Yay!, new story!!! Woo!! Anyway, this is a little different than what I usually do...lots more blood and angst, but whatever. Umm..sorry it's so short, don't worry, they'll get longer.

Disclaimer: Me no ownie South Park.

All Our Fault



The door opened and a man stepped into the silent room. He was large and fat, with a receding hairline and bloodshot eyes, carrying a thin folder in his meaty paws.

The room's only other occupant, an adolescent boy of about 17, turned his head to look at him. The boy was dressed in an orange parka, ragged and torn, jeans in the same state, slumped down in a chair in front of a table angrily. His messy dirty blonde hair fell over his face, but was unable to hide his narrowed eyes, cobalt blue and hard in frustration as they glared at the man.

The man dd not seem to notice, making his slow way to a chair in front of the boy, putting the table between them. He flicked open the folder, scanning its contents wearily, as if he had done this a million times. The boy drummed his fingers on the tabletop irritably, clearly impatient to get this over with. He gritted his teeth, but the man paid him no heed, still looking at the file. When it seemed like the boy could take it no more, the man sighed, laying the file down and leaning back in his chair. He stared at the boy with dulled, bored eyes.

"So..." he began. "Says here you're Kenneth McCormick?"


"Alright then, Kenny." The man glanced at the file. "You've got a pretty interesting talent there, kiddo."

Kenny's eyebrows drew together in confusion.

"You die...then come back to life in a day or two." The man elaborated. "Seems like a pretty special gift to me."

Kenny scowled. "More like a fucking curse to me."

The man leaned forward, seemingly interested. "And why's that?"

"No one gives a flying fuck when I die." Kenny growled. "It's always, 'Oh, Kenny'll just come back later!!' Doesn't stop it from hurting! They don't know what it's like!"

"Hmmm, really?" The man's eyes were already glazing over from boredom.

"Hell yeah!! So what if I die all the time?! Someone should at least care! They could give me a freakin' funeral or something!! All I have is an unmarked grave at home. They don't even bother making them separate now. They just bury me in one and wait for me to dig myself up again. Fucking bitches."

"And this makes you angry?" The man asked, leaning back again.

"No shit, Sherlock." Kenny said sarcastically. The man glanced at him, his eyes sharp as flint, suddenly changing from the disinterest they so recently possessed.

"Angry enough to get some payback? Kill some people?"

Kenny reeled back, eyes wide. "Are you fucking nuts?! No!! After all I've been through, you think I want that to happen to anybody?! I'm a fucking sex addict, not a murderer!!"

The man raised an eyebrow but let it pass.

"We've cross referenced your story with the other witnesses and trailed the scene, but...we're not finding any sign of your...friend."

"It was him! Him, I'm telling you!!" Kenny slapped the table with his palms. "I know he's out there! And no duh they didn't see him, everybody came when they were all already dead!!"

"Uh huh..."

"You've gotta believe me!" Kenny pleaded.

"Well, alright. Tell me what happened. What made your 'friend' kill everybody?" The man was surprised to see a great sadness descend on the boy, extinguishing the anger in his blue eyes. Kenny looked down, his voice tinged with guilt and bitter sadness.

"It was all our fault..."

It was all our fault he did this...all our own damn fault.

A/N: Anyway, just a little side note...this song was inspired by something by Ludo. If you can figure out what it is, review and tell me, and I will give you a present. Like, seriously, you will get to dictate some of the things I need to put in here. Keep reading please!!