A friend of mine linked me a Twitch video of some guy name Supatease raging at his team while playing World of Warcraft, so I was inspired by that for this fic. Enjoy.

Ten-year-old Leopold "Butters" Stotch grew increasingly frustrated with every hour he played World of Warcraft during the Friday night. Originally, after dinner was finished, he started off by playing some 3v3 arenas with Eric Cartman on his mage, and Kenny McCormick on his hunter, and Butters volunteered to heal for the two on his paladin character. Unfortunately, for the next two hours, the three of them went on an eleven-loss streak, and by the end of the eleventh game, Eric was already on a breakdown.

"Okay, Butters, you need to frickin' heal me!" Eric shouted through the Discord chat. "Why weren't you healing me?"

"I-I-Isaac Dimmons kicked me with W-Wind Shear, a-and Cole Dimmons followed up with Cyclone, then Jenna did a Fear!" Butters stammered, remembering how his Flash of Light cast was interrupted by the enemy shaman within milliseconds. "T-they're probably kickbotting-"

"No, Isaac was not kickbotting you black asshole!" Eric yelled back. "You're just a shitty healer! You waste your trinket on the first fucking Shadowfury!"

"Sorry, Butters," Kenny apologized through the chat. "But I gotta agree with Cartman on this one, you do kinda suck."

"But Kenny, you - you just let Jenna Stoley freecast Incinerates and Chaos Bolt on you without using that one button with the four whirling swords," Butters tried, not knowing he was referring to the spell called Deterrence.

"Oh, so now you're blaming Kenny for your own shortcomings, huh?!" Eric retorted. "Butters, you are the worst! Kenny, we should kick Butters and invite Token, he's a way better healer, plus he plays discipline priest-"

"Fellas, please, just give me another chance!" Butters cried.

But Butters saw on the computer screen that by the time he could try to formulate some arguments against his removal from the group, he had already been removed from the group and from the Discord chat. The next hour, Butters ended up playing with Stan on his warrior and Kyle on his shaman. They played six games and lost all six of them. Currently, they are in the starting room of their seventh game, fighting a team consisting of a paladin, priest, and a shaman healer.

"Ret, shadow, and resto shaman," Kyle said. "That's what we're up against."

"Oh, great," Stan groaned through the Discord chat. "It's Preston Marlowe, Tyler Hoffman, and Ivan Taylor. Those fucking assholes."

"Okay, Butters, this time you need to not get feared by the enemy priest, got it?" Kyle warned. "And actually heal me so I can do good DPS."

"Alright, but you have to not go so far deep, you're not melee Kyle," Butters point.

"Come on, Butters, I'm a mail-wearer, and I have a shield, so I'll be fine," Kyle replied.

Of course though, it wouldn't be so easy. The end result is that Stan and Kyle simply tried to do DPS, but were uncoordinated. In other words, Preston, the enemy paladin, opened up with Repentance on Butters, and Butters immediately broke it with a PvP trinket. Ivan killed Kyle's tremor totem with Flame Shock. Stan charged to Ivan and activated both Bloodrage and Bladestorm, but Tyler disarmed Stan with Psychic Horror, while also walking next to Kyle to inflict fear with Psychic Scream. Stan and Kyle neglected to use their own PvP trinkets, thinking Butters could tank it - he is a paladin after all, right? But then Preston stunned Butters with Hammer of Justice. What happened next was that Preston popped Avenging Wrath while Tyler weaved Vampiric Touch, Shadow Word: Pain, Devouring Plague, and Shadowfiend onto Butters while both he and Ivan removed all of his buffs with Dispel Magic and Purge respectively. Ivan, in turn, turned Stan into a frog with Hex, and when Kyle tried to heal butters, Ivan interrupted Kyle with Wind Shear. Thus, when Butters activated Divine Shield at 13% health, he forgot to put any buffs on himself, so Tyler immediately took it away with Mass Dispel. Then Preston executed Butters with Hammer of Wrath, essentially winning the game for his team...only one minute and twenty seconds into the match.

"What the God damn FUCK!" Kyle's yelling shook Butter's headphones, hurting his eardrums. "We lost to these three fuckfaces AGAIN?! I fucking hate those three, especially Tyler!" Butters knew that every time Tyler Hoffman wins against Kyle (which is every time), he talks trash, reminding Kyle how much he sucked at the game.

"Okay, Butters, I am done!" Butters could hear Stan slam something in the background of his chat. "You're not cleansing us like you're supposed to, you just panic, and you let them remove Divine Shield! Where's your stun, Butters?! How am I supposed to do damage if I'm disarmed the whole time?!"

"But fellas, they were attacking me!" Butters replied. "And all you did was just try to do DPS!"

"I'm too sick of tired of having to try to carry you Butters, you're honestly nothing but deadweight," Kyle retorted.

"Yeah, we're not playing with you anymore," Stan replied.

Before Butters could refute anything, he found himself removed once again, for the second time this evening. This was almost as bad as being dumped by his Canadian girlfriend Charlotte due to the gender war in South Park. Only difference is that Butters wanted to have fun, and he wanted to play Arenas because he knew how powerful his class was this patch, so he just wanted easy rewards. Unfortunately, he was relatively new to PvP and was not very good at World of Warcraft, often panicking, forgetting his spells. In truth, his close friend" rarely touch PvP, but decided to give Arena gameplay a try though. Butters typed to all of the kids on his friends list:

1300 hpal lf 3v3 arenas pls no rage

"Man, Stan and Kyle aren't even that good," Butters said to himself. "And neither are Eric and Kenny. They always just blame me, blame the healer. 'Oh, it's always the healer's fault, they just never heal, let me just press my damage buttons on the enemy healer.' They never see me sit in full stuns and sheeps, they just look at their buttons. Well dang them to heck!"

After eleven minutes of waiting, Butters finally got a whisper. It was from another fourth grader, known as Irving Stratford. While Butters knew of Irving and knew he played a hunter, he didn't really know him well, as while Butters had Mr. Garrison for his teacher, Irving had Mr. Gibbons.

[Purple] whispers: yo flufflightzy, it's me irving, me and chris howard are gonna play thug if you wanna join.

Given that Irving is kind enough to give Butters a chance, he'd take it, although Butters was unsure at the same time, as Irving and Chris had way better rating than Butters.

To [Purple]: arent u and chris 2300? and whats thug, is it "thug cleave"? never heard of it before

[Purple] whispers: ya butters but we dont care wut rating u are as long as u listen to us and are willing to learn and dont rage or some shit, we play rogue/hunter/x it definitely works

To [Purple]: i thought u guys played with dani or lexi lockheart, forgot which twin

[Purple] whispers: its definitely works and lexi lockheart got grounded bc fucking mackey caught her flipping off heidi turner telling her to kill herself for real at school LOL i saw the thing at school funny af

To [Purple]: i dont think its that funny

[Purple] whispers: dont be weird r u in or not, ill send you discord inv if u are

After Butters finally accepted he was met by the players "Purple" the hunter and "Net" the rogue. "Alright, fellas, I'm in the chat." Butters was about to tell the other two he had a bad day, but decided against it, if they knew, then maybe they'd think Butters was a bad player and wouldn't let him play with them. When Butters did inspect his teammates, Butters saw that Irving was specialized in the "Marksmanship" tree and Chris was specialized in the "Subtlety" tree. Butters groaned inwardly, he was so sure that because they chose wrong specializations (at least in Butters' mind), they would be dead-weight, in fact, Butters wasn't sure how they got a much higher rank than he did.

In reality however, due to Butters inexperience with PvP combat, he was completely unaware that Irving and Chris have picked the strongest specializations for PvP.

"Everyone's melodramatic as fuck at school nowadays," Irving said.

"Hasn't our school always been super melodramatic?" Chris asked.

"I don't know, but if you asked me, most of our fourth grade class is full of cucks," Irving laughed.

The word "cuck" was rather new to Butters, never hearing of it before. "What's a cuck?"

"Look it up on Urban Dictionary," Irving replied.

Butters pressed ALT-TAB to go to his desktop on his computer. Opening up Safari, he typed Urban Dictionary into his search bar, went on the website, then typed in the word "cuck" into the search bar. He then went to the page that described the word and read it. After comprehending what the word really meant, Butters grimaced. "Oh hamburgers."

"You fellas saying the fourth graders would watch their girlfriends have sex with other guys?" Butters asked.

"No, Butters, what we mean is - nevermind," Irving groaned. "You wouldn't understand."

"Queue popped!" Chris said.

Unfortunately, the end result was that the newly-formed team lost 0-5. Then after the fifth game, things started to go downhill - fast. In truth, Butters was upset that he spent his entire evening failing to have fun in arenas. Inwardly, he was beginning to realize that maybe competitive player-versus-player combat wasn't meant for him. Over the past three hours, he played twenty-three arena games, and he lost all twenty-three. The results don't lie, and believing that Irving and Chris would rage at him, while still emotionally distraught from Stan, Kyle, Eric, and Kenny blaming him earlier, Butters decided enough was enough.

"This is the worst shit in my entire fucking life, even worse than when that bitch Charlotte broke up with me!" Butters yelled. "I hate playing with you two, you fellas are the worst!"

"What?" Chris retored. "You're clearly the worst healer I've ever played with.

"Oh, I'm 'the worst healer'?" Butters shot back. "FUCK YOU CHRIS, FUCK YOU IRVING! I'm not playing with you both anymore, you're both retarded, you play Marksmanship and Subtlety even though they're the worst specs for your class since you have no DPS!" During Butters' rant, he removed Chris and Irving off his friends list and put them on his ignore list.

Irving laughed. "What are you talking about, we're not fighting a raid boss, we're playing against real people, calm your tits, jeez."

"Yeah, you're even more toxic than Cartman," Chris added.

"I'm 'the worst healer'?" Butters yelled. "I pre-BOP the feral druid Maim and yet you use Evasion anyways Chris!" BOP is an acronym for Hand of Protection (previously called Blessing of Protection).

"I told you I was gonna pop Evasion because I knew ahead of time he was gonna try to use Maim into Cyclone," Chris retorted. "You're not listening!"

"You should have saved it for me, when you know, I had Deterrence and Readiness on cooldown," Irving added. "So the feral couldn't get full bleeds off on me."

"Why didn't you use freezing trap or blind or something, but instead you die at like 10% health or some shit, I don't know!" Butters shouted. "Fuck off! Have fun playing without a healer, you stupid cucks!"

Butters left the group and slammed his fists on his keyboard in rage. Perhaps it was time he got off the internet for tonight. He groaned and pushed his keyboard against the keyboard, and at that moment, he decided to go to bed. Maybe Butters would be better off playing with the girls like Wendy, Bebe, and Red. He was sure at least they wouldn't rage.

Hopefully.

I'm sure many of you who have played online games can relate to this story. This is just a short story, and doesn't mean I'm retiring SPANG, in fact, I will hopefully update that story soon. One final note: the abilities I referred to should be from the wotlk-era, but there may or may not be any inaccuracies.

Thanks for reading.