This requires an explanation. I've always loved the catch-phrase, "Catch you on the flipside." but I don't know what it means. I always thought the flipside was the afterlife, then I thought, "What if it's a place in hell?" which lead to me wondering why you would see someone down there if they're alive. Then I thought, Kenny'd know. He's creepy like that. And this was born!
Kenny had a slightly peculiar way of saying goodbye. He smiled, gave a two-fingered salute, and called over his shoulder, "Catch you on the flipside."
Then he was just gone.
Kyle always wanted to know what he meant by that. "Wait!" he'd called once, anxiously gripping the curious blond's sleeve to prevent him from disappearing. "What does that mean?"
Kenny had smiled mysteriously and explained a little cryptically, "I'll probably die before I see you again... And if so, I'll see you on the flipside."
Kyle froze, fear brightening his eyes as he questioned frantically, "What's the flipside? Am I gonna die?"
Kenny pressed his lips against the redhead's curly locks, drawing him close in a hug, and responded reassuringly, "Of course not. The flipside... Is my vice."
And then he was gone, leaving Kyle to stumble without the support and Stan to watch the frightened redhead and wonder what the flipside was.
Kyle stood out on the porch, watching the figure in the street worriedly. It was raining buckets, the streets nearly flooded, and he was just standing there, sans parka, shirt, shoes, socks, hat, gloves. The redhead himself was decked out in standard South Park clothing, wondering how Kenny hadn't frozen to death. "Come in!" he called anxiously, "You'll catch your death!"
He turned his head, revealing an amused smile. He looked powerful standing there, big and strong and surreal, like something straight out of Hollywood. His strides were unhurried and purposeful. When he stood on the steps right in front of the redhead, still in the rain though Kyle was not, he tossed his soaked hair out of his eyes and smiled, calmly and authoritatively removing the redhead's hat and tossing it towards the house. In this manner, the frightened teen was stripped of his scarf, his jacket, his gloves, and, at the blond's insistence, his shirt, shoes, and socks.
"It's not that cold." Kenny whispered playfully as he dragged him out into the rain, leading him towards the street. Instinctively, Kyle curled in on himself, expecting the fat drops of rain to hit him like ice, only to realize with a jolt of shock that the rain was warm. He relaxed, allowing Kenny to surround him, embracing him from behind in a way that may have made him blush if he weren't focused on the shock of warm rain. "Wow..." he whispered, giggling when Kenny chuckled against his neck.
The blond slid his hands into Kyle's front pockets and swayed them, nuzzling his neck and humming a song that seemed vaguely familiar. "Kenny..." Kyle sighed after a moment.
"What's the flipside?"
"A place in hell. An exclusive place in hell."
"Why would you see me there?"
"You're my most important person."
"Oh." Kyle mulled this over in his mind for a bit, wondering why Kenny would be allowed in this place. "What's it like there?"
"What parts are there?"
"The entrance... The park... And then the individual pockets of Flipside."
"What's the entrance like?"
Kenny pressed his lips to Kyle's pulse, knowing he wouldn't protest the contact as long as he kept feeding him information. "It's usually empty. Not many people who are allowed there are brave enough to see what they want most in life from their most important person."
Kyle made a noise to show he was listening, pressing back against the teen's chest. "It's kind of creepy." Kenny continued after a pause, "The walls are lined with uniform, blank mannequins. Life-sized porcelain dolls. The first time you visit, one of the dolls is chained to a poll, and your name is tattooed across it's chest. When you touch it, it becomes what you want most."
"Me." Kyle supplied, mind a little blank.
"You." Kenny agreed.
"What do you do with the doll?"
"It's not a doll anymore after that. It's a person. A Flipsider."
"A Flipsider." Kyle repeated mindlessly. "What do you do with your Flipsider?"
"Whatever I please."
"What do you please?"
"I can do whatever I want. Cause you pain, pleasure. Make you laugh, cry. Harm you, heal you. I can fuck you, hold you, love you, kill you... Anything I please. All damage is reversible."
Kyle shuddered. "The Flipsider is a perfect copy of me?"
Kenny smiled against his neck. "Yes. I can give and take wounds, emotions, and some thoughts, but essentially, Flipside Kyle is your reflection."
Kyle began to tremble, shaking in Kenny's grip. "Essentially," Kenny continued, "I've fucked you. I've made you bleed. I've made you beg for me. I've destroyed you and rebuilt you and loved you. Essentially, I've put my mark on the part of you that resides in hell."
"I'm scared." Kyle admitted, a slight wobble to his words.
"Honestly..." Kenny chuckled, "I'd be worried if you weren't."
Kenny smiled up at the crying sky as Kyle ripped away from him, running full sprint not towards his own home, but towards Stan's. Of course. Kyle's go-to.
Several days later, Kenny found himself pinned violently against a wall behind South Park High. He knew Stan, who was doing the pinning and looked positively murderous as he stared down at the blond, was here for Kyle, who he knew had been hiding under the blankets for the last few days. "How dare you." Stan growled, tightening his grip on the grinning hoodrat's shoulders.
"How dare I what?"
"You know exactly what."
"Oh? Enlighten me."
They had a stare off, both refusing to back down. Their expressions didn't match the situation. Stan looked like he might start crying and Kenny simply looked amused. The larger boy snapped first.
"You!" he started in an irate, accusing tone, "You filled his head with these... These horrible tales of a... A clone of him that you torture and fuck and control in some corner of Hell."
"Tales?" Kenny asked. "Of Flipside?"
"Yeah, asshole. Of Flipside and Flipside Kyle. Why the fuck would you tell him that you violate a copy of him every time you die? Then you just had to get hit by a truck and he's been a crying mess since." Stan punched him across the jaw, maybe not as hard as he could have, but enough to bruise. "Do you think filling his head with these sick lies is funny, McCormick?"
"Lies?" Kenny whispered, wrapping his arms around the taller boy's neck and resting his lips at his ear. "I might be telling Kyle about Flipside to fuck with him... But who says Flipside isn't real? Who says I didn't dominate Flipside Kyle last night to my own ends? Who says there isn't a Flipside Stan?"
Stan froze, eyes wide and unseeing at the implications. Kenny chuckled, breaking away and walking off, calling over his shoulder with a two-fingered salute and a sadistic chuckle, "Catch you on the Flipside."