Promise- A Bunny south park story

Oh Look, Tolkien's Hosting A Party....Shocking

The video above belongs to Comedy Central duh. Anyway I decided to have this chapter because there's no good south park fic without a Token party let's face it.

Anyway Enjoy!

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Kenny

Tolkien is holding a party this weekend.

And I plan to attend. And get very drunk. Drunk enough to forget about how I not only flirted with Butters to the point where I almost lost control of myself altogether but also basically admitted I'm extremely attracted to him. To his face.

Who does that?? What happened to my infamous fucking charm, huh??? Now all I can manage is "Butters, you're amazing"??? Really?? And when I don't make a fool of myself in front of him, I spend the rest of my time with him just ogling the poor boy as if he was a pink monkey at the zoo.

I genuinely thought I was going to lose my mind, snap and maybe kiss him senseless.

And he was so nice! He bought me KFC! KFC!

And instead of being grateful, the only thing I could think about was....

And now I'm getting embarrassed just by thinking about sex?? Why???? Sex literally defines me, I'm Kenny McCormick , hello???

Relationships are so stressful, what the fuck?

Anyway, this is why I need to get hammered at Tolkien's this Saturday. To forget about how much of an idiot I become every time I'm around Butters. And that I like him.

This is the key difference between me and Stan. He likes the taste of alcohol and genuinely finds comfort in holding a bottle of wine or beer or tequila at any given moment. The only thing I find comfort in is the potential sweet release of (permanent) death after being sent into a comatose state after letting enough alcohol override my bodily functions and seep into the very essence of my being.

That's unrealistic though. So I can only find comfort in the fact that lots of alcohol will make me pass out, which is like...the next best thing. Until the next morning, when I inevitably wake up with a hangover.

On a separate note, going at Tolkien's will save me the trouble of staying at home.

You know, my lovely and totally not about to collapse abandoned warehouse of a home. And, of course, my supportive and wonderful parents! Can't forget about them!

"YOU BITCH, YOU DRANK ALL OF MY BEER AGAIN!"

You know it's bad if I can hear their screaming match from like...two streets away.

"WELL YOU HAVE TO LEARN TO SHARE  YOU FUCKING IDIOT!"

Hey, maybe I can get my mom a paying job as a megaphone so then we can finally have some sort of steady income flowing into this fucking household. My dad can...I don't know, become a professional dead-beat or something.

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING AN IDIOT?!? YOU STUPID WHORE!"

Can I just say, creativity really wasn't a big thing in my family until I was born. The insults my parents come up with are simply not giving. There should be more flare.

Maybe we can't afford any flare.

"Hey, hey."  I interrupted their Greco-Roman battle just as a flying bottle of beer whizzed by my head, "Oi! That was too close for comfort. Why are you both yelling? Are you trying to figure out which one of you is the biggest alcoholic? Because I think you can share the podium for first place here."

I'm conveniently leaving out the fact that i was literally just thinking about drinking myself to death but shhhh.

I'm an irresponsible kid. These guys are meant to be, at least, semi-functional adults in charge of their children. There's a difference.

"Oh, great. You're home." He scowled at me, as he usually does when he's pissed like this, "Where the fuck have you been? Sleeping around? Hope you didn't bring any STDs into my home, you fucking twat."

Well, that's just insulting.

Being a whore AND an advocate for safe sex are not two mutually exclusive things, OK?? If there was some sort of march or school club that spent its efforts trying to praise the advantages of using a condom, I would be the first to sign up. And I'd make a sign. I would be such an active member and run fundraisers to raise money to donate to-OK this metaphor is getting away from me now.

I rolled my eyes and kept my mouth shut, well aware that any further attempts at communicating with this devolving chimpanzee would only result in more yelling. I flipped him off behind his back though. Most kids under 12 do this when they're pissed off at their parents but I'm afraid I haven't reached the maturity levels that prevent me from being this petty.

Instead, I went upstairs and quietly checked on Karen, who I figured must be asleep since the lights were out in her bedroom. After peeking in quickly and confirming she was in bed safe and sound, I closed her door and retreated to my own room.

I flopped on my bed and instantly fell asleep. Like, my lights were out before my head hit the pillow. I'm not used to sleeping this early. I guess I've been so stressed these last couple of days, I couldn't rest all that well.

I was in good spirits overall though. It's been a while since I've been to a party. It's been an even longer while since I went to a party being held by Tolkien. He hasn't hosted any in years. Possibly because he prioritised his academic life and future career over temporary pleasure like a nerd.

Even so, Tolkien's parties are amazing. He has enough money to spare on a lot of the things that make a party amazing. Like...good quality alcohol. Cool lights. Ice sculptures. We love ice sculptures. I may have tried to sleep with one time but I honestly think that was just a very vivid hallucination. Actually, it's more likely that the sculpture was trying to fuck me without consent, considering how drunk I was.

Anyway, I was trying to stay positive about Saturday. I didn't  know whether Butters is going to be there or not, but if he was...I was prepared to tell him.

To tell him that I like him.

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I know  this isn't really Tolkien's party but rather the day before.
Next chapter comes on Monday and I'll try to make it longer.

Anyway bye you lot😋