Voodoo Witch Doctor

I don't know why Stan hangs out with me. I really don't. I mean; why me? I'm not exactly special, I'm not really funny, or cool, or charismatic. So why? He could hang out with anyone, so why am I his best friend? He really can hang out with anyone. He's funny, athletic, logical, …good looking, and nice. He's also the best Witch out of everyone in the school, and it's not just me who thinks that. Me, Kenny, some of the other guys, and Wendy. Especially Wendy. Thus, he could hang out with anyone.

Maybe we're friends because I'm smart enough to do both his homework and mine, though he's never asked. I'm not a nerd, and I'm not as smart as everyone thinks I am, but I do spend more time in class than with friends, but it's not my fault I have to take three extra classes. Maybe it's because he pities me. Maybe he thinks I don't have many friends… I have friends. I have Stan, and Kenny, and… Ike. Or maybe we're friends because I'm the only Voodoo Witch Doctor in all of South Park.

Everyone at school is jealous. Partially because I get the title of a Voodoo Witch Doctor, partially because I get the perks of being one, but they're wrong. Being a Voodoo Witch Doctor is all work and no fun, at all. It's the reason I have to take three extra classes after school. I have to go to one class learn spells, one to learn potions, and one to learn voodoo. It's a lot of fucking hard work, so it's a good thing I don't have shit brain.

I said I spend more time in classes than with friends; that is 100% true. Everyday I wake up, I go to school, I go to Witch class with Stan, I go to Witch Doctor class with some people in my class, then I'm the only one in Voodoo Witch Doctor. After I go home, do my homework, eat, then go to bed, and the whole cycle starts over. At least on the weekends I get a little time to just hang out with someone.

The life of a Voodoo Witch Doctor is not easy. That's me; Voodoo Witch Doctor Kyle, ready to drop dead from exhaustion, if the mountain of homework I get doesn't bury me first.

I'm not even that good of a Voodoo Witch Doctor. Sure I can make voodoo potions—not that I've actually tried—but that doesn't make me good at my job. I'm certainly not to good of a Witch, or a Witch Doctor as well, and I still have to go to all the classes.

Sometimes I wish I was just a Witch Doctor, or just a Witch, hell, being just a human wouldn't be that bad, but I'm not. Do you know the chances of being born a Voodoo Witch Doctor? I'm part of the 1%. Witch Doctors are 5%, and Witches are 20%. It's kind of weird, though, my mom is a Witch, my dad is a human, and my brother is a Witch, but he's not related to me. Witch + Human = Voodoo Witch Doctor makes no sense to me, but here I am.

And coming from a family where there is no history of even any Witch Doctors at all, my mom decided I should embrace this rare opportunity, and converted our basement into my study. It's become my second bedroom kind of, it's where I do homework and mess with my potion recipes.

What was I talking about? Right, Stan, he's the luckiest guy alive. He only has to go to one after school class, and he's really freaking good at magic. I really, really don't know why I'm his friend. I know why he's mine. That's completely obvious, who doesn't want to be friends with Stan? We've been best friends since preschool, and he's the greatest guy I know. Plus, I kind of… like him.

Who doesn't? Wendy does, or did, or whatever.

What does she know. She might be a Witch Doctor, and she might be good, but she still broke up with Stan. Why would she do that? Because she doesn't think he's good enough for her?

"…Kyle…"

I know it was a year ago, but who does she think she is!

"Kyle."

She thinks she can just do whatever she wants because she's in the student coun—

The end of my teacher's wooden staff crashed down on the edge of my desk shocking me awake, "AHH!" I screamed, sitting up in my chair. "What was that for!"

Mrs. McGilroy squinted down at me, "Pay attention, child." Then she walked back over to the blackboard to continue writing notes on a potion that could turn someone temporarily invisible. She always carried those staffs and wore her weird headdress and wings when she taught me.

I realized then that I hadn't written down today's lesson, I had just scribbled circles in my notebook; my mom is going to be pissed. I quickly copied what she had on the board, then spent the rest of the class watching the clock until it was six and class was over. Eight thirty in the morning until six in the afternoon, I'm at school.

Eventually, the clock ticked six and she let me go, and I walked out of my classroom eager to get home. Who wouldn't be after nine and a half hours? I ran to the front of the school while trying to shove my notebook back into my backpack, and noticed someone leaning against the fence around the front of the school. Once I was closer I saw it was Stan standing against the fence waiting with his bag for something.

"Dude, Stan, what are you still doing here?" I asked, and he turned hearing my voice. "Witch class ended two hours ago."

He got up from leaning on the chain link fence, picked up his backpack, and began walking with me toward my house, "It's Thursday, we always do homework together Thursdays." He said.

I mentally cursed myself, "Right, sorry, I've just been distracted lately." I said. Well, it was the truth.

"I'm not surprised." He said, looking over at me. "Don't worry, though, you'll figure it out."

I looked over at him with an eyebrow raised, "Figure out what?"

He shrugged, then looked up at the clouds in the setting sky, "Eh, whatever it is you've been distracted by."

There's a thing with us having known each other for so long; he can practically read my mind. Luckily, in Witch class they haven't taught us that much yet. Can Witch's read other people's minds? I wouldn't be surprised, if a witch can do it, Stan can do it without even thinking about it. And there was indeed something I had been distracted by recently, let's just hope to Abraham that he's right, and I will figure it out. It's just… recently I've been wondering if I should tell him or not. You know, how I feel about him.

Okay, maybe I should start over.

My name is Kyle Broflovski, I'm a Voodoo Witch Doctor. That's one step above a Witch Doctor, two above a Witch, three above a normal human, though I have to go to human school, and all three classes anyway. I live in South Park, and am the only Voodoo Witch Doctor known to be here besides Chef's mother, Mrs. McGilroy, but she doesn't count because she really lives in Scotland. The only reason she's here is because the only other Voodoo Witch Doctor that ever lived here, Dr. Mophesto, went missing last summer, and they needed one to teach my Voodoo class.

My best friend Stan is one Witch among many here, but he is the best, as I've said before. Kenny, my other friend, and Cartman, my, uh… acquaintance, are both just humans. My brother Ike is a Witch, so is my mom, my dad is a human. People I share my Witch Doctor class include Wendy and a few other students, and among Witch class is Stan, Wendy, and other students. In my Voodoo class I spend the end of the afternoon with Mrs. McGilroy mostly alone.

I was so relieved to finally be able to go home and do homework, and Stan could help we with the spells and what not.

We walked a little while longer in silence until he said, "What'cha thinking about?"

I looked over at him, "So you can't read people's minds." I laughed. "I was imagining what Cartman's fatass would look like splattered all over the pavement." I lied.

He half laughed, "Really? You were honestly thinking about that?" I just nodded. "What did he do this time?"

"During recess he shat in my lunchbox." I said, this I did not make up. "I noticed after we had gone back in and had to throw it away. And my dad packed me left over KFC and an almond cookie."

He looked over at me, I expected him to laugh and tell me 'what did you expect from that fatass?', but he looked more concerned, "Seriously? Dude, Kyle, I swear, tomorrow, I'll paste him one in the playground."

We had made it to my house then, and were walking up the drive to my front door, "What? Why?" I asked. "It's no big deal."

We stopped when we reached the door and continued to talk on the front step, "No big deal?" He asked. "Kyle, he took a shit in your lunchbox! Don't you want to get him back at least a little?"

I just looked at him; god he's perfect. "Yeah, he took a shit in my lunchbox, so what? It's not exactly an act of kindness, but he's done worse." I said, looking away, then I turned back. "What's with you? You never gave a fuck what he did before, why the sudden support?" I asked, then unlocked the door with my key and pushed it open, we both stepped inside. "Seriously, it's no big deal."

We dropped our bags by the door, my mom's voice came from the kitchen, "Hi, Bubbi, how was school?"

"Fine, Mom, Stan's here, we're going to do our homework in the basement." I called, then got my folders and notebooks from my bag and Stan's from his, and we proceeded to the basement.

Since I was carrying our stuff, Stan was supposed to open the door, but he just stood in front of it concentrating. He had his arm slightly extended and was turning his wrist slowly as the doorknob of the basement door turned in unison without him touching it. Eventually it opened, and sliding his first finger in the air it swung open.

Stan turned around to grin at me; "You're getting good at that." I said, and started down the stairs into my study with him behind me.

This isn't Harry Potter, flick a wand and chant a spell kind of magic; Witch's wave their hands and think about what they want to happen, and sometimes it does, sometimes what they want doesn't happen. When we learned new spells in class, it always took me a few tries to get it right because my mind always wandered and I couldn't focus on the spell. Even when I got it right I was shaky; Stan was the opposite. He got everything first try, and after a few minutes of practicing on his own he could do it perfectly.

I dropped our books and worksheets on my potions table, moving my test tube rack and Erlenmeyer flasks out of the way. I turned back to Stan who was getting a look around.

"The plants are knew." He said gesturing to the hanging plants tied to my ceiling.

"My mom got them." I said. "She wants to be sure that when I start making potions I have enough ingredients." I explained, then grabbed a box of strawberries from my miny fridge and walked over to Sammy's cage to feed him.

He was already named when I got him, Dr. Mophesto gave him to me for my last birthday as a test subject when I started making potions. He had made him himself by feeding him Voodoo potions he himself had invented, that's how he got the four extra asses. At first my parents didn't think it was a good idea to have a five assed monkey, but when they found he would probably help me in my Voodoo potions they couldn't refuse. Though now, my mom wouldn't give a second thought at getting rid of him if it weren't for that I could take care of him, and she didn't have to go near him, because for some reason he only liked me. Everyone else if they came too close he'd try to rip out their hair and throw his shit at them.

Later after Stan and I would be done with our homework I have to take him out to get fresh air. Just another one of my many tasks.

Stan had walked over and gotten out his worksheets for Witch class, then had sat back down in his usual beanbag next to mine, "So what are we starting with, Witch or human homework?" He asked.

I unlocked Sammy's cage and pulled him out and let him run around with his toys while I got my stuff and sat next to him, "Witch, you know I do my human homework during class. If I didn't I'd be buried in it."

"Witch it is." He said, pulling out a pencil from his pocket and I read the first thing on the paper aloud.

"In just learning the spells to make things hotter or cooler, do this exercise on your own with parental supervision." I said, and we both scoffed. "Get a single glass of water, room temperature, and set it on a table or flat surface in front of you." I got up to retrieve a glass and some water, and came back to find Stan moving one of Sammy's ball toys with a spell. "Still practicing?" I asked.

"I want to be perfect at the telekinesis spell." He said. "Can't have that Gregory kid one-up me like that last time."

I rolled my eyes as I sat the glass on my potions table, "He's a good kid, just because during class you dropped your paper while demonstrating and he picked it up for you with the spell doesn't make him better than you. There are plenty of kids who are better than him, and no one is better than you."

I sat back down in my chair, "How can you say that?" He asked. "I'm just a Witch, you're a Voodoo Witch Doctor! That immediately puts you on top of everyone!"

I shrugged, "It's just a title, doesn't mean I'm the best, now let's get this over with, I want to get at least five hours of sleep."

"Sure." He picked up the paper to continue reading where I had left off. "Using what you learned in class, first freeze the water with your new spell. After it is frozen completely, use the second spell to boil the water." He said, then put it down. "Sounds simple enough. I'll freeze it, you boil it."

"Sure." I said, because it didn't matter if we were freezing or boiling or shit; I knew I wouldn't be able to do it.

Stan just extended his hand and fingers toward the glass on the table and focused on the water inside, moving his fingers very slowly in waving motions, eventually we heard the crackling sounds of the water freezing, and the whole thing iced over. He put his hand down and we both got up to take a look: the thing was frozen solid.

"Your turn." He said, then smirked. "If you can do it."

I walked back to our seats, "Whatever." I said, he always did this to throw me off even more. "Let's just get this over with."

I extended my arm out now and attempted to focus and imagine the water getting warm, then melting, then hotter and hotter. It didn't look like it was even starting to heat up. I imagined harder, it was so hot the glass was melting. It was too hot to handle! For a split second I glanced over at Stan, because I was trying to think hot, the second I looked back at the glass I lost focus and the thing exploded! We both covered our eyes and faces with our arms and fell back against our beanbags as little pieces of glass flew everywhere. When it was done, I opened my eyes and looked around. Stan and I were untouched, but there was glass everywhere and water splattered on the floor and the table.

Stan was the first to get up while Sammy poked his head out from his hiding place behind his cage unharmed too, "I'll go get us another glass." He said. "Don't break this one." Then he left upstairs.

I fell back down against my beanbag with my hands over my face, "What the hell was that!" I said to myself. "You totally just blew up a glass of water and nearly killed him! Fuck, this is horrible! He probably thinks I'm insane, he hate's me, I know it!" I said, then sat up as he walked back in. "Oh. Hi." I said nonchalantly.

He put the new glass in the place of the other, "Were you just talking to yourself?" He asked.

Shit. "No, but are you alright? You didn't get hit or anything, right?" I asked.

He came back and sat down in his seat again, "No, I'm fine. You want to try freezing it instead?" He asked.

I sighed, "I'd rather not do anything. I'm horrible at magic, you know that. If I try again I might end up killing us."

He sighed too, "You know, when I'm having trouble with a spell, you know what I do?"

I looked over at him, "You? Having trouble with a spell? The Stan Marsh having trouble with a spell? Isn't that against the laws of nature?" I asked. "Don't waste your time on me, some people are good at this stuff, some people aren't."

He just looked at me, "Do you want a bad grade?" He asked, knowing that if I did my mom would probably beat me with a metal bat. "Good at it or not, you're going to have to freeze that glass of water."

I stared at it on the table, "And what if I just can't?"

"Alright," He said, pulling his beanbag closer to mine, "take a deep breath, and try to think about nothing." I did the taking a deep breath part, but the second thing was hard. "Now focus your mind on one thing that's been bothering you, and just let it go. Everything's fine, close your eyes…"

I closed my eyes and I thought about Stan and how I had first figured out I liked him. I mean, I always had, it just took a while to realize it. I thought about all the times after when we hung out and it was hard to stay on topic with my mind wandering about the outcomes of what could happen if I ever told him. Then I thought about what would happen if I told him right now. Then I just let it all go. I just let go of everything, even him, and I began to hear the crackling of the water freezing into ice.

Once the sound had stopped, I opened my eyes to see the water had frozen completely like Stan had done the first time.

"See? It worked." He said, and patted me on the back.

I knew better than to celebrate my 'victory', I knew Stan did this sometimes. He'd get me to close my eyes and take deep breaths or visualize it happening, and while my eyes were closed he'd do it himself so I could think I did it. This is really why I like him so much. And why I can't help but wonder why we're friends.

We did a couple more exercises on the worksheet then got my dad to sign the bottom saying we had done it, and returned to the basement so we could do my potion homework and my voodoo homework. I don't know why they just call them both potion homework, because Voodoo Witch Doctors do the exact same thing as Witch Doctors. They both only make potions, except Witch Doctor potions are fertilizers and hair growth and things to help make the flowers grow, Voodoo potions are for people and the body like turning people invisible or animals into other animals. Voodoo potions are more powerful and deadly. My first lesson in Voodoo class was that for any of the Voodoo potions if you get a single ingredient wrong and you drink it; it will kill you. That's not like the regular potions where if you mess up it just wont work and might give you diarrhea, Voodoo potions either worked, or you were dead.

By the time we were done and had eaten dinner, it was nine, then we had to take Sammy out to give him some air which he enjoyed, then pooped on our lawn. When we got back it was so late that Stan got to sleep over on a school night. We slept up in my bedroom in my bed together like we always had, and Stan was out by ten forty-five while I laid awake staring at my ceiling. Eventually I turned my head to look at him with the light of my digital clock to slightly light up his face. He even slept perfectly. Never stirring, never making a single sound but breathing in and out.

"Hey Stan." I whispered. "You awake?"

He sighed without opening his eyes, "Yeah. You alright?"

"Yeah." I said, turning my head back to face the ceiling. "But, I've been kind of wondering lately… why am I your friend? I mean, you could be friends with anyone, so why me? I'm not special or anything."

He sat up and stared at me, "Not true." He said. Yeah. Really reassuring. "That's what you've been worried about?" I nodded and he laughed. "Then you have nothing to worry about. You're my friend because we've been friends forever, and we always will be." He said, then laid back down. "Now go to sleep, you're always talking about how you can never get enough of it."

That didn't really answer my question, but at the moment I was satisfied enough with the answer that I actually did close my eyes and fell asleep.

I woke up, it was morning, but Stan wasn't beside me. He must have gotten up before me for once. I got up and went down stairs, my mom was in the kitchen making breakfast, my dad was reading the newspaper, and Ike was eating cereal.

"Mom, where's Stan?" I asked casually while sitting in my usual seat at the table.

She turned around, "Oh, he left early. He said he had to meet someone at school, so he took off. I even made pancakes."

He had to meet someone? This didn't settle well in the pit of my stomach, I ran out of the kitchen, grabbed my bag, then dashed out the door, "I'm going to school now!" I yelled back, and continued running until I made it to school.

I had gotten to the chain link fence outside and hid behind a tree in the lot next to the school, then slowly poked my head out to see if I could find Stan. I saw him sitting on a bench with his arm draped over Wendy's shoulders; they were talking.

Their backs were facing me, so I crept out from behind the tree and snuck up to the fence behind them to listen. They were laughing about something.

"…And then the glass exploded!" Stan said, finishing what he had to say.

Wendy laughed, "Why don't you just give up on him, Kyle's pathetic!" She said. "Why don't you just tell him about us…?"

Stan turned to her and smirked, "I want to torture him a little longer, babe."

She gasped still smiling, "He likes you, doesn't he?"

He groaned, "It's so painfully obvious too. But, so long as he thinks I don't know, I can still play him."

"You're so bad, and straight."

I felt like I was falling through the pavement, I was falling to my knees or something, the last thing I heard out of Stan's mouth echoed hollowly in my mind as the world seemed to spin and darken, "He's just a stupid Voodoo."

My eyes flew open and I looked around unsure of what was going on; I was in my bed, in my bedroom. I turned to face my clock; 6:47. I turned to face the other side of me; Stan was laying there still asleep.

Should have seen that coming, I've had that same nightmare every other day for the past week.

I groaned while sitting up, and poked Stan in the shoulder, "Stan? You awake?" I asked. He didn't respond at first so I shook him, "Dude, wake up." His eyes slightly opened and he looked over at me. "Wakie, wakie, eggs and bacie."

He yawned, stretching his body, "What? What's up?" And he looked over at me again just begging for more sleep. "Is someone dying?"

I felt kind of stupid for getting him up now, "I had a nightmare." I blurted out; that's not what I wanted to say. He sat up anyway, looking sort of interested and maybe concerned. "You were with Wendy… you said I was pathetic, and you were just using me."

He made a weird face as he chewed on the information, then eventually spat out, "I don't think that." Then he got up to get dressed.

I raised an eyebrow, then followed him to my dresser, "Well, Stan, it's not that I don't believe you… I just don't find 'I don't think that' very reassuring."

"Are you always this skeptical?" He asked. "When was the last time we had a normal conversation?"

I was a little worried now, "What do you mean?"

He turned around to face me while pulling up a pair of my jeans, "We're friends, why do you talk so formally to me? You're so tense." He smiled. "I get it! That's your weakness! You can't concentrate on spells because you're trying to hard. When was the last time you actually took a break from school and work?"

I went back to raising an eyebrow, "Does walking Sammy count?"

"No." I frowned. "Seriously, Ky, you need a vacation; you're over worked."

I put on my own clothes, "Wow, really?" I said sarcastically. "You know what my mom would do if I took a break."

"Kyle! Stan!" My dad called from downstairs. "Breakfast!"

We ran down without another word, and to my displeasure; there were no pancakes like there were in my nightmare. Stan and I sat at the kitchen table with Ike and my dad in silence, eating our cold cereal before had to get our stuff and leave. Thank god it was Friday, maybe I should take a vacation over the weekend. A few days rest is really what I need, why can't summer come faster? At least then I wouldn't be cooped up in the basement all day.

We walked to school in silence too, and I wasn't all that surprised. I was on edge recently, Stan probably thinks I'm angry with him. God I'm such an idiot! I hope nine hours goes by fast.

We were nearly late, so we didn't have time to talk to anyone on our way in, which was good, because I didn't want to risk him seeing Wendy and my nightmare coming true. We had to sit through every boring lecture with our human teacher, Mr. Garrison, then get quizzed on our freezing/boiling spell in Witch class with Wendy's mom. I didn't blow up the glass in class like I did at home, but also barely made steam, so I failed. Normally I'd get a C for trying, but I was trying to freeze the water that time. So much for getting a good grade.

After, Stan left, and so did most of the other kids, and I was stuck with Damien as my partner for Witch Doctor class with Craig's dad, who never teaches us shit. Our lesson was a potion that made your eyesight turn completely red tinted for a few minutes. The main ingredient was mango skin, and Damien poured some into my water bottle to see if it worked. I had an allergic reaction and went into Anaphylactic shock. Mr. Tucker had no idea what to do, so I had to get my Epipen out of my bag myself and inject it in my leg.

Unfortunately I was well enough to still go to Voodoo class after spending the rest of Witch Doctor class in the nurses office. Damn Epinephrine works to well.

Mrs. McGilroy started class like she always did, chanting something as I walked in the door and took my seat, then waving around her staffs. She already had on her wings and headdress, only one more hour, Kyle, you can survive. I really thought after that incident with the mango skins I'd be off the hook. Now my mom was going to yell at me when I get home about not being careful. Cartman was right; she is a bitch.

I got out my notebook and my pen, and droned off picking the edge of my paper while Mrs. McGilroy wrote the lesson. Only fifty-nine more minutes, Kyle, then it's the weekend.

I don't really care about Voodoo, or lessons, or potions. So far, there has not been a single one that has ever caught my eye or has been of much interest. Why can't I just skip? What's being a Voodoo good for anyway? I get to turn invisible for five minutes; big whoop. There is no way this lesson is even important.

"All right, nah, we begin today's lesson!" She said, waving the staff in her left hand, then picked up her chalk and wrote on the board while I continued to not care.

Eventually she finished writing the name of the lesson and put the chalk down so I would look up. I did. I take it all back.

"Today we learn to make a love potion."

Yes, some people are allergic to mango skin, my friend's dad is. This does not mean they are allergic to mangoes though.