Well, here we are again, and I'm back with the supposed companion fic to Half-Blind Lethal Snake. This one is longer, doi, and hopefully as funny as the last one. Maybe more. So, read and enjoy, peoplez.

Disclaimer: I don't own South Park. But I'd love to. * sadface *

Craig was strange when he was bored. He had some weird ideas when he was bored. And once he latched onto one of those ideas, he wouldn't let it go.

That's why, when he was going downstairs with two squealing blondes attached to his legs, he kept his balance and forced himself onwards determinedly toward the kitchen phone.

It started like this:

Craig had Tweek and Butters over at his house again, having found out after their first grouping that the three of them together was the funniest and best thing to exist since Red Racer, seeing as they had canceled it so long ago. And funny was great in Craig's opinion. Anything that could make him laugh was way better than being bored and impassive all the time. So, it was thus that he invited them over on the week that his parents were out visiting family members up north. Craig had thought it was retarded and didn't go.

Besides, they had the entire week off because some idiot had blown up the science department. There were definite signs of Stan and the others in there, the stupid jerks. Well, at least they were good for something.

He sat on his bed, scowling slightly as he stared at Butters dozing on his bed and Tweek playing with the tassels of the hat he had stolen off of Craig's head. This was wrong. They needed something to cut the boredom. Something...spontaneous.

"We need to have a sleepover." He said suddenly. "Now."

Tweek looked up at him, and Butters gave a snort, rolling over and falling off of the bed. He sat up, blinking blearily from the opposite edge.

"Wha?"

Craig glanced at them both, his face determined. "We need to have a sleepover. We can't waste this entire week like this. I'm getting bored."

Tweek and Butters looked at each other, worried. 'Bored' was the word that told them that it was time to worry. Butters started first. "Well, I'ah can't...I'ah'm grounded for th' rest of th' week. My dad would get mighty sore at me if I'ah stayed here for a sleepover..."

Tweek was next. "Umm, uh, I d-don't wanna ask m- ngh! My p-parents...wh-what if I bother th-them or get th-them mad, and then, then, then..." Tweek was already working himself up into a freak-out. "Oh God, what i-if they get really -ngh- p-pissed off and toss m-m-me out -gah! I-into the streets an-and don't let me b-b-back in and -ngh- disown me and I'll b-b-become a hobo! I'll ha-have to live on the -augh-streets and die from AIDS! SWEET JESUS, I DON'T WANT AIDS! ARGHHH!" The twitchy blonde was already yanking on his hair, shuddering violently.

Craig just raised an eyebrow as Tweek shrieked and let his stare bore into him; only ten seconds passed before Tweek's panic wilted under the skeptic gaze, his cries petering off pathetically as his twitches slowed down. There was an awkward pause.

"D-don't want AIDS." Tweek repeated softly.

"Dude, why would your parents toss you out for one question?" Craig asked. Butters nodded at this observation. "Yeah! Even my dad's not tha' mean t'me. Well," he looked up thoughtfully. "the groundin' ain't too bad, really..."

The raven gestured toward Butters." See? He has the most insane people for parents and they haven't kicked him out yet."

Tweek looked hesitant. "B-but...the AIDS..." he said tentatively.

"Do you use dirty needles?"

"Gah! N-NO!"

"You whoring yourself out?"

"SWEET JESUS, NO!"

Craig leaned back, satisfied. "There. You can't get AIDS." He dug into his jacket pocket, pulling out his phone. "So now I'm gonna call both your parents and get you permission."

"No!" Butters and Tweek both lunged at him, knocking him to the far side of the bed. "I'ah don't wanna get grounded!" Butters wailed. "The AIDS!" Tweek shrieked.

"I thought we went over this!" Craig yelled, trying to keep the blondes from crawling over him and take his phone. Then Butters latched onto his arm, yanking the phone away from him and passing it to Tweek, who quickly jumped back and flung it out of Craig's open window with a loud scream.

Craig froze.

It seemed to hit Tweek what he had just done, and his eyes widened in fear. Butters had the same terrified expression, and he leapt off of the raven, going over to Tweek's side. They huddled together fearfully, gripping each other like scared kittens. Craig sat up, staring at his window. Why had that even been open? He looked at the blondes and then rushed to the door, snatching his hat off of Tweek's head.

"There's another phone in the fucking kitchen!"

"Noooo!"

Somehow they had latched onto his legs, and now he was going down the stairs with them attached. Craig gritted his teeth, gamely holding onto the banister for safety and balance, (which he desperately needed) and trying to be somewhat gentle with them as he went down each step. He reached the bottom without any serious mishaps, and started making his way to the kitchen and its promise of a working phone, dragging along his heavy burdens. They were crying something about groundings and hobos, but Craig only ignored them and kept going, finally reaching out a hand to the phone attached to the wall of the kitchen. The blondes squealed, jumping up to grab it, but Craig only dialed a number quickly, holding the phone to his ear.

Everyone fell silent as it rang, Butters and Tweek keeping to that age-old rule to shut up when there was a suspenseful phone call going on. It rang and rang, and finally someone picked up. "Hello?"

"Hey, Mr. Tweak." Craig said casually, taking in Tweek's yanking of his hair. "Thanks for letting Tweek come over."

"Sure, it's great he gets out of the house sometimes. Y'know, Tweek is like coffee..."

Craig drowned out the following coffee-metaphor with mindless mind-whistling, waiting until the other was finished. "Hmm, yeah, that's very enlightening."

"Really, now?" Mr. Tweak sounded pleasantly surprised. Not many people must really listen to his metaphors... "Why're you calling? Is Tweek okay? Does he need to be picked up?"

"No, no, it's cool. I was wondering if he could stay over for a couple of days, y'know? I got a couple of friends over, and it'd be awesome if Tweek could stay over with us. Like a vacation."

The voice on the other line sounded a bit worried. "A couple of days? How long? Tweek gets panic attacks sometimes, you know...can you handle that? Do you have coffee there?"

"We got plenty of coffee, and I can keep Tweek pretty calm. We'll call you if we need any help, alright? I just thought he'd go home when school opens up again." Craig said, leaning back on the kitchen wall, a grin on his face as he spoke.

"Well, alright. You boys have a good time, okay?"

"Sure. Thanks." Craig hung up, shoving his middle finger in front of Tweek's face. "Fucking easy, see?"

"W-what about me?" Butters asked in a quavery voice.

Craig blew out a breath, taking his hat off and dragging a hand through his hair. "Alright..." He turned back to the phone, taking a deep breath, and bracing himself. Another number dialed, and the phone was ringing again. There was a shorter pause until someone picked up. "Yes?"

"Good afternoon, Mr. Stotch. This is Craig Tucker calling." The raven started, his voice respectful. Tweek and Butters nearly fainted at the sound of the usual apathetic tone disappearing from his voice.

"Alright, what do you need?"

"Well, I was doing some Algebra homework, and I happened to get stuck. Math isn't really my thing. So your son offered to help me, seeing as he's really good in school." Craig layered his voice with all the flattery he could manage without throwing up, his voice honey-sweet and completely fake. "But the thing is, my class was going to have a big test, and it was interrupted by the science department blowing up; I'm certain you heard about that, sir?"

"Of course, yes. Horrible."

"I know, it's a real tragedy. So," Craig continued, secretly miming shoving a finger down his throat. "I thought that maybe Butters could help me study this week, but he didn't want to disturb you going back and forth, and neither do I, especially seeing as he's grounded. We both know that you are an extremely busy and important man." Okay, he was really going to throw up now.

Craig could almost see Mr. Stotch puffing out his chest. "Yes, I am. What do you need, son?"

"I was wondering if he could stay for the week, until school opened up again, and help me. Butters is really smart, and I figured if I'm going to pass this test, he's the best person to help me. You raised a very smart guy, sir." There wasn't even a following pause.

"Well, of course, I don't see anything wrong with that. He can stay if he wants." The man was almost bursting with smug self-importance. "If you still need more help with your homework, I was quite the mathematician back in my day, you know."

"I'll be certain to call if I need more help. Have a good day, sir." Craig hung up again and turned to face the amazed blondes, stretching his arms out.

"Yes, I am God. Now, let's see where you guys are gonna sleep."

Later...

"...created the sound of madness, wrote the book on pain, somehow I'm still here, to explain, that the darkest hour never comes in the night..."

"Fuck yes! Come on, Butters, hit those damn buttons! Keep going, Tweek!" Craig yelled.

"I'ah'm tryin', Craig!" Butters cried.

"Gahhh! I'm g-gonna diieeeeeee!" Tweek wailed.

Craig kept staring at the television, furiously pushing the buttons on his fake guitar. God only knew why the hell he'd chosen this song on expert, but he was gonna keep on going, or get freakin' boo-ed off, dammit! Their little basement Rock Band group wasn't doing too hot, but they were getting better. Although, really, the only reason they hadn't lost yet was because Craig's playing was keeping their heads above the water.

"Aaaaaaaaaaargh, come on! Fuck!" Craig cursed. "We're almost there!" Butters and Tweek both joined him in a loud war cry, trying to keep pace with the directions on-screen. More missed notes, more music passing by, Craig rapidly hitting buttons and keeping his perfect score, then finally it was over. Tweek and Craig held the last note, and Butters finished off the last drum beat. The raven flipped off the television with both hands.

"Hahaha! What now! Take that, bitches! The Half-Blind Lethal Snakes kick some fucking ass!"

Butters slumped over the drum set. "Whew, tha' was hard..." He looked up at the clock hanging on the wall. "An' it's getting' really late, you guys. It's almost twelve a' night."

There was a pause, and all three looked at each other. It was Tweek who spoke up.

"C-can we do it again?"

Craig grinned. "Fuck yeah."

The next morning (Monday)

"Put it out, put it out, put it out!"

Craig flapped the cloth around the growing flame, his movements jerky and hurried. "I'm trying, I'm trying!" He yelled back to the panicky Tweek, who was screaming his head off. His cloth caught fire, and Craig cursed and dropped it, almost about to stomp on it before he remembered that he was barefoot. "Shut the fuck up, Tweek and get something to put this shit out!"

Butters came rushing around him, tossing a bowlful of water onto the flaming pan, and dropping a bundle of wet napkins on the cloth. After everything was put out, they stood there, hearing the smoke alarm blare and staring down at the wet, sizzling mess on the stove and floor. A couple of moments passed, and then the smoke alarm shut off. Butters looked at Craig.

"This is what happens when ya stay up all night an' then ya try t'cook eggs."

"Well, excuse me." Craig leaned on the counter, looking at what used to be some eggs cooking in a pan. "Alright, lemme clean this up, and then I'll go to sleep or something."

There was about ten minutes of cleaning up, and then the kitchen was returned to its previous clean state, or as was before Craig tried to cook with not a single ounce of sleep holding him up. Craig trooped upstairs into his room, collapsing onto his bed when he got there. There was a pause, and then he remembered. "Oh...yeah, I'm sorry, I forgot we were all gonna sleep in the living room...let me go put out the covers..."

Two bodies flopped down on either side of him and Craig glanced over at them each in turn, seeing Tweek and Butters sprawled out on the bed. He shrugged. "Well, alright."

Then he fell asleep.

Tuesday night

They huddled on the couch in the darkened living room, staring at the flickering television screen. Butters held a bowl of popcorn, and Tweek was sucking loudly on a straw Craig had stuck in his thermos. Craig leaned back in between them, hearing the creepy creaking footsteps emanate from the television. They came closer, and closer, and then,

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaghhh!"

Tweek and Butters matched the scream from the television as they jumped up, Tweek to run away shrieking into the kitchen, and Butters to drop the popcorn bowl and running to hide his head into the pillows of the next couch. Craig sighed loudly, pausing the movie and leaning over to flick the lights on.

"Come on, guys, this is the third movie we've watched already! It's not real!"

Butters looked up hesitantly. "But it's so scary!"

Craig sighed again, getting up to lift Butters and put him back where he was. "It's not real, and the bad guy always dies at the end. Either that or he's always caught. And if a monster decides to poke his head out of my television, then I'll kick it's ass back, 'cuz this is my house, and it'll be under my roof, so it's gonna follow my damned rules." He gave Butters a pillow to cover his face the next time he got scared. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go get Tweek. He's probably under the table again."

Tweek was actually not under the table, instead having somehow tucked himself into the small empty space in the pantry, and he had screamed when Craig had opened the door, nearly beaning the raven in the head with a can of beans. After throughly assuring Tweek that no, it was not real, no, if the bad guy died it would not come back, and no, he was not an impostor wearing Craig's skin, they were all back on the couch, facing the paused screen. Craig picked up the remote, a little hard to do because of the two blondes clutching for dear life onto his arms.

"Alright, let's try this again."

Wednesday afternoon

"I-I'ah don't think this fits, Craig..." Butters picked at his shirt, which hung loosely on his small frame, then prodded at the pants he was wearing, held up by a belt. Craig pushed back shower-damp hair, rummaging in his closet.

"Well, you guys are a little too big for my sister's clothes, so this' what you'll have to wear until I wash the clothes you guys brought. Unless you want to go get more from your houses?" he asked.

Butters shook his head. "No, that might give my dad a reason to make me stay or somethin'. An' I'ah don't wanna leave jus' yet."

"Alright then."

A call came from the bathroom. "C-Craig? Do you h-have something for -ngh- m-me now?"

"Yeah, I got it!" Craig yelled back, handing a bundle to Butters. "Here, go give that to Tweek so he can finally come out."

Butters trotted off, and Craig closed his closet door, fluffing his head with a towel. Technically, he should have seen this coming, but he didn't, and now the other two were just gonna have to go around wearing his clothes until later. He already had the washer running, so it wouldn't be too long. A ring caught his attention, and he looked up. Someone was ringing the doorbell. Great, what now? He thought.

Going down the stairs and to the front door, he pushed back an irritated growl, his usual apathetic scowl dominating his face. Opening the door, it revealed Stan, Kyle, Kenny, and the fatass.

"Hey, Craig!" Kyle said, a smile on his face.

"Yeah? What d'you guys want?" The raven said moodily.

"We just got Infinite Undiscovery and we wanted to play it, and you have the biggest television in the neighborhood." Kyle explained.

"Yeah, and Token's being a faggot and won't let us play on his." Cartman added.

"Can we play it on yours?" Kyle asked.

"No." replied Craig promptly, crossing his arms.

"Aw, man, why not?" Stan demanded, frowning. Craig opened his mouth to shot something back about the last time they used his television, they'd somehow managed to get two shoes and a knife embedded into the screen, when a whine came from the stairs.

"Craig, th-the pants won't fit, e-e-even with the belt you gave me!" Tweek and Butters came rushing down the stairs, both still damp, and Tweek clad only in Craig's oversize shirt, which came down somewhere around his thighs. "I -ngh- need s-some-" They paused at seeing the people at the door. Butters recovered quickly.

"Hiya, guys!" He waved cheerfully.

All four were staring at them incredulously, then switched their gazes from the two blondes to Craig, then back again. There was a pause, and then Craig turned back to them, scowling at them.

"I said no." Then he slammed the door in their faces. He still heard Kenny's wondrous exclamation, though.

"Dude, Craig is God!"

Thursday night

A mess of sheets and pillows created a fort-like creation between two couches and four chairs, and Butters stood up in the small open space in the middle, wearing a paper hat.

"I'ah'am king of th' fort!" He cried out loudly. Tweek came up from behind, stealing his 'crown'. "N-no, I'm king of the fort!"

"Hey! That's my crown! Where's yours?" Butters protested, reaching to get it back. Tweek looked down morosely.

"...s-sat on it..."

"Well, that's mine. Get your own." Butters got it back, putting it delicately on his head. Tweek jumped on him, and they went down into the fort, wrestling for control of the crown, and the fort.

"Hey!" Craig yelled out. The other two looked up, seeing Craig looming over the sheet castle, a bigger paper hat on his head. "You're both wrong. I'm king of the fort."

The blondes looked at each other, then back at him. "No you're not." Butters said.

Craig whipped out a Nerf gun from behind his back, pointing it at them. "Yes, I am."

There was a pause, then the raven was pelted by an unholy barrage of pillows to the face. He dropped the gun, stepping back as he shielded his face. When he was able to look up again, Butters was holding the gun, pointing at him, and Tweek was smug.

"W-we're kings of th-the fort."

Craig put up his hands, and Tweek motioned for his hat. It was handed over, and Butters waved the gun at him. "Dance."

"What?"

The ground in front of his feet was hit by two spongy bullets, bouncing harmlessly in front of him. "I'ah said dance, peasant!"

The raven put on a face of mock terror, dancing an impromptu jig. Tweek laughed. "S-sing the circus thing, l-like with th-the -augh- c-clowns and stuff!"

Craig sighed, spinning around. "Do do do-do-do-do do do do-oo..."

The other two laughed, and Butters let the point of the gun drop a little. That's when Craig took his chance, lunging into the entrance of the fort. He crawled over to Tweek and Butters' feet, hauling them down and yelling, "This is an overturn of authority! Surrender all weapons and no one will get hurt!"

The blondes went down squealing, and the raven yanked the Nerf gun from their grasp, crouching by them and prodding them with the fake gun. Plucking the hat from Tweek's head, he settled it back on his own, a victorious grin on his face.

"Okay, now I'm king."

Friday afternoon

"Okay okay, shh, shh!" Butters waved for them to be silent, holding the phone close to his chest. Tweek giggled once, then sat closer, putting his face nearer to the phone. Craig gestured for him to continue, and Butters took a couple of deep breaths, dialing a number but making sure to add in the star 67 in the beginning. A lazy voice was heard on the other end, and Butters put it on speakerphone.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Kenny? I-is that you?" Butters said in a quavery voice, his voice a complete imitation of a girl who's been crying for a while, his stuttering accent dropping off completely. "This is Marissa. You gave me your number. Do you...do you remember me?"

"Uh...yeah! Yeah, that was a great time we had, uh..." Kenny faltered for a second.

"Last month." Butters supplied.

"Oh yeah, totally."

"Well," Butters added a sob to his voice, and beside him, Craig and Tweek were holding back laughter. "I-I'm...I'm pregnant!"

"What?" Kenny sputtered, adding hesitantly, "Do you know know for certain? A-are you sure it's mine?"

"I went to the doctor last week, and the tests came back positive." Butters paused for a moment, sniffling. "Yes, I'm certain it's yours...I haven't done it with anybody else!"

Kenny could vaguely be heard cursing on the other line before he came back. "Are you gonna...keep it?"

"I can't kill an innocent baby!" Butters cried, sounding every inch the indignant woman. Craig was shuddering with repressed laughter, his face red as a beet, and Tweek was rolling around the floor, a fist shoved in his mouth.

"Well, what do you want me to do?" Kenny asked, almost desperately. "Do you, like, need anything?"

"I want you to be the father, Kenny. I want my baby to grow up with a dad who's there for him," Butters pleaded. "I want us to be a family-"

Craig and Tweek couldn't take it anymore, bursting out in hysterical gales of laughter, and Craig flopped onto the floor, joining Tweek in his floor-rolling. Butters glared at them, his voice dropping back into its usual tones. "Aw, come on, y'guys, it was gettin' real good now..."

"Butters?" Kenny sounded shocked, then angry. "Is that...? Craig put you up to this, didn't he? Craig, I swear to God, I'm gonna kick your fucking ass when we get back to school! You hear me! What kinda shit are you putting me through, I was about to have a fucking heart attack over here! Goddammit, you son of a bitch, you better run, because I will fucking beat your ass until you beg for mer-" Butters hung up, cutting off Kenny and his threats, his own mirth ringing out.

"H-he sure soun...sounded mad, Craig." Butters choked out through laughs. "Wh-what if he r-really beats you up...?"

Craig was too caught up in laughing his ass off to answer, and he only rolled around until he couldn't breathe anymore. Tweek was quivering in maddening laughter, little tears coming out of his eyes. Finally they were all calm, and Craig sat up.

"Alright, my turn. Hand it over."

Butters gave him the phone, and Craig shushed them, swallowing back his last gales of mirth. Putting in star 67 again, he dialed another number and put it on speaker. Kyle picked up, sounding more formal than he usually would, seeing as Craig had called the house phone. "Hello?"

Craig put on a Canadian accent, stretching out his words. "Is this the Brofovloski residence?"

"Yes, who is this?"

"This is Phillip Thompson, of the department of Canadian Affairs, calling in accordance to our newest law, see. I understand you have a young adopted Canadian living with you, named Ike?"

"Yes..." Kyle sounded wary.

"The prime minister has called for all people of direct Canadian descent to be taken back to Canada, you know, for rehabilitation into proper society, yah, and Ike will have to be taken back." Craig said, sounding both pompous and slightly arrogant.

Kyle immediately went on the defense. "What? The last time that happened, it turned out Saddam Hussein was tricking you all! How do you know that's not happening again?"

"No, no, Hussein is dead, and we have checked the prime minister to make sure. It is a proper law, now. Ike will be picked up later during the week, as we have already finalized the necessary arrangements with your, ah, government."

"Wait, wait, wait! You can't do that! You can't take my brother away like that! You almost did it last time, but I won't allow it!" Kyle yelled angrily. Butters was starting to crack, his face pink, and Tweek was biting down on the lid of his thermos. Craig almost couldn't keep the grin off his face as he replied.

"Well, as a minor, Ike is under our jurisdiction, you see, so it doesn't matter what you say. The law is the law."

Kyle was ready to blow up; he'd always had a short temper. "My father is a lawyer! We'll fight you in court, and we won't let you win! Ike is part of our family, so screw you and your laws! You're not getting Ike!"

Craig was grinning from ear to ear now. "You can try, but I don't think you'll get very far, eh? Sorry, buddy!"

"I'm not your buddy, pal!" Kyle screamed back.

All three of them shrieked with laughter at the hysterical response, and Craig even dropped the phone on the couch, howling madly. Kyle was still heard over the speaker, though.

"Wh-what? Hello? Who the fuck is this? Hey!"

Craig picked up the phone again, stuttering over his words. "Y-you...are...a-an idiot." Then he dropped the phone, roaring with laughter. Kyle was steaming mad.

"You bastard, what the fuck? What the hell was that for?"

"'Cause y-you're -ngh- J-Jewish!" Tweek forced out, sending them into more gales of mirth.

"Craig, you sick son of a bitch, wait 'till I see you again; I'm going to punch you so hard, you gonna forget your own freaking name! I gonna make you cry like a girl, you chain-smoking basta-"

The raven hung up on him, and they laughed until they thought their stomachs were about to burst open. Craig recovered first, wiping his eyes.

"Okay, who's next?"

Saturday morning

"Put it out, put it out, put it out!"

"How the fuck do you set pancakes on fire?" Craig shouted, tossing a large rag over the flames in the pan and only succeeding in setting that on fire too. "What the fuck?"

Butters came rushing in, throwing a large bowl of water at the stove and putting it out. The smoke alarm was ringing again, and the house was filled with smoke. Soon, the alarm shut off, and Butters turned to Craig.

"Why are y'still tryin' to cook?"

"I've made pancakes before!" Craig protested. "I don't usually set things on fire!"

"No, but I'ah bet y'don't usually fill th' entire pan with batter t' make a giant pancake, either! What didja think was gonna happen when ya couldn't flip it?"

"Well, I'm sorry, but I just wanted some big pancakes!"

Tweek sniffed. "I-I'm hungry..."

Craig got a guilty look on his face, and he looked apologetically at Butters, swallowing his manly pride. "Do...do you know how to make pancakes?"

Butters shoved his tongue out at him, and turned to clean up the mess on the stove, rolling up his sleeves. "Yeah. Now, go make some coffee or somethin'. Unless y'think you'll set that on fire too."

"Don't gotta rub it in my face." The raven muttered, flipping him off.

Sunday early morning, like around eight or something

"Come on, Craig, wake up!"

Craig mumbled something unintelligible, turning over on the bed they all shared. Butters nudged him impatiently. "Come on, I'ah got breakfast ready an' everythin'!"

Tweek jumped on the bed, miraculously not spilling a drop of coffee from his thermos. "W-wake up, wake up, -ngh- w-wake up!"

Craig ignored them, still half-snoring. It was way too early to wake up, and he was still deep in the land of dreams. Butters and Tweek poked and prodded him eagerly, bouncing on the bed as they pulled and tugged at him. "Craaaaaaaaig!" They called. "Wake uuuup!"

The raven snorted sleepily, clutching his pillow tightly, and muttering again. The blondes leaned in close.

"What?"

Craig snorted again. "But mum, I looove peanut butter and jelly waffles..." he whined, then he tossed and turned onto his back, snoring loudly.

Butters and Tweek looked at each other and laughed, both of them grabbing one of the raven's legs and hauling him off of the bed. Craig hit the ground with a 'thump', looking up blearily. "Wha? Wha' time is it?" Then his face flopped down again and he was asleep. Butters and Tweek just kept on laughing.

Later that afternoon

Butters and Tweek both hung onto Craig, wailing loudly.

"But I'ah don't wanna go!" The first one cried. "I w-w-was having -ngh- f-fun!" The second one whimpered. Craig patted them both on the head, all of them standing by the front door.

"Yeah, I know, I know, I was having fun too, but school's tomorrow, and your parents already called to get you back. You have to go, or you'll get in trouble."

They looked up at him with teary eyes. "W-we can come -erk- b-back, right?" Tweek pleaded.

Craig rolled his eyes. "Duh. I'm always bored without you guys around. Besides, we see each other during school; it's not like we're a hundred miles from each other, right?"

They nodded hurriedly, and Craig gently pulled them off. "Come on, you're gonna leave bruises on me." The blondes let go reluctantly, and the raven grinned at them. "And next time, we can egg Cartman's house and leave him creepy messages on his cell phone. Alright?"

Tweek and Butters brightened up considerably, and Butters asked excitedly, "And y'won't cook anymore?"

Craig sighed. "Right. I'll stay away from the stove while you're here."

They squealed, and Craig opened the door, letting them out. Tweek and Butters took off down the street after another quick group hug, and Craig watched them go. He couldn't wait until they came back again. He paused, then frowned.

"I'm bored again."

A/N: "Sound of Madness" by Shinedown, "The Entertainer". In the case that this isn't the same internationally, *67 is what you dial first to hide what your phone number is from caller ID. Forts are the greatest inventions since the birth of Jesus Christ, yo. Yes, I have done what Craig did with pancakes, but mine was with an omelet. I've set fire to popcorn in the microwave, too. Don't put nine eggs in one pan, people! That's bad! "But mum, I looove peanut butter and jelly waffles..." was originally, "But mum, I looove peanut butter and jelly cookies..." from My Cat Loki, and I take no credit for that amazing line, even though I've said some pretty crazy shit while I was half-asleep.