Chapter Text
The roads of the once quiet, little, white trash mountain town were soon bustling to life once more. With the news of the vaccine becoming accessible, everyone was quick to assume life would finally be back to normal; the horrid condition that had broken so many was fading quickly, making its way back to a life of peace. Children were running up and down the suburban streets, the local homeless guy was taking a leak in the neighbor’s bush, and parents argued if the removal of masks was appropriate. One of the kids paused in their playing and asked the homeless guy to move, angering the man, and the two began to brawl. The parents, rather than stepping in to break up the roughhousing, began to fight over the ethics of a privileged child taking his anger out on the less fortunate, which, in result, made the parents begin to brawl as well…
Deranged events were a common occurrence within South Park, but what else would you expect when every child you come across is the product of two rednecks getting it on while drunk, ending in a shotgun wedding a month later once the pregnancy was discovered? Oh well, at least some of them would come out well-adjusted despite all circumstances. Or at least, he tried his best to be.
9-year-old Leopold “Butters” Stotch looked out the window of his bedroom sadly, watching all of the other kids in the neighborhood having the freedom to go out and play. The majority of students have ceased remote learning and returned to in-person schooling while poor Butters was left behind, living his life behind a screen. It was his fault anyways, he had the chance of being able to see his friends again and be a normal kid once more but just had to fuck it up by using the Lil’Q-ties anti-vax group as his method of doing so. His dad had a word or 346 to say about it which is how he ended up grounded “indefinitely”.
It wasn’t all that bad, though! He was allowed to talk to his friends through the window for 20 supervised minutes at a time if they happened to stop by, and a nice view of the street! Not to mention he could easily look down at all of the smiling faces of the kids playing and wishing to God or Jesus or whoever that it could be him instead and ‘why oh my god why can’t he just go outside please help [him]’.
Butters sighed and fell backward onto his bed, looking up at the ceiling with feelings of discontent. He was used to being grounded before, it just hadn’t ever been this intense. He was Week 5 into his 3rd grounding of the year, or was it Week 3 of the 4th grounding? His head spun with the numbers and gave up on attempting to decipher it all. All he knew is that it sucked. He knew that it was best for him, that his parents were just trying to raise him right, but he couldn’t help the feeling in his stomach that was telling him that this wasn’t right. Or maybe it was hunger? He’s nine, he doesn’t know how to tell these things apart.
A knock on his door interrupted his philosophical questions of isolation. In a flash, Butters sat up on his bed, tidied up his hair, and exclaimed, “Come in!”
The electronic lock on the door buzzed open and in entered both Stephen and Linda Stotch, the latter of which was holding Butters’ lunch. The two looked as if they were going out, a fact that usually wouldn’t interest Butters too much if he wasn’t in complete isolation for 90% of his day.
“Hi, Mom! Hi, Dad!” he waved happily as if he hadn’t seen them just 4 hours prior. “What are the two of you all dressed up for?”
Linda shot a quick glance at Stephen with a look of great distress who replied with a stare of equal uneasiness. Butters looked at the two of them with a small smile, completely oblivious to how troubled his parents appeared to be.
“Butters…” Linda began, as she handed him his plate. “You know how restrictions of the Coronavirus have started to dissipate?” Butters nodded, taking his lunch for the day without a singular care. Silence plagued the room in great tension, only interrupted by Stephen clearing his throat.
“Well your mother and I wanted to take advantage of this opportunity after being in isolation for so long,” he continued. “So we’re going to Denver to see that movie we’ve wanted to see for so long.”
Butters put aside his lunch and sprung up. “We are?? I get to go see a movie?? I’M FINALLY UNGROUNDED??”
“Butters…volume…” Linda muttered with her hands massaging her temples.
“Butters, no. You’re not going,” Stephen clarified with an exasperated tone. “When I said ‘we’, I meant ‘us’, me and your mother. I’m sorry but you’ve proven yourself to be quite irresponsible recently. You erroneously extended your supervised twenty-minute talking time to twenty-one minutes the other day.” Linda interrupts. “Now you’re reaching egregious volumes with your voice, not even appropriate for outdoor use!” She shakes her head, annoyed as Stephen continues; “If we can’t trust you with keeping yourself on time or at reasonable volumes in your socialization, then how can we expect you to behave yourself during a movie?”
Butters’s excitement quickly dwindled as he fell back onto his bed. His parents were right after all; he should’ve adhered to the twenty-minute limit and not manipulated the beliefs of Q-Anon as a sneaky method to touch grass.
Stephen smiled softly. “Hey, cheer up Butters! You get the entire house to yourself and of course, by that, I mean the confines of your room. But, if you follow our rules exactly and I mean exactly, we’ll discuss ungrounding you when we get back.”
Butters’s eyes lit up. Finally, he had a chance to get out! He reached around to grab a piece of notebook paper and a crayon, putting the paper on his nightstand and placing himself next to it in preparation to keep track of everything he needed to follow.
“Okay, shoot!”
“Well,” Stephen began. “You obviously cannot leave your room until we permit you to do so. We’ve adjusted the lock to have a new code across the other side so chances of escaping are limited, to say the least. Your room must be in perfect order, if anyone knocks on the door whether it be a postman or a neighbor you shall open the window to greet them; do not give any indication that you’re home alone.” Butters wrote furiously, ignoring spelling conventions for the time being. He looked up expectantly at Stephen to continue.
“Speaking of the postman, if any packages happen to be delivered, we’ve provided you with this,” he pulls out a rusty, old bucket with a rope tied to it, “...bucket, to pull them up. If it’s not addressed to you, do not open it. You may use your computer and iPad for beneficial and educational purposes. Linda, can you think of anything else I’m missing?”
Linda nods, her annoyance fades to cheer. “Oh, let me see! I would say don’t open the door to strangers but truly I believe you should not open any doors. Your social time is still expected to cap off at twenty minutes with the exception of receiving packages, and only call us if there is an emergency. But, I trust that we won’t be receiving any of those,” Linda said sweetly as she winked at Butters. “If you get hungry you have your lunch here, we have groceries expected to be delivered today that will likely have some things for you, and your dad can give you some money for a pizza or something or other. Did you get everything, sweetie?”
Stephen flipped through his wallet and set an old VISA aside on his son’s desk. Butters continued to write quickly until his crayon broke, wiping non-existent sweat off of his forehead as he handed the list to his parents. “I think so!”
Stephen took out his glasses and read the list critically with Linda looking over his shoulder. The two mumbled to one another and pointed out different notations to be made until they finally gave it back to him:
Stephen shook his head. “I expected better from you, Butters. When we’re gone make sure you keep up with your studies! Do not fall behind.” Butters nodded. The room felt tense with lingering feelings of judgment,dissipating upon seeing his father give him a soft smile and reach out for a hug.
Butters leaped into his arms, hugging both of his parents. “We trust that you’ll be good Butters, won’t you?” Linda asked in that wistful tone she’s known for.
The boy shook his head in agreement in return. “You can count on me, Mom and Dad! I won’t let you guys down.” The couple looked down at their son with pride. “We know you won’t,” Stephen said, sweet on the surface but laced with a cold demand for Butters to do what’s right. “See you when we do!” his father said as the door opened mechanically and closed with a loud, electronic buzz.
Butters was winding down from the encounter, a smile plastered on his face as he heard their footsteps go downstairs and out the door, waving to his parents out the window as their car drove away. He looked as the family vehicle only got smaller and smaller in the distance before it eventually turned out of view. He sighed as he reached over to grab his food and began to finally eat his lunch. With each bite, Butters began to feel his mind wandering; do other people’s parents give off such a grand departure when doing something as simple as going to see a movie?
He decided not to question it, shaking his head at the thought. He knows that his parents had his best interest in mind! They practically tell him everyday, right after they say their “good morning!”s and tell him thathe brushed his teeth out of order of washing his hair. Good times.
Once he finished eating, Butters put his plate aside and decided to get working on cleaning his room. No point in wasting any time, his parents could be back any sixty minutes to three hours from now!