DISCLAIMERS: All characters and events in this story- even those based on real people- are completely fictional. In fact, none of these characters belong to the writer of the story and are interpreted… poorly. The following text is not only crude in nature but also completely unoriginal (it's a "fanfic", after all) and should not be read by anyone. For those of you who have completely ignored this warning, enjoy.

***

RABIES

A "South Park" story

By Snodin

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ACT I: The Symptoms

This was his fourth sick day in a row.

Not since his kidney failure has Kyle been so absent from school, and now even Mr. Garrison was showing concern. "Okay children," was his usual introduction to a long-winded speech; only this time he added, "before class is over I want to remind you that your reports on the fall of the Roman Empire are due Monday. Stan, since Kyle's your partner in this project and he's home sick again, I'll let you two give your report next Friday."

Sitting behind Stan was Cartman, the fat kid with the big mouth. He made sure that Stan heard him whisper, "Psst. Figures he goes easy on the gay couple."

"Shuddup, fatass," the blue-capped kid muttered back quickly.

"Stanley?" the balding, bespectacled teacher rose his voice in frustration. "Is there something you'd like to say?"

Stan replied calmly, "Oh, uh… I was just wondering if we were allowed to bring visual aid, Mr. Garrison."

"What for?"

"Well, I had an idea of bringing a board game like Risk or something, to help Cartman tell the difference between the Romans and the rebel peasants."

"Ay!" barked the chubby one. "I know the diff'rence between Romans and peasants! I ain't stupid."

"Oh yeah?" was Stan's coy remark. "D'you even remember where the Romans lived, tubby?"

"Sure I do… Ehh… It was… Ro-maaan…owski-mania?"

"Close enough," said Mr. Garrison.

"What!?" Before Stan could protest, the bell rung to signal the end of the day.

"Alright, class dismissed! Thank God," sighed the troubled teacher. As Stan passed him by on the way to the door, Garrison added, "Stanley, you can bring in the board game. Just make sure your partner gets better before your time runs out and you both get an F."

"Yes, Mr. Garrison."

*

"Stan," sung Cartman in a high teasing voice, "make sure your partner is well enough fer tha presentation next Friday."

The three boys- Stan, Cartman and Kenny in that order- were hopping along their way toward the bus stop outside school while the fat kid resumed his typical banter.

Stan's fine-lined eyebrows furrowed over his large oval eyes. "For the last time, fatass, I'm not in love with Kyle! He's just my best friend, that's all."

"Yeh, I bet dat's wat Heath Ledger said to Jake Gyllenhal, right before he b$#d him in th'ass."

They came to their stop, just in time for Stan to turn around and shove his pointer finger at Cartman. "Goddamnit, Cartman! I've just about had it with you and your big, fat, stupid mouth! You say we're gay one more time, and I'm gonna shove my foot up your ass."

"I bun fink iff gonna fit in 'ere," muffled the tightly-hooded Kenny. "Hiff aff iff poo big."

"Shuddup, Kenny!" barked Cartman defensively. "Who asked you??"

Finally, the bus pulled up.

*

The boys were quiet for the whole trip to the bus stop near their homes, but no sooner did it drop them off then Cartman was at it again. "I bet Kyle's fakin' it anyway. He's jess tryin' to get out of schoo'."

"That's the difference between you and him," argued the ring leader of the group; "he actually wants to pass the grade."

"I fought buh kibnee he bot frum Partman mabe him all bedder."

"Yeah, his kidney's just fine now Kenny," frowned Stan, "but I think it's different this time. I saw him yesterday, and you know what? His eyes were pale."

"Dude his eyes are always pale," argued Cartman.

"No, I mean like they're whiter than usual. It's like you can't even see the brown in 'em anymore. You guys gotta see it for yourselves."

"No way, man. I ain't getting' germs from your Jew boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend, fatass!"

"…Well, he is a Jew." There was no arguing with him there.

*

In the quaint little green house on the block lived the Broflovski family. In his room, Kyle was sitting up in bed, his blanket covering the orange coat he wore constantly. But there was something definitely wrong with his appearance; his eyes were as glazed as Stan described, but there was more. His skin was now fading from fleshy peach to pale white, with just a hint of sickly green. Around his mouth and on his chin were green wart-like growths, and his mouth gaped open, letting loose some drool. To sum it up quite promptly, he resembled Selma Blair from "The Exorcist."

By his bedside were his overbearing mother, his tiny adopted brother Ike, and the lead doctor of the town, Dr. Doctor. …No seriously, that really is his name.

As the doctor checked the sickly boy's pulse with a stethoscope, Mrs. Broflovski looked on in despair. "I don't understand it, Doctor. He was perfectly fine a few days ago, and now he's barely even eating."

"When was his last meal?"

"This morning I gave him cereal, and he snubbed it without even uttering a word."

At that point, the boy seemed to be trying to utter words, but they only came out as, "Uugh-yee-augh-uuuuuh…."

"Well keep trying," advised the doctor as he moved away from Kyle. "I'm getting a fast heart rate, and his temperature is rising. I'm going to need a sample of his blood to analyze back at the hospital."

"Oh, just be careful! My wubbie's blood shugah may be too low."

The doctor pulled out his small needle when Mr. Broflovski entered the room with Stan, Kenny and even Cartman. "Honey, Kyle's friends are here to see him."

"This isn't a good time boys," the Mrs. Gently warned. "The doctor's taking Kyle's blood now."

"Ho-ho, sweet!" cheered Cartman, delighting in the idea of his long-time rival feeling pain.

As the needle entered his arm, Kyle's eyes fluttered for the first time in days. "Imputent… mortals…" he seemed to breathe, in a voice that seemed to be mixed with his regular childish one and that of a baritone's.

The doctor seemed to hear him and replied, "Now, now. It's just a little stick, that's all."

"I will show you pain…"

"Dude," Stan spoke up, obviously creeped out by Kyle's tone of voice. "Something's totally wrong here. You guys notice it too?"

"Yeah," answered the smartass Cartman; "He didn't blow ya a kiss er nothin'."

Stan growled at his remark, but then his attention was stolen by a sudden growl coming from Kyle. Only it didn't sound human at all, it was more like a hungry bear's grumble. It even scared the doctor into backing away, along with Mrs. Broflovski.

With a great inhuman bellow, Kyle's mouth opened wide and unleashed a torrent of vomit, which splattered all over the place. Everyone ducked and watched in horror as the walls were painted greenish-brown in bile.

"Holy sh#t!!" exclaimed Cartman. Kenny added something too, but it was hard to tell what he said- it couldn't have been courteous, that was for sure.

Kyle's head whipped around like a garden hose, as if he was purposely aiming at everything in the room. Then, just as quickly as it began, the horror ended and the boy passed out in exhaustion. Everyone rose back to their feet, all partially covered in brown goo.

"Jesus Christ," cussed the disgusted doctor, waving vomit off of his arms. "This is much worse than I thought. It could be salmonella, or E. coli.

"E. coli can do that!?" asked Kyle's doubtful father.

"Hush, Gerald! The doctor knows what he's doing," snapped his wife. "Ike, clean this mess up."

"Aww, poopie sticks!" replied the annoyed half-vomited on toddler.

Sheila Broflovski then turned to the visiting children. "I'm sorry kids, but you'll have to come back later to see Kyle."

"Later!? Cripes!" complained Cartman. "After this, I won't be seeing this place for another decade!"

"Shuddup, Cartman," snapped Stan. He then promised Kyle's mom, "We'll be back."

"I know he'll appreciate it," she nodded.

As she said this, the weakened Kyle mumbled softly, "Mmeughraphilleh…"

*

Stan and his tagalong friends were walking down the street that evening, all cleaned up as if nothing had happened to them. But it was needless to say that their visit to Kyle's room was a memory that wouldn't immediately go away.

"Man! Did you see all that crap he chucked up?" asked a seemingly concerned Cartman. "I hope it's not contagious."

"I dunno what it is," replied a truly concerned Stan, "but I have the weirdest feeling I've seen it before."

"Hell yeah, it's like ev'ry time you try to kiss Wendy… Ay, that explains it!"

"Explains what?" asked Stan bodly as he stopped in his tracks to face Cartman.

Cartman replied matter-of-factly, "Stan pukes when he's with Wendy, Kyle pukes when he's with Stan. …You see? He's totally gay for you!"

Stan's eyes bulged in outrage. "What!?"

"Holy Jesus, this explains everything!" smiled Cartman, as if he had struck gold. "You gahs always make up after a fight, you hold hands, and you never ever call him a Jew."

"Well it's not like a curse word, like you think it is. And when the hell did we ever hold hands!?"

"Like that one time, when we were hunting with Uncle Jimbo, and you saw the deer and you didn't kill it, and you were like, 'Ay, Uncle Jimbo! I can't shoot a deer 'cause I'm a pussy.' And Kyle was all like, 'Aw, poor Stan. Here, let me hold your hand and walk you home.' And then you guys totally made out right in front of Jerry Springer."

Stan stood motionless with his mouth gaped open for a moment. "………What the f#*k kind of world do you come from, Cartman?"

"You gahs, I just thought of it! Why don't we, like, put your names together like dey do with celebrities? We'll call you gahs… Kan. No, Marshki… No, no wait! I got it! I got it! We'll call it… Style!"

"You're totally losing it, fatass."

"No, seriously! You gahs are like Penn an' Teller, only Teller talks and he's a Jew and he totally bangs you."

Stan had kept his cool for as long as he could, but this was the last straw. He clutched his red mittened hands into fists and grit his teeth before stomping his foot in frustration. "That does it, Cartman! This whole gay thing has gone far enough, now you either drop it or I'm dropping you!"

"You cam't drop him, he'ff too fab po eefin lifp up," muffled Kenny.

"What do you mean drop me?" asked Cartman with a raised eyebrow.

"I mean I'm dropping you from our group," warned Stan fiercely. "You hear me, fatass? I will totally not speak to you anymore. I won't invite you over to my house, or go to your birthday parties, or even save your life for the umpteenth time. I'll be through with you! Got it!?"

"Ha. You can't get rid o' me that easily, Style."

"Oh no? Watch me." With that, Stan turned back and started off for home alone.

Cartman did his best to irk him even more with a familiar song: "My life with suck without you, Styyyyyle!"

"Not listening! Lalalalalalalalalala!" resisted Stan, sticking his fingers in his invisible ears as he stormed off.

Cartman then started to chuckle, when he noticed that his more loyal friend, Kenny, wasn't laughing with him. "…What?"

"You reely are an affhole, Parpman."

"Aw, come on Kenny. I was just joking."

But Kenny wasn't having it; he quickly headed in Stan's direction, calling out, "Wafer me, Fan!"

"Ay. Come back here, Kenny! …Kenny!!" But it was no use, Cartman soon found himself alone, abandoned. "…Fine!" he huffed angrily. "Screw you gahs! I'll find some new friends. And you know what? They won't be gay homos like you gahs!" The chubby one then started to storm off in the opposite direction as his former friends, only his pace was much slower… and sadder… than theirs.

*

As evening faded into night, a quiet stillness filled the town of South Park. The full moon hung overhead like a guardian, but not all was as peaceful as it seemed.

Stan and Kenny decided to honor their promise to revisit Kyle, and they waited until they knew for certain that it was safe to do so. That time came around 9pm. Together they walked over to Kyle's green house and gently knocked on it, only to be welcomed by little Ike. He let them in and walked- actually he bounced- up to his big brother's room. They can tell by the way his brow furrowed over his beady black eyes that something was amiss. He may have been a three-year-old, but even Ike suspected something about his brother's condition.

As he carefully creaked open Kyle's bedroom door he muttered, "Piece of pancakes," which in his own way meant something along the lines of "Be careful in there." Then he bounced away, possibly too afraid to venture any further.

Stan and Kenny braced themselves, when suddenly their quiet stealth was shattered by a sudden "Sup, you guys."

"WAH!" they both yelped as they jumped in fear. That's when they realized that they were being followed all along. "Cartman! What the hell're you doing here?" exclaimed a startled Stan.

"Checkin' up on da sick puppy," he innocently replied. "I see you guys had da same idea as we did."

Still stunned by Cartman's sudden appearance, Stan uttered, "We? Who's we?"

Proudly, the chubby boy in red declared, "Meet mah new bestest friend in the whole world… Fred." He stretched out his arm as if welcoming his new friend, but strangely enough, no one was behind him at all.

"…Well? Where is he?" asked Stan, clearly annoyed.

"He's right here. Say hello, Fred." Cartman allowed there to be a moment of dead silence, staring happily at… nothing.

Stan felt dizzy as he pondered Cartman's newest ploy. "…Eh-wha-… what?"

"You gahs kicked me outta your gay-homo group, so I made mah own. Fred's ten times da friend you'll ever be… What's that, Fred? …Oh-ho-ho, yeah. Yeah. You're right, Kenny does look like a retarded penguin."

Stan's eyes closed halfway, looking sleepy but ultimately irritated. "…Dude. Don't tell me you made up an imaginary friend just to hang out with us."

"I'm not hanging out with you gahs. I only came here with Fred!" The more Cartman talked about it, the more he seemed to believe in Fred's existence. "Now let's go make Kyle chuck up his guts an' tape it so we can play it on You Tube."

Stan looked to Kenny for answers; the orange one shrugged, "We mi'aff well pway awong."

"Well," replied Stan in defeat, "as long as he stays in his own corner, I guess it's alright."

"Sweet! Come on, Fred. Follow me." Cartman then marched into the bedroom first, with Stan and Kenny reluctantly following behind.

The room was as clean and orderly, much to the boys' relief. And the fact that Kyle seemed to be sound asleep made them feel all the more at ease. "Wow, Ike did a really good job with the place," Stan said admiringly.

"Yeah, sweet. It really does fit your Style."

"Get in the corner, fatso!" Stan ordered, pointing the way. "Weak," muttered Cartman as Stan approached his sleeping buddy. "…Kyle? …Kyle it's me, Stan. And Kenny's here too. And Cartman, sort of. Listen, I've been doing some research on all your symptoms on Wikipedia, and I'm thinking maybe… you've got bird flu."

"Mmm…uggh…" came a small, weak voice from the bed. For once, Kyle sounded like his old self.

"Dude, you gotta get to the hospital. This looks serious."

"Uuugh," Kyle moaned again. As he did so, he managed to sit up in his bed, facing the side of the room opposite Stan and Kenny. At least from his back, he looked normal.

"Alright, enough o' this crap," stated an annoyed Cartman. He approached Kyle from behind his back and said, "Alright, Jew-boy, game's over. Everybody knows you're faking it, so enough's enough."

"Cartman," growled Stan.

The fat boy ignored him, still addressing Kyle. "Question: How did you git all that stuff on your face? Is it chewed up broccoli or something? I bet you used a garden hose for that vomit effect."

"Cartman, knock it off!" warned Stan. But again, he was ignored.

"Come on, lemmie in on your secret so I can skip scoo' on Monday… Ay! Kyle! I'm talking to you, asshole! Lookit me, I'm over here! Hello?? Can you here me now, Jew-boy? Face me, goddammit!!"

Kyle responded, but certainly not in the way the boys expected him to. At first, Kyle's head shifted so that he can see them from the corner of his left eye. But just when it seemed that his head couldn't rotate any further, it did! Slowly, and with an eerie creaking sound, his head rotated completely around so that he was facing the shocked boys head on, while the rest of his body remained facing the other way. As before, his face was still sickly green, his eyes still glazed and colorless. But now, there was an added feature: sharp fangs where flat teeth once stood. He looked absolutely unworldly!

"What. Da. F#*k?" Cartman uttered in absolute horror.

Kyle's body then began to levitate, while spinning around until it matched his head's viewpoint. With arms stretched out to the sky, the once-human creature spoke out in the child/baritone voice, "You will bow before me, mortals, or face my wrath!"

The boys huddled together- Kenny closed up his hood as tightly as he could in hopes that Kyle wouldn't see him. Then, as if hovering in the air and looking like a monster wasn't enough, Kyle then waved his left arm and clutched his hand to summon a new kind of power: telekinesis. His dresser drawer's flew open and all of the boy's clothes started to whirl around the room as though a tornado had been unleashed. The drawers themselves also shot out with a force, slamming themselves into the walls and just barely missing the petrified children on the ground. But it didn't seem to be enough; Kyle's arms waved like a wizard's causing more and more items in the room to take flight and eventually collide with the ceiling or walls, or go careening out the window.

"Hit the deck!" yelled Stan as he and Kenny rolled out of the way of Kyle's CD collection.

"Lookout, Fred!" yipped Cartman, as he shoved the empty space next to him out of the way of an on-coming desk.

Stan eventually took cover next to the bed, staring up at the creature hovering in the air. "Kyle! Stop it! Your parents'll have a fit if you don't clean all this up!"

"I will teach you to fear me, little human," said the creature as his pale eyes narrowed at Stan. He then pointed to the last inanimate object in the room to take flight, which was his prized computer on the table near his bed.

"No, dude! Not the computer!!" came a voice on the wind, a voice so familiar to Stan that it stopped his heart for a second. "…Huh?" he gasped.

On cue, the large hardware machine came lunging at Stan. He dodged it just in the nick of time and watched as it slammed itself into the bedroom door.

"…Eh well, I was getting a Dell anyway," came that eerily familiar voice again.

Stan eyed the ceiling, trying to pinpoint the strange sound. "…Kyle? Is that you?"

"Stan! Lookout!!" screamed Cartman, who noticed something that Stan didn't at that moment. Stan was too late to see, but the creature donning Kyle's clothes and skin threw his arms out towards Stan. Pushed by an invisible force, Stan himself was thrown halfway across the room, and his back landed hard onto the wall. He slid to the floor, out cold.

"Leff git ou'a here!" muffled a terrified Kenny, as both he and Cartman crawled on their hands and knees toward the doorway.

The hovering beast was still on a rampage as he declared loudly, "No one escapes me! NO one! NO… oh… crap… not now."

Suddenly, his self-made whirlwind began to die down, and he himself was losing energy. Cartman and Kenny watched silently as their assailant gracefully descended from the air and back into bed. He didn't even have to move the blanket over himself; it covered him all by itself. He was soon fast asleep, and as his rampage died down, so too did his telekinesis. All of the remaining objects in the air came raining down onto the floor, inanimate once again. Peace and quiet returned to the room at last.

"…Dude," whispered Cartman to Kenny, "I knew Jews made a mess o' things, but this is ridiculous."

Time seemed to pass slowly as Stan nearly slept through the experience. The shock that he felt while hitting the wall made his head light and dizzy, making it hard for him to regain consciousness.

"…Stan? …Stan, get up!"

He could swear that was Kyle's voice calling for him, but it must have been a dream. There was no way that he could have recovered from bird flu that quickly.

"Get up, dude!"

"Mmm… wha…?" Stan's oval eyes pried open as he finally awoke. He was still in the room, which was now demolished once again. At first his vision was blurry; but it looked like Kyle's shape was standing in front of him, surrounded in a pale blue halo of light. "K-Kyle?... Aw, dude. I just had the weirdest dream. I went to your house, and… everything went crazy."

"It's not a dream, dude. It's real. Look at me."

Stan rubbed his eyes to clear his vision. In an instant, the room was clear. Cartman and Kenny were still present, and Kyle's body was still lying unconscious in bed. But as Stan looked around, he noticed that the blue light hadn't faded away; it too was clearly visible right in front of him. And it was still shaped like Kyle! "…Dude!? What the… What's going on!?"

"I don't have much time, dude. I have to show you what's been going on."

Kyle's spirit then touched Stan's forehead, and all at once, his eyes glazed and went out of focus again. Everything went black, and he felt himself being spirited into another time and place in a heartbeat.

"Remember the night of Kenny's birthday party a week ago?"

The scene had drastically changed into last weekend, at Kenny's broken down house in the poorest corner of town. Inside the living room, there were construction paper cut-out banners saying "Happy Birthday, Kenny" on the wall, and tin beer cans were remodeled into party favors on the floor as there was no table. There was, however, a couch- an old tattered one that was well enough for at least two people to sit on.

There they were, all four boys in normal fashion, gathered in a circle to watch Kenny open up a blue-wrapped present. He noticed that it was nothing more than a brown wooden box, and furrowed his eyebrows in disappointment. "Wat de fupp iff viss?"

"Go ahead, Kenny. Open it up!" cheered Cartman, as it was his present to Kenny.

The orange boy lifted the lid of the box to reveal what looked like a game board, only it had numbers and letters written all over it in an unorthodox fashion. There was only one other piece to go with it: a small triangular tool with a telescopic lens in its center.

"It's a Weegie board," mispronounced Cartman. "You ask it all kinds o' questions, like if your friends are too Jewy, and it tells ya exactly everything you wanna know. It's coo'!"

"Dude, an Ouija board?" frowned Kyle worriedly. "Aren't those things dangerous?"

"What's so dangerous about a board game?" wondered Stan, puzzled.

Kyle explained, "I've heard stories about those things; they get their powers from the Underworld, and if you ask too many questions, it'll open up a portal and let out an evil spirit and stuff."

"…Kyle, don't be such a pussy!" argued Cartman. "Go 'head Kenny, try it out."

"Opay," shrugged Kenny curiously.

"You guys go ahead, I'm gonna sit over here and watch," said Kyle as he hopped over to the tattered couch.

"Stan, you really gotta git a new boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend, fatass. Shuddup." With that, Stan and the other three grasped one corner of the triangle each. "Go ahead, Kenny. You start."

"Opay… Uh, Miffer Weejie? Will I effer be witch or famouff?"

To their surprise, the triangle began to move as if magically. "Dude, how is it doing that?" wondered Stan aloud. "It's probably just some magnet underneath," informed Cartman. Then to their awe, the triangle landed on the following letters in order: N-O-W-A-Y

"No… way? No way, Kenny! You're gonna be poor as crap forever!" laughed Cartman.

"Aww, fupp you Weejie!"

"Your turn, Stan."

"Okay… Mr. Ouija, is there a magnet underneath your triangle?"

Again, the triangle moved in a pattern: N-O

"No? Then how does this thing move?"

From the safety of the couch, Kyle responded, "It's magic, Stan. Dark magic."

"No comments from da peanut gallery," warned Cartman. "My turn now. Mr. Weegie, when will Stan and Kyle ever admit that they're gay for each other?"

Both Stan and Kyle grumbled as the triangle moved in a much longer formation this time: Y-O-U-S-P-E-A-K-F-O-O-L-I-S-H-N-E-S-S-Y-O-U-N-G-M-O-R-T-A-L-S

Together the trio read out, "You… speak… foolishness… young…mortals."

I-W-I-L-L-S-O-O-N-E-N-T-E-R-Y-O-U-R-W-O-R-L-D-A-N-D-D-E-S-T-R-O-Y-Y-O-U-A-L-L

"I… will… soon… enter… your… world… and… destroy… you… all."

"Ho-ho, this thing kicks ass," smiled an ignorant Cartman. "Kenny, it's your turn again."

But before Kenny even had a chance to ask a question, the needle moved yet again. This time, however, it moved with such a force that the boys had trouble keeping up with it. W-H-I-C-H-O-N-E-O-F-Y-O-U-I-S-T-H-E-P-U-R-E-S-T-O-F-S-O-U-L-S-?

"Which one of you is the purest of souls?" read Stan allowed, now convinced that there was something eerie going on here. "What does that mean?" He didn't mean to directly ask the board a question, but it seemed that Stan had activated its next course of lettering: I-M-U-S-T-F-E-E-D-O-N-A-P-U-R-E-S-O-U-L-G-I-V-E-I-T-T-O-M-E-N-O-W-!

The needle then began to spin in a circle, faster and faster, until it actually fell out of the boys' grips. They watched in amazement as the needle seemed to take a life all of its own, spinning uncontrollably on the board. But then, it spun so quickly that it jumped off of the board and onto the living room floor!

"Augh! It's alive!" yipped Stan in horror.

Cartman quickly rushed over to the dining room table, ripped off one of its few remaining legs, and held it up like a bat. "Kill it!" He then started to chase the possessed needle around the room as if it were a loose rodent. Together, he and the needle knocked over party favors, presents, and at once point the fat boy even whacked his bat into the living room television, shattering its screen. Kenny screamed in fury at this.

Just when things were at their most chaotic, Kyle suddenly flung himself over the needle with its board game box, trapping it. "Now, Cartman! Hurry!" The fat boy then proceeded to beat the box to a pulp, until it was nothing but splinters.

"Whew," Stan sighed as he wiped his brow in the aftermath. "Well, that sucked."

"I told you guys those things were dangerous," forewarned Kyle. "Maybe next time you should bring over Chutes and Ladders, Cartman."

"Yoo buys bwoke all my fuff!" moaned Kenny.

"I'm sorry Kenny," frowned Kyle mournfully. "I'll get you better presents, and a new TV. That's a promise. I'm just glad that this whole Ouija thing is done and over with."

He was, of course, wrong; the Ouija thing, as he put it, was just getting started. Something as invisible as a shadow crept up behind the boy while his back was turned, and eventually caught up with him that night. The next thing Kyle would see was blackness, which was what Stan had now seen before warping back to the present. It all happened so fast that he almost lost consciousness again.

"And then this asshole demon came out of nowhere and kicked me out of my own body," explained Kyle's faintly blue spirit, "and I've been stuck in between worlds ever since."

Even Cartman seemed distraught by this story. "Kicked outta your own body? Weak dude; not even it likes you."

"That's not me, fatass!" replied an angry spirit as he pointed to the creature in his bed. "His name is Memphis- something, and he wants to bring the Apocalypse on all of us, starting with our town!"

"You mean… this whole thing is our fault?" frowned Stan sympathetically.

"It gets worse, dude. Every time he uses his powers, I get weaker and smaller. If he keeps this up, I might fade away forever."

Stan's mouth then gaped in horror. "…I'm not gonna let that happen. Mark my words, dude, I'll get that bastard out of your body as soon as possible."

"That's not going to happen," cooed a sinister voice nearby. The boys, including Kyle's spirit, turned around to see that the demon within Kyle's body was now wide awake, and smiling. "You will all soon burn in unholy fire, and I shall claim this world as my own! Mwahahahaha."

"You sonuvabitch! Gimmie back my body!"

"That's it, boy; you're grounded." The creature then clutched his hand toward Kyle, as if he was grabbing him from afar. Kyle's spirit yelped as he felt himself being dragged under the bed and through the floor by his own shadow. "…You three our next."

"Run, Fred! Save yourself!" screamed Cartman as he was the first to run out of the room in terror. Kenny soon followed after him, dragging Stan by his sleeve forcefully. The beast waited until he was alone again before resuming his beauty sleep.

*

Stan was heading home again, only this time he hung his head in shame, while the other two boys followed closely behind. "I can't believe it. We actually summoned a demon, and now the whole world's gonna go to hell."

"Fred says he's sorry for you, Stan."

"…Gee, thanks Cartman."

"No, Fred's sorry for you. Not me!"

"Watt're we bonna boo about Pyle?"

Stan replied to his muffled friend, "I gotta go back online and look up Demons. There's gotta be a way to get rid of that thing before it kills Kyle."

"Fred says-"

"I'm not talking to you OR Fred, Cartman! Why don't the two of you just leave us the hell alone!?"

"Ay, I'm not following you or anything. I'm following mah new best friend."

"…Oh yeah?" Stan had finally caught onto Cartman's game, and pointed across the street. "Look there, Cartman. I think Fred's heading back to your house already."

"What??" Cartman, fooled by the trick, glanced across the street and called out, "Ay! Come back here, Fred! We still gotta stop off fer Cheesy Poofs!"

Stan and Kenny watched as their bewildering third wheel hopped away. "…Come on, Kenny. We got some homework to do."

Kenny loyally followed after Stan, but not without complaining, "Aww, fupp. I hape homeworp on weepends."

CONTINUED…