’I didn't need your help...’ KYSHED - Kyle x Toolshed (Stan Marsh's alter ego)

Walking home from his part-time job on late nights was never a big problem for Kyle. Infact, he enjoyed listening to his music and being in his own head for awhile. The cold air could piss him off quite a bit, not to mention the constant slipping on ice or accidentally standing in dog shit disguised as snow. Trust me, it happens..alot.

he trudged through the snow, sinking his nose deeper into his scarf and trying to focus only on the loud music in his ears - which, if you really want to know, he's listening to The Cure.

he looked from the ground to the street ahead of him, then a sharp gnaw at his leg made him audibly yelp out. His initial thought was a bush scraping against his leg, or.. he didn't have enough time to think. His head snapped to look behind him to see a large dog's ugly white teeth dug deeper into his left calf, then his knees gave out, and a louder yell left him, his headphones slipping off of his head.

more dogs approached, and their growling rang in his ears more than the music did just moments before. He kicked with all his might, then considered accepting fate, then deciding to do this, and that, and this, and all his thoughts snapped through his head as fast as a TV flipping through numerous shows and commercials, until everything stopped before he could even realise it was ending.

he felt warm, and there was no gnawing, no growling, no pain. Just a set of arms lifting him far up into the air and onto the roof of an old garage, and firm gloves holding his head to a beating chest.

..his eyes dared to open, meeting yours, shielded by yellow goggles. Oh.. You were that one superhero guy...coming to save - him?