South Park fanfiction.
Well, that feeling of happiness sure had faded fast.
As it turned out, Lizzy's great plan unfortunately didn't work. We had gotten to the studio where they aired "Jesus and Pals," asked to see the footage, and it had graciously been presented. We were about halfway through it, now, and I was getting more pissed by the second. Apparently, instead of going on the show to talk about my curse, I had gone on to see if there was anyone who had wanted me to continue my show, "Krazy Kenny."
And the callers? Well…
Father Maxi had called, and told me not to be stupid.
Kyle had called to say I didn't have to try and get attention this way.
Tammy wasn't too hot about the idea, but said she would support me if I chose to reboot the show.
Heidi was now coming on.
"Are you kidding me, Kenny? That's so disgusting: you are FUCKING NUTS! I changed my mind; I am NOT going to that dance with you! You stay away from me!"
Then Eric, of course, had gloated about me losing my date.
Each event had happened almost exactly as I remembered it, except neither my death nor any mention of it was there. Everything fit, but it was all a lie.
Finally, I watched as the me on the screen had finally cracked and run off the stage in embarrassment, much to the amusement of the crowd. This whole thing was even more humiliating than what had actually happened! I looked like an idiot on that show!
As if she could read my thoughts, Lizzy put her hand on my shoulder and said, "You weren't that bad when you actually went on." Then she frowned. "I could have sworn that would work."
Truth be told, there had been a small voice at the back of my mind that had told me it wouldn't work. "If the curse can change everyone's memories so that no one remembers, it makes sense that it could also make sure there wasn't any evidence of my death left for anyone to see," I said.
Jesus, who had watched the show with us, shook his head. "I'm sorry, son."
Lizzy was holding back tears, frustrated that we had come so close. "Mr. Christ, you remember, right?"
"Of course, my dear. You are both apparently immortal, but if anyone else knows that, they have yet to step forward," Jesus finished.
"Well," Lizzy said, "couldn't you tell them all the truth?"
Jesus shook His head. "I'm afraid that wouldn't do any good."
"But-but you're Jesus! They have to believe You!" Lizzy wailed.
"I said a lot of things in the Bible, and not everyone believed that," Jesus said. Kind of hard to argue with that logic.
Once again, I sank into my typical resignation that I would be the only one to know of my curse. It would be a little better now that I had Lizzy for company, but we had come so fucking close that it felt like we were being robbed all over again. A glimmer of hope had been dropped into our hands before being ripped away. It was just cruel.
"Goddammit!" I growled. Then, seeing the stern look on Jesus's face, I uttered a quick apology.
I had to go back to school the next day, and the only thing I was looking forward to was getting through it as quickly as possible so I could spend some time with Lizzy. School meant nothing me anymore; nobody there but Craig, who was probably waiting to beat me up again, a bunch of clueless teachers, and the assholes more commonly known as my "friends."
First period was History, as taught by Herbert Garrison, who used to be our old elementary school teacher. About a year ago, someone had finally figured out that Garrison was too fucked up in the head to teach 4th graders, and so they had decided to let him teach somewhere where his antics wouldn't permanently scar little kids: in other words, high school. It made a little bit of sense, but that didn't change how much it sucked for those of us who thought we had been rid of him forever.
At least he didn't wear that stupid puppet, anymore.
As Garrison talked on about witch hunts, Eric leaned over towards me. "You got my money, Kenny?" he asked snickering.
"The dance isn't for another five days, fat boy." I said.
"Whaddya mean? We had a deal, Kenny!"
I rolled my eyes. "Oh, so when I ask for the money in advance, I'm an asshole, but when you do it, it's ok?"
"And by the way," I continued, working up a smile, "I don't owe you any money, because I got another date."
That got the attention of several of the other boys, including (to my chagrin) Craig. "Who did you get?" asked Stan.
I winked. "That's a secret."
"Aw, come on, Kenny, you can tell us," Butters pleaded.
"My lips are sealed," I said. I couldn't let Eric know who my date was, because I was sure he would do anything to win the bet. Although it might be a good idea to let Craig know it wasn't his cousin before he went ape-shit on me like yesterday.
Eric's face was getting redder and redder by the second. It looked like steam was about to come out of his ears. "He's bluffing, you guys," he finally managed. "He doesn't really have a girl."
I just grinned. "Want a way out, Cartman? How about we raise the stakes?"
"Since I'm not a selfish bastard like you, I'll give you a chance. Now you have to come to the dance with a girl. If we both have girls, or if neither of us have girls, then nobody owes anybody anything. And if you have a date, but I don't, then I'll owe you $30, instead of $20."
Eric nodded, liking the sound of it so far.
"But," I went on, "if I have a date and you don't…" The grin slid off Eric's face, but he quickly recovered.
"You've got yourself a bet, Kenny! And you won't be able to Jew your way out of it this time!" Kyle glared at him, but then went back to ignoring Cartman.
I wasn't worried that Eric would win. I had a date, and he couldn't touch her, so I was safe. Whereas he had about as much chance of getting a girl as an elephant did of falling in love with a pig. Although stranger things had happened.
The rest of the day flew by. Before I knew it, I was in the last class of the day: Home Ec. You may think of me as a wuss for being here, but you've never been decapitated by a buzzsaw in Shop Class, I'll bet. I had always looked forward to Home Ec., mostly because there were always a lot of girls in the class.
Now, where should I sit today? Definitely not near Red or Heidi. Stan might take it the wrong way if I sat next to Wendy, but it's not like he would know.
Wait, I thought, I have a girl now. I shouldn't be thinking about flirting. Then I told myself to stop being paranoid; just because I sat next to a girl didn't mean I was trying to get into her pants. Just act normal.
But before I had a chance to sit down anywhere, I heard an angry voice over the loudspeaker: "Kenny McCormick to principal's office immediately, m'kay!"
The principal's office? But I hadn't done anything!
A few minutes later, I was sitting in front of John Mackey, the high school principal. Mr. Mackey used to be our elementary school counselor, before he got promoted to this new position. I really don't know how he got a promotion; he was almost as inept a counselor as Mr. Garrison was a teacher.
But not quite.
Honestly, though, what scared me more about all this was that Officer Barbrady was here, too.
"Do you know why you're here, Mr. McCormick?" Mr. Mackey asked.
I shook my head.
"We received information from a concerned student that you have brought a weapon to school, m'kay. Is this true?"
Oh, shit! The gun! It was in my pocket, just like always. How could I have been so stupid! Mr. Mackey must have seen the look on my face, because he went on. "Now, I shouldn't have to tell you, Mr. McCormick, that, well, guns are bad. They hurt people, and you shouldn't bring a gun to school, because then you're bad, m'kay?"
That was why Barbrady was there. I was about to get kicked out for this. "Please, Mr. Mackey, give me chance. You know I wouldn't hurt anyone."
"I'm sorry, Kenny," Mr. Mackey said.
Okay, I thought, what would Eric do? Eric could talk his way out of this. "Well, Mr. Mackey, I live in a dangerous part of town. I need to protect myself, or else I would get mugged. You know, by all those hobos and drug users?"
Mackey thought about it. "Well, I don't know, Kenny, this is serious. Expulsion is the standard punishment for bringing a weapon to school. What should we do, officer"
Barbrady looked shocked. "Hey! Don't drag me into this mess!"
The word "expulsion," coupled with my mind being on Eric's scheming, turned on a light bulb. It was Cartman. He had been the one to tell Mr. Mackey that I had a gun. He was trying to get me expelled from school, which meant I couldn't go to the dance, which meant I couldn't have a date, which meant he would win the bet. It smelled of Cartman's foul stench. He didn't know I was going with Lizzy, so instead of taking her out of the picture (which was his usual MO), he was taking me out. He would do anything to win.
I started fuming. This was a low, even for Cartman. He was going to ruin any chance I had of getting an education just so he could win a bet? When I caught up with him, I was gonna tear him limb from li-
…wait…how had Cartman found out about my gun? I never used it for anything except suicides, so how did he know I even owned one? And even if he knew that, how could he possibly know I took it to school? He's never seen me use it, has he? Has he…oh my God…
It all clicked. He had to have seen me kill myself before. There was no doubt about it.