Disclaimer: All places and characters referenced to the television show South Park are property of Trey Parker and Matt Stone.
"It's gonna be cold one out there today, Tom," a temperature radar map appeared on the screen, "-15°F is our expected high today with wind chills bringing the temperature down to a bitter -30°F… South Park and much of the surrounding area is under a NOAA-issued wind chill warning until around noon tomorrow – at this point. The weather moving in with this cold front is going to be quite a shock, considering temps have been in the mid 40s for the past couple days. Temperatures this low can be very dangerous very quickly without the proper protection… We recommend people stay inside and warm but if you have to go outside, remember to bundle up!"
Knock, Knock, Knock.
"Butters!" Mr. Stotch called to his son, "Get the door, please."
"Alright, dad!" Butters hurried out of his room and past his parents' – the morning news was still on – downstairs to the door.
"Hey, Butters!" A small group of kids carrying ice skates and hockey sticks greeted him as he opened the door: Stan, Kyle, and Kenny.
"H-hey, fellas!" He responded cheerfully.
"You want to come play ice hockey with us?" Stan asked.
"You – you want me to p-play with you guys?" Butters stammered, almost confused.
"Yeah, dude. We need a fourth so we can play 2 v 2," Kyle held out a spare pair of ice skates and a hockey stick.
"What about E-Eric? Isn't he usually your fourth?"
"He just thinks he's our fourth. Most of the time it's just that we can't get him to stop following us," Kyle laughed.
"Yeah! And his fat ass would probably break through the ice even though it's like 5 feet thick – I bet!" Kenny laughed even harder.
"We'd rather play with you," Stan smiled.
"I don't know, guys…" Butters fidgeted his hands.
"It's okay if you don't know how to skate or something, Butters. We won't make fun of you – too much!" Kenny said as the boys snickered.
"I can skate!" Butters immediately defended himself, "I just need to ask my dad… Come inside and stay warm, I'll go ask." He yielded the door and made his way back upstairs.
The three boys closed the door behind themselves and took a seat on the couch.
"Hey, dad…?"
"Yes, Butters?"
"That was some of my friends at the door and t-they were wondering if I could play with them for a while, please…?
Mr. Stotch looked at his wife, she nodded.
"Alright, son. I guess it is pretty early… You can always do your chores when you get back. Just don't stay out too long."
"Alright! Thanks, mom! Thanks, dad! I'll be back soon," Butters ran back downstairs. "I can play!" He smiled as he approached.
"Alright! – Cool! – Nice!" The three responded in unison.
"Let's go then," Stan led the group to the door.
It was a fairly short walk to Stark's Pond.
"Alright," Kyle began as he dropped his skates and stick near the pile of everyone else's, "How are we going to do this?"
"Well… We should probably pick teams first," Stan suggested, "Kyle and I can be a team and you and Butters can be a team," he looked a Kenny.
"Alright – Okay," they spoke together.
"We can set up two makeshift goals with like some rocks or sticks or something around here," he continued, "And we could do something like one on the field with one person being goalkeeper for each team and we can switch every point or something? First to 10 points wins?"
"Sounds good," Kyle agreed, "I'll be goalie first."
"Me too," Kenny said.
"Looks like it'll be me and Butters playing against each other first, then. We can switch after the first goal and rotate around or something so we can all play goalie and against each other sometime."
Everyone nodded.
"Let's find some stuff to make a goal first."
The group walked around the lake for a few minutes picking up a couple of large rocks and a few thicker branches on the ground and proceeded to set up a sort of makeshift box goal on either end of the pond.
"Looks good!" Butters said as he finished lacing his stakes and grabbed a stick.
"Are we ready, then?" Stan asked as he stood up as well.
"Yep," Kenny started moving toward his goal.
"Yeah," Kyle moved to his.
"Kay. Let's go, Butters," Stan picked up the group's lone hockey puck and the two moved to the center of the pond.
"Ready?" Stan dropped the puck on the ice.
"Yeah!" Butters positioned himself.
"On three… One… Two… Three!"
After a short fight for the puck, Butters emerged in control and quickly skated toward Kyle and his goal. Stan tried hard to regain control but Butters had the competitive advantage from stealing the puck initially. He positioned himself to Kyle's right and took a shot, scoring less than a minute into the game.
"Alright, Butters!" Kenny cheered.
Stan and Kyle looked at each other, dumbfounded.
"Zero – One… Okay… I guess it Kenny and Kyle's turn now…," Stan and Butters traded sticks with their goal keepers.
This rotation continued every time someone scored for about the next hour or so.
"Eight to Nine… Your lead…," Stan gritted his teeth as he faced off against Butters, obviously frustrated at possibility of losing to him.
"Ready?"
"Yep," Butters steeled himself to score the final point.
"One… Two… Three!"
This possession started off very similarly to the first. Butters reached in and took initial control of the puck and closed in on the goal. Kyle readied himself to block the shot. As Stan got close to Butters, he tried something different this time… Instead of attempting to steal the puck, he raised his stick with both hands and shoved Butters to the side. He lost his balance and hit the ground, hard. Stan took control of the puck and quickly scored through a stunned Kenny.
"Butters!" Kenny rushed over to the boy, still on the ground.
"What the heck was that, Stan?!" Kyle almost sounded pissed as he skated over to the boy.
"I – I…," it was almost like he had just realized what he had done. Stan moved to check on the boy as well.
"Are you okay?" Kenny asked he knelt beside him.
Butters sniffled as he cradled his right arm.
"Is it broken? Can you move it?" Kyle prompted.
Butters extended, flexed, pronated, and supinated his arm.
"It doesn't look broken… Let me see it?" Kyle extended his arm and Butters gave him his.
He gently rolled up the boy's sleeve. A large spot on his arm was black and blue.
"Butters…," Stan knelt beside him and the other boys, "I'm sorry. I got carried away… I couldn't stand losing to you and Kenny, I was being a sore sport… Are you okay?"
"Yeah… I think so…," Butters wiped his eyes.
Stan hugged the boy and put an arm around his shoulder.
"You and Kenny are just better at hockey than Kyle and I am," he chuckled.
"Well… The game is actually tied now… Nine – nine," Kenny commented.
"Game point!" Butters positioned himself to stand up.
"You should really go home and put some ice on that arm, Butters. And we've been out here in this freezing cold for quite a while – we're going to get frostbite pretty soon," Kyle stood up and helped Butters to his feet.
"Since when are you a doctor, Kyle?" Stan laughed.
"Contrary to popular belief some of us do actually pay attention in health class, Stan," Kyle teased.
"I'll be fine for one more point," Butters positioned himself in the middle of the pond. "I want a rematch, Stan!"
"One more?" Stan asked the two other boys.
"One more." Both Kyle and Kenny replied.
"Alright," Stan moved into position, "I won't play dirty this time… You ready?"
"Ready!" Butters almost yelled.
"One… Two… Game point!"
After an initial back-and-forth for control of the puck, Butters emerged victorious. He skated as fast as he could toward his opponent's goal. As he neared he lined up a shot and, with all his might, he pulled the stick over his shoulder and swung as hard as he could, following through with swing.
The puck sailed right past Kyle, scoring the game-winning point.
"Alright!" Butters cheered, oblivious to what had just happened.
"Stan!" Kyle yelled as he dropped his stick and rushed to where the boys were.
Butters was confused until he looked down at his stick, the edge of the blade was covered in blood. Stan lie motionless near his feet. Blood oozed out of a sickening gash on his forehead and onto the ice.
"Oh my gosh!" Butters dropped his stick, horrified.
"Stan! Stan!" Kyle carefully turned the injured boy onto his back.
"What happened?!" Kenny quickly approached, "Oh my god!" He gasped.
"Stan, can you hear me?" Kyle nearly begged for a response.
"He's unconscious," Kenny gently shook the boy as Butters stood by, paralyzed in fear of what he had done.
"We need to get him to the hos -," Kyle was interrupted by a loud popping noise.
"What the hell was that?!" Kenny looked around.
Kyle looked down at the piece of the lake all four boys were on as he came to a horrifying realization. Small cracks were rapidly spidering through the ice. "The ice is breaking!"