Ding-dong!

"Oh, Gerald, the guests arriving! Hurry up, get the door!"

"Coming, honey!"

As Sheila Broflovski was finishing setting up the snacks at the refreshment table, Gerald came in from the kitchen and opened the door. "Randy! Sharon! Glad you could make it!"

"Oh, wouldn't miss it for the world," Sharon said, as Gerald took her and her husband's coats. Stan and his sister Shelley followed them inside.

"Is Kyle around?"

"Uh, you know, I actually haven't seen him in a while---Kyle!"

"I'm in the bathroom!" came a call from upstairs.

"Kyle honey, what are you doing up there? You've been up for more than an hour!"

"I'll be out in a few minutes!"

"So, uh, are we the first to arrive?" Randy asked, looking around at the room.

"Yes, but the other guests should be arriving---"

Ding-dong!

"Oh---"

Gerald opened the door again; Chef came in, carrying a platter full of snacks.

"Hello there, everybody! I'm here for the party!"

"Oh, great, and you brought food---you shouldn't have, thank you---"

Already bored of the adults, Stan wandered away from the group and up the stairs. As soon as he reached the next floor he saw that the bathroom door was ajar.

"Kyle?"

"In here!"

Stan entered. It was just as he had expected---Kyle, not sitting on the toilet, but beside it with Ike, waiting anxiously with a half-eaten plate of Christmas cookies on the tiled floor.

"Dude, you're eating in the bathroom? Sick!"

"Well, they were supposed to be for Mr. Hankey, but he's taking forever..." He checked his watch anxiously. "I mean, it's already Christmas Eve and he hasn't shown up yet! What if he's not coming?!"

"Dude, don't freak out. He'll come."

"But what if---"

Suddenly something brown shot out of the toilet. Kyle let out a cry and jumped back as the ugly, smelly thing landed on the toilet seat. "HOOOOOOOWDY-HO!"

"Mr. Hankey! You're here!"

"Why, shucks, Kyle, 'course I'm here! I wouldn't pass up a chance to visit you all during Christmas time. Shucks, this bathroom smells so nice and flow'ry..."

"Stinky-stick," said Ike, pointing at Mr. Hankey.

"But what took you so long?" asked Kyle, as he and Stan bent low (but not too low, Stan thought, wrinkling his nose) over him.

"Oh, I just had to get Autumn and the kids ready for the party---alright now, fellas, you can come up now!"

"Whee!"

Three smaller pieces of poo cried with glee as they shot out of the toilet to land beside Mr. Hankey, along with another, Mr. Hankey-sized turd with a pink dress on and a margarita glass in one hand.

"Y'all remember my wife Autumn and the little nuggets now, don'tcha?"

"Howdy-ho!" called Cornwallis and Amber, waving.

"Der, hey!" said Simon, blinking and grinning stupidly.

"Oh...hey," said Stan, shooting Kyle a look. He looked back with equal worry; the Hankeys weren't exactly the most stable of families. Not that any of the other families they knew were, of course.

"Hey!" Autumn cried drunkedly, pointing randomly at Kyle. "You're shtaring at my breashtsh, aren't you?!"

"What?! No!"

"Oh, yesh you are!"

"Okay, Autumn...Autumn, you're drunk. Calm down."

"Hey! Don't you talk to me! He was shtaring at my breashtsh!"

"No I wasn't!"

"Mom, Dad, calm down," Amber said, somewhat pleadingly.

"Uh, yeah. Come on, let's go downstairs," Kyle said quickly. "The other guests are starting to arrive, I think my mom and dad are gonna light up the menorah soon---"

"Hey! Yeah, you!" Autumn had turned her attention to Stan now. "I bet you'd like it if I jusht shlipped out of this 'ere dress and went running nakedall around thish room. Wouldn't you?!"

"No, dude! Sick!"

"Now, now, Autumn...you're drunk, okay? Maybe you should just go back home and lie down---" Mr. Hankey put his hands on her shoulders---or where her stick-like arms connected to her body, anyway---but she slapped him away.

"Hey! Don't you touch me, bitch! Not that you ever do, anymore..."

"Hey!"

"Mom, Dad, please calm down," Cornwallis pleaded. Beside him, Simon giggled stupidly.

"Yeah, let's just go downstairs---" Kyle began, but Mr. Hankey cut him off.

"Now listen here, Autumn," he said, pointing at her and looking uncharacteristically mad, "I am sick of all your drunken rants, okay?! You're gonna stop it right now, because I'm not gonna put up with it anymore!"

"Huh!" she scoffed, sloshing her drink. "That'sh not the only thing you don't 'put up' anymore, ish it?!"

Mr. Hankey's eyes widened, then set into a look of rage. He drew away, pulled back his fist, and with a sudden cry punched Autumn straight on the face.

And Autumn's face, being made of soft, pliable feces, flew off from her body and splatted against the side of the bathtub.

Everybody froze. Mr. Hankey's eyes widened in shock. The nuggets' mouths dropped open. Kyle and Stan gaped.

Autumn's headless body remained frozen upright for a moment, then dropped down onto its side across the toilet seat.

A moment of silence. Then, everybody started to scream.

"AGH!"

"MOMMY! Daddy killed Mommy, Daddy killed Mommy!"

"WHYYY?!"

"Oh my G-d! What have I done?!"

"NO!"

The three nuggets began to scream and jump, bouncing around the room and smearing feces everywhere. Mr. Hankey had fallen to his knees (...or onto the lower third of his body, anyway), and was screaming and crying dramatically beside his wife's corpse.

"Oh, man!" Kyle said, hands on his face as he watched the chaos. "What are we gonna do?!"

Stan looked around quickly. "Wait---I have an idea!"

He rushed out of the room. He returned a moment later with his hands full of something brown.

"Quick, get her head!"

Kyle rushed over to the bathtub and (having long ago lost any sense of revulsion about touching the Hankeys) grabbed Autumn's head. He quickly reattached it to her body as Stan came over and dropped one of Chef's Chocolate Salty Balls into her mouth.

For a moment nothing happened. Then Autumn suddenly blinked and looked up, rubbing her head. "Agh...what happened?"

Gasps! "Mommy's alive!"

"Mommy's back?!"

"Hallelujah!"

"Oh! Thank goodness!" cried Mr. Hankey, rushing forward to hug her. "I thought I'd lost you!"

"Hey!" Autumn was up on her feet (...oh, dang it, you know what I mean!) again, and jabbed Mr. Hankey hard in the chest. "You killed me again, didn't you?!"

"Well, I---"

"Oh, you keep doing thish, you little---"

"Well, maybe if you didn't---"

"Oh, Mom, Dad, please don't fight, it's Christmas!"

"Uh, Kyle?" Stan said. "Maybe we should just go downstairs."

"...Yeah."

And they turned and left the Hankey family to work this out on their own.