One short walk, two broken windows, and one awkward silence later, Kyle and Cartman sat atop desks in a dark, empty classroom. Kyle could have cried (if he hadn't already felt so dehydrated), he was so pleased to be there.

It was calm. And serene. It felt like when he held his breath and laid under the water of a warm bath. It felt like the wrong kind of joy that getting high with kids he hardly knew gave. It felt like getting away from South Park

Sitting there, with Cartman, Kyle tried not to think of his inane emotions, or of his psycho parents, or of his dropping grades, or of how they were all Cartman's fault.

He was tired of blaming people.

"Does the back of your head hurt?"

Kyle perked up, out of his mesmerizing state, and turned to see Eric's silhouette against the window. "What?"

"You know," Cartman said, not looking at him. "From when it slammed against the door. This morning."

For a moment Kyle didn't know what he meant, but when he reached behind himself and touched a sore bump, he remembered. Oh, the janitor's closet. "Eh… not really. Not noticeable, anyway."

Cartman sighed, heavy and exhausted. He turned around then, and walked up to Kyle. Even with the Jew sitting on a desk, he was still shorter then Eric. "Listen," He said, serious. "If you've got anything to surprise me left, tell me now. Because the rest of this is going to get a hell of a lot worse."

Kyle took a moment to think, considering it. Standing that close to Eric seemed off without feeling any pain or hormones or anything really. "You want a surprise?" He said, glancing back up at the other. "Right now, I don't hate you."

Cartman nodded, looking thoughtful. "Well," He mumbled, turning back around. "It's a start."

Back at the window, Eric was keeping watch. It was already seven, and he doubted anyone besides Pedro, the custodian, would be showing up. It seemed safe enough.

"Ok." He said, putting his hands together with a loud 'clap'. "We can stay here tonight. In the cafeteria there's canned fruit and pre-packaged drinks. In the home economics classroom there's all kinds of dye for your hair. And anything else we might need to disguise ourselves."

Kyle gave Cartman a confused face. What was he going on about? "What do you mean by 'the rest of this'? What are you planning?"

Cartman picked up his back pack and pulled out a map of the United States. Already Colorado had a bold, red 'x' over it.

"Remember when we crossed the country on tricycles in the fourth grade? Think of this as that, only on a wider scale." He smiled and pointed to a spot on the map that was circled with black marker. "We can stop here and make a little bit of quick cash."

Kyle gave Eric a bemused look. "We're running away?"

"No. We're using tactical offense to fulfill a part of a bigger game plan." Cartman wiggled his eyebrows. "Running away would be cowardly."

Kyle stepped back, away from Cartman and this crazy plan. "No. We can't just do that. What about Stan?"

"Stan will still be here, with his little problems and his little solutions. You will have vanished before anyone knows any better. Think about it. There's nothing they can do to Stan if he had nothing to do with it. Which he didn't. Wont." Clearly, Eric had thought this over.

Kyle bit his lip. Right now he wanted his inhaler, and his math textbook, and his life before sodomy. This didn't seem like the kind of choice a sixteen year old should have to make.

"You won't have to lift a finger. I got it all planned out." Eric explained. "See, look, we can take my car all the way to New Jersey before I'd be out of money for gas. Then we can truck stop-hop in Jersey and probably make it to Chicago from just that. If we're lucky enough, we can truck stop-hop all the way to Oklahoma. Then from there… Hey, are you listening?"

Kyle blinked away from the map, still feeling a bit shocked.

"I can't believe you expect me to just go along with this." He said, rubbing his forehead.

"You know you will. I've seen the future, and you're going with this." Cartman said matter-of-factly. "And, if you can't believe that, you won't believe that I will somehow manage to get you to get rid of your hat and dye your hair. Now pay attention, I'm trying to explain something."

Kyle shook his head, and his cell phone started to ring. He pulled it out of his jean pocket and looked at the number. "Oh." He said, wide eyed. "It's my parents."

Cartman quickly reached out to grab the phone, but Kyle twisted away, making them in a kind of coiled position. Eric held the wrist that was holding the cell phone and said, "Give it."

Kyle glared. "No. They might be worried." He tried to pull farther away from Cartman, but the other was holding his waist with the other arm.

"Kyle," Eric said, holding the other's waist tighter. "If you answer that phone, you'll never get away. You won't get what you want by answering that phone." He tried to pull the Jew's wrist closer, but that insane strength was on full blast.

"Kyle, if you don't give me that phone," Which was still ringing and vibrating in Kyle's hand. "You'll never see me again. I promise you'll never see me ever again. Or Stan." As if Cartman cared if Kyle saw Stan again. "You'll never be happy. You'll be alone with your mom and your doubt."

Cartman softened his hold, but still didn't let go. Now it was just more of a hug then a restraint. "Give me the phone. Give me the phone and I'll tell you the future."

"You first." Kyle said, not looking at Eric.

"Long term, we're all going to die. No surprise there. Short term, you'll live happily ever after."

Kyle and Cartman stood there for a moment, taking that in. All that made a noise was the phone, still ringing.

Kyle handed the phone to Cartman, who, without even letting go of Kyle's waist, threw it against the wall, making it smash into a rain of plastic, metal, and freedom.