Gregory definitely took good care of his body. With and without clothes, he looked like an Adonis. That seemed too good to be true. But it was.
They broke the kiss to look at each other, almost as if Gregory was asking for permission. How silly: they were already nakes, Gregory with his condom on. Wendy just opened her legs, letting him in. Gregory kissed her lips again, descending to the neck, and there he stayed, kissing, biting softly, humming, licking. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth, letting out a delighted sigh, wrapping her arms around his torso.
"Good job, Mysterion. I didn't expect less from you."
"Do you really think I don't know what I'm doing?"
"You're gonna love what I'm preparing."
Wendy's smile vanished. She held onto Gregory, as if she wanted him to protect her, but it was useless. She could still hear that horrible voice. The fun was ruined.
Gregory let out a small whine and leaned forward to kiss Wendy's lips. He rolled to lay on his back beside her, all covered in sweat. He then turned on his side to look at her and he found a disturbed face.
"Are you alright, Wendy?"
Why did she have to hear those things? She just wanted to have a good time with her boyfriend. Oh, goodness, Butters, what have you become?
"Wendy?"
"...It's alright, don't worry."
"Are you sure? You look pale." Gregory caressed her cheeks.
"It's nothing, really." Oh, Gregory. If only she could have told him. The burden of her secret was too heavy at certain times. If he knew, he could have surely given her good advice and comfort. How she wished she could tell him everything, from the very beginning.
She embraced him and Gregory welcomed her in his arms, playing with her hair. Wendy wanted to forget about the powers, the trouble Butters was causing, everything, and just enjoy Gregory's sweet loving.
"I'm not really sure about this, Kyle."
"Come on, dude, he's your uncle."
"He tried to kill us."
"I know but, please, trust me. There's something fishy in here."
"Okay...But, Cartman..."
"Yeah?"
"Do you have to wear that thing?"
"We're on a mission, aren't we?"
Kenny's older brother, Kevin, had shown up at his house early in the morning, when the family was having breakfast together. All prisoners had been released, so he would have been a moron if he hadn't taken that oportunity—although the release had taken place a few days before and he didn't show up until then, and just for a while, to grab a bit of money before leaving who knew where. So, if Kevin was free, Jimbo and Ned had to be out too, right?
They looked for them at their respective houses, in all bars in South Park and the locals they used to be seen frequently. Nobody had seen them...and they were telling the truth, because the presence of the Coon served as a way of intimidating the possible witnesses. They succeeded around lunch time, when they searched in Jimbo's Guns.
They were watching television in the little space they used to use mainly for storage but, as time passed, they used it more and more for relaxing, eating pre-cooked microwave bacon. When Kyle cleared his throad to attract their attention, Jimbo stood up as if someone had pinched his butt.
"What are you doing here? Did you come to spout more lies about us?"
"No, uncle Jimbo. We only came here to talk to you." Stan replied.
"Well, what makes you think I want to talk to you?"
"Look, I'm sorry, okay? I'm really sorry. But you did shoot at us."
"There we go again..." Jimbo left his place on a box angrily and placed his hands on his hips. "How many times do we have to say we didn't shoot at you? Stanley! You are my nephew! Do you think I'd hurt you, or let anybody hurt you?"
"Perhaps you did it but you don't remember?" Kyle asked.
"Oh, come on, how would I-"
"Uhmmm..." Ned intervened. "I don't remember much about that afternoon."
"...Well, truth be told, I have to admit that I have a few memory lapses too..."
"What's the last thing you remember?" Kyle asked.
"The cinema...Yes. Yes, Ned and I were talking about kiwis—not the fruit, but the bird. Those bizarre creatures, how good it would be to have one stuffed. Yes, that's right. And then...then...I'm not sure..."
"A guy."
"What?" Jimbo turned to Ned.
"There was a guy. He made you stop the car."
"...He did?"
"A guy with big eyes?" Kyle got closer, visibly hungry for information.
"Hmmm."
"I don't know...I don't remember anything. Perhaps it wasn't even a guy. But...if you say so, Ned, maybe I stopped the car for some reason, yeah..."
"And then you shot at us..." Stan turned to Kenny. The blond seemed to be lost in thought, and, whatever he was meditating, he didn't share it.
"Hypnosis?" Cartman frowned.
"Maybe?" Kyle asked.
"But who would...I mean, who could hypnotize people to make them attack us?" Stan asked.
"Butters." Cartman replied emphatically.
"Well...Who else could it be?" Stan asked.
"Okay, I'm lost." Jimbo admitted.
"Uh, nothing. Thanks for your contribution, gentlemen." Cartman replied.
"Thanks to you, Coon, for helping my nephew and his friends. I hope you find that bastard and break his fingers for me. If you ever need a gun, they're on me! Finally someone has the balls to do what it has to be done!"
Jimbo insisted on inviting them to a few beers as a symbol of peace and they supposed they couldn't refuse. After all, both parties regretted what they had done and said. Now, fortunately, they were in good terms again and Stan and Jimbo were nephew and uncle once again. They spent the rest of the day just chatting, drinking. Now that there were no hard feelings, Jimbo could tell them that they were old enough to hunt with them one of those days, and gave them a few unwanted advices about manliness and how to deal with the adversities they would find in the future. He also increased The Coon's ego by praising him for beating criminals in the streets.
But those beers were a bit sour to them. Kenny hadn't slept that night, watching Dougie O'Connell at the hospital, until he knew he was out of danger, and later he wasn't able to close his eyes without imagining Butters, majestic, cruel, standing on the ruins of South Park. Kyle still had in his mind that absent look of Jimbo and Ned when they shot at them without hesitation, and Towelie's abnormal fury. Stan, on the other hand, wondered if that summer could get any worse.
BZZZZZZ
...
BZZZZZ
"I'm coming, I'm coming!"
Doctor Mephesto hurried to answer the door in his pajamas, having been woken up right when he was entering the REM phase. Whatever was the reason, he hoped it was important.
He opened the door and looked at the unexpected visitor with a frown. However, he remained cordial.
"Good night, uhm...I'm very sorry, but, as you see, the opening hours are from five to ten, and it's...it's..."
...
"The...portal...Yes, I have access to it. I replicated it here, in order to have a better understanding of the bounds of space, time and matter..."
...
"Follow me."
Mephesto stepped aside to let the visitor in and closed the door once he was inside. He marched towards the second basement, taking the elevator. He didn't look at the other during the trip. He didn't open his mouth or even blink.
Once there, he let the visitor step ahead while he stood watching the door.
"Of course, I have to open it myself. What is behind that door is protected by a very complicated password that only I know. Thank you for pointing it out."
Mephesto introduced the code in the keyboard on the wall: 12345. The door opened automatically.
Inside, two curved columns of steel in the middle of the vast room, thick wires on the floor. And a dead silence.
The visitor looked at Doctor Mephesto and he understood. He approached the big, wide console with endless buttons of different colors on one side of the room. He pressed the biggest one. There was a zooming sound, and then, a glow within the two pillars which gained consistency, like it was semi-ethereal jelly with a greyish supernatural glow.
The portal was open. South Park and Imaginationland had just been connected.
That meant Doctor Mephesto was not necessary anymore.
The Doctor looked at the visitor with blank expression, until he gasped and fell flat to the floor, and there he stayed, immobile.
"Be very careful when we are out, alright, dear? Close all the windows and if you see someone around, don't hesitate to call us and we will be right back."
"Sure, dad, don't worry."
Of course, they were worried, but Bebe couldn't be happier about the perspective of being home alone for the night. Since she couldn't afford living on her own yet, these little times savoring solitude and independence were pure glory. Being at home, she had nothing to worry about. This time she had plenty of rooms to lock herself into and a kitchen full of objects she could use to defend herself from the bastards who wandered the streets.
Her plan for the night was simple: stream movies and popcorn, lying on the sofa with just her nightgown on and a few curlers on her hair, repairing and painting her nails. Simple but nice. On her own. Quiet. Was there anything better than that?
The movie was already in its opening credits when someone rang at the door. Bebe paused the reproduction and stood up, walking funny because she was wearing her toe separators. She finally got to reach the door, but before opening she looked through the peephole. She sighed in relief: it was someone she knew. So she opened the door.
"Hey. What's up? What are you doing h-?"
Her lips remained open when her eyes closed and she fell backwards. The other got to grab her by an arm before she hit the ground and took her out.
When Bebe's parents returned past midnight, a bit tipsy after having dinner at the restaurant with lots of red wine, all their good mood was gone in the wink of an eye when they saw the front door of their house open and Bebe's stuff in the living room but not her.