After the godforsaken battle, many had erupted into cheers, raiding any storage unit for beer or wine. The boys began to drink, and try to die down the day's activities if you put it in this way. However, the post-war period of time isn't about relaxation, it is to survey the area, and wait for orders from a higher command.
"Sir, we have just gained conformation that the oil field was indeed taken. What will our counter be?" stated the servant, looking both ways in anxiety, and fear.
"I'll think about it. Don't pester me now," Eric commanded, shooting a glare at the shriveled man, "Send Butters up to me will you."
"Yes sir."
The man had left the room, rather gladly as well. He hurried straight through the hallway peering in ever doorway in search of Butters. Hate, and rage suddenly filled his mind; shock pulled him back, What am I thinking, he thought, I can't fight him, besides, you have a family, you need this job.
Near the vending machines, he found the blond child playing with several miniature figures, singing a little song.
"There are times when you get suckered in
By drugs and alchohol and sex with women-mmkay
But its when you do these things too much
That you've become an addict and must get back in touch
You can do it Its all up to you-mmmmmkay
With a little plan you can change your life tooo-day
You dont have to spend your life addicted to smack
Homeless on the streets giving handjobs for crack
Follow my plan and very soon you will see-eeyy, its easy mmkay
Step 1: Instead of ass say buns, like "kiss my buns" or "you're a buns hole"
Step 2: Instead of shit say poo, as in "bull poo", "poo head" and this "poo is cold"
Step 3: With bitch drop the t because bich is latin for generosity
Step 4: Dont say fuck any more because fuck is the worst word that you can say
So just use the word mmmkay!
We can do it its all up to us-mmmkay (mmmkay)
With a little plan we can change our lives tooo-day
you can change it today
We don't have to spend our lives shootin up in the trash
Homeless on the streets giving handjobs for cash
Follow this plan and very soon you will see-eey
Its easy mmkay!
Step 1: Instead of ass say buns, like kiss my buns or
you're a buns hole
Step 2: Instead of shit say poo, as in bull poo, poo head and
this poo is cold
Step 3: With bitch drop the t because bich is latin for
generosity
Step 4: Dont say fuck any more
Cuz fuck is the worst word that you can say
Fuck is the worst word that you can say
We shouldn't say fuck, no we shouldn't say fuck, fuck nooooo!!!
We don't have to spend our lives shootin up in the trash
homeless on the streets giving handjobs for cash
Follow this plan and very soon you will saaay
Its easy mmmkay!
It's easy mmmkay!
It's easy mmmkay!
It's easy mmmkaaaaaaaayy"
The servant stood their puzzled, slowly, a smile broke out, and he began to laugh. His lungs filled incredibly fast, and soon he was on the ground chocking. Butters ran towards him, surprised.
"Oh no! Uhh, what do I do? Oh hamburgers, I'm sorry," Butters cried.
He began to rapidly hit the man in his chest, while inside his head, he hoped he was doing the right thing. The blond haired child abruptly went for mouth to mouth, and the people who surrounded them began to laugh at the duo.
"What are you guys laughing at?" Butters yelped.
Most of the people began to leave, not caring the slightest bit at the dying man. Many snickered, and whispered as they left. Hamburgers, they're gonna tell everyone, Butters thought.
Several minutes later, the man had regained conscience although with several spasms of gasp. He sat up, looked around, and hurriedly spoke.
"The master wants you. Its an honor," he gasped, and then he collapsed.
"Ah hamburgers, and why are you talking like this is Assassin's Creed?" Butters cried.
Shrugging, Butters hurried up the hallway, and entered the abyss. Shutting the door, he faced Eric. Eric's face was passive, and impenetrable, so Butters had no idea whether he was mad, or going to give him treat. At that thought, Butters laughed.
"Oh, you think something's funny, Butters?"
"No Eric," Butters said, but he couldn't suppress his grin.
"Seeing how you think this is funny, I'm going to give you an assignment."
"Ah hot dogs!"
Eric began laughing maniacally, calming himself down in a few seconds. He smiled, and croaked, "I want you to integrate Judy, don't let her know who you are, and find out who's Jim. Once you know, report to me pronto."
"Ah man!" replied Butters.
Several hours later, Butters had dressed as a gangster with the standard red bandana, red T-Shirt, and red shoes. Finding Judy was easy, interrogating her was going to be a bit difficult. He then made his move. Butters had stalked Judy until he arrived at a bar.
"Pink Pig? Sounds like a toyshop! Yippee!" exclaimed Butters.
Entering the building, he was amazed at how disgusting the place was.
"This place is disgusting to be a toy store," Butters told himself.
After locating Judy, a tall, skinny brunette, he waited for hours until Judy had knocked herself out on vodka. Dragging her out of the bar, he took her to an alley, where he waited for hours until she woke up.
"Mmmmhh, where am I?" She asked groggily.
"Oh! Your awake!"
"Oh, its you!"
"Oh hamburgers!"
"What do you want creepo," She roared.
"Umm," He mumbled.
Butters took out a bat, as well as a book entitled How to Torture and Interrogate. Flipping a few pages, he exclaimed, "Ah, here it is. Step 1, hit victim with bat."
"Wait WHAT!" Judy yelled.
Taking a wack at Judy, he said, "Step 2, say shut up bitch. Oh wait, I just did. Ok, step 3, hit victim again."
"Stop!" Judy roared.
"Step 4, ask question, ok. So Judy, who's Jim."
"Jim is-"
'Step 5, if insert name here replies to slow, hit, if a her, on the head, if a man, hit his balls. Judy, are you a man, or a woman?" Butters asked quietly.
"Ok, ok, Jim is…"
Butters came back towards Eric's office sprinting as fast as he could.
"Eric! Its me! Eric!"
Sighing in annoyance, Eric called, "Yes Butters?"
"Eric, its Jim."
"Well, who's Jim?"
"Jimbo."
"Jimbo? That bastard?"
"Ya,."
"Good, good. Here Butters, a treat," Eric laughed, throwing a doggy biscuit at Butters.
"Thanks Eric," Butters said, nibbling on the biscuit.
"Not yet Butters, you've got one more job."
"Lemme guess, get Jim?"
"And a slushy."
This time, Butters dressed as a girl having two blond ponytails, a blue, and white checkered dress, dress shoes, and lipstick. Walking up towards Jimbo, Butters began to act like a girl with a broken leg.
"Oh, will anyone help me? Oh please, somebody?"
"Sure little lady. What's wrong," Jimbo asked apprehensively.
"Oh, I think I've broken a leg."
"Here, let me get you a lift to take you to the hospital."
"That won't be needed."
"What?" asked Jimbo, surprised and confused.
"I'm working for Cartman Productions, you're under arrest," Butters yelled, pulling out his plastic badge.
"Why?"
"Why don't you go ask Eric?"
"Don't I get a lawyer or something?"
"No, no you don't," Butters replied, and then he proceeded to kick Jimbo's balls.
"Ow!"
"Thank you Butters, you can return to your quarters," Eric replied.
"Ok."
Butters left the room, slamming the door behind him, leaving Jimbo, and Eric alone. The tied up man in the center of the room was struggling to get out.
"What'd I ever do?" he asked angrily.
"Jimbo, I will be asking the questions, or do you not respect my –god forbid- authority?"
"Why the hell am I-"
"Do you respect my authority, or not? Don't say the answer out loud, but you know the answer. So, Mr. Kern, I have recently heard of your relationship between you, and a certain Judy am I not mistaken."
"Yes, we're dating, but-"
"That's all I needed to know. I have in my hand three marbles, three, and each marble is a decision. One is life, one is death, and the last is torture for life. Choose wisely, it's for your own good."
"I pick this one," Jimbo said, his eyes at the green, fat one.
"Pick it up," Eric commanded, "What does it say?"
Flipping it over, the marble stated life.
"Life."
"Goddamn it! I'm still gonna kill you anyway."
"WHAT!"
Pulling out a PSS silenced pistol, he shoved it up Jimbo's mouth, and asked, "Do you have anything to say. Oh wait, you can't say crap."
Pulling the trigger, Jimbo's brains flew, in pieces as well. Pushing the red button on the intercom, he mumbled, "Judy, send a janitor, we have a mess here."
"Yes sir."
Relaxing on his chair, he said quietly to himself, "Kyle, Kyle, Kyle, its your turn now. Its been too long, I think I should repay you guys a visit, isn't that right. Oh I don't know."
Chapter 4: Who's Jim?
