Disclaimer: I don't own South Park.

Rated M for language, violence, and possibly sex being had.

Author's Notes: This oneshot (possibly a twoshot or longer since I had even more fun with this universe than I'd originally anticipated) is the result of a combination of lack of sleep, a celebration of the new South Park season beginning, and a ridiculous conversation with my fellow FFN author theshadowswhisper, without whom this story wouldn't have been possible. Enjoy and review!

/

"DIVORCE!"

The word hung in the air even after its speaker had loudly slammed the front door on his way out. Divorce was a powerful word whose utterance made fifty-two percent of couples shudder. It forced unwanted memories of failed relationships to spring to the forefront of regretful minds, leading to many apologetic late-night drunken phone calls with exes on Valentines Day. The remaining forty-eight percent of supposedly happy couples hoped they'd never have to hear nor speak the word, lest their entire universe implode around them. In this case however, divorce was nothing more than an empty threat which made Wendy Testaburger yawn with disinterest. Now that things had settled down Wendy couldn't even remember how the fight had escalated to the point of Cartman threatening a divorce. Then again, how did a winning debate club celebratory screw in the backseat of her prius escalate into a marriage? They were a unique breed to be sure.

The fact was Cartman never followed through with his plans to leave Wendy, and she knew he never would. If he did, she'd hunt him down like a dog and drag him back to the house by his balls. Cartman knew as much, though he'd never admit it out loud, so in the end he always came home voluntarily. Wendy had the routine memorized by this point in their relationship. Eric would go to Butters Stotch's apartment, since Butters was the only friend willing to take Cartman in for the night. Cartman would blow off some steam by talking about what a huge bitch he had mistakenly married, then come home and eventually give Wendy make up sex that would be even louder than their original fight. She knew it was louder thanks to police reports filed by very displeased neighbors. They claimed to not like loud noises at two AM, but Cartman theorized they were simply just jealous that other people were getting laid. Thankfully Cartman and Wendy didn't have to deal with the unhappy neighbors for very long. Once Wendy and Cartman's daughter was born and began crying at random hours on top of the fighting and sex sounds, the neighbors had enough and put up a For Sale sign.

The baby was actually the subject of their latest fight. Specifically, the fact that each parent still referred to their daughter as "The Baby" despite her being two months old. Naming one's child was, like all newborn baby myths, supposed to be a magical event. It wasn't. It was Hell on earth. Eventually the child would start school. Have a first birthday party. Make friends who would ask her goddamn name. Those inevitable life events meant that as good parents they needed to have a name picked out as soon as possible. A respectable name that the other children couldn't easily make fun of. That much the parents agreed on, but it was also the only thing Wendy and Cartman agreed on. Not just when it came to their offspring, but in general. As Wendy nursed the unnamed Baby, she began counting the time until Cartman would eventually come home.

/

"So I said 'What's wrong with Erica?'. She refused to name it after me. The fuck? I'm the dad, aren't I?!"

Butters nodded politely; letting Eric ramble on. "Uh-huh." Butters poured himself and Cartman another round of tea. Butters didn't want to be rude by abandoning a friend in need, but he hoped the tea would knock Cartman out sooner than later. It was getting quite late and he'd heard about this same problem last month. And after Wendy had conceived. And after they learned it was a girl. And a month before the baby had been born.

"So then she says we should name it Hilary. Like I'm letting my daughter be named after a friggin' Clinton! Then Wendy says 'Oh so now she's your daughter.' and starts whining about morning sickness and breast feeding and pushing it out. I swear to God, I should've never married that bitch! I'm gonna leave, Butters. I swear bro. I'm gonna do it this time."

"Is that why you didn't pack anything when you came over here?"

Cartman glared at Butters for passive-aggressively questioning his resolve to stay away from his supposedly horrible wife. "I just have to go home first to get my shit! I wasn't planning to leave tonight! It's not my fault Wendy gets like this every month."

"Right, it's Eve's fault for eatin' that apple in the Garden of Eden. God got angry and made ladies vaginas bleed, and said they could only make seventy percent of what a man does in the workplace."

"That's right."

Butters hadn't actually learned his Biblical or world histories from Cartman, but he was familiar with Eric's theories on the world's major events. He couldn't un-learn Eric's theories no matter how hard he tried to. Mostly, the Jews were responsible for a lot of horrible things. Including the Holocaust, somehow. Butters nervously mashed his knuckles together as he pondered whether or not to make his next statement. "Eric, you-you realize you can't go calling her 'Baby' forever, right?"

"I won't have to. It's only a matter of time before Wendy caves on this."

"Well, I'm gettin' awfully worried your baby's first word is gonna be 'Bitch' if you two don't simmer down. I was thinkin' maybe I could babysit Baby for a while. You know, give you and Wendy some time to really sit down and think about the name. It must be real stressful trying to plan anything with a new kid around."

Cartman sipped his tea; considering the offer. "A babysitter? ...That'd be pretty kewl." What parent couldn't use one of those?

For that matter, what child of Cartman and Wendy didn't deserve a babysitter?

/

Butters softly sang a lullaby to the still-unnamed child while tucking Baby in for the evening. His version of "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" morphed into a bad karaoke of Chicago's "If You Leave Me Now", but Baby didn't seem to mind. The song was interrupted when, from the living room, Cartman and Wendy could be heard bickering once again. Something made of glass was audibly thrown at someone else's head. The glass broke; Butters wasn't sure about the fate of the head. The couple swore overtop of each other as if the loudest one in the room would automatically win the argument. Baby name suggestions blended in with increasingly colorful curse words. Butters cringed. Both his hands quickly shot out to cover Baby's virgin ears; hoping to keep the dirty words out of her future lexicon. The child giggled at Butters' hands on her ears. She touched his hands with her own. Played with them. Put Butters' fingers into her mouth, which meant he'd likely have a cold tomorrow, but Butters didn't interrupt Baby's fun even though it left her ears exposed to her parents' fighting.

"Bettybell is a mashup name of two of the most famous feminists of all time! If you read more you might know that! I don't want our child to have some normal, forgettable name! She needs to stand out in this world and grab attention as a proud female leader!"

Cartman nearly laughed himself into hysterics. "We are not naming our child after two ladies permanently on their periods, and my daughter is not gonna be some bra-burning feminazi. Fuck you, pick something else."

"Dawkins."

"No way! Wendy I'm seriously, you better stop with these shitty names or I'll tie your tubes myself just so you can't torture any more innocent children!"

"Then you pick something, you lazy fuck!"

"Fine! She'll be Poly!"

"No! Fuck you; we are not naming her after a doll! She is a person! Stop objectifying her!"

"Candy. You want a mashup name? There! It's Cartman and Wendy put together."

"Ugh! Really? You want to name our daughter 'Candy'? Christ, why don't we just buy her the stripper pole now!"

"Oh right because 'Baby' is much better!"

"That wouldn't be her name if your name suggestions didn't suck!"

"It's not my fault you want to name our kid after some British asshole!"

"Richard Dawkins is not British!"

"HE MAY AS WELL BE, CUNT!"

"DON'T CALL ME A CUNT, YOU ASSHOLE!"

"DON'T CALL ME AN ASSHOLE, YOU CUNT! Little Erica will NOT be named after some pretentious atheist douchebag, who was a GUY by the way!"

"WE ARE NOT NAMING OUR CHILD AFTER YOU! OVER MY DEAD GODDAMN BODY!"

"I CAN MAKE THAT HAPPEN!"

"THE HELL YOU CAN!"

A loud crash followed. The sound of a repetitious thwack momentarily concerned Butters, until he determined it wasn't punches being thrown. It sounded more like a pillow fight. Maybe foam padded weaponry being dueled with. Something soft enough to work out aggression with but not dangerous enough to cause injury. Likely suggested to them by a therapist, Butters thought. A therapist they'd probably retired before he'd 'cured' them. Then, there was nothing but moments of sweet, much-needed silence. Butters knew he couldn't have taken listening to much more of that. Now, he guessed, they were probably screwing. Or strangling each other. Or both. Butters was honestly unsure which scenario would be worse for him to walk in on.

He sighed. "Baby? I don't know about you, but I'm gettin' pretty sick of those two doing this." He tried desperately to drown out his own conscience. It was screaming at him louder than the married couple had been at each other to take some kind of action. It wasn't his place to get involved, he told himself. He was just the babysitter. Just Uncle Butters or whatever title they'd give him. He'd wait for Baby to fall asleep, and then leave out the backdoor so as not to get caught in the middle of Eric and Wendy. If he were, there was a chance Eric would insist on a ride to Butters' place and keep him up half the night complaining about the woman he'd just go back to again and again no matter what.

"Butters."

Baby's first word.

It made sense. She'd heard his name quite a bit over the past month. Wendy's polite "Thank you for watching Baby, Butters." at the end of every other night's babysitting service, to Cartman's less-than-polite "Fuck you, Butters." for seemingly no reason at all. In that time Butters had also grown quite attached to the anonymous girl. It was sad, really. Baby's first word had been "Butters", and her actual parents missed it due to in-fighting. Perhaps the name drop was coincidence. Perhaps it was fate. Perhaps divine intervention. Regardless, Butters accepted it as the sign he had been silently hoping to receive.

A sign to take some action.

/

Butters wrapped Baby in her favorite blue blanket. He stuffed as many of her toys as he could into his pockets, then grabbed an extra pillow case. With Baby held carefully in his arms, Butters crept down the hallway along the nearest wall. He reached the couple's bedroom. Thankfully, they weren't using it. That meant the fight and/or sex was continuing in the living room. Good, Butters thought. That meant he, and now Baby, could still escape out the back. Butters went into the couple's shared closet and grabbed one of Eric's coats, along with the knife he knew Cartman kept concealed in a compartment of his pajamas. Whether that was to protect himself against home invaders or against his own wife, Butters wasn't sure. Likewise, Wendy appeared to have a bullet-proof kevlar vest on the inside of her PJs. Perhaps those two really did deserve each other. Butters used the knife to poke holes in his pillow case, which he then dawned as a face mask. The large jacket acted as an oversized, extra warm coat for he and Baby against the winter cold outside. As he slipped out, Butters could hear the couple in the distance. He still wasn't sure if they were fighting or fucking. Butters realized too late that perhaps he should've taken Wendy's vest too, because those nutjobs were going to kill him when they found out Baby was missing.

/

"In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen."

The stained glass church windows were bright and noticeable even after hours. The prayer and associated hand motions Butters had easily performed from childhood memory. Using his finger, Butters carefully placed just a small drop of holy water from the church's fountain onto Baby's forehead. Now came the hard part. What was a good name for Baby? Butters was quickly beginning to understand why Wendy and Eric had tormented over this decision for the past year. Whatever name he picked was going to stick with Baby the rest of her life. It couldn't be decided flippantly. He also couldn't spend the next year fighting about it like her parents had. It had to be something pretty. Something happy. Something wonderful. Something that, when Butters heard it, he would light up like a Christmas tree and others would do the same. Butters rattled off a few names in his mind as he paced around Baby, but nothing gave him the warm fuzzies he'd planned to use as an indicator of a good name.

Love. Love was pretty and wonderful, and it made most everyone happier, better people once they had it in their lives. "Love" wasn't quite right for a newborn's name, but Butters was glad that he was at least getting warmer. What was something he loved? Sunshine? Rainbows? Kittens? The Denver Broncos? "No." Butters told himself out loud. "Come on Butters, you can do this!" he encouraged. "It has to be a lady's name. Something nice." Linda, after his mother? No. If Baby were going to be named after a family member it should logically be one of her own relatives who got the honor, and Butters knew that Wendy had long ago objected to Lianne due to Eric's mother's reputation around town. So who did Butters love besides the women in his family?

Lexus.

For better or worse, she was Butters' first love. And, like anyone's first love, she was unforgettable. The way she looked the first time he had seen her. The way she walked and talked. The way she smelled; like a mixture of over-sauced fried chicken wings and expensive scented perfume. The girl still to this day gave Butters butterflies and embarrassing erections without even trying. Not a day passed that he didn't wonder what she was doing, usually leading to unsuccessful Facebook stalking since Lexus didn't update her status often enough. Butters hoped for the best for the one he loved and would always love, no matter what. It was that type of sentiment, one that he knew Wendy and Cartman shared for Baby, which made Butters' decision clear.

"Lord? Uh, I hereby christen this baby, Lexi." There was only one Lexus in South Park. Butters knew that better than anyone. He'd checked records. 'Lexi' was close enough though, and that name was less likely to be voted down by Eric or Wendy. The Lexus name would have been, since she also had a reputation. One which Butters chose to believe was mostly lies and propaganda spread by bitter ex-boyfriends with small peckers.

/

Butters and the newly-named Lexi didn't even get the chance to make it home. While exiting the church a shadowy figure swooped down in front of them, blocking the path to Butters' car. Butters attempted to not let his fear show if only for the child's sake. He forced himself to stand firm and not shake, because again, that would've been bad for the baby. Butters squinted through the blackness, attempting to make out who or what was in his way.

"...Mysterion?"

The Mysterion outfit was still the same colors, but years of patrol had made the costume larger to support the well-toned frame of its inhabitant. There had also been a few significant modifications to the design. For one, the entire outfit was a proper, official latex material. The cowl now came with a built-in generic wig to help avoid clues as to Mysterion's true identity. Most South Park residents were already aware of who was behind the mask, but better safe than sorry. A bullet-proof vest behind the outfit's top protected vital organs, and the simple black belt from childhood had been traded in for a proper utility belt containing tools of self-defense, portable food when necessary, and first-aid materials. The olive green gloves were replaced by military tactile gloves. Mysterion had made sure they'd remained the original color. Lastly, Kenny's shoes were a more comfortable pair of Jordans. Sure they were expensive, but super heroes had to do a lot of running!

"You sick fuck." Mysterion criticized; his heroic voice as intentionally raspy as ever. "You're kidnapping children now, Chaos?!"

"No! Honest, I-I was just - Eric and Wendy needed a babysitter but they wouldn't stop fussing so I-"

Mysterion interrupted. "They're the ones after you. Don't expect me to believe they knew about this."

Butters gulped. "They are? Oh hamburgers I'm in for it now..."

"You want to tell me why there's a bounty on your head the size of Cartman's-" Mysterion eyed the baby and attempted to be more cautious of his language. "-Behind."

Butters' bottom lip quivered. His eyebrows knitted together. He glared toward Mysterion, but not at him. "I can't believe they're callin' people about me. Why, they've got some nerve! I've got half a mind to call child services on them! I've practically been raising Lexi here for a month because those two can't stop fighting!"

"So you believe she's yours. You want to take someone else's baby."

"No! I just wanted her to have a real name! They were callin' her 'Baby', Kenny." Butters frowned. "I just...had to do somethin'. I'm sorry I scared Eric and Wendy, but I had to do it this way. Why, if I asked they'd have said 'Shut up, Butters!' and just kept fighting like my parents do. Please, just let me get her home so they can stop worrying."

Mysterion eyed Butters up and down; searching for a tell that he was lying. Not finding one, his fists unclenched and shoulders relaxed. The use of Mysterion's real name also suggested that Butters wasn't in Professor Chaos mode for the moment. "It won't be that easy." Mysterion warned. "They put out a cash reward for your head and Baby's safe return."

"Oh Jesus. Is that why you're here?"

"I could care less about the money. I just know how it feels to want to protect your family. I'm here to get the baby back home and keep you from getting killed."

"Why? Who else is after me?"

The question was answered for him when a nearby manhole cover started to shake, eventually moving away from its place over the hole in the ground. One by one a group of Crab People rose to the earth's surface. Their beady eyes simultaneously fixed onto Lexi. They advanced with outstretched, pinching claws. Increasingly nervous, Butters tightly clutched Lexi and ducked behind Mysterion. Recognizing his enemy, Mysterion grabbed for relevant weaponry inside his utility belt: a crab mallet, and a small packet of old bay seasoning. The hero and villains charged each other; battle ensuing. Butters moved behind a dumpster, but didn't run off. He couldn't now. Not while Mysterion was literally fighting for him. "Oh, cheese and crackers..." Butters 'swore'.

Mysterion's fists swung indiscriminately. Beady crab eyes were blackened. Red crabs were turned black and blue. Old bay seasoning flew into the face of one crab, seemingly putting him down for the night. Mysterion cracked open a few crabs with his mallet before quickly dining on their insides. Such graphic violence made Butters shudder and close his eyes tightly. He opened them again only when he heard Mysterion struggling to defeat the larger number of Crab Persons. Their pinchers locked onto his arms and legs. One especially large crab, perhaps the King Crab of the group, pinched a writhing Mysterion's throat and nose, cutting off his oxygen. "Foolish human! Now we shall procure the child and collect the bounty, making Crab People even richer. Then we shall rent an apartment on the surface world, beginning our plans for world domination much closer to where we need to be! Ahahaha!"

Butters considered putting Lexi down and springing into action himself, but he didn't have to. The night sky became illuminated by a bright flying speck of light. Colorful lasers shot down toward the earth. The King Crab was hit by the beam, followed by his henchmen. Mysterion was freed and resumed the battle, while the flying object spun down to the ground. Closer proximity to the speck of light revealed that it was in fact a space craft. Familiar black eyed aliens exited the ship after it landed, and the alien visitors joined the fight. Their motivation went unexplained since the aliens could only "Moo!" in English.

Butters frowned, looking back at Lexi. "Aw heck, they're after us too?" It got even worse. A distant song grew closer as a second round of creatures rose up from the still-uncovered manhole. Underpants Gnomes emerged from the sewers. They bit at the aliens' ankles and crabs' balls, caring nothing about the size advantage of their adversaries. Other Gnomes attached themselves to Mysterion like leaches; tugging at the underwear portion of his costume.

"You little bastards are supposed to fight for good!" Mysterion criticized.

"We're only Santa's Elves some of the year." a Gnome replied. "With Eric Cartman's ransom we can buy more underpants than we'll know what to do with!"

Gunfire rang out, startling both Butters and Lexi. He did his best to comfort the crying baby while keeping his eyes on the fight. Mysterion didn't seem afraid of the on-going gunfire, which Butters was both scared by and thankful for. As bodies fell and smoke cleared, Butters found that the shots had been fired by a group of Ginger Kids, led by Scott Tenorman. "The only person collecting Eric Cartman's ransom will be me!" Tenorman corrected the Gnome. "His ransom, and then some. I can't wait to see the look on his fat face when he's forced to hand over all his money in exchange for his child."

"I know Cartman hurt you, but two wrongs don't make a right, Scott." Mysterion said, trying to reason with him. "Can't you other Gingers see he's just using you?"

"Shut up!" Tenorman replied. "With my brother's money we can make the world a better place for Gingers. We'll buy Wendy's and change the mascot. Ron Howard will direct all the big Hollywood films. People mock us Gingers. They have the nerve to call us James Holmes. Well who's James Holmes now?!" He fired another round of shots at his various competitors.

South Park Police appeared soon afterward, engaging the Gingers in a massive shootout. A shootout which was ceased when Manbearpig showed up, forcing both sides to turn their combined firepower at the seemingly unstoppable beast. Al Gore arrived next, jumping fearlessly onto Manbearpig's back as gun after gun was unloaded. Mysterion hurled a green, question-mark shaped bomb toward his rogues' gallery, causing an explosion! The Goth Kids arrived next; lighting cigarettes off of the explosion's flame. Before they could even make dark sarcastic remarks, they were attacked from behind by Vamp Kids, the two sides brawling near a destroyed car.

Behind Butters, the dumpster's lid rose up. Butters gasped; fearful of who or what may be coming next. He protectively held Lexi to his chest and braced himself. From the depths of the dumpster, covered in garbage and surrounded by flies, came a homeless man. His grime-covered hand reached out toward Lexi; his dead eyes threateningly staring down Butters. "CHANGE!"

A swift roundhouse kick knocked the homeless man back into the garbage below. The blow had been delivered by a pajama-clad Wendy. A pajama-clad Eric was right behind her, poorly imitating Tony Montana while firing his own gun at the Gingers. Butters just hoped they wouldn't turn their vengeance on him once this was over.

"The hell are you doing?!" Mysterion yelled overtop of the noise.

"Saving your ass!" Cartman replied. "You're welcome, asshole!"

Wendy explained their arrival a bit better. "We weren't going to just sit around while our daughter was missing. If you want something done right, do it yourself. I told Eric not to put out that goddamn ransom notice because it would get the wrong kind of people looking for Baby, but as usual he didn't think enough before acting!"

"I should've thought more before I married you. That's what I should've done."

Mysterion tied some rubber bands around a crab's claw. "Can you two do this later?! We have to protect Lexi!"

"Who's Lexi?" the couple asked in unison. Butters nervously shuffled his feet in response.

Wendy delivered a side kick to a Gnome's skull, knocking him loose from Mysterion's uniform. Her foot had come only centimeters from hitting the crotch. Mysterion was never more grateful for Wendy's pinpoint accuracy. Wendy fought on, relying on hand to hand combat until she was able to pick up a discarded gun, using it as a club until she would be able to reload.

"...She's pretty hot, huh?" Cartman muttered admiringly to Mysterion as he watched his kick-ass wife in action.

"No comment." Mysterion knew that there wasn't any response he could give that wouldn't in one way or another get him in trouble. "How'd you know we were here?"

"My alien anal probe works like GPS." Cartman said. "I knew they'd want a piece of my money."

"You still have that probe?"

"You still wear briefs!" Cartman defended.

"Eric? Do you even have the money you offered these people?"

Cartman scoffed. "Fuck no. And they wouldn't get it even if I did."

Mysterion threw a second question mark from his belt, this time toward the Gingers. It didn't explode as the previous had. Instead it emitted a very bright light, causing the sensitive-skinned redheads to scatter. Some totally retreated. Others hid, putting them out of the battle. Scott Tenorman desperately tried applying sun tan lotion to his quickly-burning flesh. Another question mark aimed at the Vamps. It simply broke open, allowing several spiders to escape and crawl onto the intended victims, gnawing at their bodies. A third question mark wrapped around the head of a crab. His claws struggled frantically to remove the device, fearing another bomb. Instead, harmless confetti rained down onto the crab's shoulders once the question mark popped.

"New toys?" Wendy asked.

"Exploding question marks." Mysterion explained with a smile. He was somewhat proud of his idea. "Each is filled with something different to keep the bad guys guessing. Because I'm-"

"Because you're Mysterion. Yeah that's sooo fuckin' funny, Kinny!" a jealous Cartman criticized.

Somehow, through all the commotion, Lexi had managed to stop crying. As he watched the violence unfold and his hometown get decimated for what felt like the millionth time, Butters worried he might start balling in Lexi's place. "Oh, Lexi." he sighed. "What kind of world did they bring you into? All the war and fighting and Manbearpigs. On top of that your parents can only stop fighting when you turn up missing. What kind of life are you going to have? How could you possibly grow up okay here? I'll let you in on a little secret: it's reasons like this why I turned to a life of chaos. Sometimes I think maybe the world isn't a beautiful place. If I could just see one nice thing come out of all this trouble, just one, I'd feel a lot better."

Scott Tenorman fired one last shot with the intent to kill. He aimed not at the town's hero who had foiled his numerous schemes, or the half-brother who had caused him years of internal misery, but at the woman whose loss he knew would maximize the other boys' pain.

"LOOK OUT!"

Eric Cartman dove in front of his wife, his larger frame literally taking the bullet that had been meant for her. Mysterion tended to his fallen friend with his first aid materials. While Scott Tenorman ran for cover, a crying Wendy moved to Cartman's side. She held his hand comfortingly, placing a single sweet kiss against his chubby cheek in appreciation for what he had just done.

"He's losing blood." Mysterion reported as the pair of tweezers in his hand struggled desperately to dislodge the bullet from Eric's chest. His cape soaked up what blood it could, but the wound hadn't been closed yet. Cartman's firm grip on Wendy's hand began to weaken; his pulse slowing down.

"No! You aren't leaving me." Wendy's statement wasn't a denial about what was happening; it was an angry, tear-filled command into her husband's ear. "You can't leave me! You always say you will but you don't, and you aren't starting now! I won't let you! I'm not raising Baby as a single mother you bastard! Get up!" As he grew increasingly unresponsive, Wendy's shrill orders for Eric to stay with her turned into softer, concerned requests. The worst part? Butters knew that Wendy would've survived the shot anyway thanks to her vest.

Butters had gotten his wish. The one good deed he'd hoped to see from humanity. The most inhumane person he knew committed a mostly selfless act. Cartman could've let his supposedly awful wife take the hit and been rid of her for good. He could've let Mysterion play the knight in shining armor role for the damsel in distress. Instead, it was Cartman's instinct to protect his wife, and in turn, his child. Massive ego or not, Butters wagered that deep down Eric knew Wendy was a very capable mother who could make it on her own if she absolutely had to. And, that if Lexi absolutely had to be without one of them, she'd be better off in Wendy's care. Butters promised to be more careful what he wished for in the future.

Wendy retrieved Eric's concealed knife; forcing herself away from his side. There would be time for mourning at the funeral, and the look in Wendy's eyes suggested to both Butters and Mysterion that it would be a double funeral if the possible soon to be widow could help it. "Don't." Mysterion pleaded with her. But, of course, she did. Wendy didn't mind Scott's head start. When hunting another human being a head start was always a courtesy. It didn't stop her from catching him, nor from plunging Eric's knife into Scott's leg, severing the tendon he'd need to get away again. She removed the knife only to look for a better place to fatally plunge it into. Scott twisted and turned to try to avoid being stabbed anywhere crucial. He fought her off with what superior physical strength he had, but Wendy's various non-lethal slashes made Scott resemble a bloody piece of Swiss cheese until the blood loss made it too difficult for him to fight back.

"STOP!"

Butters couldn't take anymore. If Wendy killed Scott, she'd end up in jail. If Cartman died on top of that, Lexi really would be alone, getting raised by Butters full-time. He didn't want that fate for her. Butters slowly approached Wendy with Lexi in his arms. Mysterion discarded the successfully removed bullet, and then quickly worked on crudely stitching Eric up. As expected, Wendy softened just enough at the sight of her baby, realizing the potential consequences for her actions right away. Her foot pressed to a weakened Scott's throat, hesitant to deliver the final blow.

"Wendy, this isn't what she would want. Lexi wants to grow up in a nice world. In a - in a world with loving parents who can be there to take care of her. Who love her and each other, and who don't smack each other around all the darn time!"

"So what if he's not around?" Wendy finally had to admit. "Is that fair to her? What about the fact that this is what he would want me to do." she weakly argued.

"You don't know that."

"It's what I would want." Cartman softly replied from his spot on the ground. Just hearing Cartman's familiar voice again made Wendy smile with relief.

"Hush up, Eric!" Butters said reflexively before realizing that the response meant that Eric was, at best, alive. "Eric!" he happily chirped.

Wendy sighed. Her husband was alive, and Butters made a valid point somewhere among his sap-filled speech about happy children. Defeated, Wendy jabbed the knife's blade into Scott's hand, pinning him where he laid for the police to apprehend. She held out her arms, accepting Lexi from Butters and holding the child near her blood-stained pajama top. The two made their way back to Cartman's side, soon joined by Butters. The three tightly hugged Cartman's large body as Mysterion cleared out the remaining villains.

"What the fuck kinda name is Lexi?" Cartman criticized.

/

"The battle between man and crab person was epic." Butters turned the page of the self-published comic book he was reading Lexi for a bedtime story. "But in the end...Huh?" Butters turned the page back, making sure he hadn't accidentally skipped too far ahead. He turned it forward again, beginning where he'd left off. "But in the end, The Coon showed up and heroically saved the day, and once again, the whole world."

A parka-clad Kenny glared across the baby's crib at a smiling, still bandaged Cartman. "That is not how it happened!"

"It's my comic book, my rules!" Eric replied.

"Honey, you should really consider changing that name." Wendy said. "'Coon' is a racial slur. It's only a matter of time before the African-American community complains and you're forced to change it anyway."

"And maybe you should really consider shutting the fuck up."

Wendy couldn't bring herself to harm Eric's upper body after what he'd put it through for her, so she responded only by stomping on his foot with the intention of breaking a few toes. If Cartman hoped he could get away with figurative murder in the aftermath of his heroism, he was sorely mistaken. "With a name like that, I suppose we got off easy with Lexi." Wendy gave her husband's hand another loving squeeze all the same, which he reluctantly returned after glaring at her for the foot damage.

"Yeah. You still shouldn't have kidnapped her, and we're gonna have to make you pay for that sometime Butters, but for now I'm just glad we're all home safe. Especially you, Lexi Cartman-Testaburger."

"...Why does your name get to go first?" Wendy questioned.

"Because my name's awesome. You can't lead with 'Testaburger'. All the kids would call her Testicleburger."

"And by all the kids, he means the asshole ones like him." Kenny said.

"Shut up you poor piece of shit!"

"See?"

"You don't own me." Wendy said. "The last name Cartman receives automatic negative judgment, much like the last name Hitler."

"My last name is awesome and kewl! Everyone in this town knows my family's name!"

"Yeah, because of your mom!"

"...Oh no you didn't, bitch!"

Butters glanced to Kenny knowingly. Kenny glanced back and nodded. They picked up Lexi together as the war of words continued on and the foam-padded baseball bats came out.

"DIVORCE!" was Lexi's second word. It was less of a word and more of a request.

But, as usual, Cartman refused to stay away for long.

The End