So, I had this elaborate setup going on in this chapter originally, but it felt rushed and a little forced. Honestly, I wanted the other boys to come in before a big ol' plot happened anyway. Ummm, yup. So here it is!

The cultist gave me a desperately sad face. "We don't know. The Blind Prophet was just about to tell you when he was killed! And now we have no idea what else we were supposed to say!"

I took a deep breath, trying to remain calm, but it didn't work. "What?!"

Another cultist shrugged. "That's the way the cookie crumbles I guess. But yeah, you'd both better watch out for the Cult of Cthulhu. They all want you dead. Like, permanently dead." The yellow robed men covered the dead bodies and hoisted them on their shoulders, then put them both in the trunk of a car parked near the train tracks, then drove off.

I threw out my arms emphatically, dropping the shot gun on the ground. "WHAT THE FUCK!?"

Douchebag seemed a little bit perturbed, but said nothing. Butters led us both back inside and closed the front door, then sat us both down on well, what passes for the living room couch. "Okay, so the Cult of Cthulhu wants you dead. Uh, should we call the police?"

I shook my head. "Like the police are going to help us. They've killed me more times than they've saved me." Karen popped her head up from behind the couch. "What's going on? What's a cult?"

I startled and turned around to face her. "Karen! Listen, I love you, but I can't involve you in this. Just know I'm gonna be okay." She seemed saddened. "I want to help, Kenny! I'm not a defenseless little girl!" I wanted to say, "yes you are", but that would have merely pissed her off, so I changed my response. "That means a lot to me. But if anything were to happen to you, I'd never forgive myself, Karen. The best way you can help me is by packing your things and staying with a friend for a few days. Can you do that for me?"

Tears threatened to escape her eyes, and she wiped at her face. "But, you're in trouble. I want to save you too." I raised my brow. "Save me too?" Her eyes widened. "Erm, I mean, okay fine. I'll go stay at a friend's house." I looked at her suspiciously, but she just ran off to her room.

Butters smiled at me. "Wow, you and your sister are like best friends. I wish I had a sister. I think she'd be called Marjorine, and she'd have fun dance parties."

I punched him in the arm. "Quit being such a fuckin fag dude." He rubbed at his arm as if it hurt. "Sorry. Anyway, so you don't think we should call the police? What about our parents? Though my mom and dad they, well they'd probably just end up groundin me for gettin involved with a cult they would." I cleared my throat. "My mom and dad would believe me, but I don't know if they'd be able to help."

"Well, what about Stan and Kyle? They could help us," Butters suggested. I forced a sigh. "No way dude! First off, they wouldn't believe me. Second, it's bad enough you're involved in this. This is Douchebag's and my fight. No one else's."

"My, well, ain't that a bit lonely?" he asked. I rolled my eyes. "It's twice as crowded as usual already, actually," I replied while looking over at the new kid. Butters hummed in thought. "Can't we at least call them and tell them what's going on? I kinda already texted them what was happening when I thought we were gonna die."

I smacked my face with my hand. "Okay, fine then," I conceded through grit teeth.