Sooooo... Wow. This took tooooo long. And it's SHORT. Like, super-short. Shorter than Charlie Sheen's penis. {Crickets}
BTW... I just wrote this right now. Sorry, I haven't been writing much since the fire. Kinda depressed. Yadda Yadda. I don't deal with emotion like normal people do, though. Depression makes me hyper. My goth GBF told me that I should take downers instead of drinking so much coffee. I'mma have to disagree.
ENJOY THE SUPER-SHORT CHAPTER OF HALF-ASSEDNESS. I'll post more soon, I pwomise!

Wherever Tweek was, Kendra, without a doubt, was nearby. Without fail, every time I tried to talk to the kid, his cousin would come out of the woodwork with some vague comment or complaint that would send Tweek into what may be classified as a mild nervous breakdown. More than once she was bleeding, which didn't seem to concern her as much as it did Tweek. Eventually, I gave up all together.

"What if…" The girl posited, tapping her chin pensively, "I had, like, that kid's hair – "

"Which kid?"

"That one," she pointed. "Blondie."

"That's Butters."

"Butters… that's a silly name. Okay, what if I had Butters's hair… only pink?" Kendra held her hands out with a flourish to emphasize the brilliance of her master plan for awesome hair.

Tweek was not amused. He blinked slowly, shaking his head at his cousin, unfathomable confusion etched onto his face.

"Eh, space case!" Cartman snapped his fat fingers in front of my face – a practice I really wish he'd quit. It had been a couple days since I had punched him in the face, and Cartman had already recovered his full capacity for douchebaggary. I snapped back to reality and glared at the fatass, "What's up your butt, man? What, do you have a thing for the new girl, or something?"

My nostrils flared automatically. "No, Cartman, I have a thing for your mother. Who I had sex with. Last night. In your room. On your bed. It was awesome. Put that image into your head and be traumatized by it." That shut him up for the time being. The other guys laughed at Cartman's mental trauma and I proceeded to space out once more.

"Hey, space-case!" A friendlier voice chirped. A flier that said "PARTY" in large rainbow letters was being dangled in front of my face. "Party at my place," the voice chirped again, "There'll be booze and free food. Also, have a designated driver if you plan on drinking. I don't want any deaths on my head."

I looked critically up at the cheery figure holding up the flier, "Don't you live at Tweek's house, or something?"

"Nah, that was only temporary. I live with my dad, now. Long story. Address is on the flier. See y'all Saturday!" Kendra was quickly replaced with a neat stack of fliers that read; "PARTY! Saturday, 814 main st. Show up when you show up, no earlier than eight. There'll be booze and free food! Please have a designated drive; I don't want your death on my head."

"You going?" Kyle asked, peering over my shoulder at the fliers.

I shrugged, "Why not? There's free food."

"And free booze," Stan added.

"Sweet," Cartman mused.

Yup. There ya go. Short and sweet. Congratulations, you sat through ten chapters of this! I hope you're not too dead by now!
Review review review! PLEASIES!