South Park fanfiction.
"You still sure about this?" I asked. Stan nodded.
Terrific…I was starting to have doubts about this plan. I didn't even know why I had mentioned it to Stan at all. It wasn't that it wouldn't work, because it would; it would just bring back too many painful memories.
"What are you waiting for?" Stan asked.
"Well…I was just thinking that maybe we could find some other way to reach Cthulhu."
"Like how?" Stan said. "This was your idea! And there isn't another way to get to Cthulhu; we need him!"
"Okay, fine," I said. We were already standing in front of the mirror, and all we had to do was say the word three times. Or rather, I had to say it, since I was the one on the mission. Before he left, he had told us how to summon him, in case he was needed. I had made up my mind then and there never to do it, but it seemed I hadn't been given a choice.
Oh well, here it goes…
I looked at my reflection in the mirror, and clearly uttered, "Shablagoo." After about a second, I repeated it: "Shablagoo." And again: "SHABLAGOO."
The final word seemed to echo for a moment across time and space. Before it had stopped ringing, a portal opened right there in the bathroom, spewing cereal and crispy leaves everywhere. Then someone stepped out of the portal, which closed behind him. He was half man, and half berry, and he wore a green outfit that looked like it was made of leaves. But most infuriating of all was his cheerful, carefree smile.
It was our old friend and Henrietta's adopted brother, Bradley Biggle, whose real name we later found out was Gokzarah. But now everybody knew him as the "Amazing" Mint-Berry Crunch.
"You banished me, but I'm back! What does that make me?" I asked Cthulhu.
Cthulhu paused his rampage and looked at me: Kenny, or rather Mysterion. Just one of several upstarts he had banished to R'lyeh. But I had managed to escape, and, rather than go and hide, I had returned to confront him.
"An immortal…" he said. But he did not speak aloud; the words had been sent directly to my mind, for he was speaking to me, and me alone.
"Bring back my friends," I cried. "Take me!"
This was what I would do. My friends would never remember my final death, and they would never recognize me for the sacrifice I was about to make for them. But, maybe, if Cthulhu succeeded in destroying me once and for all, the long nightmare would be over, and I would have finally put this curse to some constructive purpose.
Several voices rose against me. Bradley, standing on the sidelines like a wimp, screamed, "Mysterion, no! What are you doing?" while Cartman yelled at Cthulhu to ignore me. "Only an immortal can kill another immortal," I told Bradley. I closed my eyes, wondering if this final death would be painful or not, but it didn't come. I looked back at Cthulhu; he was still just standing there. "Here's you prize! Take this curse from me, you big pussy!" I yelled. "Go on! Kill me before I kill you, but bring my friends back, wuss!"
Cartman spoke again. God, his raccoon costume looked dumber every time I saw it. "Cthulhu, you are a Coon Friend, and you will listen to me!" (Looking back on this moment, the fact that he really did know about my curse back then made me even angrier; not only had he offered none of the help a friend should give, but he had prevented me from ending my existence with dignity)
Cthulhu picked up his partner, and began walking away. "No, come back!" I cried desperately, "I HAVE TO KNOW WHAT I AM!"
Cthulhu sneered, and said, "Have no fear. You will die, my foe. But not today." Cartman may have heard him, too, because he laughed cruelly. I hurled every insult I could think at them both, hoping the Dark One would strike me down, but to no avail.
Then a portal opened in front of me. An alien man appeared in it, and began to speak. He spoke to me as his son, and told me that these were dark times, and that I would begin to understand my powers, that I may use them for good. I began to glimpse a heroic future. No more drunken family. No more irritating friends. No more pointless deaths. My curse would become a blessing, and I would go on to use my powers for good. But then, in an instant, my hopes were struck down.
Because it was all a joke.
The alien had actually been talking over my shoulder, to someone standing behind me. Bradley Biggle.
Fucking Mint-Berry fucking Crunch had superpowers after all.
Bradley then flew up (he could even fly), and began fighting Cthulhu.
I didn't watch. I didn't watch as Mint-Berry Crunch defeated Cthulhu, and banished him back to R'lyeh. I didn't watch as he brought back Stan, Kyle, and the others, and then sealed the dimensional passageway. I didn't watch as Bradley, Bradley who had let Cartman walk all over him, who had the lamest superpower of all, and who had peed his pants at the sight of Cthulhu, took all the credit for what I was ready to give my life to do, and ultimately left me with nothing.
I didn't watch because I was looking up at the sky. In the swirling storm above the devastation, one of the clouds seemed to form the shape of a middle finger, pointing straight up.
The universe had spoken: "Fuck you, Kenny McCormick."
Bradley didn't look like he had aged at all in the past five years. He still looked 9 years old, and his ridiculous costume hadn't changed, either. Perhaps that was what made me recall those painful memories even more clearly.
"Hello, my friends!" he said. "How can I be of service?" Then he looked at us, and saw that we had gotten older. Maybe he wasn't aware of his own apparent immortality.
Hmm…if he was immortal, then would he remember me? No, no time for that.
"Well, first off," Stan said, "we want to say hi. It's been a while since we last saw you, Mint-Berry Crunch." Just had to be the gentleman, didn't you, Stan?
I gritted my teeth. "Hi." Rationally, I really shouldn't have been mad at Bradley himself; after all, he had just been trying to save his friends, just like I was doing. He hadn't done anything wrong. It was just the overwhelming unfairness of it all had broken me. After the incident, I had been really mad at God, and the universe, and everything else in the heavens for screwing me over like that. I didn't go to church for about a month, and I spewed enough venom against God to make even that crude Frenchy, Christophe, proud. But eventually my anger with the Almighty had subsided, and Bradley, being a bit more tangible person, had become the object of my hate.
But, like I said, it was an irrational hate. And that was about the only reason I was able to speak to him as a civilized human being. "Bradley, we need you to take us somewhere," I said.
"Mint-Berry Crunch always helps his friends," Bradley chirped. "Just name your destination, and I'll bring us there in a flash."
"The Lost City of R'lyeh," Stan and I said simultaneously.
The insufferable smile on Bradley's face faltered. "R'lyeh?" he asked, making sure he had heard us correctly.
"Yes," I said. "We're going to have a little chat with Cthulhu."