"Good morning, Mr. McCormick." My teacher said, her voice slimy and venomous. Damn it Kevin… fuck you. Giving every teacher I've ever had the impression that all McCormick men are little assholes that do nothing but fuck bitches and duck class. I glared at her while inwardly cursing my older brothers shenanigans when it came to school. I had a headache from dying yesterday. Apparently someone was hunting and a stray bullet caught me in the head. That shit happens more often than you'd think it would. I am not a pro-guns kinda man. It was always strange dying in such physical ways. Got cut in half by a train? Whole mid-section is sore the next day. Suffocated? Here, enjoy some raspy breathing tomorrow. Hit by a bus? All the sore muscles want to sing your pain receptors the song of their people. I pushed past her and sat by the sweet blond from yesterday. "h-hiya Kenny!" he chirped, and though it made my head throb, I smiled back and waved at him. "What's up Butters?" I questioned, smiling through the throbbing behind my forehead as I took in his cheery aura. The way his pouty, pink lips curved into a smile made my heart sing. "I got grounded." He said, though he didn't seem upset about this fact at all. I assumed that after seventeen years of being grounded for nothing, you start to give less fucks and either accept it or just go along with it. I frowned a bit. "Sorry, bunny." I said, averting my eyes. "Um… wh-what?" he stammered. I looked back at him, to see his head crooked to the side, like a confused puppy and I felt my jeans immediately tighten, along with my heart strings. Goddamn it, Kenny McCormick! Keep yourself in check! "Ah… what'd I say?" I blurted. "You… you called me Bunny." He said, only stuttering a bit. I suddenly wished for another stray bullet. Or maybe the roof would cave in again? Oh, please? But no. nothing. For once. Nothing killed me randomly. So I gulped. "so-sorry Butters…." I said, turning away from him in my seat, pretending to pay attention to the teacher ( she had long since given up on her attempt to wait for us to stop our conversation and had resumed teaching). I suddenly felt this little angle soft touch on my hand as I reached to pick up my pencil. I looked up into Butters' face, seeing this angelic smile and glittering turquoise eyes. "N-n-no one's ever given me a personal nickname. Everyone just calls me Butters 'cause Leopold" he said his real name with a certain distaste "isn't a very cool name. Y-you can call me Bunny if you like." It was around that point that the teacher had lost her patience (why work with high school students if you don't have a lot of patience?) and started a rant about how kids today never listened and something about calling our parents (ha, good luck you old dried up cantaloupe. My family didn't have a house phone.). I looked over at Butters, who looked mortified now. "Miss, it was mostly me. There's no need to call his parents." I spoke up, shocking Butters. "Of course…" she said, then mumbled something along the lines of "damn McCormicks…"
"So, Bunny" I grinned, loving that I had the privilege of giving him a nickname "what's our next class? Drama, was it?" I asked, restricting the urge to cringe. That's what happens when you don't go to the open house thing and pick your own elective. You get thrown into drama class with all the emo kids. Sure, they were a great source of cigs and they never seemed to have any shortage of lighters, but come on! Drama? Me? Kenny McCormick? Nope. Nope, nope, nope. jpeg. But my bunny-dear would be there, and that would make it alright. He smiled. "They're already starting the casting for a play." He was beaming, until he noticed something over my shoulder, and his face fell immediately. I glanced over my shoulder to see Clyde making his way past exiting students towards us. I frowned and I heard Butters cower slightly. "Hey there, stotchy." Clyde spoke darkly, ignoring my presence this time. I stood up, planting myself between Butters and him. I saw the look of fear that crossed his face momentarily. I had grown much taller, the second tallest in my group of friends next to Stan and Cartman, who were about the same height. I towered over Clyde by at least a few inches, and while I wasn't as muscular looking as Cartman, I was indeed much thicker than the starting-to-get-out-of-shape Clyde. "What's this, McCormick?" he sneered when the fear left his features. "Just back off, Donovan." I said, speaking his last name in a way that showed my lack of respect for him, as he had done to me. "Ah… Kenny, its fine…" Butters quipped from behind me, his eyes trained on his sky blue converses as he shivered a bit in nervous fear. "No, Bunny. It's not." I replied, glancing over my shoulder at him, offering a reassuring smile. "Bunny? What the fuck is that about?" Clyde scowled. "Ah… please, Clyde…" Butters started to plead, but was cut off by a vicious glare from Clyde. "Butters. Get over here. Now." I bit my lip in anger as I heard the shuffling and movement of Butters leaping from his desk. He stood near Clyde, his back to me, and his head down. Clyde grabbed his cheeks roughly, making him face me. "Tell him you're mine." He spoke into Butters' ear coldly. Butters had started tearing up as he tried to speak with Clyde's hand gripping his face in a vice. "I belong to Clyde…" he spoke sadly, closing his eyes as a tear rolled down his cheek. It was at that point that I lost control of my body. My fist was careening into Clyde's face before I could stop it. I heard Butters' shriek, and heard the clatter as he fell against the teacher's desk. I even heard the first kid yell "fight!". I felt the vibration in my feet as Clyde fell to the tiled flooring, knocking over a few desks. And then I was kicking him. It was like I was watching this happen from behind my eyes, but I could do nothing to stop it. I even had time to reflect on why I was even doing this. Was it because he had made Butters say… that… or was it because he made Butters cry? I had no idea, and it seemed my time of meditation was over, as the school security had made their way into the room, their mace cans and batons were armed. I mean, I was a dangerous impoverished kid beating up an upper middle class boy. Of course they need to break out the big guns for me. I felt the sting of the mace invading my eyes and mouth and I heard myself yelp, felt my adam's apple vibrate. I fell backwards, landing on my back and rubbing my eyes with my sleeve. I squinted through the tears and pain and managed to make out a blob of light blue, topped with yellow sitting behind the big brown rectangular blob (the teacher's desk, I believe.). I heard it sob "Kenny! No!" as the first baton strike made contact with my body. A few more. Then there was a particularly hard blow to my cranium, and I knew then that I would have to see Butters tomorrow, because I was about to die.