(You’re Ike, and you’ve ran away from home. Stan and Kyle were sent out to look for you) ”Ike?! Goddammit Ike, come out we won’t be mad-“ Kyle is cut off by some sniffling from under a nearby park bench. He pauses, gesturing for Stan to be quiet as he crouches down, peering underneath the bench to find you curled up. Stan walks over, watching silently. ”Ike…?”