"The name is Terrance. I am a God amongst boys, and you will give me my due respect!"

Like all of his experiments, the young Mephisto had managed to astonish with his brilliant ability to play God. He had also failed spectacularly, and the dead hybrid alligator-chicken had lived a brief but painful existence before succumbing to the will of nature herself.

But Terrance didn't think that cause for one of his so-called friends, the thug and petulant snot-nosed miscreant that he was, to not show him respect. Fuckin' Fosse.

"I didn't mean nothing by it, Terrance. I just called ya 'Terry'." The taller idiot responded to his superior's anger with, to the shock of all, more idiocy.

"Terry is a pet name, a nick name, a perversion of my proper name! You shall-"

"Move it already! You're holding up the line!" Some random fat third grader barked from behind Terrance, Bill, and Fosse.

Of course it had to be lunch when his so-called friends decided to piss Terrance off, sending his already irregular thought patterns askew. He wanted to turn that fat kid into a squirrel, but not even he could bend the rules of nature yet. He had already shown that- his hybrid had died mere moments before he had gone to school. One day he would, and when he did, it was squirrel time for that random fat kid. Despite all that, they moved up the line and into the serving area. Their old chef had been some African-American imbecile who was nonetheless popular with the plebeians that infested the school like plague rats. Their new chef was a boring, non-speaking woman who did her insignificant job with an insignificant presence in their lives. It was proper.

"All I'm saying Terrance is that kid Kyle was able to cross-breed, and-" Bill began before Terrance spun around with the velocity of a bullet out of a rifle. He shot Bill a fiery, piercing gaze that seemingly sliced through his skull with a white hot intensity.

"KYLE BROFLOVSKI IS A SHAM ARTIST! HE DID NOTHING! I AM BETTER THAN HE!" Terrance yelled as he slammed his balled fists down on the metal around him several times, his frustrations with that ginger-haired Jewish faux scientist having been a thorn in his side for years. Sure, Terrance had been advanced to the fifth grade, which was a tacit if not complete admission of his intellectual prowess. But that was not enough- he wanted an admission from Kyle himself. That scientific sham of a progressive, that waste of potential, he needed to admit that Terrance was indeed the smartest. Better than he. The best there was and would be. The line continued moving, the boys taking their plastic trays, though he had no real interest in whatever passed for food on this Friday.

"Calm down. Besides, they're all gay." Fosse said in a useless attempt to redirect anger.

"Totally gay." Responded Bill, and the two started giggling like lunatics. Imbeciles!

Terrance continued tapping the metal, paying no heed to the giggling madmen that passed as his friends. He allowed the black thoughts to once again infest every synapse and induce their own individual violent chemical reactions. Such disrepect by the populace on the whole was to be expected, but from his friends? Bah! Kyle's friends certainly respected him where he deserved it, as much as those fools thought he might, whatever wool he had pulled over them all being an effective blindfold to reality. His family loved him and gave him what support he needed, even though as time passed they should have become more and more aware of the baseless nature of their son's so-called intelligence. Terrance had none of that- he had access to a brilliant scientist and his lab, but that was a cold comfort when confronted by the warmness that such solid bonds give off. It would have brought Terrance to tears had it not brought him to the brink of unchained rage first. The line continued and soon they were receiving what passed for food in the American public school system.

"Terrance, ya seem mighty-" Bill began before Terrance, his mind lagging with fury, cut him off as they walked out into the cafeteria.

"All he did was get two animals to mate, Bill. He did nothing that proper conditioning could not have done. He is not a scientist- he is a freak! I am attempting to build from base genetics a new, viable creature. I am not breeding a mutant race of pig-sized elephants that live for a few days before expiring due to nature's laws. I am going to create species that spit in the face of nature and mock her dreary legislation against science, to shatter the censure that their so-called 'God' has put on our mind. Kyle could never even fathom the complex science behind such a crusade. Indeed, I doubt he could even grasp the basic desire for man to transcend his place as servant and worshiper to master and God of this planet! This would not vex me so, but alas, he has managed to fool these simple folk- they now believe he is the one whose intellectual abilities are to be lauded. Lunacy! Heresy! I demand an admission of his inferiority, lest we allow such injustice to continue!" Terrance rambled on, his righteous fury taking him to heights that his friends were unable to scale with him. He could see this saddening fact in their eyes as he turned to them- they were lost. He sighed as they sat down.

"I just want him to admit I'm better than him." He said simply, his eyes darting around to find that fourth-grade messiah of intellect, that deceiving and facetious mongrel who had eliminated from the collective memory the respect due to Terrance thanks to his aforementioned deceptive nature. He soon found him and his group of friends. As idiots could always be found doing, they were them was almost as interesting as studying the rage-infested monkeys that Alphonse kept locked up in the basement, though for different reasons. The human animal was a social one, yet the rules changed almost hypocritically in each case. Stan Marsh was one case of many that supported the theory that man was getting less able to distinguish true worth from what amounted to human parasitical tendencies. More intelligence than the others, though he was of little note beyond being better than a single-cell organism. Yet he suckled on the collective teat of mankind's true global opiate, sports, and this mass of wasted flesh and brain tissue found himself popular based on the laughable outcomes of wasteful and useless athletics. He was, in truth, a parasite to those close to him. This attention, this praise, would manifest themselves in his family as either hate(as Terrance was well-aware Shelley felt towards her brother) or a doting sort of over-protection, that he was sure Sharon could lay a harsh claim to. In school his actions would be blown out of proportion- indeed, his success in sports would make him a hero when in reality he was no better for the species than a friendly pet cat. To his friends, he would be the unwitting soul and center, towards which subconsciously the others would compare themselves to. Unable to compete with the attention that their friend Stan would receive as long as he did well in sports, they would either come to resent their friend or resent their own failures. Stan Marsh would suck the life out of friends and family alike, as a parasite feeds off of nutrients found in the human body. He was also close, good friends with the object of Terrance's hatred, who himself seemed unable to be made to see the superiority of science over nature.

"Science over nature..." Terrance trailed off, his thoughts that were once jumbled coagulating into a coherent stream of conscious thought. Schemes and plans came to life.

"Bill, what do you know of Kyle's friend, Stan Marsh? What of Kyle's family?" Terrance asked in a hurry, his eyes now alight.

"Uhh...well, Stan's a football player and they're best friends." Bill said.

"So gay." Fosse responded.

"Totally gay." and the giggling began.

"But is he really attracted towards Kyle that way?" Terrance asked, genuinely curious. He was curious about anything that may impact his planning.

"Umm, I don't think so." Bill responded.

"Good. Good. I need you two to look up Kyle's family. I need to go home and get to work." Terrance said as he stood up, ready to leave the drudgery of the cafeteria behind. He had work to do.

"What are you doing, Terrance?" Fosse asked, his dead eyes a perfect match for his dull personality.

"SCIENCE!"