title ; Velcro

disclaimer I ; I don't own South Park.

disclaimer II ; I do own the idea seen here and all that lovely stuff.

author's note ; Another thought while in the shower. Don't know how many chapters it will be, but it will be a major love triangle between Pip, Damien, and Kenny. I have half the story plotted and I'm writing it now, while its fresh in my head. This is simply the introduction chapter, and the others will be longer.

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He would have imagined death as something more personal. Perhaps taken in old age, or something that happened to far away people in far away places. Uganda and Peru and Botswana. Places he had never heard of, and wasn't sure how he suddenly knew them. Death happened to old people in hospitals. Not to people like him, people who did good in school and had so much ahead of him. People with hopes and dreams.

Death had never been something on his ten year old mind, and he wasn't sure he wanted it to be on at that particular moment, but with a giant metal foot coming down at you from above, your first thought of many would be, "Oh, bugger, I'm do believe I'm going to die." It certainly crossed his mind as Mecha-Streisand's new and improved foot blotted out the sun, dimly reminding him of that hideous movie about three-hundred men wearing nothing but their underwear -

Chances were, this event would not have happened if he had just stayed quiet and run away like everyone else. His caring, gentle nature always got the best of him. He thought, perhaps, if someone tried to speak with the rampaging, mechanical lizard, then perhaps she would see the errors of her way and simply leave them alone. Crazier things had happened. Such as the sensation of being crushed from the top down, like a soda can beneath a boot. A cold, metal boot and ten tons of machinery. Feeling bones pop out of place, knowing your last seconds were spent contemplating the validity of a valiant death, and the only mark you would leave on this world was the bloodstain in the pavement they would rip up in several years anyway.

All of it could have been avoided if he hadn't said those simple words.

"Cherri-hoh! My name is Pip. I would like to see if you wouldn't mind not smashing our village home to bits?"

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Falling through the layers of hell, he began to wonder when it would end. The constant screaming, the heavy metal playing in his head, the people grabbing at him and asking for help, it was all a bit much, didn't one think? He hated telling people he couldn't help, or that he didn't know something. Then, just as he was about to sigh deeply and ask someone for a time frame, his feet touched down on fire and brimstone itself, hot to the touch. Stumbling forward from the sudden lurch in position, he coughed. At least that persistent, irritating cacophony of noises had finally gone away.

Righting himself, he patted down his vest, tugging his favorite Gatsby hat down. His eyes scanned the surroundings, though he found nothing of particular interest. Everything either shone brilliant red or deep black. Hell certainly wasn't a cheerful place, but that wouldn't get his spirits down. Instead, he simply took it all in good humor, a smile on his wary face. As he walked towards a seemingly inhabited place, he heard a familiar voice call out to him. Certainly, none of his other friends had perished under the foot of Mecha-Streisand. Had they met such a fate, they certainly wouldn't seek his company out.

Turning in circles to find the voice, he called out, "Yes? Who is it?"

"It is you, Pip!" the far-away voice called in high-pitched excitement.

Biting his lip, he turned towards the voice, his vision suddenly consumed with a pale face framed in black hair. Squeaking in surprise, he fell back onto his rear, looking up at the figure he thought to be several dozen yards away, rather than immediately next to him. Recognition dawned on his startled face and a smile crept across his lips. "Oh, Damien! Why, it is ever so much of a pleasure to see you again," he said cheerily.

Damien pulled Pip to his feet, looking the shorter boy up and down. "So, you're not upset?" he asked.

Pip frowned, as if thinking. "What ever would I have to be upset about, good chap?"

Damien almost opened his mouth, almost asked about the incident at Cartman's birthday party, but instead chose to shrug it off. If Pip didn't remember, then it would be silly to bring it up and perhaps ruin the chances of a playmate in Hell. "Never mind," he answered. "If you don't mind, how did you get here?"

"Oh, it was terrible," Pip sighed. "I was stepped on by Mecha-Streisand."

"That sounds painful," Damien sympathized dully.

"Oh, one would imagine so, yes," Pip explained, nodding. "Quite the uncomfortable experience, though I'm alright now." Pip gave Damien a cheerful smile, though after a second, realized he had lied. "Oh, besides the dead part, of course. I'm quite fine, despite the dead part."

Damien motioned for Pip to follow him. "Lets go to the grand tour," he said, bringing Pip to a small out-hang over a bowl-shaped valley. "Most people think Hell is uncomfortable, but its just a red version of the life you live up there. See, over there is a strip mall. And there, is the I-Hop. Oh, and there's the library."

"There's a library in Hell?"

"Of course there is. My father is building a movie theater, too," Damien said simply.

"Oh, just smashing," Pip exclaimed happily. "I do believe this is far better than anything I've done in life."

Snapping his fingers, a cigarette appeared in Damien's mouth. "It's not that great," he said, puffing smoke out.

"Oh, you smoke?" Pip asked.

"You don't?"

"I never had the chance," Pip said defensively. "I'm sure I would have done it soon enough." Furrowing his eyebrows, he stared at the stick hanging between Damien's lips. "What is it like?"

Handing the British boy the cigarette, Damien laughed. "Try for yourself."

Pip almost refused, putting his hands up, but found himself grabbing the cancer stick and putting it between his teeth. Sucking on it tentatively, he felt his eyes water. Smoke filled his lungs and he felt as if he were suffocating. Quickly handing the cigarette back, he coughed, hitting himself in the chest as tears streamed down his face. After several moments of a coughing fit and listening to Damien laugh, Pip looked up. "Why, that's horrible!" he said hoarsely. "How could you possibly do that?"

Taking a long drag, Damien blew smoke rings. "It's an acquired habit."

"I can see that now," Pip said. "Are there more things to do in Hell than smoke? I do hope so."

Damien shrugged. "If you enjoy torturing people, I suppose there are."

"No, I don't enjoy torturing people!" Pip cried. "That's barbaric!"

"Suit yourself, Pip, though you better get used to it sometime. You're friends with the son of the Prince of Darkness now. My interests are now yours." Damien gave him a cocked smile, enjoying his subtle mind games far too much. "You will indulge me, wont you Pip?"

"I do suppose so," Pip answered, seeing no other option.

Wrapping his arm around the boy, Damien grinned. "That's a good Pip."

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finishing note ; If I don't get a few reviews, I wont be updating this story. I need encouragement and inspiration from my readers to know I'm doing something right. It would mean a lot and make me very happy if you took a few seconds to say "I enjoyed this" or something similar.