Kenny has always been my favorite character in South Park and after watching three of the episode that had Mysterion in them I decided to write this. Hope you like.

The Auto Biography of Kenneth McCormick

Chapter 1: Birth

Hey. I'm Kenny, but you already know that. Anyway, this is an account of my life, from my first breath to my death…naw I'm just kidding. This begins with my birth and may never end because I can't stay dead, no matter how much I wish I could.

So... thanks to my mother, who is much saner then my father but not by much, told me of my birth.

My mother was sixteen when she had me, my father was seventeen. At the time of my mother being pregnant with me she had already had a child, Kevin who was two at the time. But Kevin isn't important right now.

So well my mother was pregnant with me, she and my father were in the cult of Cthulhu, boy was dealing with that guy annoying. I would come to fight the real breathing Cthulhu at a later point in my life, and boy was it annoying the first time.

So anyway, the cult leader, who's name I never learned, offered my mother about five months' worth of beer if he was allowed to try and channel the demon spirit of Cthulhu through her unborn baby AKA me. Two things sadden me about this, one that my mother was still drinking well pregnant, that might explain why I'm so…different as I like to say. And the second thing that saddened me was that she said yes.

From what my mother told me, the cult leader drew some messed up symbols on my mother's belly. These symbols where blood, or so I've been told. Five other cultists chanted a dead, evil language from the cults messed up bible, the Necronomicon.

My mother told me it burned. Burned like something…unholy. The pain was so bad that she cried, in turn she didn't cry when she was giving birth to me, she didn't cry when my sister was born either. The burning was very painful.

The cult leader smiled at my mother in that douchebag way that he smiled at me ten years later.

Sorry getting off topic… the cult leader told my mother that he'd have to see the child once it was born.

My mother told me that she had nightmares after this event, nightmare about what might happen to her child. Five months later just as she had ran out of booze, I was born.

From what I'm told, I was silent baby when I was born. I shed no tears and cried not once.

I was taken home and lived the lifestyle of a redneck child. Nothing much interesting happened in my early years, I learned to walk, talk, and potty at a normal rate.

One thing that might have made me different was the fact that there was Playboy magazines all over the house, and even if my mother or father saw me reading them they didn't take them away and say this is big people stuff, they'd just let me look at the wrong images. Might be why I'm just a perv.

So finally we arrive at something I can remember, it was when I was two. My mother was reluctant to let the cult leader see me on account of the fact that she and my father had gone to jail because of simply being in the cult.

But she let him in.

The 'tests' where stupid, so so stupid. He threw a brick at me for god's sake, that was simply to see if I felt pain like a mortal, and one thing I can tell you is this, I sure as hell do.

Luckily the brick didn't kill me, it did break a couple of bones, as they were very weak. Don't worry; I kind of balanced it out because I drank an odd amount of milk.

Anyways, he tested to see how I reacted to death, by killing my pet dog. I cried like, well, a two year old. After more stupid tests he finally decided that I was no different than any other baby in South Park. Boy was he wrong.

You know, I feel as if I should drag this out much longer, but you know births aren't long, well… long to write is better to say.

What the cult leader didn't know was that I was slightly different, even when not counting my curse. The following day my broken bones were fixed and I was toddling along like a toddler.