Enjoy, Reviews are nice, I own nothing.
"Cartman, there's a sixth grader in the auditorium right now who's giving away twenty bucks to fourth graders!" Kyle said excitedly to Cartman while the latter was at his locker.
"Yeah right," Eric said. "I'm not falling for that, asshole."
"No, I'm serious!" Kyle pulled out a crisp twenty-dollar bill out of his pocket as proof. "He's just giving them out!"
Cartman looked at the bill hungrily, as if it were a double-bacon cheeseburger. "So there's seriously a guy in the auditorium giving out twenty-dollar bills just like that?"
"Yeah dude! Go check it out! Well, I have to go tell Craig and those guys too, see ya!" Kyle ran on ahead, supposedly to spread the news of free money.
Cartman closed his locker and ran to the auditorium, eager to get twenty bucks.
. . . . .
"Are you sure, Kenny? I can't sing," Butters asked his friend, who was grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him to the auditorium.
"Yeah, I'm sure the music teacher told me to get you because she wanted to give you singing pointers," Kenny replied, his voice deadpan.
He really didn't like the idea of lying to Butters, but he needed to learn his lesson that helping Cartman was not a good thing.
They stopped just outside the auditorium.
"Good luck," Kenny said, shoving Butters through the doors.
He then pulled out some chains and locks from his parka and locked that door and the one a few feet away.
. . . . .
"Hey Eric!" Butters called out when he saw his friend pacing around in the space between the stage and the front row. "Did the music teacher asked you to come here too?" He was in the back of the auditorium and walked past the rows of seats towards his friend.
"Shifty Jew! I never should have trusted him," Eric muttered under his breath as he was coming to terms with the fact that he was lied to and there was no sixth grader giving away free money.
"Hey Eric," Butters said again when he was next to him.
"Wha-Butters? What are you doing here?" He asked, snapping out of his rage-fueled reverie.
"Music teacher asked me to come."
"Oh, well she's no here yet. I'll see you later, I need to go kick Kyle's ass."
Cartman walked to the side door next to him.
"Okay. See ya, Eric." Butters waved good-bye.
When Cartman pushed the door handle to get out, the door wouldn't budge.
"What the hell?" He said. "This is the door I came in from, how is it locked?"
He kept trying, but the door was definitely locked.
"Maybe try the back doors. I came in through there, and they were open," Butters offered.
Cartman walked towards the back and Butters followed him. The doors were locked.
"Oh, hamburgers," Butters whimpered, rubbing his knuckles together.
"No. No!" Cartman rammed into the door, but it just wouldn't budge. "Hey! There's kids in here, let us out!" He banged on the door.
"Maybe we can try the backstage doors?" Butters turned around to head back to the stage but stopped. "Hey look, someone left board games and a picnic basket on the stage," he pointed and walked towards it.
Cartman turned around and his heart sank. He knew exactly what was going on now.
"This is child abuse! Now let us out right now!" He continued to yell and bang on the door.
"Hey, there's body oil in here too!" Butters called out as he was looking through the picnic basket.