In one of the poorer neighborhoods of a small town in Colorado known as South Park, a sixteen-year-old boy laid out on his bed with a joint in his hand and the sweet sounds of Bob Marley playing from his stereo. With his parents gone for the day and his little sister over at a friend's house, Kenny McCormick decided now was the perfect time to just chill out and-


To just chill out and-


To just chill out and-


Check his phone, apparently. He turned on the screen to find three texts from one Eric Cartman, "Not today fat-fuck." he stated, dropping his phone back to its rightful place on his nightstand so he could return his full attention to his smooth island jams as he prepared to light his (in his humble opinion) beautifully rolled joint.

"KENNY OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR, I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!" a particularly loud and annoying voice shouted from his front yard.

"Fuck." he stated with a sigh as he put the weed back in his nightstand, "Fuck." he repeated as he shut off his stereo, "Fuck, fuck, fuck." he chanted like a mantra as he trudged to his front door, "The fuck you want, fatass?" he greeted as he swung it open to reveal the annoyance in question.

"Hey, fuck you!" the other teenager countered.

"At least someone could fuck me, if you ever scored you'd probably go to jail for suffocating someone under your man-tits." Kenny roasted with a smirk, "Which brings me back to my previous question: The fuck you want fatass?"

"Well Kenny, since you're so dead-set on being a dick today, I guess I'll just take my money elsewhere. See ya around pothead."

"Money? Where the hell did you get money?" the boy asked, curious as to what his friend… make that acquaintance, was talking about.

"Oh, big surprise, the poor kid's all interested now that there's money involved." the heavy-set teenager teased, "Well, if you're willing to cooperate now then I'll tell you. Mom said she'd pay me sixty bucks if I cleaned out the gutters and I thought 'Hey, you know who might really benefit from that? My good friend Kenny, sure hope he's not in a bitchy mood today.'"

"Alright, I think I can figure it out from here. You want me to come clean your gutters while you sit on your ass and do nothing, then when I'm done doing all the work you're only gonna give me half the cash, right?"

Cartman scoffed, "What? Of course not! How could you even assume that?!" he asked in an offended tone, "Stan's gonna be helping out too and you both get five bucks each."

"Twenty each, we all get an even cut and you don't even have to do anything for it."

"Fuck you! I'll go as high as ten but that's it! That's probably more than your whole fucking house is worth anyway."

Kenny leaned against the door frame, feeling the wall shift slightly under his weight 'When he's right he's right, this place is a shithole.' the boy thought to himself. Yeah, his family was poor as fuck, he wasn't gonna argue with that, but if there's one thing he learned from a life of poverty it's how to bargain, and he just happened to have a tiny little ace up his sleeve for a time like this.

"Twenty bucks each and I won't tell Kyle that thing you told me when you got wasted at that party last month."

Cartman's eyes widened in fear, "You wouldn't dare."

Kenny held his nose to give his voice a more nasally tone "I fucking hate that jew so much but I could die in his ass." he mimicked in his best impression of the other boy, "Gotta say, I never took you for someone who was into redheads."

The anti-semitic bag of lard nearly screamed in rage, "FINE, YOU WIN! TWENTY BUCKS EACH!"

"Karl Marx would be so proud of you." Kenny joked as he grabbed his orange parka off the hanger next to the door.



Kenny stood on top of a ladder, elbow deep in dead leaves, squirrel shit, and bird carcasses while Stan had the cushier job of holding the ladder from below, "Ya know, had I known I'd be doing most of the work, I probably would've negotiated this differently." Kenny mused, his voice muffled by his coat.

"I told you, we can switch in a min-" Kenny heard a faint buzz from below, "Hang on, I'm getting a text from Wendy." he announced.

"Congratulations dude, I'm so fucking proud of you." Kenny sarcastically spoke.

Stan took his attention away from the ladder and focused it on his phone, "Oh shit." he said to himself before typing out a quick message to his girlfriend, saying it out loud to himself as he did "Sorry, I forgot. It won't happen again."

"Uh… Stan, I think there's something up here." Kenny announced from the roof as the sound of claws scratching on shingles became more noticeable.

The other boy, however, was too preoccupied with typing out another message to notice, "I mean it this time, I just got caught up with helping Cartman."


The boy's screams once again went unnoticed, "Of course I would rather spend time with you. Heart emoji." Stan spoke aloud, "That should take care of it. Hey Kenny, we can switch now."

This time it was Stan who went unheard as the ladder fell backward, Kenny screaming in pain as he and the ladder fell into the street, landing the boy's head right in the path of an oncoming truck. He was run over and killed on impact as the racoon ran to safety.



Kenny woke up in bed with a jolt the next morning, realizing that he was once again maimed, injured, and yes, killed. "Motherfucking ass-clown." he mumbled to himself as he got out of bed to start the day.


Kenny fancied himself a bit of a deep thinker, from time to time he liked to ponder the deep philosophical questions about the universe, questions like, "What is the meaning of life." or "Why doesn't Jack Nicholson make any new movies?" but at the moment he was preoccupied with the deepest question of them all, that question being "Why the hell did he agree to be lowered into the sewer to retrieve Kyle's phone?"

Well, he already knew the answer to that one, because he's an idiot who'd do anything to help his friends. "I seriously appreciate this, dude. I definitely owe you one." Kyle promised as he held tightly onto his friend's left ankle.

"Just one?" the boy asked, "I'm getting dunked into the shit-pit here, I think you owe me at least three."

Kyle laughed, "Alright, deal."

"You see it yet dude?" Stan asked, gripping Kenny's right ankle.

"Not yet, I'll let ya know when I do though." Kenny answered, "Get me a little lower, I think I see something." he requested.

It was at this point that Stan's phone began to ring, "Shit, hold on."

"Just call them back later." Kyle instructed.

Stan pulled out his phone to see who the interrupter was, "It's Wendy, I've gotta take this." he informed, handing Kenny's leg over to his friend.

"Dude, seriously?!" Kyle exclaimed, taking Kenny's leg. "We're kinda- Ugh, in the middle of something here!" he strained under the added weight.

"I'll just be a minute." Stan promised, answering his phone, "Hey Wendy I-" he pulled the device away from his ear as she started yelling, "Oh shit, that was today?"

Meanwhile, Kyle was struggling to hold up his friend's weight, "Shit dude, what've you been eating?!"

"The biggest meal I've had in the past three days was half an onion, you need to lift some weights or something dude, you're seriously weak." Kenny answered.

"I can't-…" Kyle struggled to keep his grip, only to lose it a moment later, dropping Kenny into the sewer. His neck snapped on impact, leaving him to die in a river of piss and "SHIT! KENNY'S DEAD!" Kyle shouted.

"Hang on on Wendy." Stan said, turning back to his friend, "You bastards!" he shouted before returning to his call, "No, it's nothing… I don't know who, I just know they're bastards."


Kenny awoke in his bed the next morning with a sigh, "It's gonna be one of those weeks, I can already tell." he mumbled to himself as he got out of bed to start the day.


Stan stood in front of his new bag-of-shit car while someone else inspected it from underneath, "So, how's it look?" the boy asked.

Kenny rolled out from under the car, his face stained with dirt and grease in one of the rare occasions where his coat was off and his face was completely visible "Like shit. Where the hell did you get this thing?"

"Uncle Jimbo got it from some guy out of town for real cheap." the other teenager answered.

"Does Uncle Jimbo got some kinda deathwish for you or something?" Kenny asked, "This thing's got no brakes, the gas-lines are full of holes, I'm pretty sure the engine's being held in with zip-ties, and it looks like it got rammed into a tree at full speed!"

"But… You can fix it, right?"

Kenny sighed, "I'll see if I can find any more problems and give you a rough estimate for new parts but other than that there's not much I can do at the moment."

"Thanks dude, I seriously owe-"

"STAN MARSH!" a loud feminine voice shouted.

"Oh shit." Stan lamented.

"I can help with your car but you're on your own with that." Kenny teased as he rolled back beneath the vehicle.

"Uh, hey Wen-"


'Oh yeah, she's pissed.' Kenny thought to himself.

"I sat in the mall's food court for hours, do you know why?!" the girl asked.

"W- Waiting for m-"


"He ain't even doing that." Kenny said to himself, unintentionally gaining the attention of the furious girl.

"Kenny?" she asked.

"Hey Wendy! Are those new shoes? They're nice!" he cheerfully greeted from under the vehicle, not really paying the situation's tone any mind.

"Aw, thank you so much!" the girl said with a smile before her anger returned and she switched her focus back to her boyfriend, "So you're just watching your friend fix your car and not even doing anything?!"

"Pretty much." Kenny answered on his friend's behalf.

"Stay out of this Kenny!" Stan demanded.

"You leave him alone, he's not the one in trouble here!" Wendy reminded.

"Look, I'm sorry I forgot our date, I just got caught up with some stuff, I got this car from my uncle and-"

"I don't want to hear anymore excuses Stan! You've stood me up three times this week and this is the last time! I'M DONE WITH YOU!"

"WHAT?! No please, give me another chance, I-"

"HELL NO! Read my lips: We. Are. THROUGH!" the girl shouted, smacking the hood of the car to accentuate the statement, the impact of which knocked the engine loose, dropping it directly on Kenny's head and smashing his skull open like a watermelon, his blood splattering the surrounding pavement and Wendy's new shoes. "Oh my god! I THINK I JUST KILLED KENNY!"

"You bast-" Stan began to say, only to be stopped by a furious look from his now ex-girlfriend, "Sorry."


Kenny woke up the next morning with a jolt, for the third time this week he'd been brutally killed in some way shape or form and for the third time he'd been resurrected just as if it never happened just like he always is. The boy held his face in his hands to nurse the splitting headache his latest death had left him with.

The boy dragged himself out of bed and trudged to the bathroom, he opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out a bottle of aspirin, popping two in his mouth and downing them with a handful of water.

The teenager stared at himself in the mirror, he'd just woken up but he was already exhausted, this whole week so far had taken one hell of a toll on him, "To think, it's only Thursday." he mumbled to himself before his face lit up in realization, "OH FUCK YEAH, IT'S THURSDAY!" he shouted.

"SHUT THE HELL UP, YA LITTLE BASTARD!" he heard his father shout from the other room.

"Sorry dad."

"Don't be sorry, just be quiet!"

Kenny rushed through his morning routine and grabbed his coat off the hanger as he left for school.


Once the final bell had rung to mark the end of another day at the American Public Institutionalized Learning Facility known as South Park High, Kenny made his way through the halls like a tank, nothing was gonna slow him down or keep him from his destination, not even his group of friends that he was passing right now, "Hey Kenny, you wanna come-" Kyle started only to be immediately shut down.

"Not today guys. Later!" the boy answered as he kept walking.

Once he was out of earshot, Stan, Kyle, and Cartman exchanged glances, "What a douche." Cartman remarked.

There were a number of things in this world that brought Kenny true joy… Okay, three things, the thrill of a revving car engine, the bliss of a good high, and the beauty of some sweet tits and ass, the third thing on that short list being what he was rushing to appreciate right now in the form of what he'd found to be his new favorite sport, Girls High School Volleyball.

No it's not lame! What's so lame about watching a group of beautiful girls engaged in physical activity? One that involved a decent amount of bouncing nonetheless! See, Kenny considered himself to be a lover of art, and what work of art exists that's more beautiful than the female form? Of course that was just his way of dancing around what he really is…

A massive pervert.

And so said pervert continued onward with his quest, his goal in sight as he approached the gym doors. Kenny entered the gym with all the confidence of an immortal stepping through the gates of Hell, dropping a few "Hey"s and "What's up"s to some of the girls he passed on the way to his usual spot on the bleachers.

Back when the boy first came up with his brilliant idea to drop in on the girls' practice, he'd gotten a few confused looks, the second time he got a few questions, and after explaining that he found the game to be thrilling (Making sure to leave out the big reason as to why, of course.) they accepted his explanation and went on with their lives. By his third visit, Kenny was practically an honorary member of the team, unofficially dubbed their "Personal Cheerleader", he laughed when they first informed him of his title, mainly due to the image that popped into his head of him dressed in a sports bra and miniskirt with a pair of pom poms.

It was in that moment Kenny knew what he was wearing to the season's first big game. The look on the girls' faces would be priceless! But his stupid cross-dressing pranks could wait for later. For now, practice was starting which meant it was time to get comfortable and discreetly creep on the girls in his class.

The boy watched as the two groups knocked the ball back and forth, not unlike his mind bouncing back and forth between teenage perversion and genuine interest, interest which he wasn't expecting to gain when he started this endeavor but was pleasantly surprised to find when he first caught himself getting invested. He figured he must have liked the game to some extent considering he kept coming back to watch every week instead of just going home and watching the vintage porno tapes he found in the crawlspace under his house.

'those are some great tapes though.' he thought to himself, '70s tits rule!'.

And with that last perverted thought out of the way Kenny's mind bounced back into the game, specifically one of the girls playing it; His latest killer and close friend's now ex-girlfriend, Wendy Testaburger. The boy felt a shot of pain in his head as he recalled his last death. Sure, she hadn't meant to do it, but her lack of bad intentions didn't exactly stop his fucking head from being crushed under a shitty car engine! 'Get your mind off it, it's not her fault, she was just mad at Stan.' he thought to himself, trying to think of something beside the crushing pain in his head, "Ow, shit." he cursed under his breath as he rubbed his eyes.

Kenny took a deep breath and turned his attention back to the game, he could tell Wendy was still pissed by the way she was playing, aggressively spiking the ball every time it came into her general vicinity, sometimes hard enough to make the other girls jump out of the way to avoid getting hit. Yep, she was pissed, and she was taking out her frustrations on that poor rubber ball.

'Damn Stan, you really fucked up this time.' the boy thought, he completely understood how too, Kenny knew where his friend's priorities were. Hell, he had a front row seat for it! Since discovering his new favorite sport Kenny generally spends six out of seven days a week with his friends, in that time Stan usually hangs out right alongside him, his girlfriend nowhere to be seen. Occasionally, he'd break off and hang out with Wendy but that rare occurrence usually only happened every other week at the very most. One could even say, with his now five weeks of unbroken attendance at the girl's volleyball practice, Kenny spent more time with Wendy than her own boyfriend ever did.

'Ex boyfriend now.' he pondered to himself, what a surreal thought, they'd been "dating" for what seemed like forever now. Kenny thought back to when they were all kids, even before the two had started dating she was the one girl he never chased, all because Stan liked her, so he backed off, way off. Hell, he couldn't even remember saying two words to her for the longest time in fear of accidentally seducing her and betraying his friend…


The more the boy thought about his friend's ex-girlfriend, the more prominent that little "ex" became, 'She's hot as hell, smart as fuck, she is single now…' Kenny tried to push the thought out of his head. There's three unspoken rules among guys, you do not date the girl your friend likes, you do not date your friend's ex, and you definitely do not under any circumstances date your friend's girlfriend!

But the thought remained. Why shouldn't he be allowed to date his friend's ex? It's not Kenny's fault Stan fucked up his relationship. If Kenny were dating Wendy then he'd spend at least half his time with her. Hell, he'd even try to get her in on some of the trouble he and the guys get into just so he could spend more time with her. The boy couldn't fathom how someone could enter a relationship just to blow it off and fuck around with their idiot friends 24/7, especially when one of those friends was Eric fucking Cartman of all people.

Maybe he was thinking too deep about this. Moral quandaries of the heart could wait, he was here to watch some volleyball, so he was gonna watch some fucking volleyball, and he did, he watched it fly right into the bleachers and hit him directly in his face, knocking him right off his seat and onto a bin of throwing javelins that some idiot decided they were too busy to bring to the equipment closet, impaling him through the chest, "God fuckin' dammit." he cursed, the sound muffled by his parka.

"OH SHIT, KENNY!" he heard a familiar voice scream, he recognized it as the voice of the girl who'd been taking up residence in his mind for a good five paragraphs now. "Oh god, oh god! We need to get you to the hospital! SOMEBODY CALL AN AMBULANCE!" Wendy panicked.

Kenny said something that was muffled out by his parka.

"What?" the girl asked, taking down his hood so she could hear him better.

"I said nice shot, but maybe next time you could aim for the ground." he repeated, his voice strained.

"Oh god, Kenny. I can't believe I did this to you!"

"I just can't believe you got me twice in a row." the boy said absentmindedly, his brain fading fast.

"What?" Wendy asked in confusion, "Oh god, you're losing so much blood!"

The dying boy looked down to see the multiple spears sticking out of his torso, "Eh, don't sweat it, come tomorrow morning you're not even gonna remember any of this." with this assurance Kenny had a thought, an epiphany even! 'She's not gonna remember any of this.' he realized, and while he certainly couldn't date his friend's ex, he could at least take advantage of the good ol' postmortem mind-wipe everyone seems to get whenever he dies, "Hey Wendy, come here." he requested.

The girl moved her face closer to his, only to be surprised a moment later when he leaned in to the best of his abilities and kissed her.

The girl was still shocked and utterly confused when he separated from her and spoke his final words, "See ya at practice next week."


Kenny woke up the next morning in a state of pure bliss, this had been one of his personal favorite deaths by far. Not so much the death itself, in fact his chest still hurt like hell from it, but mainly for the fact that he'd gotten away with getting a taste of taboo, courtesy of the mouth of one of the few girls he'd always desperately wanted but could never have. Sure, it's not much, but it's something!

Kenny felt like he was on cloud nine… right up until he caught the scent of smoke and brimstone. The boy opened his eyes to find he was currently floating down into a fiery pit, "OH COME THE FUCK ON! IS BEING A PERVERT EVERY ONCE IN A WHILE REALLY THAT BAD OF A SIN?!"


Wendy woke up the next morning with tears in her eyes, yesterday's events burned into her mind. She remembered it so vividly, Kenny's mangled body bleeding out onto the gym floor, that kiss, and his final words, 'See ya at practice next week.'

He lost so much blood, even he probably didn't know what he was talking about. She thought about the other thing the boy said. 'You're not even gonna remember any of this.'

She cried at just how wrong she knew he'd be, she knew for a fact that she'd remember every detail of the boy's death for the rest of her life.

A/N: Back when I first became a cartoonist, they told me I could make any kind of cartoon I wanted, so I told them I wanted to make South Park because it looks easy as hell to animate and those guys are probably fucking loaded by now, they said I wasn't allowed to because of copyright reasons.

WELL LOOK WHERE I AM NOW BITCHES! Right back where I started... On the fanfiction website... Procrastinating my actual work... Like an idiot... But that's fine! I'll have plenty of time to second-guess my decisions when I'm on my death-bed!

Anyway, let me know if you thought this sucked or ruled with a review, don't hold back either, I wanna hear some real honest opinions, both good and bad!