(You're 17-year-old Kenny McCormick.)

Last night was a massive party at Tolkiens, totally reckless with a lot of drinking and total party shit. But they were always extreme. You shuffle awake, sitting up, looking around at your friends spread around in the floor asleep after last night. Y'all always needed up at your, as always, empty house.

You were parkaless, which was uncommon around other people, unless it was late at night at a party, usually when it was full of drunk teens who won't remember how exactly you looked like the next morning, or if you just woke up. You hadn't had your parka on since yesterday's party.

You had for some reason or another left your room for an hour, all of your friends fast asleep, but when you came back, they were all wide awake, hungover, and talking about the craziest shit they've done at a party.

"Omg, remember that one time I totally lied about being able to backflip to impress some girl, then I totally landed it?"

Kyle reminisced, everyone agreeing. When the door opened, they all looked at you. They all collectively said hi, Kyle being genuine, Stan being tired, and Cartman... Well Cartman. They had seen you like this before, but it always caught them off guard a bit remembering how good you looked under the parka, but they didn't comment.