A/N: Hey everyone, I'm sorry it took me so long to update this. I know you guys are probably pissed, so I proudly present my excuse:

Sorry. My Bad.

Jk, jk. There's just been a lot going on lately and I haven't had much time to work on my fanfics. But look on the bright side: Aren't you glad I'm not dead? X3

-_- P.S. If you're not, please do yourself a favor and nominate yourself for the Biggest Douche in the Universe award.

I stared at the rifle's shiny, polished wooden surface and felt a huge grin spread across my face. That fat-ass will never know what hit him, I thought maliciously.

With Cartman out of the way, Kyle was sure to be mine...

"Stan, I need you to-What the hell are you doing with grandpa's gun?"

Dammit! I'd know that voice from anywhere...it was my nosy ass dad, probably coming to to ruin my chances of making Kyle mine.

My eyes darted around the room rapidly and sweat began to creep down my forehead.

"Uh...n-nothing, dad." I stammered.

"Stan, you know you're not supposed to bring guns into the house. You go put this gun back right now."
"But, dad, I-"
"NOW, STANLEY!"

"No!"
"DO IT OR YOU'RE GROUNDED!"
"No, dad! I've worked too hard for you to just waltz in here and be a fucking buzzkill!"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Kyle..."
"Oh brother...Don't tell me you guys are gay."

"Not yet..."

"What?"

"There's a reason I need this gun, dad...There's only one way to fix what's been done."

"...Have you guys done it yet?"

"No...because of Cartman, my life is ruined."

"H-hey Sharon, Stan's having butt buddy issues, could you come here for a sec?"

"What are you talking about, Ra-STANLEY! What are you doing with that gun?"

"Uh, apparently Cartman stole Kyle from Stan, so now he wants to kill Cartman."

"STANLEY! I can't believe this!"

"Yeah, Stanley, it's almost ten thirty, you know damn well you're supposed to be in bed by eight!"
"RANDY!"
"What?"
"Stanley, you should know better! Haven't we taught you to be better than that?"

"Yeah, Stan, if you're going to kill people, you better make sure you do it before eight thirty."

"RANDY!"
"Oh, and clean up your mess when you're done."

"Randy, I've had enough, you sick, twisted bastard!"

"What, Sharon? I'm just telling him to follow your rules."

"What the hell is wrong with you? Stanley shouldn't be killing people AT ALL!"
"Sharon, we're his parents. If Stan wants to kill people, then we should respect that."

"RANDY!"
"What? Parents are supposed to be supportive, Sharon!"
"Well not if our son wants to kill people!"

"Look, if Stanley wants to kill people, then let him, Sharon. I don't see a problem with it."
"You don't see a PROBLEM? RANDY, murder is a felony! We're supposed to look out for our children, and that includes making sure they don't commit crimes!"

"Well excuse me, Sharon, I wasn't exactly given an instruction manual when you crapped Stan out of your snatch!"

"RANDY!"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry, geez...Look, Stan, the point is you can't-...S-stan?"

"Oh my God, Randy, where'd he go?"
"This is your fault, Sharon! He probably left while you were criticizing me!"

"Me? You're the one who wanted to let him kill people!"

"Well maybe I was just trying to be supportive!"

"Look, that doesn't matter now! Stan could be anywhere...We have to go look for him."

"Yeah, that's okay, you go ahead...I'll stay behind and...guard the house."

"No, Randy, you're coming with me."
"Aw, dammit..."

A/N: Randy is a jerk...

Anyway, stay tuned for the next chapter.

Gosh, that sounded so gay. Oh well. Y'all still love me, right? :)