"Kenny, what are you doing?" Kyle asked. "Why are you carrying a gun?"
"Don't worry about that," Kenny insisted, twirling the gun casually in his hand. "For now, just keep reading."
Kenny strolled down the street, whistling. Sometimes, he thought, it's good to be me.
Sure, his family was so poor they could only eat at McDonald's on special occasions. Sure, his friends were assholes who never remembered when he died.
But he had just made out with Kyle Broflovski. Life could be good sometimes.
"There it is again," Stan noticed. "'We never remembered when you die?' Come on, of course we would remember something like that."
"No, you WOULDN'T," Kenny shouted. "You guys always forget, but so help me, these fanfic writers will help me prove it."
Kenny was sure that he benefited more from high school than most of his other friends. Stan, Kyle, and even Cartman: they were all just getting into the sex game. But Kenny, he had been ready to play the game for years, venting through outlets like Playboy and auto-erotic asphyxiation. And now that he was finally old enough, years of preparation meant that he didn't have to fumble his way through like everyone else did.
All you really had to do was follow one simply rule: if it moves, screw it.
"That's...just...wrong," Kyle said. Stan vomited again, and Wendy's eyes narrowed. "Is that really how you think, Kenny?" Kyle asked.
"No!" Kenny yelled. Then he thought about it. "If it has a pussy, screw it."
"So much better," Kyle snorted, rolling his eyes. "Stan, stop throwing up before Wendy starts to get jealous."
So, who would it be today? Eenie meenie minie-
"Hey, Kenny! Whatcha doing walking by yourself?"
Ah, Butters. Kenny walked up to his naive friend. "Oh, I was just thinking."
"Oh. Well, what was it you were thinking about?"
Kenny draped his arms around Butters' shoulders. "Butters, how would you like to be my boyfriend for the day?"
Butters stared at Kenny's arm, not really sure whether to be comforted or afraid. "Gee, Kenny, I don't know. I thought you liked Kyle."
Kenny smiled. "I do like Kyle. I also like Bebe, Heidi, Clyde, Tweek, Mercedes, Stan, Wendy, Craig, Tammy, Fosse, Kip, Lexus, Jimmy, Millie, Token, Nicole, Kevin, Stacey, Scott, Rebecca, Josh, Porsche, and Annie. Oh, and Terrence Mephesto. And I also like you."
"Ignore all that," Kenny said. "Except for Tammy. And Stacey. And-"
"Oh, shut up, you pervert!" Heidi shouted.
"But, Kenny," Butters began, "I think you should probably consider choosing one partner instead of moving from person to person like you do. You get a more stable relationship that way, and-"
"Butters, I'm not looking for relationship advice," Kenny snapped. "I only need to know one thing: are you interested?"
"Well..." Butters thought about it. "I don't really know."
"Well, you're bi-curious, aren't you?"
"I sure am!"
"They did get that right, fellas," Butters pointed out.
Stan pinched the bridge of his nose so hard it left a mark. "Butters...you don't even know what bi-curious means..."
"I do so!" Butters insisted. "It means I'm confused."
"Well, that's definitely true, you guys," Cartman chuckled.
"Haven't you ever experimented with another guy before? You have to try these things out," Kenny explained.
"Is that what it means?" Butters realized. "But then..." He started putting two and two together. "You and me, that one time..." he pointed at Cartman, who suddenly began whistling nonchalantly. "Oh, hamburgers!"
"I probably don't want to hear about this," Kyle grumbled.
"Just remember," Cartman said. "It was my penis in Butters' mouth, so that means I'm not gay!"
"Alright, enough! Everyone just shut up!" Stan yelled.
"I guess I haven't," Butters admitted. "Well, if you think it will be good for me-"
"What could be better?" Kenny asked. "Your place or mine?"
"But-but I've only just agreed to be your boyfriend," Butters babbled. "Don't you think it's a little soon?"
"Butters, I rarely have the time to go through the delicacies of relationships and such," Kenny grumbled impatiently. "When I could get run over by a truck at any moment, I've found that it's best to just get straight to the good part."
"Okay, that's your cue," Kenny said, cocking the gun. "Pay close attention."
"For what?" Kyle asked.
"Now, Kenny," Butters rebuked. "I think that there shouldn't be any of that nasty stuff going on until after you and I have a nice romantic dinner at Bennigan's. We'll go tonight: I'll make reservations. We'll have sweet candlelight, dreamy music, sparkling grape juice, and-"
"Alright, fine," Kenny snapped. "You win!"
"Yippee!" Butters squealed. "I'll meet you there at 8."
"Make it 7," Kenny said as he began walking away. "The sooner we can get through this, the better. And there'd better be real wine, not fucking sparkling grape juice."
"Kenny, you know we're not old enough to be drinking alcohol," Butters reminded him.
"Ugh! This date's going to suck!" Kenny yelled. "After putting up with this, you'd better be really good at being fu-"
WHAM! A truck ran over Kenny, splattering his blood all over the street.
"Oh my God!" Stan yelled. "They killed Kenny!"
"You bastard!" Kyle shouted.
Just then, they heard Kenny's gun go off. Everyone turned to look. Kenny was lying on the ground with a hole in his head, looking very dead and very pissed off.
"Oh my God! Kenny killed himself."
"You bast-hey!" Kyle screamed.
"Kenny! NOOOOO!" Butters screamed, falling to his knees. "How could this happen?"
"Why would Kenny kill himself?" Stan asked.
"He was trying to prove a point."
"Wait," Kyle said. "Who's that?"
"I'm the author."
"Oh," Kyle said. "Wait, what?"
"I'm the person who's writing this story."
"So, that means it's your fault Kenny's dead!" Stan accused.
"That's tough luck, dude."
Butters looked up, and Cartman was there, surveying the scene of the accident. He sat down next to Butters. "Watching someone you love die sure can be cruel."
"Wait, that doesn't sound like Cartman at all!" Stan objected.
"Yeah, what else is new?" Kyle muttered.
"Yeah," Butters sniffed. "I just can't believe he's gone. He was so full of life. We could have had a future together."
"Nah," said Cartman. "You know Kenny; he would have just dumped you as soon as the next pretty blonde boy walked by."
"You have the balls to diss Kenny now that he's dead? Kill yourself," Stan said.
"Don't worry, he'll be back."
"How? He's dead!" Kyle shouted. "There's a hole the size of Cartman's ass in the side of his head!"
"Still, I don't know if I can take it," Butters cried.
"Don't worry: I'll help you cope," Cartman reassured him.
Butters sniffed. "R-really?"
"And you're going to be my bitch."
"What a dick," Kyle said.
"Well, they were bound to get something right," Stan replied. "Hahahaha!"
"Butters, you're missing the big picture here. You need me. You've just lost someone very important in your life, and you need a strong, dominant figure to get you through this. But in return, I want you to be my bitch."
Butters thought about it. "Well, I guess that makes sense."
"I'm glad we had this little talk," Cartman said, patting Butters' head. "Bennigan's is still on. See you at 8, bitch."
"This just keeps getting worse and worse," Stan said. "What is this story even about anymore? You can't say there's supposed to be any kind of legitimate character development going on here when everyone's fucking at the drop of a hat."
"Yeah," Bebe admitted. "I guess you guys are right. This story's just bad."
"It's just mean," Butters whimpered, on the verge of tears.
"Man up, Butters. No one's arguing that it's bad," Kyle said. "But you guys are forgetting something: the story killed Kenny! It's not just that it's bad: it's legitimately harmful. If it's bad enough to make Kenny kill himself, who knows what other damage it could cause?"
Stan agreed. "That's right. All in favor of banning this story?"
Stan and Kyle raised their hands immediately, along with Tweek, Craig, and most of the other fourth graders. Some of the others were a little bit slower about it, like Bebe, Mr. Garrison, and Skeeter. Ned raised his only hand, and even Nurse Goodly nodded to show her approval. Butters was last of all. But at the end, there was one person who refused to cooperate.
Stan and Kyle stared. "Cartman?"
"That's right! You guys are not banning this awesome story!"
"Awesome?" Kyle shouted. "It's just a piece of crap, you piece of crap!"
"Ay! I don't have to take that from a Jew!" Cartman retorted.
"You're such a fatass, Cartman," Kyle yelled, "that when you walk down the street people go 'God damn, that's a big fat ass!'"
A random townsperson walked up. "God damn, that's a big f-"
"God damn it!" Cartman shook his fist at the author. "This joke's already been done, you son of a bitch!"
"Sorry, I couldn't resist."
"You assholes are not going to ruin this story for me," Cartman insisted. "Look at me: I'm awesome and cool in this story. Screwing hos and making everyone my bitch...that's what I do, brah. It's got me down perfectly. But the best part is that it makes all of you guys uncomfortable. But you guys just hate it because you're so immature. It's hella awesome!"
"Stop saying hella, you retard!" Kyle screamed.
"Cry all you want, but you people will respect mah authoritah! We are going to finish this story, and there is no possible way that anyone is going to screw it up!"