Leopold Butters Scotch. What can I say? I love the little faggot. He's just so, so… he's damn adorable. The way he rubs his knuckles together and how he'd put pink flower clips in his hair to keep it out of his eyes and the way he would give half of his freaking food to a stray dog. When I'd wake up I the middle of the night and catch him watching re-runs of The Flintstones and Pink Panther.

The kid was so sweet and innocent; it's really amazing how he'd go for guy like me. I mean, well, I'm a man whore and he probably didn't know what the hell sex was when I met him! And Cartman, that fat asshole, would always beat up on him, so I had to stick up for the kid. I guess maybe he saw me as a good guy rather than a poor bastard.

So I'm pretty fucking lucky. My little Butterscotch. I didn't deserve a guy like him. I deserved to live my life alone on the streets, just like a stray dog. But Butters loves stray dogs. I feel bad, the way I'd die all the time. Butters never got over it, he always got scared. Kyle and Stan eventually would just brush it off and say their lines and be on their way. But not Butters. Butters cared.

I'm sorry Butters. I'm sorry I died so young. I'm sorry I left you in that shitty house. I'm sorry you have to sit outside and feed the stray dogs all by yourself. I'm sorry Cartman's kids are little butt fuckers and throw eggs at you (Don't worry I scare the living shit out of them at night). I'm sorry you loved a man whore like me.

I love you Butterscotch.

Yours forever,

Kenny McCormick

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How I'd imagine Kenny would write a letter. 