Disclaimer: No, i do not own South Park. Trey Parker and Matt Stone do. Tell me why i would be doing fafics If i did work on the show?!
Okay, this is a really short chapter. It used to be one big chapter, but my wordpad fucked up and it split up.
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Liane was a pretty good driver, Kenny thought. But then again, he really didn't have a lot to compare it to. They were making good time on the well paved roads, and soon they were in downtown. City hall was on the left side, and through the window with blue curtains Kenny could see the mayor looking out through window at her city. She must have felt powerful, looking out through the second tallest building in town. Knowing that was she said was law, and if it wasn't, Barbrady was too incompetent to stop her. Kenny really didn't care. The politics of the town were non-existent in the poor district. Kenny glanced at the clock in the car and it said 7:28. Shit. He needed to be home soon. Kenny looked about at the sky. It was now a twighlight, a mix of many colors that formed an awesome looking orange sky. The mountains rose up out of the ground and perched themselves in the sky, and they bathed in all the orange glory the sky offered. Kenny quickly glanced at the clock and then at where they were. They were just passing Stan's house, and that meant they were like twenty seconds away. Kenny un-buckled just as the van hit the railroad. Kenny was bumped up, and Miss Cartman took note of this but otherwise paid little attention to Kenny. They slowed up and the van came to a halt outside Kenny's house. Kenny opened the door.
"Have a nice day, Kenny." Miss Cartman said.
"Bye"
With that, Kenny shut the door and walked onto his lawn. It looked much worse than before. The ground was muddy, and the dog that was moving across it was caked in the brown stuff. Kenny gave it a good look. It was a golden retriever....it looked like the Rayke's dog that they "Lost" a few weeks ago. The Raykes were a well-off family over near Cartman's house. They had bought a dog and did not even name it when they decided that it was a bad dog. It had just vanished, but the people of the poor district now saw a dog that was only just growing out of puppyhood wondering the streets. It was afraid, and would shy away from all humans. And it did not have a change of heart now, as it ran away from Kenny and towards the second house, It's weak and fragile frame moving quickly away. Liane's van turned into Kenny's driveway, and stopped in front of the dilapidated garage, then pulled out and drove away, the sound puncturing the night sharply. Kenny walked up to his door and opened it. He was greeted by the smell of damp wood and noises like a creaking roof. The already peeled walls now had water rolling down them. His mother got a pot and put it under a stream of dripping water. The sound of the water hitting the metal pot was more metal than anything else, more infuriating than anything else, and more soothing than anything else. It was a really confusing sound.
He wore a red hat wit the word SCOTCH written in gold on it. He had brown hair that was terrible, plain terrible. He wore a blue buttoned shirt over a white T-shirt, and both were stained. He wore blue jeans that were torn and looked terrible. Now that Kenny thought about it, everything on his dad looked terrible.
"Kenny, where the hell where you? We've been waiting ten minutes for you to get here" Stuart said, his voice slurred because of the, you guessed it, scotch that he held in his left hand.
"I'm sorry." Kenny said. Stuart was about to respond when Mrs. McCormick interjected.
"Time for dinner.'
They all sat down and took their places at the dinner table. The chairs were very, very old. They were handed down from the last McCormick clan to be in South Park, and they were chipped and otherwise fucked up. The dinner table had stains on it, but Kenny didn't feel like going into specifics about it. His mom brought out a package of frozen waffles, their usually feast. They hooked in an old toaster into the wall, and were set. Only thing in the way now was Stuart's novel for saying grace.
"Lord, we give thanks for all you have given us. Even though you have found it necessary to take our son Kevin from us-"
Kenny's heart dropped heavily into his chest. It had been a hard day. Kevin had been playing in the tunnel that had the railroad. It was where the railroad split into the old, unused tracks and the ones that were used for the train station just outside town. Kevin had been playing when he had been hit in the head with a rock. For some reason, nobody had saved him and he had been hit by a train. There was not even enough of a body to have a real burial. The casket had been filled with...Kenny had no idea. The funeral had been very small, one of the smallest this town had ever seen...but, considering that since everybody knew everybody almost everybody went to everybody else's funerals, it was okay. The Marshs, Broflovskis, Cartmans, and some of Kevin's friends as well a few McCormicks were there. Kenny had been a total wreck, and Stuart had been no help whatsoever, his beatings were worse than ever. Thank the lord almighty for Stan and Kyle. They had been true friends those days.
"-We realize that it is all in your grand scheme. Amen." With that, Stuart popped a waffle into your toaster. The table was quiet; the only sound was that of the fan in its twirling, lethargic, creaking motion and sound. After a minute, the waffle popped out and Stuart took it, and started eating it like it was the last edible item on earth. Kenny took another waffle and put it in. Still, the table was quiet....and more quiet...and still silence. Something was wrong here, Kenny thought. Very wrong. He got his mind off that when the waffle popped out, and his hand reacted with lightning speed and snapped it up. He brought onto his plate, looked at it for a second, then grabbed it and started to eat it. The next two minutes were mechanical. Grab the waffle. Take a bite. Chew. Chew. Chew. Take another bite. Chew. Chew. Chew. Then, leave the table.
Kenny knew that he was autonomous. He was a separate part of this family, and he was expected to wash up and then go to bed. Wash up? More like throw water on yourself. He walked up the creaking floor and opened the door to the bathroom. It was....workable. It was just like every other room in this house: faded, dusted, old, and peeled. Kenny walked up to the sink and turned it on, the water gushing out and into the drain underneath it. Kenny folded his hands and cupped some water, the water flowing off his hands. He pushed his face down and he raised his hands up and water meet face. The water was ice cold, and was oddly soothing, which was odd considering that it was ice fucking cold. He turned the facet off and opened the door and started to his room. He went into his room, took off his hood and jacket, and went to bed. Just as he lay down in his spring bed, he could hear muffled arguing. Just like every other night, the yelling got louder and eventually a thump could be heard, followed by more yelling and more thumps.
Such was the melody of the night.
Kenny was standing alone at the bus stop, and after a while Kenny wandered off into the town. There, his rich father met him and they went to see a movie together while his mom went to the store. Afterwards, they went to the park. Kenny played with his friends, who marveled at how well dressed he was. All was going well. His mother came to the park and hugged her husband.
Then, everything went wrong.
A car pulled up, and out of it came three men armed with shotguns. They ran to Kenny's dad. Stuart tried to run away, but a shotgun blast ripped into him and he fell dead. Then, they shot his mom. Kenny and his friends tried to run, but the men got into a car and the boys ran into the open road, where the killer's car pulled up and a man with a assault rifle popped out, just like Kenny's waffles. The boys ducked as the man fired, the bullets missing Kenny by mere inches and hitting the pavement around him and Stan. The car pulled away, and the boys glanced around. In horror, they saw a terrible toll. Cartman had been shot eight times, blood pouring out of his chest and head and his breathing failing. Kyle had been hit in the gut and arm, and the Kenny gave him a saddened look. The three boys now ran, Stan half dragging Kyle, away from a now speeding car. The car was catching up, and Kenny could see that by sticking with Stan and Kyle he would be slowed down...so he ran. He ran and left them behind. he stopped and looked back to see them at the top of the hill, the sun illuminating them just as shots were heard. The first shots were high and hit Stan, as Kyle had stumbled to the ground. The bullets went right through him, and he dropped and he tumbled down the hill. Kyle had little time to pity as he himself was the victim of a bullet avalache, his head gone in a display that was illuminated perfectly. the car then roared up the hill and hit the bodies as the man aimed at Kenny and fired....
Kenny woke up, screaming.
This was a common dream he had, scary as hell and as real as he. He got off his spring bed and fell onto the floor. Too fucking early. To fucking early to get up and walk around. He got up and staggered into his closet, where he got a parka and pants and put them on. He quickly checked the pockets of his parka...yes, this was the right one. He took out a pack of ciggaretes and stared intently at it. his friends had dropped smoking right after taking the habit up about a year and a half ago, right after they saw "ButtOut", a terrible anti-smoking dancing troupe. It had been so bad that they smoked to try to be the exact opposites of those dancing losers. The others dropped it easily, but Kenny rather enjoyed it now. It releived him of the terrible stress he had here in this house.He searched for his lighter, which he had stolen from Mr. Garrisons room....Fuck, no where to be found. Kenny put the cigs back and opened the door. The hallway was quiet, but at the end he could see a reflection of light. Odd. He was always the first up. That way, he could leave the house before his dad could beat him or make him pissed off, and he would get home late enough so that he would eat and go to bed. the only probelm came when he could'nt go to a friends. He then was forced to go home right after school, and that gave his dad enough time to.....the light was on. Somebody was up. He frowned and stepped out into the living room slash dining room. His dad was slumped in a chair nearest the door, and his mom was getting some hot water. It was the drink of the house.
"Kenny, hunny, we need to talk to you." his mom said. She had a large bruise on her right cheek and a cut on her lip.
"This is very....very important, son." Stuart said, his voice far away.
Kenny sat down at the very chair he had eaten dinner last night. his mom gave him a glass of water and got one for her and Stuart.
"Kenny, we have a idea on how to make some money" Stuart said.
Kenny looked up abruptly. Money? sweet jesus!
"We will rent Kevin's old room to somebody for like $500 a month."
Kenny looked down. This was low. kevin's room would now be occupied by a hobo with money, or worse.
"We already have a taker. I don't know his name, but he'll be moving in on Saturday."
"Well, okay. I got to go."
"It's like Six twenty."
"See ya."
With that, Kenny left. He ran out the door and into the night. The sun was not up yet, but when he left it was always dark. He would go to the bus stop and wait for a few hours, but today he felt like thinking and speaking with someone who knew about the world better than he. That man lived in Stan's neighborhood. That man was Chef. He was the boy's connection to the adult world, as well as a good chef in the Elementary school's cafeteria. He was black, and therefore recognizable in the almost one hundred percent white town. He was also level headed, which was what the kids needed. Kenny started jogging to his house, his feet pounding the snow and making footprints deep enough to house a family of mice. It was cold as hell, and Kenny cold feel the nip eating at his extremeties. But, it was better than what it would normally be. He was thinking, though the thoughts were scrambled. Too early, too much, and too fucking weak. Chef would be able to help. He always did. Kenny kept on jogging, and soon he was able to see Chef's house. Goddamn, this was a small town. He had ran here in like five minutes. He ran onto Chef's lawn. It was well-groomed, and there were hedges that were under the windows and flanked the stairs. It was a good house, but Kenny always wondered how he got the money. Chef was a chef. How could he afford this? Well, that was small fries right now. Kenny knocked on the door, and he could feel the holow sound echo in the house. There was no answer. Again, he knocked. He could hear something on the other side. He waited, and soon the doorknob was turning. The door opened, and chef stood there. he was average height, but he weighed alot. Who could blame him? he was a great cook. His stomach stretched the red shirt that he wore. He also had a chef's hat, which was at times comical to see. His pants were blue, and they were the only thing that fit him.
"Uhh...Kenny, how are you? I was bout to head out for work."He said. His voice was deep and very manly...which fit him. He was the ultimate ladies man.
"Hi Chef. I need to talk to you about something important."
"Of course. Come on in, I'll make some hot chocolate." Chef said. Kenny took note of the slight tiredness in his voice. Who could blame him? It was very early in the morning.
Kenny walked into Chef's house. the only really noticeable thing was the TV. Not the weird, killer TV. A new one. As big as the killer one minus the homocidal tendencies. Besides that, the house was the same as everybody elses. Odd...all the houses seemed to be the same. Chef motioned Kenny to sit on the couch, and he didm just that. he sat on the couch and got the remote for the TV. he clicked the on button and the TV quickly was on the local news. Drug use ws on the rise in this area, and it seemd that the police thought it was from one of the countless cabis and huts that surrounded this area and the people that lived there. Many of them called South Park home. On a free day, on top of the library, you could watch the town and see people go about their buisness. You could see kids and adults walk from the surrounding countryside and get shit from the town, then leave. It was kinda cool, in it's own way. Chef came back in.
"okay, Kenny. What's the problem?" Chef asked as he handed Kenny some hot chocolate. Kenny took it and soon put it down. It was steaming hot, the ceramic mug not helping anybody.
"Chef, i have a problem."
"What?"
"Okay. You know Kevin's old room?"
"Yeah." Chef said, a note of sympathy in his voice.
"Well, mom and dad have decided that it would be a good idea to rent it out for money. And a good amount, too. They even have a guy moving in on saturday."
Chef paused for a moment, then said "Well, the room is useless and this could help your family..but, that room does hold sentimental value."
Silence reigned for ten seconds. Kenny took a gulp from the hot chocolate. It was fucking hot. The liquid traveled down his throat, and it felt like there was a war going on in there, complete with napalm and flamethrowers.
"Kenny, this might be good for you and your family. This way, you get more income in one month than you guys get in six months. and, you loss nothing of use."
As soon as Chef said that, kenny at first felt mad. he took another gulp, gripping the mug strong enough to break iron. he put it down.
"Well, Chef, i gotta go. Bye." Kenny said. He quickly left the couch and picked up his backpack.
"Kenny, you're going to be okay, right"
Kenny stands for a moment."Yeah...I will" He finally says.
"Well, okay then. See you kids at lunch"
"Oh, and what's for lunch?"Kenny said, trying to be happy for a moment.
Chef smiles. "Salisbury steak." he said, his voice sending a great fucking message for all involved in the consumption of food in the South Park elementary school cafeteria.
"Cool." Kenny leaves the house. The door closed, Chef returning to his preperation for work. As soon as Kenny was away from the house and heading to the bus stop, he cursed to himself. Chef had been no help. Resigned to a day of wondering, Kenny walked over to the bus stop. He was here at least fourty five minutes before the others would be here, and it was the one time he could enjoy the beauty of this part of town. It was just between dowtown and Stan's neighborhood. It was a clear space, in between two small hills. Not big enough to impede walking, but large enough to not see the town or any houses. There were two trees and some bushes behind them, and in front of them were mailboxes. it always puzzled them on who had those boxes. There were no houses near the boxes. It was a good spot to think.
Kenny did just that.
Okay, this is a really short chapter. It used to be one big chapter, but my wordpad fucked up and it split up.
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Liane was a pretty good driver, Kenny thought. But then again, he really didn't have a lot to compare it to. They were making good time on the well paved roads, and soon they were in downtown. City hall was on the left side, and through the window with blue curtains Kenny could see the mayor looking out through window at her city. She must have felt powerful, looking out through the second tallest building in town. Knowing that was she said was law, and if it wasn't, Barbrady was too incompetent to stop her. Kenny really didn't care. The politics of the town were non-existent in the poor district. Kenny glanced at the clock in the car and it said 7:28. Shit. He needed to be home soon. Kenny looked about at the sky. It was now a twighlight, a mix of many colors that formed an awesome looking orange sky. The mountains rose up out of the ground and perched themselves in the sky, and they bathed in all the orange glory the sky offered. Kenny quickly glanced at the clock and then at where they were. They were just passing Stan's house, and that meant they were like twenty seconds away. Kenny un-buckled just as the van hit the railroad. Kenny was bumped up, and Miss Cartman took note of this but otherwise paid little attention to Kenny. They slowed up and the van came to a halt outside Kenny's house. Kenny opened the door.
"Have a nice day, Kenny." Miss Cartman said.
"Bye"
With that, Kenny shut the door and walked onto his lawn. It looked much worse than before. The ground was muddy, and the dog that was moving across it was caked in the brown stuff. Kenny gave it a good look. It was a golden retriever....it looked like the Rayke's dog that they "Lost" a few weeks ago. The Raykes were a well-off family over near Cartman's house. They had bought a dog and did not even name it when they decided that it was a bad dog. It had just vanished, but the people of the poor district now saw a dog that was only just growing out of puppyhood wondering the streets. It was afraid, and would shy away from all humans. And it did not have a change of heart now, as it ran away from Kenny and towards the second house, It's weak and fragile frame moving quickly away. Liane's van turned into Kenny's driveway, and stopped in front of the dilapidated garage, then pulled out and drove away, the sound puncturing the night sharply. Kenny walked up to his door and opened it. He was greeted by the smell of damp wood and noises like a creaking roof. The already peeled walls now had water rolling down them. His mother got a pot and put it under a stream of dripping water. The sound of the water hitting the metal pot was more metal than anything else, more infuriating than anything else, and more soothing than anything else. It was a really confusing sound.
He wore a red hat wit the word SCOTCH written in gold on it. He had brown hair that was terrible, plain terrible. He wore a blue buttoned shirt over a white T-shirt, and both were stained. He wore blue jeans that were torn and looked terrible. Now that Kenny thought about it, everything on his dad looked terrible.
"Kenny, where the hell where you? We've been waiting ten minutes for you to get here" Stuart said, his voice slurred because of the, you guessed it, scotch that he held in his left hand.
"I'm sorry." Kenny said. Stuart was about to respond when Mrs. McCormick interjected.
"Time for dinner.'
They all sat down and took their places at the dinner table. The chairs were very, very old. They were handed down from the last McCormick clan to be in South Park, and they were chipped and otherwise fucked up. The dinner table had stains on it, but Kenny didn't feel like going into specifics about it. His mom brought out a package of frozen waffles, their usually feast. They hooked in an old toaster into the wall, and were set. Only thing in the way now was Stuart's novel for saying grace.
"Lord, we give thanks for all you have given us. Even though you have found it necessary to take our son Kevin from us-"
Kenny's heart dropped heavily into his chest. It had been a hard day. Kevin had been playing in the tunnel that had the railroad. It was where the railroad split into the old, unused tracks and the ones that were used for the train station just outside town. Kevin had been playing when he had been hit in the head with a rock. For some reason, nobody had saved him and he had been hit by a train. There was not even enough of a body to have a real burial. The casket had been filled with...Kenny had no idea. The funeral had been very small, one of the smallest this town had ever seen...but, considering that since everybody knew everybody almost everybody went to everybody else's funerals, it was okay. The Marshs, Broflovskis, Cartmans, and some of Kevin's friends as well a few McCormicks were there. Kenny had been a total wreck, and Stuart had been no help whatsoever, his beatings were worse than ever. Thank the lord almighty for Stan and Kyle. They had been true friends those days.
"-We realize that it is all in your grand scheme. Amen." With that, Stuart popped a waffle into your toaster. The table was quiet; the only sound was that of the fan in its twirling, lethargic, creaking motion and sound. After a minute, the waffle popped out and Stuart took it, and started eating it like it was the last edible item on earth. Kenny took another waffle and put it in. Still, the table was quiet....and more quiet...and still silence. Something was wrong here, Kenny thought. Very wrong. He got his mind off that when the waffle popped out, and his hand reacted with lightning speed and snapped it up. He brought onto his plate, looked at it for a second, then grabbed it and started to eat it. The next two minutes were mechanical. Grab the waffle. Take a bite. Chew. Chew. Chew. Take another bite. Chew. Chew. Chew. Then, leave the table.
Kenny knew that he was autonomous. He was a separate part of this family, and he was expected to wash up and then go to bed. Wash up? More like throw water on yourself. He walked up the creaking floor and opened the door to the bathroom. It was....workable. It was just like every other room in this house: faded, dusted, old, and peeled. Kenny walked up to the sink and turned it on, the water gushing out and into the drain underneath it. Kenny folded his hands and cupped some water, the water flowing off his hands. He pushed his face down and he raised his hands up and water meet face. The water was ice cold, and was oddly soothing, which was odd considering that it was ice fucking cold. He turned the facet off and opened the door and started to his room. He went into his room, took off his hood and jacket, and went to bed. Just as he lay down in his spring bed, he could hear muffled arguing. Just like every other night, the yelling got louder and eventually a thump could be heard, followed by more yelling and more thumps.
Such was the melody of the night.
Kenny was standing alone at the bus stop, and after a while Kenny wandered off into the town. There, his rich father met him and they went to see a movie together while his mom went to the store. Afterwards, they went to the park. Kenny played with his friends, who marveled at how well dressed he was. All was going well. His mother came to the park and hugged her husband.
Then, everything went wrong.
A car pulled up, and out of it came three men armed with shotguns. They ran to Kenny's dad. Stuart tried to run away, but a shotgun blast ripped into him and he fell dead. Then, they shot his mom. Kenny and his friends tried to run, but the men got into a car and the boys ran into the open road, where the killer's car pulled up and a man with a assault rifle popped out, just like Kenny's waffles. The boys ducked as the man fired, the bullets missing Kenny by mere inches and hitting the pavement around him and Stan. The car pulled away, and the boys glanced around. In horror, they saw a terrible toll. Cartman had been shot eight times, blood pouring out of his chest and head and his breathing failing. Kyle had been hit in the gut and arm, and the Kenny gave him a saddened look. The three boys now ran, Stan half dragging Kyle, away from a now speeding car. The car was catching up, and Kenny could see that by sticking with Stan and Kyle he would be slowed down...so he ran. He ran and left them behind. he stopped and looked back to see them at the top of the hill, the sun illuminating them just as shots were heard. The first shots were high and hit Stan, as Kyle had stumbled to the ground. The bullets went right through him, and he dropped and he tumbled down the hill. Kyle had little time to pity as he himself was the victim of a bullet avalache, his head gone in a display that was illuminated perfectly. the car then roared up the hill and hit the bodies as the man aimed at Kenny and fired....
Kenny woke up, screaming.
This was a common dream he had, scary as hell and as real as he. He got off his spring bed and fell onto the floor. Too fucking early. To fucking early to get up and walk around. He got up and staggered into his closet, where he got a parka and pants and put them on. He quickly checked the pockets of his parka...yes, this was the right one. He took out a pack of ciggaretes and stared intently at it. his friends had dropped smoking right after taking the habit up about a year and a half ago, right after they saw "ButtOut", a terrible anti-smoking dancing troupe. It had been so bad that they smoked to try to be the exact opposites of those dancing losers. The others dropped it easily, but Kenny rather enjoyed it now. It releived him of the terrible stress he had here in this house.He searched for his lighter, which he had stolen from Mr. Garrisons room....Fuck, no where to be found. Kenny put the cigs back and opened the door. The hallway was quiet, but at the end he could see a reflection of light. Odd. He was always the first up. That way, he could leave the house before his dad could beat him or make him pissed off, and he would get home late enough so that he would eat and go to bed. the only probelm came when he could'nt go to a friends. He then was forced to go home right after school, and that gave his dad enough time to.....the light was on. Somebody was up. He frowned and stepped out into the living room slash dining room. His dad was slumped in a chair nearest the door, and his mom was getting some hot water. It was the drink of the house.
"Kenny, hunny, we need to talk to you." his mom said. She had a large bruise on her right cheek and a cut on her lip.
"This is very....very important, son." Stuart said, his voice far away.
Kenny sat down at the very chair he had eaten dinner last night. his mom gave him a glass of water and got one for her and Stuart.
"Kenny, we have a idea on how to make some money" Stuart said.
Kenny looked up abruptly. Money? sweet jesus!
"We will rent Kevin's old room to somebody for like $500 a month."
Kenny looked down. This was low. kevin's room would now be occupied by a hobo with money, or worse.
"We already have a taker. I don't know his name, but he'll be moving in on Saturday."
"Well, okay. I got to go."
"It's like Six twenty."
"See ya."
With that, Kenny left. He ran out the door and into the night. The sun was not up yet, but when he left it was always dark. He would go to the bus stop and wait for a few hours, but today he felt like thinking and speaking with someone who knew about the world better than he. That man lived in Stan's neighborhood. That man was Chef. He was the boy's connection to the adult world, as well as a good chef in the Elementary school's cafeteria. He was black, and therefore recognizable in the almost one hundred percent white town. He was also level headed, which was what the kids needed. Kenny started jogging to his house, his feet pounding the snow and making footprints deep enough to house a family of mice. It was cold as hell, and Kenny cold feel the nip eating at his extremeties. But, it was better than what it would normally be. He was thinking, though the thoughts were scrambled. Too early, too much, and too fucking weak. Chef would be able to help. He always did. Kenny kept on jogging, and soon he was able to see Chef's house. Goddamn, this was a small town. He had ran here in like five minutes. He ran onto Chef's lawn. It was well-groomed, and there were hedges that were under the windows and flanked the stairs. It was a good house, but Kenny always wondered how he got the money. Chef was a chef. How could he afford this? Well, that was small fries right now. Kenny knocked on the door, and he could feel the holow sound echo in the house. There was no answer. Again, he knocked. He could hear something on the other side. He waited, and soon the doorknob was turning. The door opened, and chef stood there. he was average height, but he weighed alot. Who could blame him? he was a great cook. His stomach stretched the red shirt that he wore. He also had a chef's hat, which was at times comical to see. His pants were blue, and they were the only thing that fit him.
"Uhh...Kenny, how are you? I was bout to head out for work."He said. His voice was deep and very manly...which fit him. He was the ultimate ladies man.
"Hi Chef. I need to talk to you about something important."
"Of course. Come on in, I'll make some hot chocolate." Chef said. Kenny took note of the slight tiredness in his voice. Who could blame him? It was very early in the morning.
Kenny walked into Chef's house. the only really noticeable thing was the TV. Not the weird, killer TV. A new one. As big as the killer one minus the homocidal tendencies. Besides that, the house was the same as everybody elses. Odd...all the houses seemed to be the same. Chef motioned Kenny to sit on the couch, and he didm just that. he sat on the couch and got the remote for the TV. he clicked the on button and the TV quickly was on the local news. Drug use ws on the rise in this area, and it seemd that the police thought it was from one of the countless cabis and huts that surrounded this area and the people that lived there. Many of them called South Park home. On a free day, on top of the library, you could watch the town and see people go about their buisness. You could see kids and adults walk from the surrounding countryside and get shit from the town, then leave. It was kinda cool, in it's own way. Chef came back in.
"okay, Kenny. What's the problem?" Chef asked as he handed Kenny some hot chocolate. Kenny took it and soon put it down. It was steaming hot, the ceramic mug not helping anybody.
"Chef, i have a problem."
"What?"
"Okay. You know Kevin's old room?"
"Yeah." Chef said, a note of sympathy in his voice.
"Well, mom and dad have decided that it would be a good idea to rent it out for money. And a good amount, too. They even have a guy moving in on saturday."
Chef paused for a moment, then said "Well, the room is useless and this could help your family..but, that room does hold sentimental value."
Silence reigned for ten seconds. Kenny took a gulp from the hot chocolate. It was fucking hot. The liquid traveled down his throat, and it felt like there was a war going on in there, complete with napalm and flamethrowers.
"Kenny, this might be good for you and your family. This way, you get more income in one month than you guys get in six months. and, you loss nothing of use."
As soon as Chef said that, kenny at first felt mad. he took another gulp, gripping the mug strong enough to break iron. he put it down.
"Well, Chef, i gotta go. Bye." Kenny said. He quickly left the couch and picked up his backpack.
"Kenny, you're going to be okay, right"
Kenny stands for a moment."Yeah...I will" He finally says.
"Well, okay then. See you kids at lunch"
"Oh, and what's for lunch?"Kenny said, trying to be happy for a moment.
Chef smiles. "Salisbury steak." he said, his voice sending a great fucking message for all involved in the consumption of food in the South Park elementary school cafeteria.
"Cool." Kenny leaves the house. The door closed, Chef returning to his preperation for work. As soon as Kenny was away from the house and heading to the bus stop, he cursed to himself. Chef had been no help. Resigned to a day of wondering, Kenny walked over to the bus stop. He was here at least fourty five minutes before the others would be here, and it was the one time he could enjoy the beauty of this part of town. It was just between dowtown and Stan's neighborhood. It was a clear space, in between two small hills. Not big enough to impede walking, but large enough to not see the town or any houses. There were two trees and some bushes behind them, and in front of them were mailboxes. it always puzzled them on who had those boxes. There were no houses near the boxes. It was a good spot to think.
Kenny did just that.