"Community night, tell your parents," Wendy announced as she and Heidi Turner handed out school fliers. They strolled down school hallways all of free period to give out information on the new upcoming school event. The once-a-year chance where students could actually attend a PTA meeting with their parents to voice student-related concerns and wants for school change. Something PC proposed to get students more actively involved in the school's upgrading.

The school president and her helper continued handing out fliers, stopping by a group of boys in her grade and handing one to her boyfriend.

"Thanks," Stan said, looking at the flier. "Maybe we can ask for more sports budget."

"Or art budget," Wendy suggested.

"Surprise, surprise," Cartman said, closing his locker. "Wendy Testaburger wants more artsy-fartsy-hippie classes."

Wendy glowered, shoving a flier against Cartman's chest with an intentional punch. "I'm just doing my job, Fartman."

Cartman looked at the piece of paper. "Why don't we ask for better lunch options?" He asked. "Hear that, Kyle? Get you a little Kosher in here."

"I'm not Kosher, dumbass."

Cartman feigned a fake gasp. "No? That's the first sign of self-antisemitism, Kyle."

Kyle glanced an angry cold glare his way. "Why don't we get you some veggies for once?"

"Kenny, you going?" Stan asked, diverting the subject quickly.

"I dunno," Kenny said as the girls walked off. "I don't think I have a choice."

"Neither do I."

Kenny turned around startingly at the new voice. The friendly-faced fifth-grader in the black robe held his own flier. The boys barely noticed him walk up and almost jumped back at his strange appearance out of literally nowhere.

"My parents wouldn't let me live it down. Right, Kenny?"

The boy in the parka stared. "Um, sure."

"Are your parents on the board or something?" Kyle asked the older kid.

The kid with the brown curls tsked Kyle's way, much to his insult. "No."

Stan watched the fifth-grader leave as his black robe trailed behind him. "Dude, who the hell is that kid?"

"Braxton," Kenny mentioned.

"Hm," Cartman observed. "Your new slice, Kenny?"

Kenny eyed him. "He gave me a Playboy."

Stan shoved his flier into his backpack. "Why is he being all nice to you?"

"I dunno, I don't even know him."

"Maybe he's a recruiter," Cartman said. "Preying on those vulnerably poor folks who'll sell their organs for money. Hey, kid!"

The boy in the robe turned, barely having left the hall. "Yeah?"

"You sell organs?" Cartman asked. Kenny rolled his eyes. "Or do you just have a dude-crush on our boy Ken, here?"

Braxton's eyes pinched. "I don't practice that."

He kept walking, leaving Cartman answerless. Kyle looked to Kenny who seemed just as lost. "Dude, I wouldn't mess with that."

"Why?"

"Maybe he does want something from you."

Kenny picked up his backpack, throwing it over his shoulder. "He gave me that Playboy for free."

"Did he?" Cartman said. "Or are you his bitch now?"

"Shut up."

"No, I'm serious!" Cartman said as he followed the few down the hall. "He's giving it to you as a gift, but he's gonna expect you to do a favor for him later."

"Cartman might be right." Kyle admitted. "Kids like that always expect favors."

"Whatever, I didn't have money," Kenny said. "He just wanted to get rid of it."

"Watch it, Kenny," Cartman warned, attempting to get under his friend's skin. "When he wants something back, your days are numbered."

Kenny shoved Cartman by his side. "You call me his bitch again, and your days are numbered."

Stuart McCormick drove into town that day. Taking the pick-up in hoping to get some extra paint cans after finally doing something about that dingy garage of his. Since he'd been making a few bucks painting for neighbors lately, he realized it didn't hurt to at least try and make a bigger living out of it for the family's good sake.

He turned onto a county road far off from the town's central square. When he pulled into the car lot in front of True-Value Hardware, he swerved the truck to a stop in an open space closer to the glass doors. He grabbed his paint sample of a dusty forest green color and headed to the door's front. Once in, he was beckoned to the paint counter in the back by a friendly face.

"Stuart. Back already?"

"Yeh," the man muttered, coming and putting down the color sample. "How soon can I get two four-liters?"

"By Wednesday."

That seemed like a joke. "You serious, Don?"

"Hey," he said. "We've been in business."

"Your store's empty," Stuart argued. "I've got a whole house to paint for the Wesslers down my street."

"Soonest we can do it, Stuart. My hands are tied."

Stuart stepped aside gruffly, making room for people behind him to set four cans of four liters each on the counter. "Are these vegan?"

Don looked at the cans and the two men in front of him. Both dawned in robes of black with red trim lining. One had an absurdly large tattoo upon his neck of an octopus-like creature circled by a ring that moved grossly every time the man swallowed.

The hardware owner looked at the assortment of paints. Two cans of black and two of metallic gold. "They're paints."

"We mean are they animal tested."

"I'll check the manufacturer's receipt." He said, turning to the store's back. "Stuart, stay put. I'll see if I can find some similar shades."

"Hm," Stuart muttered. He took back his paint sample as he came face to face with the two strangers. The neck tattoo was the first thing he noticed as he looked up into the watching eyes of the robed men.

"Oh," one greeted. "IÄ IÄ Cthulhu Fhtagn."

He wasn't prepared to expect that. "Pardon..?"

"IÄ IÄ Cthulhu Fhtagn," the one with the tattoo repeated. "Hail, Hail, Cthulhu Dreams."

They ran a troublesome vibe with Stuart. Making him feel like he recognized the danger in front of him as he became defensive. "Sorry, I ain't familiar.."

"McCormick?"

"Yeah?"

"Our Elders wish your wife and baby well under Cthulhu's grant."

Like a switch flipped, suddenly Stuart's eyes widened in realization. Backing up and looking at the two like hostiles as Don returned from the back.

"It's your lucky day, they're cruelty-free," Don said, holding out the receipt for proof. "Stuart, I've got some similar shades if you want to take a look."

He paid no mind to Don's offer, still absurdly shocked by the two men.

"Stuart?"

"Stay the hell away from me!" He barked at the men in robes. He made a break for it without caring about his errand and headed on his way. Leaving Don confused and the men in red and black unbothered.

He entered the parking lot and dug for his truck's keys in his jeans pocket. So caught up in frustration that he fumbled and dropped them to the pavement. Stuart bent down quickly to grab them when two figures shadowed over his arm and he looked up at two more people in black robes, one with red trim and another with light blue.

"McCormick. IÄ Cthulhu."

"Fuck right off!" He roared, pushing past them and getting into his truck. He slammed the front door behind him as he started the ignition. Quickly swerving the truck out of park and high-tailing out of there. He looked at the rearview that mirrored all four members watching him run.

Karen exited the school's front doors with the chattering first-grade class. Since Kenny was going to Stan's house, she had to wait on her mother to pick her up who was gonna be running late from her shift at the Olive Garden. With many of the kids passing her either to load onto the school bus or walk home with their friends and family, Karen went to the flag pole. She was never one to stray from instructions on where her mom told her to exactly meet her. Karen looked over at the teacher advisor watching students gather to their right places to go home.

"'Hullo," someone said, gaining her attention as she looked up into the eyes of a fifth grader. One with brown curls and peachy skin, dressed in a dark robe over his day clothes. "Are you Karen McCormick?"

She didn't know this older boy, let alone why he was dressed so funny. "Who are you?"

"Braxton." He greeted. "Do you like dolls?"

Though confused, she nodded. The kid smiled and swung his backpack from behind him, opening it by its zipper and pulling out a toy doll encased in pink plastic packaging with a clear front; Displaying the plastic face of bright green eyes with dirty blond pigtails almost similar to Karen's.

Karen's face brightened in wild interest. "That's a Baby Alive doll."

"The new one," he agreed. "And you can keep it."

Her eyes sparkled. "Really?"

"If you do me one favor," he said. "You tell your brother Kenny that I gave it to you."

"Okay.." she said, fascinated by the box as he handed it to her. "Wow."

"Braxton, you ready?" A tall, pale, and slender blonde woman approached. Dressed in a robe the same as her son's black and red. When noticing the little girl, she smiled. "Oh, hello there."

"Mom, this is Karen."

The little girl watched as the woman bent down to her level. "Karen," she cooed, brushing her loose hair out of her face with a delicate touch of her fingertips. "You look just like your mother."

The little girl gazed at the woman as she clutched her new doll. She noticed the hand that had touched her and the weird mark on the woman's thin wrist of an octopus-like thing in a circle.

"KAREN!"

She turned around frighteningly at the sound of her mother's rage as Carol came forward and pulled her back from the two strangers in the robes.

"Mrs. McCormick, we thought your daughter might enjoy our gift-"

Carol knocked the box clean out of Karen's hand and into the snow. "We're not interested!"

"Mommy-!" Karen protested as her mother grabbed her by the other arm and started pulling her away. She lifted her into her arms as Braxton's mother temptingly followed.

"We mean no harm."

She smushed Karen against her chest in shielding. "Stay away from my children, you hear bitch!?"

The woman left with her daughter, leaving the two behind as the commotion had startled many of the schoolyard occupants who remained.

"Why didn't you tell us 'bout that kid!?"

Kenny stood in the center of his kitchen, pinned by his parents like a crime investigation since he got home. He'd barely walked through the front door since they hauled his ass in here and started demanding answers about stuff he didn't know.

"What's the big deal?"

"The big deal is we don't mettle with no shady folk in this house!" Carol demanded. "And you've been sneaking around taking stuff and whatnot from that older boy!"

"I barely know him!" Kenny argued. "It was one magazine!"

"He tried bribin' your sister, today," Stuart said. "They're trynna get into this house by offering us shiny shit."

"Why?"

"None of your concern."

Kenny flattened his brow. "I can't talk to some kid but you won't tell me why?"

"That's right."

Super great logic. "Fine, whatever."

"You go do your damn homework," Carol demanded. "We got that PTA meetin' tomorrow and I'm not letting you fall behind by disobeyin' your parents and talkin' to troublesome kids!"

"I don't wanna go to that stupid PTA meeting anyway."

"Oh, you're goin'," Stuart growled. "And if you mettle with that kid and his family, that's no more McDonald's nuggets for you."

Kenny rolled his eyes, walking past his parents to his room. "I hate this family.."

To be continued...