A/N: A little Bunny One-shot I wrote for Butters' birthday! I hope you all enjoy! For anyone waiting for the next chapter for A Metaphor for Jealousy, fear not! I have not given up, I'm just taking a bit longer writing it than I intended. Anyways, please enjoy this Butters' birthday one-shot!
Disclaimer: I don't own South Park!
Students roamed the halls of South Park Elementary, all in search of supplies to complete their September eleventh memorial wall decorations. True, this was a day of mourning for those who lost their families, but in the minds of these fourth graders, this was a day for competition. It was in the hands of Garrison's class to make their wall decoration superior to the other fourth grade class. Sure, the only prize to be won would be their class called over the intercom, but this ensured bragging rights for the students. Not to mention the full day of wandering around the school that they were entitled.
In the halls by Mr. Garrison's room, students taped and hot glued papers and poster board to the walls. A marker drawn, New York backdrop lined the wall, and two three-dimensional twin towers were being erected on the floor, to be placed on the backdrop once completed. This magnificent idea had been designed by none other than Kyle Broflovski, in an attempt to compete with the rivaling mind of one Terrence Mephisto of the other fourth grade class, as well as the other class in general.
"We're almost done with the background," Clyde called out, marker in hand, not taking his eyes off the reference picture. Urgency rang through all their voices.
"You don't have to color where the towers go," Kyle said from his spot on the floor. He and Stan were working on the smaller of the two towers.
"Tweek," Stan called out, "get some of that brown paper stuff from the gym."
Tweek tugged at his shirt, "Gah! What if I drop it!? W-what if it gets all crumpled and tears!?"
Craig jumped down from his chair and dropped his marker. "I'll help you."
"Pardon me, chaps," Pip asked, "but could my class borrow a hot glue stick?"
"No. Go away, Pip," Cartman spat, digging into a bag of Chex Mix.
Pip nodded, "Alrighty then," and he left.
"Get over here and help, fatass," Kyle yelled.
"Fuck you, Jew," Cartman spat back.
"Dammit, where's Kenny?" Stan yelled. "He's supposed to be helping!"
One student was not in such a competitive mood. Rather, this boy was depressed. No, he was not in mourning. He didn't even know anyone from New York. Leopold "Butters" Stotch sat at his desk, hand on cheek, in the nearly abandoned classroom. Today was Butters' birthday, but not one person had wished him a happy one all morning, and listening to his classmates working away happily was only making him feel less important. Ah gee, Butters thought to himself, now don't think like that. It's good that everyone's having a good time. Why, I shouldn't act like my birthday is so important. All those people died. I should really learn to be more considerate. No amount of berating made Butters feel any better. He still wished someone would have wished him a happy birthday.
"No," Kyle's voice could be heard trough the door, "that's not sturdy enough! It's gonna collapse!" Suddenly, the sound of scattering papers and poster board smacking the ground sounded through the door. "God dammit!"
Butters let out a sigh as he pushed his seat back and stood up. It won't do no good sittin' here sulking, he thought as he made his way to the door. I ought to be helpin' or else maybe today shouldn't be my birthday anyways.
The first thing Butters saw when he walked out of the room was a collapsed tower scattered across the hall.
"Oh, good going, Jew!" Cartman shouted. "Now how the Hell are we supposed to win?"
Stan stepped in, "Oh shut up, Cartman! You didn't even help."
"Butters!" Kyle jumped in front of Butters. "Help. We've gotta get this tower fixed, now!" he commanded.
Butters mashed his knuckles together nervously. "W-why sure. I'll help." Kyle nodded while Stan, and Butters joined him on the floor and regrouped the materials, trying to tape and glue the pieces back together.
A while later, Butters watched as some of his classmates clumsily hot glued the twin towers to the New York background. See, he thought, smiling a bit despite himself, my birthday isn't so important. Everyone's happy now because we all put our attention on this. Butters mashed his knuckles together again when a frown made its way back to his face. He knew he was being selfish, but he still felt somewhat forgotten.
"(Butters! Hey Butters!)" A muffled voice called out. Butters turned to see Kenny, the boy who had gone missing since roll call that morning, happily running down the hallway with his hands behind his back. Kenny halted in front of Butters, breathing heavily.
Butters blinked a few times before smiling. "Wuh, hiya Kenny!" he said to the wind-bitten boy. "Whatcha doin'?"
"(Ha-aaaah!)" Kenny screamed, stepping forward and landing his foot in the marker basket and falling forward. He hit the floor in somewhat of an awkward push up position, protecting something under him that Butters couldn't quite make out. Kenny's arms slipped out from under him, pushing the item forward as he landed on his stomach. His chin hit one of the discarded hot glue guns, somehow managing to make it go off in his face. "(Aaaaah!)" Kenny screamed as his face was covered in burning hot glue.
Before Butters could do anything, the sound of tearing, like adhesives being pulled apart, filled the air. "Look out!" Clyde yelled as one of the two towers fell and landed on top of Kenny, crushing him and ceasing his screams.
Stan gasped, "Oh my God! They killed Kenny!"
"You bastards!" was Kyle's quick addition.
The other students calmly bent down and lifted the tower off. Thankful that it had not been damaged, they continued to hot glue it back to its rightful place.
Butters knelt in front of the dead boy and saw what he had managed to save in his hands. A medium sized, red box with "Don't Shake!" written on it, sat with a plain white envelope reading "Butters" taped to it. Carefully, Butters took the box from Kenny's lifeless hands. He opened the envelope and pulled out the letter. It read in Kenny's neatest cursive,
Happy Birthday! I know everyone is busy with 9/11 memorial stuff, but I wanted to get you something. I only wish I could have got you more. What happened in New York may have been a tragedy, but your birth sure wasn't! (And yes, I know how dorky that sounded.) Happy Birthday Butters!
P.S. Seriously, don't shake the box!
Butters smiled brighter than he had so far that day. Setting the letter in his lap, he popped open the red box and was suddenly hit with the scent of bakery fresh cake. Six chocolate cupcakes to be exact, sat in the box with a bit of icing sticking to the lid. They appeared to be homemade, for the icing was somewhat sloppy, but they looked good nonetheless. Butters blushed a bit as he lifted one of the cupcakes to his mouth, taking in the deliciousness that was Kenny's baking. Little did he know that Kenny took nearly forever to get the cupcakes to come out this good, as baking was not one of his better skills.
"Oh, dude," Stan said the next day. "What the Hell happened to your hands?"
"(Oh,)" Kenny said, surprised to see the burn marks still on his hands after what happened the day before. "(I burnt them,)" he said, grinning.
"Obviously," Kyle said before Butters walked into the classroom.
"K-Kenny," Butters said, blushing a bit and rubbing his knuckles, "uh, thank you for yesterday."
Kenny's eyes widened. "(You got it?)"
Butters beamed at him, "Yeah. They were great! Thank you!"
Kenny grinned back. "(Glad you liked them.)" Kyle, Stan, and Cartman looked at each other questioningly, but before they could ask, Principal Victoria's voice blared through the intercom. All the students clammed up, listening intently as the classes were called, starting with Kindergarten, then first, then second and third.
"And the fourth grade winner is... Mr. Garrison's class." The entire class erupted in cheers. Even Butters couldn't help but feel proud of this victory.
"Way to go, Kyle!" Stan said, patting Kyle's back.
"Yeah," Kyle said, "Take that, Terrence!"
Everyone continued their cheers, while Kenny and Butters looked at each other, smiling. Kenny held his hand up for a high five, and Butters hesitated before slapping his hand. Kenny laughed, and Butters grinned back. His birthday had turned out pretty good after all.
"H-hey, Kenny," Butters said at lunch later that day.
"(Hm,)" he said, turning around from his seat at the lunch table. "(What's up?)"
Butters held in his hand one of the cupcakes Kenny had made for him. "I have one more left. I-if you want, we could share it."
Kenny sighed and hung his head down. "(So they didn't turn out good after all.)"
"N-no!" Butters quickly said, waving his hands. "The muffins were great! I just felt like I owed you."
Kenny didn't look up. He kept his head hung in disappointment. "(Cupcakes.)"
"What?" Butters asked, cocking his head to the side.
"(They're not muffins,)" Kenny explained. "(They're cupcakes.)"
Butters gasped. He knew they were cupcakes. He just slipped up. "I-I know that! I don't know why I said muffins, but they were great!"
"H-honest!" Butters exclaimed. Proving his point, Butters took a big bite from the cupcake. "See! Great!"
Kenny smirked when he saw the frosting on the corner of Butters' mouth. He bent forward until he was just inches away from Butters' face.
"K-Kenny?" Butters stuttered. Just then, Kenny's tongue jolted forward and whipped the icing from Butters' lips. Butters' face turned deep red.
Kenny laughed. "(I guess they did turn out pretty good.)"
Butters just stared at Kenny, face burning hot. "Y-yeah."