Almost forgot to upload this week's chapter lol. Aaand, other than that last chapter, we have officially reached the Fractured but Whole stuff. We're gonna follow Darren around a bit this time. Btw, do you remember Mr. Squirrel?


"The Moorish are attacking!" Butters shouted. "There's Moorish everywhere!"

A few days ago, some of the boys had gone back into playing their medieval-style roleplaying game where they dressed in odd clothes. Today, they were at war in the street with some other boys that called themselves the 'Moorish'. It was quite a racket with all of the children shouting and clashing toy weapons outside.

"They're too strong," Craig called. "They're wearing bicycle helmets!"

Kyle glanced frantically around the crowd. "Where did the king go?!"

"He said he had to shit."

"God damnit!"

.

Darren had just finished in the bathroom and was heading towards the front door when someone started banging on it from the other side. He opened the door, letting in a blast of sound from the fighting outside and encountering Kyle and Butters waiting for him.

"What are you doing?!"

"Sorry. I had to go, man."

"The filthy Moorish are attempting to overtake Kupa Keep!"

"You gotta come fight," Butters added. "You're our only hope since Brooke stopped playing!"

"Well shit. I don't know how to fight like she does."

"Hurry!"

He followed them outside and along the sidewalk, pushing through the crowd of battling children. Every now and again, they had to stop to take on a couple of Moorish before they could proceed.

"Stand aside or die," Kyle said to the two kids standing on the top step to Cartman's house. "We're going through that door!"

"You can't," one of them replied. He gestured to the mass of red Lego bricks spread over the lower steps. "Everything from here to here is lava. You can't cross!" They entered the house.

"SHIT!"

"What's going on?" Craig joined them.

"They're saying everything there is lava," Kyle told him.

"That's not fair! What do we do now?"

"I'll tell you what," a Moorish kid shouted. "You die! RELEASE THE DRAGON!"

"A DRAGON?!" Kyle echoed with disbelief.

"We're fucked," Craig said as some kids wheeled out a very large cardboard dragon from the garage.

"King," Kyle pointed at it. "Slay the dragon!"

"ME?!" Darren jumped.

"You can do it my liege," Butters encouraged him.

Darren readied his fists as the Moorish kid came at him. He punched the kid then pushed him into the cardboard dragon.

"Ready the fire breath!"

Darren gasped; he had to dodge quickly as the two kids on top of the dragon used a can of body spray and a lighter to blast fire at him. "Holy fuck, man!"

"Okay," Kyle said. "If you guys get a fire breath attack, then our King gets his Hammer of Heavenly Reign! You can't stop the ki- car!"

"Car!"

All of the children hurriedly got out of the street as a car honked at them to pass. "Stay out of the street! Damn kids."

"Clear! As I was saying – You can't stop the King! He is all powerful!"

Darren pulled a mallet from his belt and raised it high before leaping and bringing it down on the cardboard dragon. It fell apart from the impact, causing the two kids on top of it to fall and run away.

"Oh my god! He defeated the dragon!" The Moorish kids scattered to get away.

"Great!" Kyle cheered. "Now we have to get into the wizard's backyard."

"Okay." Darren opened the gate to the fence.

"Wow," Craig said with absolutely no enthusiasm. "I thought he was going to do something amazing, but then he just did that."

Two kids had Jimmy held back by his arms while a third, Kevin Stoley, questioned him. "Speak bard! What happened to the Stick of Truth?"

"The wizard had it thrown into the ocean!"

"LIES! You shall feel the wrath of the Moorish!"

"Unhand him, you heathens!" Kyle told them. He, Clyde, and Craig had joined Darren and entered the yard. "Or else you'll have the King to deal with and – wait, whoa…where is the wizard?"

"Uh," Jimmy said. "I thought he was with you guys."

"No," Clyde told him. "We got a distress signal to come help him here."

"BZZTZTZZT!" Cartman leapt out from the bushes to land between them. He was wearing a black and white outfit with a 'C' printed on the center of the shirt. He also had what looked like a belt used for carrying and sorting loose change, a red cape, a fake racoon tail, ears, claws, and a mask that gave him the bandit-style mask of the animal as well as its pointed snout. "The wizard is gone! My name is The Coon. I'm from the future." He was talking oddly, as if trying to make his voice sound deeper.

"What the fuck?" Darren looked him up and down.

"Dude," Craig said. "We said we're not playing that anymore."

"Yeah," Clyde said. "We're all split up. What's the point?"

"THIS IS THE POINT!" He showed them a flyer with a picture of a mangy cat on it. It read, 'MISSING! Scrambles. Reward $100.' "In my time, there is a massive crime wave and missing cats! I knew my only hope was to assemble the team."

"Hey, you can't you just switch games like that! Where's the Stick of Truth?"

"Shut up Kevin!" He turned back to the others. "There's a cat in trouble, and it's the key to finding the crime syndicate new to our town… In the f-future."

"Crime syndicate? That – That sounds too heavy for Coon and Friends."

"Well what do you want, Clyde?! You want the fucking Freedom Pals to find the missing cat, get the hundred-dollar reward, and make their superhero franchise more popular?!"

"Fuck the Freedom Pals, dude," Kyle stated.

"That's right."

Cartman's mother slid open the backdoor. "Poopsiekins! There's a loud ringing coming from your basement playroom."

Cartman gasped. "The Coon Alert! Come on Coon Friends, go get your stuff and report back to the Coon Lair! I-In the future!" He turned to Darren and the Moorish kids. "Sorry guys, you can't play with us. We're playing superheroes now, aaaand you guys are dorks." He, Kyle, Craig, Jimmy, and Clyde all ran into the house.

"Well, shit," Darren said. "Now what? …" He thought for a moment. He really didn't want to go back home and deal with his sisters right now, and Brooke was not home today. Lucy was too preoccupied trying to develop a cure for Jake's cancer, so he didn't want to bother her.

"Hey, kid!"

"Hm? Oh, Mr. Squirrel. What are you doing here?" He walked over to the ghostly-looking orange squirrel that was sitting by the backdoor.

"I don't know about you," he began, "but I could use a break from watching you runnin' around an' pretending to be a king. Why don't you run around pretending to be something else?" The squirrel leapt through the sliding door without a trace.

Darren opened the door to follow and found him waiting at the doorway between the kitchen and living room.

"Come on!"

He joined him and followed his pointing little claw to look over at a keypad attached to the basement door. The numbers had been covered with random little words. "It needs a passcode." It buzzed at him as he tried to open the door.

"Don't worry. I got just the thing." Mr. Squirrel was already halfway up the stairs to the next floor. "Come on, kid! Quit laggin' behind!" He chittered and darted the rest of the way up the stairs.

Darren hurried to follow, reaching the top in time to see him phase through Cartman's room door. He entered the room as well and found Mr. Squirrel sitting on the bedside table, tapping his little foot and looking impatient. There was a red notebook at his feet.

"Cat told me that his kid writes all kinds of secret junk in this thing."

"Cat? You mean Cartman's pet kitty?"

"No, dummy! A different cat. Now, open this baby up and let's see if he's got the code written down in here."

"This seems kind of messed up."

"Not as messed up as what Cat told me was in this notebook!"

Darren eyed him oddly as he picked up the notebook. The cover was decorated with hand-drawn pictures and the words 'CARTMAN'S JORNAL.' Darren huffed. "Dumbass can't even spell." He opened it to a random page and found a taped-in crayon drawing of what appeared to be Craig butt-fucking Butters outside in front of some other kids. "What the fuck?!"

"Yeesh," Mr. Squirrel had climbed onto Darren's shoulder to get a look. "That kid is messed up. Get a load o' that one." He pointed at a sticky note portraying a drawing of Craig's head being blown off in a bloody mess by a gun.

The next page consisted of a 'Christmas List Ideas' and a 'Shit List.' Darren turned the page again to find more disgusting drawings, these a bit more…exposing. One appeared to be Butters laying down with an erect penis that a large woman with huge boobs was sitting on. From the hair style and color Darren guessed that it was meant to be Kyle's mother, Sheila. Darren wasn't sure which he found more disturbing, that one, or the next one, which was just Kyle fucking another Kyle in the butt while the other's penis squirted liquid.

"What the actual fuck is wrong with this guy?" Darren said. "Who draws shit like this?!" He turned the page. "Oh god!" There was yet another vulgar drawing, this one of Kyle sucking Butters' penis. Darren dropped the notebook on the table. "I'm done."

"Wait! There was something else next to that one! It said 'Coon only'."

Darren took in a deep breath and risked another look in the notebook. There were two cards taped onto the page and drawn to look like a vault. "Please don't be more smut," Darren prayed as he pulled it open. He breathed a sigh of relief. The interior read, 'Keycode: FukYouMom'.

"Great! Now you can get into the basement and crash that demented weirdo's game."

"Yeah," Darren closed the notebook and placed it where he had found it. "But can I bleach my eyeballs first?"

"I wouldn't recommend it. Besides, the images are already engraved in your mind. Messin' up your eyes ain't gonna change that."

"Fuck. Damn you Cartman and your fucked-up-ness."

"Man," Mr. Squirrel said as they left the room. "Cat wasn't kiddin' about the messed-up crap his kid draws."

Darren suddenly remembered seeing a little journal of some kind in Brooke's room once. Actually, she had a few of the little notebooks, each a different cover image and located in various places in her room. There was one in her closet that he assumed had potion and spell related things written in it since it sat on a shelf beside her ingredients. There was another one on her desk that she once mentioned she used to make lists of books for something; he knew she liked to read sometimes. There was also a third, more mysterious one that she never let anyone touch, though he was pretty sure that it was just sitting in the drawer of her bedside table. He found himself wondering what kind of stuff she would draw or write in her personal journal that no one else saw. He definitely knew it wouldn't be weird sexual shit like Cartman's.

"I know what you're thinkin'. For the most part, that journal o' hers is like some kinda field guide about animals, plants, and monsters. Somethin' she composed herself. Takes after her mother with that… Though, she does have some little random extra sketches and notes in it."

"Why is she so protective of it then?"

"Whaddaya mean? She's like that with all her stuff!"

"True."

He hopped over the last step and walked over to the keypad to enter the code. A robotic female voice echoed each word as he keyed them in then flashed a green light and unlocked the door.

"That's not enough," Cartman was saying. "A hundred-dollar reward. Do you know what that could mean to our superhero franchise?"

They were all dressed in odd outfits, aside from Craig whose only change was an added letter 'S' taped on his shirt.

"That cat looks pretty old. Maybe it just died in the gutter somewhere."

"Human Kite, do I have to remind you that as of right now, the Freedom Pals have a hundred followers on Instagram? We have six! The five of us and Billy Turner, who's a ginger. THIS is the key to finally beating those fuckers! We need to split up. Mosquito. Take to the air and check out all the city parks."

"Bzztzz, you got it! Mosquito, away!" Clyde ran past Darren and up the stairs, making buzzing sounds all the way.

"Human Kite, see if the cat is stuck up a tree somewhere. You've got the storm drains, Super Craig."

"Woooosh!"

"Suuuuper Craig!"

"Fastpass, I need you to use your superhuman speed to get to the Mayor's Office and tell her we're on the case."

"Don't worry Coon. You can count on F-F-Fastpass to get there f-f-fast." Jimmy looked like he was revving himself up to bolt up the stairs before he simply began to walk up them normally. "Excuse me," he said as he passed Darren.

Darren moved aside as he passed him to go down the stairs. The basement had been decorated to resemble some kind of secret base or lair with majority of the things in it being racoon-related. There was even a stuffed dead racoon in a glass case on top of a metal cabinet. There was a whiteboard with several pictures of different people, the top reading, 'Top Bad Guys,' and a large chalkboard on the adjacent wall with a very complex diagram of what appeared to be titles for movies and TV series, several of which were scratched out.

Darren went over to find Cartman pretending to type on a cardboard computer, the screen of which was an iPad taped to it.

"Super Craig? Super Craig, this is Coon. Do you copy? Super Craig, the fuck are you? I repeat, the fuck are you, Super Craig?" He paused to look back at Darren. "Oh great, now the security system isn't working? Dude, what the fuck? Ordinary citizens aren't allowed in the Coon Lair! We're playing superheroes now and you aren't a superhero, Darren, so… fuck off, okay?"

"But I'm bored and Mr. Squirrel said he's tired of watching me do other crap."

"Ugh, all right, look, you can watch us play superheroes, as long as you don't get in the way. Now, make yourself useful and go grab me the Stafernisy device. It's over there."

Darren looked confused as he looked around the room.

"He means this," Mr. Squirrel ran over to a View Master toy.

Darren picked up the toy and brought it over to Cartman.

"Well, that took long enough." He took the toy and held it up to his face. He sighed and placed the toy aside. "You really wanna be a superhero, huh? Well, maybe – MAYBE you can be useful. Have a seat at the table, Douchebag."

Darren made a face at hearing the annoying nickname again, but sat at the table nonetheless.

"Okay, in order to play, you have to have a superhero persona. Then you can fill out your character sheet on Coonstagram."

"What?"

"Oh boy, you're not even on Coonstagram. Well, I guess I can make one for you…fucking unbelievable." He started typing something into a tablet. "So, the first thing we need to fill out on your character sheet is your class. What kind of superhero are you?"

He shrugged.

Cartman sighed heavily. "Okay, okay. Let me show you an example. Ah! Here's Angel's." He showed Darren the tablet screen.

"Is that Brooke?! She's playing?!"

Her picture was her dressed in a dark blue cloak similar to her father's, with the hood up and her large red, feathered wings folded neatly behind her. She had one arm out, holding her tall spectral scythe like a staff. At her side was Sniper, wearing his spiked collar with a skull and crossbones tag hanging from it, a studded leather coat, and a black durag with his pointed ears poking out.

"Angel of Death," Cartman said. "Definitely don't wanna mess with that one. Too bad she's on the other side."

"She's a bad guy?!"

"Might as well be… Look," he tapped the screen with a claw to get Darren to pay attention then began to read aloud. "Angel of Death, AKA Angel, and yes, her alias is Brooke. Class is Netherborn. Race: Wechuge, sex/gender: straight female, alignment: chaotic lawful, religion: unknown, power source: souls, and her kryptonite is her friends and family."

"Aww."

"Ahem, now, let's decide on YOUR class. I only have three left, though." He reached down for something and then placed three little bottles on the tabletop.

"Um, what are those?"

"Sub-Shadow Potions. They give you temporary super powers."

"…Where did you get that?"

"Charles and Lamar," he replied simply. "This one," he pushed forward a bottle containing yellow liquid, "gives you Speedster powers. Like Fastpass or The Flash." He moved a bottle containing pale brown liquid up. "This one, Brutalist. Like a really pissed-off Batman." Last, he pushed up the bottle containing a scarlet-colored fluid. "This one gives you Blaster powers. With ranged powers, like Cyclops. Which one calls to you?"

Darren reached over and grabbed the third one. "This is the least gross-looking one."

"Blaster. Good. Now, we need to find out what terrible thing in your past drives you. You see, Douche," he leaned back and lifted his feet onto the table, "all superheroes have a compelling backstory. It's from that backstory that their powers gain meaning. Let's take you back to when you were just a child… You lay awake that night. Like so many other nights, you couldn't sleep because you knew you weren't like the other kids... And that's when it happened. A loud noise. You swore you could hear your mother calling for help. Out in the hallway, you saw two intruders in front of your parents' door! You had to stop them! You knew you had the power to stop them, and for the first time you called upon your Blaster powers! You beat them, and all seemed to be okay, but then you reached your parents' door. What you saw when opening that door changed your life forever and led you to fighting crime. You were too late. You saw your dad…fuck your mom."

Darren blinked at him. "I did?"

"Wow, that's a pretty heavy backstory. You fight crime because you never forgot the night you weren't in time. And you saw your own father – the man you trusted – fuck your mom. From henceforth, your name is The Amazing Butthole."

"Uhhh…"

"And you should wear a proper outfit. Heroes are supposed to hide their identity after all. I have some stuff over there, but in exchange I expect optimal performance from you. Otherwise, I'll have to charge you money for it."

Darren picked up a black shirt with a flame design and pulled it over his clothes, then found some matching black gloves. He grabbed a cap with goggles and placed it on his head, adjusting the goggles to fit his face.

"Now that you're a superhero, I have a mission for you. I need you to go out into town and try to get as many followers as you can on Coonstragram. It's the only way our franchise will survive! Make sure you use the Coon and Friends hashtag label. Also, I'm having trouble reaching some of the Coon Friends. Go to Super Craig or Human Kite's house and see what's going on."

"What a lame backstory," Mr. Squirrel said as they went back up the stairs. "And an AWFUL name."

"I've given up with him."

"Yeah, so has Cat."

"Well, I guess we'll go to Kyle's – sorry, Human Kite's house first since it's closer."

"That'll just make Craig's house further away."

"Well I'm screwed either way then."

As he neared Kyle's house, he passed by Stan's father, Randy, who was standing outside of his own home and trying to buff scratches out of a car.

"Hey, kid, you know anything about this?" he asked Darren. "Somebody keeps keying my wife's car at night."

He shrugged. "I don't know. Supposedly there's been a spike in crime, so it could be anybody."

"Well, it's happening every night. I thought it was just one of you damn kids, but… Here, come take a look at this." He led him over to the garage and showed him some pieces of paper. "They're leaving notes, too. I'm just scared it's a jilted lover or something." He began to read some of the notes. "'You won't forget me THAT easy.' 'I thought we had something.' Listen, I'm sick of having to buff this shit out. If you can catch whoever's keying my wife's car tonight, I'll follow you on Coonstagram. Trust me, I'm a pretty big deal."

"Okay Mr. Marsh. I guess I can sneak over tonight to see."

"Good. I'm counting on you."

Darren continued over to the next house. Inside, he found Kyle standing at the base of the stairs. He was wearing a light blue outfit with an image of a kite on the shirt, and some kind of hood that covered all around his head but left his face exposed. He also had a large, actual kite attached to his back with a leather holster on either side and the spool and string wrapped around his waist.

Kyle looked over at him. "Who the hell are you supposed to be?"

"Well, according to 'The Coon' my name is The Amazing Butthole. Eh, anyways, he told me to check up on you."

"REALLY?! You sent a newbie to my distress call?! You're such a dick, Coon! Ugh. Sorry, but my problem is too big for a rookie."

"Well, what is the problem?"

"You see, a few days ago, there was an anomaly in the universe. Another version of me – the Human Kite from an alternate dimension – showed up here and is destroying everything. Right now, it's upstairs in my room. I don't think anything can stop it."

"We'll see about that! Come on kid, let's go kick some tail!"

Darren followed the ghostly squirrel up the stairs. Kyle followed, stopping him at the door to his room.

"You're really going to do this?"

"Why not?"

"Well, I can't fight him. Uh, for obvious reasons, you know – alternative-universe paradox shit."

"Right, right."

"Okay then you gotta really kick his ass, dude, so that he wants to return back to HIS universe on the East Coast. Go get 'em!" He threw open the door.

There was a kid, a stranger to Darren, running around with his arms out as if pretending to fly. He was wearing what looked like a cheap knockoff version of Kyle's outfit, with a very small kite attached to the back of his head. He had short, very curly brown hair, an overbite, and big glasses that made his squinty eyes appear much larger than they were.

"Oh, hey, Kyle," the kid said. "I'm baaaaaack! Who's your friend? Did he come to play with us?"

"All right me from another universe! It is time for you to go back to YOUR universe!"

"What do you mean, Kyle? We're a team, remember?"

"As you can see," Kyle told Darren, "he is the one running around giving the Human Kite a bad name. He was sent here to destroy me and weaken my powers."

"No, no," the kid said. "I came here to spend two weeks with my cousin and wanted to play superheroes! And then he said, 'Okay, what superhero do you want to be?' and I said, 'I want to be Human Kite.' But he said, 'You can't be Human Kite. I'm Human Kite.' And I said, 'Well why can't we be Human Kites together?' So, I went to Aunt Sheila and I said, 'I want to be Human Kites together.' And she told him he had to do what I said because I was the guest. …Remember?"

Darren blinked. "Wha…?"

Kyle took in a deep breath. "I'm sorry, me from another universe, but it is time for you to learn that playing superheroes is too painful! Butthole, you must now destroy my alter ego."

"Oh, Jesus, we're gonna fight?"

"That's right. If you really want to play then THIS is how you do it!"

"Well, okay, but I haven't done a lot of sparring. Is this a no-contact thing?"

"Full contact," Kyle said. "Not sparring."

Mr. Squirrel hopped down from Darren's shoulder and ran over to stand beside Kyle. He made a horizontal slashing motion with his claws. "I know that potion you took. Sub-Shadow Fire Potion. You should be able to slash at 'em like this and form some big fire claws!"

Darren watched him slash at the air a few times before running over to Kyle's cousin to try it out for himself. He mimicked the horizontal slashing motion and three large, physical claws of fire burst from his fingers and hit the kid, knocking him backwards. "Oh!" Darren was surprised. "Fucking sweet, dude!"

"Owow! That's hot! Okay, okay, time for my super ultimate power. Get ready. Are you ready?" He climbed up onto the bed and stood on it with his arms raised. "Wrath of Kite from an Alternate Universe!"

Darren felt a tad worried as the kid made to jump, but his worry was quickly replaced with befuddlement as the kid jumped too short and splatted on the floor with a heavy thud. His nose started bleeding profusely.

"Oh, oh Jesus."

"You had enough?" Kyle asked.

"Yeah, this superhero stuff really hurts. I better go back to my universe."

"Oh, you're leaving?" Kyle mocked concern. "Dude, that sucks."

"Yeah, I'll be going now, Human Kite." He started walking out of the room, holding his nose with one hand and his side with the other. "I need some Campho-Phenique for my ear because I got a scrape on it."

Kyle waited for him to leave before running over to Darren. "Dude, I don't know how to thank you. From now on, call on me whenever you need help."

"Yeah, no problem, man. Anyways, I gotta go check on Craig now. See you later."

"Nice work, kid!" Mr. Squirrel praised as they left the house.

"That was really cool," Darren admitted. "What other stuff can I do?"

"Eh, well, from what I remember, you should be able to blast out a straight blaze of fire from your hands like a flamethrower, and – Oh! Remember when Brooke turned into a giant monster and started forming big fireballs in her hands that she chucked at buildings? Well, you can do that too. Eh, not as devastatingly big, of course."

"Awesome."

"Yeah. It's magic fire, too, so you can use it like a physical, really hot blunt object, as you just saw back there. You can also control what, or who, it burns. Great stuff, magic is."

"Hell yeah it is! I guess that means the other guys have real powers now, too, if they got Shadow Potions."

"Sub-Shadow Potions," he corrected him. "Normal Shadow Potion has a completely different effect. Plus, it'd kill ya."

"Oh. Right."

With the ghostly squirrel on his shoulder, visible only to him, Darren made his way back up the street, passing his house and the intersection that led to the shopping area. He tried to avoid looking at the older sixth grade boys that were hanging around and blocking the way to the shops; he really didn't want to deal with their angsty shit at the moment. Continuing further past the public bus stop, he made his way over to Craig's house, which he had never actually been to before but knew which one it was because of Brooke. The girl seemed to know who lived in every house in the town and which house it was. He assumed her memory must be really good, considering she also claimed, and seemed, to know the names of every monster in her kingdom.

A few minutes after Darren ran the doorbell, Craig opened the door. His outfit was exactly the same as always, with the exception of the paper taped to the front of his coat that had a big red 'S' on it.

"Greetings citizen. It is I, Suuuuper Craig."

"Hey. Um, The Coon told me to check up on you. Everything cool?"

"Sorry, but I'm a bit busy at the moment. Suuuuper Craig can't find his guinea pig. I'm not playing until I find Stripe." He started looking around the living room.

"Your guinea pig?" Darren stepped inside and closed the door.

"He's not just a guinea pig," Craig told him. "He belongs to me and my ex-boyfriend."

"Oh, you mean Tweek?"

He forced himself not to look at Darren. "Yes." Craig went over to the basement door. "I bet Stripe's down in the basement again. I'm thinking he smelled the dogfood down there."

"I didn't know you had a dog."

"I don't."

"Uh…what?" He followed him down into the basement and was immediately distracted by a box of Snap N Pops little firecrackers. "Sweet!"

"Uh, you're welcome," Craig said as Darren took the box. "Look! There he is! In the vent way up high."

"What the heck is he doing up there?"

"Throw the thing at him."

"These?!"

"Yeah, he'll be fine."

"If you say so." Darren chucked a Snap N Pop at the vent, the little blast knocking the grate off and causing the guinea pig to fall. He dangled from the edge for a moment before falling to the floor and darting away behind a box of larger fireworks. "Oops!" Darren had not realized what they were until he had already thrown another Snap N Pop at it.

The blast caused the fuses to light and set off the larger fireworks with loud bangs and whistles. "Oh shit!" Craig said as the boys ducked for cover.

Stripe had bolted away from it all and ran behind the dryer, but only for a moment before he ran back out with a terrified squeal. A large yellow snake had chased him out from behind the dryer, snapping at him with a hungry hiss.

"Holy fuck!"

"Is that Mimsy?!" Darren was surprised. "What the hell is Brooke's snake doing here?"

"Trying to eat my guinea pig!" Craig exclaimed, a terrified look on his face.

Stripe dodged around a support beam, skidding to a stop and squealing as Mimsy seemed to predict his movement and twisted around to snap at him again. The little rodent had managed to jump out of the way then bolted for the lower vent in the wall.

"Mimsy," Darren jumped in front of the vent. "No!"

The python halted, the rest of her long body catching up to her and folding up like an accordion. She stared up at the boy, confused, and flicked her tongue out rapidly as she let out a frustrated hiss.

"Uh." Darren took the chance to grab behind her head with one hand and her middle with the other. "Mimsy, what the hell are you doing all the way over here?" The snake jerked her head away from his hand and swayed around in the air innocently. "Hold on," he told Craig. He went back upstairs and released the snake outside. "Go back home!" When he returned to the basement, he found Craig trying to coax Stripe out from the vent.

"I can't get him to come out. I think he's too spooked. Use the power of your ass to overwhelm his supersensitive smell in there."

"Got it." Darren went over to the vent and farted into it.

The guinea pig stumbled out from the vent, swaying a bit before falling over. Craig scooped him up into his arms and began to stroke his back. "Yes, Stripe, a brilliant rescue. We have Buttlord here and his sickening asshole to thank. Great job, newbie. Tell The Coon that I'm ready to play now."

"Okay, cool." As Darren left the house, he pulled out his phone to call someone. "…Hey, Brooke? Yeah, so Mimsy escaped. Yeah. Yeah. Oh totally."

To be continued…