Stan, Kyle, and Kenny sit in the living room of Eric's house, playing video games. Eric comes downstairs.

Stan asks, "Well, did you find anybody who'd take the photo?"

"Goddamnit, none of these fucking pansy local stations would listen to me. I called the major cable news networks and they all laughed at me."

"What did you tell them?"

"I told them the truth: some kindergarteners gave us a tip Bronies did it, so we flew to the island of Russ Garcia and uncovered a secret society of Bronies they call Bronytopia, where we found Malaysian flight MH370 stored in a hanger. And that we escaped with the picture taken by a cellphone Butters hid up his ass, by using a trick you guys saw on 'MacGyver'. Finally, one cable news network offered to have me on."

Stan looks annoyed, "Who would be stupid enough to-"

.

Announcer: "You are watching CNN, where ratings don't matter!"

The camera man moves in on Eric and Butters, sitting on chairs next to a man.

"Hi, and welcome back. I'm your host, Don Edsel. We have with us two little boys from South Park, Colorado who claim to have an exclusive photo of Malaysian flight MH370 days after the crash, hidden on a secret island. Here to help us continu8e to milk the tragedy for the highest ratings we've gotten since the last tragedy, are Eric Cartman and Butters Stotch. Hello, boys."

"Hello, Don," says Eric, being friendly.

"Why, ah, hey there – it's a pleasure to meet you. Hey mom, hey dad!" waving to his parents just off screen behind the camera crew, with their arms folded, none too happy.

"So, tell the audience about your heroic take."

"Well-"

Eric cuts Butters off, "Well, first off Don, I wanted to say I care so much about humanity, so when this tragedy occurred, naturally I felt compelled to help."

"Right," Don acknowledges.

"And when I heard Bronies were secretly-"

"Bronies?" asks Don.

"40 year-old mentally deficient virgins who worship 'My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic', Don."

"Go on."

"So when I heard they were secretly hiding the plane, I gathered some of my brave friends, and Kyle, and flew to their secret island, Bronytopia."

"You know, we looked and we couldn't find Russ Garcia on the atlas or Google Maps."

"Oh, it's real, Don."

"Ah, maybe a small black hole got it."

Eric says, "Yeahhh, so anyway. They shot us down and held us prisoner."

"Wait – how'd you hide the cellphone?"

Butters answers, "Oh, well, I shoved it up my putter."

"Ah. Another small black hole. Go on."

Eric continues, "So we snuck into the airstrip where my friend here got a picture of it with his cellphone."

"Yes, sir-y, this very one," Butters says, holding up his phone; just then his cellphone beeps, "Oh, I got a text message. Who's Rich Dollaz?"

"Butters, not now!" Eric says, annoyed.

Don speaks, "Oh, he was a ratings bump for CNN for three whole days."

Butters says, "Hum," and he presses some buttons, "Dangnabit! If I see a floppy wiener one more time … wait – can I say dangnabit on television?"

"Sure."

"Let me get back to the story, Don. So we fixed the plane MacGyver style and with bullets flying over our heads and at the plane, we took off. And then we dropped bottles of Ensure on them, killing the bi-ponial system leaders."

"Hum, sounds Orwellian. Well, since you aren't a member of the Tea Party and the murders didn't happen in the U.S. and we therefore can't use the tragedy to lie and push gun control, we here at CNN don't care how many people you murdered. Unless they were current celebrities. Or black. Or a muslim."

"Thanks, Don," says Eric.

Don then says, "So, without further ado, let's see that picture. Just to let our audience know, we agreed in advance to only pay you once we had the photograph but you've held onto it until now. Though we did cover the airfare. Go ahead."

"Butters, e-mail them the picture."

"Okie dokie. Let's see where it is…"

"It'll be just a moment, Don," says Eric.

"Okay."

"So many pictures of goshdarn flaccid wieners…" Butters searches.

"Hurry up, Butters! Technology today, Don."

"It's here somewhere…"

"Damnit, Butters, if you don't find that picture right now, I'm gonna kill you!"

"Oh, no!"

"Wait – you're not a minority are you?" Don asks Butters.

"Not that I know of," Butters answers.

"Goddamnit, Butters, I know you didn't delete it, so it's got to be fucking there!"

Don interjects, "Whoa, whoa, whoa – you can't say the f-word on live cable news! Unless you're Bob Beckel."

"Butters, I'm gonna count to three. One…"

"Agh! Agh!"

"Two…"

"Aaaggghhh!" Butters yells, frantically searching his cellphone.

"Three!"

"No, wait, I think I found it! Let me check."

"Just fucking send it!"

"Okay, okay, I sent it!"

Eric sits back in his chair, "Sorry about that, Don. I'm still a little frazzled from my heroring experience. Normally I have no malice toward mankind."

"Perfectly understandable. My producer is loading it to the screen here as quickly as possible; it'll be just a second."

Butters' cellphone beeps, "Sorry 'bout that, Don. I got another text message. Hum. This one says 'Anonymous Sender'. I better check who it's from…"

Don speaks, "And here's the picture of Malaysian flight MH370!"

"A saggy floppy penis! Wiat, there's something written on it…"

Don looks at the screen, "Wait, it's… that's not Malaysian flight MH370, that's a small penis!"

Butters reads from his phone, "'Winter is here'?"

"Butters, Goddamn you!" Eric screams ferociously.

"Wha?" he looks up at the screen, "Agh! My penis! No!"

"Butters!" his dad yells.

"Agh!" Butters exclaims.

"You're grounded, young man! Just wait 'til you get home!" his mother yells."Agh!"

"You're dead, Butters!" Eric leaps at Butters.

"AGH!" he drops his cellphone and it shatters on the floor into pieces.

"NO! The picture!" Eric screams.

"You have a back-up, right?" asks Don.

"What? A back-up? No, we forgot to do that."

"Tisk. Oh, that's too bad, then we can't pay you anything," says Don.

"What?!" Eric shouts.

"Can someone get this kid's penis off the screen?" Don asks.

"NOOOOO! Fuck you, Butters!" and Eric starts chasing Butters around the stools. "You're dead!"

"Agh!"

.

A man turns off his TV. He spins around in his chair, revealing George R. R. Martin.

"fuck you; too many flaccid wieners in my show my wrinkly, hairy old ass. MUWAHAHAHAHA!"

.

Another television set tuned to CNN shows Butters being chased around the set by Eric, his mom, and his dad – who has his belt in a hand.

Don speaks, "We at CNN would like to once again apologize for thoroughly wasting your time. That's it for my show, I'm Don Edsel."

Kyle turns off his TV set, "Everything is once again right with the world."

His landline phone rings.

"Hello? Stan? Yeah, I just say fatass get cosmic justice, too. Well, I guess it's finally all over and things can go back to normal. Relatively speaking."

Cut to Stan on his bedroom phone, "Yeah. Now maybe I can get some peace and quiet around here. Yeah, you too. Goodnight," he hangs up and walks to his bed. He lays down on his back and then inhales and exhales a long breath. He lies there peacefully, but just as he starts to doze off he hears sounds of running and then stomping feet going upwards the stairs, with a distant but growing louder rapidly repeating shouts.

"OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG!" and then Stan's bedroom door bursts open, "STAN!"

Stan slowly opens his eyes, "No, no, no, no, NO…"

"You won't believe it! Another Malaysian airliner has crashed! OMG!"

Stan presses the ends of his pillow over his ears, "GODDA-"

.

-THE END-