Mr. Mackey, shirt still off, slammed the door to the Maserati and walked up to the school. He could practically feel the fear and anticipation of the helpless students as he opened the double door to walk into the building.

His heavy steel-toed boots echoed through the quite halls, sounding like living embodiment of doom as he marched to PC's office, examine his tattooed hand. The tattoo that he had got that morning that read "Take Your Daughter to the Slaughter" glistened in the ceiling lights. In his opinion, it was so badass. And his opinion was always right.

"Kyle," he said as he opened the door. "With me..." his face twisted in yet another evil smile as he beckoned Kyle with his index finger, looking like the evil queen from Snow White

And he felt like that, too. Another innocent child, ready to be punished.

Mr. Mackey pulled into the cemetery's small, badly paved parking lot. Smiling again, he punched Kyle's shoulder, signaling for him to get out.

It was a medium sized cemetery, with a diverse mixture of graves and tombstones.

Kyle trudged behind the councilor, not wanting to know what was going to happen, but having no choice.

"Stand still for a second, m'kay, Kyle."

The boy suddenly stopped walking, as Mr. Mackey stood as straight as a pencil, suddenly very quite.

"Mr-" before Kyle could finish the sentence, he felt a large object come flying into his stomach. He felt himself lose all control as pain gripped his body. He was quickly tumbling backwards into some kind of pit- and he had a horrible suspicion he knew what it was.

Six feet above him, he heard Mr. Mackey's evil laugh. It echoed menacingly through the hole.

"Have fun gettin' outta there, m'kay!" Mackey shrieked. "Well, at least I got you food."

He held up a McDonald's bag, pouring all the contents into Kyle's grave, a hole of moist dirt. A mixture of fries, biscuits, hashbrowns, and burgers rained down on Kyle, as he tried to pull himself out of the hole.

"Have fun in your new home, Kyle. I'll make sure the coffin comes soon, m'kay."

AaAaAaAaAa

Kyle looked around at the mess of McDonald's food. It was now covered with dirt and small rocks. Ants and flies were crowding around Kyle, who tried and failed to keep them from bothering him.

He heard the sound of an engine roaring, then tires screeching out of the cemetery parking lot. He knew there was no one there, the Maserati had been the only car. People rarely visited the cemetery. You'd think they would, to drop off flowers or something like that.

Honestly Kyle actually hoped no one was there. Because the reason no one ever came was because the place was a popular gang hangout. He wanted to get out, but if they were his only help...

He began angrily grinding his teeth. Just because Mackey was mad, didn't mean he had to be stuck here. Someone was having a bad day, for no logical reason, and of course they had to take it out on him. And put him in such a sucky situation.

Kyle looked up. The ground's surface was about a foot above his head. The hole was wide too, wide enough for a large coffin with space left over. He sighed.

It was no use.

He sat down, listening to his stomach growl. He missed most of lunch, so he hadn't had enough to eat.

Suddenly, the dirt encrusted Big Mac didn't look so bad.

AaAaAaAaAa

Mr. Mackey opened the door to the Starbucks. Having laughed himself dry, he was in the mood to be refreshed. This was too good! He was so ready to punish Stan, but he knew the penalty had to be perfect. Even worse than the others, just perfect. He had a few possible ideas, but he wanted something really special.

Stan was the worst, after all. The most normal, most laid back. Just the thought of a person like that pissed the councilor off; no one should have such a flawless life as Stan Marsh.

Taking a spot in the long line, Mr. Mackey picked up his phone.

He had to make a call.

Kyle shoved the half-eaten Big Mac aside, ready for some fries. A couple ants were at the bottom of the large container, but he didn't really care.

Just as he picked them up, a noise sounded from just outside the hole.

Kyle stood. "H-h-ello?"

A shrill shriek filled the air as something came falling into the whole. Kyle looked down to see a highly confused looking squirrel nibbling in a McDouble, eyes wide. Kyle screamed, taking a step back. The squirrel inched closer to Kyle. It was oddly stiff, and it's mouth was ajar.

Forget everything I said, Kyle did hope a gang came. Maybe they would actually help him... Or at least be better then some diseased squirrel.

It was at that moment that Kyle wondered if this random grave would really be his soon. Would he really get some weird disease from this possible killer squirrel?

Again, he sighed. Only time could tell.

AaAaAaAaAa

Well, I hope you liked that chapter. And don't you just love Mr. Mackey's genius logic? I wish MY life was as flawless as Stan's...

Anyways, please review.