Hey guys...long time no see. Well, this is my Christmas fic. Enjoy.
South Park © Matt and Trey
He lay in his bed, thoughts trapped in his head.
Not long did he have left, before he'd be dead.
He laid back and pondered, teddy under his arm;
"Why would God do this, why lead me to harm?"
He watched his brother hug his sister, his father his wife.
They needed support through this torture and strife.
Despite their tears, sadness too,
Alas, there was nothing left they could do,
Then one winters' night, Kenny slipped away.
Escaping the pain and trials of the day.
His face grew pale and his eyes rolled back.
"Where's Stan?" he asked, before all turned black.
He opened his eyes, in Hell, what bad luck!
He rolled his eyes, groaned, "Really? Dude, what the fuck?
I've been through enough, now to endure this as well?
I really don't deserve anything better than Hell?"
Then from the shadows, a dark figure appeared.
Now who could this be, someone wise and revered?
Or something worse, a creature of evil and bad?
"Quit your bitching, McCormick, come back and see my dad."
So off they marched to the Palace of Doom
Where on a pink couch in a brightly lit room
Lounged Satan, Lord of Hell, sipping tonic and gin
He looked up and smiled, mouth turned up in a grin.
"Oh hey there, Kenny, back here so soon?
You die stupidly often-it's like a cartoon!
Well then, might as well get to sending you home
Your family sure miss you when down here you roam."
"No, Satan, you can't-you can't send me back!
It's all because of me that my family do lack
Good food, money, a new front door
I am the reason my family are poor.
If not for me, it wouldn't be so hard
No need to receive so many sympathy cards.
My parents they might not have turned to drink
Because of me, there's not much lower for them to sink.
So let me stay here, I'll be out of the way
And my family will hurt a little less each day.
My siblings will get the care they both need
Not be ignored for the booze and weed."
The weeks and the months went by in a flash
Skiing, boobs and new schemes for cash
Chin-balls and atheism, exposure to porn
Through all this Kenny's friends passed, still far from forlorn.
In Kenny's place, there was Butters, then later came Tweek
Basically, any guy who could be quiet or meek.
The guys were just fine without him, of course they didn't care
About the lack of the parka, covering golden blonde hair.
Through all this, Kenny stayed, still safe down in Hell
Without him, things were fine; all seemed well
He was dead now, at peace, couldn't be killed anymore
No more having to worry what deaths were in store.
Yet at the same time, he'd often look down and sigh
Perhaps even feel a tear form in his eye
(Not usually though, he's not a pussy like Stan)
Seeing him sad, Satan came up with a plan.
Not long before Christmas, a year from his death
Kenny sat thinking, alone and bereft.
A hand on his shoulder, a throat being cleared
And suddenly, to Satan's home he was steered.
"Kenny, I think we need to talk"
Said Satan, "Come on, we'll go for a walk.
I've a proposition which I think you should hear.
You should know your own mind after this long, slow year."
The pair walked in silence, for what seemed a long while
When they had walked for almost a mile
Kenny turned to Satan, "Okay, so what now?
What's this proposition stuff anyhow?"
"Kenny" the Lord of Darkness began
"All this time, I've been evolving a plan.
You're not meant to stay here, the world is in need
Of you, your presence, your life and your deeds."
"No, dude," Kenny said with a scowl,
"His voice became low; it was almost a growl
"We've talked all this through, nobody needs me
I wish you'd just drop it, this could all be so easy."
Pulling himself up to his tremendous full height
Satan glowered at him, his eyes burning bright
"Kenny, for God's sake, are you really on glue?
"Your family's in pieces, your friends need you."
"Why do you think they brought in Butters and Tweek?
They want you, Kenny; it's you that they seek.
They want so badly to see your face.
They've tried, believe me, but you can't be replaced.
You've got a destiny, Kenny, and now you must choose:
Go back and face it, or let everyone loose.
The choice is yours, it's now or never.
The decision will stay with you, forever."
Kenny stood, speechless, perfectly still
Down the back of his neck, an inescapable chill
He didn't have to go back; he could remain here in hell
But then, why should his friends have to suffer as well?
With a blink of his eyes, he was laid in the snow
"What the fuck, dude? Where'd Hell and Satan go?"
How could this be? How was he able to revive?
He'd no idea but still, he was surely alive.
"Where have you been?" his friends asked, as he appeared from thin air
He replied with a smirk "Just right over there"
They'd never believe him, not even if he'd told
His fantastical story, if he'd been so bold.
Yes, things were back to normal, or so it would seem
But yet, there was still something missing from this scene.
To his family, not a single word had been said
Of how he was here, suddenly back from the dead.
In front of his home on the wrong side of the tracks
Kenny stood waiting, trying to relax
What was the proper way to return here once more?
Eh, what the fuck, he knocked at the door.
A few moments passed, he stood there in the moonlight.
No one seemed to stir, would he be here all night?
But finally, from inside, footsteps appeared.
The door opens, "Hey, Karen, I'm here."
Silence then shrieking, tears started to fall
A hug between siblings, a desperate call,
"Mommy, Daddy, Kevin, come quick!"
No notice of the cold, or ice growing slick.
The family emerged , staring; this was all so surreal
Then to break the silence, "It's me, guys, I'm real."
"Fuckin' took y'long enough," his father said, gruffly, for something to do
But then he embraced Kenny, "Goddamn, son, I missed you."
Back into the house, closing the door
The family retreated, complete now, once more.
Outside in the cold, the snow continued to fall
Truly a happy Christmas, for one and for all.
"Goddamnit, Kenny, that poem was gay!"
Cartman. Naturally, still, probably should expect that from him. But as long as the others paid attention. They won't think it now, sure, but maybe, in time, they might think back on it and start to realise, start to understand...
"Yeah, Kenny, what the fuck? I'm not a pussy. Butters and Clyde both cry way more than I do, asshole!"
"Stan's easier to rhyme than Butters or Clyde, duh. And you are kind of a pussy, Stan, that's what we rip on you for."
"Dude, fuck you!"
"W-well now, h-hold on, K-Kenny, I-I ain't no pussy. D-Dad said he'd soon knock that outta me!"
"Butters, shut up, y'queerbait."
"Don't call Butters queerbait, queerbait!"
Jesus fucking Christ.
"Guys, Shut the fuck up and tell me what you thought of my poem! Did it not, I dunno, explain anything? Make you think about anything?"
"Ffft, no. It was just really, really gay."
"Cartman, just fuck off!"
Garrison looks up from his magazine,
"Kenny McCormick, you watch your fuckin' language! You go to the Principal!"
"Dude, what the fuck?"
Fucking Garrison, fucking Cartman, fucking class. Who am I kidding, they'll never frigging get it. Still, at least this is the last day of school. I lean against the Christmas tree outside Principal Victoria's office. Which starts to wobble. Shit. I pull it back towards me. Damn, this thing is heavy...wait, wait, no, don't fall...