South Park 1. Chapter 1

Stan sleeps peacefully as the early morning sun shines into his room. We hear sound of running and then stomping feet going upwards the stairs, with a distant but growing louder and rapidly repeating shout.

"_OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG!_" and then Stan's bedroom door bursts open, "_**STAN!**_"

Stan slowly opens his eyes and rolls away from the window. Randy pants heavily with a hand on the door railing.

"No," says Stan.

"Stan! You got you see this!"

"No."

"It's amazing!"

"I'm going back to sleep now."

"Come on, you got to get up! It's on MSLSD News right now! _OMG!_"

"Daaaaad!" he complains as Randy rips the sheets off and picks him up out of bed to the floor.

"You got to see this!"

"But-" he's stopped mid reply after Randy grabs one of Stan's hands and drags him out the bedroom and down the stairs.

Randy stops at the couch and points to the TV, "_There!_"

"The Weather Channel?" Stan looks dumbfounded.

"Sharon, what the Hell?"

She replies, "I was checking the weather before I head out."

Randy grabs the remote and changes the channel, "Gawd! Look! Look at that, Stan!"

Stan looks and sees something floating in the water, "What is it and why do I care?"

"That's the Indian Ocean, duh. They think they've found a piece of that Malaysian airliner! OMG!"

"You woke me up half an hour early for this?"

"Son, this is history! You're a part of history as it's happening! Some day you'll have kids and when they ask you where you were when they found possible floating debris of the Malaysian airliner, you'll be able to tell them you were here!"

Stan pauses, dumbfounded again, then replies, "I'm gonna go pee," and walks back upstairs.

Randy stands transfixed on the TV, "He'll thank me one day. Oh, is that a close up? Are we DVR-ing this?"

"Shhh! An expert! OMG!" says Sharon.

…

The four kids wait at the school bus stop.

"Did you guys see 'Game of Thrones' last night? Holy crap!" asks Kyle.

"Ah huh. Wu wu wu u um fu," adds Kenny.

"No," says Stan.

Eric joins in, "Oh my God – that was so awesome, especially when they killed off…" he stops and looks at Stan, "I sense a disturbance in the Force."

"You didn't watch 'Game of Thrones'? Were you grounded? Did the power go out? Did the TV stop working? There must be a logical explanation for this transgression," says Kyle.

"My mom and dad have been monopolizing the television ever since that airplane went missing. They spent all of last night watching these talking heads speculate and give lame theories."

Eric asks, "Wait – were they drunk? Sometimes drunk people will watch pointless ratings-thrillers for no particular reason."

"No," says Stan.

"Were they maybe high on or something?" asks Kyle.

"Kyle, we're talking Stan's family, not Kenny's," says Eric.

"Fwuck yu!" says Kenny.

"No, that's just it. It's like they're possessed by news of no news," says Stan, frustrated.

"Wait – you don't think out parents are possessed by some sort of cable news network watching spirit of the other worldly afterlife, do you?" Kyle speculates.

They all pause for a second.

Eric answers, "God I hope not; that idea would really suck."

"Yeah," say Stan.

"Yeah," says Kyle.

"Wuuh," says Kenny.

They get on the bus which has just pulled up.

…

The four sit in class.

"Okay, class, settle down and open up your text books to page 69," says Mr. Garrison.

"So, what do you guys really think happened to that plane?" asks Kyle.

Stan butts in, "Look, the pilot probably hijacked the plane, underestimated the fuel, if the co-pilot didn't dump some of it, and they crashed into the ocean. No matter what 9/11 Truthers say, you can't hide an airplane full of people forever."

"I heard on CNN that it might have been a really tiny black hole," Eric adds.

"That's fucking retarded," says Kyle.

"Yeah, dude, why the hell are you watching CNN? Re-runs on Comedy Central get more ratings."

"I heard a sound byte," says Eric defensively.

"Oh," says Kyle.

"Kyle! I know you think this is _Whooptie-do, Look at Me! time_, but I assure you it's information-in/information-out class study, so why don't you and your gay triplets stuff it?" shouts Mr. Garrison.

"Yes, sir," says Kyle.

"Good," he turns around and starts writing on the chalk board, "Now class, as I was saying: with the communist Red Army fast climbing up the mountain side, MacGyver needed a way out, so he began assembling a small aircraft from the crashed satellite…"

"So, what do you guys think?" Kyle starts the conversation back up.

Stan goes first, "I don't know, the ocean's a pretty big place. They're saying the battery in the black box dies after 30 days, stopping the pings, so we may never find it. 50/50 we find nothing or floating wreckage."

"Who cares? Planes crash every year," says Eric.

With a surprised look on his face, Kyle responds, "Loved one of the victims?"

Stan also replies, "Whoever finds the wreckage of the plane will get paid like big-time bucks by some cable news network, fat ass. And most importantly, families will be at peace – I know, a hard concept when you don't have a soul."

"Fuck you, dildo nose. Shows what you know – I got _two_ souls right here!" points to his feet.

"_**Hey!**_ I thought I told you pig humping woodtards to shut up! What were you talking about?" shouts Mr. Garrison.

Stan speaks up, "I was saying Cartman had no soul."

"Oh. Well, of course not; fat people don't have souls. Now, MacGyver climbed into the glider as the Red Army fired on him and-"

"Attention, faculty, please turn on the TV's for breaking news about the Malaysian airliner, m'kay?" Mr. Mackey's voice comes over the intercom system.

"Goddamnit! Can't we learn algebra or something?" yells Stan.

Mr. Garrison wheels out the television cart with the TV on top and turns it on.

"Breaking news on the floating debris that is believed to be from Malaysian flight MH370, which disappeared over a week ago. For information on this latest news alert, we go to a vegetable in a wheelchair with a talking computer. Harry, can you tell our audience what the super important breaking karate monkey death news update alert is?"

"He-llo, Tom. I am co-ming at you live from a green scree-n with a bea-ch pro-jec-ted on it. Ca-ble news is re-por-ting that a car-go ship is due soon to where the floa-ting de-bris is. Ba-ck to y-ou."

"Excellent! Keep us up-to-date on the fidings there, Harry! And enjoy that beautiful simulated beach weather, ha ha ha. Now, with possible theories on what we may find floating in the water, we go to special guest commentator, comedian Gilbert Gottfried. Gilbert?"

Mr. Garrison shuts it off, "Well, there you have it, class."

Stan bellows aloud to everybody in the classroom, "So, let me get this straight: the news is there's no new news?"

"No, Stan, you heard the sexless Stephen Hawking wannabe – a cargo ship is on its way to the debris," says Mr. Garrison.

"That's not breaking news, that's a bottom-screen scrolling news text update. One keeps you updated, the other wastes your time."

"Stan, that aerial floating debris shot is very important."

"**It's filler!**"

There's a moment of awkward silence. Eric humorously claps real quietly a few times.

Mr. Garrison yells, "_News denying Nazi!_"

"What?" says a shocked Stan.

"That's what you are: a Malaysian airplane news update denier _Nazi!_"

"Yeah, you're a Nazi, is what you are!" Butters points toward Stan.

"Jesus Christ!" Stan says, absolutely taken aback.

"What's a Nazi?" asks Butters, raising a hand.

"Eric," Kyle points to Eric.

"Kyle, will you ever just get over that? I only tried to exterminate all the Jews in the world _**once**_. I didn't even succeed."

"Oh, no you don't – don't you dare hide behind the son of God! Especially after what he went through in 'The Passion of the Christ', Stan!" shouts Mr. Garrison.

Stan sits there, wide-eyed with his mouth agape, speechless.

…

Later that school day. The four are at their lockers.

"I sure hope this fucking plane thing is over soon so they can move on to the next human disaster to milk for a month and maybe then we'll get some sanity around here," says Stan.

"Until they find some part of that plane, they'll probably be talking about it until Christmas," says Kyle.

"Oh, hey there, fellas," says Butters as he stops at the group.

"Hey, Butters," says Stan.

Playing with a cellphone, Butters speaks, "I'm trying out this new app I just downloaded; the Malaysian Updater App."

"What's it say?" asks Kenny.

"Ahhh… it says: Breaking News Alert: The History Channel is reporting aliens might be involved. Oh, that sounds kind of cool."

"You have got to be fucking kidding me!" says Stan.

A beep sounds from Butters cellphone, "Oh, George R.R. Martin has sent me a new text. Let's see here… yeah, it's another big floppy wiener. Kind of figured so."

"Who fucking cares?" comments Eric.

"If only there was some way of finding the plane faster, then maybe we could get back to a normal life. Relatively speaking," says Stan.

"Who cares…" says Eric while switching books at his locker.

"You don't think they'll delay, post-pone, or even just skip altogether the 'Terrance and Phillip' season finale, do you?" asks Kyle.

"Oh, another text – I didn't know I was so popular. Let's see… from Anthony Weiner. Okay. Oh. Another flaccid wiener."

Eric says again, "Who c—_**WHAT?!**_"

"Another flaccid wiener, see?" Butters holds his phone screen up to Eric's face.

"Did you say 'post-pone'?" asks Eric.

Stan looks at him, "Think about it: by the time that Norwegian ship gets to the floating debris, It'll be prime-time – right when 'Terrance and Phillip' are on; of course they'll cut away."

"Son of a fucking … bitch ass!" Eric rips his hat off and throws it on the ground.

"Well, that's a new one," comments Stan.

"They will not fucking do this to me again. First they delayed the new season in 2009 because of Fort Hood, then they never even showed two May Sweeps episodes after the Boston Bombing. _I have had enough!_"

Stan says sarcastically, "That's what I like about you: your selfless compassion for human life."

"Well, what are you going to do about it?" asks Kyle.

"I am going to _**find**_ that Malaysian airliner!"

After a few seconds of just staring at him, Stan says, "Uh huh," in uncaring disbelief.

Kyle closes his locker, "Let's go by the cafeteria and see what they're serving today. Come on, guys," heads off with Kenny and Stan in tow.

Butters fiddles with his phone after it beeps, "Oh, hey – another text message. Hey, Eric – who's Mark Foley?"

Angrily with palpable agitation, Eric grunts, "I don't know!" and puts his hat back on.

"I wonder what it is – oh, another floppy wiener. I was kind of hoping somebody would say 'Hi' for once."

"Come on, Butters!"

"Where to?"

"We're gonna find out once and for all where the hell that Malaysian airplane is!"


	2. Chapter 2

Stan quietly works on an assignment at his desk.

The shrill whine of the school intercom system cutting on sounds in the class room; Mr. Mackey's voice speaks, "Attention students: will Stanley Marsh please come to my office? Stanley Marsh, come to my office, m'kay."

Kyle says quietly to Stan, "Dude, what did you do?"

"I haven't done anything."

Eric jabs, "That's what they all say."

Stan gets up, "Not everyone's born guilty like you, blubberbus."

Stan exits the classroom.

.

He stands at the entrance to Mackey's office.

"Ah, Stan, come in and have a seat."

Stan sits, "Mr. Mackey, are you sure you meant Stan Marsh and not Eric Cartman?"

"No, Stan, this is about you."

"Huh. Okay."

"Stan, do you have something against foreigners?"

"What?" confused.

"You know, people of other races that have funny-looking mustaches, weird clothing, and talk funny, m'kay. When you cross the street and see one coming, is there like, you know, an inbred natural response of fear?"

"No!"

"So, you're fine with Malaysians?"

"Yes!"

"Well, do you – do you have something against airplanes?"

"No, why would I? I flew on one to Canada once."

"I see. Well, what is it you hate about news?"

"Mr. Mackey, what's this all about?"

"It's recently come to my attention you're a news denier."

"Oh, God – can you tell Mr. Garrison I just want insightful and informative news? Not 24-hours of V-stock footage and nobody's paraded around as experts while rambling incoherent opinions."

"Well, I, ah, can't say to you whom filed this complaint, m'kay, it violates teacher/counselor confidentiality."

"Whatever, just tell him."

"Well, I don't understand. If you like new, flying, and foreign nationals with, you know, funny names and weird customs, than exactly what do you have against news reports on that Malaysian flight?"

"I just told you!"

"Now, Stan, I'm an adult, m'kay, it's all right to tell me these things. Have you ever wanted to harm other people who watch the news?"

"No!" Stan shouts.

"Does it anger you when Kris Matthews goes on air and reports on MSLSD?"

"Well, yes, but for different reasons. But I don't want to kill him!"

"Hum. Stan, do you ever feel like committing genocide against all Malaysians and news anchors? You know, exterminate all the kumah tropical sakais?"

"Didn't you throw Eric under a bus one time?"

"M'kay, Stan, that's not productive, it's counterproductive. You know, the opposite of productivitiness."

"Mr. Mackey, I'm tired of seeing news anchors going on &amp; on &amp; on 24-hours a day saying the same damned thing over &amp; over again, and then getting pissed at us for saying it's not news. My life has become a living hell because of that crap."

"_Crap_ is a bad word; you shouldn't say 'crap'. It's bad."

"Well, it is."

"Okay, you need to be more tolerant of the national news and their guest experts. These folks are working tirelessly 24 hours a day to bring you the latest in the Malaysian airliner travesty."

"_No they're not!_ They're re-playing the same fuzzy shot of floating garbage at different angles and university flunkies blathering conjecture! _God!_"

Mr. Mackey starts writing on a piece of paper, then hands it to Stan as he walks by toward a cabinet, "Ah, Stan, I'm gonna go ahead and write you permission to take Ritalin while on school premises; hopefully this will quell some of your wordy harangues and ethnic cleansing tendencies, m'kay."

Stan looks at him, then the note, then the pills in his other hand, then at Mackey again and utters, "Meow."

"Meow?"

"Meow."

"Oookaaayyy…"

.

Stan exits Mackey's office and as he heads back the bell rings for lunch. The halls fill with kids heading to lockers and the lunchroom.

"Hey, Tweek. Want some Ritalin?"

"You have Ritalin? Oh my God – I _love_ that stuff. Sure!"

"Here you go. Keep calm and Tweek on."

…

The four kids walk to a table with their lunch trays.

"Dude, what did you do?" asks Kyle.

"Nothing! Mr. Garrison told Mr. Mackey I was a news denier. This entire situation is out of control."

"Hey, there, fellas. Mind if I sit with you?" asks Butters.

"No, go ahead," says Stan.

"What are you going to do about it?" asks Kyle.

"I don't know."

Butters' cellphone beeps, "I had no idea so many people wanted to text me. Let's see who it is… Geno Smith. Doesn't ring any bells. Let's take a look-sie… gosh darnit – another big floppy wiener."

"I think Butters and I are closer to finding out what happened to that plane," says Eric.

"Ah huh," Stan says dismissively.

"Hopefully it'll be over once they reach that floating debris," says Kyle.

Stan says in a frustrated voice, "No, 'cause then they'll spend another month trying to find the plane with SONAR. Then they'll get James Fucking Cameran to go down there and film it, then they'll spend yet another month trying to figure out exactly what happened, then after summer they'll have some crash documentary, then a TV movie, then a year-end review, and then a year from now a movie directed by Cameran and scored by James Hornner and oh my God! _It never ends!_"

"Dude – maybe you should take a valium," says Kyle to Stan.

"They barely even acknowledged Benghazi and still promote that lie about the Youtube video, but 24-hours a day it's nothing but essentially Malaysian Cable News networks."

Eric interjects, "Not ah; not if Butters and I break this mystery wide open. I'm like Sherlock Holmes, only smarter, and he's Watson's really smart dog if he had one," while chewing on food.

"And maybe later flying monkeys will crawl out of my butt," says Kyle.

"You're just jealous 'cause you're Jewish and you know I'm gonna get the money and fame and what not. It's okay, Kyle, I'm sure all great people on the cusp of fame were envied by the followers."

Kyle mocks Eric, "Yeah, because we all know: behind all great men is a Butters."

"Fuck you. When I'm famous, I'm gonna pay people to kick you in the nuts!"

"You're not going to find—" Kyle is interrupted by Stan.

"Wait! You know, I actually don't feel that bad about Cartman looking into it. Who knows what kind of wild adventure we'll get into."

"Stan! Don't encourage him! He's evil!"

"I know, but I kind of already feel a little better."

"Kyle, Kyle, Kyle, poor Jewish Kyle: nobody cares," says Eric, taunting him.

"Stan, you're not thinking rationally. This barrage of Malaysian reporting has frazzled your mind!

"Don't listen to him, Stanley! Me and Butters hope to break this thing wide open during recess. Right, Butters?"

"Yeah, me and Eric are going to bust this hard nut right open!" bangs the cafeteria table.

Kenny laughs, putting a hand up to his mouth.

"Goddamnit, Butters, don't improvise."

"Sorry."

A song plays over the school speaker system, "Where were you when they found a piece of floating debris in the Indian ocean."

…

All the kids play outside as recess continues. Stan and Kyle toss a soccer ball back and forth.

Clyde walks up to them, "Hey, have you guys heard the latest on the floating debris? Oh, that's right, Stan – you hate the news. My uncle is a newscaster. Eat it," and he flips Stan off, then turns and walks away.

"Agh … agh …" Stan mummers, trying to hold back his frustration.

"Just hang in. Recess will be over soon and you can avoid them in the last two classes."

"I'm trying."

A kid not far from them says to his friend, "Hey, did you hear: they say that cargo ship won't get there for a couple of days."

His friend replies, "Oh my God – this is way more suspenseful than 'Man of Steel'!"

"Agh! I'm gonna lose it!" says Stan.

"Just take a deep breath and relax and go to your Happy Place."

"What the hell's a 'Happy Place'?"

"I don't know – I saw it on TV."

Cartman and Butters come jogging over.

"_**Guys! Guys!**_"

Kyle comments, "You ever notice Cartman looks like the Kool-Aide man's kid going downhill when he runs?"

Eric stops at the two, panting for breath, "We did it!"

"Really?" says Kyle, "Shouldn't you and Butters have at least gotten married first?"

"What? Shut the fuck up," says Eric, pissed off.

Butters catches up, "Did you tell them?"

"Tell us what?" asks Stan.

Eric says excitedly, "We know what happened to flight MH370!"

"No … no … really?" Kyle cocks his head to a side.

"Dude – we spent time with an alien that craps tacos; I think this might be possible," says Stan.

"Is it where that floating wreckage is?" asks Kyle.

"No," replies Eric.

"Is it at the secret base Nasser Namvar, on Diego Garcia, like that nut job said?"

"No – the commies were a red herring."

"Did it get shot down because it violated some despotic counties airspace?" asks Stan.

"No."

"Did, like, the Chinese take it since those 20 semi conductor manufacturing firm employees who develop weapon systems parts and aircraft navigation parts, were on it?" asks Kyle.

"Not even close," says Eric.

"Was it terrorists? You know, to fly the plane into something?" asks Stan.

"No."

"It didn't turn out to be a really tiny black hole after all, did it?" asks Kyle.

"Pft – no way, that's hella stupid."

"Well, if it wasn't the Russians, the Chinese, the Diego Garcians, or a secret American black ops operations, then who's got the plane?" asks Stan.

"Bronies."

"Bronies?" Kyle says confused.

"What the hell's a 'Bronie'?" asks Stan.

"Aren't they those little midgets from _Willow_?"

"No, those are Brownies."

"Oh."

Butters speaks, "Why, they're what the fans of 'My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic' call themselves. You know, like Trekkies or Browncoats."

Kyle puts his hands up and shakes his head left-to-right, "No, no, no, no, no. You don't expect us to swallow this tripe?"

"It's true. Me and Butters heard it and confirmed it from very reliable sources."

"Stan, you're not buying this, are you?"

"I need a diversion and this seems pretty good."

"Dude!" says Kyle.

"We'll need to go where the Bronies have the plane stashed to verify and take pictures," says Eric.

"And rescue the hostages," adds Stan.

"Yeah, that, too," Eric says dismissively.

"Well, let's go find some dweebs and grill them," says Stan.

"Well, that's gonna be a bit difficult," says Eric.

"Stan looks at him, "Why?"

Butters says, "We haven't actually been able to find any kids here yet who watch it."

"Yeah," says Eric, "turns out the fanbase is made up mostly of grown men who live in their parent's basement and have never actually kissed a girl."

"That doesn't even make sense! Why would grown men watch 'My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic'?" Kyle shouts at the absurdity of it all.

"Kyle, there are many things scientists cannot easily explain," says Eric.

"Why would Bronies steel a plane full of people?" asks Stan.

"I don't know, but in order to find out, we'll have to fly to the sister island of Diego Garcia, _Russ Garcia!_"

Cue: a dramatic music stab. Butters' phone beeps.

"Another text message? Hum… Chris Lee – sounds normal. Man, another floppy wiener!"


	3. Chapter 3

The boys walk into City Wok.

"Shitty Wok! I tayke your owder?"

"Yeah, we'd like to get five tickets on City Airlines," says Stan.

"Oh, I noh cahn hewp you," replies Mr. Kim.

"Why not? We got $62 dollars."

"I on pawole; noh allowed to leave tohwn. I hawlve to stay here 'n' mind my Shitty business."

"He, he, he," Kenny laughs.

"But you have to – it's important," says Stan.

"Sawwey, bowys."

"Stan, let me handle this. Ay!" Eric yells at Mr. Kim.

"What?"

"You wisten here naw! We save you bwuizness fum Mongolians! You owe us!"

"Oh, yeah, I fowgaht."

"Fowgaht?! It naght month ago!"

"Sawwey, I get caught up lohts of Shitty work."

"You still owe us! You pay now!" Eric yells.

"Bawt-"

"Now or you disonerwabowl and I tewl evweebohdee that!"

"Okay, okay – I fly you kids. Where you wahnt fly to?"

"The island of Russ Garcia," says Eric.

"Where thaht?"

"Idiot, that's 40 miles south of Diego Garcia," Eric answers.

"Ohhh, I see."

"Good."

"Who Diego Garcia?" asks Mr. Kim.

"Fucking fuck!" Eric throws his hands into the air.

Stan steps in, "I got it. Mr. Kim, I'll e-mail you directions when I get home. What's your e-mail?"

"Oh, it's'a shitty1 ."

"Okay."

"Stan," grabbing an arm, Kyle speaks to him, "It's not too late to turn back now. There's still time to avoid getting caught up in another ne of Cartman's schemes of self aggrandizement."

Stan replies, "I could use a little vacation. We haven't been out of the country in… you know, weeks. Maybe it'll be fun."

"When has it ever been fun? The rain forest, the Peruvian ruins, being chased by bears and wolves in Canada, dude, when?"

"Maybe this time will be different."

"That's the same crap Michael Bay fans say!"

"Hey, if you now owdawr, you leave here, okay? Shitty customers onlee!"

…

Stan walks in his house and heads upstairs. He drops his backpack like dead weight and sits on the floor to change his socks and shoes.

Randy knocks on the door lightly and pushes it open, "Stan?"

"Yeah, dad," putting clean socks on.

"Can we talk?"

"As long as it's not about the missing Malaysian plane."

"Damnit! I mean, no, I wanted to talk about something else."

"Okay," humoring him.

"You know, Stan, lots of people around the world like airplanes."

"Here it comes…" tossing his dirty socks.

"There's lots of planes out there; big ones, small ones, ones that land in water like in _Indiana Jones_."

Stan says with sarcasm, "Nooo, reaaalllyyy?"

"Yes. And like, a bunch of countries have their own airplanes and airports."

Again, with sarcasm, "You mean it's not just one airport servicing the entire world?"

"No! And you know, Stan, there's nothing wrong with planes from other countries. Just because their hulls are different colors and they have funny-looking scribbles on them, doesn't make them any less airplane."

"Oh, Goddamnit! Dad, Mr. Mackey-"

Interrupting Stan, "Son – let me continue."

"_Agh!_"

"We should embrace different airplanes. There's enough sky for all of us."

"I already know that! It's just that Mr. Mackey-"

"Hold on – I strill got more to say."

"_Agh!_"

"Sometimes these airplanes crash, like MH … I mean, like planes from places like Hawaii, Belize, Easter Island, and Malaysia. Sometimes it's land, sometimes it's the Indian ocean, but when they do, people like to watch smoldering remains and floating parts to keep appraised of the situation."

"Gah! Why?! What could you possibly learn from watching fiery wreckage? What are you keeping appraised of? Is somebody going to pop up from under the floating debris three weeks later?!"

"Son, news coverage on these crashes are very important."

"What's so important about 24/7 coverage of crash theories and anchors telling us investigators still haven't found the plane? School buses of children _dying_ don't _get this kind of coverage!_"

"Well, maybe if school buses flew."

"_Oh my God!_"

"It can be very informative."

"How?" demanding examples.

"Well, I learned there's an Indian ocean. I think it's in India."

"Use a globe!"

"And that there's a country named Malaysia. I think they named it after Jimmy Carter's last administration."

"What possible use could that be to you?"

"Well, ahhh … you see … the thing is … well, I could tell you, but I don't have time right now."

"Is after dinner good for you?"

"What?" Randy is taken by surprise, "Ah, no, no."

"What about tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow? Well, I was going to spend the day watching news coverage."

"What about next week?"

"Next week? Ahhh…"

"Are you a parrot?"

"Am I a parrot? What? You're changing subjects, Stan."

"You can't even define what the subject _is_!"

"Stan, calm down – you're getting too excited. I wouldn't want you to get angry and go out and genocide the news media."

"Dad, for the love of God, I am not Hitler."

"I know and I intend to keep you that way. This world's big enough for 24-hour news channels and Malaysian planes. Stan you-you can't hug your mom with genocidal arms."

Stan stands up, looks at Randy, then after a few seconds says, "Meow."

"Meow?"

"Meow."

"Oh, _meow_," pats Stan on a shoulder and heads for the bedroom door. He stops and looks one more time at Stan.

"Meow," says Stan again.

"Meow-meow!" waves bye while smiling and leaves the room.

.

Darkness creeps into South Park as the sunlight fades.

Eric sits on the couch eating Cheesy Poofs, waiting for the season finale of "Terrance and Phillip".

"Meow."

"No, kitty."

"Meow."

"No, kitty!"

"Meow."

"_Goddamnit kitty, no! FUCK!_"

Kitty looks shocked and walks away.

"That's more like it now."

A TV announcer speaks, "And now tonight's amazing, extravagant, epic, mind boggling, jaw-dropping season finale of 'Terrance and Phillip' that you have been waiting one week for since it was unexpectedly delayed…"

"Yes, _yes!_" Eric shouts excitedly.

"Has been cancelled to bring you an hour of exclusive commentary from some university dude with a blog, on Malaysian flight MH370!"

Eric shakes with rage. He clenches his fists, digging in his finger nails so hard that blood drips from them. He gets up and walks to the stairwell closet. He removes a baseball bat.

.

Stan and Kyle walk down a sidewalk.

"I can't believe they're not going to air the season finale," says Stan.

"Yeah. I mean, I don't agree with Cartman's reasoning, but this is just plain ridiculous."

Stan says, "Especially after they delayed it suddenly for a week."

"Tell me about it. I'm still waiting on their video game. It seems they've been working on '_The Fart of Truth_' for years now."

"Feels like it, too. Some of the episodes this season have really sucked curling balls. I only hope … next … sea…" Stan trails off as they stop at the Cartman residence.

Eric is beating the living hell out the television on the lawn. He lams the bat down again and again and again.

"_AGHHHHH!_ Fffwalamanamuganug!" he screams incoherently, while continuing to slam the bat into the broken television set. The bat breaks in half. Eric stands there, huffing and puffing, half a bat in hand, blood in his eyes, and wild hair.

"Hey, Cartman," says Stan.

"Whoa, dude – you have blood in your eyes!" says Kyle.

"Really?" says Eric.

"Yeah. You must have gotten so Gibson that the capillaries in your eyes burst."

"They did it; they didn't fucking show the goddamn season finale!"

"Yeah, we know. Sucks," says Kyle.

"Especially after they short-changed us with only ten episodes this season," says Stan.

"They fucking owe us more fucking episodes!"

"Yeah, well, we won't get summer re-runs either if they don't find that plane," says Sta."Aaaggghhh!" Eric smacks the TV with half the bat.

Kyle looks at the bat, "I didn't know you could break a Wiffle bat in two simply by smacking it."

"The City Wok guy e-mailed me back. We're all set for Saturday morning to Russ Garcia."

"Yes, yes. In just one more day the whole world will know what happened to that plane," says Eric, rubbing his hands together.

Dramatic music stab.

"Yeeeaaahhhhh … no," says Kyle.

…

It's Saturday morning and the sun shines down upon South Park. Stan walks downstairs with a backpack on.

"Hey mom, hey dad, going camping with Kyle, Kenny, Eric and Butters for the weekend."

"Shhh! Stan – the cargo ship reached the area where the floating debris was; they're about to announce the findings. _OMG!_" says Randy with much excitement.

"_OMG!_" Sharon joins in.

"This is a FOX News super karate monkey death news alert!" dramatic music stab, "We now go live to the cargo ship where they are about to release a statement on the findings. Megan, what do they say?"

"Hi, Shep," a blond girl in a tight pink dress so short that when it reaches her privates, it is blurred out on TV, "I'm standing with the captain and his seamen, who have all been very nice to me since the helicopter got here earlier this morning," she stands next to the captain.

All the seamen are looking at her legs and butt, with their hands down their pants.

Megan continues, "Captain, can you tell us what you found?" she puts the microphone to his face.

The captain looks at the microphone, then the camera, "Vi fant ingenting. Hvorfor ikke alle få et liv? Disse fattige familier har lidd nok. Slutte å gjøre sine smerter nasjonal nyhetsdekning. Lyst til å bli med meg i køya senere i kveld?"

"Sounds great, captain!" says Megan.

"_OMG!_" shouts Randy.

"_OMG!_" shouts Sharon.

"Stan! Did you see … Stan?" Randy looks over and doesn't see him there.

Stan comes out of the kitchen, "I'm taking all the granola bars and some water bottles," he heads to the front door.

"Stan – you missed the super important announcement!"

"I can watch it on Youtube a bazillion times later. Bye," closes the front door.

"Huh. Kids today – no attention span. Can you imagine if he had done that during the moon landing? I mean, gawd!"

Shep continues, "Thanks, Megan. We now cut live to the empty spot in the Indian ocean where the debris had been floating. You're watching FOX News, fair &amp; balanced. Except for 24 or so liberal commentators, including one who occasionally drops the F-bomb live on air, and only about three real conservatives. And an owner who believes in open borders. But other than that, fair &amp; blanaced. We cut to a word from out sponsors with a new song by Allen Jacson."

The song starts, "Where were you when the cargo ship found the floating debris had sunk…"

.

Eric knocks on a storage shed door.

"Mr. Kim?" Stan calls out.

"Ay! You answer now, you hear?!" Eric yells and bangs on the door.

Butters' cellphone beeps, "Hey, I got another text message. Hum, well, I don't even know who Stantonio Holmes is. Let's see… man, another floppy wiener!"

The large and wide storage shed door opens to reveal Mr. Kim and his small plane.

"Why, hwroo, keyds. Wehlcome to Shitty Airlines. You need to goh to terminal?"

"The planes right there," Kyle points.

"Here – I give you lift," Mr. Kim climbs on a golf cart and waits for them to do so as well. After three seconds they are on the left side of the shed, at an old bat counter. Mr. Kim takes off his reflective orange &amp; yellow safety vest and puts on a royal red vest and name tag. He walks behind the counter.

"Hewroo, welcome to Shitty Airlines. Would you like to purchase a teeket?"

"the plane is right here!" Kyle says more forcefully.

Stan speaks, "Yeah, five to Russ Garcia, please."

"Ohhh, Russ Garcia! I hear it real nice theeze time ohv year. Okay, thawt be sehventee dowleers."

"Seventy? I thought it was sixty nine," says Stan.

"Oh, out energy cohsts hawve necessawily skyrocketed. We need to waise pwice. Sowwey."

"Will sixty nine dollars and a granola bar do?" asks Stan, holding both out.

"What? You noh fill gas tank weeth gwanohlah baws! Eet cowst at least sehventee dowleers!"

"It's all we got – you raised the price overnight."

"All wight, all wight. Hewrs your teekets," hands then to the bous who reach up and grab them after exchanging the money and granola bar, "I howp you enjoy your fwight. And as oways thanks fow choosing Shitty Airlines!"

Butters exclaims, "Wow! What customer service!"

Mr. Kim quickly walks over to a table that has a roped-off line leading to it. He takes the vest and tag off and leaves just the white shirt; he puts on a fake DHS badge and TSA hat. "Okay, wehcome to the TSA line. No wohry, we just gonna feewl you up and invahde youh privacy juhst a wittle beet. Pweez put all your stuff in tway and go threw scanner."

They take out house keys from their pockets and place them in a plastic Tupperware container. Butters also puts his cellphone in there.

Kyle goes threw a cardboard box held together with duct tape that reads SCANNER, "Okawy, goohd, goohd," Stan goes through, "Goohd."

Butters steps threw, "Oh boy – I'm about to be irradiated!"

"Thawts the speereet!" then Eric goes through, "_**BEEEP!**_"

"Ay!" Eric shouts.

"I'm'a sowwey, ser, you gonna have tow goh threw the scahner again."

"Fine!" he walks around it, then through it again.

"_**BEEEP!**_"

"You're just making that sound with your mouth!"

"Ohhh, eet looks'a'like you've behn rahdomly shelected fow additional skweening. Can you pweez step'a out of line, ser?"

"Goddamnit, I don't have time for this bullshit! Some asshole is gonna beat me to Russ Garcia and I'll lose everything!"

"Ser, theez is just'a stahndarhd Cohnstitutiohnal viohlaytion; parfeetlee normahl. Nohw, pleez take off your shoozs."

Eric kicks them off, "_There!_ Now, can we-"

"Goohd. Now, pleez take off all yourw clothing so I can'a streep search a'you."

"_No!_"

"Now? Ohkay, how about juhst your pants?"

"No, asshole! Go Jackson some other kid!" Eric shouts.

"Sowwey, eet juhst rahndom sehlectiohn."

"How do you get randomly selected?" asks Kyle.

"Oh, well, eet ah compleeteley rahndom. Except eef you have colostomy bag. Except eef you a child. Except eef you hawve'a big mimi's. Other thahn thaht, compleeteley rahndom."

"Can we just skip all this and get on the plane now?" asks Stan.

"Oh, o wight, oh wight. Here your things," handing them back and placing their book bags on the floor.

Butters exclaims, "Hey! Where's my cellphone? Wait, there it is – in your pocket!"

"Oh, sowwey, stahndard TSA ohperating procedure," gives it back.

The boys load their bags.

Butters cellphone beeps, "Another text message, from Richie Incogn… – oh no, not this time! I read the internet!"

Eric walkk by, "What if he just wants to give random fans autographs?"

"Oh. You might be right. I guess I better check it out after all. Let's see … blast it! Another floppy wiener!"

"Evweey body aboard?" Kim takes the hat and badge off and puts on a pilot hat and wings pin, then closes the door and gets in the pilot seat. He picks up an intercom sender and speaks, "Hehwoo and wehlcome to Shitty Airlines. We'a howp you ehnjoy yo fwight. In thee eevehnt ohv ay cwash lawnding, you gohnna die. Here whee goh!"

Kim pulls out of the large storage shed and down the path to the open gates.

"Ah, where are we going?" asks Stan.

"Wee gowin' to Russ Garcia, duh."

He pulls out onto the street and turns into it. People point at the plane.

"Pweepare fohr tayk off!"

He puts the plane into gear and it starts down the street. People yell and scream and run off the road and duck on the sidewalks to avoid the wing tips. Cars veer off, things get knocked over. Kenny pulls the strings on his head cover, closing it up to a small hole.

"Shouldn't we have used a runway?" asks Kyle.

"You wahnt rahnway, eet cohst ehxtrah."

"Oh."

"You know, I think it's actually working. I'm already starting to feel better," says Stan.

"Really" asks Kyle.

"Yeah, it's like a getaway."

"No, Kenny, get your own life vest!" Eric and Kenny wrestle for the life vest.

Kyle asks Mr. Kim, "Where are the other life vests?"

"You wahnt mohre livests, eet cohst ehxtrah."

"Okay…"

"Relax, dude; he's at the front of the plane. If it crashes nose-first, he'll die and we'll use his lifeless body as a giant life vest," says Stan.

"Hey! Usihng my livaless bahdee cohst ehxtrah."

Butters plugs his cellphone into its charger and into a power socket.

"Dude, there's still time to tell Cartman to go fudge himself and turn this plane around," says Kyle.

"no way, I can feel the stress melting off. I think I've found my happy place."

"Really? What's it like?" asks Kyle.

"Ah, happy. Kind of hard to explain."

"Oh."

"Kyle, don't you want to stop the Bronies from holding the Malaysians hostage?" asks Eric.

"No, 'cause there are no Bronies and there is no plane on Russ Garcia. This is another Eric Cartman boondagle!" Kyle shouts.

Butters cellphone beeps, "Oh, a text message! It's probably mom and dad wandering if I got to Eric's house safely for the weekend."

Stan says, "Careful – don't blow our cover, Butters."

"Yeah. Who is it?" Eric demands.

"Ahhh … sh … sh … shi … Sharia LaBeowulf."

Kyle says, "It's pronounced Shy La-Buff."

"Oh, well, I'm kinda shy in the buff, too. I wonder what he wants – _now I'm getting tired of all these floppy wieners!_"

"Good, that means out cover story worked. Soon I will uncover the greatest mystery of all of early 2014 and expose those bastard Bronies for who they really are!" says Eric.

"And bring closure to the families of the victims," adds Kyle.

"Yeah, that, too," Eric tosses in quickly.

"Okahy, cheedwihn, juhst'a seet bahck 'n' enjohy owar eenfwight moovee, 'Fwight 93'. Wee bee there een thirteehn howeers."

The plane flies off into the horizon and rising sun.


	4. Chapter 4

They boys wake up to loud explosions; the plane shakes.

"Holy shit, dude!" shouts Stan.

"Howld on there, cheedwin!" says Mr. Kim as he tries to avoid them.

"Why, these are the blackest fireworks I've ever seen!" says Butters.

"These aren't fireworks, Butters, they're anti-aircraft artillery; somebody's trying to kill us!" says Kyle.

"Oh no!"

"Wake up, fatass!" shouts Kyle.

"Huh?" Eric comes to.

"Your lame theory is about to get us killed!"

"We must have flown in the airspace of that secret military base!" Stan shouts.

Mr. Kim speaks, "Noh, wee pahst thaht – nehwy at Russ Garcia! I chwii tow ahvoid it!"

The CB sender cracks and we hear a voice, "Heeeyyy, Boyington!"

Kim switches the communicator on and speaks, "Ay! I noh Boyingtohn, ricepatti! Why you try to kihll uhs?!"

"Unidentified aircraft, you have entered Bronytopia airspace. You are to land at the airstrip immediately or else!"

"Pweez, I mean'a noh hawm, eet was the cheedwin's idewas!" Kim replies.

"Oh, great!" says Kyle.

"Land now of face our _Evil Enchantress_ missiles!"

"I landing wight nohw!" he pulls down toward a flashing runway light.

The plane touches down on the runway.

"I told you, Kyle!" Eric mocks.

"The name's just coincidental."

They come to a stop in front of pink Chevy Volts with light blue flashing lights overhead. Men exit with AK47's.

"Ohw sheit!" says Kim.

"We need to call for help!" Kyle panics.

"There's no time, they're almost here!" Stan replies, looking out the plane front window.

"Butters – your cellphone!" Kyle shouts.

"What about it?"

"Hide it!"

"They're gonna find it and take it," says Stan.

Eric blurts out, "Butters, quickly, _shove your phone up your ass!_"

"Oh no, this sounds an awful lot like 'pull my finger'," says Butters.

"Cartman's right – they'll never think to find it there," says Stan.

"What if they battery dies before we can use it?" asks Kyle.

Eric shouts, "Butters, you'll need to put the charger up there, too!"

"Okay, I guess," he leans forward and crams the cellphone in his ass. "Hum, it's awful roomy up there, almost like something wore it in."

The security officers bang on the pilot's window with the handle of the weapons.

"Dohn't'a shooht! Dohn't'a shooht! Shooht'a thehm, noht'a mee!" Kim says as he opens the side door.

"_**Everybody out! Everybody out now!**_" shouts DPS officer #1.

Mr. Kim steps out and puts his hands over his head. Then the five of them jump out.

DPS #2 shouts, "Put your hands on the plane and spread your legs!"

"Oh, I think I saw this on HBO late one night. Only the cops were way more hotter," says Butters.

"_**Shut up!**_" shouts DPS #1.

"What's DPS?" Stan says, reading their hats.

"Department of Ponyland Security," replies DPS #1.

"I told you, Kyle!" Eric again mocks.

"Son of a bitch. Bronies," says, shocked.

"Are you Eric Cartman?" DPS #2 asks.

Eric hesistates, then points to Kenny, "He's Eric Cartman!"

"Wut?" says Kenny in a muffled voice.

DPS #1 says, "No, he's the one in red. We were told he looks like a fat little red Nazi stormtrooper."

"They're all clear," the second DPS man says, then backs off and retrains his weapon.

"Please, couldn't you just let us go and we'll fly out of here and never come back," says Kyle.

The main DPS officer raises his AK47, shoots a hole in the plane, then says, "You're not going anywhere."

"Noht my pwane!" Kim cries out, looking at it and seeing gas very slowly drip out the side where the gun hole is.

"Zip tie him. Get in the units!" DPS #1 shouts.

They're all shoved toward the pink Volts and forced into the backseats of each unit.

"We need a tower on the strip," says DPS #1 through his walkie-talkie.

Dispatch answers, "Copy that, unit 69.""Over," he then turns the key. The Volt won't start. "Dispatch, send a tow truck again as well."

"Copy that, unit 69."

He gets out and opens the back door, "_Everybody move to the second unit!_"

They all exit and get into the other unit, which then makes a U-turn and heads off. After they are gone, the Volt bursts into flames.

.

A door opens and the boys are lead into a building that while utilitarian and old in design, is painted pink nonetheless.

"The non-believers detainment facility is full right now, so we'll have to put you into a temporary hold, until dear leaders figure out what to do with you," says DPS #1.

"What about our phone call?" asks Kyle.

"Phone call?" DPS #2 looks at him and then his partner. They laugh, "**Ha ha ha ha ha**,** ha ha ha**."

They stop at a door.

"No, Bronytopia is a democracy, not a Republic; we're a nation of Bronies, not laws," DPS #1 replies as he unlocks the door.

"Oh."

The door is opened and reveals a dank and poorly lite utility room with boxes, wiring, and pipes running up, down, and along the walls.

"You all will remain here until such time as out dear leaders decides what to do about it," says DPS #1.

"But, ah, I'm afraid of small dark enclosed spaces," says Butters.

"Get over it!" says the second DPS officer, who then uses the butt of his weapon to smack Butters in the face with.

"_OW!_"

"_Hey! You can't do that!_" Kyle yells.

"Kyle, Kyle, Kyle – let them smack _Butters_ all they want," says Eric.

Kyle replies, "First they came for Butters, then they came for Stan, and then they came for me, but when they came for you, nobody was left to protect you, fatass."

"Sounds pretty sweet to me," Eric salivates.

"Raise your arms. I'm going to chain you to these pipes now," says DPS #1.

The DPS leave after chaining all them to the pipes overhead.

"Way to go, Cartman! Another one of your ill-informed mind-shits has us handcuffed and prisoners with no way out!" Kyle yells angrily.

"Kyle, I couldn't have known the Bronies would be armed!"

"We shouldn't be here _**period!**_"

"Well, no one forced you Zionist ass on that shitty plane!" Eric rebuts.

"He's got a point," says Stan.

Kim jumps in, "Weah, thees'a pwace suhks, why you wahnna cohme here anyhow?"

"I didn't! It was gigant-o-ass's idea!"

"Whaht ehvar, you owh me nehw pwane."

"Now what?" says Kenny in a muffled voice.

"I don't know," says Stan.

"Butters!" Kyle says.

"What?"

"I got it! We'll use Butters' cellphone to call for help."

"Shihhh, Kyle!" says Eric.

"What?" asks Kyle.

"What if they're outside the door listening?"

"He's right – we better wait until its safe," Stan suggests.

"Don't worry, guys, we've gotten out of worse situations than this," Eric says.

"If this is their holding cell, they wouldn't it stand to reason they don't hold people, normally, and for long? I think they just execute people," Kyle reasons.

"Relax, Kyle, how much harm could a few fourty-year-old white douche bags who've never gotten any, do anyway?" says Eric.

"I don't know many harmless douche bags with AK47's," says Stan.

"Good point," Eric replies.

Stan says, "Well, let's not argue, and stick together. We're not going to get anywhere without each other."

"Now what?" asks Kyle.

"We wait," answers Stan.

.

After a couple hours the door swings open violently and the DPS officers come in. One trains his weapon on the kids as the other removes their handcuffs.

"Finally!" says Eric, feeling his wrists.

DPS #1 says, "_**Move it!**_ Our dear leaders want to see you!"

The kids and Mr. Kim are seated on the extended golf carts, paints pink with rainbow-striped covers. The two carts pull away, each with different colored ponytails sticking out the middle of spare tires on the backs of the carts.

The second DPS officer turns slightly to look at Eric, Kyle and Stan, all in his cart, "Wel come to Bronytopia."

Eric starts humming the helicopter ride music from the first _Jurassic Park_ film, "Da DAAAH, da DAH, dah da daaaaahhh dah dad ah daaaaa…"

"Stop that," says Kyle.

The carts drive threw the quaint town, filled with small French-styled villas which are painted various colors of the rainbow, both bright and pastel. They pass by various men, all in various casual business suits, with top hats and all wearing clip-on _My Little Pony_ ponytails, withvarying shades and combos of colors. Some are holding umbrellas and a few are riding big penny-farthings.

The golf carts stop at golden entrance gates. One of the DPS men presses the intercom system send button.

"Two DP coming in."

A buzz sounds and the gates open inward, showing a long drive way. They drive in.

"Hewy, you guhys noh neehd Shitty Wurk, dew you?" asks Mr. Kim.

DPS #2 reponds, "What? No, we don't need any shitty work done here."

"Noh! S-h-i-t-t-y W-u-r-k."

"Slow or fast, we don't need any of you shit here."

Butters interrupts, "Ah, excuse me, gentlemen, Mr. Kim here means City Wok; a Chinese restaurant."

"Yeah, thaht's iz'ah what I saihd: Shitty Wurk."

DPS #2 then says, "Oh. No. We like our food American, and out action figures made in China."

The carts come to a split in the driveway, where on each side two big homes lie; black and grey with tan roofs. At the main doors of each and on the roof tops are gargoyle ponies. The carts take a side path and start circling around one of the homes.

Kyle says, "Wait, wait, wait – how could all this construction material, construction workers, imported items, and people all get here without anybody noticing? This doesn't make any sense."

DPS #1, "Don't make me taze you, bro."

They pull up to a large gazebo with the space of a small outside stage.

"_On the stage, now!_" DPS #2 commands.

DPS #1 picks up a red phone from his cart, "They're here."

"Look at that!" Kenny says in a muffled voice.

Suddenly two large circular holes in the floor open and two white spheres rise upward. The mechanical sounds stop.

DPS #2, "_On your knees and prepare to meet our dear leaders!_"

Once on their knees, the white spheres spin around horizontally to reveal half chairs. In each is a man. The men are in long white robes with Greek comedy/tragedy masks on, and a hood pulled over.

Kyle says, "You're not gonna make us drink Kool-Aid and wear Nike's, are you?"

The two men stand up and take off their masks, revealing two white guys in their thirties, with pimples on their faces.

The one facing them on the left speaks, "I am Basil."

The other does so next, "And I am Senn, rulers of this great paradise."

"Why have you come to Bronytopia?" asks Basil in a snarky voice.

"It was an accident. We must have overshot Diego Garcia," says Kyle.

"LOL, well, it sounds like it's your own fault," says Senn sarcastically.

"That'sssss what I just said," says Kyle.

Basil yells, "**Shut up! Before I release my load on your wife!**"

"We don't have wi-"

Stan is cut off by Senn, "Oh, that was so forceful," to Basil.

"Yeah," says Basil.

"Yeah. I'm getting so hot," says Senn.

"Me, too," says Basil.

They start rubbing each other's crotches while moaning.

"Oh, yeah…" moans Senn.

"Oh, yeah…" moans Basil.

They start making out.

"Ay! _Get a room!_" Eric yells.

"Cartman, don't anger them. They might be gay," says Kyle.

Senn stops and says, "Yeah, we're totally gay!"

"Ah huh. Cant' get enough cock in my ass and mouth!" says Basil.

"That's fucked up," says Stan.

Senn points, "_Homophobe! Gay basher!_"

"Goddamnit, we're not homophobies!" says Stan.

"Yeah, Stan's right – if you can't do it in WalMart, then it's probably not okay to do it in front of other people," says Kyle.

"Whatever," Basil says, rolling his eyes.

"Look, we didn't mean to cause any trouble. Just let us go and we'll fix our plane and get out of here," says Kyle.

Kim begs, "Pweez, dohn't kihll mee, kihll'a thehm instead. I juhst'a fwi pwane."

"Ay!" Eric shouts.

"Silence! Bronytopia _was_ supposed to be a secret experiment," says Basil.

"Yeah'huh. Outsiders aren't welcomed," adds Senn.

Kyle then replies, "Great, 'cause we want to leave."

"Kyle!" Eric says, pissed off, still thinking about his shot at money.

"LOL, leave? No, I don't think so," says Senn.

"Yeah, we can't allow the world to know about Bronytopia," says Basil.

"Are you saying we're prisoners?" asks Kyle.

"No, no! Bronytopia is a peaceful nation, where we live peacefully, away from the American culture of violence," says Senn.

"You tried to kill us with anti-aircraft artillery, smacked Butters in the head, held us at gunpoint with AK47's, and chained us to a pipe for hours in violation, likely of the Geneva accord," says Stan.

Basil shouts furiously, "_**Shut up!**_ Before they release their loads, on your face!" pointing at the guards.

"What are you, twelve?" says Stan.

Senn they speaks, "You are now residents of Bronytopia. You will be given temporary accommodations until your Bronytopia citizenship test is administrated and we know what class you are."

"Fuck this! You can't hold us prisoner!" says Stan.

"You tell them, Stan!" Kyle backs him up.

Stan continues on this angry tirade, "We'll go home and send Google out here and they'll fuckin' Google Map you without permission and they whole world will know about this place!"

"Or we can kill you," says Basil.

"See, Stan, I told you this was a bad idea," says Kyle.

"Bad? No, I'm pumped! I've almost completely forgotten about that damn news coverage."

"Well, get over it. For now on you are no longer Cartman, Stan, Kyle, Butters and you other two," says Senn.

Basil then says, "For now on you will be known as: Brother Pinkie Pie," pointing to Eric.

"Brother Rainbow Dash," Senn points to Stan.

Basil then points at Kyle, "Brother Apple Blossom."

Senn looks at Butters, "Brother Fluttersky," and then to Kenny, "and you are now Brother Twilight Sparkle."

"And you will be…" looking confused at Mr. Kim, "Brother Mei So Pony."

Kim says, "Suer! I bee pohnee, howsee, caht, dohg, whatevwar; I juhst wahnna leeve."

"Weak," Eric comments.

"Remove their ties," commands Senn.

The DPS officers start cutting off the zip ties.

"Arise, brothers. Wel come to your new home: Bronytopia!"

Senn pulls a kazoo out of his left pocket and does a quick ascending fanfare: _Dah ah ah Daaahhhhh!_

"So, does this mean that we're free?" asks Kyle.

Senn answers, "Of course! In our utopian social experiment we throw away such things as wealth and corporatism. You're freer than you've ever been!"

"Really?" says Kyle, confused.

"Except, of course, free to leave. And no freedom to contact the outside world. And we tell you where to live. What to wear. What you eat. What your names are. And whether or not we will continue to grant you the right to freedom. And what kind of freedom's you are permitted to have. But other than that, total freedom!" says Senn excitedly.

"Swell," says Stan, sarcastically.

"You are free to move around anywhere in Bronytopia. Except here. And off island. And restricted areas. And after curfew. You'll find a dress code in your units. DP's, please escort out newest brothers to their units," says Basil.

DPS #1, "Yo ho, dear leaders!" bowing.

DPS #2, "Please come this way," he escorts them back to the pink carts, which then drive off after they all get in.

"Let's to make out and fuck," says Senn.

"Mmmm dat penis," says Basil.

.

The door to a villa opens and the kids enter.

DPS #1, "The six of you will split these two empty units."

"Ah, there's cloths in here," says Stan.

DPS #2, "They're at re-education fun camp."

"Guys – they have a fun camp!" says Eric, all excited.

"Curfew is at ten and you must meet the dress code at all times when outside your units. If you need to get anywhere you can walk or take one of the courtesy cab carts that roam the city," says DPS #2.

DPS #2 adds, "Any questions, phone pound sixty-nine. Be seeing you," and with that both DP's leave and close the door behind themselves.

Stan peaks out the front window, "Okay – they're gone!"

"All right, Butters, drop it like it's shit!" says Eric.

"Well, oh right, but you all gotta stand in front of me. I'm-I'm a nervous pooer," pulling his pants down.

"Oh, for the love of Christ! You're not crapping, Butters! Thank of me as a celebrity doctor and your cellphone as a gerbil," Eric says.

"Oh, okay, I guess."

After a few seconds Stan asks, "Well? Is it out yet?"

"I'm trying, but I think it's stuck up there."

"Bullcrap. Kenny – give me one of your gloves!" Eric yells.

"Whut? No way!" in a muffled voice.

"I need it to fish the phone out of his ass!" Eric says.

Kyle adds, "come on, Kenny, if we don't call for help they might kill us. I'll buy you a new pair when we get back."

"Okay," Kenny relents and hands one to Eric, who then puts it on.

"Do you know what you're doing?" asks Kyle.

"Relax, no one knows assholes better than Cartman," says Stan.

"Thanks, Stan," says Eric, oblivious.

"No problem," then he and Kyle cover their mouths and snicker.

"Butters, you got to relax, you keep pushing me out. Take a deep breath and relax. Think of it as a giant, prolonged enema."

"Well, I-I don't know what that is exactly, but all right."

"There – I think I got the charger," he starts pulling out the connector end of the cord, pulling on it like a loose string.

"Oh, my northern compass!"

"All right, Butters, here comes the plug end," he yanks it out.

"_**AAAAAHHHwa!**_ Hey, I think I made some Creamy Goo."

"I think you hurt him, fatass," says Kyle.

"What?" says Eric, worried.

"I see some liquid on his pants," Kyle points.

"Oh no! Is it blood?" Butters says, scared.

"No, it's clear looking," says Stan.

Eric looks, "Pft – you idiots. Butters' water broke."

"Wait – I thought only women could do that," Kyle says.

"Yeah, something to do with giving birth, I think," says Stan.

"I'm gonna give birth?" asks Butters.

"Butters, just concentrate on pushing. Water comes from your ass – how else do you think you get diarrhea?"

"Push, Butters!" Stan says.

"Yeah, push!" Kyle says as well.

"Okay, I can see the head end. Kyle, get a towel!" says Eric.

"On it!"

"Yes! Here it comes!" says Eric.

"Stan says, "Keep pushing, Butters, it's almost out!"

"Here's the biggest towel I found," Kyle hands it to Eric, who then spread it out under Butters' butt.

"Just one more push, Butters!"

"_**Agh!**_" and with that last agonizing yelp, the phone plops down on the blanket. "Did I do it? Did I give birth?"

Eric answers, "Congratulations, Butters, it's a Nokia."

"Well, make the call," says Kyle.

"No, you make the call," says Eric.

"No way, dude, no after where that's been," signaling with his hands left to right.

"Stan, go ahead," says Eric.

"I'm still on my getaway."

"Mr. Kim? Where is he anyway?" asks Kyle.

"Well, someone's gotta make the call!" Eric says in a pissed off tone.

Stan says, "We didn't really think this part through."

After a few second Eric looks over at Kenny and speaks in a friendly tone, "Keeeneeeyyy…"

"No way!" Kenny replies in a muffled voice.

"Why, ah, don't worry there, fellas, I'll do it. I locked it anyway," says Butters, who pulls his pants up and turns around.

"Great. Wait – who do we call?" says Kyle.

Stan ads, "Yeah, if we call out parents, we're busted and they'll probably ground us for a year."

"Well, there's got to be someone!" Eric yells.

Butters wipes fecal matter off the phone, "Oh, the City in-flight peanuts; it almost looks like I could eat them again," and he then turns the phone on.

"I got it!" Uncle Jimbo – he flew in a war, I recall," says Stan.

Butters' phone beeps and he looks at it, "Hey, look – I got a text while my phone was off. Who's Peter Dowling?"

Eric says, "Butters! What if it's like one of those spy movies where a disenfranchised youth or mole is trying to send us a warning."

"Yeah, that does sound like a white guy," says Stan.

"Dude!" exclaims Kyle.

"Well, it does."

Butters relents, "I better check it then just in c—damnit! Another flaccid wiener!"

"Butters, call Jimbo," says Stan.

"What's his number?"

"555-4626. Remember to dial the number one before the area code; we're out of country."

"Four six, two six. And send. I lost the signal; one bar. Reception out here must be terrible."

Stan jumps in, "I saw this in _Lone Survivor_. We need to get to higher ground for a better signal."

"Where's that?" asks Kyle.

"I don't know. We'll need to scout around."

"The dress code. We'll have to change first," says Kyle.

Stan says pissed off, "Goddamnit, all the probably got is hot pink and sky blue like the other 40 year-old virgins we saw.

"_Woo hoo!_" says Kenny, tossing his arms up.

..

After a few minutes we hear Stan's voice coming out from a bedroom.

"This is gayer than Tinky Winky and _Saved By the Bell_ combined."

Kyle replies, "Well, the dress code was posted. We'll just have to make due."

They walk out into the living room one-by-one.

Cartman is dressed in a medium pink with hot pink hair clipped on the back like a pony's tail. Kyle then walks out dressed in a light tan with a clip-on pony tail colored black &amp; gray, strikingly opposed to his puffed out red hair. Kenny walks out, this time without his orange hood, wearing a medium orange suit with a yellow clip-on, which blends with his yellow hair.

"What?" Kenny says to Kyle, who looks at him.

"Nothing, I just kind of forgot what you looked like."

Butters then exits, clothed in yellow and wearing a light pink clip-on pony tail.

"Why, I look so good I could just eat myself," he says while examining himself.

Eric retorts, "That's good, Butters, always have goals."

"Come on, Stan – we got to hurry up!" Kyle calls out.

"No."

"They're gonna come back eventually; we need to hurry."

"I'm not coming out."

"Stan, we're your friends – no one here will judge you. Except Cartman."

"All right…" Stan walks out and stands there – dressed in light blue and with a rainbow-colored clip-on pony's tail.

"Gay," says Eric.

Stan points at him, "You're one to talk, Brother Pinkie Pie!"

"Ay! At least I don't look like I wandered out of a BLT pride parade!"

"Yeah, well, he can take of the hair, but you'll still be fat," says Kenny.

Eric looks around confused, "Who the fuck was th—oh, Kenny. Still getting used to that. Have you always had blond hair?"

"Yes, dumbass."

Stan cuts in, "The bathroom window was open. I think Mr. Kim bailed on us."

Kyle then says, "He'll be back. There's a hole in the tank and we're on an island – he's not going anywhere. Okay, let's split up into two teams. We'll report back here around one o'clock and have lunch and discuss the findings. I'll take Stan."

"Dude, this isn't basketball," says Stan.

"Did you want to pair with Cartman?" asks Kyle.

"Never mind," says Stan.

"I'll take Butters so he and I can find the missing Malaysian plane."

"Yeah, we're like junior Harding boys!" says Butters.

"Kenny, who do you want to go with?" asks Kyle.

"I'll go with Butters."

"Let's move," says Stan.

They exit the house.

Kyle points, "Here comes a cart. You guys coming?"

"No Kyle, poor ignorant Kyle. In order to not arise suspicions, one must blend in with the locals and do as they do," says Eric.

Stan comments, "There are no kids here to blend in with."

Eric then corrects himself, "Or move quietly and swiftly like a neighborhood ninja."

Kyle replies, "You couldn't move swiftly if the local KFC was on fire and only you could put it out."

"_**Fuck you, Kyle!**_" flipping him off, "Come on, Butters, we have deductions to do."

They walk off as the cart stops by Kyle and Stan.

"That's _deducing_, Pinkie Pie!" Kyle yells out.

The lady at the wheels smiles. She speaks, "Bonjour! Souhaitez-vous que vorte bite aspiré?"

"Can you give us a tour of the city?" asks Stan and they hop in the back.

"Wee wee!"

"No, I already went, thanks," says Stan.

The cart drives off.

Cartman peaks his head around a building.

"All right, Butters, it's clear. Let's go.

"Where? I thought we were looking for high ground, Brother Pinkie Pie."

"Goddamnit, don't fucking call me that, Butters!"

"Sorry, Eric – I was just following the rules."

"They need some place big enough to store the Malaysian plane."

"Well, ah, how about the airport?"

"Precisely my thinking, Watson's dog. We'll need to commandeer a vehicle to expedite out travel."

"Wow, those sure are big words."

"There's one!" Eric points.

He sees a cart stop and the driver enter the building it stopped at.

"Come on!" Eric commands.

They dash over and hop into the cart.

"Eric, we'll get in trouble!"

"How much trouble could we possibly get into with a bunch of old dudes who watch cartoon ponies?"

"I don't know…"

Eric floors it and they head off to the airstrip.

..

As they drive they see Bronytopia residents walking around in colorful suits and pony tail clip-on's. All of them are wearing circular pins with a pony head a number. Some are on a field acting as checker's pieces. Some are just walking around aimlessly. One goes by on a penny-farthing bicycle.

"Hum. You know, Bronytopia doesn't seem so bad," Butters comments.

"Butters, these dinovirgins have no life. Look at them wandering around aimlessly without purpose. This is your brain on _My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic_."

.

After a few minutes Eric stops the cart. He looks and sees two guards guarding the fence around the airport, at the gate.

"How do we get in?"

"Don't worry, Watson's dog, a security gate is like a celibate woman – there's always another way in," he turns left.

After a minute Eric backs the cart behind some bushes and then they walk up to the fence.

"All right, Butters, check and see if the fence is electrified."

"But I'll get electrocuted!"

"Fine," he grabs a stick and throws it at the fence, to see what happens, "Okay, it's clear. Did you bring the Trayvoners?"

"Right here," Butters pulls out a pair of fence cutters.

Eric cuts a hole and they crawl threw on their hands and knees.

"Now what?" asks Butters.

"Okay, Watson's dog, now strip naked and run across the runway."

"But I'm too modest!"

"Goddamnit, Butters! Don't you want me to be rich and famous?! It's okay, I saw a lady do it on the news one time."

"If we leave our cloths behind, why, the patrol guards will see them."

"You're right, scratch that. Now, the plane has got to be right behind those doors. Let's get your cellphone out and make sure it's ready."

"Aye, aye!" he pulls his pants down and tugs on the wall-jack end of the charger, hanging out of his butt. He pulls it slowly out of his ass and the phone drops on out, in a Zip Lock bag.

"Butters, I'm about to become rich. Interviews, articles, residuals on the pictures and footage. Butters, I know I don't say this very often, but… I couldn't have done it without your cellphone."

"Well, gee wiz, Eric, that means a lot to me," he turns his phone on.

"Is it working?"

"Everything's 4X4."

"That's 5X5, Watsons' dog."

Butters' phone beeps, "Oh, a text message. Oh my goodness – Brett Farve! He's like a famous baseball player, or football player, or something involving a ball, I think. Wow! I wonder what he wants… son of a fudging biscuit eater! These floppy wieners are _pissing me off now!_"

"Okay, Butters, we're gonna have to race for it. Ready?"

"I guess. I was never really that good at-"

"Blah, blah, blah. Ready … set … _**O.J. it!**_"

They take off running as fast as they can. Suddenly a giant white inflatable balloon, a little bigger than a full-grown man, comes rolling across the runway toward them.

"_Yes! Yes!_ I can feel the fame! Yes!"

"All I can feel is my legs itching. Holy moly!" Butters then shouts.

The balloon suddenly smacks into Eric, knocking him on his belly, mere inches from the hanger door.

"Agh! Butters! _It's raping me! __**It's raping me!**_"

Butters bends over and fiddles underneath the balloon and seconds later it comes loose and flies off, bouncing into the building and going about it.

"Why, the little inflatable end got caught on your belt," says Butters.

"Oh," and then Eric looks over and sees the hanger door, "there it is, Watson's dog – the door to fame, fortune, glory, and one-upping Kyle's Jewish ass."

"Oh, hamburgers!" shouts Butters.

Off in the distance they see a pink police Volt "racing" toward them with lights and siren going.

"NO! Butters, hurry – we got to take a picture before it's too late!"

They race up to the door, which is slightly cracked open. Eric peaks in.

"My God – it's here!" Eric shouts.

Inside he sees the tail end of a plane and the call numbers MH370.

"Ready!" says Butters.

"Now, butters!"

"Got it!" Butters says after taking the picture.

"There was no flash, Goddamnit! People won't be able to see it, there's not enough light! Do it again!"

"Hold on…"

"_What?! __**They're almost here!**_"

"I accidently hit the timer; they make these things so gosh darn complicated."

"_HURRY!_"

"I can't – it's counting down!"

"AGH! You idiot! It's too late, they're here!"

"Oh, no!" Butters quickly draws the front of his pants open with his underwear, and drops the cellphone down. Just as it goes down, the flash goes off.

The pink Volt comes to a stop and the DP's jump out, AK-47's drawn.

DPS #1, "_**Move and you're dead!**_"


	5. Chapter 5

The front door to the villa the kids had been in previously, opens and Stan, Kenny, and Kyle enter.

"I should have known they wouldn't be here," say Kyle.

Stan speaks, "Well, we are a little early. As long as they're back soon, if uncle Jimbo can leave quickly, he can fly in under the cover of darkness and rescue us. Did you write down the directions to the tower, Kenny?"

"Right here," holding a piece of paper.

"Good. That ship lighthouse or the radio tower will do," says Stan.

"What if we can't get reception? What then?" asks Kyle.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," replies Stan.

The phone in the villa beeps.

"Maybe that's then now," says Kyle.

Stan picks up the phone, "Hello? Yes. Why? How long? Hello? Hello?" he hangs up.

"What was that?" asks Kenny.

"Bad news – the Department of Bronyland Security arrested Cartman and Butters for trespassing and theft!"

"Oh no!" says Kyle.

"Yes way, Kyle. They're being held for investigation. They didn't say for how long."

"Well, there goes the escape plan."

"We got to rescue them," says Kenny.

"Yeah, you go play Question Mark, Kenny. We'll stay here and live," says Kyle.

Kenny replies with irony, "If only you knew how that was funny."

"I don't get it," says Kyle.

"I know."

"Kyle's right. Let's just play it safe until we can make the call. Assuming they haven't been executed," suggests Stan.

Kyle adds, "We can only guess at what terrors they are going through.

…

Eric fidgets around, unable to get free of the ties. His head covered, all he sees is darkness.

"Butters."

"Huh? Who said that?"

"Butters! Are you next to me?"

"I think so."

"Good, 'cause I'm gonna fucking kill you!"

"Oh no!"

The hood comes off Eric's head to reveal Basil. He then moves to Butters. Senn removes a hood from another person.

"Oh, sheeit! I'a showy! Phweez – I doh anything youh wahnt, just'a let me goh. Maybe I couhld suhk eet a whittle for you?"

Senn speaks, "So, Eric Cartman, we finally meet. Ou8r spies tell us you think Bronies are fat pimple-faced virgins who live in their parent's basement, have probably never kissed a girl, and have dicks that probably shoot out dust."

"I'm just the messenger!"

Basil shoves a finger in Eric's face, "That's a lie! I'll have you know I have kissed a girl! It's not my fault she later turned out to have a penis. Mmmm dat penis…"

"No longer," Senn steps aside and points a remote; a video projector behind the three turns on, "You are privy to a great becoming."

"What becoming?" Eric asks.

"Yours," Basil answers.

A voice starts singing, "My little pony, my little pony… ah Ah AH AHAAAHHHHHH!"

"No … no … **NNNOOO!**" Eric shouts.

"Open your eyes! Witness it!" Senn says forcefully.

"No! Please, I'm too young to go blind!" Eric shouts.

"Open them!" Senn commands again.

"Man, I never get tired of that theme song," says Butters.

"Goddamnit, Butters, shut the fuck up!" Eric yells angrily.

Basil reaches from behind Eric's head and uses his fingers to force Eric's eyes open.

"Do you see?" asks Senn.

"Agh! It's raping my eyes!" shouts Eric.

"Oh, hey – this is one of my favorite episodes. Though I kind of like them all," says Butters.

"Agh, fuck you, Butters!"

"This is brother Pinkie Pie reborn," says Basil.

"Ohhh, I see, I put'a on'a ponee costume and suhk eet a whittle for you," says Mr. Kim.

"Do you see?" Senn asks Butters.

"Well, yeah, I've seen this one five times."

"He sees," and Basil cuts the zip tie off Butters' hands, freeing him.

"Do you see the door?" asks Senn.

"Yes," says Butters.

"Walk forth and see the hall. See the third door on the left. Be privy to jelly doughnuts," says Senn.

"Cool, thanks!" he scurries off.

"Do you see?" Senn asks Mr. Kim after moving to him.

"Oh, wheah. I see whahtevwar youh wahnt'a me toh see. Viva le pony revolution!"

"Close enough," Basil knocks on a door. The door opens and a DPS officer stands facing Basil, "Take him back to the villa," and he cuts Mr. Kim's zip ties, "Brother Mei So Pony, tell the truth now about us and 'My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic'."

"Yehs, suher!"

"Yo ho, mein dear leader!" and the DPS man grabs Kim and drags him out, shutting the door behind himself.

Senn moves back to Eric, "Do you see now?"

"Ah," nervously, "sure! I see. I was wrong, it wasn't raping my eyes, it was just making love to them; I was just confused!"

"He recognizes nothing," Basil says to Senn.

"You are an ant in the after birth! You're part of the online world of bitches!" Senn yells.

"I think it's time we took more extreme methods…" Basil suggests.

…

Butters comes strolling into the villa.

"Do-de-do, do-diddy do."

"Butters!" Stan comes running over, Kyle and Kenny following him in tow.

"Oh, hey Stan!"

"Are you all right?" asks Kyle.

"Why, I'm fine, thanks for asking."

"What about Cartman? They told me you two were arrested," says Stan.

"Oh, we were but then they showed us cartoons, gave me jelly doughnuts and let me free."

"What about Cartman?" asks Kyle.

"He was there when I left," Butters answers.

"I don't know, we have the plane back now essentially, maybe we should count our blessings and move on," suggests Stan.

Kyle replies, "No way! My parents will ground me for a year if they kill Eric. Besides, my faith doesn't allow it."

"Whatever. We need to get to the lighthouse and call Jimbo before they end up executing all of us."

"And Mr. Kim," Kyle adds.

"Yeah, him, too. Come on!" Stand commands.

They follow Stan outside and to a parked pink Volt. A French-looking woman salutes him and speaks.

"Bonjour! Vous voulez essayer cul sexe?"

"The beach, please," Stan points.

The cart takes off after they are all in.

A few minutes later the cart stops along side sand dunes and a pathway onto the beach.

The woman speaks, "Vous voulez avoir des relations sexueller avec mes seins?"

"No, that's okay, we'll walk home, thanks. Au revoir," Stan says and waves her off.

The cart takes off, but as it does it yanks Kenny with it and drags him.

"His pony's tail wig is caught!" Kyle shouts.

"Kenny!" Stan shouts.

She stops the cart abruptly. Kenny bashes into the back and falls face down. She looks back, sees nothing, and waves. She guns it. The quick take off rips off Kenny's scalp. He has a quick seizure and dies. Tinny little sand crabs pop up and start consuming his body.

"Oh my God! You killed Kenny!" Stan yells.

"You bitch!" Kyle adds.

.

The three of them near the top of the lighthouse. Butters' cellphone beeps.

"Oh, hey, a text message. Must be mom and dad checking up on me. Huh. Who's Peter Dowling?"

"Never heard of him," says Kyle.

"Well, let's find out… agh! Damnit! Why the hell do I keep getting all these floppy wiener pictures?!"

"Huh. Butters can curse. Who would have thought," says Kyle.

They walk through the door-less arch atop the lighthouse.

"Butters, let me see your phone," Stan takes the cellphone into his own hands, "Almost all the bars. This is good as it's gonna get. I'm dialing now."

"Why, ah, I'm gonna spit off the side!" says Butters.

"Try to get those birds," says Kyle, who joins him.

"What the hell?" Stan hangs up.

"What?" asks Kyle.

"An automated message told me your account had insufficient minutes to make the call. Are you on pre-paid?"

"Mom and dad won't trust me with unlimited minutes. How was I supposed to know 1900 numbers we're no-no's? The girls were ever so nice to me, always wanted to talk longer."

"Well, now Jimbo and anybody else out-of-country are impossible to call," Stan hands Butters back his cellphone.

"We're trapped," says Kenny.

"No," says Kyle.

"No?" says Kenny.

"I know what to do," says Kyle.

"What?" asks Stan.

"Fix Mr. Kim's plane."

"How?" says Stan, frustrated.

"Science class?" asks Kenny.

"No."

"The Science Channel?"

"No."

"Tutorials on youtube?"

"No – MacGyver."

"Oh, yeah – _WWMD?_" says Stan.

"Butters, I need you to go back there and sneak Cartman and Mr. Kim out. Hopefully we'll be out of here by sunset," says Kyle.

"But, ah, I don't know if I can do that all by myself."

"I'll go with him," says Kenny.

"Good luck. Wait – we need to go back and pack first," says Kyle.

"And hurry up. We can barely stand Cartman now – imagine what he'd be like if he liked 'My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic'…"

…

Senn leads Eric into a lowly lit room with large children's toys like a seesaw. Basil stands in a crib shaking a baby rattle hanging out of his pant's crotch zipper.

"Welcome to your first day of re-education camp, LOL. I mean, school!" says Senn.

"Dude, I'm already in school."

"the whole world's a douchebag and we their vagina."

"Ay! I am not a vagina!"

"Willie Shakesaspear, he summed it all up."

"I don't even know what you're talking about. Didn't he make that crappy 'Romeo &amp; Juliet' movie last year?"

"LOL, vagina – he wrote Hamlet; 'to be something or to not be it' or something like that."

"Listen – I just don't like the show, okay?"

"Even in your child-like brain not liking the show is a puzzlement."

"'Ducktales' is way, way, _way_ better."

They stop at a seesaw.

"PFT – word salad. What have I ever done to make you hate it?"

Reiterating, "I just don't like it."

Senn motions for Eric to get on the seesaw with him, "We're brothers."

When Eric sits, his side hits the floor, leaving Senn up in the air, "I'm not fat, I'm big-boned!"

"Enough!" to Basil.

Basil stops shaking the rattle and gets out of the crib and walks to a TV stand. He wheels the stand over as Senn climbs off the seesaw. Basil turns the television on.

"Watch. School," says Senn.

"No," says Eric, averting his eyes from MLP: FiG.

"Watch. School," he forces Eric's head toward the TV, "Good."

"No!"

"You must conform!"

"Dude, why can't I just have personal taste?"

"Report to extreme re-education!"

…

Stan and Butters sit side-by-side in the bushes, while Kenny, Kyle and Mr. Kim – who was at the villa when he went back – are behind him.

"Are you sure, Butters?" asks Stan.

"Positive – that's the one we saw the plane in."

"Okay, so Mr. Kim's plane has to be in the other small hanger. The large one is probably where they keep their own planes and tools."

Butters' cellphone beeps.

"I got a text message. I wonder how I even got a signal," he presses some buttons, "Who's Charles Lee Warren? Damnit now, these floppy wieners are pissing me off! Just look at the _size_ of that thing," he moves it to Stan.

"Yeah, maybe later. Mr. Kim., you know what to do…"

"I'm'a ohff," and Mr. Kim crawls away.

"You certainly are," Stan remarks.

.

Mr. Kim approaches the two airfield gate guards.

"Oh, why hewruu."

"This is a restricted area, brother Mei So Pony."

"Oh, I mean-ah noh harm. Heer – I'ah coohked youh some'ah Shitty food."

"Thanks, but we get plenty of shitty food from the community cafeteria," says guard #2.

"Noh, noh – Shitty Wok. I ohwn ay rehstaurant juhst'ah like'ah Gordon Ramsay."

Guard #1 replies, "Oh, like those Chinese Wok's all over the place that close down all the time. Sounds good."

"Just a minute – we got to make sure there are no nails or razor blades in these dishes."

"Ay! I waz ah cleared of thaht by the FDA! I knohw noht how all thohse razor blades goht een all thohse dishes. I'm ah eight years without an incidehnt."

"Okay, looks clear," says guard #2.

The guards start eating.

Guard #1 speaks, "Oh, man, this is spicy as hell. Tastes good, but spicy."

"Yeah, my throat is parches already," says #2.

"Oh, heer – twoh beeg glashssehs ohv mihlk."

The guards gulp them down quickly.

"This milk tastes funny," says #2.

"Eet's ah special Chinese mihlk. Eet mahkeh youh goh lohng time."

"What?"

Suddenly both of the guard's stomachs start bubbling and growling loudly and fiercely.

"Oh!" exclaims #2.

"I don't feel so good," says #1.

They bend over in pain. The noises end abruptly.

"Oh – I think it's over," says #1.

"Yeah. I guess the Chinese food didn't-"

POP! POP! Suddenly firehouse-like streams of diarrhea breech holes open in the back of their pants, spraying the gates.

"AGH!" shouts #2.

"OH! It won't stop!" shouts the other.

They try clenching their buttcheeks together and holding them shut with their hands, spraying diarrhea all over their hands. They start bending over and wobbling about, sending the streams of diarrhea about like epic Silly String.

"Oh, sheet!" Mr. Kim runs off.

The guards hobble aimlessly around while gripping their stomachs before butting their heads together, knocking them out. The streams of diarrhea steadily decrease in pressure and length, like a water hose turned off, before finally trickling to a stop.

"Good lord!" shouts Butters.

"That was epic," says Kenny.

Suddenly both guards barf all over each other's faces.

"Butters, the Trayvoners!" says Stan.

"Right!"

Stan starts cutting a new hole in the fence.

"Everybody get your stuff!" Kyle says.

…

Senn watches Eric as he's forced to watch "My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic".

"Nine minutes and you still don't love it! This is why I choose not to associate myself with most of humanity."

As the ponies start to sing again, Eric blurts out, "Agh! It's violating my medulla oblongata!"

"We don't talk about such things!" says Basil.

"It's your own fault. Bronytopia is a place where people exist who love it together. Or else," says Senn.

Basil comments, "Oh, I love these songs! They're just like Stephen Sondheim."

"Dude, no they're not," says Eric.

"Yes!" shouts Senn, slamming a desktop.

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Yes! You love 'My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic'! And so do we!"

"Pop," says Basil.

"Pop?" asks Eric.

"Pop goes the weasel."

"What the fuck does that even mean?"

…

Kyle walks over to Stan, who's mixing a pot on a portable heater from the villa.

"How's it going?"

"Great. The fibers in the wigs are making a good gooey paste to patch up the holes. And we can use these fucking gay ponyforms to cover it up. MacGyver was right."

"The first strip is almost done drying. At this rate we may be able to fly out of here in ten minutes."

"Great. Make sure everything is loaded and Butters and Kenny are onboard. We'll need Mr. Kim to refuel."

"Right," says Kyle.

Butters' cellphone beeps.

"Another text message?"

Stand says while mixing, "Butters, you know it's just going to be another penis pic'."

"But what if it's mom and dad?"

"then I'd be looking at your mom a whole different way."

"I better check just to make sure. Bear Grylls? Oh, hey – I think I've seen him on television before. I wonder what he….."

"Well?" asks Stan.

Butters looks pissed and his lips tremble in anger before he blurts out, "Fuck!"

Kenny and Kyle cover their mouths and chuckle.

…

Senn puts a ceremonial cap on Eric's head, "Graduation."

"Does this mean I'm free now?"

"No, less canings," says Senn.

"Oh. You, you know – it's actually not that bad," says Eric. Cue: twinkly piano music.

"Really?" asks Senn.

"It's spirited, happy, kind natured for such a rainbow-ish cartoon. Yes, I-I can sing that theme song – I can totally hear Sondheim in there now," says Eric.

"I know, it's so _obvious_. I don't know why the online world of bitches can't hear it," says Senn.

"Fucking whackos," says Basil.

"Yeah," Senn says.

"And that Fluttershy is actually kind of cute."

"We are proud. Proud you have learned to quash your freedom of speech. Proud of your obedience!" says Senn.

"So you see?" Basil asks.

"I… I think I do…" Eric gets off the chair he was sitting in.

"If only they all feel in line this easily," Senn comments to Basil.

"and something else has occurred to me…" says Eric.

"Oh, man, this is making me so how I wanna unload on this moment's wife and tell it to clean her up!" Senn blurts out.

Eric continues, "…just how I've wanted to _**KICK YOU IN THE NUTS!**_"

"Huh?" says Basil.

"'_n' there!_" Eric slams Basil in his balls.

"'_n' over __**there!**_" he punches Senn in his balls, too.

He then runs to the door, opens it and makes a mad dash for it.

"AWW!" Basil yells in pain.

"AWW!" Senn does as well.

"_AWWW_OOOHHH it feels so good!" says Basil.

They moan in pain on the floor.

.

Eric tries a door and finds himself in a loading bay. Seeing the bay door up, he runs for it.

"Hey!" shouts a delivery man.

Eric runs out the opened and unguarded back perimeter gate. He sees a parked pink Volt taxi and runs to it. He hops in.

The French woman speaks, "Avez-vous besoin de moi pour sucer vos boules?"

"Take me to the airport, pronto!"

She looks at him blankly.

"Get out of the way!" he pushes her out, "If you had nuts I'd punch you in the nuts, too!" and he floors it, speeding off.

The delivery man speaks into an orange-colored phone, "Code Orange!"

.

Stan walks to Mr. Kim.

"How's it going?"

"Eet uhlmohst fuhl nohw."

Stan turns to face the plane, "He's just about to finish re-fueling so buckle up."

"Wait – there are no buckles in here," says Kyle.

"You wahnt'ah buhckools? Eet cohst ehtrah!" and then Mr. Kim takes the re-fueling handle out and closes the tank back up.

Stand climbs in and takes a seat next to Kyle.

"What about Cartman?"

"This isn't war – its okay to leave people behind. Especially fat, racist pieces of shit."

"I find it oddly more accepting when you phrase it like that," says Kyle.

Alarms start sounding from all around them.

"They must know we're here! Let's get out of here!" Stan shouts.

"Howld ohn tou youhr sheets!" Mr. Kim says after climbing in. He flips various switches and knobs. He then picks up the intercom, "Theese iz youhr cahptin speeking. I wouhld like tou-"

"Will you just fucking _go?!_" Stan yells.

Mr. Kim finishes up quickly, "Ahnd az ohlwayz, thahnk youh foh fwiing Shitty Airlines," he holds the starter button down firmly until the plane is steadily idling. He pushes a lever and the plane moves quickly forward and out the hanger doors.

Eric races the airstrip perimeter fence. He sees Mr. Kim's plane coming about for a take-off lane.

"Ay, you assholes!" he rams the fence, knocking a section down and driving over it. He veers toward the plane, dragging fence behind him.

"What is that noise?" Kyle asks. He looks out a small window, "It's Cartman!"

"Go faster!" Stan shouts.

They hear gunfire and look back to see two DPS men firing their AK-47's. the men hop into a pink Volt and pursue.

"No, slow down so he can get onboard!" says Kyle to Mr. Kim.

"I cahn't – wee neehd speehd to geht leeft!"

Eric ducts as the DPS men fire. One hits the taxi.

"Come on, Eric!" Kyle shouts from the cracked-open door.

"Goddamnit, I'm trying!"

Eric achieves the same speed as the plane. The cart veers when he tries to let go of the steering wheel. He thinks for a second, then rips off his pink pony's tail wig, then ties who ends: one to the rearview mirror and the second to the windshield mirror, keeping the wheel straight. He floors the taxi up to the driver's side, as the wind from the propeller blows his hair about wildly. He stands and climbs on the passenger seat. The taxi starts to slow; as he comes to the door, he ducts to avoid the opened door and pops back up.

"I got you!" yells Kyle, grabbing Eric's hands. The plane lifts off the ground.

"AGH! Help me!" Eric screams.

"Don't let go!"

Stan holds onto Kyle, pulling him back as Kyle pulls Eric in.

"You did it!" Kenny shouts.

"Wow! That was way better than 'Man of Steel'!" Butters says, rejoicing.

Eric settles between Stan and Kyle as Kyle latches the door.

"Oh, Kyle – you saved my life."

"You're welcome. I'm just doing what any gentile following the path of his lord and savior Jesus Chr-"

"It almost makes up for all the evil Zionist things the Jews have promulgated upon the world."

"Goddamnit, you fat fucking piece of big-boned shit," says Kyle, pissed off.

"Hey – we neehd toh loohse weight incayse the tahnk a'leaks," says Mr. Kim.

"Jump, you fat fuck!" says Kyle to Eric, pointing at the door.

"Wait – I have an idea. Swing us around for a pass over the island. Guys, open your backpacks!" Stan commands.

The DPS officers stop firing.

"What the fuck? Why didn't we hit it? It's the size of a fucking airplane."

"Well, it hit the pavement," says the second DPS man.

"Ow! Fucking great! Now we have to patch the runway again and-" he stops mid sentence as the plane loops back right at them.

"I'm out," says DPS #2.

"Me, too. What are they doing?" he points.

Kyle drops something from the plane. It falls to the tarmac. Both DPs men duct to the ground, covering their heads.

"What is it?" asks DPS #2.

DPS #1 picks up a plastic bottle after getting up, "Ensure. **Ensure!**" he tosses it.

"OMG - torture!"

"Torture!"

Mr. Kim loops around the inner part of the island as Kyle dumps bottles of Ensure.

"AGH – torture!" says a Bronytopia citizen.

"Torture!" another shouts.

Kyle drops one on a taxi.

The passenger yells, "Ensure! Oh no! I'm too old to not die!"

Kyle drops more as the plane veers back toward the runway it took off from.

"Torture!"

"Torture!" another shouts.

"Agh! It's Orwellian!"

Senn and Basil Run outside the re-education prison camp complex, hearing alarms.

Basil says, "Zoddamnit – where is the little fat fucking pony denier?!"

"Up there! That's

Their plane!" Senn points.

A bottle of Ensure comes flying at Senn, hitting him in an eye, killing him instantly. He bends backwards and falls over onto the street, on a side, still bent in a "V" shape.

"No! My effeminate life partner!" Basil shakes a fist at the plane.

Another bottle of Ensure spins at his head, striking him in the soft spot, killing him instantly. He falls, too, onto the ground on a side in a "V" shape, leaving both of their butts in front of their faces.

As the plane pulls up and away, both Basil and Senn's muscles relax and they empty their bowels, spewing loose shit from their asses all over their faces and into their open eyes and gaping mouths.

"Hell yeah!" That was the most awesome vacation ever!" says Stan.

"Woohoo!" says Kenny, tying his hood back on.

Eric's eyes widen and he spins about to face Butters, "Butters! Please tell me you still have your cellphone!"

"Oh, well, let's see…" he reaches into his pants, "there it is!"

"Yes! I'm rich, Butters! When we get back , I'm gonna blow this whole Malaysian plane thing _wide open!_"

"Neat!" says Butters.

"God," says Kyle, praying, "please smite the anti-semitic heretic. Amen."

"Whatever," says Eric.

Butters' cellphone beeps, "Oh, I better check my text messages incase mom and dad tried to reach me. Let's see… Justin Bieber?"

"What? He's fucking dead! Amen," says Eric.

"Ew – I better check it then incase it's like some kind of super duper, super natural, other-worldly text message from beyond the grave!" he presses some buttons, "Agh! _Floppy wieners!_ Why the fuck do I keep getting floppy wieners _shoved in my face?!_"

Kenny laughs.

Stan speaks, "Dude, I'm tired. Let's just get some sleep before we get home. It'll be passed bedtime when we get there."

"Good idea," says Kyle.

The plane flies off into the bright afternoon day.


	6. Chapter 6

Stan, Kyle, and Kenny sit in the living room of Eric's house, playing video games. Eric comes downstairs.

Stan asks, "Well, did you find anybody who'd take the photo?"

"Goddamnit, none of these fucking pansy local stations would listen to me. I called the major cable news networks and they all laughed at me."

"What did you tell them?"

"I told them the truth: some kindergarteners gave us a tip Bronies did it, so we flew to the island of Russ Garcia and uncovered a secret society of Bronies they call Bronytopia, where we found Malaysian flight MH370 stored in a hanger. And that we escaped with the picture taken by a cellphone Butters hid up his ass, by using a trick you guys saw on 'MacGyver'. Finally, one cable news network offered to have me on."

Stan looks annoyed, "Who would be stupid enough to-"

.

Announcer: "You are watching CNN, where ratings don't matter!"

The camera man moves in on Eric and Butters, sitting on chairs next to a man.

"Hi, and welcome back. I'm your host, Don Edsel. We have with us two little boys from South Park, Colorado who claim to have an exclusive photo of Malaysian flight MH370 days after the crash, hidden on a secret island. Here to help us continu8e to milk the tragedy for the highest ratings we've gotten since the last tragedy, are Eric Cartman and Butters Stotch. Hello, boys."

"Hello, Don," says Eric, being friendly.

"Why, ah, hey there – it's a pleasure to meet you. Hey mom, hey dad!" waving to his parents just off screen behind the camera crew, with their arms folded, none too happy.

"So, tell the audience about your heroic take."

"Well-"

Eric cuts Butters off, "Well, first off Don, I wanted to say I care so much about humanity, so when this tragedy occurred, naturally I felt compelled to help."

"Right," Don acknowledges.

"And when I heard Bronies were secretly-"

"Bronies?" asks Don.

"40 year-old mentally deficient virgins who worship 'My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic', Don."

"Go on."

"So when I heard they were secretly hiding the plane, I gathered some of my brave friends, and Kyle, and flew to their secret island, Bronytopia."

"You know, we looked and we couldn't find Russ Garcia on the atlas or Google Maps."

"Oh, it's real, Don."

"Ah, maybe a small black hole got it."

Eric says, "Yeahhh, so anyway. They shot us down and held us prisoner."

"Wait – how'd you hide the cellphone?"

Butters answers, "Oh, well, I shoved it up my putter."

"Ah. Another small black hole. Go on."

Eric continues, "So we snuck into the airstrip where my friend here got a picture of it with his cellphone."

"Yes, sir-y, this very one," Butters says, holding up his phone; just then his cellphone beeps, "Oh, I got a text message. Who's Rich Dollaz?"

"Butters, not now!" Eric says, annoyed.

Don speaks, "Oh, he was a ratings bump for CNN for three whole days."

Butters says, "Hum," and he presses some buttons, "_Dangnabit!_ If I see a floppy wiener one more time … wait – can I say dangnabit on television?"

"Sure."

"Let me get back to the story, Don. So we fixed the plane MacGyver style and with bullets flying over our heads and at the plane, we took off. And then we dropped bottles of Ensure on them, killing the bi-ponial system leaders."

"Hum, sounds Orwellian. Well, since you aren't a member of the Tea Party and the murders didn't happen in the U.S. and we therefore can't use the tragedy to lie and push gun control, we here at CNN don't care how many people you murdered. Unless they were current celebrities. Or black. Or a muslim."

"Thanks, Don," says Eric.

Don then says, "So, without further ado, let's see that picture. Just to let our audience know, we agreed in advance to only pay you once we had the photograph but you've held onto it until now. Though we did cover the airfare. Go ahead."

"Butters, e-mail them the picture."

"Okie dokie. Let's see where it is…"

"It'll be just a moment, Don," says Eric.

"Okay."

"So many pictures of goshdarn flaccid wieners…" Butters searches.

"Hurry up, Butters! Technology today, Don."

"It's here somewhere…"

"Damnit, Butters, if you don't find that picture _right now_, I'm gonna kill you!"

"Oh, no!"

"Wait – you're not a minority are you?" Don asks Butters.

"Not that I know of," Butters answers.

"Goddamnit, Butters, I know you didn't delete it, so it's got to be fucking there!"

Don interjects, "Whoa, whoa, whoa – you can't say the f-word on live cable news! Unless you're Bob Beckel."

"Butters, I'm gonna count to three. _**One…**_"

"Agh! Agh!"

"_**Two…**_"

"_Aaaggghhh!_" Butters yells, frantically searching his cellphone.

"_**Three!**_"

"No, wait, I think I found it! Let me check."

"_Just fucking send it!_"

"Okay, okay, I sent it!"

Eric sits back in his chair, "Sorry about that, Don. I'm still a little frazzled from my heroring experience. Normally I have no malice toward mankind."

"Perfectly understandable. My producer is loading it to the screen here as quickly as possible; it'll be just a second."

Butters' cellphone beeps, "Sorry 'bout that, Don. I got another text message. Hum. This one says 'Anonymous Sender'. I better check who it's from…"

Don speaks, "And here's the picture of Malaysian flight MH370!"

"A saggy floppy penis! Wiat, there's something written on it…"

Don looks at the screen, "Wait, it's… that's not Malaysian flight MH370, that's a small penis!"

Butters reads from his phone, "'Winter is here'?"

"Butters, _**Goddamn you!**_" Eric screams ferociously.

"Wha?" he looks up at the screen, "Agh! My penis! No!"

"**Butters!**" his dad yells.

"Agh!" Butters exclaims.

"You're grounded, young man! Just _wait 'til you get home!_" his mother yells."Agh!"

"You're dead, Butters!" Eric leaps at Butters.

"_**AGH!**_" he drops his cellphone and it shatters on the floor into pieces.

"_**NO! **__The picture!_" Eric screams.

"You have a back-up, right?" asks Don.

"What? A back-up? No, we forgot to do that."

"Tisk. Oh, that's too bad, then we can't pay you anything," says Don.

"What?!" Eric shouts.

"Can someone get this kid's penis off the screen?" Don asks.

"**NOOOOO!** Fuck you, Butters!" and Eric starts chasing Butters around the stools. "You're dead!"

"Agh!"

.

A man turns off his TV. He spins around in his chair, revealing George R. R. Martin.

"fuck you; too many flaccid wieners in my show my wrinkly, hairy old ass. _**MUWAHAHAHAHA!**_"

.

Another television set tuned to CNN shows Butters being chased around the set by Eric, his mom, and his dad – who has his belt in a hand.

Don speaks, "We at CNN would like to once again apologize for thoroughly wasting your time. That's it for my show, I'm Don Edsel."

Kyle turns off his TV set, "Everything is once again right with the world."

His landline phone rings.

"Hello? Stan? Yeah, I just say fatass get cosmic justice, too. Well, I guess it's finally all over and things can go back to normal. Relatively speaking."

Cut to Stan on his bedroom phone, "Yeah. Now maybe I can get some peace and quiet around here. Yeah, you too. Goodnight," he hangs up and walks to his bed. He lays down on his back and then inhales and exhales a long breath. He lies there peacefully, but just as he starts to doze off he hears sounds of running and then stomping feet going upwards the stairs, with a distant but growing louder rapidly repeating shouts.

"_OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG!_" and then Stan's bedroom door bursts open, "**_STAN!_**"

Stan slowly opens his eyes, "No, no, no, no, _NO…_"

"You won't believe it! Another Malaysian airliner has crashed! _OMG!_"

Stan presses the ends of his pillow over his ears, "_GOD_**DA**-"

.

-THE END-


End file.

South Park, Humor, Mystery