Kyle typed a new message as he was walking past the cinema, tucking his nose into the nearly absent warmth of his gray woolen scarf. He'd wrapped it tightly around his neck to fight off the evening chill, and yet the nasty thing still prevailed, making him shiver and glad he'd taken a bus from the office building to cover at least some of his way.

[Which one do you want?]

An immediate reply – or half a dozen of them, more precisely - came in, popping up below his question in a quick row.

[i think ill go with the usual]

[actually no wait ill have whatever ur havin 2day]

[done with the delivery so ill meet u in ur room]

[still have an hour or so before i go on patrol]

[dontwanna spend it anywhere near my parents]

[alright]

Kyle nodded to himself: ever since Kenny's father had returned from the detox center, the poor area of the town had been full of uncontrollable shouts and screaming. Moreover, this verbal rampage was going on during day hours as well, and Kyle assumed that Kenny's parents were actively trying to make up for all the time they'd lost thanks to the masked psychopath. He couldn't blame Kenny for wanting to escape that hell.

[Ok. I'll be there soon. Be careful with the window.]

[aye]

Kyle switched off the screen and sped up, hiding his hands in his pockets.

Another week was slowly wandering towards its end, dragging ManPig's unfinished mission further into the past of the quiet mountain town where it would someday become one of its unbelievable stories. As Friday night was closing in with massive clouds and wet dirt plastered all over sidewalks and roads, people started to leave their working places to finally go home and sleep for the two remaining days or to find a nice place where they would be able to sit back, drink something hot and relax. The most popular place – the mall coffee shop - wasn't in business anymore due to "unhealthy ingredients put into product", and while initially the news had been met with a splash of panicking anger, gradually, the situation was leveled.

The existence of something similar but at the same time so old and dear and reliable helped soothing the minds of many.

The lights were bright in Tweek Bros., and when Kyle pushed the front door open, loud chatter poured on him from the inside, along with laughter and a comforting aroma of freshly-brewed coffee – just like it had been before the cheating competitor showed up. Each and every table was busy, and though for Tweek that obviously meant lots of hard work and cleaning up to do, he didn't seem to be greatly bothered. Craig was sitting next to him behind the counter, watching a small TV that was attached to the wall opposite of him.

As Kyle made his way to them, he spotted familiar faces: a few tables were occupied by a group of boys and girls from the elementary school (which was a miracle since the war was still on and the stolen collector's edition had been found by someone's parent and successfully confiscated), two of ManPig's former captives were having a friendly talk by the window, and in the far corner of the room a crowd of people had pushed two tables together and were now drinking coffee and discussing something excitedly, surrounded by colorful shipping banners and posters.

Tweek smiled when he saw Kyle approaching, albeit a little nervously.

"Hi."

"Hi," Kyle greeted him in return. "I see you're getting more and more people every day."

"Yeah. To be honest, it's difficult to be dealing with so many, but Craig helps me when he can. So, what's it gonna be? The usual?"

"Almost. More like my usual, but doubled."

Tweek nodded. "Coming right up!"

"Kyle." Craig, who'd been sitting quietly before, briefly gestured towards the TV, then picked up the remote and raised the volume so that the man would be able to hear better. "Watch this."

Kyle frowned, leaning over the counter. Apparently, judging by the large cozy studio and the audience he saw on the screen, Craig was watching some kind of celebrity show, which was already quite surprising, considering the officer's character. But then everything cleared up: he saw two sofas standing in the middle of the room; one was taken by the show's host and the other… by no other than ManPig himself, still in his mask but in a much more presentable costume. Kyle's frown instantly morphed into shock, and then disbelief as the host's words flooded his ears.

"…and without further ado, I would like to ask you the question: what are you working on right now? Just three hours ago DRIVE Co. twitted that a new game is currently in development, with you as its producer. Can you tell us about it?"

"Okay. Okay, why am I not surprised," Kyle muttered, facepalming.

"They took him from our doorstep," Craig informed him further. "Literally, a car was waiting for him outside the police department the day he was released."

"This is so stupid…"

"Tell me about it."

Meanwhile, ManPig was answering the host's question, his voice muffled by the mask but still sounding undeniably satisfied. "Yes, we are indeed working on a new game, and it is roughly based on real events, on the experience I – personally - had. Sadly, I can't tell you much about it at this moment, but stay tuned for future updates!"

"Thank you!" the host chirped. "Now to the other questions! As far as we know, you spent thirty years of your life in Denver before suddenly moving to a small mountain town. Can you tell us what became the reason of that change? Did you like it in there?"

"Oh, absolutely!" ManPig assured her. "Lovely hairdressers, just wonderful! I strongly, strongly recommend them to everyone!"

"Thank you."

Kyle sighed and straightened his back, suddenly not feeling like watching the rest of the show. South Park never ceased to surprise him, and while he normally swallowed everything it threw his way, this once he kind of wished it would just stop. Tweek packed his order in a paper bag with the coffee shop logo on it, and he took out his wallet to pay.

"It could've been worse, he could have decided to stay in our town," Craig noted, observing the exchange with a calm expression. "Or tried himself in politics. Run for mayor, for instance."

Kyle threw another glance at the TV screen where ManPig was laughing at something, behaving like a citizen with a perfectly clean record behind his back. The sight disturbed him to no end, and of course Craig was right. "Thank god he didn't."

"Thanks for the purchase, Kyle," Tweek said, waving his hand as Kyle turned back to the door.

"Yeah," he responded.

Later, when Kyle was leaving the coffee shop, he pressed the bag to his chest: the paper cups inside it were hot and kept him pleasantly warm. The sun had already disappeared behind the mountains, and street lamps were beginning to wake up, lighting his way back to the bus stop. Everything seemed so innocently normal.

"What the hell," Kyle muttered under his breath as he walked. The world he lived in was ludicrous beyond repair: magic was in the air, red hair was someone's salvation, maniacs were being turned into celebrities… no, this episode of South Park's life certainly didn't end the way he would have wanted.

Thankfully, at least he'd managed to get a grip on the most important thing.