A/N: Thanks for clicking on and reading this horrible brainchild of mine! Try not to vomit and please, please send an OC between the ages 20 to 29 because assassins are needed direly. Include things like, clothes, hair, eyes, height, weapon of choice, hobbies, or anything else that might be useful.

Disclaimer: No, don't even ask…


Indigo Kelly knew, that despite his blue hair (dyed after downing enough everclear to kill a plow horse), his life was boring. While all the other 25 year olds were out getting laid and paid he was in South Park, Colorado making a documentary on Stan Marsh and Kyle Broflovski's fight against the major gas company Sweet n' Pure. He had almost no idea what day it was and the only gossip he knew was that the City Wok he lived on top of made their Kung Palo chicken out of cockroaches and cats.

He had gotten use to this lonely and dim existence. But unfortunately for him it came to an abrupt end the morning (two a.m to be exact) he found a dead skunk in his bed.

At first Indigo had thought it was a blanket or a teddy bear and he hugged it close, before getting a whiff of the stinky corpse. He opened his eyes slowly and stared at it for a few minutes before letting out a loud, shrill, girlish shriek.

"HOLY FUCK!" The navy-haired man yelled and jumped off the bed with a leap that could make Shawn Johnson envious.

As he examined the deceased animal from a distance (while prodding it with a toilet plunger) he noticed a pink sticky note on its head. It read: check anus. Indigo grimaced; no way in hell was he going to poke around in a skunk's butt hole. Right? He looked at the note, then the skunk's…. you-know-what, then the note again.

"God damn it." He cursed before spreading the animal's legs. In the foul cavern he spotted a big red button with "Press me faggot!" scrawled on it. Indigo sullenly obliged and a soothing female voice filled the room.

"Mr. Kelly, we request your presence at Stark Pond. Come alone. Details shall be explained then. Thank you for your time. This vessel will self-destruct in 5, 4,3,2,1…"

"Weak!"


Two men sat huddled on a bench over looking the murky pond, one a brooding brunette with a limp cigarette dangling out of his mouth and the other a blonde trying very hard to wave the smoke away from himself.

"Gregory, 'e eezn't going to come." The brunette spoke first with a heavy (somewhat annoying) French accent.

'Gregory' scowled, "Why of course he is, you mustn't be so negative, Christophe."

Silence. Somewhere a frog croaked.

"Let us play zat American game, oui? What eez eet called again? I Spy?"

"Okay let me start, I spy with my little eye-"

Christophe rolled his eyes, "Do not say my leetle eye! Zat sounds so faggy!"

"I'll say it however I want," Gregory replied stubbornly, "I spy with my little eye something that is… red."

"Er, zat house over zere?"

"No."

"Zat car?"

"No."

"Your panties?"

"No!"

"What else eez red?" Christophe growled.

"That house." His companion replied.

"Zat's zee one I said first!"

Gregory crossed his arms. "No, the house you pointed to was magenta, mine was red."

"I'll show you red, you leetle pussy-" they both pocketed their weapons when a small blue gremlin pulled up.

Indigo stepped out of his car and jogged to where the two men sat. "Couldn't you two have sent me a fax?" he muttered.

The two shrugged.

"So, Periwinkle, you must be wondering why you're here." Gregory smiled charmingly.

"It's Indigo, and yeah, I am wondering. I'm also wondering why I'm covered in guts."

Christopher took a long drag from his cancer-stick, "Zee reason is, Sapphire, we are under 'is orders to complete a task, a task zat you must…'elp wiz. 'E will tell you why later…"

Indigo, despite his tough guy act, was very (scared) cautious, " It's Indigo. And what if I refuse this "task".

Gregory raised an eyebrow, "Tell me, In-the-go, you come from Maryland right," He didn't wait for an answer, "And in Maryland your siblings and parents reside, yes? Well, tell on us to the boys in blue or fail to corporate and that cute little family…. becomes no more. Have I made myself clear?"

"H-how do I know your not just bluffing." Indigo said quietly.

"Right now your fisher-man fazzer and zee brozzers are getting on zere boat for a new day. Your muzzer cannot sleep and 'as decided to knit you a sweater. At least that's what my associates say. " Christophe replied boredly.

"Believe me now?""

And with that, Indigo was skillfully knocked out and shoved into the back of a great black car. License plate: The Mole. Destination: Unknown.


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