Happy Halloween! So this is a one shot I planned out back in August. It is dangerously messed up and even I'm disturbed from it. So here's my South Park warning~

"The following program contains coarse language and should not be viewed by anyone"

(Thank you Matt and Trey for that particular wording)

Enjoy~

~~~

Mike Shinoda gazed out his window with wonder. Snow was falling, and seemed to be increasing by the second. The white flakes were abnormally large, and he was amazed by their size. Every time he looked up, they were getting bigger and bigger, and soon all he was seeing was a powdery scene.

"For October? Jeez..." he mumbled to himself. He sighed and pulled his jacket closer to his frame. He opened the door to brave the streets he was about to walk. The sidewalks were empty, because of the temperature. Mike looked up through his glasses to watch how the reds and oranges from the trees blended perfectly with the milky white of the snow. The roads were starting to show tire marks from it, and Mike smiled. He loved winter; it was his favorite season ever. All his best friends had a winter birthday, plus there was Christmas and Hanukkah. Even though winter technically wasn't for about a month or so, he wasn't complaining about the sudden switch.

Mike was walking to Brad Delson's home, since his band - Linkin Park - needed to rehearse and record. Their fifth studio album was in the works, and they wanted to get it out by mid 2012. If they wanted to reach this goal, it meant that Michael Kenji Shinoda had to walk 15 blocks in a blizzard. 

Mike blew into his hands to try to warm himself up, but he was disappointed to find it didn't work. With a sigh, he trudged on, letting the snow stick to his facial hair. The flakes had died down to a normal size, but they were still falling at a significant pace. Before Mike could tell if the snow was letting up, everything suddenly went black, and he was on the freezing cold ground, being dragged.

~~~

Mike awoke on his knees, holding himself up with his hands. His head hurt like he was hungover, and everything appeared fuzzy. A man was standing in front of him. Mike could only see that he was wearing pitch black jeans and a pair of red Converse shoes. His head hurt far too much to even attempt to look up to see who he was. 

"Hello Michael. How are you?" the mystery man asked, leaning down to face Mike in the face. He looked young - maybe in his early 20's. He wore a Linkin Park shirt from around the time of their album Hybrid Theory, which shocked the artist. His hair was short and spiked, with blonde streaks through the black. He appeared Asian, maybe Chinese.

"Uh, fucking confused. What day is it? Where the fuck am I?" Mike asked, still trying to clear out his head. The young adult laughed, and answered. 

"It's Wednesday the 2nd of November. You're at my house. My name is Feng. Do you feel anything behind you?" Feng said, smiling an evil grin as he spoke. At first, Mike was surprised. He had left his home on Saturday the 29th. Then, as Mike tried figuring out how long he was out, he felt something. 

On his ass.

Mike screamed and tried to get whatever it was off, but nothing could work. "WHAT THE FUCK IS ON MY ASS?!" Mike screamed at Feng, who by this time was laughing.

"Here's a mirror, take a look," Feng offered, holding up a handheld mirror for the musician. Mike looked into it to see Brad, crying and looking beyond terrified.

"WHY THE FUCK IS BRAD ON MY ASS?!" Mike screamed again, becoming more and more petrified.

"Oh, there's more. Look and see."

Feng held the mirror at a different angle to reveal the rest of Mike's band, all attached to each other. Behind Brad was Rob, who was also squirming and freaking out. Chester was behind him, then Phoenix, then Joe at the very end. All of them had tear streaked faces and were all attached to the ass of another. None of them wore any pants, and all but Mike had a bandage covering their mouths and asses. 

"What the fuck is going on?!" Mike questioned, fear starting to overtake his voice.

"Well, my dear sir, you've seen the movie Human Centipede, right?" Mike shook his head yes, for seeing the movie and having the reality set into him. "Well, it's my own version."

"But...why?!" Mike gasped, losing his voice due to being scared.

Feng moved away from Mike's face to talk to the full band. "You guys destroyed me! I was such, a big, fan! Hybrid Theory is a fucking masterpiece! Meteora was genius! But then you changed! You guys fucking changed!! Minutes to Midnight? The fuck?! And A Thousand Suns? Were you guys on crack?!" Feng was shouting by this point. "Why did you change?! Why? WHY?!" Feng was shaking, as was everyone else. 

"Feng, dude, please. Give me a second to explain," Mike begged. Feng nodded to let him speak. "We had to change in order to progress! Plus, Ches was finally at closure with his past, which was a big block for our early stuff. We wanted to do stuff like MTM and ATS for progression!"

"Progression shmogression! I was fucking lost when MTM came out. I was looking forward to your comfort music, and I got shit like 'Hands Held High' and 'The Little Things Give You Away'! I needed the lyrics. Did I get them? OF COURSE NOT!" Feng threw over a table when he finished speaking in frustration. 

"Dude, please. Just let us go. Our fifth album is gonna be out soon and we all need to work," Mike begged, fear shining in his eyes. 

"Fuck no! How could I let you go and produce another terrible album?" Feng asked with an eerily calm voice. Mike was speechless for the first time in this entire time of things. 

Brad's words came muffled, but they still shone through. "How the hell did you sew us together like this?"

"It was quite simple Bradford. I am a surgeon. Sure, I'm young, but I'm a genius. I just graduated last June. After I finished my work, I moved out here to find you guys. The rest is right here, right now."

All six Linkin Parkers were amazed at this kid's ability - and luck for that matter. Feng smiled at their silence and moved to find a spoon of liquid. Everyone's eyes widened in fear, hoping it wasn't poison. Feng kneeled down in front of Mike, and slipped the metal past his lips. Mike instantly spit it out, but Feng was prepared. He had another spoon hidden away, and when Mike spit, he got the second spoon past, and got the liquid down the rapper's throat.

"The fuck was that?!" Mike asked, his stomach starting to hurt like hell. 

"Laxative. Have fun," Feng said, grinning his evil smile yet again. All of them started screaming, Mike's obviously being the loudest. 

"Brad, I'm so fucking sorry!" Mike screamed, before letting the laxative take over. Brad screamed bloody murder as Mike's shit filled his mouth, running down his throat. He gagged, but nothing could prevent the solid from not going down. Soon after, a shrill scream came from Rob, who had the same experience. The feces plugged Rob's throat, causing him to cough as if he was going to die. With luck, he was able to pass the waste sending it onto Chester. Chester let out one of his famous screams as Rob shat into the singers mouth. Chester had the mentality to just get it down, so he did so, passing the mix to Mr. Dave Farrell. All Dave could do was shut his eyes and pretend it was anything but crap. Anything worked for the bass player. He ended up thinking of it as pudding. Joe was mentally prepared, since he had so much goddamn time to think about what was going to happen. He took it as good as anyone possibly could, as soon after, his own shit simply ended up on the floor of Feng's small apartment.

By the end of the ordeal, all six men were gasping for air. Mike had the best breathing ability, and all he wanted was one drink of water. 

Feng smiled like he won the "I'm the Genius of the World" award. "So, are you guys going to produce more shit music?" he asked the band. All anxiously shook their heads "no", pleasing the young surgeon.

"Well, we still can't take that chance," Feng said, sending chills down the line of guys. He slowly pulled a gun from his back pocket, making all the band members' blood go cold.

"Feng...please..." Mike barely whispered, his entire body trembling like mad. The rest of them were thinking and praying that someone would soon come and find them. 

"Oh, this?" Feng questioned, hanging the pistol in front of Mike's face. "You're not gonna die this way. This is for me, for after what I do to you."

"What are you gonna do with us?!?!" Rob screamed. Of course, it came muffled.

Feng didn't answer the drummer, and instead pulled out a single onion. The Linkin Parkers looked at the vegetable with confusion written on their faces in Sharpie. Feng cut it into pieces and sat in front of Mike, cross-legged. 

"The more you resist, the worse," Feng told Mike. Mike couldn't speak anymore - he nodded his head yes. Feng fed him the entire onion in exactly 5 minutes, smiling with every swallow.

"Why an onion?" Mike wondered aloud once Feng stood again. 

"Oh, that wasn't just an onion. It's poisoned. It'll pass through each of you, killing as the poison goes through. Thanks for Hybrid Theory and Meteora. Rot in Hell with MTM and ATS."

Mike started to scream, but instantly felt incredibly tired. His breathing slowed, and soon, the poison overtook his body. He collapsed on the floor, making the rest of the line fall as well. Brad screamed as Mike's stool once again filled his mouth, but soon after, he too ceased breathing. The same went through with Rob, who first screamed then went quiet on the cold floor. Chester stayed quiet and welcomed death with open arms. He closed his chocolate eyes with joy of leaving the cruel world he called Earth. Phoenix screamed, and was probably the quickest to receive the effects of the poison. Joe was the last one to speak.

"You sick fuck," Joe said, having his words be relatively clear. "I hope you get fucked by Satan when you're in Hell!"

With those words, Joe got the poison from Phoenix's shit, and closed his eyes for the last time. Feng looked at what he had done with a sense of accomplishment. The six men who half created/half destroyed his life now lay dead on his floor. With a smile, he got his gun.

"I can die in peace without letting the world get more terrible music."

With a single blast, Feng was on the ground with the six men, starting to lay in a pool of his own blood. 

~~~

It's amazing what camp and my brain can produce. Please review, and have a happy day :) Not like these guys...