Craig of the Dead

26. The Meeting of the Leaders (Plus Tweek) (Plus Stan) (Plus Kenny) Part 2

"Well," Kenny said, "If you must know Ms. Testaburger, I—"

"Nobody cares Kenny. Wendy, what did they mean by 'hang tight until we can come and get you'?" Craig furrowed his brow and began to twirl a ring on his finger, something Craig only did when he was thinking hard about something. Craig almost never twisted that ring, and when he did, it was a big deal. There was actually a rumor a while back that Tweek had a matching ring, but he wore it on his middle toe instead because he was afraid it would be stolen if he wore it on his hand. However, after a bunch of boys in our grade wrestled Tweek to the ground and took off both of his shoes and socks, we found out from a very pissed off Craig that he had found the ring on the ground, thought it looked cool, and kept it. It had nothing to do with their relationship at all.

"I assume it means that we should hang tight until they come get us." Wendy replied.

"No, what does 'come and get us mean'? Are they going to cure all the zombies, or just take survivors and abandon South Park and anyone who's infected, or are they only going to take a few people and leave the rest of us to die?" Craig bit his lip, his fingers drumming on the table.

"THEY'RE GOING TO LEAVE US! JESUS—"

"Craig, goddammit, you shoulda kept your mouth shut..." I muttered, but Craig was starting to make me nervous. Nothing really bothered him, but something obviously was worrying him now.

"Honestly, that's a pretty scary thought. I'd except something like that from Stan, but not you." Kenny said, leaning over to elbow me in the shin.

"What? No it's not! I'm the fun guy, right? I'm the relatable one!"

"Okay Mr. How-do-you-go-on-when-nothing-makes-you-happy." Kenny laughed.

"Wh--how--I'm pretty sure that was a private conversation with Mackey! How could you k--"

"I have my sources..."

"Shut up, both of you. Cartman, I think you should tell us what the literal fuck you've been doing this entire time." Craig snapped. He still looked pretty shaken up about the FBI's message. And I was still shaken up by Kenny's "sources". I wasn't the dark one, right? When I said that I had been really depressed and just not myself.

"Sweet! Thanks for the attention fags. Oh sorry Craig and Tweek, my bad. Faggots."

"Not funny." Craig grumbled.

"As soon as the first zombies started showing up, I knew that people needed a kickass hero to save them. Because every other canidate was either too dumb, too scared, or ginger, I had to become that leader, and I even protected them all from the walkers! Basically, I was everyone's saving grace. I made myself a kingdom, with me as the brave and merciful king—"

"YOU'RE SO FULL OF BULLSHIT, CARTMAN. I WAS FRIGHTENED, I WAS STARVING, I WAS TRAPPED. YOU LITTLE FUCK." Tweek sprung from his chair and slammed his hand into the table. "HE'S A LAIR! DO YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED? BECAUSE I CAN TELL YOU!" Tweek fished around in his pant pocket until he produced a ratty, blood-stained hat. Craig's old hat. He balled the dirty hat in his hands and threw it at Cartman. However, Tweek's hands were shaking badly, and the bloody ball hit me instead. I let it fall to the ground. It wasn't my problem, Craig would probably get it later. "ARGGG!" Tweek shouted, aggravated that he missed his target by a lot.

"No! This was my turn!" Cartman whined. "Tweek, I will get up and kick you in the nuts."

"No, you won't." I whacked him in the head with the end of my shotgun.

"Owwww." He moaned.

"Come on, I didn't hit you that hard."

"Yes you did."