Summary: The Mole hits Mr. Garrison unconcious with his shovel, so the kids ditch school in favor of Kenny's house, only to find that Kenny has gone phycho.
Rating: Rated PG-13 for uncensored swearing mostly, no smut or anything.
A/N: Auggghhh!!! There are so many plots, I can't hold on to them! They slip like water balloons from my grasp!
Kenny is Jesus! Stan's martial disagreement! Kyle with who?! Anyway, It just makes me want to pull a Tweek, but I must stay calm, and keep a handle, on my subplots.
Jesus Needs Help
Cartman surveyed The Mole with a wary eye.
He guessed, well, he hoped that it wouldn't matter if Kyle's little friend came to class, it wasn't like he was gonna be feeding the little British douche cheesey poofs or treating him like a friend, but he still couldn't help but worry.
It had in fact been an accident about leaving the alarm on, but Cartman had always felt that it was a great accident, he wished he could do that to Kyle some time.
But no-hoo, here comes Kenny, savior of the world, and brings him back!
Cartman resolved to insult Kenny extra, next time he got the chance.
"What's 6 x 3?", Mr. Garrison said impatiently. "How about you, Christophe?"
The wary eye that had been watching The Mole continued to look at him as he walked up to the board instead of answering from his seat, gripped his shovel, and hit Mr. Garrison over the head.
Mr. Garrison, in turn, hit the floor with a thump.
"Dude, you just -killed- Mr. Garrison.", said Cartman, awed.
"No fatass, he's only knocked out!", replied Kyle as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
The Mole gripped his shovel like a spear, and glared around at the class.
"None of you are going to tell what just happened, rIgHt?", he asked in a way that only left one answer.
Murmurs of yes where heard from most of the class, which included Cartman.
Wendy, however, it seemed had not promised to comply with his request, for she to was hit over the head as well.
Cartman found himself cheering him on.
"YEAAHH!!! DO KYLE NEXT!!!"
"Next, I zink I need to do you. I do not truzt you afzer you killed me once."
"No, I'm not gonna tell, dammit!!"
This was the truth, although Cartman knew it was highly unlikely anyone would belive him.
He tried to protect himself from the blow, and then,
WHAM.
Dear Jesus, did that hurt.
Cartman kept his eyes closed, praying The Mole would think he was unconscious, until he heard the running footsteps and the close of a door that signified his departure.
He opened his eyes slowly to find that, to his disappointment, no one was worrying about him I guess, he thought sadly, there are benefits to having someone like Stan around.
Cartman got up and rubbed his head a little.
"Well, I guess since there isn't a teacher anymore, there aren't any benefits to my staying."
"We could all go over to hang out at my house.", Kenny added hopefully.
"Kenny, your house sucks."
"Nu-uh, not since I remolded my room."
"Oh, so now it's not rotting so much?"
"It's better then just 'not rotting so much', it's cool now!"
"Sure...."
"Well," said Kenny, using a tactic Cartman recognized from himself, "if you don't want to use my all new GameStation 3, that is -fine by me-."
Cartman knew he was being controlled, but there wasn't anything wrong with it, really.
"Wait! Wait! I think maybe suddenly I can stand being in a house that's rotting and is falling down on top of me!"
"Okay, so let's all ditch before Mr. Garrison wakes up. C'mon you guys."
-------------------------
Kenny proudly threw open the door of his room.
What had one been, as Cartman constantly told him, a rotting mess, had been repainted, postered, all his old and grungy stuff had been thrown away and replaced by new stuff.
"Yay, my children, admire the beauty of my room and ye shall find happiness."
Everyone inspected the room, but Stan was the first to speak.
"Dude, what's up with all the Jesus posters?"
"Yeah dude," said Kyle backing Stan up as usual, "I think maybe you're going a little bit overboard on the Jesus thing."
It was true, Kenny's room was covered in posters of himself, photo shopped into famous paintings where Jesus should have been.
Some where easy to recognize, like The Last Supper, some no one recognized, but they all somehow appealed to Kenny.
In his room, Kenny was Jesus.
Cartman, of course, cut right to the chase.
"Well, what are you guys waiting for? Let's play video games!", he said, sitting down in front of the TV that Kenny had added, to look the games which where placed in a sloppy stack.
"Lesse.... Extreme Converter, you play Jesus, mehheshmehh meh mehh, etcetera.., Biblical Battler, well, that one's out, Kirby Krusifiction, Damn Kenny, I think you need some help!"
Kenny sighed.
It was probably true, he needed help, but was there really harm in playing Jesus? Everyone knew Jesus was a good guy, but he was more then a roll model for Kenny, more then someone he only looked to when he WWJD'd, Kenny wanted to -BE- Jesus.
The respect, having everyone look up to you, helping people, having magical powers, the list of why to be Jesus went on, and after sending himself to hell to save hundreds of peoples lives, the list of how he -was- like Jesus grew as well.
"Oh, all right."
Cartman swiched on the TV, and the familiar voice again said: "And now, back to Jesus and Pals, on South Park Public Access."
"Yay, my children," said Jesus softly, "follow me and ye shall find happiness."
Stan looked extatic.
"See? SEE?! What did I tell you guys?! Kenny is JUST LIKE JESUS!!", he announced to the room at large.
"And now, let's go to the phones."
Kenny grabbed the phone by his bedside, which was the only phone in the house that worked, and dialed the number.
Jesus, as he always did, answered Kenny's call first.
"We have Kenny McCormic on the line. Yes, my son?"
Kenny considered for a moment what he was going to say.
"Yes, my son?", said Jesus again, this time more impatiently.
"Jesus, did you ever have the problem that you where becoming just like your father?"
A/N Again: Sorry I took so long getting this chapter up! It was a combination of writer's block and an addictive new video game.
To all the people who have been reveiwing my story (you know who you are), thank you! I love getting feedback, but not as in the kind you get from a microphone. That feedback sucks.
Rating: Rated PG-13 for uncensored swearing mostly, no smut or anything.
A/N: Auggghhh!!! There are so many plots, I can't hold on to them! They slip like water balloons from my grasp!
Kenny is Jesus! Stan's martial disagreement! Kyle with who?! Anyway, It just makes me want to pull a Tweek, but I must stay calm, and keep a handle, on my subplots.
Jesus Needs Help
Cartman surveyed The Mole with a wary eye.
He guessed, well, he hoped that it wouldn't matter if Kyle's little friend came to class, it wasn't like he was gonna be feeding the little British douche cheesey poofs or treating him like a friend, but he still couldn't help but worry.
It had in fact been an accident about leaving the alarm on, but Cartman had always felt that it was a great accident, he wished he could do that to Kyle some time.
But no-hoo, here comes Kenny, savior of the world, and brings him back!
Cartman resolved to insult Kenny extra, next time he got the chance.
"What's 6 x 3?", Mr. Garrison said impatiently. "How about you, Christophe?"
The wary eye that had been watching The Mole continued to look at him as he walked up to the board instead of answering from his seat, gripped his shovel, and hit Mr. Garrison over the head.
Mr. Garrison, in turn, hit the floor with a thump.
"Dude, you just -killed- Mr. Garrison.", said Cartman, awed.
"No fatass, he's only knocked out!", replied Kyle as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
The Mole gripped his shovel like a spear, and glared around at the class.
"None of you are going to tell what just happened, rIgHt?", he asked in a way that only left one answer.
Murmurs of yes where heard from most of the class, which included Cartman.
Wendy, however, it seemed had not promised to comply with his request, for she to was hit over the head as well.
Cartman found himself cheering him on.
"YEAAHH!!! DO KYLE NEXT!!!"
"Next, I zink I need to do you. I do not truzt you afzer you killed me once."
"No, I'm not gonna tell, dammit!!"
This was the truth, although Cartman knew it was highly unlikely anyone would belive him.
He tried to protect himself from the blow, and then,
WHAM.
Dear Jesus, did that hurt.
Cartman kept his eyes closed, praying The Mole would think he was unconscious, until he heard the running footsteps and the close of a door that signified his departure.
He opened his eyes slowly to find that, to his disappointment, no one was worrying about him I guess, he thought sadly, there are benefits to having someone like Stan around.
Cartman got up and rubbed his head a little.
"Well, I guess since there isn't a teacher anymore, there aren't any benefits to my staying."
"We could all go over to hang out at my house.", Kenny added hopefully.
"Kenny, your house sucks."
"Nu-uh, not since I remolded my room."
"Oh, so now it's not rotting so much?"
"It's better then just 'not rotting so much', it's cool now!"
"Sure...."
"Well," said Kenny, using a tactic Cartman recognized from himself, "if you don't want to use my all new GameStation 3, that is -fine by me-."
Cartman knew he was being controlled, but there wasn't anything wrong with it, really.
"Wait! Wait! I think maybe suddenly I can stand being in a house that's rotting and is falling down on top of me!"
"Okay, so let's all ditch before Mr. Garrison wakes up. C'mon you guys."
-------------------------
Kenny proudly threw open the door of his room.
What had one been, as Cartman constantly told him, a rotting mess, had been repainted, postered, all his old and grungy stuff had been thrown away and replaced by new stuff.
"Yay, my children, admire the beauty of my room and ye shall find happiness."
Everyone inspected the room, but Stan was the first to speak.
"Dude, what's up with all the Jesus posters?"
"Yeah dude," said Kyle backing Stan up as usual, "I think maybe you're going a little bit overboard on the Jesus thing."
It was true, Kenny's room was covered in posters of himself, photo shopped into famous paintings where Jesus should have been.
Some where easy to recognize, like The Last Supper, some no one recognized, but they all somehow appealed to Kenny.
In his room, Kenny was Jesus.
Cartman, of course, cut right to the chase.
"Well, what are you guys waiting for? Let's play video games!", he said, sitting down in front of the TV that Kenny had added, to look the games which where placed in a sloppy stack.
"Lesse.... Extreme Converter, you play Jesus, mehheshmehh meh mehh, etcetera.., Biblical Battler, well, that one's out, Kirby Krusifiction, Damn Kenny, I think you need some help!"
Kenny sighed.
It was probably true, he needed help, but was there really harm in playing Jesus? Everyone knew Jesus was a good guy, but he was more then a roll model for Kenny, more then someone he only looked to when he WWJD'd, Kenny wanted to -BE- Jesus.
The respect, having everyone look up to you, helping people, having magical powers, the list of why to be Jesus went on, and after sending himself to hell to save hundreds of peoples lives, the list of how he -was- like Jesus grew as well.
"Oh, all right."
Cartman swiched on the TV, and the familiar voice again said: "And now, back to Jesus and Pals, on South Park Public Access."
"Yay, my children," said Jesus softly, "follow me and ye shall find happiness."
Stan looked extatic.
"See? SEE?! What did I tell you guys?! Kenny is JUST LIKE JESUS!!", he announced to the room at large.
"And now, let's go to the phones."
Kenny grabbed the phone by his bedside, which was the only phone in the house that worked, and dialed the number.
Jesus, as he always did, answered Kenny's call first.
"We have Kenny McCormic on the line. Yes, my son?"
Kenny considered for a moment what he was going to say.
"Yes, my son?", said Jesus again, this time more impatiently.
"Jesus, did you ever have the problem that you where becoming just like your father?"
A/N Again: Sorry I took so long getting this chapter up! It was a combination of writer's block and an addictive new video game.
To all the people who have been reveiwing my story (you know who you are), thank you! I love getting feedback, but not as in the kind you get from a microphone. That feedback sucks.