"Fuuuck, I'm so bored dude," Cylde complained as he smacked his head back on the bed post.

"Dude, shut up, I'm trying to watch Rick and Morty," Craig hushed him, with his eyes glued to the screen. "Maybe if you didn't bitch all the time, you wouldn't be so bored," He followed up. "Maybe if your voice wasn't so nasally, maybe you wouldn't be so boring," Clyde fought back as a couple of "ohhh," and "OH SHIT"'s echoed the room.

"You know what, I'm so sick of your shit. I will fuck you up play-boi," Craig responded. "Yea, but I bet you don't have the balls to do it, bitch-boy," Token followed in Clyde's defense. "Well, I've got more balls than Clyde, literally, so I do bitch" Craig fired as another series of "ohhh" and "SHIT!" echoed the room.

"Wait, so does that mean that Craig has three testicles, as Clyde has the standard two pack?" Butters jumped in. "No dumbass, Clyde only has one nut remember?" Token told him. "Why would Clyde only have one little fella while the rest of us has the standard two?" said Butters.

"Butters, you're overthinking it," Craig pointed at Butters. "And Clyde, you're a little bitch,"

"Oh yea, and your a big bitch,"

"Bitch, I will mess you up,"

"Bitch, I'll go Tyler Durtan on your ass,"

"Bitch, I'll go Bruce Willis on you,"

"Bitch, I'll go Samuel L. Jackson on your motherfucking ass you motherfuckering bitch-fuck ass bitch,"

"What?" Butters whispered across the room with a blank face. "Samuel L. Jackson, know him. Pulp Fiction, Snakes on a Plane, Djengo?"

"ummm, what?"

"So you never heard of Sammuel L. Jackson before?" Clyde asked.

"Umm, does this have something to do with you only having one testicle?" Butters said, as a heat of frustration and furious anger engulfed him as he pulls out a hand gun and shoots and kills Kenny.

"Oh my God! you killed Kenny!" Kyle exclaimed.

"You Basterd!" Stan followed up as the whole room breaks out in panic as Clyde draws nearer to Butters, who is nevervously shaking and panicking as Clyde points the gun at him.

"Oh I'm sorry, did I break your concentration? I didn't mean to do that. Please, continue," Clyde suggested in a very warm and tendered voice, as Butters silently shook in his chair nervously.

"You were something about, me having only one testicle? Well what's the matter?" Butters tries to respond, but only a bunch of muffled gibberish comes out. There was a silence that pierced the room with intensity and striked fear into their hearts and minds.

"Oh! You were finished! Well, allow me to retort," Clyde takes a short pause as he draws nearer to Butters. His composure was calm yet menacing, endearing yet intimidating, direct yet unpredictable, and all so charming, but evil.

"Now Butters. What does Sammuel L. Jackson look like?" Clyde asked, innocently.

"...I-uhh, huh?" He replied, scared and confused. As the words travled out of his mouth to Clyde's ears, he snaps and knocks over a table sending a room in a frenzy. They rush to get out but Clyde shoots his gun, and everyone is again shocked in silence. Until Kyle stood up and tried to console him. "Hey Clyde buddy? I don't mean to interfere, but can yo-"

"I DIDN'T ASK YOU A GODDAMN THING," He interrupts, as Kyle just cautiously sits back down.

"Now Butters...what does Samuel L. Jackson look like?" He asks him in a some- what more, gentle voice.

"Uhh, uhh...What?" At this point, Clyde has had enough of his rambling and fires a couple of more warning shots, and gets everyone else to clear the room so it's just him and Butters.

"'WHAT AINT NO COUNTRY I EVER HEARD OF, DO THEY SPEAK ENGLISH IN 'WHAT?"

"Wu-wu-what?"

"ENGLISH MOTHERFUCKER, DO YOU SPEAK IT?"

"YES!" Butters exclaimed.

"THEN YOU KNOW WHAT I AM SAYING,"

"YES,"

"THEN DESCRIBE, WHAT SAMMUEL L. JACKSON, LOOKS LIKE!" Clyde demanded, holding the gun closer to Butter's paper white face.

"W-wu-well, he's black,"

"Go on,"

"He's bald!"

"Does he look like a bitch?" Clyde asked him in the calm voice again.

"Uhh-maaa, What?" He is then interrupted by a gunshot right to the arm as he screams in pain.

"DOES HE LOOK, LIKE A BITCH?"

"HAMBURGERS, NO!"

"THEN WHY DID YOU TRY TO FUCK HIM LIKE A BITCH!?"

"NO I DID-!"

"YES YOU DID! YES YOU DID! AND MR. JACKSON DOESNT LIKE TO BE FUCKED BY ANYONE, UNLESS IF IT WAS BY MRS. JACKSON," Clyde interrupted, creating a brief silence.

"...Butters, do you read the Bible?" He asked him in a sedated tone.

"Y-Yes!" He stamerred.

"Well, there's this passage I got memorized, Ezekiel 25:17. It goes like this; ' The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he, who in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children..." Clyde started, more composed than ever.

"AND I WILL STRIKE DOWN UPON THEE I GREAT VENGENCE, AND FURRIOUS ANGER THOSE YOU WOULD ATTEMPT TO POISON AND DESTROY MY BROTHERS, AN-",

WACK!

"...You shall know my name is the lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee, you dirty but hole," He said, as he was grabbing his crotch in pain and agony as he lied down defeated.

"Butters...you shot me in the dick," Clyde moaned. Everyone heard the gunshot as they all went rushing to the scene again to see that Butters shot Clyde in the dick.

"Butters, did you shoot him in the dick?!" Cartman asked him.

"Well, he was-,"

"It doesn't matter what he did, you don't shoot a guy in the dick Butters. That's just not cool dude," Stan said as Butters gaped in disbelief to their reaction to he situation.

"But he killed Kenny, he's a bastard,"

"Yeah but that does mean you shoot him in the dick," Cartman followed up.

"B-but, he was all lik-,"

"Dude, it was a prank. He used an airsoft gun and we did this whole thing just to mess with you because we thought it was funny, but you had to be a total bitch about it and shoot him right in the dick!"Cartman explained to him. "Yeah Butters...what the actual fuck man!" Clyde tossed and turned.

"But why?!" Butters asked.

"Why not?" Kyle answered. "Where did you get that gun from anyway?" Stan asked him.

"Uncle Jimbo gave it to me cause he heard you guys doing this, an he put this in my shirt, and I just, I-I don't know he said it would be funny!" Butters said as Stan sighed and shook his head.

"Dude, this is pretty fucked up right here...I can't believe you shot him in the dick," Stan followed up.

"I THOUGHT HE WAS GONNA KIL-,"

"I really don't care Butters. You see, I've learned something today. As we can be confronted by all the troubles and unexpected hardships of life, we start to show sides of ourselves we never showed off before. And by watching how crazy you went, Watching you just, shoot people in the dick like that... Just made me realize how undignified those sides of us can be. But no matter what the circumstances, you wanna know the truth. Truth is, I'd rather us be dead, than an unethical dickshooter..." Cartman preached as everyone shook their heads in agreement.

"Well...sorry?" Butters vainly apologized.

"It's not okay, we are gonna take Clyde to the emergency room. And then, we are gonna go to Dairy Queen to get ice cream and you can't come!" Stan proclaimed followed by a series of "yeah!" and "yea, fuck you Butters"'s as they everyone left Butters alone.

As everyone left, he just walked home in confusion, yet relief that nothing bad really happened. He just went home pretty unaffected, but he had to settle down. But I was kidna playing along to, I just got nervous as he pulled out the gun and um, well...ah forget it. I'm just gonna go home, kick back, relax, and watch some good ol Pulp Fiction to get my mind off of this crazy mess.