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Main Campfire | Afternoon | Tuesday | June 7

Nathan wasn't sure how he felt about all this cabin shit. On the one hand, it was a bed and after sleeping on the floor in a community center for months, beds were always good. On the other, there was like no fucking privacy. There was less privacy than in the regular dorm rooms and those were pretty damn open and exposed.

Nathan sighed and lit a cigarette. He wondered if sitting around a campfire meant he was supposed to sing campfire songs or if he was supposed to join hands with someone and meditate. He'd never gone to camp as a kid and was kind of really glad for that. No one was going to get him into too short puke green shorts and no one was going to get him to sleep in the bottom bunk under some smelly kid named Clive.

Nathan gingerly touched his broken nose and the bruising under his eyes before grimacing and pulling his hand away. Kate was damn lucky she'd run away because Nathan had planned on...glaring intently at her. He didn't know. He just knew he owed her something for making his face look like it did.

With a groan, Nathan leaned back against one of the logs and blew out a few smoke circles. Cabins did make it easier for him to seem like a courteous guy with his smoking, at least. Maybe he'd get a reputation as a nice guy.

Yeah, right.

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And Nathan just didn't give a fuck about what he talked about. He ran the gamut from crude and rude to innocent. He mostly stayed on the crude and rude side.

"Got something in your throat, mate?" Nathan asked, raising an eyebrow. "Hairball? Swallow something you shouldn't have? Naughty, naughty."

"Well, wild west is kinda dusty, y'know," muttered Butters, thinking he shouldn't have stopped because this Nathan guy didn't seem much fun. So he got back up and fixed his hat on his head. "Maybe I better just be hittin' the trails again."

Hey, Nathan was plenty fun! He just wasn't Butters type of fun, it seemed. Still, Nathan leaned back and gave Butters an amused look.

"Do you actually think you're a cowboy, mate?" he wondered. "Is this a psychotic episode or something? Should you be wearing a helmet instead of a cowboy hat?"

"Oh, no," said Butters, eyes going wide for a moment before his hand lifted up as if to stop a familiar onslaught of annoyance before it could get too close. "No, no, no, not this again! No, I know I'm not a real cowboy, I've just got a big imagination. You don't save all of Imaginationland without having a big imagination. So I'm not gonna go see no doctor again, jus' because I like playing Cowboys and Injuns, jus' so some crazy person can try to kill me again. Nuh-uh. Nuh-uh. Nuh-uh. I'm gonna go look at some cows and feed some horses and maybe spit and fart at a campfire, and there isn't anything wrong with that. The end."

"Wow."

That was....way more information than Nathan had expected and he held up a hand to deflect it and maybe deflect Butters' insanity because Nathan decided he was pretty much insane. Hey, if Nathan was annoying, Butters was insane.

He blinked and peered up at Butters. "Firstly, what makes you think I'd care enough to actually suggest you go see a doctor? If you wanna dress up like a cowboy and ride horses and shit, go for it, mate. I can't stop you. I can look at you and laugh but hey, free country, right? Your American constitution gives you the right to dress up like a cowboy. Hey, maybe tomorrow you might wanna wear an evening gown like a chick!"

"That's right!" said Butters, balling his fists with conviction. It appeared as though perhaps Nathan had touched on ~~a recent episode~~ a sensitive issue. "I can. And it's not because I'm crazy; it's just who I am, and that's okay! I--"

Butters was going to say that he's never killed anyone like Dr. Janus or Lu Kim or whatever you wanted to call him, but then he had to stop and clear his throat again. He's actually probably killed a lot more people, but...

He saved a lot of people, too.

So he just nodded firmly. "Yee-haw," he finished, tilting his hat.

"Hey, I fully support freedom of expression," Nathan decided, giving Butters a nod. "I might not wanna dress up like a fucking cowboy or a chick or anything like that -- "

The whole wedding dress thing would come a little later.

" -- but if it's fun for you, well, fucking awesome, mate. You should find a brothel, though. I definitely think that should be your next stop."

"You...you do?" asked Butters. "But I told you; my wiener's perfectly fine and healthy. I don't want to mess that up and get all those warts like you said on it."

He already had to take a suppository for his anus, here. He didn't want to add wiener cream to the whole shebang.

Nathan...okay, Nathan had no response to that except some quiet snickering because man, the kid sounded like he believed he'd end up with some disease no matter who he shagged.

"Well." He paused, looking thoughtful. "You could always let her shag you. There are ways to do that if you wanna avoid the whole...warts on your dick thing. I'm glad to see you looking out for your sexual health though. You wouldn't want to lose your dick while the getting's still good."

"And, I mean," said Butters, frowning with concern, "sex warts are one thing, but what about all the psychological damage, too? I wouldn't want to relapse back into my old habits; then I'd really be grounded."

"...old habits?" Nathan asked, careful to avoid his bruises when he scratched his cheeks. "Are you some reformed drug dealing gigolo?"

Honestly, Nathan couldn't see it. He really couldn't.

"No," said Butters, sadly. Sad not because he wasn't a drug dealer, but sad because of what he had to admit, but admitting it was part of getting better, right? "I'm a sex addict..."

"Are you fucking shitting me?" Nathan asked, eyes widening. "You're a sex addict. You? I thought you were a fucking virgin."

And the thing was, that could actually be a topic of wildly inappropriate debate, right there. Butters started to play nervously with his fingers a little. "Y-yeah," he muttered, looking toward the ground. "I gotta watch myself. God made me wrong, just wrong, so I've got to be careful, or else I'll be in real big trouble."

Nathan still looked and sounded skeptical. He shook his head because he just couldn't believe it. "Shouldn't you be at an all bloke's school if you're a sex addict? There are girls here, girls that will probably give it up at some point and if you have a dick that just needs to be nailing someone, this place has gotta be ad for you."

"Yeah," Butters sounded like he saw the logic in that, which was scary. "But I'm also pretty bicurious, so going to an all bloke's school's just as bad. Only thing that'll really keep me out of trouble for sure is locking me in a box forever, and my parents tried that, but it didn't work. It almost ended the world...again."

Nathan was beginning to think he'd misjudged Butters a lot. Like a whole fucking lot. He was still giving the kid in the cowboy getup a look of confusion because he just couldn't believe it.

"So, you're not having sex at all right now?" Nathan guessed. "Even though sex is amazing and feels good?"

Butters just sort of looked at Nathan for a moment, and then his eyes shifted toward the side. He seemed for a moment like his britches were getting a little tight, cleared his throat, and then looked up to the sky.

"B-boy," he said, "look at that sun up there. I think I better skidaddle on along, little doggie; I got a showdown at the I'm Gonna Be O.K. Corral at about high noon, and if I don't know up, they're gonna think I'm yeller."

Fortunately for Butters, Nathan was too fucking lazy and sore enough not to try and stop Butters for a second time. Instead, he just gave him a wave and a smirk.

"See you later, sex addict," Nathan said, giving him a new nickname. "Don't dip the wick into some nasty ink now."

"Er, it's Butters, by the way," he offered before getting too far, because he really didn't want Sex Addict to catch on as a nickname, right along side, you know, Gaywad and Black Asshole the way they had back home. "Butters Stotch."

"Nathan Young," he replied, giving him another salute and pretty much deciding that Butters would be Sex Addict no matter what. Too bad, so bad for poor Butters. "Your parents actually named you Butters? Your life was doomed from the start, mate."

"N-no," Butters said. "My real name's Leopold; everyone just calls me Butters."

"How in the -- " Did Nathan really want to know? He wasn't sure. "How'd you get that name? You don't like lather yourself up with butter and prance around in front of a fucking webcam, did you?"

Butters just shrugged. "Nope. That's just what they call me, I guess. Although we did make this one video when we were trying to raise money for Canada...but there wasn't any butter, and I had that name way before that, anyway."

"You're an interesting bloke, Leopold," Nathan said, going with the actual name just because he could. "Good luck with the sex addiction. You're a brave man to deal with that. I salute you and sympathize."

That might have been sarcasm. Probably.

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geewhizfellas.livejournal.com - 2011-06-08 00:51 (UTC) - Expand

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