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This Thursday afternoon was like many other Thursday afternoons in South Park. There was fresh snow, school was ending for the day, and Eric Cartman was in detention. He would be cooped up in the library for an hour, but it was all so worthwhile. He couldn't help but smile even as Mr. Mackey instructed the delinquents, "Use your time to study and reflect on your behavior, m'kay." Cartman had spent enough afternoons in detention that he could have recited Mr. Mackey's detention spiel by heart. With a glazed-over look on his face, Cartman mouthed the words, cocking his head slightly for the "m'kay". Several other students giggled at the perfect imitation.

The heaviest volume of the Encyclopedia Banalica dropped on the table, startling Cartman out of his chair. "Jesus Christ!" he sputtered, looking up to see frustration sprawling across Mr. Mackey's face. The other students laughed a little louder this time.

"I suppose you think being disrespectful is funny, Eric?" Mr. Mackey's glare followed Cartman as he climbed back into his seat. "Well, it's not, m'kay. And neither is attempting to drown another student in the swimming pool."

"I was just baptizing Kahl. It was for his own good." Already, Mr. Mackey had ceased to listen. As Cartman took time to reflect on his behavior, he shrugged and decided: Baptizing, drowning. Whatever's clever. Would have served that Jew bitch right if he drowned. Just like that, he dreamily recalled Kyle thrashing under the water and seeing fewer and fewer bubbles rising to the surface. It was simply beautiful.

Mr. Mackey headed for the door, then turned to remind the students, "Now, I need to step out for a brief meeting. I'll be right across the hall. No talking or tomfoolery while I'm gone." The double doors swung closed. And open. "M'kay." And closed again.

An announcement crackled through the speakers. "Good afternoon, South Park Elementary. Would Mrs. Garrison please report to Principal Victoria's office? Thank you."

Cartman yawned, stretched, and stood. "It's been a tough day in detention, you guys. Finally, it's time to go home."

A couple of second-graders, doing time for smearing boogers, looked at each other quizzically. "Um, Mr. Mackey told us to stay here."

"Hello? No Mackey, no detention. Screw you guys, I'm going home." Cartman slid out of his chair and waddled out the door as fast as his legs would carry him. The handful of students who remained could not resist the open door and scuttled out after Cartman, quickly overtaking him. The two second-graders skipped joyfully, trailing their sticky hands along the walls. Cartman huffed and puffed, trying to keep up. He turned a corner only to be met with a gate blocking the way to the outside. "Aw, goddammit!" he rasped, then turned around, nearly running into Mrs. Garrison. Cartman darted into the janitor's closet before he could be seen, and Mrs. Garrison continued on her way to the meeting with the principal.

Safe inside the closet, Cartman sat in front of an air vent, which blasted him with gusts of cold air. Once he was sure that there was no one in the hallway, he reached for the doorknob, but stopped himself when he heard Butters' little voice. He looked around for the source, then pressed his ear against the vent. If he focused his attention, amidst the whoosh of air, he could hear everything.

Hearing the office door open, Butters sat bolt upright and looked to see who was coming in. Oh, it's only Mrs. Garrison. Butters tried to do all the right things; he listened, he tried to be helpful, and he told the truth. Just the same, he was back in the office, sitting across from Mr. Mackey, waiting for his parents to arrive.

He tapped his knuckles together. "Am I in trouble? What'd I do?"

"No, Butters, you're not in trouble, m'kay. But I'd like us to have a little talk with your parents."

Butters tried to believe that he was not in trouble because Mr. Mackey told him so. Still, he had a feeling that he would be in trouble very soon. Mr. Mackey also appeared to be analyzing his every movement, so Butters tried to act natural. "Uh... Lu lu lu, I've got some apples. Lu lu lu, you got some too." His voice was shaky. I musta done something awful if he won't tell me what it is till Mom and Dad get here. "Lu lu l-lu, let's make some applesauce... take off our clothes... and lu lu lu..."

"Oh, Jesus. I can't wait to hear this one explained," sighed Mrs. Garrison.

Mr. Mackey's eyebrows rose high on his large forehead. "'Take off our clothes and lu lu lu?' I'd like you to tell me what that means, m'kay."

The sound of footsteps and agitated adult voices in the hallway called Butter's attention. "Uh-oh." His hands fluttered anxiously when Principal Victoria and his parents stepped in.

"Please have a seat, Mr. and Mrs. Stotch," Principal Victoria gestured them to the chairs on either side of Butters. "I'd like to thank you both for taking the time to come in."

All eyes were on Butters. He didn't dare breathe.

"What's he done now?" barked Mr. Stotch.

"I only want to share some concerns about some comments your son made at a class meeting with the guidance counselor."

Butters wanted to disappear. Whatever I said, I know Mom and Dad are gonna be sore.

"Butters! Were you using foul language? Didn't I teach you anything about..."

Mr. Mackey forced a little power into his voice. "Mr. Stotch, I recently had a dialogue with your son's class, m'kay, due to several students' complaints about the behavior of a school employee. During that conversation, Butters made a statement about some... um... sexual activity going on between him and one of his family members, m'kay."

"Huh?" gasped Butters.