Now that enough time has lapsed, we can all have a good laugh over South Park creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone's amusing little April Fools prank, in which they kicked off the show's second season not with the conclusion to season one's cliffhanger that would reveal the identity of Cartman's father, but with an all-Terrance, all-Phillip, all-farting episode, "Not Without My Anus." The ensuing outcry illustrated just how seriously its devoted fans take South Park. There is little evidence of sophomore slump in this three-disc collection of 18 episodes that continue the coming-of-age trials of third graders Stan, Kyle, Cartman, and Kenny. There is considerable shock value just in the episode titles alone, among them "Cojoined Fetus Lady," "Merry Christmas, Charlie Manson," and the infamous "Cartman's Mom Is Still a Dirty Slut." But mostly, the episodes are just--in Cartman's words--hella funny. "Spookyfish" is a creepfest about a killer fish, possessed animals, and alien alter egos (in which the so-called Evil Cartman is much nicer than the real Cartman) presented in Spookyvision, with pictures of Barbra Streisand framing the screen. "Chef's Salty Chocolate Balls" is a hilarious send-up of the Sundance Film Festival and the indie film scene that marks the return of Mr. Hankey, the Christmas Poo, and ends with the burial of Robert Redford in excrement.

As always, hard-earned life lessons provide South Park with fertile territory for skewed and subversive social commentary. In "Chicken Lover," Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged is an argument against literacy. "Underwear Gnomes" makes a strong case for corporate takeover of local family business. It is difficult to respect Warner Bros.' "authoritah" with the scant DVD extras. There are no commentaries, but Parker and Stone are present to introduce most of the episodes, each of which they proclaim to be their favorite. But their incarnations as abusive retirement center entertainers and as the hosts of an all-bacon cooking show fall flat. Bring back Rootin'-Tootin' Trey Parker and Pistol-Slingin' Matt Stone from the Season One set!

There is nothing in South Park's seventh season to offend Tom Cruise (nothing about Scientology, at any rate; that will come in season 9). However, Jennifer Lopez and Ben Affleck, Rob Reiner, the Queer Eye guys, Christopher Reeve (!), war supporters and anti-war protesters, and Mormons, do not get off so easy. But, "Who cares?" as the townspeople sing in "I'm a Little Bit Country." What matters is that with this particular episode, South Park attained the precious, syndication-ready 100-episode mark! Another milestone: "Raisins," in which Wendy breaks up with Stan, who falls under the influence of the "Goth kids" ("If you want to be one of the non-comformists, all you have to do is dress just like us and listen to the same music we do").

Even by South Park standards, season 7 is pretty hardcore. In "Christian Rock Hard," Cartman is so determined to attain platinum album status before Kyle and his band that he forms a Christian rock group. The band's repertoire makes Tom Lehrer's once-scandalous "Vatican Rag" sound like "Oh, Happy Day." But mostly, South Park creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone take Cheney-like potshots at pop-culture notables. In "South Park Is Gay!", we discover what is really behind the "metrosexual" phenomenon and the true identity of the Queer Eye for the Straight Guy quartet. In "Butt Out," Rob Reiner is portrayed as a corpulent goo-filled "fascist" willing to the sanction murder (of Cartman) to further his anti-"Big Tobacco" agenda. As you can guess from the title, "Fat Butt and Pancake Head" is a merciless deconstruction of "Bennifer," as Cartman's Jennifer Lopez hand puppet dethrones the real thing, and attracts the amorous attention of Ben Affleck. "All About Mormons" anticipates the Scientology episode, "Trapped in the Closet" (not included here, and if lawyers have anything to say about it, might not be included in a season 9 set, either) with a straight-faced musical dramatization of the Joseph Smith story. "Everyone thought we were making stuff up to be funny," Parker and Stone relate in their mini commentary (optional for each episode). "But we're not. We're not making this stuff up in this show." Which is perhaps why the episode "Cancelled," which posits that Earth exists only as reality-TV fodder for aliens, doesn't seem so farfetched.

What began as a construction-paper film short evolved into a veritable pop-culture phenomenon for Trey Parker and Matt Stone's outrageous animated comedy series SOUTH PARK. Centered on the hilarious misadventures of four potty-mouthed grade-schoolers