Pushing Daises

A/N: ...Hey. I forgot to have a disclaimer last chapter. And I almost like, pissed myself. I'm one of those people that is sure FFnet checks that shit, like, they're going to look at this and be like 'WHO DOES TWEEKERS THINK SHE IS, TREY PARKER?!' Of course I don't think I'm Trey Parker, because I'm not that good of a singer. Anyway, point is, you know. I have a disclaimer now. So FFnet can't be a Copyright Nazi at me. Because, of course, people might assume Matt and Trey were writing this. When we all know that Matt has said before that he doesn't read fanfiction because he's afraid it will be really good. I'm rambling.
I also have a slight complaint. I didn't get e-mail alerts for about half of the reviews, so I couldn't reply to them and Jesus knows I love replying to reviews. Seriously, he knows, I told him. So if I didn't reply to your review, I'm sorry. But like ah, thank you guys so much, your reviews were all really nice and made me happy. :D
Disclaimer: Matt Stone and Trey Parker are owned by South Park.

Chapter Two: Exposure

ex·po·sure – noun.
1. The act of exposing.
2. Disclosure, as of something private or secret.
3. An act or instance of revealing or unmasking, as an impostor, crime, or fraud.
4. A laying open or subjecting to the action or influence of something.
5. The condition of being exposed without protection to the effects of harsh weather, esp. the cold.
6. A putting out or deserting, especially of a child, without shelter or protection; abandonment.

"There is no way Kenny McCormick wrote that," is all Clyde has to say. He has said it numerous times since Craig called him hours ago and he is still saying it as they enter school together. Craig is half-listening and half-looking for his spazzy other half, Tweek Tweak. When he sees him, sniffling into tissues and looking dismally sick he lets out a small cry of a joy and leaves Clyde to sigh on the sidelines. This is how Clyde Donovan often feels, especially since he's a second string player on the Park High School football team. He's never even made it into a game.

Nevertheless Clyde doesn't despair. He has a few good things in life. His hair, for one, is near perfect. No one would argue with this and it's the main reason he gets dates. No one can pass up an opportunity to play with Clyde Donovan's hair, it's just something one must do. Secondly Clyde has Token Black, his best friend. And unlike most pairs of best friends in South Park they spend their time playing video games and talking about girls. And maybe Craig Nommel. But that was only once and it was Clyde's first time drinking something besides cheap beer, in his defence.

The third thing that Clyde has is a two-for-one, girls and Kenny McCormick, something that most people don't understand. Clyde walks through a giggling group of the former to reach the locker of the latter and says an unceremonius "Hey," in greeting. Kenny is having trouble with his combination, he is swearing at his locker like it can somehow hear him. Clyde doesn't think much of it, Kenny isn't exactly known for being the most typical person in the world. What can you expect from someone who dies every few weeks?

"Have you seen Craig?" Kenny asks, suddenly, looking up at the brunet who narrows his eyes. What is it with people always wanting to know about Craig? Is Craig Nommel some sort of new Jesus Christ? Are the Jews going to claim that he's their Son of God? Clyde is kind of sick of people assuming that he knows everything about Craig and thinking that he will always know where Craig is. He doesn't. That is complete bullshit.

"He's over there with Tweek," Clyde replies, nodding his head slightly. He and Kenny both look to the best friends for, if nothing else, a moment of amusement. They are not quite what one would expect. Craig often loses his temper although he obviously cares about Tweek, and the blond looks near to tears half the time they're together. The other half, though, is the important half. That's the half that no one sees besides the two of them. Currently Tweek is crying out something about how he's sorry he didn't call Craig back, but he was sure he had pneumonia and pneumonia kills people, is not Craig aware of this fact?

"Oh," Kenny says, tearing his eyes away from the two to refocus on the damned locker.

"Let me do it," Clyde offers, holding out his German book to the blond, who takes it and smiles in appreciation before rattling off the three numbers. It takes Clyde one try and then the locker is open. Kenny stares inside for a long moment and then closes it without taking anything out. "What was that for?" Clyde whines. He does that a lot, but it shouldn't be mistaken for him being a crybaby, he just can't stand the inane goings on of the town he lives in, he's been sick of it for years now, nothing makes sense in South Park and Clyde likes things to make sense.

"Have you seen my notebook?" Kenny asks distractedly, looking around the halls like there's a mountain lion loose and it's only a matter of time before it pounces. "It's red and it has my name on it. I really kind of need it back." Clyde doesn't answer. He stares at Kenny for a long time before Kenny looks at him again. "What?"

"I think...I think Craig has it," Clyde finally says, his eyes widening. He scurries off like a scared little animal, probably to find Token, not to tell him what he now knows - that, good God, Kenny did write that - but to talk to the only rational person he has ever met. Kenny, on the other hand, is taking this in. He looks towards Tweek and Craig again and sees that they're discussing something that he assumes must have everything to do with him and his notebook. Kenny's mind takes in the facts, mixes them together and digests them. There is no eloquent way to put it, he is screwed, majorly.

"Hey, Kenny!" He is even more screwed, Craig is watching him, Butters Stotch has just greeted him in front of everyone. Holy shit, everyone is probably watching them. Kenny is frozen, he is staring at the floor, he is not acting like himself, Butters is cocking his head to side and frowning, Kenny doesn't like it when Butters frowns, he wants to fix it, but he can't because Craig is watching and Craig will mess everything up. "K-Kenny?" Butters repeats the blond's name.

"I have to go to class," Kenny manages to say before he bolts away. Butters is left standing in the hallway alone. It has happened to him before, many times. But it has never happened when he is talking to Kenny. They have a strange bond that very few would expect, but it is there. Perhaps it is not the sort of bond that Stan and Kyle have, perhaps they are not 'best friends' so to speak, but Butters is still left with an empty feeling in his stomach as he watches Kenny hurry away. He doesn't see Craig Nommel watching him from across the hallway, but he wouldn't think much of it if he did.

Kenny, meanwhile, is trying to find Eric Cartman, because, really, this all his fault.

Eric Cartman is in the cafeteria. This is not an entirely odd thing, in fact, it is an entirely normal thing. The odd thing is that he is not eating anything, rather he is whining to Stan Marsh and Kyle Broflovki about how he isn't eating anything. Kyle looks less than happy, Stan looks less than or equal to happy, Cartman is angry squared; it is a math equation in emotions. Kenny McCormick has just figured out that if his problems are the summation of Craig Nommel taking his red notebook and the fact that he dropped dead for no apparent reason, well, then the only logical answer is that Cartman is to blame.

"What did you do to me?" the blond asks harshly, slamming a hand down on the table that his three friends are sitting at. Stan is doing his homework, because Stan never does his homework the night before, and he glares at Kenny as several sheets of paper scatter to the ground. Kyle doesn't seem to mind, probably because there's no question as to who Kenny is pissed at. Cartman blinks.

"Whatever do you m - " he begins, tilting his head to the side in fake innocence.

"Don't even try that with me, fatass," Kenny hisses, pointing right at the accused. "That may work on our dumbass parents and maybe Butters does what you say when you pretend to be nice. But that's all it is: pretending. And normally I wouldn't give a fuck. But this is your fault. What did you do to me this time? Why did I die yesterday?" He is rambling and he does realize it. He does have a right to be angry, but Kenny is also aware that this isn't all Cartman's fault, the large boy is simply the easiest to blame.

"I didn't do anything to you," Cartman spits, matching Kenny in anger. "Jesus Christ, first they're out of Poptarts and now this? Honestly, screw you guys, I'm going to homeroom." Cartman leaves and Kenny lets out a frustrated groan, sinking into the seat next to Kyle. The redhead sighs and sits back in his chair. Stan is putting everything back into order, muttering something about how things just keep getting more and more fucked up around here.

"What did Cartman do?" Kyle asks as he wordlessly helps Stan find the papers he needs. "I mean, he's done some stupid shit, but I haven't seen you get that pissed at him since we were in elementary school and he ripped on you for being poor all the time."

"He stopped ripping on me for being poor?" Kenny asks, staring off into space and biting his nails. It's a bad habit he picked up at some point. Kenny has more bad habits than he can count. Biting his nails, smoking once a week, writing his most intimate details in a read notebook that anyone could read and, oh yeah, dying and coming back to life. It just isn't healthy, his life or, at times, lack thereof.

"I guess not," Kyle replies with a shrug. "But, I mean, what did you expect? Most people change over the years, but Cartman - "

"Yeah, yeah, more psychological bullshit from Kyle Broflovski, I get it." Kenny waves a hand in the air as he stands up. "You over-analyze things, y'know that? Maybe Cartman's just an asshole, ever thought of that? Because that's all it is. That's all it's ever going to be. I know in your mind you should learn something new about people every day, but that's now how the world works."

"I never said that was how the world worked," Kyle replies. Stan makes a small noise that almost sounds like a laugh and Kyle glowers at him.

"Well, dude, come on, you do kind of try to give everyone, like, life lessons every day," Stan says as he starts to write down his homework.

"I am definitely staying out of this one," Kenny decides when he sees the look that passes over Kyle's face at that remark. And he makes the right choice by leaving then. Because by the time Kyle and Stan got to their first classes, AP Calculus and Astronomy respectively, they aren't best friends any more. Not that this is anything to be worried about. It has been happening since the beginning of Junior year or at least that's when it started to get bad. Cartman says that if anyone is Stan's on-again-off-again girlfriend, it's Kyle. Kyle says Cartman can go to Hell. And Cartman...well, he probably will.

The attendance office has a dillema on it's hands. Kenny McCormick had been in school for the first hour of the day. Now, suddenly, he is absent. There is no record of him signing out of school, calling home sick, not even a call down from one of his teachers telling him that he's died again. Because, really, Park High School keeps good records on who died during the school day, they wouldn't miss something like that. But somehow Kenny McCormick has dissapeared from the building. In a town as small as South Park there is not a large population of high school students, they tend to notice when someone goes missing.

But Kenny has not gone missing. He is quite certain of where he is, it is just that no one else is certain of this as well. Kenny is not as far away as the secretary in the attendance office believes he is. "He could be in China for all we know!" she had cried earlier. The secretary is, admittedly, a bit of a worrier. Kenny is not in China, he wouldn't be caught dead there. Well, he might be caught dead, but certainly not alive, not of his own free will. Child labor isn't exactly Kenny's thing. No, Kenny has decided to take a sick day.

Not that he's actually sick. Tweek is sick, with some sort of cold that will probably soon be spreading through the school like wildfire because no one can keep their hands to themselves, but Kenny's version of sick? Is sitting in Kyle's car a few blocks away from the school and smoking a cigarette. He sneezes and groans to himself, he is probably catching what Tweek has, and knowing his luck it will turn into pneumonia and he will be dead within the week. Kenny perfers the quick deaths to things like this. Dragging things out is so pointless. Sometimes Kenny kind of agrees with the dead French boy, God is such a cocksucker.

While Kenny sits in his car and smokes a cigarette, Craig sits in class and plans. He's feeling a bit less milicious today, because, really, Tweek. But he's still not in the best of moods, seeing as he is Craig Nommel and all. So maybe his first plan - which involved the entire student body knowing just what Kenny McCormick really thought of Butters Stotch - wasn't the best way to go. Craig's thinking subtly might be the best method in this case. Because, well, Kenny knows that someone has his notebook. Craig isn't aware that the blond knows who actually has it, but he is aware of the fact that Kenny isn't in school. And to Craig this simply means that Kenny is freaking out, and he's not wrong about that.

Kenny is freaking out. Not because there's a chance someone knows. Not because that person might expose him to the school. But because it's a crush, a stupid little crush he has on Butters Stotch. He doesn't care if people know. If he was dating Butters he wouldn't care if people knew. He wouldn't care if people knew he played for both teams. But it's a secret and Kenny does not take secrets lighly. No one knows anything about him liking Butters, it's his own business, and now Craig - seriously, Craig - knows.

Kenny would feel the same exact way if he liked Wendy Testaburger. He would feel the same exact way if he liked Kyle Broflovski. It's not who he likes, but the simple fact that he does like someone and he doesn't want anyone to know and now Craig is going to ruin that. Kenny buries his face in his hands and lets the dying cigarette roll to the floor of the car. God, he can only imagine Craig telling everyone. He can only imagine the rejection on Butters' face, the laughter from Cartman, the surprise from everyone else and maybe a few people muttering "I knew it!"

It is devestating to the blond. So much of his life - so much of his death, really - has been an exposition for everyone else and he has never liked it. The one thing that was really his, the adoration he felt for Butters Stotch, and it can't even stay a secret.

"Goddammit," he mutters. There's a tapping at the window. Kenny looks up to see Kyle looking in. The redhead waves a gloved hand and nods towards the passenger seat. Time went by fast, Kenny thinks, as he shifts over so Kyle can get in to drive.

"I skipped too," Kyle says, turning the key in the ignition. He hands the other key over to Kenny. Kenny has a key to Kyle's car. Kenny can't afford a car, Kyle can, and so they share it as evenly as they can. "School's almost over though."

"Only you," Kenny says, leaning back in the passenger's seat, "would skip school when it's almost done, Broflovski."

"And only you," Kyle retorts, pulling his green ushanka down so it covers every red hair, looking both ways, and then recklessly taking off like the good teenager he is, "have the ability to piss Cartman off for a whole day without even being in school, McCormick. I appreciate it, really, I do."

"Least I can do," the blond says with a grin. He looks out the window, it's going to snow soon. Not surprising, considering where he lives. It's just barely February, the one month that Kenny has a hard time spelling. February is such a useless month, Kenny thinks, it's the shortest month of the year always and every four years it has to fuck up the number of days. As for Valentine's Day, ha, maybe it once had meaning, but now it's all antiacids in the shape of body organs and awkwardness if no one gives you a lame card with such heartfelt words as 'BE MY VALENTINE?' And then there's the pressure to have someone on Valentine's Day or to sit alone and feel utterly useless to the human race if you have no one to make out with.

Valentine's Day is lonely no matter what, because it isn't real.

Sometimes Kenny astounds himself with the sheer amount of force and belief he has in his meaningless thoughts.

"So why'd you skip, then?" Kyle asks, biting on his lip. They all have bad habits. Kenny briefly wonders if there is such a thing as good habits, like cleaning your room or washing your hands or brushing your teeth. Then he remembers that that's a mental disorder.

"Just...just a shitty day from the start, I guess," Kenny responds. It's a little white lie. So white, in fact, that it's probably more of an albino lie. Becuase it has been a shitty day from the start, Kenny is simply leaving the 'why' out of the statement. Kyle won't ask why, because Kyle is not a very nosy person. The redhead just nods and accepts the explanation, he knows there's more to it than what Kenny is telling him, but that's not exactly his problem, now is it? "How about you?"

"Well," Kyle starts with a little sigh. Kyle's problems, on the other hand, are everyone's problems. He broadcasts them to the entire world without even saying a word, he wears his emotions on the orange sleeves of his jacket, and sometimes they even spill out to his green gloves. One look at the Jew and you can know how he feels - angry, happy, sad, indifferent, you name it and Kyle will tell you why. He wants you to know why, he wants to explain himself and he doesn't do a half bad job in doing do. "Well, it's Stan."

"No shit," Kenny tells him, and Kyle glares at him. "Continue, continue, though, what did Stan do this time?" Because according to Kyle it's always Stan's fault and according to Stan it's always Kyle's fault. By the end of the night they'll be playing Guitar Hero together, but for right now Kyle is super-hardcore angry and Stan is stuck either walking or taking the bus home.

"He's...he's stupid," Kyle spits as he slams on the breaks at an intersection. Kenny stares at Kyle, because 'stupid' isn't exactly the harshest insult in the entire world. It's funny how Kyle can rip most people apart with biting words, but when it comes to Stan the best he can do is call him 'stupid.' "And he like...doesn't listen. I mean since when do I give people life lessons?" Kenny opens his mouth to point out, well, since about third grade. "More than him I mean. He does it too. So he's stupid. Really fucking stupid."

"You're upset because he pointed out something that was true?" Kenny asks as Kyle makes a sharp turn. Something falls off the back seat but neither of them notice it. They probably should notice it, considering it's going to cause some problems later, but for right now both the blond and the redhead are busy conversing about their raven-haired friend, so the tiny sound of shattering glass from the birthday present Stan got Wendy goes completely unnoticed.

"Well," Kyle says again. He often starts sentences out with 'well,' and if anyone dares to point it out they are subjected to the wrath of Kyle Broflovski. Which is not a very pleasant wrath at all. "Well it's not so much that. I can take the fact that he pointed it out, but he acted like it was stupid or something, but he does it too. So he's stupid. You know what I mean?"

"No, Kyle, that's retarded," Kenny informs his friend. Kyle grimaces but listens to what Kenny has to say. Kenny is one of the few people in the world who can actually ignore the Broflovski Bad Mood, live through it and, sometimes, even fix it. "You're retarded, you know that? I mean, you Stan, half the time, you guys run around all gay and shit and happy and then the other half of the time you're like this. Every time without fail you end up being friends again when you save Stan from an asthma attack or whatever a few hours later any way. The real problem isn't you guys, it's Wendy."

"Wendy?" Kyle says, skeptically. "What does Wendy have to do with us?"

"Uh, besides, like, everything?" Kenny points out. "If you will recall, everything is always better between you two when Wendy isn't in the picture. And it's not exactly her fault either, you're just a jealous bitch." Kyle sighs. Kenny is right. He is a bit of a jealous bitch. "By the way, did you talk to Butters' at all today?"

"Who talks to Butters?" Kyle asks, blatently. He does not mean it in the sense that talking to Butters would be a deplorable act. They all talk at Butters, but only two people really talks to him. If Butters just so happens to be around they don't mind. He is like some sort of add-on, always in the background somewhere, though hard to notice if you aren't looking for him. What Kyle means is that there are only people in the world who talk to Butters - Kenny and Cartman - and the idea that anyone else would do such a thing is a bit absurd. Kenny doesn't appreciate this sentiment. Kyle shrugs. "Sorry, dude, but why would I talk to Butters?"

Kenny frowns. In his opinion, he can't see a reason why someone wouldn't want to to talk to Butters.

It's almost daybreak when Kenny first notices that he's missed a few calls on his cell phone as he rolls over in bed, unable to sleep. It isn't a good cell phone. Everyone else's parents buy them cell phones that can take pictures and go on the internet. Kenny's phone calls people, which apparently just isn't enough these days. He pays for the bill himself by working at Harbucks, or at least he pretends to work at Harbucks, mostly he just shows up to get his paycheck and Tweek makes a concerted effort to lie for him - because if they figured out that Kenny wasn't coming to work they might think he has bad friends. And if Tweek's parents think he has bad friends then they won't let him hang out with any of his friends. Which would mean not hanging out with Craig and that's almost as bad as not drinking coffee.

Almost.

Kenny doesn't care much, he has a different blond to look after, Tweek can cry to Craig if he needs to. The missed calls on Kenny's phone are all from one person. Kenny calls Butters back as he rummages through the clothes on his floor, trying to find something that isn't utterly disgusting. It isn't as easy as your might think. As he picks up a dark green sweater and 'hmm's at it the answering machine picks up on the phoneline, telling him the Stotch's aren't there right now but they'll get back - shit.

Luckily enough for Kenny no one is up at four in the morning, at least no one that is looking out the window to see hurrying down the street in boxers, a t-shirt and his old, ratty orange parka, the one that barely fits and might as well be in the garbage with his life at this point. He finds Butters sitting outside on his front porch, staring at the snow covering his yard.

"You called me?" Kenny breathes the words out in a huff of exhausted air. Their eyes meet. Butters' smiles and so does Kenny. These are the times when it is good to be alive.

"Y-yeah," Butters says as Kenny sits next to him on the porch. "I just wanted to talk to someone...but ya weren't answerin' the phone and all. An' then my dad got mad because it's really late, an' I told him that I just couldn't sleep, because sometimes I can't sleep, so he told me to go outside so I'm not disturbin' them or nothin'."

Kenny is well-versed in these situations. Before, years back, when he first started watching out for Butters, he used to get angry at Butters' parents. But he has since learned that it doesn't help much to get angry at people like the Stotch's. Much like it doesn't help to get mad at his own parents. The only difference is that Kenny's parents will yell right back at you. Butters' parents can do much worse and no one really seems to expect it from them.

"Do you want to go to my house or something?" Kenny asks, watching as Butters exhales a fog of breath into the air with a small smile. Kenny used to do things like that when he was a kid. Butters' still does things like that.

"Aw, heck, but the sun's about to rise," Butters says in answer, leaning back on the porch to look up at the sky.

"What's so great about the sunrise?" Kenny says the words, innocently enough. Kenny is, of course, aware of the fact that most people see sunrises as nice, maybe even relaxing. Kenny doesn't see what the big deal is. The sun rises every day, you might as well get just as excited about school or something crazy like that.

"W-well," Butters stutters out, looking up at the sky, which is, currently, a murky afterthought of rainbow, the stars just barely showing as the sun rises in the distance, "I guess just because it's a new day, ya know? New days are always gonna be better, or at least ya can hope they will be. I guess that would be why. I like the stars more, though, they're even prettier, 'cause there's a lot of 'em up there and they're all shining real bright. It's pretty."

"Yeah, I guess," Kenny says with a shrug, his eyes on the blond sitting next to him, rather than on the sky he's supposed to be watching. "The thing about stars is, yeah, they're pretty, but as soon as the sun rises you can't even see them. Sometimes I sort of forget they're even there." Butters turns to look at him in surprise, but Kenny continues, not looking away. "And, you know, sometimes I feel the same way, like I'm this distant star out in the sky and all it's gonna take is something a little bit brighter and a little bit closer and everyone will just forget about me."

"Oh no," Butters says, shaking his head. "How could anyone ever forget about you, Kenny?"

It's funny that neither one of them is watching as the sun just barely starts to show over the horizon, as the stars in the sky fully dissapear from view. Kenny flushes, because no one has ever quite said something like that to him before. Kenny is not the sort of person to become embarrassed easily, but this week is not going to be easy for him. This is just the first time among many where he will not be sure what to say.

"Jesus, Butters," is all he can say for a moment. Then, "I really love you sometimes, you know that?"

"Well, gosh, Kenny, I like you a whole lot, too."

There is a point in everyone's life where their heart actually breaks. It cannot happen more than a few times and I don't think it will never hurt as much as it does the first time it happens. Because the first time your heart breaks is the first time it's ever felt real pain. Not tangible pain, you will not feel it as it happens. You will not be able to tell the doctor where it hurts exactly and he won't have any pills to solve your problem this time. You might not even realize that your heart is broken until a week, month or even years later.

When you do realize it though, it's a shock to the system. You retreat into this shell, unique to every person who has ever lived; no one does it quite the same. Some people can do it without anyone even knowing, Kenny will not be so lucky at this point. There is another thing about your heart breaking. There are only ever going to be a few select people with that power over you and you have to give them that power.

There's no exchange, you don't say, alright, here's my heart, take good care of it. You do in a sense, but you can never really trust that they've gotten the message and that's how they get the power. Once you surrender your heart to them and try to let them know that – it's all a matter of if they understand that. If they know they have that power and if they're good person, they'll take care of things to make sure your heart doesn't break.

But sometimes it doesn't matter if they're a good person, because somewhere the lines got crossed. They don't understand what they heard, they don't understand what it means to you, it doesn't mean the same thing to them – something. And even though they mean well, they drop it. They won't be careful because they just don't know, and suddenly it's a slow motion moment, you look back and see the events that all led up to this point, until you see your heart. It's not made of glass or crystal, you can't see through it, but there it is, falling, and you're helpless to stop it. So what do you do?

Well, it is an experience unique to everyone.

For Kenny, he simply smiles and nods. For this moment he will hide what he feels. Somewhere in his mind there is a scramble for things to make sense. Does it matter any more if everyone knows? It most certainly does, because even a broken heart can still love someone. Kenny does not know why Butters' words affected him so. He only knows that they did. He only knows that he was wrong, earlier, that when Butters finds out how he feels he'll be accepting and he will not reject Kenny, not fully, things just won't change a bit.

But there is a tiny bit of Kenny, hidden among the fragments of his heart, a tiny bit that wants to be exposed. A tiny bit that does not care what anyone else thinks. That tiny bit of Kenny wants his secret to be told to the world, if only Butters Stotch will tell him that 'like' is too mild a word to describe how he feels. That 'love' would be so much better. That is all Kenny wants to hear.

A/N: My stories always seem to involve someone in their boxers, I swear. God, I love boxers. :s
Alright so if that wasn't blatent enough Kenny/Butters I don't know what to tell you. Um, someone asked me to write a companion to Addict a while ago showing what Kenny went through. I didn't really want to do it. It would be sort of like the Lord of the Rings making a whole movie about Bilbo just to make more money...oh right they're doing that. But anyway, the whole sunrise thing was the beginning of that. I started writing it and...decided to put it in this instead. Just thought I'd let you guys know.
(By the way, I love LotR and I'm well aware the the Hobbit came out before the original LotR books, I read them all, I just think it's obvious that they wouldn't be making a movie out of the Hobbit had the LotR films not been so successful...yeah.)
Until next time, tweekers