Disclaimer: Look. I'm going to be dead serious with you. I don't own South Park. Never will.
Chapter 1: Factory of Dreams
My mouth gaped open, hardly believing what I saw towering above me. "Fucking Fatass did it guys." Turning to face Stan and Kenny, my best friends in the world; I blinked rapidly at them. I honestly thought this was a dream. Maybe even a nightmare.
After all, it was Cartman who jacked the place. Who knows what laid in wait for us in there? Rabid monkeys, starved for days, which wanted to eat our flesh? I wouldn't put it past him. Seriously, he did shit like this all the time. But this? This was just insane.
How could one man manage to sneak past all the security and wipe out everyone inside? I think he said he was hiding them somewhere, so we only had the place for a day, but still, better than nothing. Not that I trusted him or anything.
I was still cautious when coming here though; almost burning the invitation the second Mom brought it up to my room.
"Yep. Wow." Was all Kenny said as he stared up at the factory in awe.
Stan? Well, he was utterly speechless. Not that I blamed him for it. I almost couldn't say anything either. Well, at least until the Fatass came and unlocked the gates for us. Or, almost did.
"Well, well. Look what we have here. A Jew, a fag, and a whore." He said, pacing the gates slowly, examining each one of us with his eyes. A look that made me feel like gagging. "Hey Kahl, don't you agree that, since I own this place, that I should keep out things that risk contaminating my precious chocolate?"
Glaring at him, I punched a metal bar weakly, fearing I'd hurt myself, but hard enough to get my point across. "Look Fatass. It isn't yours. Besides, what's a host doing sending out invitations if he isn't going to pay up in the end? Let us in."
"Ohoho, I sent you invitations? Must have been my receptionist, Shelly. She usually sends out invitations just so I can turn them down when they arrive and I tell them they were fake. Funny, huh?"
The fat bastard laughed mockingly at us, smirking deviously as he pushed the key through the hole, twisting it; so. Very. Slowly. It was agonizing. "But, since I'm a nice, honorable guy, I'm going to let you three in for the day. Don't forget to thank me."
I was going to comment on how much of a discriminating bastard he was, and how he should just burn in a pit of flames for an eternity; but I wasn't that much of an idiot as to blow our chances of getting into the Factory of our dreams.
I care for Kenny and Stan; how could I do that to the both of them? What kind of best friend I would be.