"...and these children that you spit on, as they try to change their worlds are immune to your consultations. They're quite aware of what they're going through..."

-David Bowie

Light only shown through one window in the entire house. The flickering blue and white hues illuminated out into the night from that third story window; if it weren't for this one source of light, one might think South Park was a ghost town. There were not supposed to be lights on at this hour, unnecessary attention would not be welcomed. But nonetheless, leave it to Kenny McCormick himself not to follow the rules.

He laid sprawled out on the full sized bed, covers disheveled and beer cans on every flat surface in the room. Kenny stared blankly at the massive flat screen TV mounted on the wall in front of him. If it weren't for the TV, the room would have been pitch black, just like the rest of the rooms in the mansion.

The screen showed as John Bender, played by Judd Nelson, walked through the empty football field as he raises his fist in the air.

Kenny knew the movie by heart, he's seen it enough times by now.

"But what we found out is that each one of us is a brain," Kenny mouthed along while maintaining his blank disposition, "and an athlete, and a basket case, and a princess, and a criminal."

"…And a fatass, a Jew, a pansy…" he paused to take a swig from the bottle he found in his hand, "and a loser."

And the picture dimmed while the credits rolled in the background.

If it were only a few months prior, Kenny would not have been able to quote the movie so keenly, but seeing that the only DVDs he's been able to find in that labyrinth of a house had either Molly Ringwald or Anthony Hall featured in it… Let's just say Kenny has both The Breakfast Club and 16 Candles committed to memory.

He continued staring at the high definition display until the copyright warnings popped up and the DVD skipped to the main menu.

With a clank Kenny dropped his now-empty bottle onto the ground with the others and reached for the remote to turn off the DVD player.

His torso hurt as he sat up and hunched over. His limbs hurt. His head hurt.

Successfully reaching the remote, Kenny flicked the player off and he was left with an empty blue screen staring back at him. The last lines from the movie were playing over and over in his head, as well as the ones he added himself.

Labels. They're useless, Kenny somehow managed to deduce through his wasted state. The Breakfast Club was one of those movies though, based on teenagers for teenagers, to teach them that everyone has their own personal problems and that it's okay to have them.

"Fuck problems," Kenny huffed as he threw the remote across the room.

What problems did those kids even have, Kenny thought as he rubbed his temples. Bullshit.

A fatass and a Jew, his friends were indeed, but Kenny didn't really think Stan was a pansy. He was a nice person and he could be tough when he wanted, but Ken deemed Marsh too emotional to claim any other label that came to mind.

Kenny was a loser. At least, he truly believed so himself. He was useless; scum. He could be out helping the others, but no, instead Ken had isolated himself yet again, just to watch petty movies and drink.

"Fuck the others."

He could hear a ruckus coming from outside his closed and locked door, only to be the product of an enormous fatass climbing his way up the stairs.

"Kenny!" Cartman's nasally voice called, "Kenny wake the fuck up and get the hell down here before I kick you in the balls!"

And just like that, he stampeded his way back down the stairs.

The blonde ratty-haired boy laid there on his soiled covers for quite some time before even considering getting up. When he did stand up a wave of nausea rushed over him.

Clenching his stomach with one hand and rubbing his eyes with the other, Kenny stumbled over to turn off the television and then onward to the door. After unlocking it, he stepped out and attempted to find his footing as he made way down the 2 flights of stairs.

Despite the outward appearance of the house, the first level of Token's mansion was extraordinarily bright.

Kenny stepped into the room that held what looked like the surface of the sun and shielded his eyes.

"Kenny!" Kyle called out.

Stan looked up from a box he was rummaging in, "oh hey, Ken."

Ignoring the friendly greetings, Kenny found himself a chair and slumped into it.

From the darkened hallway came Token followed by Cartman, "I told you I got him out of that room. You owe me cheesy poofs."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll get your cheese poofs later," Token replied only half-mannered after seeing that for once, the dumbass finally did something right.

"They're called cheesy poof-" Cartman got cut off as Clyde Donovan ran past, pushing him to the side, "AYE!"

"Kenny!" Clyde exclaimed most enthusiastically as he took a seat next to the exhausted-looking Kenny.

Token walked up and stopped in front of them.

"Yes, Kenny," he began while eyeing Clyde for his rambunctiousness, "I've been wanting to talk to you about something."

This conversation was inevitable, Kenny supposed. He already knows what is going to be said, how Token is about to put down the law.

Token crossed his arms and shifted his weight in hopes to get more of Kenny's attention, seeing that he looked very far away in that exact moment.

"Ken, I think it's about time for you to start pulling your own weight around here."

And boom goes the dynamite.

It was obvious not only to Kenny, but to the rest of the group. He was the useless tagalong. There was nothing that Kenny ever did to help suppor- his train of thought was thrown off as he heard a gun being cocked.

He quickly looked up only to find, in his dazed state, Stan reloading his shotgun.

Oh yeah, he barely comprehended, everyone has a gun now.

Stan, noticing he startled Kenny with the sudden noise, apologized, "oh shit, sorry Ken. I was looking for the Ak-47 ammo and-"

"Its fine, Stan." Kenny slurred, rubbing his temples again, "Why is it so fuckin bright in here."

Token snapped his fingers, "that reminds me; you can't keep using the electricity whenever you want to. It's not fair to the rest of us, and it's dangerous."

Kenny grunted in response. He knew these things, he just didn't care.

"We keep the lights on in here because this is where the weapons are stashed and we don't want them being shot off in the dark."

Kenny grunted again.

Clyde, who was listening rather intently, gently shook Kenny by his shoulder, "oh lighten up, Ken!"

The dirty-blonde boy shot his eyes open and glared at Clyde.

"Lighten up. LIGHTEN UP?!" Kenny stood up abruptly and knocked his chair back, "EVERYONE I KNOW IS DEAD. EVERYONE YOU KNOW IS DEAD. HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO LIGHTEN UP WHEN THERE'S ABSOLUTELY NO POIN-"

The rush of adrenaline hit Kenny like a fist in the face as he fell to the ground.

Everything went black, cold, and silent.

Kenny's last thoughts that night were self-pity and remorse. He felt bad not doing anything around the house, but his points were valid.

Everyone they knew, in fact, were dead.

Dead, and walking.

It's been 6 months and they were just a bunch of kids left to fend for themselves against the elements.

Kenny wasn't sure how much more he could endure of it.