A/N: Gah! I'm so sorry for the delay, but I had a shit load of projects last weekend, and the guilt was killing me all week long. _; Since I've found a little free time, I've decided to update for you guys! I owe WizerdBeard a lot for the whole museum idea, which is coming up! ^-^ Also, please see my profile for my update policy, rant, and what's in the works. PM me with any ideas you'd like to share with me. Also, thanks for an amazing 37 reviews; you guys are awesome!

And before I forget, Scarlet Wolf: please keep in mind that this is South Park, where anything and everything is fucking possible (rocket launchers were where you drew the line, really? What about, I don't know, the zombies, red neck pedo bears, ect? w silly truffle!). I would also appreciate if you keep the questions to a minimum and just wait and see, I'm planning to answer all the questions that are floating around in everyone's brains in due time, because what's the fun of revealing everything all at once? Oh, and thanks for the recommendation of killing the fat ass. Believe it or not, you aren't the only one to volunteer him! XD

A heads up, Craig's part starts right where the last chapter left off! Well, without further ado, here's my latest contribution to . (Longest author's note section ever!) Do enjoy~

Chapter 10: A Private Chat With the Guy Upstairs

(Tweek's POV)

Everyone was praying that we were on the right road; the one that group b had taken, but I was starting to have my doubts. Now that I think about it, we probably should've gotten cell phones or better yet walkie-talkies, which can operate in the wilderness where there aren't any towers for miles, before we left that town. I hate hindsight.

Group a had fallen into a hopeless silence since the fog cleared and there was no group b in sight. Stan cursed under his breath and spun the car around in a sharp u-turn that made the tires screech against the asphalt. I let out a startled yelp as we sped back into the fog.

When we came upon the fork again, Stan made another sharp turn, tires shrieking in protest all the while. Now we were doing 100+ miles down the other road, and you could tell that everyone was thinking damn it, go faster!

(Craig's POV)

Bebe stopped for a split second before literally standing on the gas. My fact of the day is this: go buy a Lincoln navigator today; you'll definitely want one for the zombie apocalypse.

We were set on a path of carnage and destruction as we mowed down everything in our way. Bodies hit the grill and were dragged under the tires. The sounds of bones splitting, organs bursting, and blood splattering filled our ears and are forever etched into my brain.

The car would need a good hose down, that's for sure.

I think Clyde finally lost it, since he's become completely resigned to the things taking place around him. I looked on with a look of pure boredom, quite the contrary to how I felt at the moment.

Mrs. B pipes in again, and I groan. "Oh God—Oh Jesus! So much BLOOD!" I can't begin to fathom why this is cute on Tweek, yet so fucking obnoxious on this woman. Why did that fat ass bring her along anyway?

Yet, I realize now that my brain has always found a way to loop everything back to Tweek. Like, What would Tweek think about this? Or, Tweek would be so cute if he did that. Fucking figures I finally work up the nerve to make a move, and he's taken away from me. Right now I could beat the animation out of so many of those undead sons of bitches, even though I kind of owe them for giving me the push to tell Tweek how I feel before we're brutally slaughtered. That kind of thing tends to do that.

God? Are you there? If you exist, I have something to confess. I'd never planned for any of this to happen. I'm still not used to running blindly while death nips at my heels. If you really exist, and I'm skeptical that you do at this point, can you tell me one thing? Why am I afraid to die if this is what you'd planned for me? Why did you give me people to love if you're just going to take them away one by one? And God? I look out the window. Why the fuck did you create such abominations? Is this what you do when you're bored?

I notice that we're dragging a few corpses behind us, staining the road red. I see the parallels to how we'll live our lives until the day we die, constantly staining the roads red while we drag behind us the memory of people we've lost, and the constant knowledge that we'll be sure to lose more. They'll constantly weigh us down, but on the contrary, they're also what make us stronger. I don't intend to lose what I have left, and losing everything else has made me that much more determined. I'll kill every last one of them, or as many as I can, until the day I die. This I can promise you, God.

(Tweek's POV)

We came upon a clearing littered with limbs and lakes of blood coloring the grass crimson red. We must be close.

I felt my silence break, my resolve crack. I felt my tears come. I felt them fall. I felt my heart beat faster than it ever had before. We were so close and yet, I felt so useless, so hopeless. I'd never see Craig again. How could I stand not to cry? Craig was so good to me, with his soft blue eyes and that smug smile, and now he must be dying or dead. My brain took the wheel again and fed my impressionable mind these lies.

God, couldn't you let me have this final happiness? Or was I meant to have nothing all along?

A/N: I really like how this chapter came out! Let's hear it for Determined!Stan and Angry!Craig! Seriously, give 'em some love in your comments, and they'll respond cutely in the Author's notes portion of the next chapter. That reminds me, I feel like this is more than anything a crappy romance, so I'm upping the violence and gore factor for the next chapter; scenes of gore surely deserving of the rating of mature! More zombies shall be had by all! Until next time, dear readers!