Full Summary:

It's nearing the end of Cartman and his group of friend's senior year, and all they want to do is graduate without being slowed down by any perverse incidents South Park is prone to experience. When a viral infection begins to spread in South Park and, shortly, the world, any hope of graduating is shot down forever as society is just about destroyed.

Anyone overtaken by the virus experiences a deterioration of the mind and body at an alarming rate. To make matters worse, it forces its host to attack, murder, and cannibalize on the living: human or animal.

All they can do now is flee from South Park indefinitely and survive. Whatever you do, keep calm and don't drink the water.

Rated M Solely for Language: No Future Lemons.

Pairings: Kyle/Stan, Kenny/Butters, Cartman/Wendy, Craig/Tweek, Token/Wendy, hinted Clyde/Bebe and Damien/Pip.

AN: This story is a lot of fun to write. The fic started as an idea and quickly grew out of control as I kept coming up with scene after scene of what could happen. I've already decided what the ending will be and have figured out the entire lead up to the breakout of the Zombie Apocalypse.

This is my first time actually attempting to write a South Park fanfic. It was a challenge to get myself prepared and motivated enough to actually write it, because I was fearful of writing the characters wrong and using the incorrect style to write the actual story. After a week of actual planning for both the plot and the characterization of South park all grown up, I decided to give it a shot.

I'm also a little nervous about the romance aspect of it, seeing as I've never focused too much on the romance aspect of it when writing my usual stories. Let me know how well I did, especially when chapter 2 is finished and released.

I appreciate any feedback and critique you give. If you do happen to find something that you're unhappy with (whether it's the style or any potential OOCness), don't hesitate to message me, because I want this story to be an enjoyable experience both on my end and yours.


Chapter One: Cartman's Blessing

"Absolutely not."

"I didn't say anything yet, Cartman."

"It's obvious what you were going to ask, Kinny, and my answer is 'no.' This is going to be at my house, and that means you guys are going to abide by my rules," here he paused briefly in order to force his final textbook into his overstuffed locker. Once this task was accomplished, he slammed his locker shut, turned around to look directly at Kenny, and crossed his arms defiantly with a single brow raised. "And frankly, Butters can spend the rest of his Fridays alone for all I fucking care. Either way, he's not joining us."

Kenny rolled his eyes in exasperation, his eyes being the only visible feature that expressed his intense frustration towards Cartman's words, the rest of which was hidden behind his burnt-orange scarf that was wrapped tightly around his neck and mouth. He mustered up as much authority and conviction as he could into his muffled voice and looked directly into Cartman's cold gaze, "Butters' been hanging out with us for years now and the only thing standing in the way of making him a permanent member of our group is our Friday nights. Face it Cartman, Butters is going to join us sooner or later. You may as well make it tonight."

Cartman sneered, "I don't have to do anything, Kinny. Just because you've got a hard-on for the fag doesn't mean you can just force him on us."

"My horniness aside," Kenny began, eyes wandering towards the opposite end of the hall, a victorious glint suddenly gleaming in his eyes, "I think it's in your best interest to make my blue balls happy in a couple of seconds, fat ass."

"Now why the fuck do you think that-" Cartman cut himself short as his focus turned towards the pair that was quickly closing the distance between them. The scowl that had been previously enveloping his face dissolved and was soon replaced by a cocky smile. His tone of voice changed and its volume increased, which ensured that anyone walking past them could hear exactly what he had to say, "Lucky for you, Kinny, I've decided that you're right. Butters has been hanging out with us for while now; it'd only be selfish of me to prevent him from joining us on our Friday nights. He can come."

If Wendy wasn't paying attention to Cartman before, she was now. She looked away from Token, eyeing him curiously, if not suspiciously. By their senior year, it was well known that these Friday nights were exclusive to only Cartman, Kenny, Stan, and Kyle. No outsiders were allowed to attend. Many had tried, but all of them had failed. Even Wendy, when she'd been dating Stan for the last time back in fifth grade, wasn't allowed to go, and Stan had been attempting to persuade the group for years by then.

"Thanks, dude. I knew you'd pull through," Kenny lightly knocked his fist into Cartman's shoulder.

As soon as Wendy and Token walked out of earshot and Wendy's lingering gaze finally changed its focus back to Token, Cartman's cocky smile morphed back into its previous scowl. He grumbled angrily at Kenny, "You owe me, big time."

"Ah, Ah, Ah, Not so fast. I helped you make Wendy practically wet with curiosity. You're welcome, fat ass," Kenny snickered as Cartman shoved past him, heading towards their next class. After a few moments, Kenny followed him, locking his hands casually behind his back with an air of innocence surrounding him, which was rather ineffective considering only a fool would ever perceive Kenny as innocent, especially when there was an infuriated Cartman stomping ahead of him.

Just as they walked past the threshold of the biology classroom door, the warning bell rang. They were there just in time. Kenny gave a brisk two-finger salute as soon as he saw Kyle and Stan sitting at the front of the room. It wasn't too difficult of a feat to pinpoint their location, seeing as Kyle finally decided to ditch his ushanka back in ninth grade. His vibrant red hair could easily draw anyone's attention, but, unlike his early years, to Kyle's relief, his Jewfro seemed to finally calm down enough so that his curls could frame his face attractively rather than look like someone stuck a red hedge on the top of his head.

Kyle wasn't able to rid himself completely of some sort of permanent fixture on his head. His black metal frame glasses replaced the green ushanka, much to Kyle's dismay, but, hey, Stan thought they made him look hot, so that's a plus. His fashion sense wasn't much to be desired, though. His old orange and green coat was replaced by green sweatervests and white dress shirts. It was too boring for Kenny's taste.

Kenny preferred his orange hoodie, his burnt-red orange scarf, his tattered jeans and the dozens of miscellaneous keychains he liked to hook up to his belt loops compared to Kyle's clothes, thank you very much.

Stan, on the other hand, failed to get rid of his hat. Of course it wasn't the same one that he had worn for most of his life. Seeing as he would grow out of it eventually, Stan had bought a larger version of it in advance as soon as he had come across the same hat sometime around tenth grade. The only difference now was that his hair was long enough so that his black bangs peaked out from underneath it. He also wore blue jeans and a brown sweater. Whenever Kenny went over to Stan's, he usually raided Stan's closet in order to get ahold of one of those sweaters and wear it over his jacket. They were comfy as fuck.

Cartman changed quite a bit over the years. As time wore on, height replaced Cartman's girth, but he was still the fattest kid in his grade. He stood almost six feet tall, a couple of inches taller than Kenny and easily towered over Kyle who was five foot five, but he still hadn't exceeded Stan's height who stood six foot one. Cartman typically wore a red shirt and blue jeans with a black wristband on his right arm and occasionally wore a hat that looked like his old one, but preferred to forget it in the bowels of his dresser.

Instead of sitting next to the three, with Cartman taking his place a desk over, Kenny took his usual seat near the back. With a smirk, he propped his feet up onto the back of the desk chair in front of him and playfully tapped the side of one of his sneakers against Butters' head. Butters, who had been doodling in his notebook, was startled. He turned around to give the perpetrator a look of annoyance, but any animosity he had soon withered away when he noticed just who was the one that decided to bother him.

"H-Hi Kenny."

An easy smile overtook Kenny's face in response to the other blond's greeting. Boy, did Butters look fine. Butters abandoned his old haircut way back when and decided to adopt a haircut similar to Niall Horan's, but not the flipped up version of it, at least that's what Butters told him. Kenny, frankly, had no idea who he was. All he did know was that Butters new look made him horny and that it didn't sacrificing his hair's usual softness.

Butters wasn't much taller than Kyle, which Kenny didn't mind. He could comfortably hug him and hold his hands without a second thought as he was prone to do.

Nowadays, he wore a light blue turtleneck, a checkered belt, and black skinny jeans that framed his perfectly round ass oh so nicely. What he wouldn't give to just put his hands on it.

In one swift motion, Kenny moved his feet back where they belonged and leaned forward with one hand propping his head up. "Hey Butters," Kenny's muffled sing-song voice responded. "Boy, do I have good news for you."

The other blond looked at him curiously and was just about to encourage Kenny to continue, when Mrs. Lipschitz had finished taking attendance, "Class, quiet down now." Initially very few people followed her request, that is, until she decided to smack her ruler as hard as she could on top of the nearest desk, which was, unfortunately, Tweek's. He screamed in fear, jumping in his seat from sheer fright. Mrs. Lipschitz didn't bat an eye, even after Craig gave her a look of annoyance and casually flipped her off.

Mrs. Lipschitz might have been an attractive woman at one point in her long life, but it was obvious that those days were long gone. She always had this sour look on her face as if she had just drunk a bottle of sour milk. She was littered with wrinkles, odd hairs, moles, and warts. She was balding at the front of her head and what hair she had was frizzled and thin. She also had a mustache that would make any prepubescent boy jealous. With looks like hers, it wasn't a surprise that her personality was complete and utter shit.

"Now that I have everyone's attention," she began, "I can begin the documentary that I have in store for today." Almost everybody groaned irritably at that. She played a documentary every day. During it, no one was allowed to talk or do much of anything, really. If she caught anyone speaking, drawing, or handing notes to one another, the culprits were immediately given a detention. No questions asked. "Today we'll be watching 'Viruses: A Threat to Humanity'-" She was briefly interrupted by another shriek from Tweek. She ignored him once again, "And, like usual, pay close attention to what's being said. This might be on our next quiz." With that, she sat herself down back into the chair, started the video, and promptly began to play Flappy Birds on her smartphone afterwards.

Kenny rolled his eyes at her last statement. That was a load of bullshit. They were never given any quizzes or tests in this class, and he didn't expect her to give one anytime soon. That would mean the old hag actually had to put some effort into this class. He couldn't really complain, though. This class was a slacker class through and through. All he had to do was fill out the occasional worksheet they were given and that was it. An 'A' was pretty much guaranteed.

"Viruses are tiny particles that are thousands of times smaller than human cells and bacteria. Unlike human cells and bacteria, viruses cannot exist on their own and thus, they require a host cell in order to survive."

Kenny was barely listening to what was being said. Instead, he decided to risk the threat of Mrs. Lipshitz's wrath. In a moment or two of furious scribbling, he tapped Butters shoulder when Mrs. Lipschitz looked particularly engrossed in her current game. Once Butters' attention had been grabbed, he flashed the folded up piece of paper and handed it to him underneath the desk. Butters studied it carefully, reading Kenny's handwriting with a look of surprise.

It read: You've got Cartman's blessing to join us tonight. Get ready to pack your things as soon as you get home, because we're staying the night.

Butters started writing after a moment of contemplation. At the next moment of opportunity, he handed Kenny another note. His neat handwriting was a definite contrast to Kenny's messy scrawl. If Kenny hadn't exchanged dozens of notes with Butters during class, he would have easily mistaken Butters' handwriting for a girl's. Gosh, Kenny, How'd you manage that?

When Kenny glanced up, he noticed Mrs. Lipschitz scanning the room for anyone that may be slacking off. He quickly focused his attention on the documentary again and feigned minute interest in what was being said:

"Viruses, once they've entered the body via nose, mouth, or a break in the skin, can reproduce thousands of new viruses and can quickly spread throughout the body. Once a host has done its job of effectively reproducing new viruses, the virus itself can either break the host cell open, killing the host cell in the process, or pinch out of the cell membrane, which allows the host cell to survive."

This was boring the hell out of Kenny, but Mrs. Lipschitz continued to stare down the classroom:

"The immune system responds to this infection by increasing the body's temperature, initiating a fever. This fever slows down the rate of viral reproduction, allowing white blood cells the chance to kill the infection. If a virus is extremely aggressive, however, the immune system won't be effective enough to stave off the infection. The body will succumb to the virus and eventually the host will die. This brings up the question. If a virus is powerful enough, could it threaten the entire human population? In the last year, newly discovered records suggests that near the end of the 14th century, a doctor by the name of Yersinia Pestis unleashed a newly discovered virus in an effort to initiate a sort of apocalypse known now as the Black Death-"

Mrs. Lipschitz finally looked away from her students and went back to whatever the hell she was doing on her phone. Kenny mentally rejoiced. He wrote up a quick response and handed it to Butters: Through the powers of puberty. Wendy happened to be walking by when I asked. Cartman's dick told him to finally give in to me. Remind me to personally thank it later tonight ;)

Butters gave him a nervous glance, most likely due to the last sentence of his response, for whatever reason, but Kenny just waggled his eyebrows, which gave Butters the hint he needed to know that he was just joking. He rolled his eyes, but replied by mouthing a simple "thanks."

Before the two could do anything else, a sudden cough drew their attention away from one another. Their gazes locked onto a raised ruler, its worn frame smacking itself harshly against the smartboard. Tweek and a few students that had nearly fallen asleep jumped at Mrs. Lipshitz's actions.

"Stay focused, class. We only have another ten minutes to go through. I won't hesitate to keep those who fail to pay attention to the video after class until they see this entire documentary, again," her old, wrinkled face maintained its look of indifference in response to the unanimous groans of her students.

It shouldn't be too surprising to find out that this was Kenny's least favorite teacher. How she had gotten the job, he'd never know.


The last ten minutes felt like hours for Butters. A certain torture specifically designed to raise Butters' excitement and anxiety up to an almost unbearable level. The opportunity Kenny had managed to get for him was absolutely amazing, but it was also making Butters a ball of nerves for two reasons: his parents might say 'no' to the whole thing or he would somehow screw up.

He trusted that Kenny would stick by his side through thick and thin, seeing as they'd become practically inseparable over the years, brought together by a combination of rotten circumstances and bi-weekly tutoring sessions. This fact alleviated some of his intense anxiety, but he couldn't help but feel a grain of worry. Just because Kenny wouldn't mind if he did something wrong that didn't mean the others wouldn't, especially Cartman. At this point, he began to knock his knuckles together underneath his desk as these internal feelings began to creep itself towards the forefront of his thoughts.

Cartman didn't like him all too much anymore. In eighth grade, Butters had decided to take a stand and make it clear that he wouldn't blindly follow Cartman whenever he wanted him to help him out in his hair-brained schemes.

The last straw for Butters had been when Cartman had stolen a toddler, given her to Butters and told him to keep an eye on his niece until a day or two passed, only to had almost gotten killed by the kid's crazy parents. He, too, had been convicted of a felony, and had been ultimately grounded for five months because his parents were embarrassed by all of the trouble he had caused. It wasn't until later on, when Cartman was cussing him out for failing to keep her hidden well enough, that he found out the toddler wasn't related to Cartman, that Cartman's plan was to collect the reward money that was sure to come from rescuing a missing toddler that had been kidnapped from a playground.

But that was another story. To put it simply, he wizened up about how disastrous his naivety could be when Cartman decided to take advantage of it.

It was lonely at first, having no other close friends to hang out with and he was, quite frankly, afraid to go anywhere near Cartman for a couple of weeks. He had even resorted to talking to Pip here or there, but he wasn't desperate enough to become friends with him. If he did that, his chance of ever having a social life would be over.

Luckily for Butters, Kenny had approached him back in 9th grade to ask him to tutor him, and things went from there. When Kenny tried incorporating him into the official group, Kyle and Stan didn't seem to have any objections, especially after the whole incident with Cartman still fresh in their minds. And now, four years later, as far as Butters can tell, he was pretty close friends with them all. But would that be enough? Butter's insecurities were catching back up to him again.

Just as Butters was beginning to imagine his parents disapproval of going over to Cartman's house, something he hadn't done in years, he felt something nudge his elbow. Kenny was sneaking him another note. Butters gave a brief glance at Mrs. Lipschitz again, but she was too busy staring down Craig who looked ready to nod off any second now. The evil woman was dead set on ruining someone's day.

Butters unfolded the note, his face slightly flushing with embarrassment at what was written: I can see that you're doing it again. Stop worrying. This isn't some sort of trial.

Kenny knew his tendencies to question himself and his bothersome self-esteem issues all too well. Butters felt like his mom caught him accidentally putting a can of Campbell's tomato soup on the wrong part of the shelf. He was grateful that Kenny was trying to alleviate his worries, but even he recognized that even though Kenny may be Cartman's right-hand man, and technically Cartman's best friend, he can only do so much to sway Cartman's opinion one way or another.

Butters smiled sheepishly at Kenny, refraining from messing with his hands again. Kenny seemed to return the smile, but there was a note of disbelief in it. Not wanting to risk Mrs. Lipschitz noticing that they weren't paying absolute attention to the credits of the documentary, he turned back towards the screen.

Minutes ticked by before the sweet toll of the the bell rang. School had officially ended. Friday had finally begun.

Just when everyone began gathering their things, the door was slammed shut and Mrs. Lipschitz's grating voice sounded, "Class, you are dismissed. Craig, Clyde, and Pip since you three failed to pay attention in class, you'll have to stay after school and watch it until you do."

"Oh man, you've got to be kidding me," Clyde groaned and slammed his head against his open notebook, doodles littering the pages.

"Yes ma'am," Pip responded with his typical long and outstretched smile, which held no ounce of happiness. He had been caught daydreaming.

Craig, on the other hand, remained asleep, the palm of his hand cradling his head. Mrs. Lipschitz slammed her infamous ruler on his desk, earning herself a quick flip of the bird as soon as he woke up.

Butters and Kenny left in order to catch up with the others.

"God, I thought that'd never end," Stan began, briefly running his hand through his hair in exasperation, pulling off his hat in the process. "I can't tell you how many times I almost passed out."

"I don't know what was worse, the fact that all of their historical facts were complete and utter bullshit or that the narrator sounded awfully like Stephen Hawking," Kyle bit out.

"Speak for yourself, Kahl. Just because you didn't like what they said about the Jews doesn't make them wrong. I for one found the part where the Jews created smallpox in order to prepare for world domination to be particularly enlightening," Cartman sneared. "But then again, I already suspected that."

"Really, Cartman? It was obvious that they pulled all of their historical facts out of their asses," Kyle seethed. "And no way in hell were any of those fucking Anti-Semitic facts true!"

"Dude, how is this any of this different from the other videos she played?" Stan nudged Kyle lightly with his elbow in order to get his attention.

"Because this is the worst video she's played yet. Last week it was a documentary about Darwin's Theory of Evolution, and it was clearly racist. The week before that we played one about the consequences of radiation poisoning and it was trying to convince people that an all out nuclear war wouldn't be such a bad fucking idea. But this week, they were trying to justify Hitler's actions, over what? Some naturally occurring viruses!"

"I-if it's any consolation, Kyle, I don't think anyone was really payin' attention to it anyways," Butters said, finally able to catch up with the group with Kenny at his side who was merely listening with amusement gleaming in his eyes. Kyle gave Butters a small smile, but it was gone a moment later.

"So, Kahl, if you're so convinced that they're wrong, prove it Jew-boy."

"Just open any history textbook, you'll find all of the evidence you need," Kyle raised his arms in frustration.

"And we watched a documentary about viruses, Kahl. Who's to say that that one's not correct?"

"Goddammit, Cartman, the fact of the matter is that their science may be fine-this is a biology documentary afterall- but their history isn't!"

Kenny and Stan could see that Cartman had a retort on the tip of his tongue and knew that they'd never get to leave if that were the case. Stan wrapped his arm around Kyle's shoulders, interrupting the two's argument in its footsteps, "We should probably get going."

"We still have go to Butters' house," Kenny added.

Kyle and Stan looked at them curiously before Kenny grinned, motioning for Butters to speak up, "I-I got Cartman's blessin'."

They broke out into a smile and Stan clapped him on the back, "Sweet, dude."

"What'd you have to do to get that?"

"What do you mean 'what'd he have to do'? Maybe I'm just a good guy, Kahl. Have you ever thought about that?"

They all looked at Cartman with raised brows, clearly unconvinced. Butters just looked away from him with a guilty expression on his face, trying to hide the fact that he agreed with the others.

"'Ey! Screw you guys!"

Kenny snickered as he approached his locker, he pointed a finger conspicuously towards Token and Wendy. Token had his arm around her waist as she and him were talking to a slightly uncomfortable Tweek, probably because his other half wasn't by his side. "If you want your reason, there it is."

"Wendy?" Stan's brows furrowed in confusion.

"She passed by him when I asked."

Comprehension dawned on Stan and Kyle's faces.

This didn't bode well with Cartman, whose face twisted into one of repressed anger and, what could possibly be, embarrassment, "Seriousleh guys? You're going to believe what Kinny says?"

"Do you even have to ask?" Stan raised a brow at him, his backpack and overnight bag in hand. Kenny's muffled laughter was heard briefly before he tried to cover it up with a cough.

Cartman glowered, "It's not too late to retract Butters' invitation."

Butters' eyes widened at this. He knocked his knuckles nervously and asked him with a tinge of fear in his voice, "G-gosh Cartman, you're really gonna kick me out?"

"Unless he wants Wendy to know about this, he's not," Kenny said, his whole body language free of worry.

"I'm not going to forget this anytime soon, Kinny," Cartman warned him.

Kenny patted his cheek affectionately, "And I'm sure you won't, buddy." His hand was smacked harshly from his face.

Stan and Kyle didn't seem perturbed by the exchange between the two; whereas, Butters looked increasingly uncomfortable as time wore on. Cartman's threat hung over his head. This was what he was fearful of: rejection. If that were to occur, Butters wouldn't be devastated, perse-he's been well-acquainted with it long enough for him to not feel too depressed if it were to happen again- if anything, Butters would just feel immense disappointment.

"Everyone set?" Kyle asked as soon as he managed to carry all of his things in such a way that it wouldn't upset his balance. He looked rather odd carrying a backpack, sleeping bag, a suitcase, and a messenger bag, all of which didn't seem to hinder him despite his shorter stature.

Butters then momentarily wondered how Kyle was even able to fit everything in his locker in the first place.

Almost everybody nodded in response, Cartman, on the other hand, just started walking towards the exit which led to South Park High's student parking lot. The others soon followed his leave. As they were attempting to catch up with the long strides of Cartman, Stan had managed to pry Kyle's sleeping bag from him before the redhead could object. After taking the few seconds to adjust his bags, Stan intertwined their fingers together.

Butters spotted Cartman's ride. It was hard to miss the Ford truck with its yellow exterior, massive size, and the fact that it was purposely parked in two parking spaces near the front of the lot.

Everyone but Butters knew exactly where to sit, seeing as Butters typically rode the bus. Cartman took his place in the driver's seat with Kenny calling shotgun after haphazardly tossing his small, extra bag into the back of the truck. Stan and Kyle dropped their things in the back, as well, but with more grace than Kenny's complete disregard for the state of his things. Butters stood awkwardly to the side as this went on, careful to not get in the way of their everyday routine.

"'Ey, Butters, get your ass in gear, I don't have all day!" Cartman yelled, sticking his head out of the vehicle.

Butters attention was grabbed immediately then. He rushed towards the back to stick his backpack in the truck and closed its top cover, giving Cartman a quick, " S-sorry Cartman!"

He then joined Kyle and Stan in the back, claiming the window seat behind Cartman; whereas, Kyle scooted closer to Stan in order to give Butters more room to buckle up before resuming his prior space in the middle of the two.

The first minute or so was relatively silent as Cartman concentrated on getting the hell out of dodge, aiming to escape the congested student parking lot before it reached its peak. Butters, hating the silence, tried to start up a conversation: "So, how're ya fellas doi-"

"Shut the fuck up, Butters."

But, well, then that happened.


With the truck clear of the parking lot, the silence was finally allowed to be broken: "Has Kinny explained any of the rules to you yet, Butters?" Cartman's searing gaze locked onto Butters' from the rearview mirror of the truck, an eyebrow raised expectantly.

"N-no, not that I know of. I didn't even know you fellas had any rules for these things," Butters responded with a small smile. "But I'm sure I can pick 'em up quickly. I might not be the best at followin' the rules at home cuz there's a lot of 'em and all, but, boy howdy, I'll try my best!" At this point his smile broadened visibly and he raised his chin with some confidence.

Cartman rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh, already regretting giving into Kenny's request. He'd just have to keep reminding himself that his decision served a purpose. It acted as a stepping stone to get him what he desired, and Cartman always made sure he got what he wanted. "Just say 'no' next time."

"Gee, Cartman I-"

He cut him off to stop the long-winded apology Cartman just knew was trying to force its way out of him. He frankly didn't give a damn whether or not Butters felt sorry for something that did not require a goddamn apology. "Since Kinny clearly proved his incompetence again, and I was clearly expecting too much from him when money's not on the table-"

"Go fuck yourself, Cartman."

"I'll explain them to you now. Pay absolute attention Butters, I'm not going to repeat myself again.

"Rule number one: I get the final word. I choose the movie, I choose the food, I-goddammit Butters, are you even fucking listening to me?" Cartman snapped, daring to turn his head away from the road to give Butters a look of complete and utter annoyance. This kid was unbelievable. How in the hell did Kenny feel any sort of attraction towards him?

"Keep your eyes on the road, fat ass, I don't want to end up getting whiplash if you fuck up," Kyle berated him, making a shooing-motion with his hands in order to direct his attention to where it's supposed to be.

"I never fuck up when I drive," nevertheless, he decided on his own that it was best that he turned around. Pfft, like he'd ever follow the Jew's instructions.

He swore underneath his breath a second later when he approached a red light. "Well because this light turned out to be an asshole, I have a few extra minutes to tell you some of the rules before we get to your house. What number was I on, again?"

"Still one," Stan said off-handedly, looking outside his window with one palm cradling his chin.

"Okay, actually pay attention this time, Butters, or I won't hesitate to kick you out of my truck right now."

"S-sorry, Cartman. It won't happen, again," Butters stuttered, taking Cartman's threat to heart. Cartman found an ounce of satisfaction in this.

"It better be," he cleared his throat before beginning again. "The first rule is probably the most important rule: no matter what we do, I get the final say. For example, I get to choose what movies we watch. You may wonder why I have that much authoriteh, so let me explain. I own the best stereo system and flat screen TV out of all of us, which means I'm always the one hosting-"

"Not always, sometimes we head over to Kyle's house, but that's only when Cartman's mom has company over. You know, because we all know they'll eventually lounge around, have a few drinks, maybe feed her pussy while they're at it," Kenny said, twirling his finger in the air, his mischievous smile visible now that he'd shed his hood and scarf.

Butters looked at Kenny in confusion, "But why does Ms. Cartman need help feeding her cat?"

"Kinny," warned Cartman, a cold, calculating stare directed itself towards Kenny. He was starting to take things too far.

His friend knew perfectly well that he was getting on his nerves today. For one, Kenny was bringing his mother into the conversation and with this subtext attached, and Kenny knew that he was treading dangerous territory because of it. Secondly, it appeared that Kenny had the upperhand on Cartman. Kenny felt as if he were impervious to Cartman and his wrath. The look he was sending ensured that he'd sent the message across: Kenny shouldn't push his luck. Cartman would think up of a way to get back at him for putting him in such a vulnerable position, and, right now, he was playing around with the idea of 'accidentally' hitting Kenny with his truck. The more damage it caused to him, the more satisfied Cartman would be.

Kenny raised his hands in mock surrender, giving Cartman the signal to continue with the group's agreed upon list of rules, after he started driving again, that is, "Another very important rule is that no one is allowed to invite anyone else without both my and the group's permission."

"S-sorry if I'm interruptin' or anythin', Cartman, but I thought no one was allowed to come at all. I heard from Wendy that you fellas didn't even let her join even though she yelled at ya 'bout it. Does that mean I'm the first one?" Butters asked.

The others nodded simultaneously. Butters looked down at his hands, rubbing his knuckles together nervously, his skin growing red in irritation from the frequent abuse, "Gee fellas, I don't know what ta say."

"Don't let it get to your head. We can kick you out any time we want," Cartman snorted contemptuously.

"Actually, Cartman, rule six states that the only way that a group member can be kicked out is if they break any of the rules we've already established. You were the one who made it up after we kicked you out, because you tried setting Kenny's sleeping bag on fire to get back at us for not wanting to watch 'Passion of the Christ'," Kyle intercepted, not wanting Cartman to concern Butters with blatant lies.

"Doesn't mean we can't change it again."

"We tried to do that before, dude, but then you added rule 7 to make sure rule 6 always stays in effect: 'under no circumstances can rule 6 or 7 be changed'," Stan said with a shrug of his shoulders. "We're not the one who made the rules, fat ass, you did."

Seeing as Cartman couldn't think of a loophole to appease his want for complete control of the situation, at the moment, that is, he begrudgingly accepted his past-self's actions. Actions that had completely disregarded a potential scenario like this. Without another word on his part, he drowned out the idle chatter of his friends with his own perpetuating thoughts as he turned into the driveway of Butters' home.

It was now Butters' parents' turn to determine the fate of their only son, and with whatever fate they chose, Cartman was prepared to reap the benefits.


The infamous list the girls had made back in fourth grade wasn't the first of its kind, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. By senior year, they had made well over a hundred lists covering a variety of subjects ranging from something innocent to something cruelly judgemental. Unlike when their most notable list had reached the eyes and ears of the boy community, the girls filtered their lists and kept the most damning tucked away in a location none of the male population would ever consider finding it in-or at least that's what the girls' claimed.

One list in particular came to the forefront of Kyle's mind as he stared out the window. It was one that he, Stan, and Token had helped create after the girls' insistence: the top 10 worst parents of South Park. Unbeknownst to Butters, or anyone else but a select few, the Stotch's had made the top of that list. And, by now, Kyle's main group of friends knew just how horrible they treated their one and only son. They've heard plenty of stories from Kenny. As a result, Kyle had concluded long ago that they were scum.

And that is all Kyle could think of when he stood in front of the Stotch residence.

"Let me go in first," Butters began, climbing carefully out of Cartman's truck. "I don't want 'em thinkin' I'm invitin' people over without t-their permission."

"Do you mind if we stick around on the front steps until then?" Stan absently asked, taking a long look at the house's exterior.

Kyle followed his line of vision, a look of disgust flashing across his face. Gaudy lawn ornaments suffocated the neatly trimmed green expanse: gnomes, flamingos, fake mushrooms, fake squirrels, wind chimes, and a bright, plastic bird fountain were placed sporadically throughout the yard. It resembled more of a garden center than a home.

"Nah, I don't mind. Just wait until my cue ta go inside," Butters gave a small smile to the pair before glancing at Kenny who was approaching Cartman. "Isn't Cartman gonna come?"

"Cartman wants to stay in the truck," Kenny said, wrapping his scarf around his mouth again. He pulled his hood over his head as he added, "If push comes to shove, though, we can use him to get your parents to let you come over. Stan and Kyle should be enough, though."

"Because we don't have a criminal record that rivals Charles Manson's?" Kyle pushed his glasses up his nose with a smirk on his lips.

"Exactly," Kenny said, outstretching his arms. He then motioned for Stan and Kyle to gravitate closer to him, and he continued in a much quieter voice, "But make sure to, you know, tone it down a little. You know how his parents can be."

Oh, did Kyle know all too well what Kenny meant. Gossip spread fast in this small, redneck town and the Stotch's were of no exception. It was rumored that Mr. and Mrs. Stotch's relationship was strained by Mr. Stotch's curiosity towards those of the same sex, that and he cheated on his wife due to this unfamiliar lust more than once years back. As a result, they were extremely homophobic. This fact didn't bode well for Butters, because everyone in the school, including Kyle, believed that he was locked deep inside the closet with his parents being the keepers of the key. If Butters so much as demonstrated anything that resembled less than perfect, including his sexuality, then he was immediately grounded.

This was just another reason why they were number one on the list.

He and Stan exchanged a look. Kyle huffed in frustration for matters beyond simply keeping out of arm's reach of his boyfriend's; whereas, Stan merely shrugged, understanding the situation but not looking happy about it, and took a couple of steps away from Kyle in order to remove all possibility for Mr. and Mrs. Stotch to mistake their relationship for what it really was. The Stotch's themselves had their suspicions already, but a confirmation of it would cause them to disallow Butters association with them for the years to come. That was something they wanted to avoid at all costs.

"It's not a problem. Anything else we need to do to help you out, Butters?" Stan asked, shoving his hands into his jean pockets.

"Nothing I can think of, no."

"Sounds good then, lead the way," Stan pulled one of his hands out of his pocket in order to sweep it towards the front steps.

Butters nodded, walking towards his front door. He took a deep breath and changed his posture, attempting to harness as much courage as he was able to.

It was now or never.

He opened the door to his house and the voices of his parents easily traveled to the group: "-don't know what's gotten into them, Linda. Carl, David, and Cindy have been sick for the last few days and a couple hours after they got back, none of them would respond to anything anyone said. In fact, when I tried to get Carl's attention, he bit me. Can you believe that?"

"That's certainly strange. Do you think he might've just been having a bad day?"

"I don't know, Linda. I don't know. All I do know is that my boss is going to hear about this. Carl's lucky it isn't deep enough that I need stitches," the sound of footsteps were quickly approaching the front door. "Is that you, Butters? What have I told you about keeping the door open?"

"S-sorry, dad. We just got here, s-so it wasn't open for t-too long," he gave the man a strained smile before he glanced at his friends behind him for a moment. "Stan, Kyle, and Kenny are here. C-can they come in for a bit?"

Mr. Stotch appeared at the entrance of the doorway just then with a large smile plastered on his face, "Of course they can. Be sure to take your shoes off before you come in. We don't want Linda to have a fit." He chuckled lowly. It was as fake as his smile.

The group entered the room, slipping off their pair of shoes. Kenny tossed his grungy pair of converse to the side, Butters carefully placed his new sneakers in one of the corners by the front entrance, Kyle neatly aligned his loafers against the wall, and Stan piled his pair of tennis shoes in the middle of the front entrance. Kyle gave Kenny and Stan a disapproving look, but said nothing of it.

Butters stood rather awkwardly to the side of the group, rapping his knuckles together in his usual nervous manner, "Um, d-dad, I have a question ta ask ya, if it's okay, that is."

"Of course, son. Thank you for asking."

"I-is it alright if I stay over at K-Kyle's house tonight? T-their parents are gonna be chaperonin' and all, and I promise to keep out of trouble. I finished my homework at school and-"

Mr. Stotch raised his hand, immediately quieting down Butters' increasingly nervous banter. Kyle noticed the bandages wrapped tightly around the raised hand, blood seeping into the white cloth. It must have been what the coworker had bitten. Mr. Stotch smiled vacantly at his son and said, "Of course you can stay over there. Sheila and Linda are good friends, you know. Just be sure to say hello to Gerald and Sheila for us and be on your best behavior, mister, or there will be consequences." They all winced at the sound of Mr. Stotch's empty laughter.

Kyle wasn't surprised by Butters' decision to lie about where he was exactly going. Like Mr. Stotch said, his mom and Butters' mom were good friends. If they were to allow him to stay over at anyone's home, it was Kyle's, and so Kyle made the effort to not reveal the truth of the situation for his sake.

Butters immediately brightened up by that answer, clearly surprised by this decision, "Gee willikers. Thanks, dad!"

"Ha ha, you're welcome, son. It'll be nice to have a night alone with your mother. God knows we need it, " he ruffled Butters' hair, oblivious to Butters' visible flinch at the contact. Mr. Stotch turned away from the two and called out, "Linda, Butters brought some of his friends over."

"Aw, that's wonderful, dear," Linda's voice called from the kitchen. "I'm almost done with the next batch of cookies. There should be just enough here for them to snack on at their sleepover."

An audible "Whoop!" sounded from Kenny, both arms raised in joy.

Kyle had to admit, as much as he couldn't stand the woman, she did bake a mean batch of cookies.

Kenny grabbed one of Butters' hands and began to pull him towards the stairs, "Come on, Butters, we've better get packing before the smell of fresh cookies draws out the fat tub of lard from his cave." He half-hazardly pulled him up the stairs. Mr. Stotch's look of disapproval followed the two until they were out of sight. Once their reverberating steps were the only reminder of their presence, Mr. Stotch turned his attention back to Stan and Kyle who made no move to follow the two.

"So, how are you boys doing this fine evening? Keeping out of trouble, I hope," Mr. Stotch gestured for the two to sit down.

Stan gave the man a strained smile before responding, taking a seat on the left hand side of the couch all the while, "Pretty good. Nothing much's going on, really. Just the usual." As an afterthought he added, "And yeah, we've been keeping out of trouble." He failed to tell Mr. Stotch that they had all participated in Charity or Plungejust last week, which was probably a good idea considering that it looked like the incident had slipped the man's mind.

Kyle and the others had jumped off of a bridge last Friday and landed in a river with their life jackets on. Someone had seen them and misinterpreted what they were doing as some sort of suicide pact and sought for their parents in order to tell them the bad news. Kyle and the others walked in on their own funeral a few hours later, which caused a massive panic throughout the crowd, seeing as they were all proclaimed dead. But that was another story.

"I wish I could say the same for Butters. He's a troublemaker, that boy. He just doesn't know how stay away from it. God knows what the neighbors think. You boys are going to keep a close eye on him and make sure he doesn't make our family look bad, right?"

Sitting on the right side of the couch, ensuring he and Stan weren't directly beside one another, Kyle tried to conceal the rising irritation he felt towards the man. Mr. Stotch had no right to talk like that when he's done so much worse than anything Butters' had ever done. His fists curled subconsciously. Mr. Stotch remained oblivious of his ill feelings towards him, but Stan recognized the signs.

Stan tried to placate him with a warning look, knowing full well how temperamental Kyle could get. Kyle glanced at him before turning his attention back towards the man, "Of course."

"It's good to know that he'll be in good hands. It'll be good for him to be around kids his age with some sensibility in them," Mr. Stotch stared at the two boys expectantly.

"Er, yeah," Stan didn't know what else to say. Both of them really didn't want to agree with anything Mr. Stotch was saying.

Kyle shifted uncomfortably in his seat as Mr. Stotch continued to smile at them with the same lifelessness as before.

"I've finished another batch of cookies," Mrs. Stotch walked in with a massive plate held in her arms. Her left eye twitched slightly when she spotted the three, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. She placed the fine china in front of them and some of the two dozen cookies fell from their fragile perch on the plate and onto the carpet. Her eye twitched with greater intensity at the sight.

Stan helped himself to a cookie, but Kyle refrained from following his example. With his insulin shot and monitor in his backpack inside the back of Cartman's truck, he didn't want to take the risk. The Stotch's continued to stare at him when he made no move to take one. He mentally sighed and grabbed a freshly made cookie, but did nothing further.

This apparently was enough for Mrs. Stotch, because she began walking back towards the kitchen promptly after he accomplished this action, "That other batch should be done in a minute or so. So, I apologize in advance for leaving so suddenly."

Kyle was handing Stan the baked good wordlessly when she said this, prompting him to look up and exchange the same surprised and confused expression. Just how many cookies was Butters' mom making?

Kenny and Butters' needed to hurry their asses up, because this was getting to be a bit too much for them to take.


It always amazed Kenny just how organized Butters' room was. Much like his father, Butters had many collections of miscellaneous things that were grouped together in distinctive patterns, some groupings were even accompanied by small labels. But, unlike Mr. Stotch, these collections were not boring.

On a bulletin board that was hanging just above his desk were dozens of newspaper headlines that summarized every shit storm South Park had ever experienced. Next to his bed was his bookshelf. Amongst the many books that resided on it lied multiple photo albums filled with antique photographs of times long forgotten. Each photo was rather peculiar in its own way, whether it was the subject matter itself or the early days of photo manipulation. Butters liked to write short stories based off of these photos in his spare time, which he kept beside the photo albums. Kenny remembered the nights he stayed over when his mother was having a particularly bad day and his sister was safely at Craig's. Butters read these stories to him into the late of the night when both of them were either tired of messing around on the computer or just wanted to escape from their own reality. In a variety of jars placed neatly beside his bookshelf were small notes, each with a good memory Butters had experienced that day.

Kenny wondered if he was ever mentioned in any of those notes.

"I think we got everythin' I need for the sleepover, " Butters interrupted Kenny's admiration of the room, causing the other blond to turn his attention back to the task they had at hand.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," Butters face scrunched up, deep in thought, "Um, at least, at least I think I am.

"Here, let me look," Kenny gently took the list that they recently made from Butters' hands, accidentally brushing his fingers against his as he did so. He raised a brow in curiosity at Butters' reaction. There was a light blush adorning his cheeks.

Well, that was certainly interesting. He'd definitely had to investigate that later.

At the moment, however, they were too busy for him to figure out what was going on in Butters' head.

Kenny began to scan the contents of the list, but he hadn't gone very far before he heard the unmistakable sound of Butters rubbing his knuckles together.

Not again.

He set aside the list temporarily in preference of lightly gripping Butters' wrists in order to stop the boy from further irritating the skin of his knuckles from the constant abuse. Butters' looked at him sheepishly when he saw Kenny's stern gaze, "You have nothing to worry about, Butters. Like I said, this isn't some sort of trial."

"B-but, what if I break one of the rules? I'm no good at followin' rules. I never have been. Cartman doesn't like me much. Maybe he'll be able ta think of a loophole that can kick me out even if I don't break a rule," Butters explained to Kenny with a nervous glint in his eyes.

Kenny gave him a small smile, releasing his grip on Butters' wrists in order to intertwine their fingers which was not unusual as he sought contact like this with everyone he was close to, "Trust me, you've got Stan, Kyle, and me backing you up. We never let Cartman have his way, and, when we do, it's only because we know it'll bite him in the ass by the end of it."

"Pinkie swear?" Butters slipped one of his hands out from Kenny's grip to present him his pinkie finger.

Kenny chuckled at the childish gesture, but, nevertheless, linked his pinkie with Butters', "Pinkie swear." Butters gave him a small smile. Kenny couldn't tell if it was just his imagination or not, but he could have sworn that Butters hesitated when he released their joined hands. That made a catlike grin overtake his expression, but thoughts of the purity ring incident instantly took it away.

Before Butters could detect the sudden change in his mood, Kenny landed unceremoniously in Butters' desk chair, its hinges groaning under the sudden stress of the added weight. With his hood flipped over his eyes, he held out the previously discarded list to Butters and said, "We've almost packed everything you need."

"Almost? But I thought we got everythin' on the list. What'd we forget?" Butters took hold of the list, sticking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he scrutinized every word.

"We did get everything on the list, but one key detail. One that I didn't add to the list yet. Any guesses?" Kenny lifted up a corner of his hood so that one of his eyes was peeking out from underneath the orange cloth.

Butters looked around the room with big blue eyes and adopted a thoughtful expression. After a moment or two of contemplation, he shook his head, "Shucks, Kenny, I got nuthin'." Here he held up a hand to count his fingers, "See, we already got all of the things I need ta get ready in the mornin', even a few barettes just in case my hair doesn't want to cooperate tomorrow like it sometimes does, and we packed a few extra blankets alongside my sleeping bag. Gosh, I even brought my snuggie while we were at it, yanno, the light blue one with the penguins all over it. What could possibly be left that I need?"

A small smile adorned Kenny's face, his scarf that he had yet to take off obscured much of the expression and the hood prevented Butters from seeing most of it, but it was there. Kenny found it amusing whenever Butters would unnecessarily go on and on about something. Initially it was rather obnoxious, but, like most habits of his closest friend, he soon thought of it as endearing.

With Butters giving up on the challenge, though not without some effort being applied, Kenny sat up from his stooped position and flipped his hood off of his head. He held up a finger, "One word, Butters: tribute."

Said blond looked at him in confusion, cocking his head slightly with curiosity, "T-tribute?"

He nodded in confirmation, "Yes, Butters, Tribute. See, once upon a long ass time ago, Cartman got really pissed off at all of us for 'mooching' off of him whenever he hosted our Friday nights. In order to prevent him from doing something stupid, like taking us to court to win ownership of all of our stuff or something like that, Stan suggested that we make rule 3: everyone must bring something of value."

"V-value? Like money or jewelry?"

He shook his head, "Not quite. More like something that everyone can appreciate. For example, I usually bring a new videogame I manage to save up for or some of my porn stash." He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

Butters didn't bat an eye at the last half of the statement by now used to these types of comments coming from him, "If you do bring something, does Cartman get to keep it?"

Kenny snorted, "Like we'd ever let that fat ass take our shit. Nah, usually if he gets first dibs it's enough to satisfy him."

"Do ya think Cartman will count my mom's cookies as a tribute? She wanted me ta bring some anyways," Butters gave Kenny a small smile as he folded up his list of supplies and put the note in his Chococat toiletry bag.

Kenny stood up from his perch and languidly walked towards his bed in order to pick up Butters' sleeping bag and pillow, putting them under the crook of each of his arms. "It's Cartman we're talking about. It doesn't matter that he isn't as fat as he was when he was a kid, he's still a fat ass at heart." He jerked his head towards the door, "Shall we, Butterscotch?"

Butters nodded and grabbed his toiletry and messenger bag. His hands seemed to be itching to knock against one another, but Butters looked like he was doing all he could to refrain from following through with this action, "I-I'm all set. I've always wondered what you fellas were up to on Friday nights. It's strange ta think that I'll get ta experience it first hand and..."

They took their time walking down the stairs as Butters kept rambling on and on about his excitement for tonight, and Kenny tried his best to stay attentive, but his mind would sometimes wander.

As soon as Kyle and Stan noticed Butters and Kenny, they hastily excused themselves and walked over to the two. Stan whispered, "Thank God you two came, Mr. Stotch was going to show us the Stotch family portraits-er, no offense Butters."

"Don't worry, Stan, none taken. I never liked 'em much either, to be honest," Butters smile looked rather forced, which Kenny thought understandable.

Every year, the Stotch family would take a cheesy family portrait. Butters was taught that it was tradition; whereas, Kenny thought it was just because the Stotch's wanted to keep up the appearance that they were a happy family. Everytime the three tried to get a picture taken, however, there was the tendency that something horribly went wrong for one or all of them. The worst incident involved a clown, a pedophile, and a puppet, but that was another story.

HONK!

The sudden noise caught the whole group's attention as the irritating sound of Cartman continuously pounding on the truck's horn reverberated throughout the room.

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation and Kenny heard Kyle grumble something along the lines of "you gotta be kidding me." Butters looked at his father with worry as it soon became apparent that Cartman's actions weren't ceasing. Kenny figured it probably wouldn't until they all hauled ass and got into his truck.

Kenny was quick to grab Stan and Kyle's attention, seeing as he was never good with getting on an adult's good side, for their help. Stan removed his hand from its perch and turned towards Mr. Stotch with an apologetic smile on his face, "Sorry about the noise, Mr. Stotch. Cartman's just getting impatient."

"He can't help acting like this," Kyle added. "He's mentally challenged."

Mr. Stotch's piercing stare unnerved the four, but his stern expression soon transitioned into a feigned smile, "It's all right boys, I completely understand. It's good of you to befriend people like him, but I'd like it if you would get him to quiet down. Linda's been under a lot of stress lately and I don't think this is helping." Stan and Kyle took it as their cue to roll up their sleeves and deal with Cartman.

He then directed his sole attention on Butters, "Lucky for you, your mother and I are looking forward to our night together without having to worry about you and your mischief, so I'll let this slide for once." He picked the plastic tub full of chocolate chip cookies off of the table and walked towards the the two, handing them to Butters. "Now go before I change my mind."

"Y-yes, s-sir."

Kenny gave the man a cold look as they passed by, but his hoodie and scarf hid the expression.

When Butters was out of his father's view, he finally dared to express his happiness over the final results of their visit to the Stotch household. This was because he no longer ran the risk of being grounded for 'making a funny face.'

Wordlessly, they collected their shoes once they reached the front door and slipped them on, but not bothering to tie the laces.

"B-bye, dad!" Butters waved to him timidly.

"Bye, son. Remember, if you do anything wrong, I'll be the first to find out," his smile sent shivers down Kenny's spine.

Despite the animosity he felt towards Mr. Stotch, he was sure to give a muffled goodbye.

Once clearing the porch, Kenny was perfectly prepared to hear Cartman's bitching. Butters', on the otherhand, almost dropped his things when Cartman suddenly asked irritably out the window, "What the fuck took you so long? I've been waiting here for at least twenty minutes!"

Kenny smiled wickedly at that. The gears in his brain quickly turned as he put the sleeping bag and pillow into the back of the truck. Once he finished, he walked up to the window of the passenger seat, which was halfway open, and rested his elbows on it, "Butters and I were a little busy in the bedroom." He gave Cartman a wink, "I'd say sorry, but you all know that I don't like to lie." With the flutter of his eyes, he finally added, "Care for the juicy details of our adventures as anal explorers?"

Cartman leaned back against his seat as he folded his arms with a brow raised, clearly unimpressed with his response.

"Well, I wouldn't really count what we did as explorin', Kenny," Butters added innocently as he climbed into the backseat of the truck.

Kenny took this as his cue to reclaim his rightful place at shotgun with his smirk widening. He glanced at the backseat of the truck noticing Butters' obliviousness to his implications and his friends' amusement. This was bound to get Cartman going.

"Please tell me you aren't being serious right now," Cartman shifted his body in such a way so that he looked at said boy properly, which was a difficult feat what with his heavy build.

"What?"

"You can't really be that fucking clueless."

"Come on Butters, tell them how I traversed into uncharted territory. A base where no man or woman has ever gone before," Kenny was having a difficult time keeping composure and it seemed the same could be said for Stan and Kyle.

Sometimes Butters' innocence was absolutely adorable. This was middle school humor, for God's sake, not some of the advanced shit he could duel out when given the right opportunity. Yet, Butters' couldn't put the pieces together for what he was implying.

"But Kenny, you go inta my room all of the time. My mom and dad also can come in and out of it whenever they want to, too. In fact, even Cartman, Bebe, and Wendy have gone in there more than once. And more people'd be allowed ta come if they didn't say 'no' ta my invite and-"

Sudden laughter drowned out the rest of what Butters was going to say. Kenny, Stan, and Kyle weren't able to hold in their amusement any longer, especially when Cartman looked, understandably, angrier and angrier as his disbelief over Butters' naivety grew after every word his peer said.

Said peer stared helplessly at the others, confusion written all over his face, "I-I don't understand why people visitin' me is so funny. Is it cuz my parents like to check up on me or interrupt what we're doin' or occasionally join in-"

"Butters."

"Y-yeah, C-Cartman?"

"Shut your damn mouth."


On the outskirts of South Park, a silent figure surveyed the daily activities of the townsfolk. His cold gaze observed the chaos brewing amongst its masses, all of which were oblivious to the danger that was drawing near.

All of them were like a flock of sheep being herded into a slaughterhouse: ignorant of their upcoming demise.

It wouldn't be long now.


AN: I want to warn you that the the lead up to the Zombie Apocalypse will be similar to the manga series "I am a Hero", meaning it'll be a slow but necessary lead up to it, but once shit hits the fan, chaos quickly ensues.

Also, after Chapter 5, the chapters should become much shorter, which will allow for quicker updates. I just have lot of events I need to get through before I can narrow down what's in each chapter.

(Spoiler: the Expected Due Date of the apocalypse will be by the end of Chapter 3)