Of all the churches the McCormicks could have joined, it had to be the church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.

Kenny suspected it might have had something to do with the fact that those happy bastards made it so the McCormicks didn't have to do a thing. They offered to drive them to and from church, offered to have lessons at their home, and even offered up the services of the congregation for tasks Carol and Stuart McCormick were too wasted to bother with themselves, like cleaning up their home and lawn. Even the homeless people who camped near and around their home liked it when the church came by and offered their services. Mormons were truly a selfless lot, especially since the McCormicks couldn't repay them at all.

And yet being Mormon was so difficult that most of the time it wasn't worth the effort it took to pretend. Most of the time Stuart wasn't on board, keeping his Pabst Blue Ribbon hidden only when he saw the missionaries hanging around. Carol refused to give up her coffee. They still hadn't gone to the Temple in Denver to receive their endowments or get sealed. There was always some obstacle they claimed to need to overcome, though they had been baptized members for years.

Because of the shortcomings of their parents, most of the duties of the religion fell on the children. Kevin, Kenny and Karen were forced to learn all the Primary songs, sit through baptisms and even lead some services in prayer. They didn't seem to care that Kenny absolutely hated public speaking to the point that he would just mumble incoherently and sneak in a few sinful words here and there just to sate himself during Sacrament Meetings.

It wasn't all awful. Gentle Karen seemed to take to the doctrine easily, joining the Young Women's Choir and adhering strictly to the Words of Wisdom. She did her best to keep her family in line and even took part in the most difficult aspect of the church: tithing.

Karen gave up ten percent of her measly earnings the second she turned sixteen and began working at Baskin Robbins. As the only McCormick to tithe, she carried the entire family's fate in her hands and if anything, it only added to the guilt that slowly ate away at Carol and Stuart who, after a deafening yelling match, managed to coerce their other two children into giving a one-time donation of their own money as "payment" for all the nice things the church did for them over the years.

After that incident, Kenny eagerly awaited his eighteenth birthday so that he could, once and for all, rid himself of the hold the church seemed to have on him. No amount of chili dinners and community events could make up for the time and energy it took to make it to church every Sunday and sit through three hours of repetitive Book of Mormon stories. He would be an adult, make his own decisions, and finally rid himself of the smiling, cornstarched fate.

It was no secret that Kenny McCormick was anything but angelic. Some would say his heart was in the right place, and while that may have had something to do with growing up with the Doctrine and Covenants, there were so many aspects of the church he simply could not live with and no matter how much his parents tried to guilt him into staying, he would ultimately make the decision to leave.

Unfortunately this meant he was stuck with the faith until then, which meant suffering through seminary. Whoever decided it was a good idea to have high school boys wake up at five in the morning for extra church during the school week had either a warped sense of humor or none at all. Really, Kenny would have run away from home or given up completely if it hadn't been for one tiny problem: there was something to be said for the way all Mormons held secrets and in this case, the secret was in the form of one of the biggest taboos of the church: homosexuality.

Kenny knew he was pansexual from a young age. Just as he was opening up to the world of women and his father's not-so-well-hidden magazines, his body opened up to the idea of men. No. People. Humans were sexual creatures, drawn to the act biologically. To Kenny, sex was an artform and people themselves were moving sculptures. That might have been part of the reason why, despite his inclination toward the more sinful pleasures in life, his chest contained a heart big enough to love anyone and everyone.

Leave it to his budding adolescent mind to confuse being nice with the need to gluestick it to religion.

The problem was that one of these walking artforms happened to be in his seminary class: Gary Harrison. Outspoken and kind, but with an unwavering devotion to Heavenly Father, Gary made seminary classes worth waking up before the sun. Kenny would watch him silently, hating himself that he couldn't make a move. Though it wasn't more than a crush, he let Gary crawl under his skin and nest there, feeding him such absurd ideas of what the future would be like if only more people were brought to the truth about the Gospel.

Gary had only one goal in mind after graduation. He'd been working toward it for most of his adolescent life: becoming a missionary.

Kenny didn't want to think about it. He was done at eighteen. Had to be.

But the thought of possibly sharing a small apartment with Gary enticed him. Corrupted him in a way Kenny didn't want to be corrupted. Where most guys his age were falling into the familiar rhythm of weed and video games, Kenny felt the pull of another tempter.

So when the fated day arrived and Kenny turned eighteen, it was at the delight of his parents and his little sister that he join the ranks of the other missionaries.

Due to the nature of how forgiving the church was, Kenny was told that he could stop at any time. He'd been given multiple chances, with various Bishops and other church elders asking him if he was certain of his choice. He was asked so often that he wondered if they could see right through him—that he was in this for all the wrong reasons, that he was an abomination to the church.

It amused him, actually, knowing that he was inside the church for all the wrong reasons and that no one had enough of a stick up their ass to call him out on it. They were so desperate for the numbers that maybe they thought Kenny would be a valuable asset. Maybe he brought something youthful and new to the table. He wasn't a bad looking kid so maybe they thought he would bring the Holy Spirit to young women and strengthen their numbers. Whatever the cause, a few months into becoming legal, Kenny found himself, Gary, and a few other boys from their hometown on a bus to Denver, awaiting one of the members of the Chorum of the Seventy to give them their assignments.

They were already required to wear their uniform: a starched and ironed white dress shirt with black slacks and a tie. The belt cut uncomfortably into Kenny's sides and he sighed, feeling naked without his trademark orange parka. He'd been forced to cut his blond locks shorter. His hair hadn't been long by any means, but he liked the shagginess. It made him feel like he could hide under his hair, but now he had no excuse. Anyone could see anything written directly across his face, naked and bare. The worst part of the uniform was the nametag, a simple black glossed pin that read "Elder McCormick." It was the term 'elder' that bothered him. In order to become a missionary, Kenny had to undergo initiation into the Aaronic Priesthood which meant he could now baptize someone in the eyes of the church. This made him, at eighteen, an 'elder.' The title carried with it too much responsibility that Kenny knew he didn't deserve.

Already this was a mistake. Maybe he could hightail it out of there the next time some elder somewhere asked if he wanted out. Yes, that was the right course of action.

Kenny turned to Gary and nudged him with his shoulder. They were supposed to be listening as one of the Chorum, an old, white-haired dinosaur with hunched shoulders and a monotone voice, gave a speech about how important missionary work was to the church. It felt like a repeat of everything Kenny had already heard in the dozens of preparatory speeches other members of the church gave them. Still, Gary looked enthralled so that when Kenny nudged him, he gave Kenny the most forced smile Kenny had ever seen.

And it was still glorious. Stupid Gary and his stupid symmetrical face.

"Are you excited to start the newest chapter in our lives?" Gary whispered, probably thinking that this would convince Kenny to hold still and listen.

"Mm.." Kenny hummed in a way that very much indicated he was on the fence about this. Which he was. Indefinitely. "More like wondering if they received the request I sent in that we be paired up together."

Gary was silent for a second and Kenny couldn't tell if it was because he wanted to listen to the elder speaking or he was thinking, himself.

"Part of the lesson we learn as missionaries is to work with new people," Gary said eventually. "We aren't supposed to be paired with someone we know."

Kenny stopped trying to watch Elder Dinosaur and turned to face Gary directly.

"You knew we would be separated?" he hissed. "Why tell me this now?"

"It won't be so bad Elder McCormick," Gary said, saying his name the way he was supposed to now that they were missionaries. It made a piece of Kenny's guy twist horribly.

Two could play at that game. "I guess we'll just have to see, Elder Harrison."

Unlike Kenny, Gary seemed to preen at the new title. Kenny folded his arms and visibly slumped in his seat. Things were getting worse by the second. If Gary was going to act even more standoffish than when they were in school together, Kenny wasn't sure if he wanted to be paired with him. Kenny hoped his partner wouldn't be this stuck up.

Oh wait. They were all stuck up. Kenny surveyed the room through half-lidded eyes. There wasn't a lot of diversity in Colorado, making most of the room look as pale as the snow that surrounded them. With every boy having a similar haircut and uniform, it only added to the cookie-cutter atmosphere. Even Gary looked less attractive against the backdrop of monotony.

Suddenly, the elder's voice took on a different tone, and most of the missionaries sat up a little straighter. Kenny did too, but only because it seemed like something was about to happen.

"Again, President Nelson would like to thank all of you for your dedication to Heavenly Father and serving your brothers and sisters in Christ. Each of you will be given your assignment and the name of your partner. I personally would like to wish you luck on your mission and hope the Spirit moves and guides you on your journey. I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ, amen."

"Amen," came the chorus of overwhelmingly male voices.

They were divided alphabetically and as Kenny became separated from Gary, he knew his request wouldn't go through. He had been a fool, letting a crush get the better of him, trapping him in a world of white bread and plastic cheese. A rush of anger enveloped Kenny in that moment. He wasn't going to let this get the better of him. He was going to get out of this and find a way to pay for college on his own. Maybe work at a fast food restaurant until he could get his feet on the ground. He wasn't even getting paid for this he—

-he stopped because he found himself in front of a table and needed to give the church member his name. The man handed him a manila envelope and sent him on his way.

That was it. Kenny's whole life was changing and it all came down to some stupid yellow-ish folder.

He opened it with some amount of annoyance and skimmed through the papers.

The church could have sent him anywhere: France, Canada, Guam, Japan… Perhaps going to an exotic and foreign locale would be good for him. He could learn so much about the culture and sight-see. It would have made taking two years out of his life seem worth it if he at least got a good story out of it. Plenty of missionaries came home with stories and scholarships… Kenny could at least deal with it if something good came out of it… but…

Of course he wouldn't be that lucky.

He was assigned to the middle of the stalest part of America.

Missouri.

And his partner's name?

Leopold Stotch.

What kind of name was Leopold? He sounded like a pretentious goober who was going to come home to a brand new car and a full ride to whatever State College he wanted. Kenny hated him immediately.

He hated everything about this.

Being a missionary was going to suck balls.