The South Park Conspiracy

Tom's Rhinoplasty South Park Colorado 9:10 am

As usual, Tom had completed his extensive study of the patient's perceived shortcomings. He had then smiled reassuringly at the patient, as he considered the best procedure for correcting it, as only he could. He then made a careful calculation of the price. Only at that point did he actually speak to the patient.

"Well this certainly does present a challenge. Yes indeedy. A challenge. But not an insurmountable one." When the patient didn't speak, Tom chose the appropriate book from which the patient could select "the look" he wanted. He looked at Tom somewhat impatiently, as he scanned the options. Finally, the patient shut the book and instructed "Just match it."

Tom was disappointed in the patient's conventional selection. There was no artistry in that. The patient did not look like he would change his mind, however. Sighing in disappointment for this lost opportunity, Tom cut to the chase. In his experience, the quicker you dealt with the medical and financial details, the better. "I can do the procedure using only local anesthetic. But it'll cost you. I need to get your insurance information."

Tom's eyes got as big as saucers, flying saucers that is, when Alex Krycek pulled out a serious looking handgun equipped with a silencer. "This is my insurance. Do it." Suppressing his fear and cursing the new twists to the health care system, Tom began preparations to practice the illegal technology he had obtained from some nefarious Swedes. Krycek would get a left arm matching his right. Removing his leather jacket, Krycek once again congratulated himself on his perseverance in sifting through obscure "Top Secret" and higher security level computer files of numerous governments to identify state of the art research in artificial limbs. Who'd have believed that they were doing such advanced stuff in a small town in Colorado?

Mr. Garrison wrote the word describing the lesson for today on the black board. "Today children, we are going to learn about conspiracies. Aren't we Mr. Hat?" Mr. Garrison addressed his long time companion, with the exception of Mr. Hat's few months as a Green Bay Packers groupie.

"Yes, Mr. Garrison," replied Mr. Hat, who amused himself considering how little Mr. Garrison really knew about conspiracies. Mr. Hat, on the other hand, was far more conversant with the topic.

"Do you know what a conspiracy is children?" As usual, none of the children offered an answer. "Have you completed your reading assignment? From Joseph McCarthey to Oliver North is one of the most comprehensive treatises on conspiracy in America. Especially since the Lewinsky/Starr supplement came out. Yes Kyle?"

"My father says that the American people devote too much time, money and energy into investigations of dubious moral behavior of politicians and the problems and dilemmas of television characters."

"Quite true Kyle. Your father's observations directly speak to the subject of our discussion today. That is, the use of distractions and other sleight of hand to conceal the Truth. What the learned conspiracy scholars, and indeed we ourselves, must ask is what was the Democratic Party establishment really up to that they needed the complicity of Monica Lewinsky and Kenneth Starr to cover up. That is the question." When faced with the blank expressions of the children in the class, Mr. Garrison sighed and looked at Mr. Hat in despair.

"Mrrrrr. Garrmmnnr lyknnrr waggggggggg remmmannn ssttannnn cnscelnnn Xflnnnn fxnnnnnnnn drinnnnnn pirnngggar."

"That's right Kenny. The mass media has embraced the public fascination with conspiracies. A cover up, a specialized subtype of conspiracy, is the subject of the film Wag the Dog. Conspiracies have also been the subject of numerous books, such as The Matarese Circle by Robert Ludlam. But you must remember children. Conspiracies are real." Thinking that he might finally be getting through to them, Mr. Garrison, without even looking at Mr. Hat for inspiration, pressed on. "Have any of you come across references to conspiracies on your own? Wendy?"

"No Mr. Garrison, but I did think the Xfiles movie was lame."

"We all did Wendy. Didn't we Mr. Hat?"

"We certainly did. It did involve conspiracies, however illogical. So we should try and learn from it as well." This was quite a mouthful for Mr. Hat, causing Mr. Garrison some concern. Had Mr. Hat really been with Brett Farve all that time?

Then a miracle occurred. Something Mr. Garrison never thought he would see, so long as he was teaching this class. Eric Cartman raised his hand. "Yes Eric," Mr. Garrison said softly, so as not to spook the boy and shatter this delicate moment.

"I was on the Internet, and I learned a lot about conspiracies. First, there's an alien space station underneath the new Denver Airport. They spread all those stories about it being built on an Indian burial ground to explain anything weird that people might see there. That's a conspiracy."

"Ahhh. Sort of. Now then ..."

"And the Queen of England is in on it," Cartman continued. "She got off her crabby ass and took matters into her own hands, because all her sons are losers. She's buying up a whole bunch of land in Colorado, to secure her place in the new world order. She did it in exchange for the use of alien technology to allow her to live long enough for one of her grandsons to take the throne."

"Do you think she'll buy South Park Cartman?"

"She might Stan. She just might."

"Eric ..." began Mr. Garrison. While he hesitated to quash class participation from such an unexpected source, they needed to discuss the reading assignment to complete the lesson.

"The Masons built the underground base and put a homing beacon in the airport itself. Hiding in plain sight. This is another telltale sign of a conspiracy, isn't it Mr. Garrison?"

"Well yes, but ..."

"People that have spoken out on this topic, other than on the Internet it seems, have been killed. Probably by the shadow government. Or the grays. Or the reptilians. Or our own military. Killing or otherwise silencing witnesses is also a hallmark of conspiracies."

"Cartman?"

"Yes Stan."

"You've been surfing the Internet. The conspiracy sites."

"So."

"They monitor those things. They know you've been there. You're probably in danger. We know you. We go to school with you every day. You could've put us all in danger." A stunned silence greeted Stan's pronouncement.

"Who are They Stan?" Pip asked. He had wisely decided that it was prudent not to comment on Cartman's discussion of the Queen of England. This question seemed less likely to get him beat up.

"The ambiguous They," Stan offered.

"The shadowy figures who lurk in the darkness, pulling the stings of those who walk in the light to serve their secret agendas." Mr. Garrison, Mr. Hat and the rest of the children looked at Cartman in awe. He knew this stuff. The bell rang, signifying the end of class.

Recess was underway. All of the children attending South Park Elementary School were outside playing in the snow. They didn't particularly mind the driving snow storm, and the faculty and staff needed the break. Many of the boys were throwing snow balls at smaller boys and causing general mayhem. Stan, Kyle and Kenny were after more conspiracy information from Cartman.

"But Cartman, that doesn't make any sense. How could people put satanic murals right out in the open. Wouldn't someone say something?"

"Well Stan. If someone did say, "Hey get rid of those satanic murals," someone else could say that they just didn't appreciate art or something. The shadow government agents are wily. And not wimpy like government government agents."

"Real government agents aren't wimpy Cartman. Didn't you see US Marshals?"

"Yes I did Kyle, but my sources indicate that life doesn't imitate art in this particular case."

"Yeah. Real life isn't like the movies Kyle."

Kyle wasn't used to being at odds with both Stan and Cartman. Leave it to Kenny to change the subject. "Whtattt blllkkkk mmasndm vannnnnngghh graaannnhhmm winnnnggrr straaattttnnn snnnewnnn."

"What black van dude?" All four boys looked to the street outside the playground. Through the driving snow, they could just barely see a black van pulling away. "Did something fall out of it?"

Moving closer, the four boys noticed an open box lying on the ground. Emerging from the box were bees. "Bees in the snow. Cool." Cartman enjoyed observing animals outside of their natural habitat. They did the strangest things.

"Will they live?" Stan was a bit more sensitive.

"Do you think we could use this as our science project?" Kyle was the enterprising one.

At that moment, the bell ending recess sounded. "Wait dudes," Stan called. "They're trying to swarm. Look."

"Screw you guys, I'm going in," Cartman announced. He did not like to observe any potentially dangerous animal behavior, particularly when these could be killer bees brought up from South America in furtherance of some evil plot.

As the four boys went toward the school building, one enterprising bee approached and stung Kenny McCormick. Immediately, his pulse became thready. He breathing became rapid and shallow. He had a strange taste in the back of his throat. The other three boys broke into a run for the school nurse when Kenny collapsed.

"South Park, New Mexico you idiot! Not South Park Colorado. It's 16 degrees in Colorado with a wind chill factor of minus 2. What do you expect bees to accomplish under those conditions?" CSM struggled to regain his equilibrium when he hung up the phone. Things had been tough for CSM lately. He'd lost the space ship in Antarctica. He'd lost Gibson Praise and an alien that could communicate with him. Now this. He couldn't go to the Consortium with this. Not until the situation was "managed".

"What assets do I have in Colorado?" he wondered as he sat at his laptop computer. Entering Colorado in the agent search field and hitting the return key, brought some disappointing results. There weren't all that many. Most of them were in Denver dealing with various airport-related issues. All but one. What the hell was Krycek doing vacationing in a small town in Colorado? A few moments of further work on the computer gave CSM his answer. "He must've found out about the Swedish technology. Persistent. I'll give him that."

Reluctantly, given their somewhat troubled history, CSM picked up his cellular telephone and called Krycek's number.

"Krycek."

"Alex. How are you?"

"Been better. What do you want?"

"Surgery not go well?"

"The new arm's great. The rental car isn't. And it's snowing like a son of a bitch here."

"Too bad. Perhaps you can catch a movie at the local cinema."

"No thanks. I think they're playing some independent film about homosexual cowboys eating pudding or something."

"A massage? A mud bath? A lady of the evening?"

"This is a really really small town. I'm not even sure you could buy Morley's here."

"Well, if you have nothing else to do, you might have a look at the local elementary school."

"That's sick. Even for you."

"For bees. Look for bees."

"Peas?"

"Bees. Bees. With a "b"."

"Were you paying attention when I said that it was snowing like a son of a bitch here?"

"Yes I was Alex. I was listening very carefully."

"Looking for bees under these conditions is likely to be uneventful ... and cold. I think I'll see the movie after all."

"Alex, just listen for a moment. Please."

Please from CSM? This must be big.

Kyle, Stan and Cartman had prevailed upon Chef to carry their fallen comrade to the school nurses office. Nurse Gollum had then taken control of the situation. "What happened children?" she asked.

"Kenny was stung by a bee Nurse Gollum," Stan replied.

"Now Stan, it's winter. There are no bees in South Park in the winter."

"They came out of a box that fell out a black van," Cartman explained. "Probably South American killer bees brought north in furtherance of some evil plot."

"Please boys. You must tell me the truth, so that I can help your friend."

"It was a bee Nurse Gollum," Kyle insisted. "See." Kyle had noticed the expired bee and picked it up, still hoping to somehow get a science project out of all of this.

Faced with the physical evidence of the boys' story, Nurse Gollum administered an antihistamine. Eric Cartman watched in fascination. "Is that a vaccine? To protect Kenny against the alien DNA that has been genetically engineered into bees?" Nurse Gollum, Kyle, Stan and Chef stared at Cartman in disbelief.

"No Cartman. There's no alien DNA in this bee."

"How do you know? You haven't sampled the bee DNA. Or compared it to Kenny's DNA. Or anything! And you call yourself a nurse."

Sensing Cartman's rising panic, Nurse Gollum did what she had to do. Lie. "That's the next step Eric. Now you boys get back to class. I'll keep you posted."

Nurse Gollum then took Kenny's temperature and recorded pulse and blood pressure readings. All of these physiological parameters were lower than normal. As a result, Nurse Gollum wrapped Kenny in numerous blankets and adjusted the thermostat in order to increase the temperature in her office.

Through all of this activity, Kenny remained unconscious. He appeared to be having difficulty breathing. Nurse Gollum observed her patient's pallor with concern. There was nothing more that she could do. She picked up the telephone to dial 911. The phones were dead. The storm had taken its toll. There would be no ambulance to take Kenny McCormick to Hell's Pass Hospital. Not in this storm. And Chef couldn't take him, as he had Dr. Mephisto. He had to serve lunch in the cafeteria. There was no one else to do it. Resigned to retaining the responsibility for young Mr. McCormick, Nurse Gollum settled in to watch over the small boy.

Using all of the driving skill he could command, which he had to admit was aided by a more flexible left arm, Alex Krycek found the South Park Elementary School. Dressed in an ill-fitting suit, bland paisley tie and black parka that he had purchased an hour ago, he entered the building. Fortunately, he had never turned in or lost his Federal Bureau of Investigation badge. It would come in handy here.

Stopping a forty-ish balding man with a hand puppet in the hallway, Krycek sought directions. "Excuse me. Could you tell me where the nurse's office is?"

Mr. Garrison looked up impatiently. When his eyes met the green ones of the stranger, his breath became labored. His heart pounded rapidly and loudly. His knees became weak. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. He shut it and smiled tentatively.

Krycek sighed and tried again. "Maybe you call it an infirmary. A medical suite. I'm looking for the place where you'd take a kid that got stung by a bee."

"Why yes," Mr. Garrison managed to croak. His mouth was very dry. "It's right this way." Mr. Garrison was ecstatic when his "after you" gesture was taken to heart and the stranger preceded him down the hallway. The view was excellent. Mr. Hat showed remarkably less enthusiasm. Giving his full attention to the task at hand, Mr. Garrison failed to notice Stan, Kyle and Cartman approaching.

"Mr. Garrison," Kyle began. "Could we use a study of bees in winter as our science project?"

That question roused Mr. Garrison from contemplations involving hot fudge and handcuffs. That was the second time someone had mentioned bees today. Who else had? Oh yes. Him. "Where did you get that idea Kyle? This ... ahhhh ... gentleman is looking for bee sting victims."

"Kenny!" Stan, Kyle and Cartman shouted in unison.

"Who's Kenny?" Krycek asked, as he allowed himself to be propelled down the hallway toward the nurses office by the three boys.

"Who're you?" Cartman asked. All this talk of conspiracies had elevated his level of paranoia.

"FBI," Krycek intoned authoritatively.

"FBI?" Stan asked. "In South Park?"

"Are you here investigating the Queen of England?" Kyle asked.

"FBI agents are cool," Cartman announced. "Although agents of the shadow government are more highly cool."

Krycek looked at Cartman, trying not to smile. He was unsuccessful. Answering all of the boys in turn, he stated, "Yes. The FBI does come to small towns like South Park. If the situation warrants it. No. I'm not investigating the Queen of England. She's not buying land way out here. And why exactly are agents of the shadow government more cool than FBI agents?"

"Bigger guns."

Krycek laughed as they entered the nurse's office. "Can't argue with that ... ahhh ..."

"My name is Cartman. Eric Cartman."

"Pleased to meet you Eric. Holy shit!" Krycek had spotted Nurse Gollum and had been momentarily taken aback by the fetus attached to the side of her head. He had never seen anyone with that rare affliction before. "Pardon me Miss," he apologized softly. It was never good to upset the natives.

"Who might you be?" the nurse inquired.

"He's an FBI Agent," Stan replied. "He's here to see Kenny."

"Kenny is not up to having visitors, Mr. ..."

Glancing at Cartman, he replied "Krycek. Alex Krycek." The three boys looked at each other happily. Having an FBI agent at school kicked ass.

Then Cartman thought of something. "Hey. That bad guy on the Xfiles has the same name. You kind of look like him too."

"Tell me about it," Krycek replied irritably. "Those coincidences have caused me nothing but trouble."

Cartman reflected silently that strange coincidences were often associated with conspiracies. He didn't mention this aloud though. After all, Cartman believed that agents of the shadow government kicked more serious ass than FBI agents.

Krycek spotted Kenny swaddled in blankets at the far side of the room. Without asking further permission, Krycek moved toward him. He could see the sweat on Kenny's brow. If CSM's bees were of the variety Krycek suspected they were, the boy's temperature was too high. "Where's the bee?"

"In there," Nurse Gollum indicated.

"In the trash can?" Kyle shouted in dismay. "That bee is the specimen we need for our science project."

Krycek extricated the bee from the trash, examined it briefly and returned it to Kyle, cautioning, "Be careful with that." Turning his attention back to Kenny, Krycek was forced to admit that the situation was bad. Very bad. Standing up to his full height, Krycek turned on Nurse Gollum and spoke with authority. "With this variety of bee, raising Kenny's temperature will increase the chance of anaphylactic shock. We can't risk that." Before Nurse Gollum could protest, Krycek had closed the distance between himself and Kenny and had begun to remove the blankets. "Damn," he muttered as he observed the changes in Kenny's physiology that had already commenced. Covering the boy with just a sheet, Krycek met Nurse Gollum's eyes. "Get the temperature down in here. It's too damn hot."

Nurse Gollum moved toward the thermostat.

Cartman, Stan and Kyle were in line for lunch in the cafeteria. The special of the day was borscht. "Hi Chef," Stan said cheerfully.

"Hello children," replied Chef. "Anyone for red beets?" Each boy made their version of a "No way in Hell I'll eat that" face. Chef sighed. "Where's Kenny?" Kenny McCormick was not nearly as picky about food as these three.

"He's in the nurse's office with the FBI agent."

These boys had the most active imaginations. Best to play along. "I see. Maybe you should bring him some borscht."

"Do FBI agents eat borscht?" Kyle asked.

"No way dude. Russians eat borscht. Only traitors or double agents would eat borscht."

"Traitors and double agents kick ass!" Cartman interjected. "Except for eating weird ass shit like borscht."

Stan and Kyle reacted in unison. "Shut up Cartman!

"We've got to be careful," Stan continued.

Kyle, picking up on Stan's train of thought, suggested a plan. "Maybe we should offer it to him Stan. To make sure he's really FBI."

"A traitor or double agent working for the shadow government wouldn't eat it," Cartman asserted knowledgeably.

"Yeah. If he did, he'd blow his cover."

The three boys were holding up the lunch line as they considered their situation. Not to mention that they were making him nervous. Chef decided that he had to, once again, take them in hand. Guide them, as their parents seemed decidedly incapable of doing. "Children. Why would a traitor or a double agent come to South Park? Besides, the Cold War is over."

"It isn't over Chef," Cartman interjected. "It'll never be over. The Russians are merely lulling us into a false sense of security. With the Russian Bear brought to its knees, the biggest threat to our way of life has been neutralized. Causing us to become complacent. Allowing the Russians to ride out their economic collapse. If we're not careful, they'll be able to strike when we are in a state of limited readiness. Decommissioned military bases. Destruction of nuclear warheads. Decreasing commitment of career military. Smaller and smaller graduating classes at West Point, Annapolis and Colorado Springs. We are the architects of our own destruction. We have chosen to travel the road to ruin."

Eric Cartman was a scary little kid sometimes. This was the child who had come to the Halloween party dressed as Adolph Hitler. Chef decided to try and direct the conversation back to more mundane matters. "I meant for you to bring lunch to Kenny children," Chef clarified. "Borscht has excellent medicinal benefits."

"Is it good for bee stings?" Stan asked.

A figure in a white parka approached the entrance to the South Park Elementary School, pausing to survey his destination. Deciding to do some reconnoitering, the figure trotted around the school's periphery. Satisfied that he had identified all of the possible exits and was familiar enough with the lay of the land, the figure paused again in front of the school building. After a moment, the figure proceeded toward and through the door. He stopped just inside the door and surveyed his surroundings carefully. As he began to walk down the hall, he unzipped his parka and took off his hood. Pausing near the first doorway, he took off the parka entirely and placed it on the floor.

The alien bounty hunter was searching. Searching for an associate of a sort. Someone he very much needed to see.

Alex Krycek was pacing next to Kenny's bed. It was still too hot in the nurse's office. The heat was taking an inordinate time to dissipate. Kenny would fare better outside, but Krycek couldn't think of a plausible reason or effective strategy to get him there. Nurse Gollum hadn't relaxed her vigilance over her patient one iota. She also appeared to be watching Krycek like a hawk. Maybe that was just an illusion created by the presence of the fetus. Opening a window would help. How to get it done?

"I guess this kid's parents are pretty upset, not being able to get to him in this storm," he ventured.

Nurse Gollum reacted with a start. She hadn't called Kenny's parents. They'd probably be drunk or passed out, but that didn't excuse her actions. "Yes, I'd imagine" she answered vaguely, as she turned her back on Krycek and, trying to appear nonchalant, approached her office phone. Krycek moved quickly to the window and opened it. He was back to pacing, by the time Nurse Gollum had picked up the telephone only to be reminded that it was inoperative. Feeling foolish, she had then taken a moment to collect herself before resuming her vigil. Krycek hadn't needed the extra seconds, but appreciated them anyway. Further conversation was forestalled by the ringing of Krycek's cellular phone.

"Krycek."

"Alex. It's me. You've got a problem."

Krycek was satisfied with having the problem of an alien gestating in Kenny McCormick, with that gestation being accelerated by the heat in the room. That was quite enough for him. Having CSM alert him to another was unwelcome. Most unwelcome.

"What now?" he asked as he moved as far as possible from Nurse Gollum. He didn't need the added complication of a hysterical school nurse.

"Certain other interests have demonstrated curiosity with regard to the release of bees under more severe climactic conditions. They've sent a representative to retrieve any bee sting victims. A very determined representative. He has no scientific interest in the matter. His remuneration is tied to recovery only. No rules of engagement. No limits."

"Are we talking green blood here?"

"Yes."

"Damn. How much time do I have?"

"I'd plan on five minutes at most."

"Five minutes? You might've called earlier."

"You've been in need of a challenge. Wouldn't want you to lose your edge. Besides, you need to break in the new arm."

"Your concern is touching. When's the cavalry due?"

"I can get you some support and a sanitization crew in about forty-five minutes."

"What do you propose I do with him in the meantime? Go over the colonization plans? Ask him to skew the post-colonization male:female ratio further to the right than it is already? Get his opinion on the last episode of Seinfeld? What?"

"I'm sure you'll think of something. Remember. You can't let him have the host Alex. Or the new born, should there be one. That would be a disaster. An unmitigated disaster."

"I'll see what I can do."

Persuaded by Chef, Stan, Kyle and Cartman were bringing some borscht to Kenny. As they walked down the hallway, they noticed Mr. Mackey talking to a big body builder-type guy. "Who's dad is that?" Stan asked.

"Must be the new kid's. The one who always wears that red shirt with the Star Trek symbol." Stan and Cartman both nodded, accepting Kyle's assessment of the situation.

"Looks like the new kid needs a lot of guidance. OKKKAAYYYY."

"Without Mr. Mackey, he won't reach his potential. OKKKAAYYYY."

"Not even close. OKKKAAYYYY."

The three boys were giggling as they approached the nurse's office. They didn't notice the alien bounty hunter noticing them. They also didn't notice the alien bounty hunter hit Mr. Mackey in the solar plexus, immobilizing (and more importantly, quieting) him. While Mr. Mackey was struggling to take in some air, the alien bounty hunter locked him in his own office and began to move down the hallway.

Krycek unconsciously reached for his gun, when he heard sounds outside of the door. He kept his hand under his jacket, and moved away from the entrance. Getting a better angle. Fortunately, Nurse Gollum was checking on Kenny, and didn't witness Krycek's preparations for trouble. He relaxed fractionally, when the three boys he had met earlier burst into the office.

"Hey Kenny. We brought you some lunch. It's borscht. Russian red beets." Stan made the announcement, watching Krycek out of the corner of his eye. Stan sighed with relief, when he saw the man react negatively to lunch option. Good. He didn't know what he, Kyle or Cartman would do with a traitor or double agent in their midst.

"Kenny is resting boys. He'll eat later." Nurse Gollum had stationed herself between the boys and her patient.

"Cold borscht," Krycek muttered with distaste, shuddering. "There's not enough vodka in the world to make that palatable."

"Is Kenny ok?" Stan asked. His attention was focused on his friend. He looked ... funny. Kind of ... translucent. Really really pale. "He doesn't look so good."

"I'm doing all I can boys," Nurse Gollum stated firmly. "Having the three of you crowding around him isn't helping. Is it?"

Krycek was surprised when she looked to him for support. Adult-to-adult. Krycek was trying to think of a suitable response, when the school nurse's office door flew open. The alien bounty hunter stood at the threshold. He surveyed the room quickly, his eyes lingering on Kenny before focusing on Krycek. The alien bounty hunter smiled. Coldly. Stepping over the threshold. Watching Krycek move between him and the small boy he was sent to retrieve.

"Is that your partner?" Kyle asked Krycek, sensing that the response would not be affirmative. "FBI agents work in pairs - right?"

"Not exactly," Krycek muttered, reaching into the pocket of his suit jacket and extracting a small cylindrical metal object. "Why don't you boys ..."

Krycek's request was interrupted by Kenny McCormick. His chest was heaving. He was making strange guttural sounds. Sweat was flowing freely, soaking the sheet covering him. All eyes turned toward the boy. Nurse Gollum began to move in his direction. Krycek stopped her. "Over against that wall. Take those kids. Now!" Kenny's distress was increasing. He had been moving restlessly, but those movements had become more urgent. More violent.

"Look out Alex!" Stan, Kyle and Cartman shouted. The body builder had made his move. Their warning was just in time. Krycek was able to avoid the brunt of the blow; however, the alien bounty hunter had knocked him off balance and was on his way to Kenny.

"You leave Kenny alone," Kyle ordered defiantly. Stepping between the alien bounty hunter and his friend.

"Recognize his authority!" Cartman added from his position to the right rear of the bounty hunter.

Stan had moved to Kenny's side, determined to get his friend to a safer location. "C'mon dude. I know you're sick, but we've got to go. Now." Having explained the situation to his writhing friend, Stan pulled back the sweat-soaked sheet. And screamed.

Nurse Gollum had fainted. The bounty hunter had been looking at Cartman and Kyle in confusion. He didn't know what to make of these small assertive humans. He had encountered only a very few of the larger variety with such spunk. Krycek had righted himself, activated the weapon in his hand (the needle portion was now extended) and begun to close the distance between himself and the alien. At Stan's outburst, all eyes returned to Kenny, just in time to see the emergence of a creature with large teeth and claws from Kenny's chest. There was blood everywhere.

The newborn looked at Stan. Stan looked at the newborn and shouted. "Oh my God! You killed Kenny!"

"You bastard!" Kyle added.

The newborn did not seem to be impressed. It lunged for Stan. It was millimeters away from the boy, claws outstretched, when it was snatched out of the air. The alien assassin had caught it, holding it triumphantly away from his body. The newborn couldn't reach his captor. It's shriek of frustration and anger was piercing.

It's shriek became a piteous sobbing after Krycek emptied a clip into it. The alien assassin turned toward Krycek, eyes murderous. Dropping the dying newborn, he advanced on the former FBI agent. "So what did you think of the last episode of Seinfeld?" Krycek asked as he switched weapons once again. There was not even the hint of hesitation in the alien bounty hunters advance. "So much for that," he muttered, as he held the activated needle-like weapon where the bounty hunter couldn't avoid seeing it.

Neither man nor alien was paying any attention to the three boys. Stan, Kyle and Cartman huddled just to the right of the impending confrontation. "Tumble play. On two." Cartman and Kyle nodded solemnly as Stan barked the signals. "Hut one. Hut two." At the appointed signal, Cartman dove in front of the alien bounty hunter, getting into a braced position on his hands and knees. Kyle and Stan ran up behind the bounty hunter and pushed him forward as hard as they could. The alien bounty hunter tripped over Cartman and fell in a heap at Krycek's feet. Surprised but not frozen into inaction, Krycek used the specialized weapon unerringly. There was a brief struggle. When it ended, Krycek withdrew the weapon, sighed and stood slowly. Looking at the three boys, he wiped it on his suit jacket and put it back in his pocket.

That move seemed to unfreeze the tableau. "Wooooo Hooooo!" Stan shouted.

"We did it!" Kyle added.

"We kick ass!"

Krycek observed the youthful high fives and head butts in amazement. These little guys had no idea what they had just done. And they wouldn't be permitted to remember. Mind wipes were in their not too distant future. Unless ....

At that moment, the school nurse's office door opened again. Ten men in black suits entered. The squad leader approached Krycek. "Get these bodies out of here," he ordered. As his men moved to obey, he spoke to Krycek. "What else do we need to attend to?"

"The memories of the school nurse. She didn't really see much. A bit of fuzziness ought to do it."

"What about these kids?"

"They saw everything, but they're only eight years old. Who'd believe them?"

"Mulder."

"Sure, but he'd never convince Scully. Without that, he's got nothing. As usual."

The man in black nodded and went about his business. Sanitizing the area. Destroying and/or removing evidence. Distracting the boys' attention when Nurse Gollum was removed and when Krycek exited.

Mr. Mackey was amazed. Stan, Kyle and Cartman had each approached him within the last week. Stan wanted to be a detective. Kyle wanted to be a forensics expert. And Cartman. Cartman wanted to be an agent for the shadow government. Mr. Mackey had been able to convince him that the way to do that was to join the FBI, thereby becoming available for recruiting.

It had been a very rewarding week. If it weren't for those disturbing dreams about being locked up in his own office. "You can't have everything ... OKKKAAAYYYY," he thought.