Kenny

Sound: the sickening screech of metal, the crunch of snow, and someone's distant cry, "Oh, God, they killed Kenny!" Paradise. A snow-white hallway with doors like those in a motel. Kenny stands in his orange jacket, but without the hood. Scratching the back of his head. Kenny: sighs. Well, damn, here we go again. Eighth time this week. And this time I wasn't even hit by a car—it was just an icicle. How, oh how could an icicle fall hard enough to crack your skull? Knocks on the door with the "Reception" sign . Hey! Anyone there? I'll just pop in! Just don't include that magical music and meeting Grandpa, I haven't finished the movie yet! The door opens. A piece of paper flies out and sticks to Kenny's forehead. He takes it off and reads it. A voice from behind the door (bored): "It's overcrowded. The waiting list for resurrection is three thousand years. Or use the Express Reincarnation service—conditions: temporary placement in the nearest available body." Kenny: crumpling the paper angrily. Are you kidding me?! Three thousand years?! What's this "express"? Voice: "Instant download. But this body is not yours. You become a passenger. We ask you to sign the consent form by pressing the red button." Kenny sees a big red button on the wall that says, "DO NOT PRESS THIS IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BECOME A PASSENGER. " Kenny: shrugs and presses the button. Well, it certainly won't be worse than in my basement. A sharp bang. The image blurs. Kenny feels like he's somewhere, but... he can't feel his body. He tries to raise his hand, but it's not his—it's small, plump, in a plaid shirt. Butters: "Oh... I feel weird... my head h-hurts oh." Kenny (inside): mentally, panicked What the… BUTTERS?! No, not that! Not that beaming idiot! Hey! Butters! Stop! Pull your ear if you can hear me! Butters: Hmm... That's weird. Did I imagine it, or did someone just say my name? But I'm alone. It must have been the wind. Kenny (inside): I'M NOT THE WIND! I'M KENNY!