This story is a South Park story, so expect swearing and sex. This is my first attempt at a story like this, so if it sucks go ahead and flame me, especially all of you stiffs that get insulted at people having sex at a young age. (not age ten, that would be sick!)

Not to try and give away the story, but some major characters will die. Everyone has some major problems, too.

So if you hate it, go ahead and hate it. This story was just an experiment in plot line, and South Park happened to be the show I picked for it. The other experimental story I wrote was a flop, but this one seems ok. Not great, mind you. So, here I go:

EDIT 8/31/05 7:26 P.M. fixed spacing issues chapters 1-3


He opened his eyes to a pitiful existence. Every day, day in, day out, he had to live that way. Sighing, awakening for the first time that morning to his reality, he stumbled out of bed and to the bathroom. The mirror threw back at him an image of a fourteen year old whose dirty blond hair was always tangled, though no one could see it under his orange hoody.

His first day of high school, he was sure, would be hell. No doubt was in his mind as to how he'd die on that day- and upperclassman would accidentally maim him fatally, somehow.

He never remembered anything about how he died. He always woke up in his bed the next day, with eight hours sliced out of his memory, and no one ever said anything.

As he washed his face with the slow trickle of freezing water from the dingy sink, he kept his thoughts positive. In the cracked mirror he looked for any sign of facial hair, just as an excuse to shave. Upon finding few, he wondered back to his room and automatically threw on his orange hoody. Then, before he'd even wrestled it halfway down his skinny figure, a thought occurred to him.

Why did he always wear it? His mom stopped forcing him to put it on when he was twelve, but he still wore it faithfully. So, for the first time since he could remember, he didn't wear it. Instead, he pawed through his pile of clothes in the corner underneath the poster of the half-naked woman. He threw on a white tee-shirt that looked decent and a pair of jeans with holes and oil stains through them.

After examining himself in the bathroom mirror, subsequently combing through his blonde mop, and having two frozen waffles for breakfast, he actually felt happy, or at least content.

When he walked to the bus stop, the reassuring breeze blowing on his arms and through his hair only made him feel even better.

"Hey, guys," he greeted Kyle, Stan, and Cartman.

"Whoa, Kenny, that's the first time I've seen your hair in three years!" Stan laughed, feeling his own hat on his head. Beside him, Kyle touched his own hat.

"Yeah, well, that fucking thing got annoying. Aren't you guys anxious?" Kenny grinned at Kyle, who was terribly possessive of his hat. Stan took his off.

"Not really," Stan answered. "It's still summer so I guess we don't need our hats."

Cartman laughed at all of them. "I don't know why you guys all kept your hats on so long! As soon as I turned twelve I tore that shitty thing off so fast… Kyle, you Jew, Take yours off!"

"Why? Why are we all taking our hats off just because Kenny ditched that lame parka?" Kyle wondered.

"Hey!" Kenny yelled, insulted.

"Well why not? I hated that fucking thing so much that I set it on fire after my mom let me keep it off!"

"Why?" Kyle and Stan asked at the same time.

"Because I Goddamn wanted to! I had some gas and matches and an ugly hat so why not?"

"Dude! These hats are the symbol of our childhood! Remember all the good times we had in these hats?" Kyle grabbed Stan's hat. "Throw away these, and we throw away all of those memories…"

"Naw, dude, your hair's just ugly, because it's red! Red hair is so fucking ugly… especially when it's curly!" Cartman laughed at his teasing of Kyle.

"So you're saying that Stan, Kenny and yourself have pretty hair, you homo?"

"No! I'm saying that your hair is so fucking ugly that you have to hide it!"

Kenny was thankful when the bus came.


The bus ride was a total hell. The driver, an old skinny man, paid little or no attention to the road that led out of town. None of the boys knew or cared where they were going, just to a high school a few towns over.

Finally, after an eternity of Cartman's crude and racist jokes directed towards all of them, the bus pulled into a huge parking lot packed with cars and other busses.

Kenny stared up at the school through a dirty window. It sprawled across what seemed like miles of a well-kept field. He found it odd that such a wonder of a school was hidden down from a dirt road, in the middle of a forest.

After everyone got off the busses, the drivers sped off, as though they were happy to get out of there. Stan, wide-eyed, led the pack of freshmen towards the four clear glass front doors of the massive school. He was the first to push open one of the doors, the first to leave a fingerprint on the freshly washed glass of the door. All held their breath, watching him walk slowly inside. Even when he stopped in the middle of the red tiled lobby and stared at them through the glass, they didn't budge.

After about thirty seconds of Stan getting gradually more pissed off as no one stepped forward to join him, Kenny shoved through the crowd to the doors. He knew he might get trampled, and, of course, he probably would, but somehow he managed to get inside to join Stan.

"Dude, it's hot in here," Kenny told Stan, watching the other freshman still staring at them through the windows of the doors.

"Yeah, why don't you state the obvious?" Stan snorted. "Goddamnit, why hasn't some teacher come to greet us or something?" Stan threw his bag in a corner where it nestled in nicely against a double door leading to what looked like an auditorium. Exasperated, he ripped off his jacket, which soon joined his bag.

A slow stream of kids finally started filing in. Kyle, Cartman, and Butters all formed a circle with Kenny and Stan, only to listen to the continuation of Kyle and Cartman cussing each other out.

"…fucking fatass!"

"…Goddamn Jew!"

"…P-please guys, stop f-fighting…"

"What's going on here?" a nasal voice asked from behind Kenny.

The boys all turned to see and old lady whose wide ass could actually rival Cartman's.

"Nothing, ma'am, we were-" Kyle started, only to be interrupted.

"You were fighting, and swearing while you were doing it. Now, if you don't want an in-school suspension, I suggest you cut it out." She straightened her huge 1985 glasses and curtly stomped towards to others quarreling.

Another teacher sauntered slowly over to the group of boys. "Hello and welcome to NPHS, North Park High School. If you could please go through those doors-" she pointed one manicured finger at the doors Stan's backpack leaned against. "- and take a seat, I'd be very pleased." She grinned at them, starting towards the doors herself.

"Goddamn! That is one fine piece of ass!" Cartman said of the teacher.

"B-but she has no ass, Eric," Butters informed Cartman, watching the skinny teacher's nonexistent ass. Some of her long blonde hair swung past her hips in a braid, which in turn hypnotized all males in the lobby. Wendy saw Stan gaping at a strange ass and walked over, slapping him.

"Asshole. Why don't you stare at me like that? Is my ass too fat? Is my face too ugly? I can fix myself up for you, Baby! Please!" Wendy sobbed, holding onto Stan's arm and burying her face in his blue button up shirt.

Stan rolled his eyes at Kyle, grinning. "Wendy, you're great, and I'm sorry. Let's leave it at that. We have to go in here now, anyway."

The group wandered into the auditorium and sat as far back as possible in the last row of hard chairs. The fat teacher was already bitching about how TV sold sexuality.

Next to Kenny, Butters glanced nervously around. "S-so, uh, Kenny, what d-do you think so far of this, uh, 'High School' b-business?"

"It sucks," Kenny answered without a thought.

"Yeah. Say Kenny, w-what about middle school? How did you like that?"

"It sucked. Why are you asking me this?"

"W-well, I wanted to make conversation with you, s-since we don't talk to each other a l-lot."

"Oh, would that be on account of I was 'dead' when Kyle, Stan, and that fatass started noticing you?"

"Uh, you th-think a lot."

Kenny laughed. "You start to when you get killed almost every day."

Butters looked oddly at the fellow blonde. "But K-Kenny, if you died all the time, why aren't you, you know, um…"

"Dead?"

"Y-yeah. Why?"

Kenny pondered for a bit. "I don't know. My parents told me once, but I forgot most of what they said. They said something about this kid who lives a few towns over, in Retroville, who can bring anything back to life. He's a genius or something.

"Oh, you mean J-Jimmy Neutron?"

Kenny shrugged. "I guess."

"Now I will be passing out your schedules. Remember- today classes are only twenty-five minutes long and there are no upperclassmen to bother you! Have fun!" The pretty teacher told the group of freshmen.

Everyone got up and made way for the doors, a bit apprehensive.


I hope you liked it. I'll put the next chappy up ASAP. I'm a slow typist so it might take a while. This story takes up close to 200 pages on paper, and it's not quite finished. I still have to divide the parts into chapters, too.

Like I said, I'll be more than happy with flames. Some of the stupid shit people say in them can be funny.