The Golden Rule of Storytelling, According to South Park’s Legendary Creators

This simple exercise separates a great story from a series of scenes lazily strung together.

When I was 9 years old, my mom got really into racquetball, which meant I got to do the most forbidden thing a kid could do in 1997: Watch South Park.

If you’re not old enough to remember 1997, gather ‘round and let me regale you, my grandchildren. The economy was booming. The budget was balanced. Inflation was low. We weren’t at war. The vibes were too good. No one even knew that Bill got a BJ from Monica yet! So America needed something to panic about. Enter South Park.

People were HYSTERICAL when South Park came out. It was a cartoon, but it was for adults. There were jokes about sex! And poo! And Christmas poo! WHAT IF KIDS WATCHED IT BY ACCIDENT?! It became a national crisis. Schools instructed our parents to under no circumstances let us watch it. Which, of course, made watching South Park the only thing in the world we wanted to do.

But how? For a 9-year-old with proper parental supervision, it was nearly impossible.

Lucky for me, South Park aired on Wednesdays — my mom’s late-night racquetball night. So, as soon as she grabbed her racket and left, I put my plan into action — begging my 24-year-old babysitter, Jackie, to let me stay up and watch. I cried. I argued. I made a 7-point case about how watching South Park would transform me from an outcast nerd into an edgy cool kid. After 90 minutes and a makeshift Powerpoint, Jackie relented, so long as I promised never to tell my mom. After all, she wanted to watch too.

I loved South Park from the jump. I got way more of its biting satire than I should have since I was a pretty weird kid — I read The Bergen Record on the bus every morning, watched The Daily Show religiously, and was raised by a pack of 20-somethings who worked in my mom's animal hospital, which was attached to our house. South Park was more than satire — it was a masterclass in hyper-efficient storytelling. There were no wasted moments; it fit more into a 23-minute episode than most filmmakers do in 2-hour movies.

Amazingly, South Park was created by two unknown 20-somethings — Matt Stone and Trey Parker — who’d bonded over a shared love of “stupid sh*t” at the University of Colorado. They made the pilot with almost no money using cardboard-cutout animation.

But while Stone and Parker didn’t have a lot of Hollywood cred, they did have a sixth sense for storytelling that’s made them among the greatest creative minds of their generation. They’d go on to create cult classics like Baseketball and Team America: World Police and one of the best Broadway musicals of all time, Book of Mormon.

They also once went to the Oscars on a lot of acid.

Trey Parker (far left) and Matt Stone (far right). At the Oscars. On acid.

Most importantly, though, they’re the source of one of my favorite rules of storytelling.

South Park’s Golden Rule: You need to fit "But" or "Therefore" between every scene

In 2011, Stone and Parker made a surprise visit to an NYU filmmaking class for an episode of MTVU’s Stand In, where they revealed the powerful rule that guides their writer’s room.

Every week, South Park's creators map the three acts of the show on a giant whiteboard and then fill in the beats of each scene. If the words “and then” fall between any of those beats, then “you’re fucked," Stone told the class. "You’ve got something pretty boring.”

Instead, every beat of the story must be connected by the words “therefore” or “but.”

There needs to be causation between each beat; it’s the difference between a great story and a series of scenes lazily strung together. As they map out each episode, South Park’s creators literally write “therefore” or “but” between each scene.

Sidenote: Don't the outfits here make you nostalgic for the early 2010s? TAKE ME BACK. My back didn’t hurt then.

To illustrate how it works, let’s take an example from another seminal piece of animated storytelling — The Lion King.

Simba is set to inherit the kingdom of Pride Rock from his father, Mufasa. But Mufasa is murdered when his brother, Scar, sets a trap with a wildebeest stampede. Therefore, Scar tricks Simba into thinking it was his fault and going into hiding. But Simba is rescued by two new friends who lead him to a run-in with his childhood bestie, Nala. Therefore, Simba realizes he must return to the kingdom and defeat his evil Uncle Scar.

Far too many stories, however, are filled with “And then” — think of all the bad Hollywood movies that are an hour and a half too long. (Ever seen Gigli? It’s nothing but “And thens.”)

Mind the Tension Gap

This idea is closely related to a storytelling framework Shane Snow and I wrote about in our book, The Storytelling Edge — the Tension Gap.

The key to great storytelling is to establish the gap between what is and what could be and then repeatedly open and close that gap through cycles of conflict and resolution.

Think about your favorite rom-coms. They center on the gap between what is (a lonely, single life) and what could be (true love). Or if you hate rom-coms in your dark soul, think about your favorite heist movies. They center on the gap between what is (Danny Ocean and his friends are in trouble and need to rob a casino, but it's nearly impossible) and what could be (riches beyond their wildest dreams). We stay on the edge of our seats because we’re enthralled by the continuous conflict (“But”) and progress towards what could beg (“therefore.”)

The next time you’re working on a story—whether it’s a novel, screenplay, essay, or brand narrative — take a note from Matt Stone and Trey Parker. Map out your story on a whiteboard, and catch those deadly and thens.

Otherwise — in the words of the great Matt Stone — ”you’re fucked.”

Recommended Reads

Weighing in on Casey Newton’s “AI is fake and sucks debate” (David Karpf): Two weeks ago, Platformr’s Casey Newton set off a giant debate on AI skepticism that is a fascinating rabbit hole to go down. GWU professor David Karpf has a great recap here — and take of his own on the snake oil of many AI systems. It’s a great read if all you’re getting in your media diet is AI hype.

AI Scams Are the Point (Edward Ongweso): Speaking of AI Snake Oil, loved this review of AI Snake Oil in The New Republic. Also recommend Ongweso’s take on the great AI skepticism debate.

The New Rules of Media (One Thing): If you’re going to read one thing this week … read this.

I’m the best-selling author of The Storytelling Edge and a storytelling nerd. Subscribe to this newsletter to get storytelling and audience-building strategies in your inbox each week.