The only empty seat on the bus was next to Damien Thorn from the other fourth grade class, and I took it reluctantly. I know that I should have felt sorry for him, but I found it hard because that kid was totally insane. Ever since Pip died, he'd been burning more and more stuff than he used to, and I didn't think it was for the fun of it. You see, Damien was the Devil's kid.

We sat in the second row from the back, with Damien by the window and me by the aisle, and I looked around. The Goth Kids, minus the little kindergarten one, were behind us, talking about death and despair and all that shit. The fat chick sat across the aisle from the other two, lighting up a fresh cigarette. Beside her was Powder, who I knew from my street dance group. I could see how creeped out she was, and personally, I found it hilarious, with the weird emo talk going on right beside her and smoke blowing in her face. She was such a whiny moron in dance sessions, and she didn't even comment on these kids. Wow.

Damien stared out the window, watching the Sun rise over the mountains, tracing strange patterns in the condensation. It wasn't one of those idyllic ones you see in movies, it was the white hot Sun slowly creeping up the cold blue sky. And that was it. I had a feeling that it meant something more to Damien though, what with him being the Son of Satan and stuff.

Across the aisle from us were Craig and Clyde, in one of their extremely rare moments of emotional display. Craig's head rested on Clyde's shoulder as he murmured stuff about missing Stripe, his guinea pig. Clyde patted his arm.

As I watched the mountains drift past, Damien continued to write symbols on the window. I recognised several Illuminati symbols, as well as numbers and letters in the Latin, Cyrillic and Greek alphabets. There was also bunch of stuff which looked like scripture passages in Hebrew or something, and a few other weird things like the logos for Black Sabbath and CHERUB. But I didn't think anything of it because this was Damien and he did crazy shit like turning a kid into a platypus simply because he pissed him off.

In front of us were Stan and Kyle, who were probably gayer than Craig and Clyde looked. Stan was in the aisle seat, listening to Kyle rant on and on about Cartman. No doubt his girlfriend Wendy was upstairs right now, ranting to Bebe about how he always seemed to put Kyle before her.

"Where is Cartman, anyway?"

"Oh, he went onto the top deck with Butters," replied Stan. Kyle looked up, expecting the fat kid to fall through the ceiling and land on top of him. Stan sighed, before leaning across the aisle to talk to Kenny, who was holding hands with a fifth grader called Tammy.

I looked further towards the front, where all the normal people (minus Garrison and the driver) were sitting, and decided that I was bored with Damien tracing signs and stuff in a deranged sort of way. I took out my iPod and plugged myself in.

After a couple of hours of Black Sabbath, and being tuned out to the people around me, the bus came to a sudden halt, causing me to jump and take my headphones out. I nudged Damien, who was writing out the Ten Commandments on some notebook paper, presumably to be burned.

"What was that?" I asked. "Is Tweek driving or something?"

"Huh, I wouldn't be surprised, with that douchebag Garrison looking after us."

"What? Where's Mr Bart?"

"He's cleaning up that." Damien pointed to a puddle of watery vomit with bits of cornflake and banana in it, running all the way up and down the aisle.

"God dammit, Stan," said Kyle's muffle voice.

I stood on my seat so that I could see the people in front of me. Stan looked disoriented, but I'm not going to say I was surprised because he was always throwing up. His friend Kyle held his coat over his nose and mouth, looking a bit pissed off, but I wasn't surprised at that either, because he was always pissed off. Mr Bart was using a towel to mop up Stan's mess, and I sincerely hoped he was going to throw it away. Stan looked on with wide eyes.

"Gross, that's fucking gross," said the goth chick in a really exaggerated tone. She stubbed yet another cigarette on her armrest and stood on her seat. Had she have not liked Stan, she'd have probably shouted, "What is your fucking problem?" at him and then would have treated it like a big deal. Y'know, cuz that's what goths do. The ones at South Park Elementary were some of the mouthiest people in the whole town.

After all the puke was mopped up, Mr Bart stepped out of the bus and chucked the manky towel into the open field we'd stopped by. He then got back on and resumed his seat next to Mr Garrison, and the bus started moving again.

I put my headphones back in after a few minutes to try and distract myself from the lingering smell, and for a while I watched Damien's lips moving as he predictably burned the Ten Commandments and muttered random shit to himself. Probably incantations or something, I didn't really care. I fell asleep with Slipknot pounding at full blast in my ears.

Yep, a nice short chapter this time. Cuz there's not really much to say about DogPoo. Thanks for the reviews, and huge thanks to RandomSouthParkerFTW for all the support. I really appreciate it.

And to demonlord5000, I love the idea, and I can actually imagine Kyle doing that. (Yeah, Kyle's my favourite 3) But if Cartman dies, the story won't go as I planned, so sorry.

If you want, check their stuff out. And a quick warning to you, my beloved reader: THIS WILL BE FUCKING LONG. I MEAN IT. LIKE, 100 CHAPTERS OR SO. AND I DON'T CARE IF THIS DAMN THING TAKES ME TEN YEARS, I'LL FINISH IT.