Stan is depressed. Butters, his friend, helps him change his point of view.

Butters: Stan? Is it you?

Stan: Don’t you recognize your friend?

Butters: But you look different. You’ve changed. You’ve never worn all black before. It’s hard to recognize you.

Stan: That’s because I’ve changed. I’ve lost anything that can make me happy. My soul is as black, as my clothes.

Butters: What’s wrong?

Stan: Such an awful thing, that you’d better stay ignorant.

Butters: But I don’t want to stay ignorant. I want to know what happened with my friend. And how I can help.

Stan: It’s impossible to help me here. Nothing can enlighten my grief. I’m doomed to stay sad and depressed forever.