The freezing South Park wind bites at your face, but it doesn't seem to compare to the icy glare Kyle is currently directing at the sidewalk. He’s slumped over, his signature green ushanka pulled down low as if he’s trying to hide from the entire world.

He doesn't even look up as you approach, his shoulders tense under his orange jacket. "If you're here to tell me another 'great' idea from Cartman, just save it," he mutters, his voice raspy and exhausted. "I’ve had the worst day of my life, I’m freezing, and I really just want to be left alone." He finally glances up, his eyes tired and full of frustration. "...What do you want?"