SOUTH PARK Mephestein by Steve Sutton
(The guys are walking home from the bus stop, after school.) Cartman: Guess what kind of costume I'm wearing tonight, you guys. Stan: A fatass costume? Kyle: It can't be better than mine, dude. I'm going as a warlock. Stan: Yeah, and I'm wearing a Darth Maul costume. What about you, Kenny? Kenny: {A ghost.} Stan: A ghost? Dude, that's not very original. Kyle: Yeah, Kenny. Why are you going as a ghost, dude? Kenny: {It's all we can afford.} Cartman: Listen, you guys. Those are all good ideas, except for Kenny's, his sucks ass. But, my Napoleon costume beats the crap out of all of them! Kyle: Oh, so you're going as the Little General? Stan: Yeah, there's nothing little about you, Cartman. Cartman: No, I'm going as Napoleon! God, Kyle! What's wrong with you?! Kyle: Napoleon was the Little General, fatass! Mister Garrison gave a whole speech about him and Nancy Reagan, today! Cartman: Well, I was too busy thinking about tonight to be paying attention to Mister Garrison, Kyle! Stan: Dude, I don't know if we're going to be able to go out tonight. It looks like it's going to start raining any minute. Kyle: Yeah, those clouds look kinda dark. It's going to suck if we can't go trick-or-treating. Cartman: Well, it better not freaking rain! My mom worked too long on my costume and I wanna show it off! Stan: I'll ask my mom if you guys can sleep over tonight. We can still go, if it stops early enough. Kenny: {Cool.} (Later, lightning flashes at the Genetic Engineering Ranch.) Mephesto: My god, Kevin! Just look at it! (Kevin hops up and down excitedly.) Mephesto: After too many years, we've finally succeeded in creating something that will affect the destiny of Man, perhaps even change his evolutionary path! Quick, hand me that syringe! (Kevin hands Mephesto a syringe filled with something green. Mephesto injects the liquid into his creation.) Mephesto: It won't be long now, Kevin. Soon, we'll see if all our hard work was in vain. (The creature stirs to life, moans and squeeks, then passes out.) Mephesto: No, this can't be happening, Kevin! Apparently, the brain we used lacks the brainpower to properly control such a creature. We shall have to discard the monkey's head and find another one to replace it. But, where? Where do we even begin to look? (Elsewhere, the guys are at Stan's house, watching Star Trek on TV. It's raining outside.) Seven of Nine: Ensign, I require your assistance. Harry: What's up? Seven of Nine: My vaginal implant appears to be malfunctioning. I am in need of, at least, nineteen consecutive hours of extremely violent, passionate, orgasmic intercourse to correct the problem. Harry (dropping his pants): I'm your man! Cartman: Stan? Explain to me, again, why the hell we're watching this piece of crap. Kyle: Yeah, dude. This thing sucks. Stan: I know. It used to be a whole lot better, though. Seven of Nine: That is incorrect, Ensign. Please remove your appendage and reposition it before ejaculation begins. Harry (pausing): Too late. (Kenny laughs.) Kyle: Dude, change the channel, all ready. (Stan changes the channel.) Announcer: Welcome back to Jesus and Pals, on South Park Public Access! Stan: Oh, good. Jesus and Pals is on. Jesus: Ye, I am the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost. Follow my path and you will never be alone. Hello? Next caller? You're on Jesus and Pals. Caller: Hi, Jesus. Jesus: Hello, my son. Caller: First, I'd just like to say that I'm a big fan of yours, and I really like your work. Jesus: Thank you, it's nice to be appreciated. Do you have a question? Caller: Uh, yes. Why the hell did you leave the Broncos, man? The team hasn't been the same without you. Jesus: I was never in the Broncos, my son. You must have me confused with someone else. (Stan picks up the phone and dials.) Caller (pausing): This is Jesus, right? Jesus: Yes, it is. Caller (pausing): I think I probably dialed the wrong number. Jesus: Very likely, my son. Thank you for calling. Next caller, you're on Jesus and Pals. Stan: Hey, Jesus? Jesus: Hi, my son. How are you this evening? Stan: Fine. I was wondering if you could make it stop raining so we could go trick-or-treating. Jesus: You'll have to ask my Father about that, my son. You see, I don't have anything to do with controling the weather. That's more in his department. Stan: Oh. But, didn't you just say you were the Father, Son and Holy Ghost? Jesus: That is what I said, yes. Stan: Then you should be able to make it stop raining, right? Jesus (pausing): I'm sorry, my son. We seem to have a bad connection. Could you repeat that? Stan: Yeah, I... Jesus: Ooops! We just lost you. Thanks for calling, my son. Next caller, you're on Jesus and Pals. Stan: Dammit!
TO BE CONTINUED...