It was a breakfast like any other. Like any other that Tweek cooked for, at least. They switched back and forth who would cook their big breakfast they had every Saturday morning, and this Saturday, Tweek had decided on omelets. Omelets with Lucky Charms cereal.

"Delicious," Craig said monotonously, examining how the marshmallows had melted in slightly with the eggs and cheese. Tweek wasn't sure if Craig really meant that or if he was being sarcastic: each time Craig ate Tweek's food he had the same paranoia, but he tried to think of his happy place and remind himself that, even if Craig was being sarcastic, he did always eat everything Tweek gave him, which was a compliment in itself. His reaction to Craig's ambiguous comments were the only area he had made any real progress with in therapy; even if he could barely function without an immense amount of caffeine, and even if he was a slave to his irrational phobias, he could always manage to talk himself down from whatever paranoia he had about Craig, with the reminder that, regardless of what he said or did, he still loved him. Of all his ruminations, that was the one thought he wanted and tried the most to hang on to.

"I-I'm glad you like it," Tweek gulped and went to sit down at the kitchen table across from Craig, when a sudden rattling noise from the front door made him pause. "Oh my god people are trying to break into the house oh my god I haven't even eaten yet I'm going to die hungry–!"

"Hold on," Craig reached out and touched Tweek's vibrating hands. "I'll go see what it is." He did, and returned almost immediately. "It's just mail. And we got an invitation."

"Invitation? Who's inviting us where? Why would someone do that? That's too much pressure!"

Craig turned it over in his hands and opened it. "It's from Clyde. He's having a pool party and wants us there. It has a theme. Coconuts. With costumes."

"Coconuts? But I hate coconuts, I always are afraid they'll turn into porcupines and eat me!"

"Well," Craig placed the invitation on the table in between them. "We can dress up as the porcupine's natural predators. You can be a wolverine. I'll be a human. That way, if there are any porcupines, they'll run away from us."

"Do you really think that would work?"

"Yes." Craig nodded decisively, but before he could add any explanation, the phone rang.

"Hi Mom," Craig said almost immediately. He knew that no one else would be calling them this early on a Saturday morning. Then again, they didn't get very many phone calls at all. They had the internet now.

"Did you get Clyde's invitation?" Mrs. Tucker asked. There was something... off... about her voice, but nothing that Craig could identify. Or care about, really.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Well, he's having a party for all of his lady friends, and I suggested that he invite you and Tweek as well! You need more friends of your own kind."

"Our own kind?" Craig asked confusedly. "But we're not girls."

"Yes, but you're close enough, right?" Mrs. Tucker dismissed, "I know how you gays like to be seen, it's on all of the TV shows, like Spongebob and X-Men!" Before Craig could protest, she continued. "Besides, I bought you the cutest bathing suit that you could wear!"

"But it's a costume party," Craig finally managed to squeeze in. "Tweek's going as a wolverine and I'm going as a human."

"Humans wear bathing suits, don't they?"

It didn't work. "Yeah, but–"

"Come by later to pick it up. Mommy loves you!"

"Bye."

Even if they had never been to Clyde's house before, they would have been able to identify it from several blocks away by the smell of cheap perfume and tanning lotion alone. And the sound of Clyde's demonstrative crotch thrusts. Which you would think don't involve much sound, until you saw (and heard) Clyde's.

But as they were familiar with Clyde's house, Craig and Tweek were also adept at shielding themselves from the stimuli that assaulted their senses. They were so skilled, in fact, that it wasn't until they were standing on Clyde's front step that Tweek, peeking out from under the furry hood of his wolverine costume, realized what Craig was wearing.

It was a tiny black speedo, several sizes too large for Craig, with the extra fabric shortened at the sides with a giant, shiny safety pin.

"How can you wear that?" Tweek shrieked, "you're so naked, what if you're secretly a vampire and you didn't tell me and then you started sparkling all over the place and then people killed you, and then if your safety pins come undone and I prick myself and they poke a hole in my side and I start deflating and—"

"My mother made me," Craig stated, "I have to wear it."

Before Tweek could protest further, the door opened. "Yo, bra, what's shakin'?" Clyde leaned on the door post, winking and trying to simultaneously show off his jelly-bean-sized biceps and his shadowy hints of a six-pack. The pair on the stoop weren't as impressed as Clyde had hoped; Tweek was too busy staring at and fretting over Craig's outfit, and Craig simply stared at Clyde, asking, "Are we coming in or what?"

"Right." Clyde blinked, brows furrowed, and stepped aside to let them in. Craig, with Tweek following close behind, immediately continued to Clyde's backyard, to the party, where his previous confusion regarding Clyde's lack of a pool was explained.

Clyde's backyard, a medium-sized plot of grass surrounded by a white picket fence, was littered with lawn chairs, blankets spread out haphazardly on the ground, and fake palm trees with beach balls painted brown, two on each tree, to resemble coconuts. In the middle of the yard stood a small plastic, blow-up pool, its water empty save for a single fallen leaf, and in one far corner was a sprinkler, abandoned and laying on its side, shooting sparks of water up into the air and down onto itself again.

As Mrs. Tucker had said, all of Clyde's "lady friends" were there, but of course "all" meant five or so girls, huddled around an anthill near the fence. Clyde sauntered over to them, intending to introduce Craig and Tweek, but one of the girls shooed him away. "You'll scare the ants!" she shouted, not even bothering to lift her eyes.

Ignoring that bit of social failure, Clyde returned to Craig and Tweek. "So, what do you think?" he asked hesitantly. While the question was more directed towards Craig, who Clyde assumed was more likely to answer, it was Tweek who commented first.

"Why do you have penis trees all over the place?" he cried, "that's worse than just coconuts!"

"Penis trees? What?" Clyde asked, "Oh, no, those, uh, those are supposed to be boobs." He pointed towards the pairs of coconuts.

"That's even worse!" Tweek jumped. "Boobs are huge and scary and what if they pop and spray milk everywhere, I don't want to be covered in boob milk!"

"I mean, they're not filled with milk, they're just beach balls, they have—" Clyde tried to explain the detailed process of filling up beach balls, but Tweek had already scurried over to where Craig had plopped down on a beach chair.

"They're fine, Tweek, really," Craig repeated, "and besides, I need them, or it'll fall down."

"But they're so huge! And so pointy! What if it came undone and I got stabbed, that thing could go to way below my dermis!" Tweek tried to fidget with the fur of his costume, but his long faux-adamantium claws – after hours of searching for pictures on the internet, Tweek's wolverine costume ended up as a combination of the animal and the superhero – impeded his movements, and in trying to untangle himself from the claws, Tweek accidentally ripped a humongous gash in the arm of his costume. "Oh my god!" Tweek shrieked, and tried to simultaneously examine and grip the tear closed, but he only managed to tear it further. "My costume!" he groaned, "now there's a hole and bugs will crawl up it and live on my body and I won't even know because I'm still clothed!" He pulled his arms into the torso of his outfit and tried wiping away the bugs he was sure were already there, causing himself to jump and stumble about the yard twitchily. Frustrated with his lack of progress, Tweek decided simply to remove the costume, so that he could see if any bugs had infiltrated his costume. He struggled out of the fur, looked down, and saw nothing. But his sigh of relief caught in his throat; seeing 'nothing' included seeing his exposed crotchal area, as he had previously decided to not wear underwear, lest the gnomes get another opportunity to steal it.

Naturally, everyone's eyes were glued to Tweek. This, of course, included Craig, who, rolling his eyes, began to undo his safety pins.

"Here," Craig called out, sliding down his speedo. "Wear this." He threw the bathing suit at Tweek, but it merely hit his chest and fell to the ground, as Tweek's hands were both occupied: one trying to hide his genitals, the other attempting to block all potential access to his anus. They reached for the other's outfit – Tweek for the speedo, Craig for the costume – but a loud crack of sudden thunder in what was otherwise a clear skied evening interrupted them.

A huge cloud of smoke sprang out of nowhere where the blow-up pool once was. Once was, because now in its place stood a giant walrus. Not even having huge tusks and whiskers could mask the gigantic anthropomorphic grin splayed across the walrus's face.

"Finally, you naked little shit," the Ambien Walrus, began to roar, before stopping and staring at the pile of fur in Craig's hands. "What the fuck is that?"

"It's a wolverine."

"Fuck!" the walrus pounded the ground with a flipper. "I fucking hate wolverines, I always think they're fucking little honey badgers, those things scare the shit out of me. Uhhh... another time! I will get you, you asshole!"

And as quickly as it had arrived, the walrus was gone, leaving in its absence a blanket of silence. Nobody said a word, whether out of confusion, fear, or just plain indifference. Except, somehow, Tweek.

"Oh my god was that a naked demon?" Tweek cried, peeking out from where he had ran to behind a fake palm tree.

"Uh, I don't know." Craig was still holding the costume, but hadn't bothered to put it on yet. "But I'm done here. Red Racer is almost on. Wanna go watch that?"

Tweek didn't answer, but he allowed himself to be led by out of Clyde's backyard, to begin the journey home.

Clyde and the girls were still speechless, having absolutely no idea what had just happened, or why. All they knew is that they were safe, and that's all that mattered. But too bad they were unaware of how soon that feeling of safety would end . . .