Hello, South Park! Yes, Mayflower again with another useless one-shot - hooray! (Oh, quit your whining, it'll be buried in no time.) Anyway, don't know what it is with me and drabble lately, but after a long debate about how this one turned out, I'm finally throwing it up on the web. Hope you guys enjoy!
LAWYERBOT SAYS: "I hate defending South Park."
South Park, both the show and its inhabitants, (c) Comedy Central
Comedy Central (c) Trey Parker and Matt Stone
All characters and events in this fanfiction, even those based on real people, are entirely fictional.
The following story contains coarse language, and due to its content, should not be read by anybody.
Oh, Hell - sometimes I miss you when I'm stuck dealing with bullshit back up in South Park. After growing up in my hectic, drunken household, there's something kind of soothing about the screams of the damned ringing through every drippy cavern, and a drafty bedroom in the middle of Colorado makes you appreciate the warmth of the raging flames.
What can I say? Home away from home.
Still, I never end up here without a reason. I don't know why, but unless God or Satan WANTS me or NEEDS me for something, I go straight back to my room after Cartman does something stupid that ends with my guts spilled out all over the road. ("Come on, Kinny, you c'n make it 'cross the street on a green light - I'll pay ya twenty bucks if ya make it!" Stupid fuckin' Mom buying booze before she bought food this week.)
So, of course, when my old friend Death says he can't take me back for a few hours, I decide to take a walk and see what kind of madness I'm "destined" to prevent or whatever bullshit I've gotten dragged into now.
xxxxx
"Kenny?"
I had been walking on the same crumbling strip of...well, whatever the ground in Hell was made of (a sinking feeling in my stomach was leaning towards human remains) for so long, I jumped out of a daze when I heard my name. Looking up, I saw the big man himself up on a balcony - staring up at the world up above, daydreaming about the real world, as usual.
"What up, Satan?" I waved. (Yeah, I just said that - weirded me out at first, too.)
He simply waved me up, so I made my way inside the Royal Castle of Darkness until I joined him on the high-up outcropping. "What brings you here, Kenny?" he asked.
"Five car pile-up at a busy intersection," I answered calmly.
"I should've seen that coming by now. Bet?"
"Twenty bucks. I wanted to bring some dinner home for me and my sister."
"So you killed yourself for it."
"If it weren't the eighth time this week, I'd care more."
Satan looked up again, and a weird silence fell between us. (Y'know, ignoring the sounds of fire and eternal torment in the background.) He's actually a really pensive dude, always thinking about stuff and being real emotional and shit. It didn't take long after that mess with Saddam Hussein to learn that Satan actually isn't that bad of a dude. (Hey, he forgave me for blowing his chances at taking over the earth, right? He didn't even get mad when he realized I made this "huge sacrifice for South Park" knowing that I'd reincarnate the next day.)
"You thinkin' about something, Satan?" I had to ask.
"A little," he sighed. "Hearing about you and your parents always makes me think about my boy. I haven't seen him in ages - he likes it up there too much to come visit his old man, I guess."
Right, Damien. That jackass who turned me into a platypus back in the third grade. Sure, he was still around, but for the most part, we kept our distance - I had Stan, Kyle, and Cartman, he had Pip. I always forget he's got the coolest dad ever.
"He's doing alright," I said, trying to reassure Satan (...I guess?). "He hasn't sworn death and destruction or turned me into a platypus anymore...But I'm sure he'll get his act together eventually!" I added in quick at the end, assuming that Satan would want his one and only son to be the Prince of Darkness.
"Yeah, he'll grow out of that Prince of Darkness phase."
God, I can never wrap my mind around Satan. "Wait, you DON'T want him to be a Prince of Darkness?"
"I want him to be his own person, you know? I feel like there's too much pressure on him to take over the family business. I don't see Damien, I see what everyone's EXPECTING him to be."
"Huh. I never thought of it that way before. Guess it kind of makes sense if you think about it."
"He didn't have a normal childhood, you know?" Satan continued, resting his head in his hand. (Wait, was I playing therapist with Satan?) "He grew up down here, feasting on souls of the damned and torturing the unworthy - he should've been up there, playing with other kids. You know what I'm talking about - growing up in a family like yours."
I scoffed. "Yeah, nothing says 'normal childhood' like drunk parents beating you with booze bottles while you literally kill yourself three times a day, trying to make a life for your little sister. I'd take having a gay dad and growing up in the underworld over that any day."
"But you know who you are. You have friends who care about you, and you know that you like helping people." He paused to laugh. "Even if you have to do it in your underwear."
"Back off, my costume's the shit." It wasn't - hell, I knew it was pathetic - but still, Mysterion was mine, and I hated people picking on it. "Besides, that's a shitty comparison, I'm the worst superhero ever. ...Okay, wait, take that back - second-worst, I'm still better than Cartman."
"Don't worry about him - he's ALREADY on my list."
"You say that like the fat fuck's gonna die anytime soon."
"True..."
There was another silence after a bit of laughing, and out of nowhere, I felt my hood getting tugged off of my head. (No idea why I was wearing the damn thing in the first place, though - come on, this place was as hot as...well, Hell.)
"I think you're just being too hard on yourself," Satan said with a smile. (Yeah, I'll let you have a second for that one to sink in.) "Your parents are probably proud of you under all of that cheap beer - I would be if Damien were half the kid you are."
"You say that like you're trying to adopt me," I laughed, ruffling the hood-look out of my hair.
"I would if I could."
"...Wait, what?"
"Well, I-I mean, you're here all of the time anyway!" Satan stammered, attempting to make a quick recovery. "Hell's practically your second home by now, right? And, I mean, we've really been getting to know each other ever since you helped me out with Saddam, and-"
"Are you trying to adopt me or do me?" I had to ask. "'Cause if you're asking for a date, the answer is DEFINITELY no."
Satan playfully ruffled up my hair with his claws. (How he doesn't take my head off when his hands are bigger than my body, I have no idea.) "You can't stop thinking dirty for two seconds, can you?"
"To be fair, I'm here - doesn't this place PROMOTE unholy thoughts?"
"It does, but you're talking pedophilia, which is very much a matter of the Catholic church."
Shut up, I'm Catholic - I can laugh at that.
All joking aside, Satan went back to the topic at hand once we stopped laughing. "Seriously, though: I miss being a dad, and you miss having a family. I would love to have you around a little more permanently than stuck in layover for a few hours every once in a while."
Now I was the one looking up at that hole in the ceiling. Even with this godly power of immortality, I had never considered anything other than growing up in South Park. But yeah, running away to Hell was an option, wasn't it? I think I would make a pretty killer Prince of Darkness. I mean, I'm used to it down here - I actually kind of LIKE it, to be honest. It would get me away from my parents and I wouldn't have to worry about dying every other day.
And let's be real for a second - I would get all of those slutty bitches in the Lust level all to myself. The world's largest collection of whores, and they would be all mine.
...But then again, I'd have to leave a lot behind, too. I mean, I can't just give up beating the shit out of Cartman. Who's going to stop the Coon from spreading mass dickishness across the planet if Mysterion hangs up the hood? No more hanging out with Stan, no more picking on Kyle and Butters...did I mention no more beating up Cartman?
Then there's Karen. I mean, I've always said that my family could fuckin' burn in Hell, and I fuckin' meant it, but...I don't know if I could do that to Karen. She's still just a baby, she has so much potential. If Mom and Dad go back to taking care of her, she's just going to end up a sack of nothing like Kevin.
Augh, fuckin' vigilantism. Why do I always want to do the right thing instead of the smart thing?
Luckily, before I got pressured into giving an answer, Death showed up down below. (Yeah, I know, thank God for Death - you should be used to these kind of weird things spewing out of my mouth by now.) "Alright, Kenny, let's go..." he rasped, beckoning me over.
"Well, that's my ride," I answered instead, getting to my feet and going to pull my hood back up.
Before I could, though, Satan got one last shot at ruffling my hair. "Be careful up there, okay?"
I smiled back, right before pulling my hood over my face, the way I usually wear it. "No promises."
"Like I should expect."
"Come on, claiming me for a son, and you don't know me that well?"
"I'll brush up for next time I see you."
"Which'll be sometime tomorrow?"
"I'll schedule you in for a few hours from now."
"Yeah, that sounds about right - I have to go get my twenty bucks from Cartman, so expect one of us down here."
xxxxx
The next day, all was right in the world again. I met up with the boys, who greeted me with a simple "Hey, Kenny", just like they always do. Absolutely no recollection of watching their best friend be torn to shreds and smeared across the street by hot, ripped metal moving at sixty-plus miles per hour, just "oh, hey, Kenny".
Those bastards.
Today, though, was a little different. We passed by Damien (who was strangely without Pip today, which only made me wonder what he did to the little Brit this time), and while you can blame the inner vigilante ('cause I know I did), for one reason or another, I stopped.
"Hey, guys, I forgot something at my house," I lied. "Go on without me, okay? I'll catch up."
Since Cartman and Kyle were too busy shrieking at each other to notice, Stan gave me a nod and a wave to signify that he heard, and the three kept walking.
Once they were far enough away to not notice me (though I always get the feeling that they don't even when I'm standing right next to them), I ran across the street to where Damien was chilling out.
"Someone's being brave today," he sneered. "That accident yesterday not teach you to look both ways?"
Y'know, that kind of fuckin' figures - out of everyone in South Park, who remembers when I die? Little Prince of Darkness. "Meh, I've had worse," I shrugged.
"What do you want, anyway?" he asked, cocking a scraggily eyebrow.
"I'm not gonna pick on you, if that's what you're waiting for, so relax."
"Well, what else would you come over here for?"
"I saw your dad yesterday."
"Oh?"
"He misses you - you should go visit him more often."
Damien scoffed. "Why? I can reign death and destruction all I want up here, I don't need to be down there. Let Dad get along with his new boyfriend, what do I care?"
"Well, he's worried about you. You're kind of on your own out here."
"I am the Prince of Darkness!" he hissed. "I can take care of myself! How DARE you accuse me of-?"
"Dude, shut up, you're not scaring anyone," I interrupted. "Prince of Darkness or not, he's your dad, and he's actually a pretty good one, at least compared to the shitty one I got."
"So says the immortal. Why don't you have an attitude problem? Isn't dealing with the mortals below you?"
"First off, I have an attitude, so fuck you," I pointed out with a laugh. "Second, it's because I'm not an asshole. Yeah, I could waste shit, yeah, I'm a superhero - the difference between us is that I don't fuckin' care, and you're trying too fuckin' hard. Maybe trying to have some friends and giving two fucks about your dad would help you realize that."
He only answered me with crossed arms and a pout - clearly, this wasn't going anywhere. So, spying a ball in the yard we were hanging out in (I guessed it was Damien's or Pip's - I had no idea where either of them actually lived), I decided on a new approach. I got up, grabbed the ball, and tossed it into Damien's lap.
"What the fuck are you up to?" Damien growled suspiciously.
"Catch," I shrugged. "You know how to play, right?"
The Prince of Darkness looked at the ball strangely for a moment, then stood up and tossed it back to me. After a few back-and-forths, though, the suspicion returned. "Alright, immortal, what's your game?"
"I told you, catch," I repeated. "We're playing - act like a kid for once in your life, would ya?"
"But I don't get it."
"Don't drop the ball, what's not to get?"
"No - why are we playing together?"
Out of all of the ridiculous shit I've said over the course of this little mishap, this had to take the cake, but in a weird way, I really meant it - and looking at Damien's face after I said it and we continued our game, it meant something to him, too:
"Hey, that's what brothers are for, right?"
What a twist! Yeah, no idea why this idea came to mind at three in the morning, but hey - not bad for a one-shot. Kenny's my favorite character to write for, what can I say? Anyway, thanks for reading, guys! Hope you enjoyed!
§ Tucker's Mayflower, signing off! §