huge ice pop one hundred twenty-three million, four hundred fifty-six thousand, seven hundred and eighty-nine times.

Ian (in real life): Ian tells the president:

Ian (in the story): Roads? Where we're going we don't need roads!

Ian (in real life): and wiggles out of the tub.


Ian (in real life): In the kitchen, Ian is about to suck himself with a huge ice pop, but gets freaked out and fakes it.

Ian (in the story): Oh man, I am sucking myself with this huge ice pop.

Ian (in real life): The president screams:

Ian's uncle: Look here you slimy cock nazi, I have a thousand security cameras set up in your house and I know that you're lying!

Ian (in real life): It is revealed that the president is now in the same room as Ian. The president threatens Ian with a pencil.

Ian's uncle: Nah, you better do it you bowl-haired bitch.

Ian (in real life): Ian sexily says:

Ian (in the story): Did you just fart; because you blew me away.

Ian (in real life): The president angrily exclaims:

Ian's uncle: STOP TRYING TO BUTTER ME UP AND GET TO IT!

Ian (in real life): Ian reluctantly sucks himself one hundred twenty-three million, four hundred fifty-six thousand, seven hundred and eighty-nine times. The president watches him like a poised creep.

Ian's uncle: You sucked that well.

Ian (in the story): I did it!

(children cheer)

Ian (in real life): (sneezes for the third time) The president regains his composure.

Ian's uncle: Uh okay. now it's time for your second task to save humanity. You need to attract a drunk old man with your rectum.

(Anthony laughs)

Ian (in real life): Ian finds a drunk old man and happily does it.

Ian (in the story): Hi you drunk stinky old man! (turns around and shows his butt) My love for you is like diarrhea; I just can't hold it in.

drunk old man: (spits out the liquid) That's so hot.

(Anthony giggles)

Ian (in real life): The president records it on his futuristic old woman's bra with a camera built in.

(Anthony laughs)

Ian (in real life): The president says:

Ian's uncle: Okay, and now for your final task, do a lap dance while singing Spoonful of Sugar and balancing dynamite on your head.

Ian (in real life): Ian does this while the president dances along the corner while making cat noises.

Ian's uncle: Meow, meow.

Ian (in real life): Ian suddenly trips and drops the dynamite and chops his head off. (pauses the story) Don't know how that works, but okay. (continues the story) The president sees this and laughs like Towelie from South Park

Ian's uncle: (laughs like Towelie) Wanna get high?!

Ian (in real life): then rips off a mask to reveal that he is in fact Ian's crazy nudist weird creepy uncle. He tells Ian:

Ian's uncle: You should have helped me move my love seat. I had to move it to the fifteenth floor all by myself.


In the flashback of the story

(Ian's uncle tries to move the love seat all by himself, but fails)


Back in the present of the story

Ian (in real life): Ian cries blood and says:

Ian (in the story): Well, I learned my lesson. If I had never lied to my family, I would still have my body and stuffs.

Ian (in real life): Ian's head is then put into a box and he says:

Ian (in the story): I guess I didn't get, ahead of the situation!

Ian (in real life): He laughs at his own joke for twenty-three straight seconds without stopping.

(Anthony laughs)


23 seconds later

Ian (in real life): He then dies of hunger because he has no arms to feed himself.

(Anthony laughs)

Ian (in real life): The end.

Ending

Anthony: Wow, I think that gotten even more weird than last Smosh Libs. I didn't think that was possible.

Ian: So thanks a lot for sending in your suggestions guys and making this way weirder than it should've been.

Anthony: And uh, actually guys, leave suggestions below for other themes that you think we should. Today, we did Ian meets Barack Obama, Anthony babysits, and yeah, we'll use those suggestions for next time.

Ian: And uh----What's that? (grabs the picture of Sandra Bullock) Sandra Bullock, you wanna make out? Oh, okay. (makes out with the picture)

Anthony: (picks up a cardboard phone) I'm getting a call from the president. What's that Mr. President, you want me to make out with Sandra Bullock instead of Ian?

Ian: What?!

Anthony : Okay, give me Sandra Bullock, I get her.

(Ian sighs and gives the Sandra Bullock photo to Anthony)

Anthony: (takes the photo) President's orders. (makes out with the photo)


In a previous part of the episode

Anthony: my Lucky Char----(laughs) All Irish people, you are free to bash on me.

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