Inspired by the fanfic "Unusual Suspects", by Myro, I have written this little(?) story. Enjoy. (Btw, SPDA stands for South Park Detective Agency. As if you couldn't figure that out.)
SPDA ========= A figure walked up to a newsstand, wearing a large hat tilted over his face and a large trenchcoat, and began browsing the selection at the newsstand. He selected one each of all the tabloids, slipped them into his trenchcoat, and then ran off. The vendor noticed, and started yelling. "Stop! Thief!" Nobody took any notice, since Officer Barbrady wasn't anywhere around, and besides, the thief was out of sight. ========= Officer Barbrady looked over some papers at the police station (of which he was the only officer). Mostly boring reports. Some dude's cow was missing, the bartender claimed that Mr. McCormick had stiffed him, there was a large theft at a newsstand... This caught Barbrady's eye. A theft? South Park, as weird a town as it was, didn't get a whole lot of thefts. Hell, it didn't get a whole lot of crime at all. Well, unless you counted that chicken fucking spree...but still. A theft? "Hmmm," he said aloud, for no reason other than to hear his own voice. "This is interesting." He continued reading the report. The thief hadn't left any sort of clue at the scene, and the theft itself was actually pretty small...really, tabloids? Junk news? Why would anybody want to steal junk news? Still, a theft was a theft, and it needed to be investigated and punished. And Barbrady knew just the people to recruit for help. ========= "I don't believe this," Kyle groaned, sinking into his chair. "It's summer break! Why did Barbrady recruit us for detective duty during summer break? Why not recruit us when we have school, so we can miss it?" "Remember, he's an idiot," Stan said. "What I want to know," Kenny mumbled, waving one hand at the case file, "is why he recruited us for _this._ I mean, the only things stolen were a bunch of [address]" "Yeah," Kyle agreed. "That is, like, the most unserious crime ever." "Well, let's find the dude and punish him so we can get back to summer break," Stan said tiredly. "I'm dying to know how you punish tabloid theft, Stan," Kenny said. He didn't add anything about his accidental pun. "Uh...make him pay a fine?" "Okay, but we still don't know who did it, and there weren't any clues." "Who cares who did it?" Stan said wearily. "It's just trash newspapers. All that's ever in it is alien sightings." "Yeah, who the hell cares about those, anyway?" Cartman put in. Amazingly, he'd been silent up until then. "Aliens ain't real!" "Dammit Cartman, are we going to have to go over this again?" Kyle complained. "Visitors...are...real." "No they're not!" "They gave you a fucking anal probe!" "Did not!" "Did too, fatass!" "I'm not fat, I'm bigboned!" "Suuuuuuuure you are." "Will you two shut the flying fuck _up?_" Kenny demanded. "I am sick to death of hearing you argue." "Yeah," Stan agreed. "I'll shut up when HE--" Kyle jabbed a finger fiercely at Cartman "--stops denying that he had an anal probe!" "Kyle, calm down. If you don't, you're going to bust an artery or something, and then you're going to die, and that's _my_ job," Kenny said calmly. "Okay, okay, I'm calm," Kyle said, taking a deep breath. Before anyone could say anything else, the intercom buzzed. Kyle sighed and hit the button. "Yes?" "We've got another case for you, boys," Barbrady's stuffed-up-nose voice came over the intercom. Stan groaned and let his head drop onto the table. "_Another_ one?" he moaned. "What is it now?" "A murder," Barbrady replied casually. Stan jerked his head up so fast his neck nearly snapped, Kyle and Cartman looked concerned, and Kenny started rubbing his hands together eagerly. "All right!" Kenny said. "This is right down my alley, dudes. All I have to do is kill myself and go talk to the victim and then come back with the identity of the killer!" "One problem with that, Kenny," Kyle said. "What's that?" "The victim's not likely to know who killed him." Kenny's enthusiasm melted. "Oh." "Well, where'd it happen?" Stan asked. "Behind Tom's Rhinoplasty," Barbrady answered. The boys stood up in unison. "Okay, Officer Barbrady, we're on our way," Kyle said into the intercom, pulling on a trenchcoat as he did so. The other three followed suit, and then filed out of the room to go to Tom's Rhinoplasty. ========= As the boys headed for Tom's Rhinoplasty, they passed Mr. Garrison, who was reading a tabloid and having a conversation with Mr. Hat. "Aliens! Damn, I hate aliens," Mr. Garrison said. "Aliens are evil! Isn't that right, Mr. Hat?" "It sure is, Mr. Garrison," the puppet replied. "They should all go to hell and die! In that order!" "Excellent point, Mr. Hat," Mr. Garrison stated. The four boys rolled their eyes and continued on. ========= Quite a crowd had gathered around the body, probably the whole town. Of course, the whole town wasn't that many people. The boys pushed through the crowd to get a look at the body and to search for clues. Their reaction wasn't quite what you'd expect of three 8 year old detectives finding a corpse. Cartman went red in the face with anger, Kenny burst into hysterical laughter, and Kyle and Stan threw smug looks at Cartman. "Cartmannn," Kyle sang. "We _told_ you they were real!" "Goddammit!" was Cartman's profound reply. Kenny had just begun calming down, but was sent off into another fit of laughter. The reason they were reacting this way was that the corpse wasn't human. It was a visitor. It's hard to deny the existance of visitors when there's a dead one right in front of your face, but Cartman was trying. Hard. "Goddammit!" he repeated. "There-are-no-such-things-as-alieeeeeens!!" "Cartman," Kenny managed to get out between giggles, "there's a dead alien right there in front of you, and if you look around, you'll notice there's a couple aliens in the crowd." Cartman blinked, and looked at the crowd. Sure enough, two aliens were standing near the front of the crowd. Cartman stared at them. They stared back. "Dammit!" Cartman said. There went his denial. "Okay, enough of that," Kyle said with a grin. "We have to look for clues." To the crowd, he yelled, "Any witnesses?" One alien stepped forward. Kyle blinked. "O-kay," he said falteringly. "Um, did you know this per...alie...did you know the victim?" "Hnnnzzzintiiin." "Um, in English please?" The alien sighed, put one hand on his forehead, and shook his head. Out of nowhere, he pulled a small black thing on a strap, and put it over his mouth. "Yes, I knew him." "Okay, now um...did you see the actual murder happen?" "No. I just heard him scream." Kyle paused for a second to ponder how strange this had to look - an eight-year-old human, questioning an alien. Good thing they were in South Park, otherwise known as Weirdsville, USA. "Okay. So, I guess that means you can't identify the suspect." "No. I saw him fleeing, but he was wearing a ski mask and a wide-brimmed hat. He was somewhat tall and thin. By your measurements, of course." "Let's look for clues, dude," Stan said, before Kyle could ask the alien something else. "There aren't any," the alien said. "How do you know?" Stan asked suspiciously. "Jesus Christ, are you blind? I'm an alien. You know, hyper-intelligent being from a planet about twenty times more advanced than yours? If there were any clues, I or my friend Joe woulda found 'em already." "You sure about that?" Kenny commented. He had been examining the corpse during the whole conversation, and had found a bloody steak knife beside the body, obviously the weapon used in the murder. "No fingerprints," the alien said. "Already checked." "Ah shit," Kenny swore, putting the knife back down. He had really hoped to be able to prove an alien wrong. Before anyone could say anything else, Mr. Garrison pushed through the crowd and gasped, seeing the body. He put his free hand to his heart. "Oh my Lord! What a terrible, terrible thing to do! Poor, innocent soul!" Mr. Garrison said. The boys exchanged looks. "Uh, Garrison, a little earlier you said you hated aliens," Kyle said. "It's 'Mr. Garrison' to you, you little Jewish turd! Don't you kosher people learn respect for your elders?" "It's 'Garrison' until you say or do something I can respect," Kyle said coldly. "Dissing me and my religion is NOT the way to go about that!" "Well, you go to hell and die!" "Shut up, Garrison," Kyle said wearily, then turned to the other boys. "Well, I guess this means we're officially on the case," he said. "Like we have a choice," Stan grumbled. "What a way to spend summer vacation, investigating murders." "Well, it'll sure be a hell of a lot more interesting than just sitting around on our asses all summer," Kenny said. "I kind of need a break from my family anyway." He threw a look at Cartman. "Make one joke about my dad, fatass, and you die." "Do we have any suspects?" Stan asked, changing the subject before Kenny and Cartman could start fighting. "My first suspect is Garrison," Kyle said, shooting a glare at the teacher, who glared back. "C'mon, let's get to the station and call in all and any suspects for questioning," Kenny said professionally. ========= "Well, that didn't go too well," Stan remarked, as he, Kyle, and Cartman emerged from the questioning room and started down the hall. "Everyone had an alibi. Even Garrison." "So now we have no suspects. Brilliant of us," Kyle said sarcastically. "Hey, where's Kenny?" Stan asked, for the first time noticing that Kenny was not with them. "Stayed in the lounge," Kyle explained. "Said he had something to do that was more important than helping question suspects." "Porn?" "Probably." The group entered the lounge, to find Kenny sitting in a large, comfortable-looking chair, thoroughly absorbed in an issue of Playboy. Stan and Kyle exchanged a wicked grin. This was going to be good. They walked over to Kenny, who was, in his porn mode, completely oblivious to the outside world. Kyle silently held up three fingers, and started counting down. When he finished the countdown, he and Stan both yelled, at the top of their lungs, "HI, KENNY!!!!" Kenny yelped loudly and jumped about three feet in the air, almost tearing out a couple pages of porn, and landed on the floor directly in front of his chair. Getting up quickly, he glared at Stan and Kyle, who were in hysterics. "That wasn't funny," he growled. "Oh dude...dude...yes it was," Kyle managed to gasp through his laughing fit, leaning on one arm of Kenny's chair for support. "If you coulda seen it..." "I _will_ get you back for this," Kenny grumbled. "Mark my words." "We don't doubt you," Stan said, with just a touch of sarcasm lurking in his voice. Kenny threw a withering glare at the two, and then stormed off. Kyle grinned. "We ought to do that more often," he said. "That was classic." "Hey dudes," Cartman said as he walked into the lounge. Belatedly, Kyle realized that Cartman hadn't been in the room during the whole scene. Too bad. He would have loved it. "Hey, Cartman," Stan returned the casual greeting. "When I came in, Kenny walked past me like he wanted to kill someone. Either of you guys know why?" Stan and Kyle grinned. "Yeah," Kyle said. "We scared the shit out of him while he was reading porn. Man, you should've been here. It was hilarious." "Sure sounds like it was better than the news I got," Cartman said with a touch of disdain. "We got another murder. I'm beginning to think this is all a giant plot to get me to believe in aliens. If it is, it worked. I'm convinced." Kyle sighed, apparently oblivious to the fact that Cartman had just admitted that aliens were real. "Another murder? Where was it this time?" "Behind the school," Cartman said. "Well, let's go investigate," Stan said. "Shouldn't we go find Kenny?" "Dude, I don't think he's gonna wanna be around us for a while." ========= The scene was depressingly familiar. The dead alien on the ground, the printless steak knife nearby - and no clues whatsoever. Kyle scanned the crowd, noticed an alien or two. He recognized the witness from the last murder - his name turned out to be Dave - by the translator still strapped over the alien's mouth. "Hey, Dave!" he called. The alien walked over to the young detective. "Yes?" "Don't suppose you saw this one happen," Kyle asked hopefully. "Unfortunately, no," Dave replied. "Neither did Joe or Bob." "Joe? Bob?" Kyle raised an eyebrow. "You aliens have...um...pretty common names." "Common? What are you talking about? Where I come from, these names are unusual and exotic!" "Never mind." To the crowd, he yelled, "Did anybody see _this_ one happen?" The silence told Kyle all he needed to know. He sulked. "Well, that's just great," he said. "How the hell are we supposed to--" He was cut off by a muffled scream from somewhere nearby. He exchanged a sudden worried look with Stan. Both of them knew exactly who that was. "Kenny!" they yelled in unison, and ran off in the direction of the scream. By the time they got there, they saw Kenny's killer just running away, and the trademark steak knife near the orange-clad corpse. "Oh my God, they've killed Kenny!" Stan yelled. "You bastards!" Kyle finished the traditional exclamation. They stood in silence for a moment, staring at the bloodied body of their friend. "Killed in the line of duty," Stan said. "By the very murderer he was trying to help catch." Rats began to swarm over Kenny's body before Kyle could say anything. Kyle glared at them. "Ex_cuse_ me, we are trying to have a sentimental scene here! Do you mind?" he yelled at the rodents. A large gray one, who had just taken a bite out of Kenny's arm, looked up at Kyle. "Well, shooorry," he slurred around a mouthful of flesh. "He'sh our dinner." Stan and Kyle looked at each other strangely. They were both thinking the same thing - 'did that rat just _talk?_' "Uh," Stan said awkwardly, "are me and Kyle going crazy, or did you just talk?" "I just talked," the rat said after swallowing. "Is there a problem widat?" "Uhh...no, not exactly," Kyle faltered. "We're just, uh...not used to rats talking." "Oh." The rat returned his attention to tearing another chunk out of Kenny's arm. Stan, fighting queasiness, ventured a question. "Uh, why do you guys always eat him, anyway?" "He tastes good," another rat, female from the sound of her voice, piped up. "And there's always plenty of him to go around." Stan looked at Kyle, and Kyle could see that Stan was looking a little ill. "Okay, guys," Kyle said to the rats. "Fine. Eat him. Bon appetit, and all that. We're going to try to solve this case." "You sure you guys don't want any?" the gray rat called to Kyle and Stan as they walked away. Both boys promptly barfed. "No!" Kyle said loudly. "Suit 'cherself," the rat said with a shrug, and resumed his gnawing on Kenny's arm. Kyle and Stan left the scene as quickly as they possibly could. ========= In heaven, the angel Kenny was worried. No, worried wasn't exactly the word. Restless, distraught, frustrated...those would have suited his mood better. Nobody paid much attention - Kenny was occasionally like this after a death - but when the boy's constant pacing began to wear a rut in the cloud, St. Peter took notice. "What's up, Kenny?" he asked, coming up to the young angel. Kenny stopped pacing to look up at the saint. "I can't be dead [address]" he whined. "My friends are down there trying to solve a mystery, they need all the help they can get, and I'm stuck dead!" He glanced helplessly down at South Park through a hole in the clouds. "I should be down there, helping them out, not up here. But it's too damn soon for my resurrection!" St. Peter looked at the distressed little angel, and tried to figure out a way he could help. He found one. "You're right, it's too early for you to be resurrected," he said. "But why don't you just go down there as an angel? Not only will you be able to help your friends, but you'll have the added advantage of being able to fly - which, I'm sure, could come in handy while working on the case." Kenny just stood there and stared up at St. Peter, stunned. Now that it had been brought up, Kenny realized that he _could_ do that, couldn't he? He looked back down at South Park, back up at St. Peter, and down at South Park again. "Yes! Thank you!" He leapt out of the clouds, spreading his wings as he did so, and flew down to Earth again, very happy. He homed in on South Park and landed in front of the police station with the kind of practiced ease that only an experienced flyer could manage. Kenny, of course, was one of those experienced flyers. He entered the station, swore mildly on seeing that there wasn't enough room to fly, and made his way to the lounge. The others were gathered at the table. "So. What now?" Kyle. "No clues for any of the crimes, no suspects, and we've lost one of our detectives." Okay. So maybe Kenny was mischeivous. But he absolutely had to make his entrance here. "And you got him back," Kenny said loudly, walking into the lounge. The other three stared at him in surprise. "Kenny?" Stan asked. "Yep," Kenny replied, taking a seat at the table. "Why are you here as an angel, Kenny?" Kyle inquired. "Why not just your normal self?" "Too early to come back completely," Kenny said. "This is the only way I can be here at all. St. Peter suggested it." He shrugged - an interesting sight, given the presence of his wings. "Well, let's get on our case," Stan said, pulling out some folders. "Dude, we don't have _any_ clues, except that stupid steak knife that's always there, and there's no fingerprints on it. Dave always checks," Kyle said. "Well, to tell the truth, Dave's one of my suspects," Stan said, trying to look professional. "Stan, what are you smoking?" Kyle snorted. "Dave's our witness. Thanks to him, we know that the murderer is tallish and thin, which is more than we would've known otherwise. I'm sure he'd help us more if he could." "Yeah, but _he's_ tall and thin," Stan shot back. "And for all we know, aliens don't leave fingerprints, so he could've killed the two victims so far. And if you'll remember, the murderer killed Kenny!" "Kenny, you're the one who died, don't you know who killed you?" asked Kyle. "His face was covered, and I don't normally pay attention to who kills me anyway. For all I care, it could've been a bunch of spotted purple hamsters standing on each other's shoulders who killed me." "I'm not even gonna ask where that one came from," Kyle sighed. "Personally, though, I suspect Garrison. Alibi or not, I think he did it." "Okay, so our two suspects are Dave and Garrison. Anybody else have a suspect?" Stan asked. Cartman and Kenny were silent. "Okay. So, now what do we do? We've got our suspects, but I doubt either of 'em will tell the truth. They probably think that just because we're 8-year-olds, we'll buy any shit." "Cartman probably would," Kyle joked. "In both senses of the phrase." "Aaaaay!" "Look, let's just get this over with, please," Kenny said, already tired of the argument." "Yeah, Kenny's right," Kyle said. "All we know so far is that there's somebody out killing aliens one at a time with steak knives. A little before that, there was an unrelated tabloid theft." "Bingo!" Kenny yelled, without warning. "Huh?" "Dude, the theft and the murders aren't unrelated. Remember how Stan said that all that was ever in tabloids was alien sightings?" "Yeah," Kyle said cautiously. "Don't you get it? The same guy who's killing the visitors stole the tabloids, to figure out where aliens hung out, so he could kill them! The theft was in preparation for the murders!" "Hey, that _does_ make sense," Stan said. "Except we _still_ don't know who did either one." Kenny shrugged again. "All I'm saying is that when we do catch the guy, we can punish two crimes at once." "Oh." "We might as well wait for a while. I don't think we're getting much of anywhere right now," Kyle said. ========= That night, Kenny discovered just how hard it is to sleep on Earth when you have a pair of wings. There was no possible way he could comfortably lie in the bunk - it fucking hurt to lie on his back, he couldn't sleep lying on his side, and if he tried to sleep facedown...uh-uh, it wasn't happening. After about the eleventh attempt to find a comfortable position, Kenny decided to try something else. He half-climbed, half-flew out of the bunk and went to the lounge area of the station. Once there, he went straight to the very large, very soft chair that was up against one wall, and sat in it, virtually melting with bliss when it didn't hurt his wings to lean back. He happened to catch sight of his stack of Playboys next to the chair, and smiled a little to himself. 'Why the hell not?' he thought, and began reading. About halfway through the stack, he realized that his eyelids were about to close on their own. Right about then, he put the magazine down, figuring that if he, town perv, was too tired to read porn, it was time to sleep. He folded his wings around himself like a blanket, leaned back in the chair, and was soon sound asleep. ========= "Dude, where's Kenny?" Kyle had gotten up before Stan or Cartman, and was puzzled on finding that Kenny wasn't in the room. "Probably had to go back to heaven," Stan muttered from somewhere in the depths of his pillow. "And what are you doing up so early on a weekend?" "So I'm a morning person. Sue me. And get your face out of your pillow before you suffocate." "Nag, nag, nag," Stan grumbled, shifting position so that he was no longer facing down into his pillow. "You remind me a lot of your mom." Kyle shot Stan an evil look. "I'll try to ignore that little comment," he said pointedly. "C'mon, get up and help me find him." "Don't wanna." "You don't wanna go scare the shit out of him again?" In approximately half a second, Stan was up out of bed and fully awake. "What are we waiting for?" he asked, wearing a huge grin. "Let's go look for him." Kyle grinned back. "Now that's more like it." The two entered the lounge, and right away saw Kenny sleeping soundly in the chair, wrapped in his wings. They exchanged a glance, and then headed for the bathrooms. Kyle grabbed a bucket and put it under the tap, filling it with icy cold water. Then he and Stan carried the bucket back to the lounge and got ready to dump the water all over the peacefully sleeping angel. "5...4...3...2..." Stan started the countdown. At the very instant he was about to say "one", Kenny jumped up and grabbed the bottom of the bucket, yanking it upwards in such a way that both Kyle and Stan were drenched. Kenny was pretty sure that the resulting screech had to have rattled at least one window in the station. "Eeaeeaaaarrrrgghk!" Kyle sputtered, furiously wiping water out of his eyes. "You were [address] You dirty little--" "Bastard?" Kenny offered sweetly. "Thank you." "That was absolutely uncalled for, Kenny!" Stan growled, trying to get the water out of his jacket. "Was not," Kenny said. "That was retaliation for you surprising me when I was reading my porn." "Okay, okay, we're even now," Kyle grumbled. "Truce?" "Truce." At about that moment, Cartman walked into the room, yawning. "Ay, what was that noise I heard?" he asked blearily. "Sounded like--" "A very loud screech?" Kyle offered bemusedly. "Yeah, that." "That was just me and Stan." "Huh?" Cartman rubbed some of the sleep out of his eyes, and noticed that both Stan and Kyle were dripping wet. A bucket lay nearby. "They were trying to splash me with a bucketful of water, but I splashed them instead," Kenny summed up helpfully. "Ice-cold water," Stan grumbled. "Why is it I always tend to miss these hilarious scenes?" Kyle shrugged. "Maybe because the writer of this fanfic just can't write you into these scenes?" "Could be it." ========= Towards afternoon, things had quieted down considerably. Kenny basically sat in his chair and daydreamed (he had been flying around the lounge earlier, but this had annoyed the hell out of Kyle and Cartman, so he had had to stop), Kyle was trying his hand at sketching something, and Cartman was just sitting on the couch and eating his way through the stock of Cheesy Poofs, Snacky Cakes, and such that the others had provided him with earlier to make sure he stayed quiet. The near-silence of the lounge was suddenly broken as Stan burst in (practically knocking the door off its hinges). "WE GOT A LEAD!" he yelled triumphantly. Kyle, Cartman, and Kenny dropped what they were doing and crowded around Stan. "A lead?" Kyle asked eagerly. "From who? What've we got?" "From Chef," Stan said. "Remember him? He's the one who --" "I remember Chef," Kyle said, cutting Stan off with a wave of his hand. "Just because he hasn't had a lot of appearances in our second season doesn't mean that we've all forgotten him." Stan grinned. "I know, I was just joking. Anyway, he says he got a look at the killer, and scared him away just as he was about to strike again." "What'd the guy look like?" Kenny asked, eager to bring the case to a close. "Well, he wasn't exactly tall, but he was thinnish - by human standards. Chef didn't get a look at his face - he was wearing a ski mask and a hat. He also kept his right hand in his pocket, like he was trying to hide something." "Well, I guess that means it can't be Dave," Kyle said. "Dave wouldn't fit that description." "Yeah, but I don't really think it was Garrison," Stan said. Kenny suddenly realized something. "Dudes...what was Garrison's alibi after the first murder?" "He said he was eating dinner." "And when did the murder happen?" "You know this, Kenny," Stan said irritably. "You were with us when we went to investigate." "Just bear with me here. When was it?" "It was about twelve in the afternoo--" Stan suddenly stopped, realizing what Kenny was getting at. "Twelve in the afternoon is way too early to be eating dinner," Kenny said unnecessarily. "False alibi." "Then it has to be Garrison," Cartman gasped. "Dudes, I'm sorry," Kyle said, "but as much as I agree, I just remembered something - innocent until proven guilty." "So we gotta prove Garrison guilty," Stan shrugged. "No sweat." "Got a plan?" "Not yet." "So let's get working on one." ========= "When's he gonna come?" Cartman asked. "Ssssssh!" was the prompt response from the other three. "Well, soooorrry," Cartman replied, this time in a whisper. "I just wanna know when Garrison's gonna take the bait." The boys were hiding in a bush, keeping a close eye on Dave, who they had chosen to be the bait for Garrison. The alien was leaning against a streetlight, translator taken away from his mouth to make him appear no different from any other alien. (Besides, it was no longer needed, as he had somehow managed to learn English.) "Whenever he comes," Stan whispered in response. "Although one of us could go out and see where he is at the moment - say, from somewhere up in the air," he hinted. "Forget it, Stan," Kenny whispered back. "You think I wouldn't stand out like a sore thumb up there? It's really hard for an angel to be inconspicuous." "Yeah, what with the halo and the white and all," Kyle whispered in Kenny's defense. "Yeah," Kenny agreed. "Now, if I were my normal self and just _happened_ to have a pair of wings..." "Ssh! I see him!" Stan hissed. Kenny instantly shut up, and all four boys peered through the bushes, watching the man approach Dave. "Get ready," Kyle whispered. Kenny raised his wings to a ready position, making sure that they didn't show above the top of the bush. The man drew out a steak knife with his left hand - his right hand was buried deep in a pocket. "Get set." Kenny's wings trembled in anticipation of flight. The man with the knife prepared to attack Dave. "NOW!" Kyle yelled. With lightning reflexes, Kenny leapt out of the bush, flying at top speed towards the murderer, who had no chance to react to this sudden twist of events, and was consequently knocked over by the small angel. Kyle, Stan, and Cartman filed out of the bushes and ran towards the downed murderer. Kenny shifted his position so that his weight - slight as it was - prevented the killer from getting up. Kyle yanked off the hat and ski mask to reveal... "It's Garrison!" Stan said. "Yeah! I was right!" Kyle celebrated. "Alright, you caught me," Garrison grumbled. "What are you gonna do to me?" "Garrison, you are under arrest on charges of murder and theft," Kyle said. Kenny let Garrison up and Stan slapped handcuffs on the teacher. The four then escorted Garrison to the jail. ========= "Back again, Mr. Garrison?" the guy at the prison desk said, looking up. "Again?" Kyle echoed. "What'd he do before?" "He went to the morgue and raped all the women there," the desk guy said, as a couple officers rose to escort Garrison to a cell. "He fucked a bunch of dead chicks??" Kenny said, horrified. The other boys glanced at him - why was Kenny McCormick, town pervert, upset about this? "Oh, like _you've_ never wanted to screw a chick," Garrison said to Kenny. "Now, wait a second here. I never said I wouldn't want to - as a matter of fact, I'd really like to - but I'll take mine live, thanks." "C'mon, enough chitchat," the desk guy said. "We gotta get him locked up." The boys were silent as Garrison was led to his cell, and then left. Outside the jail, they stopped. "So. What are you guys gonna do now that we're all done with this stuff?" Stan inquired. "Hang out, I guess," Kyle said with a shrug. "I'm down here until my next death - I wanna take advantage of these wings while I've got 'em," Kenny said. "Have fun, dude," Stan said. "And by the way, I am so jealous of you." Kenny grinned twistedly, although nobody could see it under his hood. "Are you saying maybe I should take you along with me next time I die, so that you can be an angel for a while too?" "Um, let's not go that far," Stan said. "I have no desire to die." "Didn't think so." Kenny grinned again (like it mattered), and spread his wing, flying off. The other three watched him enviously for a while, and then each one left for his own home. ========= end
What did you all think? I had a little trouble ending it, and I'm sure there were a few slow parts throughout it, but overall, I'm pretty proud of it.
Alyssa