::Sneaker's SnacShak – Memories::

Kenny had drug the police car into the entrance of the building to prevent the firemen from getting in right away after all his friends and family got out.

He needed time to feed all the animatronics to the fire in the kitchen. The broken pieces of Sniffer, Scratcher, and Sneaker's endoskeleton- he had to make sure they burned. It wasn't until that task was completed, and the rear employee door was getting broken into, that he finally fed himself to the flames.

He didn't know if it would work. He was hoping it would.

The smell was the first thing that signaled success. The musty, stuffy, shitty smell of his house. Suddenly having a sense of smell again would have been a relief if that wasn't the first thing he got a whiff of.

Better was the sense of his body. Having skin that could sense the texture of his blankets, his bed, his coat-

That fucking coat.

All at once, he was upright in bed. It was always dark in here with the lights off; he didn't have a window, but there was also no light coming in from under his door. That signaled it was either very late or very early... and it was as cold as it always was. Flipping his hood up, he drew it tight and groped around his bedroom to find the busted chest of drawers off the edge of his bed. He never understood why, while he always resurrected with his coat, he never came back with his underwear- and the Colorado draft was something he didn't fucking appreciate right after a mortal experience.

Then again, after being a machine without any sense of feeling for a while, he was kinda glad for any sensory experience... even if it was his equipment shriveling up like raisins in the cold.

That taken care of, he wasn't sure what his intent was. He wanted to check in at Karen, but assuming she'd stuck to her plans, she'd spent the night at Tricia's place with her friends. Showing up at the Tucker residence at who even fucking know what the hour was sounded like a fast way to embarrass her...

What did she even remember? Does she think I abandoned her? … does she think I ran away?

He hated that thought. Hated it more than anything- more than not knowing why he couldn't die. The idea of Karen thinking he straight up ditched her when she needed him, that she couldn't depend on him to be there when she needed him...

That thought spiral was interrupted by a knock. A soft rapping of knuckles; not on his bedroom door. No one in this fucking house knocked like that besides Karen, and she wasn't here. No, it came from his closet...

He felt his hopeless heart suddenly leap up into his throat. Lyssie.

He rushed over, pulling the cover off of the secret entrance to his room and offering a hand to the girl who had the singular distinction of believing him when he told her about his inability to die, and everyone else's inability to remember. She wasn't any different in the latter regard; she forgot, just like everyone else... but if she ever put together that something didn't add up about him suddenly disappearing during something shitty? She did this.

She came over to see him, to check in, to listen to him.

It was a big part of how they became friends... and a bigger part of how he'd started crushing on her a year ago- not that he'd ever told her that. They'd been guy friends back then. Coming onto 'Dee' would have made things awkward in the whole group... or so he'd reasoned back then. Considering how accepting Stan and Kyle had been about them being 'gay' together, it was probably more accurate to say he'd rationalized not saying anything for fear of fucking shit up with the one guy who seemed to give a fuck whether he was okay or not.

Guy or girl didn't matter to him- Dee or Alyssa didn't matter to him. The person he helped through that hole in his wall had been special to him for a long time.

Once she was mostly upright, he hugged her. The mass of her body was warm, despite the chill from outdoors still sticking to the external layer.

"... are you not wearing pants?"

He blinked. He forgot about that.

"... shhhh, we're having a moment."

She snorted; the sound of her holding back a laugh rather than just letting it out, but he felt her shoulders shake. He giggled along with her before letting her go, retreating to his bed and quickly covering up with the blankets there to escape the cold. She joined him, hopping up onto the surface of his bed and pulling her feet up after heel-toeing out of her shoes... which he noticed were not her usual big heavy boots, but gym shoes.

That's right, her boots got abandoned.

"Hoodie, boots... you're running out of trademarks to lose. What's next, your hat?" He posited through the muffle of his hood.

"Nooope." She shook her head, tucking her feet under the blankets to keep them warm. "I'd kill someone to keep this hat safe; my mom made it for me." She pulled the aforementioned garment off of her head, red curls pouring out as she handed it across to him. "Feel it- super squishy, right? It's crochet."

Kenny took the item when offered, squishing the material between his hands. The yarn was cheap, but layering up made it exceptionally... well, squishy was the right word, or maybe just the one that felt right after she'd put it in his head. He turned it in his hands, contemplating trying it on... but that would require taking his hood down, and he was cold enough at the moment. "Really? … how long have you had this thing?"

He remembered she had it the day she moved in, so at least a couple years.

"Since I was like... five?" She reached across, putting her hand into the hat as if she were going to pull a rabbit out of it like a magician. "Check this, there's a surprise inside." Rather than pull anything out of the hat, she grabbed the inside of it to turn it inside-out, exposing the clumsy stitching of the base layer that had been hidden under the cleaner top layer. Kenny suspected Alyssa's mom had been a beginner at crochet when she'd set out to make her daughter a hat... which might have explained why the item was big enough to still fit her head after all these years. More than that, however, was a little bit of different-colored stitching. Not crochet loops, but like someone had sewn in a length of yarn between the loops to make a decorative shape on the inside of the hat.

A yellow star, particularly.

"Huh... what's it with you and stars? Ever since your hoodie got ruined, you've been wearing that star-shirt, too."

"When I was little, my dad got me a SNES- and I was way into Mario." She smiled nostalgically, taking her had back and recapturing her hair beneath it. "Back then, I knew I wasn't always safe, but I didn't know why... but when playing my game, if you had a star, nothing could touch you. Mom put a star in my hat as a lucky charm so I wouldn't be scared to go to school when I started kindergarten."

The anecdote made him stare at her for a second, silence hanging for a moment as she looked back at him and cocked her head slightly to ask 'What?' without actually saying it.

"That is..." He paused, before throwing himself at her for a seated hug, dragging her over to his side of the bed and ultimately his lap. "So adorable!"

"A-Ack- Kenny- augh, lemme go you- dork!" She squirmed when grabbed, her feet coming out from under her as she was captured and drug over. Somewhere in the exchange, she ended up laughing aloud behind a hand covering her mouth. "It's stupid... just... a thing I hold onto." She downplayed it, trying to sober things and probably escaped the embarrassed blush that he could practically hear covering her cheeks. "It's not like it actually makes me feel safe anymore... I know better."

Despite trying to play it off, she remained where he'd drug her, laying back with her head in his lap, looking up at him. Her big black coat was zipped up, but he was willing to bet she was wearing that T-shirt with the star on the chest right then... but despite the dark there was one thing he didn't have to bet on, and it was the stupid-huge smile stretched across her face.

"It's not stupid. It's cute." He argued, slipping a hand over one of hers, looking for more contact. He felt touch-starved, reveling in having his senses back. Every little thing was the best thing ever. "Because I said so."

"Aaah, well, who am I to deny the rule of Princess Kenny?" She smirked up at him, accepting his hand, his bare fingers easily intertwining with her gloved ones.

There was a pause. This moment didn't happen because she'd decided to visit out of nowhere. They both knew it.

"What tripped you this time?" He asked her. Not an uncommon place to start. Knowing how much she didn't remember gave him a point at which to start correcting the record. The rest would go from there.

"The selfie of the sign." She answered. "The picture Karen asked me to take? I... guess I sent it to myself to save it before I abandoned my phone to bait Sniffer while he had me pinned in the play area. I remember taking the picture, but I don't remember you being there for it, and I don't remember sending the photo to myself... which probably means part of my motivation for saving it was attached to you." She mused. "I woke up, got online to catch up on shit, and there it was in my inbox, with you in the picture when... I don't remember you being at the party at all."

So Karen probably thinks I just didn't come... ouch.

"You pulled me and Kevin into it." He noted softly. "... I was gonna print it out for Karen- frame it for her."

An idea struck him. A desperate one, maybe, but it hit him all the same.

"... could you... make her remember?"

She blinked beneath him. Slowly, she lifted herself up, settling back on her own butt to look at him seriously. The shift changed the way their hands gripped together, fingers sliding apart for palms to instead clasp between where they sat. "Kenny..."

"Not the whole night!" He quickly covered. "Just... let her remember I was there, at least for a little while. Long enough that I could still give her the picture- give her at least one happy memory from that shitshow."

"Kenny, I might break her- I don't know if I can fabricate a memory without doing damage, and I'm sure as shit not going to try that out for the first time on your sister."

He knew the request was a bad one. Selfish, even. Alyssa was making perfect sense, and yet? He wanted to be mad at her for saying no. He wanted to be angry, and accuse her of being unfair... but he knew that wasn't right.

"... I just don't want her to think I abandoned her. I... I've never not been there when she needed me, Lyssie. I've always-"

His attempt to explain was interrupted. Not by Alyssa; she'd been sitting there quietly, listening as she did whenever he needed someone to listen. No, the interruption came from his door.

From a soft, tiny knock.

"... Kenny? Are you awake?"

Karen's voice, quietly calling through his door. She'd come home! But... why? Panicked, he glanced to Alyssa, as if she might give him the answer of what the fuck he was supposed to do right now.

Alyssa looked just as lost, but gave him a small nod of encouragement.

"Yeah, I'm up. C'mon in, punk."

The door gently opened, and Karen slipped through, dressed in a set of thick pajamas that were bright pink... which, surprise, Karen had done work on to add black accents along all the hem lines. It was some of her earlier work; the seems visible and frequently uneven, but she still wore it all the time. Leaning on the door to shut it behind her, she only noticed Alyssa once she was in the room. "Oh! Dee... sorry, were you two...?"

"It's okay, short stack, get your butt up here." Kenny motioned his sister to join them, watching as she hurried her way over and climbed up to join him atop his janky-ass mattress. "You okay?"

"Uh... yeah, I'm... I mean..."

Fuck, I knew it- she has to hate me.

"Listen, Karen..." Kenny reached out, grasping her by the shoulder. "About your party, I..."

"No!" She shook her head, overriding him before he could apologize for not being here. She had a look on her face; one of utter determination. "I wanted to thank you!"

Kenny blinked. That didn't compute.

In his silence. Karen continued. "After that talk we had, where... where we talked about how I'm gonna get into trouble, and stuff is gonna happen, and that's okay- I know we talked about me messing up and doing bad things, but it made me realize that part of the deal is you're not always gonna be there to rescue me. So... I wanted to thank you for... letting me do this one on my own- even if it was scary! And dangerous! I... I think I learned a lot, and that's important. So..."

She trailed off. Kenny got the sense that she'd been practicing this speech, and she hadn't said half of what she meant to say. It was weird, hearing her thank him for not being there, for letting her take care of her own shit when he had very much been there, but...

Well, the lesson was solid, at least.

She was suddenly up on her knees, leaning over to wrap him up in both arms with a hug that might have been bone-crushing if she were a little older. Kenny had to let go of Alyssa's hand to hug her back, squeezing her back in much the same manner.

"I love you, Kenny."

"Heh... I love you too, punk. Now sit your ass down and tell your big brother all about your crazy party- and the after party over at Tricia's place. Gimmie deets! You break any hearts?"

"Kenny!" Karen sat back, cuffing her big brother in the shoulder. "... don't you wanna go back to sleep? It's like... five in the morning."

"Screw sleep, it's story time. It's not like this guy was gonna tell me what went down." Kenny reached out for Alyssa, pulling her in closer like they were about to settle in for some Netflix and chill before looking expectantly back at Karen. "Princess Sugar Skull has the floor."

"Alright, alright!" Karen giggled, grabbing a corner of the blanket herself to settle in and stay a while. "Fair warning though, it gets pretty scary... might even give you nightmares!"

"And now for the news program that starts your day off right, It's GOOD MORNING, SOUTH PARK! Our top story this morning is a follow-up on the terrible fire at the new pizzeria, Sneaker's SnacShak. Here with more is a midget in a bikini, and a cowboy hat."

Dee had returned home in time to get ready for school, but immediately knew her attempt at sneaking in without her parents knowing she'd been out were foiled when she heard her usual news program blasting on the TV. Mom left for work at crazy-o-clock, which meant...

Yep, there was dad, standing in the entryway to the kitchen.

"Early start?" He asked, eyebrows arched up as she froze in the doorway. In response, she attempted an innocent smile, but she somehow doubted she carried it off right at that exact moment.

Shutting the door behind her, she made sure it was secure before saying, "It was important... I- uh..."

She blanched. Admitting where she went felt like she was going to run smack into the issue that had sparked the last big fight.

"Yes?" Dad prompted, waiting for her to explain while the TV continued to drone in the background, covering the fire yesterday afternoon.

"... I went to check in with Kenny. He... was worried sick about Karen. I wanted to make sure he was alright."

"... at five in the morning?" Dad pressed.

"... it's when I woke up?" She offered with a shrug, aware that it sounded weak as hell. Maybe it could have waited, but she didn't want to wait when she knew how often he felt forgotten after shit like that. It felt too important to wait once she'd known what happened.

Dad remained stoic for several seconds longer, and then let it go. "You kids... I remember being that impulsive. Just... leave a note or something next time, okay? At least until we get your phone replaced."

"I... I can do that." She agreed.

"Speaking of replacements..." Dad continued on, retreating into the kitchen. "Package arrived for you on Saturday; things were so busy all weekend I think it slipped everyone's minds."

Dee felt a shot of excitement run through her- she'd been expecting a package. Eagerly, she hurried across the living room to meet her father as he returned to the doorway to the kitchen, holding out the soft, squishy parcel for her. She wasted no time in taring it open, using her teeth when nails failed and revealing bright, electric blue fabric inside.

My hoodie! Finally!

She wasted no time changing, shedding of her coat, and the flannel shirt she'd been using to disguise her body shape, and pulling on her brand-new oversized electric blue hoodie over the top of her T-shirt with the star on the chest. It wasn't exactly the same as her old one, but it was close enough that she doubted anyone but her would be able to tell the difference... and the soft fleece on the inside was new and felt so nice.

Dad chuckled in the background. "Hungry? I'm making breakfast sandwiches."

"Yes please." She responded, picking up the packaging she'd ripped apart to throw it away before plopping her butt on the couch... just in time to catch the tail end of the segment.

"... what's fascinating to know is that the Sneaker's chain, started by South Park's own Herbert Garrison, former President of the United States and elementary school teacher, is not actually meant to be a classic pizzeria. Visiting website, the service for birthday parties is described as a traditional birthday party package in all public areas, but is in fact meant to trick children into thinking they're getting a run-of-the-mill birthday party, with the 'Sneaker's Experience' being based around locking in the guests and turning the restaurant into a haunted house where the animatronic characters scare the children by hiding and jumping out at them. When we reached out to Garrison for comment, he said that he always disclosed this to parents, and his chain became popular with families trying to quote, 'Scare their kids to toughen them up. Really de-pussify them, y'know?', end quote. Back to you, Tom."

Oh. So they were meant to be fucking terrifying in the dark. That explains the eyes.

"Lyssie, have you taken your medicine today?" Dad called from the kitchen.

"Not yet!" She answered back, craning her head back. She could smell bacon. Dad always did fully loaded when it came to breakfast sandwiches- usually on everything bagels.

"Got it! … huh? … uh, Sport? … did you move your pills?"

Dee blinked. What? She pushed her sore body up and off the couch, coming to the kitchen so they didn't have to shout back and forth, and finding her father peeking into the kitchen cabinet where they usually kept her medicine. She had regular access to it ever since her parents came clean about it and stopped sneaking it into her food, although she still didn't know where the hell her parents even got the stuff in the first place. He also had two frying pans on the stove top; one frying bacon and the other cooking eggs, with cheese slices on hot standby with split bagels. Dad had actually been distracted from his cooking, as the cabinet he was looking into...

Was empty.

"I... squirreled a couple doses away, but I didn't move the box." She informed him. "... did mom clean?"

"She never moves the box." Dad answered, sounding less confused and more upset. "Lyssie, can you watch this for a second? I need to check something..."

"On it." She assured him, stepping up to the stove. She wasn't a master cook like her father, making up delicious things all over the place, but she knew enough of basic breakfast cookery not to burn the bacon or let the eggs get overdone. The moment she took over, her father hurried off to some other part of the house, and she heard his steps going upstairs and thumping across the upper floor as he hurried. Did he have a place where he kept those boxes that she didn't know about?

Now that she thought about it... did her parents regularly order that stuff, or did they just have a stockpile for her? She'd never asked those questions. The medicine was just... a thing. There. But it was important- it was part of using her abilities on command, and not just in extreme circumstances when she'd eaten some horrifying build-it-yourself burrito with moldy cheese and spicy shrimp on it.

Hearing her father curse from upstairs, she had a terrible feeling sinking in her stomach.

"Dad?" She shouted, leaning out from the stove as if it would make her voice carry. "Dad, what's going on?!"

More cursing. Steps thumping back, down the stairs and hurrying back into the kitchen. When her father arrived, he appeared shaken.

"... your medicine..." He gaped, like he couldn't quite believe it himself. "It's gone- it's all gone."

~FIN

::The Author's Corner::

I just cranked out 13K words in one fucking day.

BECAUSE THAT'S HOW BUTTLORD ENDS A FUCKING STORY.

By putting a cliffie at the end that leads directly into the next installment, because shit is about to get real.

Y'all have no idea how excited I am for the next installment. I finally get to start paying off some of the little things I've included throughout the series. One of the reasons this story ended up so long was because certain things needed to be set up for the next two installments.

As always, remember to add me to your Author Alert to make sure you get a notification for when the next installment goes online: New Kid Stories 07: My Future Me, Myself, and I.

I look forward to seeing y'all there! As always, thank you so much for reading, and I beg you please drop a review and tell me what you think! I AM A FEEDBACK GLUTTON. Feel like theorizing? Or asking Alyssa, Kenny, or any of the rest of the crew some questions? There's a Tumblr linked in my author profile that answers in-character asks, and we have a discord server specifically for readers to chat with each other [and occasionally my crazy ass] about what's new in the story.

ONWARDS MY FRIENDS AND READERS!

-Buttlord