Last night was fucking lit. I dove into a crowd of drunk strangers, probably got laid more than once, and who knows what ever god forbidden concoctions I snorted up my nose. I'm not even gonna question what type of STDs I probably ended up with last night because all the ass I got was fucking worth it.

But I woke up this morning with a hangover over from hell, and I could taste the lava pits erupting from my tongue everytime I swallowed saliva. Most likely a result of having swallowed a cigarette but we'll find out in 8 hours.

I casually trudged my way to the local bus stop I rode since I was a kid. It's been years since I rode the bus without being stoned but hey at least I'm not dead.

Heh. That expression is almost hilarious because I die every day.

Stan Marsh eyed me seeming to have notice me chuckle into my internal monologue. He let a smile spread across his face probably due to pity as he strode a few feet closer to me.

"Damn dude, you look dead." He chuckled, as I nod my head in agreement. I looked like a fucking zombie, my eyes almost glued shut from the weight of whatever has drained my health.

"Token throws the best parties." I smirk in response.

Stan laughed amused by my enthusiastic response despite my state of being. "I'm pretty sure it went far from his control once strangers began to show up."

Probably my fault, being the party animal as I was I managed to know alot of fun people from experience.

I hear Butters Stotch laugh at a video through his phone, joining our duo enthusiastically. "Hey fellas! Did you see the new video online, panda goes completely psycho he chases everyone with an axe. Token's party is all over the internet!"

"The panda was my guy." I brag lifting my hands in triumph.

"Dude, you got the sexual harassment panda stoned at the party? That was you?" Stan scoffed in disbelief.

I may have been dead during the time that the sexual harassment panda showed up at our elementary schools, but I knew a guy who knew a guy.

Just as Butters began praising me like I'm some kind of party god, Kyle Broflovski shows up with his bag over his shoulder; having showed up just in time to hear snippets of our conversation.

"Kenny you really need to stop partying." Kyle began. "It's irresponsible and not good for your health."

Almost in the nick of time, like fate has them paired up like Terrance and Phillip in an Earth space show comedic gag, Eric Cartman shows up behind Kyle.

"It's so like Jews to want to preach their ways unto the poor people who can't help their crave for weed."

Kyle answers before I can retort Eric's comment about my economic status. "His status has nothing to do with his life choices fatass. I'm pretty sure Craig has smoked crazier things than Kenny has by now."

That's an understatement. Craig is usually always in the mood to smoke a few rolls and bone a few hoes, so it wouldn't surprise me if he'd done a few other things that I haven't been aware of.

"You need to stop hanging out with that asshole by the way dude, he's bad news." Kyle mentioned.

"He's cool tho." I say between picking some unknown substance from my ear in the process.

"See what I mean Kahl, Kenny can't even afford to shower he probably sucks Craig's dick to get the good stuff."

I laugh and wink at Kyle too stoned to have processed Eric's insult. "Yeah he has a monster cock."

Kyle looks mortified.

"Dude guys it doesn't matter let Kenny be Kenny." Stan shrugged.

"He's immortal anyway, you'd be surprised he's not dead yet."

Ha.

As the bus approaches Kyle storms unto it angrily.

"Fine, if you don't care how the people around you feel go ahead. Slowly kill yourself."

I was way too astonished to have let out another death joke into my internal monologue. Kyle and I were never close, but for some reason Kyle always cared about everyone he hung out with. He even deep down cares for that fatass underneath all the dispute and debate of their differences. I always never appreciated his speeches he gave out that usually were always right.

I wish I was alive during most of them.

I hop on the bus after everyone else on the bus boarded, immediately taking my usual seat next to Craig; Tweek and Clyde parallel next to us.

Before it used to always be those three plus Token, but since High school began I hung out with Craig almost all the time which of course made me a bridge between our quartet and theirs much to Kyle's dismay and whatever small friendship we had definitely became miniscule now.

But he still cared about me.

His voice echoing in my head seemed to be sobering me up as I was able to open my eyes a little wider now, eyeing up Craig's hatless figure, as he spinned it around in his hand. Much to me being open in terms of sexuality -him and I have engaged in threesomes together just for the record- Craig having a monster cock was sort of an estimation. During the times we did fuck a girl together we vowed to only focus on the girl and respect eachother's level of privacy. Though I didn't mind Craig jerking me off, he would blow his shit if I was to even eye his member. So I had to close my eyes during the times we did have to touch eachother.

"Dude, you smell like shit." Craig broke the five minute of silence between us during the bus ride.

"We came home 30 minutes ago, I didn't have time for the Russian shower." I smirked.

Craig scoffed and chuckled at the same time drowning me in his axe almost like a father looking out for his son. "Girls dig the lumberjack smell."

I breath more than laugh, and Craig has to slap the cough out of my smoke infested lungs.

I breeze through the first 3 periods by covering my face with my parka, muffling random shit and Stan covering me somehow by pretending he could understand me. Him having almost all periods with me, was like a match appointed to me from heaven. God blessing me since that time I managed to win the match between Heaven and Hell, despite nobody letting me fucking pass on. The life of a stoner is so much more easier when you have someone like Stan around to help a brother out.

Thank God I only have physical education with that tub of lard, him ripping on me wasn't gonna help me get through hangover hell.

By the time I reached 7th period, which was science, I was completely sober I was sweating like a pig under my parka. Not having showered was definitely something I definitely regretted, and axe over B.O, alcohol, vomit and weed isn't a great combination.

Entering the lab room I quickly dashed to the washing station clearly meant for chemical spills, I gave zero fucks, undressed myself and stood under the water and sprayed the cold water unto my half naked body.

God it was almost as good as sex.

I heard a few snickers, and heard a familiar boyish deep voice shout.

"Kenny oh my god!" Kyle stood 5 feet away, his desk being fatefully right next to the shower.

I had a quick urge to cover my abdomen but then felt my shameless personality return to me. "What? Not like you haven't seen me naked before."

Kyle refused to remove his textbook from his face, not having been reassured by me. "You're in a class room, not cool dude!"

"Kenneth McCormick." Our round and bearded science teacher entered the scene, his eyeballs almost popping from his face. "What do you think you're doing?!"

"Showering."

Everyone laughed in response to my risqué remark. But it didn't sit well with the teacher, him sending me straight to the office.

"Tucker you too. Do you think this is funny?"

"Yeah."

I laugh as well, as Craig tossed my pants at me, flipping the science teacher off and leading the way to the principal's office.

"Dude, it's kind of cute how you automatically knew where u had to go when u flipped him off." I wrap my arm around him. "Or you wanted to be alone with me after seeing my naked flesh." I wink.

Craig scoffs. "I've seen your dick dude, what is there to fangirl about."

"I still fangirl over that anaconda of yours." I gesture to his pants.

Craig flips me off. "Watch it Mccormick."

"Are you gonna punish me daddy?"

He softly punches me in the dick, hard enough to ache but not bad enough to have me crying. But he scoffs amused. I mean, when you have a 9 inch bazooka who wouldn't be flattered.

As much as I wish I had a 10 inch penis, Craig will always be fucking daddy.

But enough gawking over Craig's manhood, I honestly had enough sex to last me a life time - or kill me by sundown. I'd take a huge fucking nap when I get home.

The principal kept us long and hard having discovered about the party last night and questioning us if it was up to P.C principle. Of course Craig's stoicism kept us from giving away guilt, but Craig made him believe I didn't have plumbing in my house because I was poor as hell. Which is semi-true, it's toiletries we sometimes can't afford and leads to limited quantities.

Which is why Craig spraying me with axe meant alot to me. Soap doesn't leave a scent, and like he said, a man's musk is his greatest asset to dropping panties.

After making us sign a waiver that we had only consensual sex, Craig and I headed for the door and P.C principal stopped me in my tracks.

"Kenneth McCormick I need another 5 minutes with you." He pulled his Oakleys down the bridge of his nose, the waiver still in his hand.

I take a deep breath. "I swear to god it was only once, but she had a Unicorn mask stuck on her head and I couldn't hear her consent properly."

P.C principal stared at me blankly. "I appreciate your honesty, it was very P.C of you. But that's not the case here Kenneth." He pulls out some files.

I've been looking at your grades and conduct and it seems you fail almost every exam, despite reports that you listen in class and turn in work. At this rate if you continue to fail the rest of your tests, and don't fix your conduct of breaking school guidelines, you won't be able to graduate and lead a P.C life. Care to explain your reasons?"

That's actually something that may not be in my control. You see, when I die, I don't remember what ever I fucking learned. It's odd, like I can remember how I died, and major events, but I can't remember the small things.

Like when Kyle asked me to study with him at Stan's house, and didn't talk to me for a week for not remembering. He probably has this insecurity that I blow them off for Craig to do what ever obscenity, and I'm too stoned to remember.

For some reason, to think that Kyle pities me as this fucked up of a human, gives me this deep embarrassment in the pit of my stomach.

Why can't I just stay dead.

"Kenneth?"

PC principal breaks my chain of thought.

I sigh. "Look, my house life isn't all that great so of course studying at home isn't the best place."

"What about study hall."

I skip it.

"Not enough time." I sigh pitifully.

P.C principal thinks deeply for a moment before continuing. "Very well. I might have a solution. Have you heard of the buddy system?"

"What like hold hands with someone so you don't get lost?"

"Same concept." He answers. "But in high school we have this new program to have students with unfortunate situations be partnered up with someone with a more fortunate situation, and have them benefit from each-other." He hands me something else to sign. "Usually we find a straight A student who has something they can benefit from you, meanwhile that educationally advanced kid could help you in your ability to graduate. Basically you're holding hands so you both make it to the finish line "

I eye him, feeling like he immediately has someone to pair me up with. I sigh and sign hoping I get someone with a hot sister.

"Now about the Unicorn sex..."

I know I know this is the zillionth fanfic I started and can not garuntee consistent updates. But bare with me because I'm honestly trying to get everything updated, and have plans for this new fanfic I swear!

Thanks for reading :3