Christ I'm not used to writing things without sex. Heh. Oh well, enjoy your little drabble, all of my AP sisters.


Oh hamburgers. Oh hamburgers. Oh HAMBURGERS!

Butters was late, and he knew it. That was the worst kind of late, since the stress stretched out for a longer period of time. Today wasn't a good day to be late, he had an AP history exam to take!

Slamming off his alarm clock (which didn't do much help when he slept right through it), Butters dressed in record speed, buttoning his shirt in the wrong hole and pulling it on backwards. Not as if he cared, though. He raced down the hall, swerving as he reached the bottom of the stares. Boy, howdy, if he was late, he could never make it up!

Glancing up at the clock, his face paled. Seven fifteen. He only had half an our to get to school. And in the mountains where everything is three miles apart, that was not nearly enough time to make it. Shucks, if only his parents hadn't grounded him from driving…

He stood there thinking about this, and jumped when he heard his toast pop up out of the toaster. Butter was slathered on without precision. He licked it the excess off his finger and made a face at the taste of it. Please don't let the butter be rotten. Butters' mood was already spoiled enough as it was.

"G-Gotta go, gotta go-" Butters mumbled to himself, picking up his bag and cell phone, shoving it into his back pocket. He wasn't worried about getting caught texting. Eric didn't send him many text messages, anyway…

Caught up in his reverie, Butters shook his head. No time for day dreaming now! W-well it sure wasn't Eric's fault for not texting him anyway, with all the stupid faces he made- Oh hamburgers, there, he did it again! Maybe his house was just making him distracted. Another glance up at the clock. Seven twenty five. He'd spent ten minutes moping! Well that's just what he got for bein so silly.

"Bye mom, b-bye dad!" He yelled up the stairs, and was disappointed when the only reply he got was a

"Butters, we told you no screaming! You're grounded, mister!"

Hamburgers, this day only got worse…

"S-Sorry, dad," he muttered, feeling sorry for himself. If only he wasn't so stupid…

Seven twenty six. Maybe he still had time to catch the bus, if he ran. He doubted Craig would make the nice ol' bus lady wait for him, even though he knew he had to take the exam too, and not showing up was a death sentence. He decided to try and make it, and rushed out the door, slamming it shut and not caring if he woke up his parents more, because by golly, he didn't take APUSH all year for nothing! He was going to get college credit if it killed him!


Oh, thank goodness! The bus was there! Butters sprinted faster towards the bus, taking huge strides. Oh please Craig, please hold the door open. But of course, Butters watched as Craig looked his way, looked at the bus, and boarded without saying anything. His heart felt as though it sunk through to his stomach.

Clyde looked his way with pity, and was tugged onto the bus by Craig. But good ol' Clyde informed the bus lady, and she stopped for him, giving him enough time to catch up and then pant as he boarded the bus. Butters panted from exhaustion and happiness, glad that he wasn't going to miss the exam. He smiled down at Clyde, who smiled back while Craig glowered.

Sitting by himself on the bus was relieving. Then again, he always sat alone on the bus. Maybe, one day, he could sit with Cartman and Kyle and Stan and Kenny. Those fellers never really talked to him as much anymore, and Cartman made it very clear that Butters was not to speak to him during school. That would come later on in the day. Butters blushed slightly and opened his bag, checking to make sure that he had everything he needed. Social security number, pencils- oh, wait, that was all. Feeling flustered, he closed his Hello Kitty bag and leaned against the window, watching as the bus passed by the surrounding mountainside.


By the time the test actually arrived, all of the calming measures that he had taken were for nothing. He was sweating profusely and breathing heavily as he looked down at the test that had been handed in front of him. Token raised an eyebrow next to him, watching as he hyperventilated. Butters panicked when he realized he had simply been staring at it and Token was already on page two. Scrambling for his bag, he whipped out his pencil and began scribbling.

The answer to number one couldn't be b or c, the AFL wasn't the first labor union, only the most successful.

Dutifully completing the multiple choice portion of the test, Butters' hand already ached. He wasn't ready for the three essays that laid ahead. Cracking his knuckles, he plunged ahead into the two free response essays, groaning when he read that they were over the progressive era. All that was left was the DBQ, his ultimate enemy.

Staring daggers at the pamphlet when he turned in his free response essay, Butters dove in, leaving everything behind. He would either get a one, or a five, and there was no way to tell until July.


"I-" Butters looked down at the paper in his hands, shaking slightly. "I-" He couldn't manage to get the words out, it was just too unbelievable! Sniffing, he rubbed his eyes with his arm, and dropped the paper he had just received in the mail from sheer joy.

Congratulations Leopold Stotch, you passed the AP US History exam.

Your score:

3


Well now, Butters, great job on getting the lowest score you could possibly get to pass! Review if you're taking the test, and make Butters even happier.