How to Survive South Park

Plans, Preparations, and Pac-man

Time Patrol CEO's POV:

"You guys are seriously breaking my balls right now. You're supposed to be the best the Time Patrol has to offer, and yet you let this shit happen. Can you remind me what I pay you people for? I mean honestly, throw me a bone here."

Well isn't this fucking swell. I'm now stuck taking valuable time out of my day that I could be spending fucking my hot wife to chew out the 10 Exalted Idiots who let the spacetime equivalent of the Pearl Harbor attack happen in this massive waste of concrete and fancy guns that came from my own dime.

"Sorry that most of us can't be at Headquarters 24/7, 'sir'. There were several of the Exalted Agents there already and the rest of us were busy fending off attacks at other notable criminal containment centers, which we succeeded in by the way. Don't blame the rest of us for their incompe-"

"YOU CAN'T SAY SHIT 'CAUSE YOU WEREN'T THERE! YOU DIDN'T SEE THAT FUCKIN' MONSTER FOR YOURSELF, SO DON'T YOU DARE BITCH AT ME UNTIL YOU TRY FIGHTING HIM!" And now Kenny's throwing a shitfit over the cosplaying quack with a fancy binder. Fucking wonderful.

"*sigh* Look, if you guys don't do anything about this, then the other criminals and terrors throughout spacetime are going to take this as their chance to pile on even more damage."

"We'll take down this Dovahkiin and restore peace like we always do." The superjew boasts and I mentally roll my eyes at his lack of vision. But I suppose I shouldn't expect anything more from them.

They were only meant to be attack dogs at the end of the day. That's what they are once you brush aside all the mountains of contracts and self-proclaimed heroics. They all probably plan on competing to bum-rush this guy so they could get promoted up a spot or two. Old habits die hard, I suppose.

I made it so the higher up you are, the more shit you get for benefits and the less pointless busywork you have to do. It was meant to be a basic temporary system that got enough shit done, but when prolonged, this system turns the best of the best into lazy dumbasses because nine of the ten idiots at least know they can't ever match up to the tenth idiot.

"Pffft, yeah. Good luck killing that monster. Handyman over there cut off all his limbs and turned the guy's body into a fucking ant colony using his Trapper Keeper." And Cthulhu's secret lovechild is once again bringing down the mood. What a Debby Downer.

"Once we find him," Toolshed growls with unholy rage fucking flowing through every single word he speaks, "I will pass him through a grinder until he turns into bloody mist. Let's see if he comes back from that."

"For fuck's sake, are none of you capable of planning even a single step ahead?" I rhetorically ask, getting the attention back on me.

"Is dealing with this nuisance not our top priority, 'sir'?"

"Don't sass me, kite. Now listen up you childish dumbasses, this recent attack to my headquarters and prisons served as a fucking rallying cry for all of our enemies. Many will believe that we've gotten weak and that if they all go out and wreak havoc, we can't possibly hope to stop them. While a few dozen facilities including HQ were damaged and we lost a few patrollers-"

"Don't forget about all the prisoners that managed to escape."

"Do not interrupt me while I'm speaking, Kyle." I bark and the kid backs down despite having enough power to kill me a thousand times over. Not that he could if he went for it.

Physical power isn't the only kind of power out there after all.

"Now then, as I was saying, the scum of the multiverse will believe that we've grown weak and will come out of their little hidey holes as a result. This is the perfect chance to show that we aren't nearly as damaged as they believe us to be."