#after all they do say genetic plays a huge role when it comes to psychopaths mostly from the father side

[bloogers-boogers]

So I've been getting into the sp fandom lately and let me tell u it's a must for me to do a one-shot.. It's gonna be a good attempt

One-shot SP

/CURSE/

(Kinda shipping? (Kyle/Cartman) Kinda trying to replicate the imagination land scene where Kyle dies an other various scenes, Cartman(important for the plot),Cartman and Kenny lore,some Stan against, and death of a main character. Kenny plays a role, also y'know death and resurrection that's he's thing.. right?)

It a pretty damn long One-shot.

It's been a common day in the little mountain town of Colorado called south park, Randy had arranged a parade/party at one of the most popular places in town 'DikinBaus' because of some festive weed special (trying to make it seem out of the ordinary weed when it comes to the same shit with a diffrent label) that Stan Marsh and his three other friends would care less about, well, atleast one. Eric Cartman.

Yes, the little evil master mind of south park.

Bitch was angry and quite bitter about the fact that his old home was no longer his, after being part of creating it's popularity. Though he did deserve it and his jewish friend made it know.

"I don't know why you're so pissed off, Cartman, you we're asking for it when you took advantage of Butters hard work," The latter roll his eyes.

"Whatever, it's Butters," He stated, as if it were obvious.

"Dude, just be grateful you got your old house back," Stan tune in, his tone was a little bit frustrated then it should've, luckily his fat friend payed not much attention to it. He wished he could move back, be close to his friends, have his old life back. But his father was farther than an idiot to just let go of his marijuana dream.

"How am I gonna be grateful about losing my DikinBaus!?," He exclaimed angry. Kenny, their blonde friend snorted, "shut up Kinny!."

"C'mon man, it's not a big deal," He patted the bigger boy's shoulder in hopes he'll just moved on from the subject. But ofcourse, he didn't.

"No! I can't leave it like this with out a fight!, I work hard for that shitty place to reopen, it's not fair!," He clenched he's fist, glaring at the nothing.

Both three boys just looked at each other, in a mutual agreement of not getting involved.

Later that day, Stan was forced to partake in the event host by his father, ofcourse not before arguing and complaining about it being just another waste of the income they made, for then later on his father to complain about how they had no money for more resources. Repeat all the time. Stan just hold the bridge of his nose outta frustration.

No boy his age should be this stress out for his parents doings, in this scenario, his dad.

"Hey Stan, check this out!," Exclaimed excited, Randy. The boy followed him, as he has no other choice but to listen.

"What the fuck is that," Stan questioned a little horrified, confused? He couldn't tell, cause he actually gave two shits. But this looked outta the ordinary of the ordinary. If that even makes sense.

There was a seagull looking mutation with what it seems like a rats feet. For a second there he was worried his father accidentally caught man bear pig's kid.

"It's the Tergrity farms mascot!," He exclaimed even more excited taking out a board outta nowhere, explaining his new strategy.

Oh. So that's that.

"Yeah, bye," said lastly, in a flat tone, no longer caring about the rest before returning outside.

Stan was not gonna get involved, no matter how bizarre and crazy his dad's Karen episodes get, he told himself for the millionth time that same day. He was NOT getting involved.

[...]

"For fuck sake dad! What did you do!?," He shouted confused by the change of event, being tied in a chair was far from the plans he had for this evening.

"Uh.. well, let's say it a TEGRITY strategy," Randy smiled commercially, clearly seems nervous. Clearly fucked up. The latter frowned from that response.

Stan sighed, "okay. What did you do," he asked again, finally had calm himself and processed the situation he's in. No pizza night at Tolkien's tonight he said to himself.

"Well, remember my mascot?,"

He nodded, ofcourse he did, it all happened today.

"Well turns out he's like, related to chutulu."

Stan wanted to grip his nose outta frustration again, so bad, after hearing that, "what?," he asked again. As he couldn't believe that thing was related to.. unfuckin' believable. Actually it was definitely believable.

"Yeah, I don't know how'd it happened but he found out and wanted to massacre me and my farm, can you believe that! I even offered some of my weed," said exhausted while having a pout face as a child being scolded.

"Okay, so how the hell did we end up being tied up?."

"Stan, there's a bunch of cult members in south park," he stated obviously while he rolled his eyes by being questioned this much. But he still bother to answer, "those motherfuckers knew chutulu wanted us so they found us, knocked us and tied us up, as their way of worship. We're pretty much a sacrifice."

"But why me!?," he stated bitterly as he was NOT trying to get involved today.

"Because you are, Stan! I told you about my strategy did I!?."

"I left!?."

They bicker a bit more before Stan decided to speak out for a solution.

"Look, I think, I have a plan. You know Cartman?."

"Your fat friend? What about him?."

"Well, he manipulated chutulu to join he's superheroe team awhile ago. Thing is, if we get Cartman, maybe he can help us."

"Isn't he like, a dick?."

"It's complicated. Let's just find a way outta of these ropes."

"Easy." Randy picked out of his pocket shirt with his mouth some weed and light it up with his feet and a lighter he had in his pants. And burned the ropes. He then untied him.

"You could've done that all this time!?," exclaimed baffled by his father's stupidity once again.

"No time Stan!," he said while he ran into the depths of the woods with the boy following behind.

Yes, they were in the woods. Let's move on.

[...]

Kenny found himself running like a mad man, he did not mean to provoke the dark lord, but he did. He just wanted answers about his curse! Was that too much to ask?

But here he was, regretting kicking one of those big claws of him after being bluntly ignored by chutulu, it seems it was looking for something. He assumed it was Cartman as he couldn't link the others with it. That fat fuck. What did he do!?

He couldn't bare die today as he was not aware how far chutulu would detroy the town by tomorrow. He needs to know why it's here, and ofcourse, his curse! Cause it seemed no one cares besides himself! Fuck!

He dodge one of chutulu lasers that ended destroying a car near by.

He hid in one of the markets from town, as if that's gonna make a difference. Then he saw him. That fat fucker! He was with Kyle and Butters in the meat section. Both seemed to be arguing about something while the blonde hold a riffle nervously watching the two, he'd care less right now about whatever those two were arguing about.

"You son of a bitch!," He slammed cartman into one of the freezer, Cartman looked at him with opened feared eyes, "what did you do!?."

"K-kinny..!?."

"Woah, dude, calm down," said, Kyle, "what's going on?."

" 'What's going on?'," he responded incredulous, "chutulu's out there destroying the town and killing countless souls! That's what going on!."

"Oh," Butters said not being so stoked about it.

"Yeah, we kinda know that, asshole," the brunette said casually loosing his grip.

"Eric thinks that chutulu may be here because of a mission," Butters explained.

"Oh really," the blonde said sarcastically eyeing him, "Cartman why the fuck did you summon chutulu here!? Do you know all the damage you've done."

"Excuse me? I didn't do shit, kinny!," Cartman exclaimed offended, by being accused so surely.

Yeah, he has committed various, and I mean, VARIOUS crimes, but he did NOT do this. Though he must admit to himself that this turn of events could be convenient for him to destroy DikinBaus. As no one in this stupid town does not deserve such a wonderful magnificent place. That HE made. And as such rightly deserves it and rightly could destroy it if he wanted to, right?

"Like I'm gonna believe whatever shit comes from your mouth, fatso," Kenny stated.

"It's true." Kyle spoke up, "what Cartman said.. look, I've been following this asshole since he said he was gonna try to do something about that dumb hotdog place, so, I followed him around-"

"Like and stalker," bluntly added Cartman.

"And-" Kyle continued, ignoring cartman's comment before frowning, "the only thing he's done is shit on Butter's porch and purchasing 200 hotdogs in hopes DikinBaus will run out and shut down. Which is the most ridiculous thing I've ever witnessed–"

"Oh c'mon, Kyel it was brilliant!," Cartman defended his stupidity, "it's easy an effective! I buy all the hotdogs, open my own stand and start a business," finalizing while crossing his arms. Kyle look at him angrily.

Nobody will question where he got the money to pay for all those hotdogs. Most likely in a fraudulent way. Whatever it doesn't matter.

"You ate all the hot dogs, fatass!!."

Cartman frown finding a better comeback, "well..! Atleast I have hot dogs!."

"What?," Kyle responded simply with one eyebrow upward.

"Tsch, whatever. I have a new better plan that I won't be sharing to either of you assholes."

Kenny, snapped. He had enough of this bullshit.

"Guys! Chutulu!?."

"Oh yeah, yeah," Cartman had his arms up. A freaked Kenny is a scary Kenny, "uh, what about him?," he added.

"Really?," he asked again incredulously, not waiting for an answer he continued, "something or someone must have summon the dark lord. We need to find a solution to get him out."

"Dude, that's chutulu. Even if we wanted to do something what can we do about it?," Kyle added skeptical.

"Yeah, it's not like this shitty town deserves to be saved anyways," Butters stated, still a little bitter about having to spend community service cleaning the mess the towns people made just cause he was seen as a sex offender for pinching a girl who he thought had no green on San Patrick's day!

"Well. Cartman?," Kenny asked staring deeply into Cartman's eyes. For some odd reason he felt a connection with the boy. As if his eyes had a glint of something.. he just couldn't recall what it was.

"How would I know?," Cartman asked confused, and kinda annoyed that he hasn't even started his plan B because of an overdramatic Kenny.

"You manipulated chutulu you fat fuck! Do it again," He exclaimed frustrated of the whole thing now looking at the other boys. He's finding all of these unnecessary scenarios being unfold overwhelming. Nobody seems to care, nobody seems to care about chutulu destroying south park, maybe he doesn't care!?

He sigh. Maybe he really doesn't. Maybe all this is an excuse to find out about his curse shield with the idea of being heroic. Screw that. He cared! This town may be fucked up but it was his home! Our home! They must care!

"Okay, I got a plan," Kenny stated finally after a brief silence.

[...]

Cartman found himself frowning angrily standing in the middle of the street, in a kitty costume. He would've rather just picked his coon costume but Kenny stated it'd be more effective and he was definitely trying to mess with him once again, cause he found it hilarious.

Stupid kinny.

The other three boys were hiding behind a dunked car near by him. Not like it'd make a difference. Always put Cartman in the more risky messy situations! Ofcourse he was convinced with a reward if things goes well, not because he's scared of Kenny and he was being a pussy! It was the reward he was promised of!

He heard Kenny snicker a bit, stupid kinny. He finds this amusing didn't he!? Asshole.

He then was faced with the giant dark lord with each step the ground rumble and the buildings breaking and weakening by him.

He gulped. He's done this before, he can do it again. Why is he nervous this time?

Both pair of eyes met. Time for action.

"Miaw Miaw! If it isn't one of my best pals! Miaw miaw!," he then climbed in one of chutulu's feet to his head. My gawd he deserves a reward for this acting. He then pursued on scratching the lord's head as he enjoyed the sensation of the fake claws on his skull, "who's my precious chutulu?," he then added a purr distracting the giant.

The three boys started preparing the trap they had made while upon seeing cartman's manipulation was once again, working. That fucking fatass.

Kyle was trying to knot the rope to one of the polls light but end up falling backwards in the sight of chutulu, who immediately put it's attention on the redhead. Great, just fucking wonderful.

Chutulu immediately turned his attention to Kyle and growled once knowing damn well this was set up.

"Dammit jew!," Cartman shouted making it more obvious that this in fact was, indeed a setup.

'Twack!'

Chutulu looked behind him as he had felt a tiny rock hit his tail.

"Stan?," Kyle said confused. Once Stan and his dad we're visible with some hunting gear on and some guns in there hands.

This was not going as plan. And once again Kenny sigh frustrated. He wasn't sure if the new pair of characters were a good thing or not. He's gonna let it slide this time.

Randy slowly approached chutulu leaving behind Stan, who just cautiously watched.

He then took out a weird mutant goose rat thing from behind his right arm.

Chutulu raised a brow. If that's even possible, but it was. Ofcourse it was.

Chutulu looked down as the mutant thingy went to his side rubbing himself against it's feet. It was heartwarming if it weren't for the situation they were put for and who it was. Then Chutulu did the imaginable, he squashed it.

Stan and Randy looked stoked.

"Well that does it," said Randy.

Both Marshes mouth agape, still looking at chutulu and now dead corpse.

And in splits seconds Kenny put himself in front of the two, standing in front of chutulu embracing his blonde hair exposing his face, he had taken his parka off. Glaring at the monster above. He have had enough.

"What am I?," he asked once more, "answer me now!."

"What's with this one?," Randy side eyed Stan, as he shrugged in response. Confused also.

Chutulu ignored him and approached Randy. Which jolted a bit nervous as he did not figure out what he did to anger the creature. If it wasn't his mascot than what?

He lowered his face to the man and quickly head bunked him to the side, hitting his body through a store window breaking into pieces.

"Dad!!," Exclaimed Stan, rushing in hurry to his father's aid. Noneless a idiot but still his idiot.

"Ow! I'm okay Stan.." the injured man reassured.

In a blink of an eyes the military had showed up and started attacking chutulu, bullets in and out angering the creature, he had put himself on it's feet again trying to block the bullets and attacking the attakers, Cartman still on the dark lord's head completely taken off guard as he was distracted with the dialog was then shot in the back 'ow!' falling off chutulu's head straight to the ground. He had broked his limbs and neck during impact. This anger chutulu even more, as for him kitty Cartman was like a pet.

Kyle and his other two friends had witnessed it. As he shouted, "¡Cartman!," he ran towards him caring less of the chaos around him.

"Fuck, he killed Cartman!," Kenny exclaimed as he approached the now what appears dead boy.

'There's no way'.

"Holy fuck!," said Stan from a far, he was still on his father's side but had witnessed it aswell.

Kyle was next to him analyzing the boy's wounds as he couldn't believe it.

"He's dead.." says Butters while having his mouth slightly agape standing next to Kenny watching the now corpse.

"You bastard.." whispered Kenny, he was staring at his so called best friend, lifeless eyes. It was definitely an odd sight.

"He can't be dead.." Kyle reassured griping into the boy's costume, "he just can't," he frowned.

Stan had already approached the scene as his father seem to had been well standing up not as injured.. or in this scenario dead.

He was also as stoked as the two other boys that were just standing there watching there fat friend laying there. Kyle was the only one on the ground gripping on to Cartman as if he didn't want to let go.

Kyle stared at him for a bit longer than he expected, his body had lost color, his half lidded lifeless eyes staring at him and his hands were cold.. this can't be happening. Cartman can't die. That's not possible!

Kyle with both his fist hit his friend's chest as hard as possible, anger. So much anger!

"Cartman! Can't! Die!," hitting him more times with no intention, it just felt right.

"Woah, dude," Stan put a hand on his best friend's shoulder trying to calm him down he's never seen his friend act this way. And to be honest he never expected to see Cartman this way either. Lifeless.

Kyle smacked Stan's hand off him still in disbelief.

"¡Cartman! Cartman!," he shouted almost in a cry, desperation in his voice," you fat fuck! Wake up!," he again hit as many times as he could, in the dead one's chest.

"Dude, Kyle.. he's gone," Stan said in the most pity voice. As if he could feel what Kyle felt.

"No he's bullshittin' he's fucking bullshitting, Stan!," He said almost as he's trying to believe it himself, he felt himself shake, his eyes felt watery.

A big thump caught their attention leaving the other boy kneeled to the other not leaving his side. He could now care less about that fucking dark lord and this stupid chaotic town!

"You fat fuck...!" he whispered more to himself as he closed his eyes and clenched his fist.

He may hate Cartman, and may have countless times told him that's he's better off being dead. But he really didn't mean it. If Randy can be alive, if Garrison can be alive, if man bear pig can be alive.. then why can't him? It's only fair. Two of those people he mentioned are assholes in there own fucked up way, but have done countless crimes and gotten away of being a dick atleast man bear pig is a wild satanic creature it makes sense if he kills thousands of lives. But those two other bastards are here! Free, alive.. So can Cartman!

"Cartman..?," he said choked as he felt steaming tears fall down his cheeks as he watched his fat friend laying down breathless, no bicker response. No insults. Nothing but flat silence from his part. His death even seems painful, not the typical peaceful dead look, just plain painful.

[...]

As the day ended things went back to normal as per usual, well almost.

Kenny never thought he'd find himself sitting in a funeral of one of his best friends. It was always the way around. For some reason it felt wrong. That he was supposed to be in that box and not his friend.

His mother crying on the side of the casket while some of the south park parents tried to comfort her, but failed. As she was never that close to them anyways. Besides, deep inside she knew no one would fully understand what she feels as she knows her son wasn't the best of person's. And that probably there were people from this town who'd want this or asked for this. But she? She saw the evil in him and had gotten tired of his stupid schemes but that was still her little boy and she will always be his mother. And that won't ever change, so the pain will always remain there. And everyone else was an hypocrite in her eyes.

The four boys remain silent, listening to the ceremony behold them. Yes four boys, as for now that Cartman would no longer partake in their group they added Butters in his place.

"So, do I like have to act like an asshole now?," Butters asked grabbing their attention.

"Uh no?," Stan answered.

"Well if I'm gonna take Eric's place I think I should like try to act like him, like when you guys once choose Clyde because he was the second fat boy of our class..?"

"No Butters, you don't have to act like Cartman," Stan stated now a little annoyed, this wasn't the place or time to discuss something like this when their friend hasn't still been buried. It kinda stings.. this feels fresh. It is fresh. Who knew this fat fuck would affect him?

"Are you sure?."

"For fuck sake Butters, shut up!," Kyle exclaimed angrily, receiving a couple of odd stares from some of the other people there. He cared less to be honest. He clenched his fist as he wanted so bad to punch his face and beat him up. As he'd normally just do with Cartman. Cartman..

Cartman, Cartman, Cartman..

He looked down to his feet avoiding his friends gaze.

[...]

Two days have pass, and honestly this Butters thing just wasn't working. Stan wondered if he truly would prefer having Cartman back than having to witness a whimp like Butters attempt to be a douchebag loser. Don't get him wrong, Butters can be a douchbag but he can't get into Cartman's level. Even if he tries to be. Maybe that's what Butters doing wrong? He's attempting to be someone he's not when he can easily be himself as a douche. But still, not Cartman.

For much of Stan's surprise, south park still hasn't changed a bit after his friend's passing. It's still chaotic, and bizarre. And as hard to admit it even feels longer and even torturous. New characters appear here and there, some were dicks, others were plain awful, some just bland boring ass people. He couldn't believe it, he's actually starting to miss him, as these other characters just feel forced to continue continuity when it's just full filling!

It's just two days. Two fucking days. He's been longer than that with out seeing his fat friend and he's okay with it, even thankful, and yet knowing he won't ever be seeing him because he's dead just changes things.

Let's not even talk about Kyle. Out of the the three. Yes, he's not counting Butters. Fuck Butters!

Kyle has been the most affected. Ofcourse he also has to witness the cringey attempts of their idiotic blonde friend, trying to become his new "arch-rival" as that comes in the packaging of being Eric Cartman. Including being a selfish, manipulative piece of shit. Anyways, point is, to be Eric Cartman you must also hate Kyle Brofloski. And Butters just doesn't have it in him to fully hate on someone or just give him the time of day Cartman would normally do daily, actually obsessively to Kyle.

So here he was, on one of the seats of the school buss behind Kenny and Butters, hearing Butters trying to bicker Kyle. It really feels surreal.

"So, Kayl."

"It's 'Kahl', if you're trying to mimic Cartman atleast do it right," he responded back with an added eye roll at the end.

"Well, geezz.. I mean Ay! Shut up you dumb jew! I'll do and say what I want, whenever I want!."

Well, now that's actually better. Stan actually had to repressed a laugh cause he actually found that funny.

"Wow, Butts you're getting better," complimented Kenny.

Butters beamed and stared at Kyle, who silently watch another kid entering the bus. He really did not bothered putting his attention on the blonde.

"C'mon Kyle, you must admit that was pretty good," He tune in, trying to get Kyle to loosen up.

"Yeah.. I suppose," Kyle then looked up at Butters while the other just looked back nervously. Kyle sigh, "can you fight?" he then added with a glint of mischief while the other two boys stared at Kyle, confused for the sudden change in demeanor. Butters looked a little uncertain on what to answer.

As he should, this is Kyle we're talking about.

"O-ofcourse I do!," In fact, Butters does know how to fight, just not Kyle, never Kyle.

"Great, meet me up after school in the playground," said finalized while standing up to get off the bus.

"Ah geez.." Stan heard Butters whispered before getting off the bus to join his friend.

He didn't know what Kyle had planned, but he sure wants to find out.

[...]

"Oh geez! I don't think I can be Cartman no more!," exclaimed Butters with a couple of bruises in his face, tired, "Kyle was beating me up like a butcher to its meat selection!."

"Well that is Cartman's job to deal with y'know," Stan added. He figured this must be a way for Kyle to get rid of Butters. So he followed along.

"Yeah dude, if you're gonna be Cartman. You must know that you have to become Kyle's personal punching bag," Kenny tune in, actually enjoying the laugh. He knew we were all messing with him. Cause in fact, it seems Stan was not the only one bothered by Scotch.

"Oh Jesus!."

"Man, actually I do believe you can become Cartman, even better. As you seem to be more capable of taking Kyle's moods," yeah, we can be assholes sometimes. Stan smiled a bit.

"Oh boy.." he was not liking what he was hearing. Before adding anything further Kyle approached the group, tuning in with a happy humming.

"Hey there guys," he then glared at Butters, "Butters."

"AHHHHHH!!!," He scream while dashing out of there before adding, "Screw you guys I'm going home!."

"Well, that does it," Kyle shrugged.

"Guess no one can deal with you more than a day," Kenny added.

"I guess so."

"So now what?," Stan questioned. Everything just went silent.

Normally Cartman would suggest some stupid shit, we'd shit on first before following through with it. But even the substitute bailed on us, so we must figure it out on our own.

"Board games..?," Ken then added.

"Nah, done that yesterday," Kyle replied, tapping his foot on the ground, kinda impatient, kinda bored.

"What about basketball," Stan suggested. Once again the three boys remain silent. The wind whistling in their ears as they thought harder and the space between them felt thicker as they become smaller. And smaller, and smaller..

"Who wants to try summoning Cartman with a ouija?," Kenny added plainly, while pursuing on leaving the area to his place, with the certainly the others would followed.

In fact, not only did they follow, they were eager for it.

[...]

-In Hell-

"Dammit! no barbecue at sight in the most hottest place between three worlds!," Cartman exclaimed baffled.

He's been a hell citizen for two days now, and it has sucked. He isn't even allowed to go in the cool clubs cause he was a minor and would be forever be one for eternity! He did enjoy the public torture that was embrace there but besides that, nothing too outta the ordinary he could see up in south park.

He sigh, not knowing what to do, with out his friends to annoy, death feels empty. Boring as fuck! He wants to get outta here!

When he approached a counter were there were two men talking about some country song while drinking martinis, he decided to sit next to them. They immediately stayed quiet as his presence disturb them. 'Dumb bitches' he thought.

"So... how can we get out?," he asked.

"Excuse me?,"

"Yeah, like how do we get out from hell."

"Oh, why the hell do you want to get out?."

"Because it's boring as fuck, i want to live!."

"Well, he is young, George," one of the men side eyed his companion. The other nodded in agreement.

"Well there's no way, young boy," one of the men answered, I'll call him number two. Pftt, number two, get it? Hahaha! He repressed a laugh and continued trying to get more information outta the two grown men.

"Okay, but like there must be atleast someone who COULD know a way outta here, right?," he digged.

"Hmm.." number one begin thinking, pftt.. number one, "actually I believe there is."

Getting the boy's attention, he leaned forward as if it'd help him hear them any better. They were both drunk as fuck. For what it appears. Their talk was all gibberish, but 'anything to get out of here' he said to himself.

"You should look for the 'dark red soul'."

"The 'dark red soul'..?," he murmured.

"Yup, he lives in the coast side, just follow the direction signs and go to the yellow hotel. And just ask for him, someone must know where exactly he lives at, he's quite a party goat," number two explained chugging the bit of martini he had left.

So that, he did, he followed the directions signs that lead him to hotel 'jak n off' it was yellow, that's all he cared about. This asshole better know how to get out or he'll make sure he'll make himself a new bowl of chili.

[...]

"Oh, looking for red man?."

"Sure? Is that dark red soul?," he asked not very sure if it's the same guy he was told of.

"Yeah, that's his party animal name. Follow me."

'Tch, lame.' But he did follow. This tall freckle man took him to a long dark alleyway, he was feeling skeptical at first but then remembered he couldn't die if he was already dead. It's like respawn. Sigh. He remembered when he first came here, he fell in some spikes down a lava-fall (waterfall) he also remembered how painful it was but how quick he repawn back. So all is new.

The man enter a dark room and turn on the lights.

"Yeesh!!," some rookie exclaimed angrily as he was caught in a very peculiar position with a lady friend. Both naked.

"The fuck man!?," the red head turned his gaze down looking at the chubby boy.

His eyes widen as the latter.

"Dad..?" his mouth slightly agape. He couldn't fucking believe it. Out of all things. Out of all people. It was him.

Back then he would've dreamt of finding his dad, feeling complete and happy. But once he knew about what the town hid from him what HE hid from him, he just became bitter with the idea of ever having a father figure in the picture. He figured it would've weakened him and it was for the best to had never encountered or meet him. Cause he hates feeling weak. Cause he isn't.

They both looked at each other for a long brief silent second.

The other two people that were in the room left them, well more like the other dude stole his companion.

"Uh.. 'dark red soul'..?" he added, uncertain what to say. The boy felt his legs wobble and his lip twitch. While the older man had his left eye twitch instead.

"Yeah.." Jack answered quietly.

They were both put in a very awkward situation.

"..Eric huh?.." He then added when he received no answer. He wasn't use to having someone who didn't listen to him. Noneless a son who doesn't. Scott was always so eager to answer him even with the most smallest things. Man, he really missed his boy.

"You know my name?," the boy answered too quickly than he expected. He cough nervously, "ofcourse you do, I'm Eric Cartman," he boost his ego. More like a cover up of his insecurities at the moment.

Jack lighten up a bit at the comment. Indeed he knew about the trouble maker he was, well the trouble in general, everyone in south park knew. The son of a single crackhead whore mother, a whore he slept with.

"I see you're quite a confident one," he said cheeky before nudging the boy.

Cartman jolted by that action. Skepticism was basically like his middle name. That type of gesture is uncalled for and unnecessarily. And it made him feel uneasy for some reason.

"Yeah..right," he decided to ignore the remark, "okay so.. I heard you know how to get me back to south park?."

"Oh, so that's why you're here?," then he realized that the only reason the boy is presented here was because of the inevitable, he died in the upper world.

Maybe it's his instincts, or just maybe because he's been so lonely. He feels this sudden sickening attachment towards the boy. As messed up as it sounds, considering he did ground him into chilly. But in his defense he didn't know. He didn't know he was his father. Would've that made a difference? That he couldn't know. But that made him soften just a bit. That would keep him fooled just for now.

"Yeah, I want to get back home," Cartman stated, as the tense moment had started to drift off coming to a lighter ambient.

"Oh, well I suppose I could help you with that," he lied. He saw Eric's eyes sparkle a bit, as in hope. It remind them so much like Scott's..

"Sweet!," he exclaimed excited. Finally, this literally hell will be over soon.

[...]

"So you're saying you own that hotel?," Cartman asked. As his father explained most of his living down in hell and his ropes in it.

They headed to a taco stand and Jack gesture him to take a seat in one of the chairs while he order.

"Pretty much. Cool huh?," he responded a little proud of his accomplishments.

"Yeah.. so.. 'jak n off'?," Cartman asked while he saw the waiter place their beverages in the counter.

"Haha yeah.. I thought it'd be funny. No one seems to care," he added with a chuckle, taking a sip of his soda.

"Ha.. I- when I was in the upper world me and my friend kinny started a business reopening a old hot dog restaurant and we named it 'DikinBaus' haha.. just to mess around with people," he admitted, strangely still feeling uneasy and nauseous.

"Ha! 'DiknBaus'? I love it!," Jack laughed a bit whipping a fake tear out of his right eye, "I guess we share a certain humor, Eric."

"Yeah.." he look down at his hands. It felt odd talking to his dad. He wasn't sure if it was good but he knew it wasn't unpleasant.

"So you also have a business?," Jack asked interested. His boy does resemble him in ways he won't deny that, though his slut of a mother's features were surely there, all over his face to be in fact.

Scott never seem interest in taking big steps on trying to climb to the top leagues or have big ideal dreams. He seemed okay with living in the low peaceful life and well, following his favorite bands gushing over there new songs as a fellow follower than a leader.

"Well. Turns out they took it away from me when it became one of the most popular places in town! Can you believe that?," he complained, finally letting loose the awkward tension he felt, to vent his anger and displeasure, "and what's worse is that my mom followed through with it and didn't care that we had a lifetime successful business with a cool looking house!."

"That sounds awful, your mom's a bitch," Jack admitted. He can already tell Eric can have a bright future as a business man if he we're to try harder.

The boy jolted. It anger him when anyone talks bad about his mom, maybe Jack can be an exception being his dad and all?.. but it still pinch his heart and left a sour feeling in the tip of his tongue. Yes, his mom's a bitch, but only he can say it. He really doesn't know how to respond to his dad about it.

"Right.." he then continued sipping his soda, "so, how did you manage to create one of the most popular hotels in hell?," ignoring further his mother's mentioned.

"Well, when I was down here I was very popular among the other people that had also previously died. I stood out in a way."

The food had already been served. And Cartman picked one of the bean tacos and starting munching it, he felt his father's stare on him and he felt conscious of how he was eating 'Do I have something?'.

"Really? What made you so different?," oblivious to the other stares he was getting from the other customers.

"My death," He bluntly admitted, making Cartman almost choke on his food. 'Fuck'

"Oh," he flatly stated.

"Yeah, it was a hit back then. Everyone was talking about it, and people glorified me for it. As they say it was one the most radical deaths they've had ever heard happening," Jack explained, smiling by the memory, he found himself oddly proud of it. As it had benefited him in so much, and honestly he liked the attention on him, "As to expected I was very popular and was given many opportunities, like talk shows and lots and lots of 'money'," said emphasizing the last word.

Cartman stared at him for brief seconds, "money?," hint of greed in his words. Jack smiled by that, and nodded. He sure was his son.

"So.. how did you die?," he finally asked that anxious question he's been wanting to know.

"So like, I was kinda forced to help my annoying friends out to bring back chutulu to the underground, even though I didn't want to and wanted to just use chutulu to destroy 'DikinBaus' as because no one deserves such a wonderful place I made, and I was shot by the military by accident while I was on top of chutulu's head, falling straight to the ground," Cartman answered casually, squeezing some ketchup on his plate mimicking the blood he imagine leaving, sparing the costume details and the manipulation tactic he use too.

"Wow, I guess us Tenenorman just have it in us on dying radically and cool," Jack laughed excited with a fist in the air.

The name used took Cartman off guard. He was a Cartman after all! But it really warmed his heart to be complimented that much and it felt nice, being included for once. So he let it slide just this once.

"Yeah, I guess it is!," He exclaimed more confident and puffed his chest out, proud.

Jack gave him a warm smile and Cartman returned it back.

[...]

Jack had went on asking for some books he claimed as 'solutions' for Cartman's problem, while the boy decided to sit back and rethink his choices of the chilly incident and how different it would've been if they had just told him the truth.

Then, he felt a odd buzzing sound inside of his ear. He started smaking his left side with his palm.

"Cartman!," he.. 'was that Stan?', "Dude can you hear us? Are you there?."

'Holy shit, it is the hippie!'

"Stan?."

"Fatass?," another familiar voice chimed in.

"Aye! I Ain't fat you stupid jew!."

"Holy shit, Cartman dude!," Stan exclaimed a little too excited then he wanted to be. Cartman flinched by the intense noise in his ears, it was bothering him.

"Ow! Aye you damn hippie! Lower your voice will yah! My head hurts just hearing you guys!."

On the other side Kyle couldn't hold a smile. The other boys just laughed by being able to still annoy Cartman even being in a whole different life.

"So how's it going over there, Eric," Kenny asked.

"Yeah, you haven't lost ten thousand pounds over there by not eating junk food all day?," Kyle added, knowing well Cartman would answer back by the remark he leaned forward to the magic ball that was centered in the middle of the ouija.

"In the matter of fact, you dumb jew, I'm eating pretty well," The boy answered with puffed cheek and airs of superiority, "But things are going pretty well, it's boring as fuck though I was trying to find a way outta here," he then added. Not even questioning how they even managed to connect with him.

"And how's that going, Cartman?," Stan asked curiously. He really wanted to know if there was way.

Cartman took a few seconds to rehear his friend's question. He considered it a bit. After all, he was starting to find hell quite less boring now that he found his dad. He was not going to admit that to them though.

"Uh- well, I'm still on it. Not much luck though," he lied.

"Dammit Cartman, you fat fuck you really can't do shit with out us can you," Kyle then added, smirking slightly.

"Aye!."

The three boys started howling of laughter.

"Eric?."

Eric jolted in shock by the sudden voice behind him, reappearing to his vision. He reposition himself.

"Everything alright?," Jack answered a little concerned of his son behavior just now. He had just returned with some books at his hold while he witnessed Eric seemingly talking to himself.

It was nothing new to him that his son was mentally fucked up, so he has decided to shrug it off.

"Yeah, everything's alright."

'Who's that, fat boy?,' Stan asked.

"No one.." Cartman answered in a whisper.

"C'mon, Eric. Let's go to my place and discuss about your situation," Jack added with a nod gesturing to follow him.

Eric then pursued on following behind him.

[...]

"I guess we lost connection with Cartman," Kenny stated. As they no longer could hear their fat friend.

"How long will it take for us to be able to contact him again?," Kyle asked a little eager. He was finally being able to enjoy the presence of Cartman again, and honestly it was hard to admit he did miss it.

"Probably tomorrow," the blonde shrugged laying down on his bed, "maybe we should try asking the goths if they know how to bring a person back from the depths of hell."

"That sounds like a good idea," Stan chimed in.

The three were now determined on bringing Cartman back.

On the other side, Cartman found himself admiring his father's pent house. It had one of the most amazing views of hell. He stared at the window for a brief long period while seeing every store, house, streets, even the small from afar hell citizens.

And don't get him started on his gaming room! There was also a personal gym 'meh' who gives a damn about exercise. He continued looking through the home. Big kitchen, bathroom, room.

Wow, literal heaven.

There was a box full of condoms on one of the kitchen counters which his dad immediately hid when he found the boy inspecting the area.

He followed behind him with his arms cross on his back, he liked how much Eric was admiring his success with those big innocent looking eyes, though he knew deep inside that image, he was a little devil just like his mother. Both innocent looking yet easy to sugarcoat someone into giving them what they want, making them devilish.

He remembered venting with pride to his son Scott about being a Denver bronco and the games his won, all the attention he received because of it looking for praise from him, but received none but a small nod while he presided on listening to music. Maybe because he was a teen and no longer interested in hearing about their parents accomplishments and tales.

But Eric, oh small little Eric found everything he did amusing and exciting! He enjoyed that.

"Okay, uh.. Jack?," the boy spoke, uncertain what to call him.

"You can call me dad," The redhead added too quickly, he 'tsch' silently.

It went silent again. Jack figured it'll be a matter of time for things to settle down and fix on it's own.

Cartman had his mouth slightly agape staring at his father trying to pick on any slight hint of bluff in him. But found none. 'No one wanted to be his dad' no one dare tried to be.

Jack was starting to feel a little uncomfortable 'maybe it was too soon?' Before the boy spoke up.

"O-okay, dad," he said with a flat line as his mouth.

That word just felt so cursed coming out of his mouth.

Jack beamed.

[...]

A whole week has passed and the boys were no longer able to contact Cartman. Kyle began to worry if something must have happened to his idiotic friend while in search of an exit from hell.

They had failed miserably to summon Cartman back. Tried the various forms the goths have told them to do. But nothing worked. And now they had lost the only connection they had towards him, Cartman was just too much to bring back he supposed.

Stan had suggested that it may be because he was too fat to fit in any of the portals made. He found that funny cause it was most likely to happen.

He sigh.

The boys decided to just start looking for a new replacement. As they had already gripped on the idea on the other boy's return being less possible.

So here he was. Being the one chosen to pick the new Eric Cartman.

"So why again do I have to pick him?," he asked with a frown expression, having cupped his cheek with the palm of his hand.

"Because, the new Cartman has to be able to keep up with you," Stan stated the obvious.

Kyle raised a brow by that, "What's that supposed to mean?."

"It means, that if he were to be put in a stupid situation where he pissed you off enough to riled you up, then he must be able to budge through with it."

"Doubt it," He said bored. He wasn't interested in finding a new Cartman, he wanted his Cartman back. Their Cartman back.

"Okay, kid. You got the rules?," Stan questioned, eyeing a brunette chubby boy. His name was Tobias. The boy tilted his head not as sure.

"So.. I just can't fight back?," he asked displeased, wrinkling his nose. 'Kinda like cartman' Kyle thought.

"No. You fight back in a sketchy scheme to bite back at Kyle," Kenny explained balancing a pencil with his mouth, "you just let Kyle beat you up."

"But- that's not fair! How can I just let this dude just beat me up?."

Kyle was just standing next to him eyeing the boy. Already annoyed by this interaction. A good start he supposed.

"Dude, it's Kyle you just-" Stan gripped the bridge of his nose to calm himself down, "look, you be an ass, then Kyle beats you up for it. Get it? That's how their dynamic works."

Still not reassured by the answer the boy looked at Kyle in a stance for a fight.

Kyle then did a stance, about to prepare punching the kid. But before even giving him a throw, the boy flinched and cover himself up with his arms.

"Damn, what a pussy," Stan said.

"Ay! I ain't no pussy!," he shouted, his fist were clenched, and his cheeks were red with embarrassment, frowning his face.

"Go on," Kenny tune in, finally fully focusing on the boy, an eye brow raised.

"W-well.. you guys are a bunch of assholes! Fuck you guys!."

"Okay, okay," the blonde boy raised his hands, grinning from ear to ear, "and what am I?," he closed his eyes putting a hand in one of his ears waiting for the correct answer.

"A poor piece of shit!," the boy in question exclaimed, "you're a stupid hippie. That only -" he points at Stan. And continued bashing on all three of us.

Stan and Kenny were grinning widely while Kyle felt a little sting is his chest.

They found their Cartman.

[...]

Cartman on the other hand had been laying down on the living room couch, with a very thin blanket as the environment he was in was already quite warm. Atleast for what his father had explained to him. The weather is only based on just two season changes. Summer and 'winter'. Summer is burning hell, winter it's freezing hell as if it were wanting to snow in literal hell, but it never does. Ofcourse, they were in summer when he had arrived, and it'll be like that for the next eight months.

The TV was on and it was kinda late at night for what he supposed called 'hell hour'. Their night time.

His eyelids were half lifted, tired. He won't deny the first few days spending time with his dad we're great, with the exception of the crappy so called 'food' he made, it was just too.. let's say bland 'healthy'. Unlike his mom's amazing cooking nothing could compare. But he had adapted to it very quickly as Jack had promised him to go out for some yummy foods as a 'treat'. He supposed he could endure the torture for a couple more days as long as he was still able to play with all his video games.

But the more the clock ticks the more bored he gets, the more un-patience he gets. Jack also wasn't always home compared to his mother. He had work, and had explained to him this is how he owns such nice things and keeps things in check under 'their' rooftop. He was barely home, and not only that he'd come back with lady friends and takes them to bed with him, claiming they were there for business. What he's not aware of, is that he's already very familiar with the so called 'business' before. His mother has finally mellow down on it but this prick doesn't seem on ending it anytime soon as some college freshman.

He had guessed his former wife had ended up in heaven as she is no longer in the picture and the man never mentions her. Taking this as a opportunity to sleep around with as many women he could get, just like with his mother. He frown by the thought.

He sigh, as he knows better than to knock on the grown man's door. He knew he had taken a lady friend with him inside, he didn't even bother glancing at him before taking her inside. So he layyed there. In that silent room, all by himself hearing the TV noises slowly being blocked by his brain.

He missed south park.

He missed his friends, and his bitch of a mom.

He closed his eyes. And then he jolted back up.

'That's it!' He exclaimed to himself.

He went through all the pages of the books Jack had brought, claiming they could 'help' which he never bother bringing up again cause he was distracting Eric with other cool more interesting stuff than returning him back to South park. For Eric's surprise they were a bunch of cooking recipes 'nothing of actual use!', he frown angrily. 'That motherfucker!' Literally.

He quietly tip toe to another shelf and started going through each individual book but found nothing. He was getting desperate as he was wondering how could Jack keep that information from him when it was literally the whole reason he found him for.

Then, when he was about to give up a green book had ended up smacking his head 'ow!', it had fell from above the shelf. But there was something special about that book that made him peek inside. There was code written in the back part of the book. He wondered where to use it for but was immediately answered as he look at the front cover. It was the best hint.

He slowly open the front door to sneak out and successfully do so. He ran trough each hall way of that huge building and had entered the elevator tapping a button for the ground floor.

He waited patiently, and had entered the shallow hallway. The book was titled 'room fith'.

He open the room and for his luck, it was opened. Everything was empty, a plain green painted room. He stood there confused thinking in 'what' he had calculated wrong.

Before 'snap!' The ground open immediately letting him fall straight into some cushions. The fall didn't feel so deep. But the whole secrecy makes it all skeptical, as if there's something to hide.

He looked around the small room, it was adorned with many satanic symbols, candles, glasses with sand and there were plenty of papers spread in the floors like rituals. He examine each one and approach the table that had many finished and unfinished work. Building plans, maps from areas of hell he hasn't heard of. He figured this was all work of his father as he can recall his writing from the small notes he had left him in the counter before heading for work explaining how to use certain things of the kitchen and wishing him a 'have a nice hell day' before adding 'you're not allowed to go outside'. Kinda controlling not gonna lie.

He flipped through plans and saw many other rituals of summoning. Who knows, he may be able to summon Kyle here? He snorted of the thought of pissing his friend off by bringing him to hell.

But then stop his tracks when he looked under the table to find a small safe, his eyes widen at the revelation 'this is it! This is were he's supposed to add the code.'

"What're you doing there champ?."

He jolted scared turning into the opposite direction.

Jack was smirking slightly while having his arms cross.

"Guess you're enjoying the tour huh," he approached slowly stopping three steps away from Eric.

The boy gulped felling this huge uneasy felling between them, sweating uncontrollably. He felt small for the first time in his whole life, looking at the older man's eyes.

Before being knocked out.

[...]

He opened his eyes and felt his arms tied to a wooden surface unable to move, he notice once adjusting his vision that he was in fact tied up in a chair. He freaked out, this feels oddly familiar.

He then turned his gaze upwards looking straight ahead. Seeing his father sitting down in a couch from that same room, arms were cross around his chest, man spreading but his gaze was straight towards him. He gulped once more. 'He really looks like Scott right now'.

Jack immediately lightened up once he saw Eric awake, he then proceeded to speak.

"Oh, Eric you're awake!," he beamed, forcing a cheerful tone. He didn't want the boy to realize how disappointed he was for catching him trying to escape, "look, Eric, I'm not gonna hurt you," he tried justifying his actions while he stood up.

"You knock me out and tied me into a chair you crazy bitch!."

"BECAUSE someone decided to bash in a forbidden area," Jack defended, he disliked the naming but bit his tongue.

"Cause you lied to me of helping me get out! Those books you brought were all cooking recipes!."

"Well, yes, they will be of help once you're older, champ! I didn't lie," the red head continued explaining while searching through his drawer, "Eric I want you to know that I'm just doing this for the best for you."

The boy remained silent which gave Tenorman the opportunity to continue reasoning.

"I want you to be able to accomplish your goals, I want you to become successful and I want you to be able to follow my steps in hell."

"What? Fuck that! I don't want to be a business man!."

"Eric, I see so much potential in you and have no plans on letting you waste it like your brother."

Eric froze by the mentioned of Scott.

"Unless you'd prefer ending up living in a old dusty hotdog like your mother lead you too?," Jack said with a blank face showing a couple of prints that had many, and I meant many incidents involving Cartman, "When you first approached me, that same night I made a huge search and found so much information on you, Eric, so, so much. You're quite a special boy," he added with a little hum.

"Scott has lost all his marbles, and as hard it is to admit it. I don't see him giving a good name for the Tenormans."

"Fuck the Tenormans! I'm no Tenorman!."

"But you are, Eric," there was a glint of greed in those eyes, something that made Eric's skin scrawled, "in fact, you're more of a Tenorman than a Cartman," he took out a scrapbook from the left side of his drawer.

He flipped through it and stopped in one, deciding to show the boy what was in it.

It was a old newspaper with a young man, probably in his mid-thirties he had ginger looking features but it looked like him, a way older version of him. He had a smirk on while being dragged by cops in the picture, his features resemble pure chaotic vibes. You just knew by seeing a glance of this man, he was trouble.

The article had titled 'psycho man rigged presidential election'. Eric gulped again.

"That's your great grandfather," he then picked up another of his prints, "you know who also tried rigging a presidential election?," Jack added smirking while showing a picture of Cartman and the head of Disney along of millions of election votes.

He then showed him another article, he so called great grandfather was standing next to three other boys picking on one in peculiar, he supposed a friend. He seemed jewish as he had a star of david necklace on him. This article had nothing too chaotic on it, they just use those four teens as an example of 'what not to be'.

Then his dad showed him a picture of his three friends and himself. One where he was in fact, taunting his jewish friend.

He sigh.

"Okay? That means nothing! I want to get back home!."

"That's the thing, Eric, you're not," Jack said, calming placing delicately the scrap on top of the drawer, "I'm protecting you, by the evil of yourself, the evil of your great grandfather's soul on you and the evil of your mother's influence," he pointed, sitting back down comfortably in the couch.

"I'll actually put of good use of your skill and potentials, someone like you Eric should always waste their potential in something actually beneficial than to just fuck around with," Jack lit up a cigar while he continued his rant, "that's what your great grandfather did wrong, and that's what you're doing wrong. Putting your motives and desires into unbeneficial things, un important things. And for what? Just for a three second laugh before being dragged away to jail or to a 'pyscho ward'?," he denied with his head looking at his expensive shoes, smiling after emphasizing his last sentence.

"You mother fucker.." Eric murmured finally realized what the ginger meant, Jack smirked in understanding, "Scott.. he didn't just go crazy because of what I did, he was already going crazy before I enter his life I just pushed him forward to actually snap!," the boy exclaimed scared.

"Ding ding ding!," Jack nodded happily, "see, you're very smart."

Cartman really wanted to go, run away and hide himself under the warm covers of his bed, under his mother's care far away from this crazy bitch!

Jack had left claiming he'd get him some food.

There he was just sitting there afraid, he really prayed for a miracle, just one more miracle in literal hell!

He closed his eyes tight trying to imagine himself being just trapped in a really bad nightmare.

The boy found the switch in personalities amusing, as it were so sudden and unexpected. In a blink of an eye the man that was seen as a caring cool father turned into a crazy psychotic lunatic! He really started missing his mom.

He felt himself uncomfortable felling the ropes being sunken in his flesh, hurting him and he felt having cramps in his calves, it hurted like hell and he couldn't do anything about it. He began crying outta desperation.

Then, he felt a buzz in his ears once more 'guys?'

His eyes lit up.

"Is there someone there?," he asked sniffing his snot back inside as it was running down his mouth.

"Cartman?."

"Kyle?," the brunette boy smile, 'there was still hope after all!'

"Kahl! You gotta help me! Kahl!," the boy cried with no shame. It isn't unusual for him to seek help from his ginger friend when he had fucked up and needed help solving it, "I can't! I'm all tied up and I-I-! Bwaaahh!!!," he cried louder.

"Okay, Cartman calm down!," his friend responded, "what happened? Is everything okay?."

"No! Nothings okay you stupid fuck!," the chubby boy eyes were all puffed up and red, while he felt his throat dry up, "this fucker lied to me! He lieeed!"

"Who lied to you?," he didn't hear Kyle ask as he cut him off continuing explaining his current situation.

"I need help! I'm tied up in 'jak n off' hotel in room five the ground floor! I'm at the bottom!," He cried once again, between breaths he hold back tears, he was freaking out. He was scared, and he was alone.

Then snapped back nervously when he heard a door open from behind him.

"Hey, Eric. I got you some grilled cheese sandwiches in hopes for you to cheer up a bit, my little future super star," said Jack beaming mimicking his mother's tone, it had sent shivers down the boy's spine, "I don't want you gaining too much weight though, or you'll be seen as a piggy for the rest of your life. And no one, likes, pigs."

"Cartman? Are you still there? Cartman!?," he heard his friend's voice.

He remained silent not trying to reveal his last only solution outta this mess, blocking also Tenorman's hurtful words.

"Why Eric! Look at you, you look like a mess," Jack put the sandwiches aside while running to his drawer and taking out a box of tissues and wipes. He then approached the boy and started wiping his face. Cleaning all remaining leftover tears and the snot that had started to dry up in his mouth.

[...]

"Dude, how the hell are we gonna go find Cartman if he's in hell," Stan exclaimed confused about his best friend's claims.

"The only solution is one of us dying," Kyle said with a frown, determinant on finding cartman.

"Dude!?," the latter responded with a brow raised and his arms raised in 'wtf', "dude I don't want to die! There's so much I want to do" looking at the ground thinking about the thousands of board games he hasn't played yet.

"Yeah, me neither!," exclaimed, Tobias.

Kenny remained silent staring at the red head.

"No one has to die, but me," Kyle spoke, he lowered his gaze. He knew it was risky, "I'm offering myself to do it," but it was worth the shot.

"Kyle that's the most crazy shit I've ever heard you say!."

"It's the only way! Nothing else has worked!."

"No, I'll do it."

The three boys turned their head towards Kenny. He had a frown and he seemed to not fear losing anything. Cause he wouldn't.

Kenny had already tried getting back into hell, dying various times to see if he could find Cartman but for some reason he hasn't been able to get a hold of the underground world. Waking back to life the next day. As in some sorta temporary limbo.

"That's okay, Kenny," Kyle reassured with a smile," I know you have your siblings to care of.. and well, I know Ike would have my mom and dad to take care of him, just in case I don't come back."

"Kyle, I'll do it. Eric is my best friend after all," Kyle's words was heartwarming but he wasn't gonna risk losing another friend.

Kyle frown reconsidering it. He then proceeded to nod.

They had left the Marsh residence as they wanted to be as far as possible from any witnesses, they went inside the weed 'garden'.

They found a solid ground far away from the farm. Atleast enough for a bullet to not be able to hear from a distance.

They got into a circle and Kenny stood in middle of the three.

He took the gun out, and pulled the trigger with not even a second thought. But there was nothing, just a small click everytime he pulled the trigger.

"What the fuck?," the blond asked confused looking up at Kyle.

"Sorry, Kenny I couldn't let you do that," his friend stated before pulling out a gun out of his jacket and pointed at his head 'that crazy son of a bitch' Kenny thought eyes wide open in panic, "here goes nothing," 'BANG' was all he heard before hearing the other two boys scream.

"Kyle no!," Stan shouted with his hands gripped into his head staring at his now dead friend, his face covered in Kyle's blood, "Jesus christ!!."

"Holy fuck," the brunette boy said horrified, "you guys are crazy! I no longer want to be part of this stupid group!," he screamed horrified before dashing away no longer looking back.

[...]

"¡AHHH!," Kyle found himself screaming while falling straight into what it seems to be lava. He looked upwards meeting with a pair of people staring at him. Is he really in hell right now? Fuck, he needed to start behaving once he's back in south park. He got up and managed to get out of the pit with ease.

He looked around, people forming circles partying here and there. There was lights everywhere even though it was pretty much lit already. Stores, buildings even food stands. 'No wonder that fat fuck didn't complain about being hungry' he thought to himself. Hell didn't seem bad at all! Well with the exception of the public torture displayed in front of him, he didn't seemed to mind it as much as he felt he should. What the literal hell?

He went to what appeared to be a big wooden cartel for new hell residents with the instructions on how to get back in their feet and their new purposes and do's, 'fuck that', he went where there was a map with all the locations needed to know. Also, pamphlets. He picked one and opened it. He recall Cartman mentioning a hotel called 'jak n off' and pursued following the directions given.

He then stood in front of a yellow building.

Okay, first instruction checked. Now, room fifth of the ground floor. But he stopped before doing any further action. He recalled his friend claiming there was someone with him 'what if they're still there?' He thought before considering a different approach.

Meanwhile...

"Holy shit, Kenny! What do we do!?," Stan said in panic, gesturing the other boy's dead body.

"Okay, Stan. Just listen carefully," the blonde had his right hand as a 'stop' gesturing to calm down.

He saw his friend breathing heavily, closing his eyes trying to regulate his heartbeat and breathing.

'he's just a crazy as Cartman!' That realization made the boy's eyes widen, "Holy shit," He spoke, now gripping into Kenny shoulders while the other boy flinched by the sudden action, "that was just as crazy level as Cartman!," he exclaimed his concerns.

Kenny loosen up from the grip before picking Kyle's body from head to shoulder. He gesture with his head for the other boy to help him with the other half.

Stan hesitated a bit but followed through.

"Fuck."

[...]

"Hmhm hmm!," Jack nodded repeatedly when he had finished re-dressing his off spring. He had bought him a little business suite the other day but had found this time appropriate to give.

The boy had refused and complained when the man attempted to take his clothes off but then failed immediately from his strength. 'Something beneficial from being a Denver bronco' he thought. He proceeded to submit.

Once back tied in the chair, his father turned him around being front of a large mirror.

'Ofcourse he was handsome' but he did not like being force to do things against his own will.

"Eric Tenorman," the man spoke with pride, "doesn't that just sound right?."

Eric gulped. He hated that name.

"Look at you, looking like a professional business man already!," he beamed again, "I'll be right back I'm gonna go fetch some wine."

"When are you planning to untie me!?," the boy wince when he saw a spider slowly going down on him.

A laugh as it were a joke was made, "oh, Eric," he then walked out.

None long after he had heard a loud 'thump' from behind him, he looked instead in the mirror and his eyes widen of excitement.

"Kahal!"

"Cartman?," the boy asked while standing up, he had fallen down from the cushions, ass straight to the ground, "Holy shit, dude! You alright?," he asked approaching him, he proceeded to untie the boy.

Kyle looked around a bit and proceeded to look at the boy that was stretching his back. He heard some cracking and popping.

'He looked like shit'

"We have to get outta here!," Cartman said before dragging Kyle from hand to hand outta the dark room. He was grateful he manage to see how his father summoned a door. But he stopped returning to the safe and grabbing the book and papers that were in there, once again gripping onto Kyle's hands dragging him out.

Once they were safe. They had ran out of the building, running towards the entrance of hell through the amount of new people that had arrived, and found themselves hidden behind 'Sussie's Buttocks' club.

Cartman sigh and Kyle just watched him with a frown brow.

With out further warning Cartman hugged the boy tight leaving Kyle speechless tensing his shoulders and his hands were up in the air unable to figure out if to correspond or just let the boy finish. He decided the second option.

"Thank you, Kyle! You came! I can't believe it!."

The boy loosen up the tension he had felt on his shoulders and just kept silent, letting his arch rival embrace him with his warmth. He could feel Cartman's rapid heart beat.

"Just so you know, I'm just here cause I couldn't stand your replacement," he said finally getting out of the boy's grip.

"Ay! You guys replace me already!?," Cartman protested angry while pouting.

The ginger smirked. With out realizing he felt himself hugging the boy tight. 'Fuck, he actually missed him', he buried his head under Cartman's shoulders as he felt him tense.

Kyle then let go, gazing at Cartman who had his eyes widen and the most heated red cheeks, mouth agape 'he looked gay' he thought. The boy then proceeded to lean towards him causing Cartman to panic as he weakly slapped him backwards snapping him out to his senses.

"Okay so who are we hiding from?," the red head spoke while he dust off the dirt on his jacket.

"Jack Tenorman."

Kyle's attention back to Cartman, in shock, "your dad?."

He nodded before vomiting. Everthing was all so overwhelming. Everthing his father revealed, his great grandfather and how home sick he felt, how much he missed his friends and mom. His insides twisted as he felt shivers all over him.

He made sure to point at Kyle's seamlessly new shoes though

"Ow gross, dude!."

[...]

Kenny found himself desperately wanting to go to hell but no matter how much he tried, he just couldn't. As if there were something blocking him by going.

He sigh, legs crossed next to Kyle's rotten body, flies piling up around him. He and Stan had hid themselves in Randy's shed. They weren't certain if to burry him or not so they toss him in there while both took turns checking outside for any future witnesses which they failed miserably because Stan's dad had went for a quick smoke hidding from Sharon, and looked at them, glancing at both boys before looking at Kyle 'ohhh' he murmured, both brows were raised before closing the door slowly, leaving.

Kenny then took out the ouija board and place it in the ground. Might aswell try to contact Kyle.

"Any luck?," Stan asked wincing from the smell that was coming out of his best friend.

"No," Kenny tried cutting some more blood out of his wrist, carefully not making the wound any deeper. They needed a living mortal's blood to be able to contact the dead.

"Do you think he went to heaven?."

"Nah, man. You really think one of us will end up there after the amount of shit we've down?," he had went to heaven before but it was a one time thing, after he started simply caring less about his deaths he became bolder and is no longer admitted into heaven.

Besides he recalled Kyle unintentionally killing a bunch of Canadians that was enough reason to be sent to hell.

"Good point."

Cartman and Kyle found themselves looking through rituals and plans, they inspected the book while Kyle flipped through pages then stopped pointing at one.

"Here 'lay the one and only chosen one for the path to open, a bright light as blindfold being turned to one'," then continued reading the next paragraph, " 'the second gripped to life, will become sacrifice to give light as they are two'."

"What's that supposed to mean?."

"As they are two.." Kyle reread trying to add sense to what was written, brows knitted together, "that's it," He said looking at the drawings of two men one represented death, the other life. While life was seen switching places with death.

He flipped through the rest of the pages reading new paragraphs and prophecies.

'Misplace the two bounded souls and fear it's wrath between worlds, as they are one'

'Life and death which are shown to be bounded by a soul'

'Death is life, life is death, a curse forming in between them as the new bounded soul is created'

He flipped through the next page and eyes widen. It was a drawing of Kenny and Cartman. 'Holy shit'

"Did you find anything?," Cartman asked while laying down on his stomach, making paper airplanes with the loose pages that were spread on the floor as he had gotten bored.

"Well, there you are my special little boy."

Both boys gasped turning around while they got up, Kyle having gripped the book on his chest. He walked backwards placing an arm on Cartman backing away slowly shielding him

'Cartman was our way out' he told himself, justifying his actions as if it were the first time he found himself protecting the fat fuck. Which it wasn't.

Jack stood there with his arms crossed behind his back, grinning eyeing the book then looking back at Kyle.

"I see you brought a friend to play, Eric," he took a pistol out from the inside of his suite pocket.

Both dashed outta there running through the multiple people that were all formed in circles. Hearing Tenorman shout from a far 'Ay! come back here!'

'Like father like son'.

Kyle panted hardly while trying to grasp some air, Cartman was knocked out cold on the floor. Hopefully they were far enough from Tenorman.

A buzzing feeling in his ear caught his attention, he held it because of the intense pain it did as if that were gonna stop it. Blood trailing down his cheek he looked at the hand he had held himself with 'my ear is bleeding'.

"Kyle?," the boy in question jolted.

"Kenny!?"

"Dude finally! We were worried sick for you!."

"Is he there? Kyle? Are you there!? You crazy piece of shit! Jesus christ!," Stan chimed in," are you alright? Did you find Cartman?."

"Yeah, he's right here," he looked at the boy that was now trying to stand up. He offered a hand while the boy reached out and was pull up to his feet again. He looked tired, uncharacteristically tired. It gave Kyle an uneasy feeling as he remembered what he had read 'Misplace the two bounded souls and fear it's wrath between worlds, as they are one' he assumed Cartman may be 'life'.

"Okay cool, have you guys find a way out?."

"Is that the hippie?," Cartman asked finally paying attention to the buzzy feeling of his own ears.

"Yeah.." Kyle whispered more to himself than to anyone else, "Kenny?"

"Yeah? I'm here dude."

"Look this is gonna sound crazy but,"

'Bang'

"¡AAH!," Kyle looked at Cartman who had screamed in horror, then looked at his now wounded chest half lifted eyes before feeling his legs weakened.

'Fuck' was the only thing that came out before knocking out on the floor.

'Kyle!?'

'Kyle!?'

'Kyle!'

The boy slowly felt himself waking up by the sound of Stan's voice rumbling in his ears. He grunted, feeling sharp pains in his chest were he was previously shot, but managed to stand up.

He looked at his hands an feet, then his chest. It seemed to have healed as if it never happened 'had he dreamt it?' He looked around and found himself in the entrance of hell once more. Cartman was no longer at sight.

"Fuck," he frown 'this was being dragged too much', "Kenny, are you there?."

"Yeah man, what happened? We lost you for like an hour!."

"An hour? Holy shit.. okay, Kenny. I'm not crazy but I think you're 'death'."

"What."

"Yeah. I have a satanic looking book on me that has you drawn in here stating that you're bound into a soul."

"W-what?.."

"Yeah.. as crazy as it sounds but you're bonded. Not only are you bounded but to Cartman of all people."

"What!?," he heard both friends shout in unison.

"Look I don't know much for sure, but that's what I've gotten from what's written here. It says we need both of you to be able to get out."

"But how? I'm not allowed in hell."

"What?," he found himself confused by that comment but shrugged it off, "look 'the chosen soul must be into one of understanding to open a door through life and death' i- I honestly got lost by that point," Kyle admitted nodding to himself.

" 'The chosen soul must be into one of understanding to open a door through life and death..'," Kenny found himself repeating the words. He frowned.

Cartman and him were bounded.. but how? But why? Life and death. If he was death that makes Cartman life. Which having him in the underworld makes it not possible to be 'life'.

Death.. death is life. Which would makes sense if he were to die and revive.

Would that mean switching places with Cartman? As he found himself in life and he in death. All this is messing up his mind.

Would that mean what's been blocking him from both heaven and hell and keeping him in a sorta limbo state is because he's slowly becoming life? And Cartman..

'fuck'

"Kenny?," Stan's voice snapped him back.

"We need to find a way to bring Cartman back and quick!."

The chubby boy felt his body weakened while he was carried by his father. He had taken him to the rooftop of the building he owned while gripping tight with steel chains his wrists and legs into some torture table he had put there.

Half lifted eyes stared to the ground. He felt like shit.

His father stood there with clasped hands eyeing him everywhere as he was some golden trophy, as he were just waiting for something. But he couldn't grasp what it was.

"Did I ever mentioned you that Liane was part of a cult?," spoke Jack.

Cartman just kept silent as he began coughing badly.

The grown man walked towards him taking out a tissue from his pocket cleaning some of the trail blood he had cough out 'the fuck!?'

"When I first met your mother it wasn't at some stupid party your town folks had told you about. I met her in a cult meeting. I was young and was told they will be free booze," He reveal while fixing the boys now untied tie, "we felt attraction immediately and bonded over the fact that we were both there for booze, laugh it off and things just lead to an other," continued while shrugging.

Cartman found himself feeling his muscles spasm.

"I'm the good guy Eric! I would've never asked for this to have happen to you if I knew," he then place his hand onto his chest as an innocent demeanor, "your mother is to blame."

"The thing is, unlike me, Liane ended up getting too into the cult meeting and had unintentionally set herself up with two other soon to be parents, she had dragged me in, unaware of what would happened. She found it silly and fun and I found it a little creepy but followed through cause I was just too wasted to care about the odd rituals the other members were putting us in 'everthing for a piece of that' I kept telling myself."

The boy cut him off he began to have various seizures that lasted for up to three seconds before repeating itself, he felt his mouth grasping for air and being choked by his own saliva. His fingers twitched and his feet curled.

"And then, months after, you were born," unfazed the man wiped the saliva off his cheeks, "ofcourse by the time you were born I had no longer any contact with Liane and that so called meeting became a fuzzy memory for me."

"But, Eric," he approached the boy, face to face, "this, it's life changing," the boy heard while still trying to grasp for air, his vision long gone as it became blurry.

"Imagine, a Tenorman being able to switch in between worlds! Being able to use this curse and becoming one of the most powerful beings on both worlds," He ranted for himself, with every word being said his eyes dilated. Malicious, greed, selfishness surfacing, "not being able to die! HaHA! We'd be unstoppable!."

'Bang'

Tenorman fell into the floor.

Kyle then reloaded his shotgun while two other boys stood next to him.

"Stan help me with Cartman!," Kenny order running towards the almost unconscious boy. Stan nodded following.

They had manage to summon Satan while being in the upper world. Luckily Satan owed Stan a favor and it was just all convenient.

They managed to release Cartman by pressing a button that was place under the table with the label 'release' on it.

Kenny held the boy who convulsions worsened.

"Eric can you hear me?."

"K-kinny? Dammit kinny! Get out my death sequence," the boy complained even though his eyes looked elsewhere.

"You're not gonna die fat boy! You're already in hell."

"Oh, right," His body stiffened trying his best to take control but failed miserably once more, "how's it going?."

The comment made the blonde boy cracked a smile, "look Eric," he gently caress cartman's hair.

'That's gay' he heard the boy remark but ignored it.

"It'll be hard to believe this.. but I die," Kenny revealed, "like all the time," he sigh, feeling the glances of his other two friends on him.

"I know."

Kenny's eyes widen, "no, like I mean it, I die all the time!."

"I know," his chubby friend frown feeling stupid by hearing his best friend seemingly finding it hard for him to remember the obvious. And because of the condition he's in 'duh' he didn't feel like arguing, "I can tell you death by death, each and single one with detail and date."

Kenny was left with his mouth opened, speechless, he couldn't believe it. 'Is he really telling the truth or is he fucking with me?' All this time he's been looking for someone atleast one person that could remember. And he was there all along infront of him, someone he least expected.

"And you didn't bother on telling me!?," Kenny said angry, he felt his eyes water.

Cartman twitch in his arms, "nobody seemed to mentioned anything, and you never asked. I figured it may have been a bad dream or not as important cause nobody seem to believe me the few times I did mention it, they all looked at me weird as it I we're delusional," the boy admitted.

Now that he thought about it. The times he has admitted to someone about his curse, Cartman was never present. Which meant he had never given the opportunity to answer him. And when he mentioned it he was either dead or not around to tell.

Like if it were intentional for both boys to not be able to share this moment until now.

"You know what's messed up?," cartman's voice snapped him back, he had a weak smile plastered, "I began to be so use to it, it was easy to use your deaths. Like the time you were in the death bed or the time I had convinced everyone it would be best to disconnect you to have your psp, or being able to better my vision stealing one of your eyes, I knew you'd come back, you always did."

Kenny's eyes sparked in amusement 'he really did remember'.

"But the first few times.. kinny they were horrifying, I still feel uneasy but it isn't as before," his body twitch some more while he complained about the pain in his arms and legs, "I remember the rats eating your flesh, I remember trying to shoo them away cause you still weren't dead."

Kenny watched his friend with such warmth as if it were a cute tale he was retelling.

"The time Kyle killed you with a chainsaw," 'I what?' They heard their ginger friend asked confused but ignored it, "being killed by a bull, eaten by some pterodactyl, by oral sex, squished, run over," the boy shaked, the pain decreasing the more closer he got to kenny. On the other hand kenny was feeling immense warmth in his chest, like literal fire. 'Hell, It's really burning!'

Kenny remembered always being close in a certain way with Cartman, they even were once trapped together by his soul because the stupid idiot had eaten his ashes.

He glance down at Cartman who had let his head fall into his lap, smiling. 'This was kinda gay' he thought.

He felt the boy latching on to him, and he won't deny he felt the sudden urge to do the same which he unintentionally did. The burning sensation in his chest increased the pain, becoming unbearable 'fuuuuuck!'

On the other hand Cartman never felt more peaceful in Kenny's arms, he felt like he was in the clouds and couldn't recall why the sensation just felt like he was falling but there was no fear of an impact just comfort with in the clouds and sky.

Stan and Kyle didn't bare interrupt the two boys as they knew it was needed to get out and Kenny knew how to do it but they couldn't help feeling a little discomfort as this felt intimate and private. Atleast for Stan it wasn't displeasing just disturbing while with Kyle it was the opposite. He found the boys sudden closeness displeasing he just didn't know why.

Sudden the back door sling open reveling Jack. Kyle prepared his gun and pointed at him making him stop in his tracks.

"You guys don't know what're you're doing! Fuck, ¡no!," He exclaimed once he saw Kenny holding on to Cartman and vice-versa. He knew there was no longer takes back as their ritual bound was already in the stages of ending.

The two boys burst into flames seemingly showing no response to it. Atleast from Cartman's part, internally for Kenny it was a pain in the ass but he didn't show it. Sweat begin to pop up in his skin and his nails digged up in Cartman's suit, wincing his eyes shut.

Their silloette formed a door which proceeded to opened.

"Dude! I think it's the portal!," Stan exclaimed getting near it, while Kyle shot Tenorman in the head once more before following Stan. Not after glancing at Kenny and Cartman before jumping through the portal.

Cartman then layyed down flat finally letting go of Kenny. The blonde watched him while he started twisting in pain 'this is it' he then looked at Cartman, suddenly understanding before proceeding to enter the portal, finally vanishing.

Kenny sigh as he turned into ashes finally dying.

[...]

"Morning dudes," Kenny salute, beaming. He was in a good mood after all.

"Sup Kenny," Stan greeted.

"Hey Kenny," Kyle added.

"Cartman hasn't arrived yet?."

"That fat fuck probably forgot to turn his alarm on," the red head spoke with a yawn.

"Or, he did set an alarm but ignored it," Stan added.

"Either sound possible."

Not long after Cartman got on the bus greeting them.

"Hey dipshits!," he proceeded to take a seat next to Kenny who grinned at him, "so how you guys dealing after the hell incident?," he asked.

Stan and Kyle just raised a brow confused.

"What're you talking about, fatass?," Kyle then added while frowning not wanting to deal with Cartman's shit again this early in the morning.

"Yeah, dude, you alright?," Stan chimed in.

Kenny stared at Cartman still beaming while he saw the bigger boy's face turned in disbelief.

"Dude! I literally died a horrible death not long ago! Remember? Hell!? Kyle you literally went to save me!," he screamed.

"Did he also came in a shining armor?," Stan teased while both best friends, then, howl in laughter.

Cartman pouted bitterly. Kenny put a hand on his shoulder understanding well enough the feeling. The boy glance at him.

"Welcome to the club," he smiled.

Cartman looked up at the two boys infront of him that still found themselves laughing then looked at Kenny, smiling back.

"This sucks ass."

They both chuckled.

[...]

Kyle found himself approaching Cartman while they were entering the school entrance.

"Hey, fatass."

"What up," the fat boy answered while he took out his phone.

"About me saving you did I also bring a sword?," he bite his upper lip before bursting into laughter.

"Ha ha very funny Kahal," the boy said bitterly, "actually not only did you showed up in a shining armor, a sword, but you also kissed me on the lips as I was the damsel in distress." honestly was not the best combat but it was the first thing that came into spot. He wasn't planning to let Kyle have the last word after feeling still bitter about the red head not recalling the previous events.

Kyle was left baffled by that. For some reason Cartman's stupidity was beyond compression but the mystical accusation left him speechless.

Cartman had already proceeded on leaving to class but Kyle just stood there blank hearing a small noise in his ears that kinda sounded like 'hootie and the blowfish'.

In class Kenny had both his hands clenched, excited. He never felt more happy knowing someone does remember! Not only that, but the bound ritual just made their bound strengthen, as he watched Cartman knowing the other boy felt the same. He knew the feelings were true cause he felt it, they both felt each other when their soul united once more 'as gay as that sounds'. Cartman looked back at him sharing that same beaming felling before returning to bother Wendy interrupting her speech with slurs an unwanted opinions.

He always felt alone knowing no one remember him dying, an as much as he had his moments despising Cartman there was now this warmth comforting feeling that someone other than him knew, even if it were a bigot like Cartman. It's not like he could complain much after all, they will be forever bounded by a soul so there's no preventing being connected to one an other.

But he'd care less, he wasn't alone no more.

He smiled once again, he's been feeling all giggly all morning, he just couldn't help it. He was happy and today was just a nice super fantastic day.

School had ended as the bell rang.

The four boys walked with each other discussing what they'll do this evening as a squad.

"What about boar-"

"Stan, I swear to God if you say 'board games' once more I'll kill myself," Cartman interrupted by grunting.

Stan frowned.

"No offense dude, but Cartman's right. We've been playing boards games three times in a row for weeks," Kyle chimed in.

Kenny nodded. He knew Stan had developed a new obsession with board games when he moved to the farm and starting hanging out with Tolkien, which we didn't seem to mind much, but it had gotten boring being repeated multiple times everytime they hang out.

"What about cards?," the blonde suggested.

"Same shit," Cartman rolled his eyes with that.

Is that 'hootie and the blowfish' they began hearing in the background?

"Does anyone hear that?," Stan asked looking around.

"No," Kyle quickly stated.

"Anyways, what about basketball?," Cartman suggested while putting his attention on the others, his hands gripped on to his waist.

"You know what? That doesn't sound like a bad idea Cartman," Stan agreed while turning his focus onto Kyle who seemed kinda spaced out.

"Hm?," the boy said before barfing on Cartman.

'BLEEEEARGH!'

"Ah! Gross dude! Wtf Kahl!?," he wince disgusted wiping off the barf from his jacket, "disgusting!," he kept complaining.

"Sorry!."

"Woah dude," Stan exclaimed.

"I think breakfast didn't do me too well," the boy explained while rubbing his stomach, nauseous.

"Fuck you! You're so fucking disgusting!," Cartman kept rambling angry while walking off, seemingly going home, "ew! Screw you guys I'm going home."

"Sorry, Cartman!," Kyle apologized once more before returning his attention to the others, "so is basketball still on the list?."

"Hell yeah."

Cartman not long after joined the other three with a new jacket staying farther away from Kyle claiming that he didn't want the ginger to barf on him again which the boy rolled his eyes from and Stan calling him out a 'pussy' while continuing playing the game.

It was a nice evening with the four boys peacefully enjoying their company as everthing had turned back to normal.

[ginasthoughtdump]

Addiction, therapy, future, mental illness, bad social constructing, and the huge danger of boredom

These questions keep coming up in my head and I haven't done a brain dump on these specific thoughts to get them out, so here we go:

1. Are people addicted to drugs because the chemicals have addicting attributes of is it more than that?

2. Are there better alternatives to therapy and why do we think the current models work?

3. Is mental illness genetic or the life experiences you encounter through living?

4. Do we give enough concern to the problem of "boredom" and it's correlation to depression?

5. Are the people designing our new social world really qualified to do so and what adverse effects are the results of these design?

A study that was done in 1978 tested the addiction to morphine in rats that I think is highly relevant today. Now there we plenty of other studies before that showed rats would prefer morphine water over plain water and that it was addicting and blah blah blah. The difference here is Alexander made a rat park, basically Disneyland for rats. When this alternative was introduced the rats, who are social creatures like us, took the regular water over ol' bama water( Alabama has the highest opioid use in the country). The idea being that if you give rats and therefore humans rewarding alternatives, you have less drug use.

(study) https://www.summitbehavioralhealth.com/…/overview-rat-park…/

I was talking with my kid who knows people who have addiction issues as many of us do now considering it will only be a matter of time before we all have a loved one in the same boat. One thing she noticed was that the people she knew that were home-schooled all seemed to jump right into every drug known to man once they got to the real world. She thought it was because they were deprived from the experiences of interaction and then kind of went loose with all the sensory enhancing once they got a chance. This is kind of what is happening in rural areas everywhere. Most addicts when interviewed in these small towns will tell you there is literally nothing to do here besides drugs. Of course there is no real job opportunity, no future of that changing, and it doesn't help that Big Pharma has just been allowed to send pallets of dangerous drugs to cities without any oversight. (Link) https://www.vox.com/…/opioid-epidemic-painkillers-west-virg…

Two things interest me in this information. One is that you could probably see a map of the issues with Opioids and where places have dick all to do, Buckeye ring a bell? Apache Junction isn't known for its parks people.

The other is this conservative idea that the decline of western society is in divorce, the liberal agenda, and not wanting to have this nuclear family model from the 60s. The way they combat this is by homeschooling their kids to hide them from influence and liberal programming. The problem is the result of this is drug addiction is ramping up more kills than Mortal Kombat.

The bible belt is hit very hard by drugs, my kid pointed out some terrible success rates with the rates of the kids she knows that were raised in home school christian settings and their battle with drugs. One example is two brothers both dying from alcohol excess, one a complete shut in with a heroin problem, the other who just slammed a bottle of fireball after heart surgery due to the effects. Overall it was 8 out of 10. The ones that joined the military seemed to avoid the issue the rest were swept away.

So the question is how dangerous is boredom? How dangerous is not having prospects of a future? I think the rat park is an example of idle hands make devil's work. We know that parents that get their kids into extracurricular activities have better outcomes but considering that most poor areas don't have the option of one job, and purchasing soccer outfits for kids, this may be a luxury of the rich. Rehab is a pipe dream for most poor people as well. Job opportunity and college plans is also a luxury of the affluent as much as the model of one parent working per household. So how do you combat and epidemic that poor people cant fix without an economic plan to shift poor and bored to middle class and working? Not by cutting funding but that is another debate. There is a finding that shows poverty is linked to mental health issues as well which makes perfect sense and the ramifications on addiction fall perfectly in line with that sense. (link) https://www.npr.org/sections/goatsandsoda/2016/10/30/499777541/can-poverty-lead-to-mental-illness

So how do you combat the addiction we now know exists? This idea of habit forming is true and dangerous if you don't respect it but do you heal the mind or do you fix it chemically? Some people have been going to extremes in the psychedelic frontier but I think they're missing something in some areas and completely bullshit in others. Where does the mental illness reside? Some think it is in your DNA. Others believe that is its a genetic trigger, like you are born with the genetic disposition but if certain events happen then the genes change. One example is how you can be predestined to develop breast cancer but it never triggers. Another is a linking between smoking at an early age can cause your child to be overweight. One other study was done on the MAOA, the warrior gene, or psychopath gene to some. The study showed that if certain environmental factors did not happen the gene would not trigger and the person would not be more impulsive of violence. (link) https://www.psychologytoday.com/…/evol…/201410/gene-violence

So how do you go about fixing yourself? Reset the brain with mushrooms? Do some therapy while on ecstasy? Microdosing LSD? Go on a Ayahuasca retreat? Take some electric volts to the brain? How bout regular therapy or counseling? I think you first got to find out one thing. Is your mental disorder something you are born with or something you were wired with through environment?

I tend to think it is the latter and here is my evidence. PTSD is a good example of something that was triggered through an event. Now some could say you were predisposed to be effected more so than someone else but they cant deny when it changed from dormant to affecting the individual. Another is the way they treat Schizophrenic behaviors with electric shock. They could literally wipe your brain of the existence of the disorder if you didnt mind losing your memory. This is a very good documentary on the subject of Bi-Polar but I want to note 2 things here. Most people dont just have one disorder, a ton have PTSD and considering they didnt look like vets I can assume their childhood was one of nightmares. The other is the woman who didnt want to lose her memory for the cure. Memory is paramount in these disorders even if you make a case for genetic predisposition you would also have to admit that environment plays a huge role in all these and in some it is seems like it is 100% that. (link) https://youtu.be/eyiZfzbgaW4

I believe the big reason why therapy works is because you play out the trauma over and over and talk about the terrible things you endured to someone. This could be a friend that doesn't mind hearing the story over and over or a therapist. I think the addition of medication is scary but as a stop gap I can see this as a necessity in a small timeline but there are a ton of adverse effects that are dangerous if going unchecked. Most mass shooters were on some anti depressants or adhd meds. This is why the holistic view garners some respect if used in logical ways and for a short time as well. Case in point is that you cant overdose on marijuana. So holistic does trump pharmaceutical if you cant die from it or the side effects of a pill meant to help you be happy makes you want to harm yourself and others. PTSD effected military folks have been swept under the rug by subscribing them some meds and sending them on their way. This is not being monitored by therapists but by doctors who get kick backs from the industry that benefits solely on people using more and more of their drugs. As you can see, business is good. (pic) https://margaretfarenger.files.wordpress.com/…/rates-of-pre…

This is an example of re-enacting trauma in a light way can repair the mind, this is similar to continuous telling of the story of your trauma. There are more elaborate studies that help people cope by recreating high quality versions of the trauma over and over till the brain can cope: (link) http://www.latimes.com/…/la-ss-morningside-can-paintball-he…

Now I think most people go to far on the merits of psychedelics and definitely on the catch all uses of marijuana. There are cases where it helps and the evidence in seizures is proof in the pudding. The over exaggeration of its effectiveness on cancer when its anti inflammatory effects are equal to you using tumeric or eating blue berries. Now I do think that if you were to take some ecstasy and focus on therapy, either talking about trauma or working out relationship issues, the different perspective and openness could make what would have been a toxic conversation one that is more easy to cope with. They have shown similar success with drugs like Ketamine and huge effects with mushrooms.

Now if you were to take ecstasy and sit there and talk about a bunch of bullshit like music or how could a mouse have a dog for a pet in Disney films, you are not getting shit out of the experience. The same could be applied to doing a bunch of psychedelics and going to burning man, what would you really learn from that? Intentions matter is all im saying. Other drugs like Ayahuasca and mushrooms have a different effect but the results on heroin addicts cannot be ignored. This isnt because you became one with the universe but the effects that brain wiring has on your life. If you were raised in a household where love meant violence and calm could be interrupted by chaos in any moment, you would have some fucked up wiring. It would effect the relationships you choose and the friends you can keep. There are ways to rewire the brain with actions. This is where therapy comes into play again. Someone telling you that what you think is boring is boring because your wiring needs enough positive links to love and relationships before it is wired to normal. The same reason why habits are formed like drinking while gaming, or the need to workout once you missed a day. (link) http://bigthink.com/ex…/how-to-rewire-your-brain-for-success

These drug may have an effect of getting their sooner by escalating the progress and putting you in a frame of mind to take it in more. Now these effects are fleeting but with practice and focus on the therapy and not just watching a shit Dead cover band you may get there without the danger of mood altering drugs that can have terrible reactions.

So what about our current social mediums? Do they actually do what we need them to do? Many people have talked about the dangers of social media and the addiction to likes. Here is a study which ranks them on how bad each one sucks but I have an idea behind why. (link) https://www.forbes.com/…/…/2017/05/31/instagram-depression/…

Here is a study showing the uptick in stress issues as a whole: (link) https://youtu.be/vqevGkjuLW0

Now most of these can be contributed to the asshole in charge, health care(mental as well), and economic concerns. 30% showed concerns about trust in government as well. Overall, people are not mentally better than they were last year and there are plenty of studies that show stressed households or classrooms can have huge effects on learning and stress in general. Stress is deeply tied to your health in a biological way as well so it is cause for concern.

I don't want to get to far down the rabbit hole but I think it is because we have people who have no idea how to talk to people creating social media apps. We have people that have no idea on dating making dating apps. That these applications dont take into account what is best for the user but what is best for making money and in return programming people to behave in a way that makes the developers money and provides mild success in the results desired by the person.

For example, the interfaces are one indicator that no one cares how you think. No one needed a tile interface for Windows 8/10 but here we are. Games are designed for in app purchasing and are curbing gamers to be loot and grind hounds that keeps them playing an unrewarding experience for continued activity and not a desire for rewarding game play. FB does a few things right but there are no ways to actually meet real people compared to AOL chat rooms in the 90s where a ton of people found love. World Of Warcraft does a better job match making friends/lovers than the current offerings and the reason why that is could be attributed to the way the app makes its money. Snapchat rewards users by encouraging them to stay active and post often which in turns means more ad clicks etc. None of these reward the user in the ways they want, you get a few clicks but no fill for the loneliness.

Use FB,IG, SC, Tinder all you want but in the end you will be no better off than when you started since there is nothing gained. I can use it to dump my thoughts into the ether but I dont expect anyone to read it, and no reward will be given for the effort. It has its merits but they are few. FB is great for connecting to the family and friends you already know but rewards you by making meaningless fake friends with no geographical filtering. Friends without the actual benefits of being one. It is devoid of filtering to location, unlike Tinder. Tinder on the other hand is devoid of emotion, information, and compatibility. You are given enough to explain yourself in emoticons and maybe your dick size :) but all you did was find out of someone 5 miles away swiped right, which is usually done be default for people not wasting time. So you match and it is cool you are close but now you have to sift through all the fake matches and see if you are compatible by having shitty after shitty conversation with people too busy maintaining their social media presence to respect your time. Also beware of neckbeards and the crazies. Other sites like OKCupid have personality matching by asking questions, sounds cool until you realize you match with an 80 year old woman or man in Novia Scotia, too bad they didnt have age or location sorting. It is no wonder ghosting exist, that people have moved their respect of the fake meaningless friends that accrue on social media and it has bleed over to someone literally unswiping you in front of your face and not caring about a human they were intimate enough to reply with one sentence over a text.

Twitch(Also any live shows with chat) is an interesting case for me. People watching gamers play is a simplified term for what it really is. The parts, well some, missing in other applications. For example, FB should have geographical filtering so Tinder half asses it. FB should have ways to talk to others and socialize so another app will half ass the lack of it by creating something that almost gives you everything but not quite to keep you along. Twitch fills in the gap of chatrooms no longer existing but also plays to a need of the socially awkward in the guise of gaming. What it really is, is a sense of community without the need for working on your social interaction skills. This is what is lacking in the current apps, this is why men cant put together 3 sentences before they say "I hope you get raped" for being ignored. So they go into a chatroom while someone is gaming who is successful because they talk to the discontent and not because they are good at them. These people are the therapists, a way to belong while remaining awkward. They can have one sided conversations with other regulars but they can still have a connection with the streamer of vlogger who reads their comments and validates them.

You really do have to appreciate the gift of gab, especially when it pays to keep the fans relevant, if you watch the successful ones they are really good at stringing people along and keeping then engaged by responding, the game is secondary: (link) https://www.twitch.tv/directory/game/Fortnite

It is no wonder an asshole who couldnt keep friends failed at successfully making an application where people have the same effect. They are just not capable of it sometimes, and other times your mental health has nothing to do with profits so it takes a bad seat. Much like our democracy got in the way of paid ads during our presidential campaign, we wonder why we keep getting sicker and never understand that the tools we have at our fingertips have not helped us at all but have made us worse if we put any faith in them. While developers not listening to the users in an Office suite may effect productivity, and a developer not listening to a user on a game may effect entertainment. Social media applications can effect your life, your stress levels, your sleep, your job, your mental health. So we better make damn sure we take that into account when we keep looking to them for happiness when I know they can never bring it.

[attractionjapan]

Exploring the Shadow – “Dark Game”

I. The Left Hand and the Right

  In some ways, game as a whole is perceived as “taboo” by modern society.

  Besides fashion, grooming, wealth, and genetic looks, most people turn their nose up at any systematic and conscious attempt to hook up with more or higher quality women than one “should.” “It should happen naturally,” they say. “Be yourself,” they say.

  In this way, game will always be somewhat esoteric.

  Before I was interested in game, I studied psychology and actual esoteric religion. The Gnostic Gospels, the Dead Sea scrolls, the Yogas of Naropa, Aleister Crowley, Enochian magick… you name it. If someone didn’t want me to read it, I sought it out.

  Most of these esoteric or occult religious texts are extremely dangerous to the orthodoxy. Throughout history they are met with extreme prejudice (killing/hanging/stoning, witch hunts, ostracization, etc) or disbelief (conspiracy theories and assertions that magic isn’t “real” come to mind).

  Unsurprisingly, game shares much of the same reactions from mainstream society.

  Within religious thought, specifically esoteric religious thought, there are two “paths,” known as the Left-Hand Path (LHP) and the Right-Hand Path. Broadly speaking, they can be divided by dark vs. light (left-handedness being equated with the devil historically), occult vs. orthodox, and positive vs. “negative” (more on that later).

  The RHP essentially consists of asceticism (giving up or abstaining from excess and sensory pleasures, such as sex and drugs), devotion to purity and sanctity, and strict codes of behavior. Most major Abrahamic religions (Christianity, Islam, Judaism) fall into this category. Think – extreme guilt at sexual feelings, self-flagellation and discipline, punishment for falling into one’s “baser” self, etc.

Power in the right-hand path consists of suppressing the ego and emotions, restricting your baser desires, and becoming in tune with the world such that outside events do not affect you.

  In contrast, the LHP (as much as it is a unified body – which it isn’t) has been preoccupied with the exploration of the “taboo,” pushing things to their extremes or limits in order to attain ecstasy and dissolution of the self, through methods like trance, drugs, sex, and more. Tantra, hallucinogens, traditional or modern nature-, mother-, and cow-cults and religion, Hedonism, and Chogyam Trungpa – the ordained Tibetan Buddhist lama who did cocaine, drove sports cars, and held orgies – are all great examples of the LHP in action.

  Power in the left-hand path consists of channeling the ego and your emotions like a tool, embracing your baser desires and utilizing your will to affect the world as you please.

  So while game itself can be seen in some ways as “left-hand” from the perspective of general society, even within game itself, there exists both a left- and right-handed path.

  II. The Penumbra of Game

  Much time and attention is spent these days on self-improvement, becoming a well-rounded social guy, leaving women with positive experiences, and not being tossed around by your ego. This is all very important stuff to consider, and plays a huge role in helping guys fix their mindset and become successful with women.

  BUT

  (there’s always a but, isn’t there?)

  What about the things which don’t fit into this package of sunshine and joy? This neat little narrative of “let’s all be positive and grow together”?

  What about the fact that women like and enjoy very dominant men, even if those men don’t treat them particularly well (or even BECAUSE they don’t treat them particularly well)?

  What about the fact that some women serially date criminals, psychopaths, and guys who abuse them mentally and physically?

  What about guys who check their girlfriends’ phones and restrict them from going out to meet friends (quite common in Japan!)? Or when girls WANT you to be jealous and controlling. I value freedom and honesty, so it took me a long time to figure out that me telling the girl “You can do what you want… see other people if you want” was in many cases NOT what she wanted to hear?

  What about girls who routinely lie about their previous sex partners, whereabouts, plans, etc?

  What about the multitude of female manipulation and misdirection which takes place in the sexual marketplace?

  Now.

  Let me be absolutely crystal clear.

  I do not condone in any way psychologically manipulating people to do things that is not in their best interest/damaging to them, any sort of domestic violence or abuse, or anything of the like. These things are bad for a reason. If you know anyone who is abusing anyone else, you should report that person or do what you can to stop it.

  HOWEVER.

  There is a shadow region, between what is clearly evil and what is clearly good.

  There are ways to utilize your own emotions, like anger, rage, jealousy, etc. to achieve your goals (I know I certainly have in the past). For example, taking a recent breakup as fuel to push yourself extra hard in the gym and/or approach a ton of women.

  There are cases in which the right thing to do is not always what that person immediately wants. Imagine, for example, you have a child and they want dessert before dinner. Are you going to just give them everything they want? What about your drug addict friend who wants one more hit?

  What about in the club when some random bro comes up and tries to steal the chick you’ve met away from you? You can bet being all “laissez-faire” and unaffectedly happy is going to leave you girl-less (depending on the girl, of course). Guys with solid game will happily pull her away if you give them an inch of space.

  Ultimately, life isn’t super neat and trimmed. Not all negative emotions are necessarily weak or toxic. Some girls (especially the hottest!) respond very well to certain kinds of negative emotions, used correctly.

  Now don’t go out there yelling at girls and raging on them. 99% of the time, that’s weak behavior. But there is that 1%. Anger CAN be strength, but it need be channeled correctly.

  In the end, the left-hand path means exploring and destroying things which society (or even the “Game hegemony”) sees as sacred. If anything gets canonized and codified too strictly, it’s time to start considering where its flaws are.

  III. Chaos Game

  There’s an old Zen koan which goes,

  “If you meet the Buddha on the road, kill him.”

  The idea of a koan is to provide a sentence or question which is designed to inspire an entire mental and spiritual journey within the listener. It shouldn’t be answered too easily, and indeed, if it is, it’s likely not the right answer. The internal meditation sparked by the question is the point of the question, not the answer.

  You might recognize another, perhaps the most famous koan – “What is the sound of one hand clapping?”

  The student would head off, sit in meditation, and ponder the koan until he came to some answer. Gathering his bravery, he’d head back to the master, and present his findings. More often than not, he’d simply be whacked with a cane and told to meditate more, for that wasn’t the right answer.

  “One hand clapping? If the whole world is one united field of energy, who is there to experience it?” Whack.

  So back to our koan about killing the Buddha. Who would want to kill the Buddha? He is, after all, about as close to a god as the Buddhists come. Surely, we’d want to sit and listen to his teachings and soak up his wisdom, not kill him?

  One interpretation of this koan is that there should be no sacred cows – nothing so sacred and holy that it is beyond interpretation, beyond questioning.

  You could almost read this as a left-hand path koan, a little mental virus to needle doubt into the minds of the most devout literalists.

  And so too does it apply to game. This is one foundational cornerstone of Chaos Game.

  What exactly IS “Chaos Game?” What are its teachings?

  That, my friends, is a tale for another day.

  The post Exploring the Shadow – “Dark Game” appeared first on Attraction Japan.

from Attraction Japan http://attractionjapan.com/dark-game/