SOUTH PARK BELONGS TO TREY PARKER AND MATT STONE
2036
Jimmy pursed his lips.
"O-Okay, how about this one? Why did the chicken cross the road? Because chicks can do a-anything they want and it's not our place to judge them."
A tiny smirk on Timmy's lips, almost imperceptible.
"Timmy..."
"I know but you know how this is, you gotta a-adapt yourself to your public, and if this is what the p-public wants..."
Timmy shrugged—again too faintly to notice.
"Timmy Timmy..." He mumbled.
"Yeah, I do. I feel this is one of those shots which only come o-once in a lifetime. I don't want to screw this over."
"Timmy Timmy." Timmy smiled at him and winked.
"T-Thanks, Tim-Tim. If everything goes well, I'll take you to some fancy restaurant. You've been a pal, listening to me and giving me support when I freaked out."
Timmy shook his head like it was nothing. Jimmy smiled.
"Hey, now that nobody's li-listening...For your private pleasure..." He paused, his grin widening. "What's the difference between hungry and horny?"
"Timmy?"
"Where you stick the cucumber."
This time Timmy's giggle was completely sincere.
"What's the hardest part of a vegetable to eat?" Jimmy continued, chuckling himself. "The wh-wh-wheelchair."
And now his friend was laughing out loud.
Jimmy's smile grew wider, proud at himself that he had made his friend snap out of that permanent distraction he was immersed on lately and gotten a laugh from him.
Many times he would remember that laughter...
Having grown together, Timmy shared a strong bond with the Special Ed guys from school, the kind of bond one creates when, in a confusing world, there is someone you share struggles with and who understands you when no one else does. Some didn't have friends apart from those old friendships, were having trouble with abled coworkers or bosses who didn't have patience with them, so it was nice to have someone who asked them about their days and talked nicely to them.
One of those was Mimsy. It was true that Mimsy had contributed into making Timmy's life a little difficult back in Elementary, but the truth was that, when Nathan wasn't around, when he had that little devil on his shoulder removed, he was a nice guy to spend time with. It was amazing what puberty had done to this boy, making him big, muscled, giving him that deep voice which could startle anyone he spoke to without a warning and a good amount of thick hair all over his body.
Both of them were listening to the music Timmy had on his Spotify account. The kind of music which gave grandmas a heart attack. Who could have told Timmy, who still retained that childish candid look, was into that. But Mimsy didn't judge. In fact, what he was hearing was so fascinatingly strident for him that he could only keep on listening. He turned his head towards Timmy and saw him shaking his head following some unknown pattern—because it was hard for him to tell that there was a pattern in all those thunderous electric guitars and screams—; after a while, he decided to imitate him even if he had no idea of he was doing.
He looked again, when he saw from the corner of his eye that Timmy had removed his earphone. He was blinking very slowly, and was moving like his wheelchair was spinning.
"This is sweet, what's it called?" Mimsy asked, unaware of what that behavior could possibly mean.
Timmy didn't reply.
"What's it called?" Mimsy insisted.
Timmy tried to say something. He opened his mouth but words struggled to come out. Again he blinked like his eyelids weighted a ton pounds.
Mimsy was even slow to catch him when he slowly slipped and fell on his mouth from the wheelchair. It took him a little moment to realize of anything and finally hold him in his strong arms.
"Hey, Timmy, are you all right?" He asked him, shaking him gently. But Timmy was as light and lifeless as a rag doll.
Tweek took a sip from his coffee and read the text Jimmy had just sent him.
"Timmy's at the hospital."
Craig didn't look away from the macaroni he was cooking. Not that paying attention from them was saving the cheese from burning.
"He has been going to doctors a lot lately, for what it seems, and he collapsed in the street yesterday." Tweek continued, adding more information as he read Jimmy's explanations.
Fuck dammit, Craig muttered. Tweek turned his head around saw he was just complaining that the cheese had turned black. He rolled his eyes and went back to the conversation.
"We should drop by to see him, don't you think?"
"I don't think they'll give me a free day at work to visit a sick friend." Craig replied. In his attempt to remove the burn crust, he was making an awful mess Tweek wonder how he was going to solve.
"We don't need the whole day. Just one or two hours to say hello."
"Sure."
Tweek rolled his eyes and asked Jimmy to tell Timmy they would go see him as soon as they could and wish him a quick recovery. Then, he opened his contact list to order pizza.
"Why didn't you tell me you were sick?"
Timmy looked weird, with that light blue gown on, color drained from his whole body, that intravenous drip in his arm. He seemed aware of how scary the situation was for his friends and tried to ease them with a smile.
"Timmy. Timmy Timmy Timmy..."
"To h-h-h-hell with the audition! You're more important than that!"
"Timmy Timmy."
"What did the doctors say?" Francis asked. She was still holding the teddy bear holding a big heart she had bought him in her hands.
Timmy told her, but she didn't know anything about the medical jargon, so it was like he had told her nothing at all.
"Timmy Timmy." In conclusion, they had to perform a few more tests. That was something she could understand just fine.
"Hope it's nothing."
"Sure it'll be nothing. J-Just a couple of days here and you'll be p-p-p-ph!-peachy! Right, p-p-pal?" Jimmy gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder. He was very soft, of course.
"Timmy..." Timmy got comfortable, almost like he was preparing himself to go to sleep.
"Hey, it's Wendy on the phone. She wants to talk to you." Token told him, and handed him the device.
"Timmy!" Timmy sweetly said.
"Hi, Timmy, how are you feeling today?" Wendy's voice was heard.
"Timmy." Glad that she called. He hadn't seen her since they graduated. How nice that she still remembered him!
"Do you know something from Timmy? I heard he had a hard week..."
Kenny hesitated before replying to Scott. First, he sipped from his drink.
"Not looking good."
"But what does he have? Did they find anything?" Scott asked.
"The liquid inside of his head. To put it simple, it's putting pressure on the brain. It gets worse as you grow older."
Wow, Kenny had learnt a lot ever since he had started working as the errands boy in that lab, Scott thought.
"Is there a cure?" He asked.
"Surgery." Kenny replied. "It shouldn't be risky, but it guarantees nothing."
He paused again to give another sip.
"Just saying that his mom and dad didn't live past fifty..."
"Don't be so grim. You're making it sound like he's not making it to Christmas."
Kenny didn't reply this time—that was his response. It certainly didn't help Scott feel any better.
"Well...You'll see! Timmy's a fighter! He might get out of this just fine...However, I should go see him myself. Hey, I could apply all I have learnt at the seminary about comforting the sick." Scott said.
"So you still want to become a priest?" Kenny rose an eyebrow.
"The world is dead to me but I can still be useful to my brothers and sisters in need." Scott spoke with such determination Kenny didn't dare to say anything.
"By the way, have you heard of Butters? Haven't seen him in a while..." Kenny changed the subject.
"For what I know, he's still grounded."
"Wow, it's been ten years ever since he said to me his parents had grounded him..."
It had taken him long enough, but Tweek finally had Craig asking him to marry him. Because he wasn't doing it, oh no, he had to take the initiative some time! And so the moment had come to get into that awful mess of organizing things, choosing restaurants, decorations, menus, gifts, suits, sending letters...
"Clyde will be coming alone, I suppose...But I don't know if he will take it badly if I ask him if he's bringing someone..."
"Don't count on it." Craig said.
"Okay. Token will bring his girl, of course. Kyle, Thomas...Tim...Oh..."
Tweek frowned.
"Guess we can't expect Timmy to attend..."
"Not for the moment. We'll send him the wish list anyway." Craig said again, getting one more card into the envelope.
"When will we go see him? I'm free this weekend."
"I have double shift. Tuesday?"
"I can't."
"Mph. Look, how about we just call him? Not that he needs a lot of people around him all the time, anyway."
"Guess so..."
And that call became one more chore, quickly buried under a thousand more.
"Hey, Tim-Tim."
Timmy didn't open his eyes.
"How can you get a nice Jewish name's n-number?"
Silence.
"You s-simply ask her after you have made sure you've got her c-consent."
Timmy kept lying in silence. Right when Jimmy was beginning to sigh, he opened his eyes a little bit and drew a smile. It seemed it was a very hard thing to do for him but he still did his best. Jimmy's audition was the next week and he needed as much support as he could get.
Craig didn't remember what he dreamed about that last night and he was so frustrated about it. It was something about a...a...what was it even about? Darn it, he could only remember it was so cool!
"Morning." He groaned when he entered the kitchen and found Tweek sat at the table.
He served himself coffee. It wasn't until some seconds later that he realized that Tweek had not replied or moved. He turned around and found him in the same posture, his elbows on the table and his hands crossed, his chin resting on them. His phone was on the table, right in front of him. Tweek turned his eyes at him.
"...Timmy died last night..." He just said, in very low voice.
Incredible how only four words can ruin one's morning.
For once, Craig didn't say anything at all. He just couldn't. He even threw his coffee down the sink because he didn't have the stomach to drink it.
2061
Stan felt really uncomfortable among all these people he barely knew. They had shared a ton during their childhood, but those children were long gone and had been replaced with adults he didn't know anything about. He had to grow accustomed to many things. Scott Malkinson was a priest, Cartman was a...rabbi! Yeah, it was like sharing a room with strangers he had just met. He was hoping no one made him questions about his life, and thank goodness Kenny's surprising death was distracting enough, but still someone came to him with that, and he was forced to be evasive.
"L-Long time no seeing, p-p-pal! How's it going? Are you married? Do you got any kids?" Jimmy wrapped an arm around him.
"I've seen you on television." Stan was quick to say.
"Heh, yeah. N-Not bad for a boy from a l-little mountain town, huh?"
"Sorry, Jimmy, but, in case you haven't noticed, you aren't a boy anymore." Clyde teased him.
"We all are old and look like shit. Well, all except Token. I don't know to what ancient entity that motherfucker sold his soul, but he's aged like wine, the son of a bitch." Craig looked at Token, who was giving Kenny's sibling his condolences, from the corner of his eye.
"Wendy's looking good too, huh?" Clyde flashed his eyebrows at Stan, and he had to make an effort not to frown.
"You deserve it. I'm so glad." Stan said, and his lack of emotion showed his real feelings about it.
"T-Thanks, Stan. I owe much to my man Tim-Tim. He's been h-helping a lot from above." Jimmy turned his eyes at the sky with a tiny smile.
"Timmy? Oh, right, the kid in a...What, is he the boss of the network or something?"
Such a silence fell upon the group that Stan wondered what he had said.
"You really don't know?" Clyde asked, his mocking smile completely gone. "He died."
"...Damn, really? When?"
"Twenty-five years ago, man!"
"Oh...I...had no idea..."
"Well, we tried to get in touch with you for the burial and stuff and Kyle says you didn't answer the phone." Tweek said.
Oh, yeah, at that moment he didn't want to have anything to do with Kyle...Not that he regretted it. In fact, he put the blame on the other guys, for not finding an alternative way of telling him. If he looked like a dick now, it was their fault, only theirs.
"C-Come on, I think we can enter now." Jimmy said, and they walked into the church. Stan had the feeling that they left him behind on purpose.
(NOT) THE END
Note: the disease referenced here is hydrocephalus. While it has not been explicitly stated in the canon that Timmy suffers from it, it could explain his big head.