An Author's note: Ah, my first South Park fanfic. I don't own the rights to South Park or any other brand name type things you see here (aka Metamucil).
Prologue
"Come one you guys! Hold it!"
Kyle Broflovski groaned and rolled his eyes in exasperation as he tightened his grip around the brown fur of a poor little stray dog. He was still not sure how Eric Cartman had managed to convince his three "friends" to come out here in the middle of the frosty night on the banks of the pond apprehending a little dog, but here they were.
"What, exactly, are we doing, fatass?" Kyle growled as the dog's blunt claws scratched his left leg. "Ouch! Stop that!"
"Just a second Jew, let me get the…equipment." Cartman grinned and started pawing around in a duffle bag.
"Oh no, not again." Stan muttered. "If this is going to be like that Red Rocket thing…"
"Dude! It's nothing like that." Cartman said "Ah, here we go! Mettymoosel!"
"Mettymoosel?"
The actually words on the cylinder read "Metamucil" but Mettymoosel was how Cartman pronounced it. Kyle, Stan and Kenny stared at it with puzzled expressions on their faces.
Cartman sighed. "Look you guys, it's very simple. This Mettymoosel makes you crap-"
"It makes you crap? How?" Stan's eyes widened.
"Be quiet and let me explain! Anyway, we're going to feed this stuff to the dog. Then we'll stuff the crap into this paper bag" Cartman held up a paper bag "and then we are going to put it on someone's porch, maybe Mr. Mackey or Garrison or someone else we hate, light it on fire and ring the doorbell!"
A long silence.
"Cartman! That is the oldest prank in the book! It's even older than my grandpa!" Stan said.
"I know that! But it's still brilliant! Just think you guys, with this we will be contributing to a tradition that has been an important part of American society since time immortal! Our parents, grandparents and probably even our great-grandparents preformed this noble act long ago, and no it is up to us to continue the tradition. Now, all I have to do is mix the stuff with this ground beef here…"
"He's run out of ideas, hasn't he?" Stan muttered darkly to Kyle, who was rolling his eyes.
Just then the dog finally found the right way to get loose from Kyle, whether by accident or design we will never know, but thing's hind legs kicked outwards and caught Kyle right in the place where neither man nor boy wants to be kicked.
Kyle cursed and his hands flew to the offending area. The dog, realizing freedom was nigh, charged off into the forest.
"Dammit Jew! Why'd you let go of the dog!"
"He kicked me in the balls! What was I supposed to do?"
"Hold on to it?"
"After it kicked my-"
"Stop arguing; let's just go find the dog." Stan said.
"NO!" Cartman bellowed. "No…he's going to find the dog." He pointed at Kyle.
"No way."
"What's the matter, scared?" Cartman taunted.
Kyle gritted his teeth.
About ten minutes later, after much grumbling and protesting and promises to make Cartman pay, Kyle found himself walking around in the woods whistling for the dog. He was freezing and wet from the snow, and was not in a cheerful and pleasant mood at all.
He came to a clearing and noticed something brown and lumpy on the ground. Closer inspection revealed it to be a nice, big, fresh looking turd. Kyle sighed in relef. Maybe he could just gather up this big turd and take it back to his friends. It was what they were out here for anyway. Why not skip the middle man (or dog) when there was a pile they could use right here?
Grimacing, even though this was not his first time to pick up poo, Kyle bent down to scoop it up. Something growled at him from the trees.
He looked up and saw a pair of yellow eyes glaring at him. Eyes that where very, very high up. Too high to be a dog or even a wolf. Bear, his mind said. Back away slowly.
The thing lunged at him.
And it was not a bear.
Stan was just wondering what exactly frostbite felt like when they heard the screaming.
"Kyle!" He bellowed and started running towards the sound, Kenny right behind him. Cartman followed as well, but at a safer distance. From the sound of it Kyle had been attacked by something, and while Cartman really thought it would be fun to see the Jew torn limb from limb, he was not eager to experience the same thing firsthand.
Stan bust into the clearing and froze. There was Kyle huddled on the ground in a bloody heap. Stan saw huge tracks all around the clearing and guessed they might be bear tracks. He managed to catch a glimpse of something big and hairy running thorough the trees, but thankfully it was running away from them.
"Kyle…" he whispered as he stared at his friend's body "Oh please don't be dead Kyle."
A/N: Now, please tell me what you think?
