Clyde's eyelids fluttered open. He groaned and reached for the phone. He really wasn't in the mood to go to school today, but he knew that his dad would not be okay with him taking a mental health day. With sleep still heavy in his eyes, he looked at the time.

9:13 AM. Fuck! He was late for school.

Clyde sat up quickly, but hesitated before jumping out of bed. He thought for a moment. No...no, he wasn't late for school. It was a Monday holiday—the most sacred of days for students. Sure, this one was to celebrate a murderous thieving rapist, but Clyde was still happy to have the day off. Fuck you very much, Columbus, Clyde thought as he lied back down, pulled the covers over his shoulders, and fell back asleep.

.

.

I'm a bitch, I'm a boss, I'm a bitch, I'm a boss and I shine like gloss

Clyde awoke with a start. His heart hammered in his chest as he fumbled around for his phone. It was Bebe.

"Hello?"

"You'd better not tell me that you're still in bed," she said.

"Uh...nope, totally not still in bed." Clyde tried to quietly get off his bed, but his squeaky mattress cried out as he stood, giving him away.

"Oh my god, Clyde," Bebe laughed. "What am I ever going to do with you? Listen, get your thick ass dressed and ready to go. I'm on my way over and I have a big surprise."

"I have a thick ass? Like...with two c's and no k?"

Clyde's voice had so much hope in it. Bebe sighed. "Yes, t-h-i-c-c thick. Your ass is thicker than a milkshake, Clyde."

Clyde smiled as he started to browse his closet for something to wear. "That sounds like something I'd say."

"You did. To me, back when we were dating. Or something like that."

The sound of Bebe giggling through the phone made Clyde feel warm in his chest. He loved her so much.

He pulled out some clothes and tossed them onto his bed. "Alright now, let me go so I can get this milkshake ass in some jeans and I'll see you in a few."

"Got it!"

Clyde hung up and threw his phone onto his bed. He quickly dressed and stopped in front of his mirror to comb his hair just right. He wasn't sure what Bebe's surprise was, but he had to always look his best—he never knew when he could score another point.

Beep-beep!

That didn't sound like Bebe's car.

Clyde walked over to his window and leaned both hands on the sill as he surveyed the front yard. His eyes widened as they landed on Bebe sitting in a beautiful bright red convertible. He lifted the window open and leaned out to call to her.

"Hey! Since when do you have a drop top?"

"I'm not telling you until you get the fuck down here! Come on! I have big plans of driving around aimlessly all day with you!"

Clyde shoved his wallet in his back pocket, flew down the stairs, and leapt out the front door. As he ran across the front yard, he was thankful that his dad was going to be at the store all day trying to milk this holiday for all it's worth.

He ran around the front of the car, a dopey grin on his face. Bebe could sense the thoughts behind that grin and stopped them in their tracks.

"Don't you even think about jumping over the door into the seat! If there's even a smudge of dirt on this when I get home, my aunt is gonna kill me."

"So that's how you can suddenly afford a Lexus on a high school cheerleader's salary," said Clyde.

Bebe rolled her eyes as she watched Clyde open the passenger door and get in the car like a normal person. "Look, I have an aunt who is loaded and likes to flaunt her money in return for affection from the niece she rarely sees. I am a young woman who likes nice things. Did you think I wouldn't take advantage of that?"

"You'd be a fool not to." Clyde's hands hovered in the air, wanting to touch the pristine luxury interior, but terrified that he would ruin things for Bebe by leaving a fingerprint.

"Anyway, she's in town for the week and she agreed to let me take it out for the afternoon, as long as I promised to stay in town." She raised an eyebrow at Clyde's awkward hand movements. "Babe, just relax. Here, this will help." She reached into her purse and pulled out two pairs of Gucci sunglasses, handing one to Clyde. "These we actually get to keep."

"Oh my god," said Clyde. He took the sunglasses from her hands and held them up above his head. "I'm gonna look like such a bad bitch in these." He unfolded them, his eyes wide in awe, and put them on. "How do I look?"

"Hot," Bebe grinned, her own shades already on. "So," she continued, "wanna go for a joyride?"


The last thing that Kenny wanted to be doing on an extra day off from school was work. Yet here he was, driving back and forth within a ten mile radius from City Wok with greasy containers of low-grade Chinese food riding shotgun. He had tried to get Karen to tag along with him, just to make the afternoon pick-up shift a little more tolerable, but she had fled to the Tucker house for the day. He couldn't blame her, though. If he didn't need the extra income to pay for the family's mortgage this month—his dad was unemployed again—he would've gone with her and hung out with Craig.

Walking away from the doorway of Ms. Charmagne—one of his most dedicated customers—he stopped and looked back at her before he hopped into his truck. The look she gave him was downright ravenous. He smiled and waved back, receiving a kiss blown at him in return. He made a mental note to never let her know when he turned eighteen; she would be on top of him so fast it'd knock the air from his lungs.

Most days, Kenny loved the attention that she and some of his other older female customers gave him, but today he just wasn't feeling it. Sure, his pockets were twenty bucks fuller than they had been when he first pulled into her driveway, but the elated confident feeling he usually had from the attention was nowhere to be found. He sighed and took a left back onto Main Street, back toward City Wok.

The last two hours of his shift went by painfully slow, but it was four o'clock and Kenny was finally free. Sitting in his truck outside the restaurant, he pulled out his phone and shot Karen a text.

Hey Kare, just got off work. Do you and Trish wanna get some food? Call me.

He turned over the engine and cranked up his stereo, letting the rumble of blast beats run though his body. He pulled out of the parking lot and started to head toward the Tucker house, anticipating that Karen was going to say yes. About five minutes later, his phone rang.

"Hey Karen," he answered, turning down the volume.

"Kenny! Trish and I are starving!"

Kenny chuckled as he heard Tricia whining in the background about having never felt this hungry in her life. "Message received. I'm heading over right now. Be there in ten."

"Hey Ken, before you hang up! After we eat, Trish and I want to go to Sloppy Seconds and figure out our costumes for this year. Is that okay?"

"Sounds like a plan. I'll see you soon."

Kenny scratched his head. He hadn't thought about a Halloween costume. Token had been hyping up this year's Halloween party as the biggest yet, as it may be the last time ever that all of their classmates are together for Halloween. No matter what social circles people had ended up in, Token always made it a priority that everyone in their graduating class was invited. Although Kenny had barely talked to Token since starting high school, he still appreciated that about him.

Kenny continued to brainstorm costume ideas as he drove, only paying half-attention to the traffic around him. As he neared the final intersection before the Tucker's street, the sound of obnoxiously loud music pulled him back to the present. The bass hit him first. Ugh, fucking rap. Kenny's nose wrinkled. As much as he wanted to be able to appreciate all kinds of music, he just could not wrap his head around rap and hip hop.

The car guilty of murdering its speakers was stopped at the intersection and didn't seem to plan on moving any time soon. A candy red convertible. It was exactly the sort of car Kenny would never buy. The color and model combination made the car more likely to be pulled over by police, and Kenny didn't want any of that shit. The top of the convertible was down, but he couldn't get a good look at the driver due to the head rest. However, he could see nearly all of the passenger. They were standing on the seat, crouched down and holding onto the head rest and windshield for balance, enthusiastically shaking their ass.

Hands on my knees shakin' ass on my thot shit,

Hands on my knees shakin' ass on my thot shit

Kenny pushed his foot down on the brake, slowly pulling up behind the car before stopping completely. Now closer, he knew exactly who was in the car. No one but Bebe had curls so full and blonde, and no one but Donovan was stupid enough to stand up on the seat of a car and twerk.

I walk around the house butt-naked

And I stop at every mirror just to stare at my own posterior

His eyebrows raised at the lyrics. Donovan fucking would, he thought. He picked up his phone and started to film the exuberant performance playing out in front of him. It was perfect blackmail material in case Donovan ever tried to pull another bullshit stunt. "This is your big damn football hero, Park County." He shook his head, quietly chuckling to himself. "Drink it in. I hope you're proud."

He stopped the video and dropped his phone next to him. He crossed his arms, watching Donovan's hips wiggle and roll to the beat. It was almost mesmerizing, like a metronome. Staring hypnotically at his rival, a fleeting thought appeared in Kenny's mind: If his hips and ass move like that when he's fucking, he's probably amazing in bed.

Beep-beep-beeeeeeeep!

Kenny's heart was in his throat as he snapped back to reality. Glancing in his rearview mirror, he noticed that another car had arrived at the intersection, and the driver was not as hypnotized by the twerking going on as he had been.

"Come on, asshole!" the driver yelled.

Kenny watched as Clyde stumbled and fell back onto his seat. Bebe threw her head back in laughter as she put the car in drive, turned on her left signal, and finally exited the intersection. Kenny pulled up to the stop sign and looked both ways, his eyes lingering to the left, before driving straight through towards the Tucker house.


"So whatcha thinking for costume ideas this year?" Clyde hurried out of the car, leaving Bebe in the driver's seat to ponder her answer.

"I have a few in mind. Do you still want to do a couple's costume?" she asked.

Clyde bounced eagerly on the balls of his feet. "Hell yeah! Why wouldn't we?" he asked. "We're in a relationship and we're a couple. Just because it's not romantic anymore doesn't mean we can't show up to Token's party ready to slay."

Bebe exited the car and locked it up before following Clyde into Sloppy Seconds. "See, it's when you say stuff like that that I know we were platonically made for each other," she giggled.

The storefront was decorated for the season. Pumpkins lined the sidewalk out front, cobweb-like fabric was draped across the windows, and there was a creepy-looking brass door knocker in the center of the door. Inside, the thrift store was packed. People of all ages filed through the racks of clothing in search of Halloween inspiration. For those who wanted more than the usual store-bought costume, it was a magical spring of creative possibilities.

"So what's your idea, Bebe? What sort of thing are you looking for?" asked Clyde.

Bebe slowly walked around a rack full of various shirts and blouses. She ran a hand over each piece, eyeing them for a fleeting moment before moving on to the next one. A mischievous grin slowly spread across her face. "You ready to show some body-ody-ody this year?"

Clyde placed his hands on his stomach and grabbed onto the soft flesh. He looked down and frowned. Negative thoughts about his body ran through his head for a few seconds before he pushed them out and looked back up at Bebe. Smiling, he gave his stomach two hearty pats.

"This is the last Halloween party, so if I'm gonna do it, it's gotta be now. YOLO right?"

"Awesome," said Bebe, her wicked grin widening. "I'm thinking we go Greek. I'll be Medusa, you'll be Heracles. I get a white flowy dress here and make adjustments at home, and I have a whole plan for how to make a headpiece for the snake hair. You can wear a brown heavyweight skirt with a black and silver belt, and if you can find a lion plushie and removed the stuffing, you can wear it on your head as the pelt of that lion he slayed while going shirtless…and maybe getting some interest for potential points."

Clyde blinked a few times, stunned. Bebe certainly had this planned out. It was a lot to take in at once.

"So, what do you think?" Bebe asked. She looked hopeful.

Clyde slowly nodded. "I like it. A sexy Medusa, huh? That's an interesting costume for the party," Clyde laughed.

"Yup! They'll take one look at me and become hard as rocks." Bebe wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at Clyde.

"Alright, it's a deal then. Wanna split up? You can look for your dress and I'll try looking for–what was it you said? A heavy brown skirt?"


Karen and Trish led the way into Sloppy Seconds with Kenny trailing behind. They ran off toward the back of the store, leaving Kenny alone by the door. He shrugged and chuckled to himself. He stepped to the side and leaned against a small section of wall that was not covered in stuff for sale. He watched Karen and Trish for a while, but soon his eyes began to wander across the store. He saw many of his peers from school clamoring to put something together for Token's bash. Everyone's excitement about the Halloween season was contagious. Kenny felt a tingle of excitement start to grow in his stomach. He grinned unabashedly on the sidelines, trying to guess what costumes people were putting together based on the items they collected. He was having a genuinely good time. And nothing can change that, he thought, like a fool.

When he caught a glimpse of Clyde, he rolled his eyes and shook his head, but his smile mostly remained intact. He watched as Clyde browsed through the women's section of the thrift store. Kenny cocked an eyebrow—perplexed, but also intrigued as to what he was up to. Sighing, he pushed himself off the wall and headed over towards Clyde.

"Well, this is certainly a surprise," he said, coming up to Clyde from behind.

Clyde jumped with a start and spun around. He rolled his eyes and turned back to the rack once he saw who spooked him.

Kenny grinned at Clyde's initial reaction, but his smile quickly dropped when the interaction didn't progress. Clyde certainly couldn't have suddenly lost all of his insecurities overnight. Kenny surely thought that simply being caught browsing a bunch of skirts would be enough to send Clyde into an embarrassed panic and maybe even a state of desperate begging. That thought excited Kenny. Himself in a position of power over Clyde, in control of his social standing, and Clyde willing to do anything to get him to make it all better.

He crossed his arms and took another swing. "I never would've expected to catch you shopping in women's clothing. Honestly honey, you don't have the figure for it."

Clyde didn't flinch. "Says the guy who dressed as a princess every time we LARPed as kids."

Kenny pursed his lips. He moved around to Clyde's left side and leaned in close. "Everyone already knows that, but what they don't know is that you—the big, tough, masculine football star—are a secret crossdresser."

Clyde froze. It was only for a moment, but Kenny felt satisfied knowing he had finally gotten under Clyde's skin. He watched Clyde's hands tighten into fists, then relax as he continued to browse the skirts.

"I'm not a secret crossdresser, asshole. For your information, I am currently working on putting together a really hot super masculine costume for Token's Halloween party."

Knowing that Clyde had been thrown off his game, even if he was trying to pretend he was still cool, Kenny decided to go in for the kill. He pulled out his cellphone while Clyde continued talking.

"Bebe and I are going together and our costumes are going to be hot and badass and legendary and you'll feel so stupid when you see the finished product. Yes, I need to buy a skirt as part of it," he mumbled under his breath," but I'm not a—"

"Hands on my knees shakin' ass on my thot shit...

'This is your big damn football hero, Park County.'"

Clyde's face went pale. His eyes were wide and panicked as he stared at his own ass shaking to the beat. His eyes darted back to Kenny's face. "Where the fuck did you get this?" he whispered between gritted teeth. The sight of Kenny's shit-eating grin made him nauseated.

"A little birdie brought it to me," said Kenny.

Clyde grabbed for the phone, only for Kenny to slap his hand away. "I am not fucking around, McCormick."

"Neither am I, Donovan. This is gold right here. If you don't want the entire county—hell, the entire internet to see this, I suggest you tread lightly around me. One slip of my finger and this is uploaded on tiktok."

"Seriously? You're threatening to blackmail me?" asked Clyde.

"You always surprise me with what you actually know…" said Kenny.

Clyde clenched his jaw. "So rumors are going too far, but blackmail is fine to you?"

"Hey bro, now that you showed me how low you can go to try to win, I assumed all bets were off."

The two stared at each other in silence, neither flinching.

Clyde was the first to move. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his own phone.

"Don't try anything rash, Donovan. You're in a crowded shop where a lot of people idolize you. If I uploaded this right now, everyone here would see it."

Clyde didn't respond. He continued to scroll through his phone, ignoring Kenny.

"Look dude, I can't trust that you won't do something shady again. I need this to protect myself, okay? You care way too much about what other people think about you, so it's my only defense."

Clyde looked up at Kenny. "You're right. I do care way too much about what others think about me. But only when I can't control it."

Clyde held his phone up in the air and pressed play.

Hands on my knees, shakin' ass, on my thot shit…

Clyde dropped low and began to shake his ass exactly like he had in the car. The song and sudden movement caught the attention of the others around him, students and adults alike. They gravitated toward him, forming a circle around him as the rest of the thrift store caught wind of what was going on. Soon enough, the entire store had surrounded Clyde to cheer him on. Some people even entered the circle to twerk along with him.

Kenny was pushed to the back. This had not gone as he had expected. He had just hoped to put a little fear in Clyde, not have him fight back with the power of his thick yet sculpted ass. Rolling his eyes, he walked out of the store and pulled out a cigarette. Lighting it and taking the first drag, he thought about how Clyde somehow always seemed to come out on top in all of their interactions. Dumb luck, he supposed.

Back in the store, after looping the song for a second time, Clyde took a bow to raucous applause. Bebe ran up to him and threw her arms around his neck.

"What the hell was that?!" she laughed. "You've never twerked in public before! I mean, I guess you sorta did in the car, but that was nothing compared to what you just did here. What's gotten into you?"

"I decided I needed to stop caring so much about what others think about me."

Bebe pulled away from him. "Okay, I know that can't be true. What's actually gotten into you?"

Clyde scanned the crowd as they dispersed back through the store. He couldn't find Kenny anywhere.

Bebe noticed he was looking for someone. "Oh my god, what happened between you and Kenny this time?" she sighed.

Clyde looked at Bebe and opened his mouth to speak before Bebe interrupted him.

"Nevermind," she said, waving her hands and shaking her head. "I don't wanna know."

"That's probably a good idea," he said.


"How was your holiday?" Kenny asked as he and Tweek walked down the main hall of Park County High.

Tweek turned his head toward Kenny and gave him the side eye.

"Ah shit, sorry dude." Kenny smacked his forehead with his palm. "For a moment I forgot that your parents suck."

"It's whatever, dude. The shift wasn't too bad, honestly. I was busy, but not like in a backed up line with people bitching at me all day sorta way."

"That's good, I guess. You wanna hang out Friday night since the Bulls are off this week, or are your awful parents making you work?"

"They are both under the impression that there is a football game every single week, and like hell am I going to tell them otherwise. Yeah, let's do it. It feels like it's been forever since we've been able to hang alone."

They turned down the corridor that led to the band room and were immediately greeted by the walls being covered in black and orange colored flyers.

"The fuck?" asked Tweek.

Kenny grabbed one of the flyers to take a closer look.

"Jensen's Farm presents 'It's The Most Spooktacular Time of the Year', a fall festival running from the twelfth through November fourth. Pick your own pumpkins, bob for apples, take a hayride, or try to make it through our corn maze. Five bucks."

Kenny and Tweek chuckled at the flier as Kenny crumbled it into a ball and tossed it behind him.

"That sounds pretty fucking lame, dude," said Tweek.

"Yeah," said Kenny. "It's probably going to be full of fucking screaming children and their tired-ass parents ignoring them as usual. Sounds thrilling. Hard pass."

They continued to make fun of the festival all the way to the band room.

"So we're going Friday night, right?" asked Tweek as he took out his drum sticks.

"Oh, definitely, dude," said Kenny. "I'm going to bob the fuck out of those apples, and who knows? Maybe I'll get lost in the maze with a cutie and they can nibble on my corn cob."

"Slut," Tweek laughed.

"Hey, I'm more than that. Besides, I'm only like, five percent more of a slut than you are."

"True," Tweek nodded. "But the difference is that I'm more subtle about it."


"Thanks for the ride, Kenny. I'm going to go look for my friends. Love you!" Karen ran off toward the festival's front gate before Kenny could reply.

"Siblings, am I right?" Tweek mused as he walked up to Kenny's truck. He leaned against the hood, half-used cigarette perched between his lips.

"Fucker, you don't have any siblings. How would you know?" Kenny laughed.

"And thank fucking god for that. I couldn't bear watching my parents torture another child." Tweek pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and nodded toward the front gate. "You ready to do this?"

"Yeah. Let me have some of that first, though." Tweek handed over the cigarette, and after a long drag, Kenny stubbed it into the dirt with his boot. "Let's rock."

Once inside, they walked around the festival for a while to get a sense of the layout. Eventually, they decided to take a stroll through the corn maze. Even with the twilight sky making it harder to see the path in front of them, Tweek and Kenny had no problem making it through. After a few minutes, they heard a familiar voice up ahead.

"I don't know how we got lost, Craig! If I did, we wouldn't be lost, would we?"

Kenny rolled his eyes. It was just his luck…

"Oh, real funny, Craig! No, I am not going to cry right now!"

Kenny and Tweek rounded a corner to find Clyde and Craig standing in the middle of the path. "Gentlemen," said Kenny as he nodded to Craig and intentionally pushed past Clyde. Tweek glanced at both of them and just shrugged.

Craig watched as Tweek followed Kenny around another corner. He glanced at a clearly miffed Clyde before following after Kenny himself.

"Craig!" whined Clyde.

"Dude, I just want to get out of this stupid corn hell. My pride be damned," said Craig as he disappeared behind the corn.

Clyde let out a frustrated growl before reluctantly doing the same.

It took about a minute for them to make it to the exit. Kenny turned around and started to slow clap as Clyde finally emerged, defeated.

"Fuck off, McCormick," he said while presenting his middle finger.

"I can't believe you actually got lost in that corn maze," laughed Kenny, shaking his head in disbelief. "It's not even that fucking big. Tweek and I found our way out in like, what?"—he turned to look at Tweek—"Five minutes?"

"More or less," said Tweek.

Clyde frowned. "What? Do you want a prize or something? Do you want me to congratulate you for being better than me at fucking corn mazes?"

"I mean, you could just concede that I'm the better man and we could go back to our regular lives. This whole contest has been fun and all, but it's getting kinda tiring seeing your ugly face way more than I normally would."

"HA! You're hilarious!" Clyde slapped his knee and shook his body in a display of fake laughter. His face remained serious.

"Face it, Donovan." Kenny slowly stepped in closer to Clyde, his voice growing quieter. "I'm smarter than you, I'm more talented than you, and I am much, much hotter than you."

"Remember that I'm currently beating your ass, McCormick." Clyde closed the gap between the two of them. "And all of that other stuff might be true, but I'm faster than you, stronger than you, and much, much better at sex than you."

The two boys glared at each other, jaws clenched and chests heaving with tension. Neither knew how long they stood there, inches apart, staring into each other's eyes, but the moment was interrupted by an announcement on the sound system.

"Attention everyone! The twelfth annual bobbing for apples tournament is about to start in front of the main barn in five minutes! Entry open to everyone! Do you think you're skilled enough to win the coveted Golden Apple?"

Kenny and Clyde looked at each other once more. Without speaking, they both sprinted off toward the main barn, leaving Tweek and Craig in their dust.

Craig sighed and turned to Tweek. "Do we have to go after them?"

Tweek nodded and scrunched his nose. "Yeah. If we're not there to supervise them, they'll probably drown each other."

"Would that really be so bad?"

Tweek snorted with laughter. "Yes. But I dig your sense of humor."

When Tweek and Craig caught up with their respective besties, they were each holding a piece of paper with a large number on it.

"Hey Craig, can you be a bro and help me out with this?" asked Clyde. He didn't look at Craig when he addressed him. His eyes were locked on Kenny the entire time. He took off his plaid flannel shirt to reveal a tight fitting white tee underneath. He handed the paper and a safety pin to Craig, pointing to his back.

Kenny glared back at Clyde. He poked his safety pin through the paper and reached behind his back in a sad attempt to pin in on himself. Tweek shook his head and walked over to Kenny without any prompting.

"Need a hand?" asked Tweek.

"No," said Kenny. He looked like he was doing a physical comedy bit, the way his arms were flapping behind him and he was turning in a circle trying to get a better look at his back. "I don't need help, unlike him."

"Oh my god," Tweek muttered under his breath. "Give me that, you fool." He snatched the paper out of Kenny's hand. "Take off your parka."

"Nah dude. That water is gonna be cold as fuck."

"Clyde took off his warm clothes cause they're too thick and he wants the extra maneuverability. You sure you want him to have that advantage?"

"Hell no!" Kenny whipped off his parka and threw it to the ground. He was only wearing an old gray tank underneath, which Tweek quickly pinned his number to.

A large crowd of students and adults had formed to watch the tournament. Several young women had gathered close to where Kenny and Clyde were waiting, their eyes hungry at the sight of bare skin despite the October chill. Some staff members wheeled out two large barrels full of water. Others carried in several large bags of apples, some of which were then dumped into the water. Farmer Jensen approached the crowd with a megaphone.

"Okay everyone, here's how the tournament works! It's going to be elimination style, and we have a record thirty-two contestants this year! That means that in order to win the whole thing, one must beat five other opponents in hardcore apple-bobbing combat. Whomever in each battle bobs the most apples in three minutes wins that round. The contestants' numbers have been put into a randomizer app and we've set up the brackets. We'll call up each pair as we go. Oh, and did I forget to mention that no hands are allowed? Every participant's hands are going to be tied behind their back so they can't cheat! So, are you ready for some wet apple mayhem?!" The crowd cheered. "Then here we go!"

As the tournament went on, it was eventually revealed that Clyde and Kenny were on opposite sides of the bracket. It was possible for them to go head-to-head, but only if they both made it to the final round. Knowing that, they both put their all into each round, determined to personally defeat the other and bask in their public humiliation. Dunking their heads into the cold water, mouths open and teeth bared. Returning with juicy wet apples, their hair drenched and dripping down their bodies. Their passion and recklessness—and their wet shirts clinging to their chests—were getting their peers riled up, cheering for one of the two Park County High boys to win it all.

After three furious rounds with both young men coming out victorious, there were four contestants remaining. Clyde was called up first, but when his opponent was called, no one came. Murmurs spread among the crowd. Clyde looked around, unsure of what was happening. After a few moments, Farmer Jensen appeared with his megaphone.

"'Scuse me, everyone, but there's been a last minute change. Number fifteen, Charles Mansfield, has forfeited the competition due to hypothermia! Don't worry folks, we have our medical staff tending to him and warming him right up. Okay then, so due to this change, we're going to have our final round right now as a three-way!"

The crowd roared in excitement. Kenny and Clyde looked at each other with uncertainty. They both managed to get to the final round, and they were set to face each other, but neither had predicted a third opponent. Clyde rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. It didn't matter if there was a third person. He was still going to beat Kenny and be carried out of the festival a hero.

Clyde's number was repeated and, already in position, he held his hand up to cheers from the crowd. Kenny's number was called next. He approached Clyde with his head held high. He didn't dare show any sign of weakness or intimidation. Everything was riding on this moment.

The final contestant's number was called as a third barrel of water and apples was wheeled outside.

"Well, hey fellas! Fancy seeing you here!"

Kenny's game face cracked. He slowly turned around to see Butters behind him, his smile shining as bright as the autumn moon. He had been so singularly focused on Clyde this whole time that he had failed to notice Butters was even competing.

"...Hey, Butters," said Kenny.

"Now I don't want you to hold back or 'nothin', okay? Let's have a fair fight, but an exciting fight! Eyes on the prize, right?" said Butters.

Kenny looked back at Clyde. He hadn't broken his stare at Kenny the entire time. Kenny tightened his jaw. "Yeah. Eyes on the prize."

Farmer Jensen called "ready, set", and a whistle blew to signal the beginning of the final round. The three boys plunged their heads in, starting off strong. Kenny and Clyde were neck and neck, matching each other apple for apple. Each would pause for a moment after dropping an apple into the bucket to look over at the other, gauging how they were doing, before going back in for another apple. Their hearts were pounding in their chests. The cheers from the crowd became muffled every time their heads submerged in the water. Finally, a second whistle blew, ending the round.

Staff members came and collected each boy's bucket of apples to be officially counted. Other staff came around to untie their hands. Kenny immediately slicked back his wet, shaggy hair. Clyde cracked his knuckles and spit out a stray piece of apple peel that had been stuck in his teeth. Butters ran over to them, happy as can be.

"That sure was a swell time, wasn't it, fellas? I think I did pretty good on account of my wide mouth. I can fit all sorts of stuff in there. Even my entire first! Funny, huh?"

"Wha…?" Kenny barely had time to process what Butters had said before the megaphone started up again.

"We have a winner, folks!" announced Farmer Jensen. "May I have all three of our young stud finalists over here, please? I am pleased to announce that this year's Golden Apple Champion, the baddest bobber in all of Park County, is Leopold Stotch!"

"Ooh-da-la-li!" Butters exclaimed as he was handed the golden apple trophy. The students from the crowd flooded in and scooped him up onto their shoulders, chanting his name and carrying him across the festival grounds.

Kenny and Clyde were left alone, dumbfounded and cold, as the rest of the crowd dispersed. Tweek and Craig handed them back their respective clothes and they got dressed again. One of the staff approached, offering them all hot apple cider to warm them up as a consolation prize. The four of them slowly wandered through the festival in silent shame until Clyde spoke up.

"Bobbing for apples fucking sucks."

Kenny cracked a smile. It didn't go unnoticed by Tweek.

"So what do you guys wanna do now?" asked Craig. "Wanna carve dicks into pumpkins?"

Kenny and Clyde both groaned. "I think I'm done with produce for a while, dude," said Kenny.

"I saw a sign for where to get on the hayrides earlier," said Tweek. "We could do that."

"Oh yeah. That's a good idea, Tweek. A hayride where nothing happens and we can all just chill for a while. Something nice and boring."

Kenny and Clyde nodded. Once they all finished their hot cider and recycled the cups, they headed to the hayride loading spot. While they were waiting for the tractor to come back around, Kenny pulled Tweek to the side.

"Hey Tweek, why don't you and Craig go on the hayride alone together?"

Tweek tensed up. "Why would you mention that?" he whispered. "Areyoutryingtofreakmeoutrightnow?"

"No, dude, but you clearly like each other. It's a clear night out. It'd be pretty romantic to be all alone together under the moonlight. And with the rumble of the tractor engine, no one would be able to hear if you-"

"Gah! No! I can't! You have to go with me! I can't be alone with him or I'll freak out!"

"You're already freaking out."

Tweek grabbed Kenny's arm, squeezing like a vice. "That'swhyIneedyouwithme!"

"Okay, okay! I'll go! I guess another twenty minutes with Donovan won't kill me."

"That's right, it won't, but it might actually kill me to be around Craig alone." Tweek paused then added under his breath, "You were certainly staring at him most of the night."

"What was that?" Kenny asked.

"Hey look, the tractor is finally here!" Clyde called out.

The tractor pulled up and parked. The driver greeted each of them as they climbed aboard. Kenny and Craig sat across from each other. Clyde boarded third. He paused, trying to decide where he should sit. His instinct was to sit next to Craig, of course, but he knew his best bro would be thankful later if he got to sit next to his crush. Reluctantly, he took a seat next to Kenny. Tweek gave Kenny a wide-eyed look as he cautiously sat next to Craig on the large hay bale.

"That's all of ye'?" asked the driver.

The four boys surveyed the festival and saw no one running to try to make it to the tractor. "Guess so," said Craig.

The tractor shifted into gear and slowly took off down the designated path. The dirt road was bumpy at first, jostling them against each other. It was physical contact that neither Craig and Tweek nor Kenny and Clyde had been expecting. Once the path smoothed out a bit, everyone seemed to relax.

"Why are hayrides even a thing?" asked Tweek. "Like who's idea was it to put a big wagon full of hay on the back of a tractor and have people sit in it. I'm pretty sure I could walk faster than this."

"I dunno. I think they're kind of relaxing," said Craig. He leaned back on his hands and looked up at the sky. "It takes you away from the noise of the festival and you can just sit back and admire the beauty of the stars, you know?"

Tweek watched Craig take in the night sky. A small smile formed on his face. "Yeah, I see what you mean."

When Kenny saw Tweek's smile, he realized that Clyde had sat next to him not to purposely annoy him, but so that Tweek and Craig would be sitting together. He felt a twinge of gratitude in his chest. Dammit, it was hard for him to not see Clyde as the ultimate evil anymore. He did have some good qualities, he supposed.

He leaned back on his hands as well, but when he did, he accidentally placed his hand on Clyde's. Clyde immediately looked at his hand, then up at Kenny.

"Oh. Sorry," said Kenny as he quickly pulled it away. "Accident."

"'S'okay," said Clyde. "Just don't do it again or I'll think you like me," he teased.

After a few minutes of riding along in quiet contemplation, the tractor began to sputter and jolt. The four boys looked among themselves in confusion. The tractor slowed down to a stop before the engine went dead. They looked at their surroundings. They could barely see the lights from the festival in the distance. The nearly full moon was the only light source they had, barely illuminating the woods around them.

"Sorry about this, guys," said the driver. "It was working fine earlier today." He tried turning over the engine a few times with no luck. "Gimme a moment and I'll get her purring like a kitten again in no time."

They all muttered "okay", but an aura of tension was beginning to form around them.

A moment later, Clyde felt Kenny's hand back on his. This time, he was gently caressing his hand. Clyde froze and gave Kenny a sideways glance. Had he not realized he'd been joking earlier? Was he trying to rile him up right now to embarrass him here in the dark?

"Hey. Dude. That can't be an accident," said Clyde.

Kenny's hand quickly moved. "What's not an accident?" he asked. "The engine trouble?"

"No, McCormick. You getting all frisky with my hand."

"What? I didn't touch you, Donovan."

Kenny couldn't see Clyde roll his eyes in the dark.

The tractor engine revved up, sputtered a few times, and died again. Tweek began to slowly rock back and forth as he grew more concerned.

Kenny's face scrunched up as he felt Clyde's hand cover his own and then slowly begin stroking in a rather sensual manner. So this is how it was going to be. Clyde was trying to fuck with him for some supposed wrong he did. What an asshole. He took back ever thinking he had any good qualities.

"Seriously, Donovan? What are you, a middle schooler?" asked Kenny.

"What?" asked Clyde.

"You thought I stroked your hand, so now you're doing it to me just to fuck with me?"

"Dude, I'm not touching shit." Clyde held up both his hands for Kenny to see.

The tractor engine finally roared to life. "Finally! Here we go boys!" the driver cheered.

"Then who…?" Kenny and Clyde looked down at Kenny's hand. Then, slowly, they looked behind them. The hand belonged to a ghastly figure grinning back at them with razor teeth.

They both screamed and grabbed each other. Tweek jumped when he heard Clyde and Kenny scream. The ghoul leapt off the back of the hay cart and sprinted to the driver.

"Hey, stay seated back- wait, who're you? No!" The driver started to scream, but it turned into a gurgling death rattle as the ghoul took control of the tractor.

Tweek let out a blood-curdling scream and jumped into Craig's lap. Craig had been unphased by any of the events so far, but once Tweek was sitting in his lap, face buried in his chest, he could barely function.

The tractor took off at a much faster rate than before. Tweek shivered in Craig's arms. Craig's hand shivered as he began to stroke Tweek's hair to try to comfort him. Clyde and Kenny kept screaming, pulling each other closer for protection. Their bodies were thrown from side to side as the tractor continued.

After what felt like an eternity, the tractor began to slow to a stop once again. Craig glanced around. It appeared they reached a dead end. At least the ghoul had the common sense not to crash into the dead end.

The rev of a chainsaw suddenly came from the brush around them. A giant figure wielding said chainsaw ran out of the brush and jumped up onto the hay cart. Clyde and Kenny continued to scream in terror as the figure waved the chainsaw around in a threatening manner.

Tweek looked up at the figure as it moved in front of him and Craig. "I don't want to die," Tweek whispered. "IDON'TWANTTODIE!" He wiggled out of Craig's arms. Pulling back his fist, he landed a right hook into the figure's jaw.

"OW! God-fucking-dammit!" The figure dropped the chainsaw and grabbed its face, stumbling backwards.

The ghoul popped up from the front of the tractor. So did the clearly-not-dead driver. "Darryl! What's wrong?!"

"Darryl?" Kenny and Clyde said in unison.

"Holy shit! This small blond one is a savage. I think he dislocated my jaw! Fucking fuck, this hurts!"

The ghoul looked at the driver. "Steve, did they not know this was the haunted hayride?"

"What? Of course they did. The sign clearly said that the haunted hayrides started after nine."

"Well clearly they thought they were in actual danger of then they wouldn't have tried to murder Darryl!" said Shari.

"Haunted hayride?" said Tweek.

"Ah geez," said Steve. "Alright kids, let's get you back to the festival, and let's get Darryl to a hospital."


"How're you doing, Tweek?" asked Kenny as they walked back to the parking lot. "You holding up okay?"

"Ngh, still a little shaken, but I'll be okay."

"I can't believe you punched a dude in the face," Kenny laughed. "You're more hardcore than I ever would've thought."

"Hey man, I'm small but feisty." Tweek grinned. "I don't know if I'd survive a horror movie, but I'd definitely take down some motherfuckers on my way out."

The fallen leaves crunched under their feet as they walked in silence.

"Overall though, I'd say I had a great time," Tweek continued, a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Yeah, of course you feel that way. You got to sit in Craig lap. I, on the other hand, have to shower as soon as I get home cause I now smell like Donovan's cheapass cologne." Lowering his head to his chest, he sniffed himself. "Ugh, maybe one shower might not be enough."

"I dunno. I think you smell pretty good like that," Tweek said with a grin.

"How dare you, sir." Kenny stopped at his truck. "Anyway, get home safe and I'll see you tomorrow."


E Honda was remarkably quiet on the ride back to the Tucker house. Craig was staring out the passenger window, still stunned by the events of the night. Clyde was grumpy and in his head. Clyde finally spoke up after he looked over at Craig while stopped at a traffic light.

"You certainly seem happy."

"That's cause I am happy."

More silence. Then, after a moment, Craig giggled.

Clyde pursed his lips and sighed. He was happy for Craig–ecstatic, even–but that feeling couldn't overpower the feeling of disgust he had over having held Kenny McCormick in his arms. Sure, they had both feared for their lives not even an hour ago, but still…that shit was gross.

"Well, I'm happy for you, bro. I'm glad you had a good time tonight," he said. "I just hope you didn't pop a boner while Tweek was all up on you."

"Nope. Thankfully no boner." Craig finally turned to look at Clyde. "I hope you didn't pop a boner while you were all up on Kenny."

Clyde gripped the steering wheel. "I know you just get extra sassy when you're in a good mood, but no, absolutely no boners were anywhere near him. If anything, I got a de-boner."

Craig smiled. "I dunno. I thought you looked pretty cute being held by Kenny."

"NO." Clyde finally cracked. "He was not holding me. I was holding him!"

Craig's smile morphed into a devilish grin. "Well then, I stand corrected. In that case, I thought you looked pretty cute holding Kenny in your arms."

"How dare you, sir."