Immortal Coil
A South Park Fanfiction by Andew Joshua Talon
DISCLAIMER: This is a non profit fan based work of prose. South Park, et al are the property of Trey Parker, Matt Stone, and Viacom. Please support the official release.
The moon was full and the stars were bright above South Park. Which was helpful to Herbert Garrison, as he relaxed on a log just outside his humble cabin. He sighed as he reclined on a blanket and stared at his phone. Well, it wasn't technically his phone, but if some jackass was going to leave theirs in the woods he was going to make off with it.
"Looking up porn again Mister Garrison?" Mister Hat asked, the raggedy old puppet perched on his right hand. Mister Garrison shook his head.
"Of course not Mister Hat," Mister Garrison replied, "well not now. I'm just looking up some old memories."
"Your Google Pictures Account is still active?" Mister Hat asked, looking over at the screen. Mister Garrison nodded.
"Yeah. Mister Slave isn't as big of a douchebag as I thought. Huh..."
The ragged hermit smiled a bit as he found some pictures of his students. He began flipping through them, his smile growing. Mister Hat looked as dubious as a hand puppet could at these.
"You're not going for the underaged again, are you?"
"No!" Mister Garrison growled, "I'm just... reminiscing! I mean," he gestured to his cabin and the woods, "being a hermit isn't... Terrible, but sometimes I wish I was a teacher again."
"One who wasn't chased out of town after thinking he was the president and terrorizing the people for three years?" Mister Hat asked.
"Yes, Mister Hat, precisely," Mister Garrison grumbled, "fuck that was a lot of meth I took... Crystal blue persuasion..."
He paused at a photo of Kyle Broflovski and Heidi Turner, working on a science fair project together. He chuckled fondly.
"Ah, Heidi. Such a smart girl. One of the few non-retards. You've got a bright future ahead of you, marrying a smart kid like Kyle," he murmured happily.
"They aren't married yet!" Mister Hat interjected.
"Oh give Sheila time and some wine, she'll make sure they tie the knot," Mister Garrison muttered. He flipped to a picture of Stan Marsh, and shook his head.
"I remember when he was just a sensitive pussy. Glad he's finally getting some balls."
He flipped to a picture of Eric Cartman, and he shuddered.
"Ugh. Gotta remember to destroy the school records. I don't wanna have any association with that trainwreck!"
"That fire wasn't enough, huh?" Mister Hat asked. "I think someone's becoming a serial arsonist!"
"Am not!" Mister Garrison protested. He shivered a bit as a cold wind blew up. "Damnit..."
The next picture was of Kenny, leaning up against a smiling Bebe. Garrison smiled almost fondly.
"Heh. Little pervs," Mister Garrison cooed.
He next flipped to a picture of Wendy, beaming brightly. Eric Cartman was a bloodied mess on the playground behind her.
"Ahahahaha! Oh God, that's still great," Mister Garrison cackled. He shook his head and flipped to another picture: Heidi Turner and Leslie Meyers working on a project together. He shook his head in disbelief.
"Jesus Mister Hat, can you believe that little girl was a fuckin' robot?"
"Technical term is gynoid, Mister Garrison," Mister Hat supplied.
"Technical term is 'shut the fuck up, Mister Hat.'"
"No need to be a cockbag about it," Mister Hat huffed. The phone screen pixeled out, shining blue as a few strange electronic sounds issued from the speaker. "What the hell is this?"
"Ugh, this bastard probably just didn't get any antivirus apps for his phone," Mister Garrison snorted, trying to back out. "Shit! It won't stop!"
"You gonna factory reset it?" Mister Hat asked as Mister Garrison leaned up and began working on the phone.
"Maybe, but it'll be a bitch to reload everything. Still, this weird wifi is great. Maybe I will get some antivirus apps," he said. "Wonder why the wifi is so deep in the woods?"
"You never wondered before," Mister Hat snarked.
"Oh shut up," Mister Garrison grumbled.
Something snapped a branch behind them, and both man and puppet tensed.
"I swear to God, if it's another fucking bear," Mister Garrison growled. He had Mister Hat pick up a baseball bat and turned around, using the light of his malfunctioning cell phone to illuminate the trees.
"All right listen motherfucker!" Mister Garrison bellowed, "if you want any of my food you've better be prepared to suck my-!"
The cold, dead eyes of a man sized Goofy animatronic reflected the light of his cellphone. Mister Garrison blinked at the strange cartoon figure, staring at him.
"What the fuck? Goofy? What the fuck is Goofy doing in-?"
The animatronic lifted its arm. The arm split open, revealing a machine gun. Mister Garrison's eyes widened.
"Oh."
He turned and began running and screaming as the animatronic opened fire. Bullets whizzed around the crazed old man and his puppet as he ran as best he could down the mountain path for town.
"OH FUCK OH FUCK KILLER ROBOT OH FUCK!"
"Technically it's an android since-"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP MISTER HAT!"
Kyle Broflovski lined up his shot and launched the basketball up. It sailed right up, slamming into the backboard of the hoop, and slammed down through the net. Kyle caught the basketball before it bounced twice, and dribbled back to the three point line. He lined up another shot... And it once against slammed hard against the backboard. It still went through the net, but Kyle was irritated. The streetlights shone down on the basketball court, the full moon adding to the illumination. Kyle caught the ball and then threw it at the baseboard, bouncing it back and catching it.
The basketball court was adjacent to Stark's Pond, and was a favorite spot of Kyle's since his childhood. He could see the moon reflecting off the glassy surface of the water.
Despite the beauty of the night, and the purity of his favorite sport... Kyle was in a terrible mood.
"Son of a bitch!" Kyle cursed.
"Having a rough night, Kyle?"
And then it got worse.
"Oh goddamnit," Kyle grumbled, glaring over at the fat form of Eric Cartman. Well... Not as fat, he admitted. The fatass at least had some muscles in his arms rather than just being a fat, weak pig. He was dressed in a jogging suit, and was huffing and puffing.
"What do you want, Fatass?" Kyle demanded. Cartman raised his hands up.
"Woah woah woah! Where'd that come from?" Cartman asked, "hey, I'm out here because of you. I'm working out, jogging."
"Good for you," Kyle snorted. Cartman shook his head.
"If anything, I should be pissed with you. But I'm not."
"Why should you be pissed off at me?" Kyle asked.
Cartman raised a sweaty eyebrow.
"You threatened to beat me to death if I didn't keep working out. Like, with your lasers and shit."
Almost all his life, Kyle had known Cartman... and that had made him perpetually wary. Especially with how vengeful the fat kid could be. He sighed and rolled his eyes at his long time friend...ish.
"Well, if you keep working out and get into better shape, you won't have to worry about getting your ass beat."
Kyle turned and hook shot the ball. It made a satisfying swish sound through the net.
"So, what's wrong with you? Trouble in paradise, Kyle?" Cartman asked, walking up a bit closer. Kyle snorted.
"Nothing that we can't handle."
Cartman was the picture of disbelief.
"Really? That why you're out here burning off your anger?" He asked.
Kyle grumbled, and did another lay up into the hoop.
"Because that's how we handle it," Kyle growled, "I'm angry, not at her, but at myself."
Cartman crossed his fat arms over his chest.
"Oh? Why is that?"
Kyle grumbled, dribbling the ball back and forth between his hands.
"It's a me problem, not a her problem," Kyle explained.
"What? You let her fuck your mind and it's your fault?" Cartman asked, tilting his head.
Kyle turns around to face him, glaring death.
"Don't even start," Kyle ordered.
Cartman shook his head.
"Okay, poor choice of words, but you have to admit, having your brain linked into a computer-That's kind of crazy. She invented it, and it keeps driving you crazy."
"It's nothing she's done to me intentionally," Kyle growled. "I just-I just need to get better at it!" He turned back to the hoop, as Cartman just rocked back and forth on his heels.
"And so... What's the problem?" Cartman asked.
Kyle threw his basketball against the backboard, hard enough it stuck behind the hoop. Kyle groaned and walked over to the basket.
"Nothing! And why do you care?" Kyle demanded.
"Oh wow, I'm suddenly trying to act like a friend and you just suspect my motives," Cartman stated.
"I always question your motives," Kyle shot back. Cartman nodded.
"I'm just sayin', Kyle. If you're confident you can solve the problem... Why's she not letting you do it?"
"She will let me do it, eventually!" Kyle grumbled as he leaped up and tried to get to the basketball.
Cartman hummed.
"Shouldn't she trust you?" Cartman asked. "I mean, so what if you're killing people in simulator. It's like a video game, right? You play video games all the time, killing people, but you haven't murdered anyone for real."
Kyle growled.
"She does trust me. She's just concerned about me! The problem isn't her, Cartman!"
"Right. It's you," Cartman said, "in her crazy computer system linking to your brain. So why do you keep going crazy and killing people in simulators?"
Kyle groaned in exhaustion, and climbed up the pole and shoved the ball out. It fell down onto the asphalt, bouncing along. Kyle dropped down into a crouch and sighed.
"I need to figure that out," Kyle stated.
"Could it be that you really do want to go crazy and kill people? I mean, let's be honest: You've got a temper. You've beaten the shit out of me a lot..."
Kyle stared at Cartman.
"Because you're a manipulative psychopath."
Cartman raised his finger, opened his mouth... And blew out a breath through his nostrils.
"... Point. But! Maybe I can help you. After all, if you go crazy in your fancy new suit, you might kill me. That would be bad to me."
"How could you help me? Why would you want to help me?" Kyle demanded. "What are you plotting?"
Cartman glared back at Kyle.
"Why the hell do you try to help me?" Cartman demanded. "I know it's not out of the kindness of your heart!"
Kyle shook his head.
"You're actually asking me directly?" Kyle asked. Cartman nodded.
"Yeah, because it sounds like something you'd design," he said. "Why? I'm a manipulative, abusive psychopath, right? Shouldn't you guys just abandon me to my own devices?"
Kyle let out a long sigh, as he finally picked up his basketball. He then glared into Cartman's eyes.
"You want to know the truth?"
"I think I deserve it, after you put me through so much crap despite what I've done to you," Cartman replied.
Kyle shook his head.
"The truth is, Cartman... I don't hate you anymore. Even after everything you've done, I can't hate you."
Cartman tilted his head.
"Well, that's good-"
"I pity you," Kyle stated.
Cartman froze. His eyes widened in disbelief. His jaw dropped.
"You-You what?" He deadpanned.
"I pity you. You've done amazing things, Cartman," Kyle continued, his eyes never leaving Cartman's, "you could change the world. Become rich and powerful, and have admirers far and wide. You could get everything you want... But you can't. Because when you fail, you can't accept who made you fail."
"Pfft," Cartman snorted, "who made me fail? Well let's see: You have, the Jews in general have, Mel Gibson, Kenny, Heidi-"
"You, Cartman," Kyle stated calmly, "you failed yourself. You sabotage yourself with your anger, your greed, and your pettiness. You can't accept that though, so you will always fail yourself."
"I-That's not true!" Cartman protested. "I won't always-!"
"You literally destroyed your platinum selling band, your potential fortune, all because you lost a bet with me... For ten dollars," Kyle pointed out. "It didn't matter that you had made millions! It didn't matter that you had admirers far and wide! All that mattered was that you'd lost a ten dollar bet with me." Kyle shook his head. "And that's just one example."
"I-You couldn't-I just-!" Cartman tried, but Kyle wasn't finished.
"Even if you got everything you ever wanted, all it would take is one little thing like that... And you'd lose it all. Throw it all away, and blame something else. All your anger, your bigotry, your hatred? It's all because if you were really honest about yourself? You'd fall to pieces. Your gifts could be used for so much more. You could be everything you want to be... But you'll just keep losing it until you get it through your thick skull that you're not the victim."
Cartman stared in silence.
"So... You guys put up with me because you think I'll... Get better?" Cartman asked. Kyle snorted.
"Like hell. It's so we can keep an eye on you," he stated. "I bet you'll never get better. You'll never be able to actually become a decent person."
"Oh yeah?" Cartman shouted, "well, I bet you I will become a decent person! Hell, I'll be the best damn friend you guys ever had! The greatest! Out of sheer spite if nothing else!"
"No way. You'll just fail miserably, like everything else," Kyle sniffed. Cartman growled, pointing his finger at Kyle angrily.
"We'll see, Kyle! We'll see! Because there's nothing I look forward more to than showing you up and proving you wrong!"
"Sure Cartman, I totally think you can do it," Kyle said sarcastically.
"I can!"
"I absolutely believe you and am not silently pitying you," Kyle replied.
"AY!"
Any further discussion was interrupted when a familiar, and crazed looking old man burst through the foliage. He was running for his life, and screaming in terror.
Kyle and Cartman blinked.
"... Is that Mister Garrison and Mister Hat, running and screaming?" Cartman asked.
"Yes, yes it is," Kyle said.
"Oh God, he sees us," Cartman muttered.
"RUN FOR YER LIVES!" Mister Garrison bellowed, sprinting towards him.
"Did he get into some bad weed again?" Kyle asked.
"Why are you asking me? Just because I sell weed? Dude, he doesn't have any money."
"RUN YOU STUPID BASTARDS!" Mister Garrison shouted... Just as he tripped and fell onto the blacktop. Mister Hat slid off his hand and tumbled to the feet of the two high school seniors.
"What is he running from-?" Cartman asked... Which is when an animatronic Goofy burst through the trees. It held up two machine guns that were its arms. A few Donald Ducks, and several Rey, Finn and Kylo Ren animatronics all followed-All with machine gun arms.
"Oh," Kyle muttered. "DOWN!"
Kyle and Cartman dove to the blacktop, crawling behind a bench, as the air above them was filled with whizzing bullets. Cartman rummaged around in his backpack and pulled on his Coon mask.
"Fuck! Shit! Shit fucking balls!" Cartman cursed. "What the fuck?! How are we supposed to fight these assholes?! They won't wait their turn!"
Kyle pulled out his phone. He hesitated-But he didn't have many other options. There was only way to save them all...
"Fuck it," Kyle muttered, tapping the app. Cartman looked up, glaring.
"Seriously?! Are you going to put our deaths on Coonstagram?!"
"Shut up Fatass, and get to Garrison!" Kyle ordered. "I'll draw their fire!"
"Wha-Are you kidding?!" Cartman shouted. Kyle glared back.
"You're complaining about me drawing fire?!"
"If you die, I'll never get to prove you were wrong!" Cartman shouted.
"Then it's something to keep me alive!" Kyle shouted back. He got up and ran, hunched over as the robots advanced and kept firing.
"MOTHERFUCKING JEW! ARGH!" Cartman bellowed, as he scrambled over the blacktop to Garrison. He grabbed him and dragged him as best he could behind the nearby bench. "What the fuck did you do, Garrison?! Piss off Disney?!"
"JUST GET ME OUT OF HERE, YA GAY FURRY!" Garrison yelled back, managing to grab Mister Hat on the way. Cartman punched the old man in the face.
"I'M NOT A FURRY! I'M THE COON! SUPERHERO OF THE NIGHT!"
Kyle vaulted over a flower bed, and around a tree. A bullet zipped right behind his neck. He held his breath for a moment... But he heard what he had summoned. A giant diamond-like shape dove down from above, and he reached out to it.
He then looked over at the robots... And saw a Donald Duck pop its beak open, revealing missiles. Missiles it fired right at Kyle.
"Oh goddamnit-!" Kyle shouted, as the Kite suit landed... And the missiles impacted.
KABOOM!
Cartman peeked up over the bench, and his eyes widened behind his mask at the fire now burning where Kyle had stood.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Cartman shouted. "BULLCRAP! YOU CAN'T DIE JUST LIKE THAT KYLE! YOU JEW BASTARD! DAMN YOU!"
"Lost your boyfriend, huh?" Garrison asked, "I knew it."
"SHUT UP! I'M NOT GAY!" Cartman snarled, punching him in the face again.
"OW! Worst. Rescue. Ever," Mister Hat spat.
Out of the flames... Emerged a humanoid shape. Diamond shaped wings spread behind him, as Human Kite powered up. He activated his sword, and held up his shield. The Disney robots all seemed to stare at the Human Kite.
Cartman growled and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Goddamnit... Asshole. I hate that that looks so kewl..."
"Gay."
"SHUT UP GARRISON!"
Stan and Sam returned to his home after a date. They stopped just outside the front door, blushing up a storm, when they heard... A moan.
Sharon: "Ooh~! Jimmy!"
Stan busted in, power drill ready to go. He saw Jimmy... Giving his fully clothed mother a back massage on the couch. Jimmy and Sharon look up with smiles.
Jimmy: "H-Hey S-Stan, Sam. H-How was your date?"
Stan: "Uh... Fine."
Sam: "Yeah, just fine."
Sharon sits up and stretches, her large breasts straining against her tank top.
Sharon: "Mm! Jimmy just came over to help with some chores! And he offered a massage."
Jimmy: "I h-haven't heard any c-complaints."
Stan: "Yeah. I'm sure."
Sharon: "Thanks Jimmy. I really appreciate your help! It's been hard without Randy... But so much better with help from such nice young men like you!"
Jimmy: "Any-Any t-ti... Any t-ti... Any time, ma'am!"
Sharon: "I think I'm gonna go get ready for bed. Don't stay up too late, you two~!"
Sharon heads up the stairs and closes the door. Stan glares at Jimmy.
Stan: "Jimmy. We have been friends for a long time. I respect you as a hero. But if you try making a move on my mom, I will fucking boat murder you."
Jimmy: "Dude. I just wanted t-to help out a friend's mom. Is that s-s-so wrong-?"
Stan: "Jimmy. Wendy knows your porn history. It's ALL MILFS."
Jimmy: "... So you're admitting your mom is h-h-hot?"
Stan: "DUDE!"
Jimmy: "C-C-Come on, Stan. Your mom is so hot even your g-girlfriend is second guessing her sex-sexuality!"
Stan: "That's not true! ... Right Sam?"
Sam: "..." Blush "Well, um..."
Stan: "DUDE!"
Sam: "I'M SORRY!"