Ralph Jenkins woke with the cawing of the rooster. His wife Mary smiled at him sleepily and rolled over, pulling the floral duvet farther up her bare shoulders. He kisses her smooth skin and inhales. She tastes like vanilla and smells like roses. "Get back to bed as soon as you can." She whispers. He nods, smiling.

He grabs his hat off the kitchen table and grabs a bucket from underneath the sink. He walks out the back porch and smiling. He had loved this farm ever since he was a boy and would forever be grateful to his father for leaving it to him. His and Mary's troubles were gone from here on out. He whistles for the cows as he walks into their pastures. He knew some people preferred to put them in barns but the nights were still warm and like his Papi said, free cows were happy cows. He jumps over the picket fence and whistles again.

They had gotten pretty rowdy last night, he hoped nothing bad had happened to them.

The bucket fell from his grasp. The cows were huddling in a far away corner of the field, mooing desperately as a bloodied lump limped against the fence, mimicking their cries. He would recognize that white fur anywhere.

"Stella!" He gasped, rushing towards his wife's favorite cow. He almost puked. Large holes were ripped into her sides, her neck was hanging in flaps and perhaps the worst part? Her kind brown eyes her eyes had been plucked out, leaving gaping black holes. "Oh, girly, what happened?" He mourned, rubbing her head. He didn't know how she survived but he'd have to get the gun. He couldn't leave her to suffer. Then he'd have to dump her body. It would kill Mary to see her like this.

He jogged quickly back into the house. He grabbed the gun and after a moment, picked up the house phone. He only knew one person who would be awake at this hour.

"He-heey?"

"Aw, Stuart, man are you drunk?" He groaned.

"Sure am. Why?"

"I need you to get someone out here to dump a cow for me."

"Marriage not working out? Ah know how dat feels." He slurred.

"What? No, a cow! An actual cow! I need to get rid of it!"

"So you and Mary are good?"

"What? Oh my God, yes! We're fine! Look can you get someone or not?"

"Sure, I'll send mah son Kevin! He loves doin' shit like this!"

"Great send him over soon!" He hung up and ran back outside. Stella had collapsed and began to spasm on the ground, mooing loudly. He leaned down to pet her. "It's okay, girl." He soothed. "You're gonna be-ahhhhh!"

She bit down hard on his hand, grinding her teeth. He screamed and yanked it as hard as he could, fumbling for his gun. He pulled the trigger and she dropped her head. He gasped, feeling dizzy as he looked at his hand. He dropped his gun and staggered into the house. "Mary!" He screamed. "Mary!" She came running down the stairs in all her naked glory, tits bouncing with her hair. He didn't give it a second thought.

"Ralphie!" She gasped. "What happened?"

"Just get the fucking first-aid kit, Mary!" He snarled, almost collapsing. He was so dizzy, could feel the room spinning and there was an odd noise pounding in his ears.

bump-badump-bump-bump-bump-badump-bump.

"Oh Ralphie!" Mary sobbed, returning with the first aid kit. "What did you do to yourself? What happened?" She sniffled as she stood in the doorway. "Ralphie? Why are you looking at me like that? Ralphie?"

Craig woke slowly as he always did, slowly blinking himself back in consciousness. Tweek stared at him from across the room. "Uh, good morning?" He said, sitting up.

"Morning."

"Were you up all night?"

"Yes."

"Oh." Feeling suddenly awkward under that intense gaze, Craig stood and began to get dressed. Tweek continued to stare throughout the process and only looked away when Craig stepped into the bathroom. "So today's Friday." He said, brushing his teeth. "I'll take you to the safe house later today." Silence was the only response. "Tweek?" He turned around and yelped. The blonde stood mere inches away from him, gnawing at his lip. "How did you get loose?" He stammered. "Tweek?"

"Craig." He said simply. Craig's eyes widened as his best friend leaned forward and kissed his lips together. After a moment he closed his eyes and relaxed. His lips were cold and he tasted terrible but it was Tweek he was kissing and that made it amazing. He wrapped his arms around the familiar slim waist and smiled.

"I love you." He whispered when they pulled away.

Tweek smiled back, seemingly back to normal. "I love you too."

Craig kissed his cheek gently, tasting iron and smelling rotting meat. "I'll be home as soon as school's over. Bear with me for one more day, alright?" He murmured. "Remember I love you."

"Okay, Craig. Don't forget me, okay?"

"How could I forget you?" He laughed.

"That is some of the most fucked up shit I have ever heard." Kenny commented. "And I listen to Skrillex."

"Just another dirty Jew lie." Cartman agreed, shoving a Cloud Cake* into his mouth.

"It's true," Stan insisted. "Tweek's a fucking zombie. I saw him last night." He turned to his super best friend. "You believe me right, Kyle?"

"You know I do." He soothed.

"How did this happen?" Kenny asked. Despite his slight disbelief, he knew better than to completely disregard the notion. Fucked up shit happened in South Park all the time, this wouldn't even be the first time something like this had happened. "You don't think someone's gotten into the Worcestershire sauce again?"

"I don't know but we have to do something." Stan said, frustrated. "We can't let this get out of hand."

"There he is." Kyle hissed. They craned their necks to look. Craig walked nonchalantly with Clyde, hands shoved deep in his pockets. He caught their eyes before he raised an eyebrow. They all looked away awkwardly save for Cartman, who was busy sucking whipped cream from his fourth snack cake.

"Tucker..." Stan began as they passed.

Craig pursed his lips. "Marsh."

"Clyde." Clyde giggled, pupils blown wide.

"Craig, you have to listen to me. We know-"

"If you know what's good for you, all of you, you're gonna drop the junior detectives act before you end up hurt or worse." Craig warned under his breath, dragging his stoned friend away.

"Craig..." Stan called weakly. The darker hair boy turned. "He's not the same person anymore."

"I know."

"You have to let him go."

"Never." He swore. "If you're gonna fight me on this then I'm ready, Marsh."

"This isn't going to end well...for anyone." Kyle pleaded.

"I don't care. He's worth it."

"You have to let go."

"Answer me this, Marsh, would you let him go? Or would you hang on like you're condemning me for?"

Stan swallowed at his dark eyed gaze.

Like a shark's.

"I..."

The bell rang.

He blinked and Craig disappeared like a ghost, Clyde left stumbling behind, looking like a lost child. "Craig?" He called out desperately as he was swallowed by the crowd. His voice called even as he was no longer visible. "Craig?"

Kyle placed his hand on Stan's shoulder. Kenny did the same. "Stan." The blond said gently. "You more about this than you're letting on, aren't you?"

"Yes." He said.

"You know how this happened."

"Yes."

"And you know what to do." Kyle added.

"No."

"So what are we gonna do? Wing it?"

Cartman slammed his locker shut and began to waddle away. "Do what ya want, I'm goin' ta' class."

"It's what we always do." Stan rubbed at his eyes. "Usually works alright."

"And we've faced zombies before." Kyle said, trying to keep upbeat about having to re-kill his zombie classmate. He had been there the first time. He had stood feet away from the wreckage, smelled the burning flesh and melting metal. He had seen them pull body after body from the twisted cars, like children's toys that had been casually tossed to the side. The group of onlookers had grown louder and more hysterical at each face. At Tweek's limp, broken body they had gone wild, screaming and sobbing.

Kyle had puked on Bebe's shoes as she held him tight to her ample chest. She shushed and soothed him like a baby.

They still couldn't look into each other's eyes.

"We'll follow him tonight and take care of it then." Kenny offered.

The tardy bell rang.

"Not tonight. He'll be expecting it. We need to wait." Kyle mumbled, staring at where his hands met Stan's flesh.

Patriotic hands, red fingers, white knuckles, blue veins.

Did Tweek's hands change color?

Could you see his veins?

He had liked Tweek, had liked his crooked, goofy smile and quick wit. He had been as his mother described, a good boy.

"Such a good boy, such a shame...Kyle, bubbie, never let me catching you drinking..."

Tweek never drank. He sat at parties with a bottle of water he brought himself. Kyle drank. Stan drank. Craig drank. Kenny drank.

Not Tweek.

Because he was a good boy.

"Not long." Stan said.

"Not long." Kenny agreed.

"It's better we don't do this now, anyways." Kenny said as they began to walk to class. "My dumbass brother has the car anyway. Something about a cow."

Kevin took a swig of warm beer and spat out the window. The truck grumbled along the dirt road, spitting out dust and small rocks before coming to a jerky stop. He and two of his friends clambered out, jeering and cheering.

"Dayum." Louis said, staring at the massacred mess. "The fuck happened to that cow?"

"Yer mom." Kurtis grinned.

"Let's just get this done." Kevin said, wrapping his arms around the forelegs. Louis and Kurtis shrugged, bent down and grabbed one leg each.

"Shit fucking smells." Kurtis groaned, tossing it onto the bed.

Louis snickered. "Think if we stick around we'll get a peek at Mrs. Jenkins tits?"

"Nah, her husband's real protective. Heard he shoots on sight." Kevin grunted, opening the driver side. He finished his can and after a second thought, tossed it onto the grass.

"Fuck, let's get out of here then." Kurtis yelped.

They piled in. "What are we gonna do with this shit anyway?" Louis asked.

"Dump it."

"Where?"

"Dump."

Kurtis' eyes brightened. "Or we can have some fun."

"We're not dumping it on Tricia's lawn." Kevin said. "She and Amanda are real tight and I don't need her goin' to her about this."

"Nah, I'm over that bitch. I mean...let's dump it in the reservoir."

"The what?" Louis asked.

"Reservoir. Is' where we get water."

"Why the hell would we do that?" Kevin asked, disgusted.

"Why not? It's not like we bathe. And the only drink I need is liquid sunshine." He downed half a can of beer in a long, messy gulp. "Let's do it. It'll be funny, havin' everybody drink dead cow."

That was all it took to convince Kevin. "Let's do it!" He said.

Louis nodded, grinning. If his friends thought it was good, it must be good. "Yeah! Dead cow drink!"

They veered off the road, making a U-turn to the water treatment plant.

Kevin grinned as he drove but deep inside, something stirred as he looked at his bloody hands on the wheel. He wasn't dumb, just drunk. If he didn't have a six pack swishing around him maybe he would've noticed.

Something was very, very wrong.

*Cloud Cakes are pastries made by Little Debbie. They're essentially twinkies...they're exactly Twinkies.