Chapter Text
“Alright, you guys,” Cartman said, standing in front of the boys with a whiteboard. Scribbled across the board read: “SCIENTOLOGY SPEEDRUN.”
“This is going to make us so fucking famous!”
Stan blinked. “Dude…what?”
Kyle crossed his arms. “Cartman, how the hell would that make us ‘famous’?”
“Because, Kahl, Scientology is like almost impossible to fully complete, it also costs like a billion dollars, right? So if we beat it fast, then we become rich AND famous!” Cartman rambled.
Kenny muffled something along the lines of “Sounds like a video game.”
“Exactly, Kinny!” Cartman pointed at him dramatically, grinning.
“We treat it like a video game speedrun. Go in, do all their stupid levels and quizzes, skip stupid side quests, and uncover their secrets before they can charge us!” Cartman gasped, “Oh my god they are probably all aliens or something! See, this is why we need to be quick.”
Stan rubbed his face, “That is not how religions work, Cartman.”
“Not with that attitude.” Cartman huffed.
Stan pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, knowing with Cartman this would just be an endless cycle once again.
…
The Plan
- Step one: Free personality test
- Step two: Avoid paying money (possibly must murder for this part)
- Step three: Reach the second floor ASAP (boss located here)
- Step four: Meet Tom Cruise (secret boss)
Kyle squinted, trying to decipher Cartman's horrendous handwriting.
“Murder? Tom Cruise? The fuck, there's no way this works.”
“Dude,” Stan added, “You can't speed run a CULT.”
Cartman gasped. “Wow, Stan, you two? Listen to these negative Nancys over here, Kinny.”
Kyle glared at him.
“No, seriously,” Cartman continued, “You guys are like NPCs saying ‘you can't go this way yet.’”
That got a laugh out of Kenny.
“FINE,” Kyle finally interjected, shutting him up. “We will do your stupid plan, okay? But if we are going to get arrested or die-”
“Or get recruited into another cult, signing away our souls for a billion years,” Stan added helpfully.
“We are not doing it by ourselves.” Kyle finally finished his lingering sentence.
“Aw, lame dude,” Cartman protested.