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 ; Thank you much for your generous reviews! I'm excited to get this story on the roll. Never fear, Damien and Pip are going to be the main characters. Please enjoy this intro chapter for Kenny. The story gets deeper in the next chapter. I promise ~
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Death was nothing new to the parka-wearing child from the wrong side of the tracks. His family died, his pets died, and he died - on a regular basis. One could say he danced with death the fastest, spinning around and around in a never-ending ballroom waltz, the music continuously looping. Every time, he came back good as new, happily frolicking among the living once more. Being dead so often gave one an appreciation for life, and he rarely took it for granted. Every day provided a new opportunity to do something interesting and new, which gave him his drive to keep moving forward. He never knew when the right girl for him would come along, flipping her perfect black hair from her pale face, her dark eyes seducing him from under thick eyelashes.
A boy could dream.
Certainly he would have wished to be dreaming as he faced yet another inexplicable death that seemed to be gunning straight for him. No matter what way he sliced it, death seemed to know where he was at every second. So, as he crossed the street in busy Denver with his family, it was only natural what happened next. Karen stepped ahead of him, Kevin pushed him on the shoulder, his mother and father walked hand in hand across the street. Lagging behind, as he often did, Kenny heard the semi downshift, felt the pavement rumble beneath his feet, noticed Kevin's horrified look as he turned around.
By then, it was all too late. Kenny's body crumpled against the grill of the semi, splashing blood across the pavement. Kevin cursed loudly, Karen screamed. The mangled body of the small, orange-clad boy came to a stop as the semi jerked to a shuddering halt. In a short time, Kenny would be filled with life again. As the crowd gathered on the busy Denver street, Kenny floated away, unable to control his decent into hell.
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Damien failed to meet him upon his arrival. Standing alone in a crowded, smelly food court, Kenny kicked at a pile of bloodstained rocks. He would hesitate to call Hell boring, since he knew there were plenty of things to do. However, today, he would shout it to the Prince of Darkness himself if he had the chance. In the year since the Terrence and Phillip incident, Damien had met Kenny every time he went to hell. They had a good time, generally, involving movies, re-runs of Happy Days, torturing dead Terrorists, and eating cookies baked by the terrible and fearsome Son of Darkness himself, Satan. Thankfully for all involved, Saddam was no longer in the picture, but Satan didn't seem to be over the sadistic weasel, judging by the pictures on his bedroom wall.
Kenny sighed, sitting on a bench. He immediately jumped to his feet, yelping and rubbing his left ass cheek. Looking at the bench, he noticed the splinter sticking straight up. "Only in hell," he grumbled to himself, voice muffled deeply by the orange parka pulled tight around his face. Hell was warm, but Kenny still seemed to find an excuse to keep his parka around him at all times.
He selected another bench, running his hand along it to reduce the chance of a splinter touching him again. Just as he finished his inspections, he heard a familiar laugh. Straining his ears, he wished he didn't have to listen through three inches of parka. Puling the hood down around his neck, he looked around for the source of the laughter. As it rang out again, he spun around, pinpointing the small, blonde British boy tittering away like a drunk. It had been a week since he saw Pip last. After cleaning up South Park and rebuilding, they had found his hat in a puddle of blood and what appeared to be body parts. No one had wanted to find out, so they scraped it off the pavement and tossed it in a trash can behind the rebuilt Bar.
Kenny hesitated for a moment before deciding it wouldn't hurt to ask the boy what he had been up to. No one was really around to see him talking to the uncool kids. He pulled the hood over his head lightly, so he could both talk and hear people. Stepping behind Pip, he tapped the boy on the shoulder. "Hey, Pip," he said.
Startled, Pip nearly fell backwards as he turned around. "Kenny!" he cried out. "Oh, it is ever so good to see you. How have you - oh, dear, wait a tick, are you dead too?"
Kenny arched an eyebrow. "For now," he answered, seeing the strange look on Pip's face. "So... uh... you been doing okay down here?"
"Splendid!" Pip squeaked in excitement. "I've made a wonderful new friend, and he doesn't even call me Fart Boy!"
"I suppose that's a step up," Kenny observed, searching for anyone who could be Pip's new best friend in the crowd. There were older men, dirty hobos, a few women wearing Prada. No one seemed to be the right age group to be friends with Pip. In his scrutiny of the crowd, he noticed Damien walking towards them. Kenny smiled and waved, a grin on his face. "Damien!" he called. "You're late!"
Pausing in his step, Damien tilted his head as he moved closer. "I didn't know you were coming down today," he said strangely. His eyes wandered to Pip, then back to Kenny. An awkward silence filled the space between them as they stood looking at each other.
Pip broke it, grinning happily. "Would you care to join us, Ken? We're going to see Shakespear at the new cinema," he offered.
"Us?" Kenny echoed.
"Yes, us," Damien said, narrowing his eyes. "Do you have a problem with that?"
Kenny snorted, barely able to contain his laughter. "No," he said. "It's just really fuckin' funny."
"Hold your tongue, or I'll make you bow down and suffer!" Damien threatened, his eyes flashing fire as they often did when he was angry.
"I'm just saying," Kenny said, stifling a giggle.
"Come on, chaps, Shakespear starts soon and I'd rather like a good seat," Pip said, motioning for the pair to follow him, excitement plastered on his face. Perhaps it was going to the great Playwright's show, perhaps it was having two friends to share his time with. Either way, Pip's infinite good nature couldn't easily be daunted, even by a setting as dreary and depressing as a Shakespearean play in Hell.
Kenny shrugged as Pip led the way, a grin on his face. "After you, Son of Satan," he said, letting Damien go before him.
The cinema was packed, as to be expected of Hell, though being friends with the son of Satan gave certain perks. Damien cleared an entire balcony of the building for the trio. The stage remained empty as the people filed in, fighting and brawling for seats. In Hell, there were no rules or laws. Death and re-death happened often, making a law against violent crimes ineffective. Satan had more important things to tend to, regardless. Kenny shifted in his seat, staring down at the stage. It dawned on him, suddenly, that seeing Shakespear meant literally seeing the man. He looked at Pip, who shook in excitement like a Chihuahua.
"Is this a movie, or the real deal?" he asked to clarify.
Pip shot him a wide grin. "It's really him! It's really Shakespear! Isn't hell wonderful?"
Kenny rolled his eyes, kicking back in his chair and propping his boots up on the wall. "Sure, Pip," he said idly. "If you think so."
Kenny could only hope that Damien would grow weary of the overly-exuberant British boy, and soon.
