I probably should have put this at the beginning, but I DO NOT OWN SOUTH PARK OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS, they belong to two comic geniuses named Matt Stone and Trey Parker.I ALSO DO NOT OWN THE HAMLET QUOTES (chapter titles), they belong to William Shakespeare. I do own this story, which is the crazy love child of my imagination.


Chapter Two: "The Memory be Green"

Cartman effectively had the attention of everyone in his crowded living room, just as he wanted. The lights were out save for a few strings of Christmas lights strewn carelessly over the furniture, and his vision was clogged in a haze of pot smoke. Nevertheless, he could tell he had everyone's undivided attention, just like he wanted.

"Now, I know everyone's still shook up about Kenny's death and all, but Kenny wouldn't want us to be sad about this for a long time. Besides, some positive things have happened since he died. Right Bebe?" He looked over to the blonde-haired beauty with a smirk. A few stray chuckles could be heard around the room. Bebe giggled a little before raising her glass and nodding, encouraging him to go on. "So let's try to get past this, and just party. Ok? Cool."

He hit the play button on the stereo, resuming the loud, bombastic music, effectively drowning out the various conversations that had erupted. Cartman sauntered over to Bebe, who leaned over, pecking him lightly on the lips.

"That was a nice thing to say, Cartman." She smiled brightly at him, wrapping her long, delicate arms around his left arm as they began walking around the room. "I still can't believe that all these years, you really were just big-boned!" She giggled, tracing her fingers down his muscular arm. Cartman smirked at his relatively new girlfriend.

They walked from the crowded living room to the empty kitchen so Cartman could find something to drink. He rummaged through the fridge, half-listening as Bebe chatted about how cute Red's shoes were that night. Just as Cartman popped the cap off his ice-cold beer, his relatively peaceful thoughts- filled with the rhythmic bass line of the music and Bebe's opinions on girls combat boots- were interrupted.

"Oh god! What if it never comes out!" shrieked a trembling blonde who was being dragged into the kitchen by his calmer and stoic friend.

"Relax, it's just soda." Craig lifted the twitching blonde onto the counter next to the sink before proceeding to turn on the water and splash it onto the front of his own blue sweatshirt. Tweek nervously looked down at the can of soda in his hand; the one that he had evidently spilled onto Craig's sweatshirt.

"Sorry I ruined your sweatshirt! GAH!"

"Seriously Tweek, it's not like I'm going to need this sweatshirt in Florida," Craig sighed, drying the splotch on his shirt with a dishcloth that was neatly folded next to the sink.

"Florida? What a faggy place to go for vacation, Craig!" Cartman chuckled darkly. He may have lost his baby fat over the years, but he never lost his hatred for Craig. All Cartman got in response was a middle finger flipped in his face. "Well, are you bringing the twitchy spazz with you too?" Bebe smacked Cartman's arm lightly, as a warning. Tweek twitched, spilling some of his soda onto the countertop from his erratic movements.

Craig sighed and wiped the spilled soda. "Not that it's any of your business, but no. I'm not bringing Tweek with me, I'm just going to visit some family, that's all."

"Yours or Wendy's?" Bebe politely asked, cutting off Cartman before he could retort.

Craig grabbed Tweek's wrist and pulled him off the counter before heading back toward the living room. "Mine. Wendy's family pisses me off."

"Technically, you're her family too, y'know!" Cartman called after him. Craig threw his hand into the hair, middle finger hoisted as he continued out the door, Tweek in tow. "Damn, I hate that guy!"

Bebe and Cartman left the kitchen shortly after them, mingling with their friends as they weaved through the pot-smoking, making-out, binge drinking teenagers that crowded the living room. He was pleased that the party had been such a success. His smile disappeared when he noticed a familiar figure sulking on the staircase. Behind the rails of the banister sat Stan, staring at the carpet between his feet. Cartman sighed knowingly: the boy was going to go emo again. He leaned against the banister, looking over at his sullen friend. He scanned the boy quickly. He was in dark skinny jeans and a black sweater, and with the dim light failing to illuminate him, he was nothing more than a shadow.

"Hey Stan, you look a little...grey."

"Well, I don't feel very colourful these days," Stan replied, crossing his arms over his knees.

"Stan, Sweetie, can you at least try to have some fun tonight?" Bebe asked, leaning next to Cartman. She smiled lovingly at him, but he refused to lift his eyes. "These things do happen, you know."

"Kenny always came back, Bebe, but not this time. I can't, I just can't let him go this easily."

Cartman cleared his throat. "Everyone dies, Stan. We're all sad about what happened, but sulking for weeks and wearing nothing but black is getting a little ridiculous." Stan lifted his tear-stained face to meet Cartman's. It was no secret that Stan was taking Kenny's death extremely hard. He had always been used to Kenny just coming back. He couldn't accept that his friend wouldn't be coming back this time.

He had to get out of there.


Author's Note

I know this chapter seems to have nothing to do with the first one. And, there may have been things that sparked questions in this chapter. This is one cohesive story, just give it a bit... Again, review if you wish, and thanks for reading. Updates from here on in will not be as fast. I have a bad habit of writing out of order.

Thank you again to astrya02 for editing out my stupid mistakes. If I was making money off of this, you'd be getting a cut.

~AP