I'll post each chapter here if people comment on the last. If not... then no new chapter, I guess. I'm not expecting more than one or two comments anyway.
Herbert Garrison yawned as the bell rang for another day at South Park Elementary School - another day of trying to teach a bunch of lazy bastards some stuff they'll forget as soon as they're let out for the summer. He sighed as he got up, taking a piece of chalk, "All right kids, good morining, how are we all today?" There were various murmured responses he did not care for, "Good, good. Do you all know what day it is?" Nothing. "It's Friendship Day, an idea from our former class President Wendy."
"Nice going." Stan Marsh rolled his eyes at his girlfriend, who glared back. "What a sh*tty idea." he added as Wendy glared at her long-time boyfriend. Although the two were normally quite close and had just overcome difficulties in their relationship fairly recently, their sparring as of late since Stan's birthday had just progressively become worse and worse.
"Stanley, leave your stupid girlfriend alone. Now, you all remember that paper I assigned on Wednesday on who your best friend is?" Garrison said, putting his hands on his hips, "It's due. Now what pair of best friends would like to go first? Let me guess, Stan and Kyle? You two ready to verbally make out in public for the two-hundredth time?" he asked. Stan rolled his eyes.
"I'll go up." Stan said, getting out of his seat and taking his paper as he approached the front of the classroom, his voice venomous. Garrison raised an eyebrow as Stan took the center, "My name is Stan, and my best friend is nobody, because friendship is all a big lie. You think you know who your friends are but then they abandon you because you're a buzzkill or you're not fun anymore. None of us will even know each other in fifteen years, and then we'll all get old and smelly and die. f*ck all of you."
"Good job, Stanley, you get a B- and to visit the Principal for using the 'F' word in my classroom." Garrison said apathetically - this was all routine, "Before we continue, does anyone else in here not have a best friend?" Tweek and Esther raised their hands, "All right, you both get F's. Who's next? Hm... Timmy and Jimmy?" Garrison said with boredom as Timmy and Jimmy rolled up to the front of the room. Stan left the room to see Principal Victoria.
"Well howdy there, everyone, me and my best p-p-pal Timmy are here to tell you all about f-f-friendship. You see, when me and Timmy first m-m-met, we really h-h-hated each other, and we got into a big fight. But since then, we've become really good f-f-friends, right Tim-Tim?" Jimmy asked as Timmy nodded before returning to staring into some kind of unknown abyss, "I know everything about Timmy - his f-f-f-fah f-f-f-fah, f-f-f-favorite color is red, his favorite movie is Forrest G-G-G-Gump, he loves eating b-b-b-bananas, and he likes Katy P-P-P-Perroy."
Timmy rolled forward a bit and looked at his paper, "Jimmah! Jimmay Jimmah Tim Tim Timmay, livin' a lie Timmah, Timmay tim timmy, Timmah, libalaw, daw libalaw Timmay, Jimmy Timmy, Timmeh Tim Timmay! Timmeh Tim Timmeh Tim Lords of the Underworld Timmay Timmah Tim Timmay Jimmy Timmy Jim Timmah Tim Timmay Sarah Silverman Timmy Tim Timmah!"
"Wow Timmy, in my twenty years of teaching that is the most touching speech I've ever heard." Garrison said as he took off his glasses and rubbed the front of his face - he looked quite tired as he sat back, "All right, all right... uhhh next is Kevin and Rebecca." he said, reading off a chart as he put it down and looked at one of the many photographs on his desk, looking at his own long-lost best friend.
"Uhh... hi..." Kevin Stoley went upfront with Red, the Chinese-American boy and red-haired girl both looking as if they had completely forgotten about this, "My name is Kevin and my best friend is Red. We've known each other since preschool... Red loves dancing and volunteers at the animal shelter once a week and she has a beautiful singing voice. She's really smart and her father owns the town bar. Red also likes video games and her favorite TV Show is Glee." he looked to his friend.
"My name is Rebecca Tucker - people who like their legs call me Red - and my report is on my best friend Kevin. Kevin's favorite movie is Star Wars of course and he loves anything Science Fiction. Kevin is creative and likes writing. He also enjoys history and tries to follow politics. Kevin's father is a bussinessman and his mother is a house wife and his uncle manages the local City Wok, and his aunt is a singer. Thank you."
"Thanks kids, those reports were absolutely gay. I'm sure if Fosse and Bill were still in this class they'd be laughing their little asses off, but they're next door with Thompson now I suppose. And next is..." Cartman stretched his arm out high in the air - or as high as his pudgy build would allow. Garrison's eyes left the photo and he straightened, raising an eyebrow in surprise, "I don't believe it. Eric, you have a best friend and you did your homework? Or are the brownies from last night still getting to me?"
"No, Mr. Garrison, me and my best friend would like to go up please." Cartman smirked, "And I promise you, it's not my hand this time." he pleaded, looking into his teacher's cold eyes. Garrison was puzzled - Cartman was fat, racist, foul-mouthed and unlikable in every way possible. Which child in his class would possibly put up with that kind of person?
"Well Eric, if you really have a best friend I guess you two can go up and read your reports on each other but I swear to God, if there is even one thing in your report Eric about yourself, I will invent the 'G' just so I can give it to you, do you understand me?" Garrison said, glaring forward. Cartman nodded and Garrison turned his attention back to the photograph as Cartman walked up to the front of the room, and was then joined by Kenny.
"Kinny, the f*ck?" Cartman said angrily, "You think we're best friends? In your goddamn dreams! I have a new best friend now you stupid poor piece of crap." Kenny raised an eyebrow, "Some friend you were, Kinny, 'oh Eric, I hate you but I feel sorry for you'. You know what Kenny? That's not cool, man, it's not cool. f*ck off already!" Cartman said.
"...WHAT!" Kenny said in disbelief, "What do you mean? We've always been best friends you f*cking douchebag! I'm the only f*cking one who laughs at your stupid racist jokes! I'm the only f*cking one who sits there and watches NASCAR with you! What the f*ck!" Kenny grabbed at Cartman's fat, but the boy simply pushed Kenny away. Sighing and defeated, Kenny sat back down as Kyle got up next to Cartman.
"My best friend is Kahl Broflovski-" as soon as the words left Cartman's mouth, the entire class' collective jaws dropped. Even Garrison's eyes widened and eyebrows raised. It was as if the laws of the universe had been destroyed in the uterrance of those six words. Cartman smiled toward Kyle, "he's nine years old, Jewish and he hates bananas and piss. Kahl is very intelligent and ties for second smartest kid at our skewl. Kahl enjoys math, writing, the Terrance & Phillip show and kites."
"...Eric, do you need to see the nurse?" Mr. Garrison asked, raising an eyebrow, "Do you have a fever? Is your nose runny? Eric, how many fingers am I holding up?" Garrison held out his hand, four fingers out, "No wait, it's going to be all right Eric, we just need to take you to Nurse Gollum right away." Garrison said, rushing to his desk to grab
"Mr. Garrison, I think you're a smartass douchebag with dissociative identity disorder and every day I question how the f*ck you got a teaching degree." Cartman said simply as if the words meant nothing, yet it was this very fact that showed he was telling the truth - there was no faux sweetness or gross overconfidence, nor anger or tears. Garrison patted the top of his head and sighed,
"Eric, I don't know what the hell happened to you but I guess you're okay besides your sudden affinity for your rival Kyle." Garrison shrugged and went to the chalkboard and began etching the pairs of friends so far: Jimmy and Timmy, Kevin and Red, Kyle and Cartman, "All right Kyle, I guess you can read your speech about Eric now since... you two are... friends... apparently..."
"Eric Cartman is one of the least popular kids in school but deep down he's actually really cool. He has amazing charisma and great leadership skills, and even though we disagree sometimes, I've realized we have a lot more in common than I thought: we both like video games, and we both appreciate movies and shows that really make you think. Eric knows business and despite his shortcomings he always knows how to come up with a plan even when times are at their worst. Eric is a really admirable person."
"...sweet Jesus, what the f*ck were in those brownies?" Garrison said, "All right... A+ to both of you... I think." Garrison said, looking both ways. Something was not right. He sighed and looked at the chart for a second, "Uhhh... Wendy and Bebe." he read off before picking up the photograph, "...I can't take it. It's been too long, I need to see you one last time..." Garrison said.
"Now Stanley, I know you're going through a tough time in your life right now..." began Principal Victoria, hands together at her desk. Stan Marsh had been sent down here for 'excessive' swearing in class - a boy who was once material for 'Student of the Month' was now in her office nearly every day. It was beyond her - he had always been a bright, hopeful pupil. But here he was looking at the floor with a bitter look on his face as if someone had taken something from him. "But you need to learn some self-control and stop disrupting classes."
"Well, Principal Victoria, do you want to know what I think?" Stan held his arms crossed. Victoria simply narrowed her eyes at him and nodded - she'd dealt with kids like this before. It was all to familiar to her. "I think you're a prissy, sh*tty, stuck-up bitch. I bet you grew up with a single parent who gave you everything you wanted and you never learned you can't always have your way. I don't think you care about the students and the only reason you became a Principal is because you wanted to be in a position of authority because you're a control freak with sh*tty hair."
"I grew up with both of my parents. Now, I'm going to let you go back to class, but if I see you again today I'm calling your mother, okey-dokey?" Victoria said with clear annoyance, getting sick of seeing him every day. She'd seen him every day this week and his mother. It was getting rather tiresome for her - she was seeing him almost as often as she saw his former friend Eric Cartman.
"How about you just call my mom now? 'because you'll be seeing me again real soon!" Stan got out of his seat angrily and walked toward the door to leave when Victoria rose from her seat,
"Stan Marsh, where are you going?"
"To the one place where I belong..." Stan sighed quietly, "Where I used to belong..."
"All right, class, well it seems we've sorted out all of our best buddies..." Mr. Garrison moved away from the chalkboards and motitoned to what was written:
Jimmy and Timmy
Kevin and Red
Eric and Kyle
Wendy and Bebe
Clyde and Craig
Token and Jason
Annie and Heidi
Millie and Lola
Butters and Dougie
Kenny, Tweek, Stan, Esther; FOREVER ALONE
"Mr. Garrison, I told you, I have a best friend, Lizzy-" Esther said but Garrison approached her desk with a stern look, Esther's eyes widening, suddenly stricken with fear for her teacher. Garrison wasn't the kind of teacher you just mess with and take a detention in stride.
"Lizzy McCormick is not in this classroom and she is not your best friend, do you understand me? Now make friends wit Kenny or Tweek you goddamn chink!" he slammed a fist on her desk before returning to his quickly and picking up a photograph and sighing, "You know what class? I'm going to be right back..." Garrison headed for the door, "Until then, Ky-" Garrison put a finger to his chin - no way, if Kyle and Eric are friends Eric will no doubt take advantage of the situation, "Bebe is in charge." he left.
"All right!" Bebe smiled, but then her eyes narrowed, her grin suddenly wicked as the frizzy-haired blonde took center of the room, "Today class we will be covering the history of shoes, and for biology we'll be studying the asses of Jewish children. Your homework will be an essay on the best boy band of the 2000's. Any questions?"
"Bebe, don't you think we should focus on actual school subjects?" Wendy said carefully, hoping not to offend her best friend. Bebe rolled her eyes,
"It's just music, history and biology, normal school subjects, psh." Bebe said, "Now, I didn't have time to order new textbooks, so I'm just going to use the chalkboard. Now can anyone tell me who invented the shoe? Anyone?"
"...dude, screw this, Let's just leave!" Craig said, getting up and walking toward the door when he was blocked by Bebe. He flipped her off carelessly and tried to move around but she blocked his path,
"You're not going anywhere, Craig." she said, moving forward, "Girls!" Esther and Millie stepped forward and took Craig's arms and returned him to the seat, "Good, good. You girls return to your seats now, this lesson is important Shoes have been around since the dawn of man but ancient Egyptians started making shoes with some style..."
Stan sat at the bus stop, the same one he'd used every day since the third grade began, sighing as he sat in the snow silently. It was quiet and peaceful - besides that the sign seemed to show a pile of sh*t now. He sighed - he wished he could cure this disease. Suddenly he felt colder than usual as a hand was on his shoulder, "Hello there children."
"...hey Chef." Stan said absent-mindedly, eyes on the snow, not even realizing the presence behind him. After a moment he blinked and looked behind himself but all he saw was a transparent pile of sh*t wearing a turd shaped like a chef's hat. He sighed.
"How's it goin'?"
"Awh, why bad?"
"I have cynicism, Chef. It's this disease that makes everything seem like sh*t. Like you, right now - you're not a ghost, you're just a fat tub of sh*t. All my friends have abandoned me because I'm a buzzkill - the only person I can be around is Craig. Not even Kyle wants to hang out with me and... I guess... it just makes me feel... well, like sh*t." Stan pointed out. Chef sighed,
"Children, that's something we all go through. People get older. People grow apart. Things change... and it's tough to accept it. We find our best friends leaving, and our families breaking apart... but we always have memories with the people we care about. Sure, you and Kyle may not be friends anymore but... the two of you spent a lot of time together, and even if it's over, it shouldn't ruin the memories you have. Change is tough, but it's always going to be there. Things are just gonna... keep on changing. It's all a part of growing up."
"Yeah... you know what, Chef? You're right. I need to stop running away from my problems and just... accept the fact things are changing and try to deal with it instead of just whining about everything." Stan said, "Thanks Chef... even though you're probably just a figment of my psychosis trying to help me work out a solution..."
"Any time, children!" Chef took off his sh*tty hat and bowed before the giant piece of sh*t faded away.
"And now if you look closely, you'll notice that Kyle's right ass cheek is slightly perkier than his left." Bebe Stevens instructed as one of her male students stood at the head of the classroom with his pants down and his ass on display, with a beat red, humiliated face. That's when the bell rang and Kyle pulled his pants up at lightening speeds and dashed out, followed by his classmates. Bebe gritted her teeth and left lesson plans and Garrison's other items on his desk, took her backpack and left as well. What a progressive day!
"So guys, what are we doing this week?" Kyle asked, joining Cartman and Kenny at their lockeers. Cartman quickly got his backpack on and smiled at Kyle, "Eric?"
"Well Kahl, me and Kinney were gonna stop in the computer lab since Kinney needs to check his Penthouse Forums or whatever, and I'm in the middle of a very complex pyramid scheme. Wanna join us, Jewboy?" Cartman offered, not in his usual malicous way but with a sincere, friendly smile. For a boy who was just discussing pyramid schemes, Eric Cartman seemed quite kind right now. Kyle smiled as he opened his locker,
"Sure. Oh, uh, dudes, can I ask you something... personal?" he asked. Cartman and Kenny looking at him, Kyle clutching his books to his chest as he stood near his open locker, "It's just... without Stan around, our group feels... kind of... I dunno, empty. I don't know how to put this but... we need a new Stan."
"Yeah, you're right. I think I know just the kid." Cartman smirked, turning around and looking toward Butters. Kenny, Cartman and Kyle approached him, "Butters, we have a very important question to ask you." The little boy with the puff of blonde hair smiled and pushed his little fists together,
"What is it, Eric?"
"Butters, with Stan gone we've been looking to fill the void in our circle of friendship with someone new and well, we were hoping you could help us fill that void." Cartman explained. Butters smiled nervously, blue eyes lighting up,
"Eric, I'd be glad to h-h-help you guys out!"
"Good, good! Okay Butters now, tell us... where's Clyde?" Cartman asked, Butters' jaw dropping in shock, "Butters? You okay, man? We need Clyde to replace Stan."
"Awh, son of a b-biscuit..." Butters said, sighing, "Clyde's over by the cafeteria t-t-talking to Craig about that movie Paranormal Activity 3 Clyde said he really liked it."
"Thanks Butters!" Kyle said as the trio skipped merrily toward the cafeteria to go find their new life-long buddy. Butters sighed and put his hands in his pockets - rejected again. Lonely, despised by the world. Hated by everyone around him. Forced into a life of solitude. But nobody knew the truth - that beneath Butters' soft, plushy exterior, lay the greatest supervillain the world had ever known...
"Hey turd, I have to get to economicsh" came a voice as Butters politely moved to let Shelley Marsh move past. Now was not the time for chaos and evil... besides, he didn't want to get grounded for being beat up by a girl.
Skeeter's Bar was active a location as ever, Randy Marsh sitting with his half-brother Jimbo Kern, Jimbo's heterosexual life partner Ned and his friend Stuart McCormick. The bar was active - a good Broncos game was on TV, the bartender was mixing the drinks, and Randy was just drunk enough to be ridiculously happy but not drunk enough to forget his surroundings. Unfortunately, his son soon crashed the party, "Hey dad, can we go to the zoo? Please?" Stan suddenly asked. Randy turned to him, wiping his mouth,
"Oh hey Stan... the zoo? Uh sure, let me get my keys..." Randy said, trying to stand up and proceeding to fall forward, "Hey, that hurt!" he said, straightening himself up and glaring toward nobody in particular, "What the hell, man? Don't you... play stupid with me, do you know who I am? I'm Randy goddamn Marsh! I'll kick your ass!" Randy tried to kick forward but only succeeded in kneeing himself in the crotch, "sh*t! He got me in the balls, Stan! Staaan!"
"Mmm he's pretty fucked-up." Ned said with his voicebox, looking toward his almost-but-not-quite nephew. Stan rolled his eyes.
"Eh, he's just a lightweight. He'll clear up quick, Stanley. How about me and Ned take you to the Zoo?" Jimbo offered, but Stan shuddered at the thought of the innocent zoo animals being slaughtered by Jimbo and Ned with their weapons collection, "Oh, I see, you think 'because we're hunters we'll just shoot them all, right? That is a stereotype! Me and Ned love animals, right, Ned?"
"Mmm of course." Ned's voicebox told them, "I even used to have a horse on my father's ranch as a kid."
Jimbo got on one knee to look his nephew in the eye, but all Stan saw was a giant, goopy piece of sh*t, "See Stanley, the thing you need to understand is that just because we like to hunt doesn't make us cold-blooded murderers. We like animals just as much as you do - huntin's just a sport, and, uh, you know, we gotta thin out their numbers. There was this one county, why they banned deer huntin' and everyone had to leave their houses cause the deer took over. Do you see what I'm trying to say?"
"No, Uncle Jimbo, because I know you're lying and that when we go to the zoo some poor animal is gonna 'come right for you' or you're gonna have to 'thin out their numbers' and I'm sick of this same bullsh*t from you." Stan said, spitting as he turned away. "Dick."
"That's fine, you're a pussy anyway, Stanley..." Jimbo called defensively - he clearly didn't mean it and just wanted his nephew to feel guilty. Stan was not affected, keeping a stern look on his face as he approached the door, reaching to leave when he heard someone rise up,
"Hey, don't go so fast, I can go drive you and your dad to the Zoo, I need something to keep me distracted anyway." came the voice of Stuart McCormick holding a Jack Daniels, "I've been trying to control my drinking and-"
"Whatever Kenny's Dad, nice of you to offer since you don't even have car but fine, drive us." Stan said with a hint of bitterness: Stuart was even worse than Randy in every way. He had an even worse relationship with his wife (although one could point out Stuart and Carol had not divorced) drank far more and couldn't even hold a job that sounded vaguely respectable.
"No, Stu, I can handle it..." Randy said, before falling forward, eyes widening and he released a painful throttle of vomit out his mouth and straight on to the floor. Laying in a pile of his own puke, he tried to rise again only to release another concentrated stream of vomit. His half-brother facepalmed,
"This is why we can't have nice things..."
"Hey Kinney, Terrance and Phillip got renewed through 2013, can you believe it? Seventeen seasons!" Cartman said in disbelief, "After how crappy the last season was, they're still moving forward!" he said with anger, banging his pudgy hands on the desk as he sat in the computer lab.
"The last season was cool if you ask me, but I respect your opinion, Eric." Kyle said quickly. Cartman turned his head to face Kyle and smiled,
"Thanks buddy!" he said before turning back to Kenny, "Listen to me, Kinney! I'm talking to you! Take off those headphones you poor piece of crap or I'll tell everyone what a whiny bitch you were about that stupid chick you used to date from Animaniacs." Cartman said angrily. Kenny took off his headphones and glared,
"Cartman, we've been f*cking over this, Tammy was not on Animaniacs. The last name thing is just a coincidence." Kenny said, "What the f*ck do you want?"
"Kinney, Terrance and Phillip were- woah, what the f*ck are you doing?" Cartman said glancing over toward Kenny's computer, where a giant green spaceship was in the middle of an asteroid field, shooting through at hyperspeeds with powerful shield defending it from damage. There were a HUD and controls on the screen but Cartman was focused on the seriouslah epic spaceship action. "Dude, that's f*ckin' sweet!"
"It's called Super Mega Space Death Wars, it's a free online MMPORG. Well, the first twenty-four hours or so really." Kenny said as he manned his position and began shooting at another ship. "It's totally f*cking tits. You get to build your own crew and all sorts of sh*t. It's like The Sims meets Star Trek Online meets Star Wars: The Old Republic meets... uhhhh... f*ck I don't know what else."
"I'm registering an account right away!" Cartman began trying to use the keyboard, although it wasn't easy on his fat fingers, "Tell me when you get a friend invitation from BigBoned!" Kenny laughed loudly, "What?"
"You guys have fun. I'm going to work on my report on Ulysses S. Grant for Social Studies." Kyle said, turning and typing at record-breaking speeds while Cartman and Kenny focused on their game. Kyle glanced back jealously but shook his head and returned to the task at hand.
"My wife wants a divorce. We have to fight for her." Kenny said quickly mashing buttons, "If I beat you, I get promoted to the next rank!"
"Pfft, like you ever had a wife, Kinney." Cartman mashed buttons, trying to defeat Kenny but it wasn't going so well, "Stop it, Kinney! Godammit Kinney you're maing me lose! Kinney!" Cartman pushed Kenny out of his chair angrily, then turned back to the game and button-mashed, "Oh look Kinney, I won!'
"What are you guys playing?" Craig approached, Token and Clyde alongside him. Cartman chuckled and continued mashing buttons, ignoring them. Kenny got a grip on his chair and got off the ground, stretching as he got back in his chair. Kenny looked by Craig,
"We're playing Super Mega Space Death Wars." Kenny explained, "Just Google Search it, you can find it... haha, Cartman, you're a smuggler now you fat piece of sh*t!" he laughed, "You create a character and a ship and there's a bunch of planets and you can dogfight in space or fight on land and there's laser guns and glowy swords and giant robots and living teddy bears and Jackovasaurs!"
"That actually sounds kind of cool... hey guys, wanna try it?" Craig asked his friends. Although Craig hated excitement in real life, he was far from afraid to play exciting video games. Token and Clyde nodded and the trio began to walk off.
"Hey, uh, Clyde, could you stay here for a second?" Cartman said. Clyde raised an eyebrow and approached, "Kahl, Kinney, this is important guys, turn around." The group all turned around to face Clyde, "Clyde, since our friend Stan turned into a colossal butthole we've been... we've been trying really hard to find someone to replace him. It's been a tough process but our first candidate didn't work out so we were hoping to see if you'd like to try."
"Me? Really? You guys wanna hang out with me?" Clyde said, flattered, as he burst out into tears, wiping his eyes with his gloves, "I'm sooo happy!" he cried out.
"Isn't that Craig's joke?" Kyle raised an eyebrow and rolled his eyes before turning back to his project.
The Elephant exhibit at the South Park Zoo was rather well-built: a short fence, some bushes with an information sign, a deep moat, and then an artificial desert landscape. A pair of African bush elephants stood, eating grasses. Stan knew one of those elephants used to belong to Kyle but he couldn't tell them apart - they looked like two gigantic turds. He sighed - the one thing he thought he had left and even animals had become nothing but sh*t to him. He felt so isolated - his eyes were opened to the real world and nobody else seemed to notice. A pigeon landed next to him but as Stan refocused his eyes to get a better look, it seemed to turn into a turd before his very eyes.
"Stan." Randy approached, him and Stuart have sobered up in their time at the zoo so far and instead having bought too much cotton candy for two grown men in their forties to consume, agreeing cotton candy was a far better addiction than alcohol. Stuart waited at the bench while Randy spoke, "Look we have to go soon - we have time for one more exhibit but then we better go home." Randy said, but then perked up, "You're having fun though, right?" Despite Randy's childishness and selfish quest to be young, he seemed to genuinely care about his son and his happiness.
"Uhh, how about the Small Mammal House?" Stan asked hopefully, mentally praying at least one thing he sees doesn't look sh*tty. Randy put a hand on his son's shoulder and tried to put on a smile, feeling bad for Stan. Usually when they went to the zoo Stan was in a great mood, happy and peppy and insisting on seeing everything, but here he was sitting and looking bored and sad. He turned back to Stuart,
"Hey Stu, we're going to the Small Mammal House next!" he called. Stuart raised an eyebrow as he finished his cotton candy and stood up, straightening his back, "You coming with or just going to the car?" Stuart nodded and followed them - Stan knew the zoo's pathways by heart and quickly lead them to the Small Mammal House. He went to the first window and saw a pair of playful river otters in the water. Stan smiled for the first time it what felt like weeks when suddenly, before his eyes, the otters turned into slippery pieces of sh*t. He frowned and looked across to the capybaras - again, he saw the creatures for a moment before they faded, giant moving sh*t in it's place.
"You okay, pal?" Randy asked, putting a hand on Stan's shoulder and getting on one of his knees so he could see his young son in the eye, "Look Stan, I know that since me and your mother split up it's been tough, but I'm still your father and I still want to be a part of your life..." he said quietly, "I know you might feel like since I'm not around you don't have to spend time with me anymore, but I still care about you and your sister."
"It's not you, dad." Stan avoided his father's look, putting his hands in his pockets, "Look, I went to the Doctor a week ago and it turns out..." Stan bit his lip. He shouldn't be telling his father - Randy was would probably just use this as an excuse to try to be a doctor for a week or something before returning to geology like nothing happened, and everything would reset just like mom said. But he was vulnerable and lonely, he had to tell someone the truth, "I have cynicism, dad."
"Awh sh*t, you have that?" Randy said with surprise and a hint of fear - clearly, Randy was familiar with his disorder, "I mean... how about we go over to the library and look up some information on this cynicism? Maybe there's a cure or some way to treat it, you know, like how they treat cancer patients with that stuff that makes their hair fall out."
"That's called chemotherapy, dad." Stan said with a sudden, almost intrusive, glare. He looked down, "What is wrong with me? I'm sorry, dad, you're right... let's just go home." Randy nodded understanding and got up, turning around to find his friend,
"Hey Stuart." Randy turned, "Stu?" he and Stan looked around,
"Over here!" Stuart waved over, body pressed against the glass, "Hey did you know there's these tiny red raccoons that people think are 'pandas'? This is the cutest goddamn thing I've ever seen." A family of extremely terrified Red Pandas were in the back corner of the exhibit, staring out Stuart in deep fear, "This is even better than that time we actually got to go to the movie theater to see Saw... which one was it...?"
"Awh no, don't say something like that, you'll trigger a random flashback!" Randy said with deep concern, hands on his hips, "Aren't we better than that here?"
"I dunno about you, but I sure as hell ain't." Stuart said, staring inside, "Do you think them 89 cents I found on the floor at that arcade is enough to buy a plush of these things? I bet my wife would love it. She likes cute stuff. I don't usually but goddamn these things are awesome."
"Come on Mr. McCormick, we have to get going to the library." Stan crossed his arms, "Besides, my dad can drive now, we'll drop you off at home."
"But I need to buy one of these pandas!"
"Okay, you know what? That does it!" Stan said angrily, pointing toward them first, "Screw you guys,.." he pointed toward the door, ."..I'm going to the library."
"...I'm not leaving until I get a furry animal Jesus." Stuart said, hugging the glass as a zookeeper came in and opened a hatch to take the poor creatures off display. Randy sighed and took out his wallet, opening it and skimming his money,
"All right fine, Stuart. How much... you think five dollars'll do it?
Cartman, Kenny, Clyde, Craig, Token, Jimmy, Jason, Timmy, Kevin, Bebe, Red and Tweek all sat in the computer lab at the South Park Public Library, with twelve of the fourteen available seats filled just by the children playing their game. The thirteenth seat was filled by Officer Barbrady, "Aw I totally killed you, Token, you black assh*le!" Cartman said loudly, "Never miss with a level fifty-four wizard!"
"Cartman, you can't be a wizard in space, that's stupid!" Craig called out with annoyance, flipping Cartman off. The obese nine-year-old looked back and flipped him off as well,
"You're the stupid one, Craig, you're a freakin' engineer. That's totally gay! Who the hell plays an engineer in a Science Fiction world?"
Craig thought for a moment, "James Doohan."
"Heheh, that's gay." Bill and Fosse walked by, giggling along, seemingly attached to usage of the word 'gay' in any situation, "Totally gay." Kevin got up from his computer,
"Don't you dare call James Doohan gay!" Kevin said, kicking Fosse in the balls. Fosse's eyes widened and he fell on the ground screaming out an endless stream of 'this is gay/that's gay/I'm gay' as Bill stared at his cousin with his hand over his mouth in shock. Kevin sat back down by Red and Jason.
"...Kevin godammit!" Cartman said, rolling his eyes as he returned to his game. "Bebe you goddamn whore of course you have 227 friends." he called toward the back of the lab as Tweek pulled out his hair and smashed his head into the keyboard, "Careful Tweek, do that too much and your head might explode."
"Oh God!" Tweek pulled his hair out, "I'm gonna die, man! I'm so gonna- AH, THEY GOT ME!" Tweek said, running away from his desk and screaming like he'd seen a ghost.
"Okay who killed Tweek? That wasn't cool!" Token said, looking around, "Hey, they got me, too! Guys, there's some kind of assassin running around, gotta be around level thirty... I'm down, too... it's Warcraft all over again."
"You boys are so pathetic, all just worried about some dumb ga- hey, they got me too!" Red pouted, Kevin putting a hand on her shoulder for comfort. Craig let out a groan as he died as well. "Aw, and they took all my EXP points! Now I have to start all over again!" Red added, her cousin flipping her off.
"Timmah!" Timmy said. banging on the keyboard in frustration, "Timmay livalaw Timmah!" Suddenly a nearby study room swiveled open and out walked the most dashing and handsome villain of all time, stepping in front of the computer lab,
"Greetings! I am Professor Chaos, bringer of destruction and creator of doom, your feeble starships are no match for me and my minions!" he said with an evil grin as he was joined by his protege, General Disarray.
"So how did our evil plan go this week?" General Disarray asked.
Professor Chaos' sneer disappeared and his normal voice came back as he looked over towards his loyal sidekick, "Hey General Disarray, you're supposed to make a big ol' grand entrance in a minute, I didn't finish my big intro speech and get to you yet... aw hamburgers, who cares anymore? Now, uh, prepare for your doom, video game p-p-players, for my highly-paid assassin is taking you all down!"
Cartman raised an eyebrow, "Butters, no offense man but uh..." Cartman brought out his fist and sneered toward Butters, "f*ck you!"
Professor Chaos stepped toward the back row, "Oh yeah... Bebe, could you get Eric, too?"
"No problem. How much are you paying me again?" Bebe asked as she swiftly pressed the mouse button aimed and fired. Wordlessly, Cartman got up and tossed his headset on the floor. The others all looking around at her, "What, a girl can't be good at a video game? Sexist pigs."
"Bebe, I shoulda known it was you, the f*cking assassin character has huge friggin' hooters and more cleavage than goddamn Lara Croft." Cartman said, before pointing to the rest of the computer lab, "Screw you guys..." he pointed toward the door, "I'm going home!"
"So is anyone ese still playing?" Clyde asked.
"Just you, Kenny, Jimmy, Bebe, Kevin, and m- nevermind, I'm out, too." Jason said, taking off his headset and leaving it, "Wow, what a disappointment..." he said, walking off sadly. Kevin angrily tossed his headset down and marched off. Jimmy said nothing, just sighing, taking his crutches and leaving. Kenny was the last man standing for several moments, trekking through the wilderness when his character was hit by lightening...
"Oh my God, they killed Kenny." Stan walked by the door through the library quietly and stopped for a moment, as if waiting for something. He then sighed, "You bastards." he said quietly with little emotion before he continued onwards toward the diseases section, his father behind him, "Dad, look for C, it should be under there, okay?" Stan said, hoping his father didn't find a way to humiliate them in a public library. Knowing Randy that was too much to ask.
"Stan, I don't see why we can't just see a real Doctor..." Randy crossed his arms with a little annoyance, looking away. Stan rolled his eyes,
"Dad, watching two episodes of House back-to-back is not seeing a real Doctor." Stan said going into an aisle, "And WebMD doesn't count either before you say anything. We know what disease I have, we just need to find a cure for it." he said, looking near the bottom, "Find something on cynicism." Stan said when he saw a red book with the word written on the side, picking it up and opening it. "Cynicism Through The Ages, by Robert T. Pooner..." Stan looked for the first page... "Famous cynics... Niccolo Machiavelli, Jonathan Swift... aw, dude, who would wanna eat babies? That's f*cking disgusting!"
"Stanley, language!" Randy said angrily, arms crossed. He sighed and shook his head, "Sorry... look your mother called, I have to bring you home in fifteen minutes so grab your books and I'll drive you home."
"Awh but dad, we just got here!" Stan protested as he took the book under his arm. He was getting so sick of his parents pushing him around since the divorce. He was like a prize, being held hostage by mother or father solely to make the other feel miserable. His sister, meanwhile, got the more traditional treatment with both parents buying her things to win her over. If only they knew what a bitch she really was. "All right, let me read a little more and then we'll go to the register, mom's house is only like five minutes from here..." he mumbled as he read off the page: "The greatest hazard of all, losing one's self, can occur very quietly in the world, as if it were nothing at all. No other loss can occur so quietly - any other: an arm, a leg, money, a wife, is sure to be noticed."
"...Stan, what are you reading? Is that existenti- existenti- exi- that weird bullsh*t?" Randy put his hands on his hips and took the book out of Stan's hands, "Cynicism is a disease of the brai- oh, it is a book on cynicism. Soren Kierkegaard... what kind of name is that?" Randy shrugged and tucked the book under his arm, "Look Stanley, I think I better bring you back to your mother, okay?"
"Okay, dad..." Stan sighed as they approached the desk to leave. The nice lady at the counter smiled, greeted them and took Stan's library card and the book, and scanned both. "Thank you." Stan said as she handed them back and they walked out toward the car.
Kyle was sitting at his computer typing up a new Terrance & Phillip fanfic when his door opened up and Cartman, Kenny and Clyde answered unannounced. He quickly saved, minimized the window and opened a game of solitaire. Suddenly his heard jerked to the side, "YOU BASTARDS!" he shook his head and got out of his computer chair, "Sorry, dunno what came over me... how are you guys?"
"Butters is being an ass and killed everyone at the library and my mom was busy with a friend or something so we came here with our laptops. That's okay, right Jew?" Cartman did not say any of this with the usual trademarked brand of venom reserved for Kyle and only Kyle. No, in fact, he said it in a playful tone.
"I guess it's okay." Kyle answered with a nod as they came in, Cartman quickly rooting himself on the bed and opening his Netbook, laying on his fat belly like a cushion. Clyde sat with his back to the bed's side, laptop in his lap as he logged on. Kenny sat his laptop on the floor but sat up as he used it, "You guys still playing that stupid space game?"
"Of course, dude. I just reached won a duel with... Marc3.. 1... 2... oh whatever, Marc a bunch of numbers... and then I unlocked a new side quest on Dantooine." Clyde said as he eagerly mashed the buttons to move forward in his game. Kenny was playing even more devilishly well.
"Dude, this is f*cking awesome." Kenny said, getting up and cheering "I just found a new planet and I get to name it after me! Planet Kennya!"
"You named a planet Kennya? Dude, that's a great idea!" Clyde said.
"Yeah, Clyde's right, that's awesome! What a totally creative planet name!" Cartman said, without the dripping sarcasm one would normally associate him with, "Hey guys, could I borrow ten credits to rent a hovercraft?" he looked down toward Clyde and Kenny, "Just ten credits? Please?"
"I spent all my credits on this sweet bandolier." Clyde said, motioning to his character ingame, who looked like a purple alien with two stalks off his head and yellow eyes, wearing a brown-and-blue T-shirt with, yes, a bandolier on him. Cartman rolled his eyes and looked to Kyle for support,
"I wish dude, I don't really play MMPORG's besides Warcraft." Kyle answered as he got back up to his computer desk, opened up his internet browser and logged online. "I mean, don't get me wrong it sounds like fun, but sometimes it's hard enough to remember to check my Warcraft account, you know? None of you guys ever seems to log on, it's like everyone just moved on..."
"Sorry Kahl, I'll log on later and we'll kill some boars- aw, Clyde, your stupid girlfriend just shot me again! f*cking slut!" Cartman said angrily, looking incredulous anyone in the game would even think of shooting him, "Godammit, I need a chocolate gun..." he got up and went to leave for one.
"Don't call my girlfriend a slut, Cartman, or I'll kick your ass!" Clyde narrowed his eyes and balled his fists - the honor of his girlfriend was far more important than some video game. Cartman balled his fists and took a fighting stance as he glared,
"Eh! I'm a black belt in karate class Clyde! Believe me, I'll f*ck you up! Back me up on this, Kahl! Tell Clyde I'm a black belt!" Cartman claimed as he held up his fists.
Kyle wasn't one to lie, but this was his best friend Cartman, he couldn't just let Cartman have his ass handed to him, could he? "Uhh... yeah, sure, Cartman's a black belt." Kyle lied, "We used to call him the Ass Master because he, uh, could kick all of our asses." Total lies. All three of them had, at some point, had Cartman beat. Wendy had even beat the sh*t out of him once.
"Guys, I just reached level fifty-four!" Kenny bragged suddenly, "I made the top ten highest level users on the leaderboards... at least for the United States." regardless, Kenny got up and cheered like he'd just won the lottery. Kyle shrugged, when suddenly there was a knock at his door. He got up and answered to see his mother Sheila, her arms crossed.
"Kyle, bubbe, there's another little girl at the front door to see you." Sheila explained, normally she'd be excited to know a girl was over to see Kyle but she had arms crossed and didn't seem too thrilled. This girl must have really not been her style for some reason. Kyle nodded, turning around,
"Guys, I'll be back in a bit." he nodded as he skipped downstairs to the front door to see Wendy, clutching a textbook and looking rather nervous as she stood at the doorstep, "Wendy, what the hell are you doing here now?"
"...Mrs. Broflovski, may I speak to Kyle alone?" Wendy asked. Sheila nodded and went into the kitchen. She sighed and turned, "Kyle, I don't know who else to turn to. It's just... I thought on the cruise me and Stan had really mended our relationship, you know? And now it seems he can't say a word to me unless he's telling me how sh*tty he thinks I am. You're his best friend, Kyle, you know how to fix things, right? I mean I know we're not totally best friends after that whole fiasco but please, I need your help."
"Dude, Wendy, f*ck Stan." Kyle said, eyes narrow, How could she be so blind? It was as if her entire sense of self seemed to hang on Stan, Stan, Stan. What a stupid freakin' bitch. "He's become a selfish douchebag. Grow up and get over him already. Find someone new."
"Come on, Kyle, don't you believe in true love?" Wendy said with a frown, her brown eyes low. Kyle inhaled, then exhaled, putting a hand on her shoulder and looking her in the eyes,
"Wendy, you're f*cking nine. You don't even have the hormones that scientifically cause us to feel 'love'. You're way too young to get this obsessive with a boy. Besides, the Stan you and I knew is gone, he's been replaced by an assh*le who sees only sh*t. He's dead, Wendy. Find a hobby and get over it already. Let it go." Kyle shut the door.
After a few minutes and making sure Wendy didn't plan on coming back, Kyle went upstairs and found his toilet and sat upon the seat, preparing to expel waste, humming a tune. There was a rather loud gaseous noise, and he let out a grunt as there was a loud plop, Kyle heard a loud moan from his toilet, "...hello?" he said looking down, "...was that...?"
The new "Marsh family" home was in the luxury division of South Park, not far from Token and Wendy. It was a large purple house with four bedrooms, three bathrooms, a yard with a wrought-iron fence, a spacious kitchen, a family room, a den, a dining room, a large basement... Stan had been told by his mother when her parents found news of the divorce they gave her a rather generous of cash for the sake of the new house, As Randy pulled up in his car, he got out with his son and went to the front door. Sharon entered with a half-smile, "Hello Randy. Did you and Stan spend the afternoon together?" she asked.
"Yep." Randy smiled, hands on his hips, "I'll see you again in a few days, Stan, have fun with your mother." After admitting their problems and putting everything on the table, Sharon and Randy have maintained a friendly relationship since, and Stan had a fleeting feeling his father hoped for reconciliation, although he could tell his mother was done with him. "Sharon, can I talk to you?"
"Of course, Randy." she nodded, allowing Randy to enter the house with Stan, "Stan, why don't you go say 'hi' to your sister? She's been on her laptop all day iChatting with her boyfriend again. I'm getting worried about that girl, it's like all she cares about is her computer." she said. Stan rolled his eyes simply, not bothering to argue with Sharon about Shelley's online communication habits. Sharon sat down with Randy across from each other at the kitchen table, "I'm making some coffee..." she noted, "So Randy, how's the single life going?"
Randy avoided her gaze, clearly unhappy with himself, "Oh, it's going fantastic, you know, I'm already seeing someone new..." this was not a lie, yet it did not feel like the truth, "You know, uh, the nurse at Hell's Pass Hospital, Rita Goodly? I have her number."
"Oh, good luck!" Sharon gave a supportive smile, "I was seeing the school counselor Mr. Mackey but he, uh, he wasn't interested in anything long-term..." she sighed, getting up and pouring coffee into two mugs, passing one to her ex-husband. "I don't know if I should be so quick to rush back into dating... I mean I'm getting old, Randy. I just turned forty. I mean, look at you, you're two years older than me and you already have a few gray hairs."
"What!" Randy shot up from the table, "Oh God, where is it? Please tell me it's not on my mustache! Please, Sharon, for all that is good and holy, please tell me my mustache is safe!" Randy said desperately, putting his hands on Sharon's shoulders. His ex-wife's eyes widened as she looked around,
"I... I... no they're near your left ear, I just..." Sharon covered her mouth, hoping no more spilled out, realizing she was setting Randy off. He looked at her, then dashed out the door as if he had to find some kind of important tool he had forgotten. Sharon got up and looked around.
"Hi Shelley." Stan said, hands in his pockets as he entered his sister's new purple room. Shelley got up from her computer and approached Stan, her blue eyes staring into his with deep hatred. Stan was ready to back away in fear when Shelley punched him in the cheek, knocking Stan back as he felt his teeth crunch against her knuckles, "Ow! Dammit!" Shelley swung another into his left eye, pushing him against the wall as he stared at her with the remaining good eye,
"Schtan!" she narrowed her eyes at him in anger, "What do you want, turd?" Indeed, all he saw was a giant, strong-armed turd.
"Shelley, what do you know about cynicism?" Shelley's eyes widened as she dropped Stan from the wall and looked at him as if seeing him in a new light, She put him down and the fists in her hands disappeared,
Shelley shook her head, "No Schtan, don't tell me you have schynishishm." she said, looking her brother in the eye, "You're jusht curioush? It'sh a joke, right Turdly McTurddington?"
"No, I was diagnosed the other day." Stan said, looking at his sister pleadingly, "Dr. Taylor said it's one of the worst cases he's ever seen."
"Oh no..." Shelley looked up, "Look Shtan there'sh... shomething you need to undershtand..." she put a hand on his shoulder, "You have a sherioush illnessh, and ash much ash I hate you, you're my brother, and I have to help you. Thish will get better, jusht wait." she promised him, turning, now thinking more out loud than anything, "I'll shign you up for a therapy group, they alwaysh help with this short of thing... and then if you shtick to your treatments in a few years it should jusht shtart to shlowly regressh."
"Regress? Treatments? Shelley, how do you know so much about cynicism?"
Shelley turned and looked at him, glaring again, "Look, turd, you're not the only one in the family with schynishishm..."
To Be Continued...
(Small note - I'm actually a big fan of Wendy. She's treated harshly in this fic for the sake of satire of the fans' usual opinion of her, not because I dislike her.)
Clyde, Kyle, Cartman, and Kenny all stood at the bus stop the next morning, awaiting Mr. Venezuela and the bus. They sat in their perfect order when Clyde stepped forward, "You guys this isn't right."
"What are you talking about?" Kyle raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms with confusion. It was perfect - Clyde was closest to the bus stop, then Kyle, then Cartman and finally Kenny. "Everyone's here, it's right order - what's not to love, dude?"
"Every time one of you guys is missing you try to fill the spot. You replaced Cartman with me during that stupid sled thing, and when Kenny was on vacation in Malibu (Kenny coughed loudly at this) you replaced him with Butters and then Tweek, and now you're trying to replace Stan with me! It's not right! Stop treating your group like it's some stupid organization - you can't just 'replace' your friends. It doesn't work that way."
Cartman rolled his eyes, "Shut up, Clyde, okay? Either you're our new Stan, or we kick you out and go ask Jimmy or Timmy to replace you, okay? Okay, Clyde?"
Clyde sighed and looked down submissively, "Okay, fine..." he said. Craig, Token, Jason and Jimmy began walking by toward their own bus stop when Clyde stepped in front, "Woah woah, you guys replaced me with Jason? Seriously? Dude, nobody likes Jason!"
"Sorry Clyde, we just needed a f-f-f-fah, f-f-f-faah, f-f-f-fresh face." Jimmy said, standing still on his crutches as his eyes met Clyde's. "It's nothing p-p-personal."
Jason turned to face his friends, books under his arms, "Wh-what do you mean nobody likes me?" he looked to Token and Craig, "He's kidding, right? Guys?"
"I can't believe you dicks! We're supposed to be best friends, Craig, but here you go replacing me with f*cking Jason! Couldn't it at least be someone half-decent like Tweek or Kevin?" he begged, "I mean seriously, was this really all I was to you? The kid who gives homework answers?"
"...what's wrong with giving people homework answers?" Jason said quietly, looking to his new friends for support. Craig rolled his eyes and stepped forward,
"Look Clyde, you left the group, that was your decision, if a sh*tty one. Then you joined this group. Clearly, that means Jason is more popular than you now. Get the hell over it." Craig said, "Kevin's a nerd and Tweek's f*cking annoying. Quit pissing your pants and have fun with your sh*tty new friends, deserter. I have to get to therapy..." Craig walked off.
"Fine, leave!" Clyde called, "What is it with groups of four..." he crossed his arms as Token, Jason and Jimmy followed Craig off.
"Your old friends are f*cking weird." Kenny noted to Clyde, who rolled his eyes when the four were approached again, this time by five girls. Wendy, Bebe, Heidi, Annie and Red stood together in front of the boys. "Hey ladies, you're all looking sexy today!"
"Oh, thank you, Kenny!" Bebe smiled and blushed, not really considering that Tammy Warner, if she was here, would probably be socking her in the face. And it was well-known that Tammy had a pretty killer right hook, so this was no laughing matter.
"Oh, of course a stupid slut like you thanks him for being a sexist bastard!" Heidi rolled her eyes at Bebe, glaring as she turned her head, mousy hair swaying in the wind. Heidi put her hands on her hips, "You think you're so smart, Bebe, you stupid spoiled whore."
"Yeah Bebe, you're an ugly skank, how about you f*ck off and leave us alone?" Cartman said angrily, moving next to Heidi and flipping Bebe off, "Nobody wants your freakin' herpes!" Clearly this was revenge for her killing his character back in Super Mega Death Space Wars.
"Man, Annie, Red, can I join your group?" Kenny said enthusiastically, finding the idea of spending every living hour with a bunch of girls far more entertaining than doing so with a bunch of assh*le guys who can barely remember or even notice him or his actions. Red, like her cousin would, flipped him off.
Wendy rolled her eyes and stepped forward, "Kyle, could I speak with you, please?" Kyle knew what this was about, sighed and stepped aside with her, "Look Kyle, I'm sorry about yesterday but it's really important to me we have a talk about this... there has to be something you know about Stan's condition, I'm really worried..."
"Wendy, how about you stop making such a big deal about it? You two are ten years old, you're too young to be worrying about any of this relationship stuff. Besides, he could do so much better. I mean what kind of guy thinks a flat-chested brunette in freakin' pink and purple is hot?" Kyle said, putting his own hands on his hips with annoyance at her. Wendy looked down,
"Eh, go easy on the ho, Kyle, I don't want her to try to kick your ass, buddy." Cartman said, putting a hand on Kyle's shoulder for comfort. He then turned back to Bebe, "Yeah, well f*ck you Bebe!"
"Look Wendy, do everyone else a favor and just f*ck off." Kyle spat on the ground. Wendy sighed and turned, leaving, finally getting the message. Kyle returned to his group, "Godammit where is that freakin' bus already?"
Stan had his arms crossed as he sat in his pull-up chair - this whole idea seemed pretty sh*tty to him. It wasn't fair. Why did he have to sit here with all these people discussing a disease nobody else understood? What a load of sh*t.
A man in his late fifties with blue eyes, square glasses and thick gray hair entered, sitting back and wearing a blue sweater over a white buttoned shirt, and holding his pen firmly to his clipboard, "All right everyone, my name is Dr. Marshall. How are we all feeling?" he smiled warmly.
"sh*tty." everyone answered with mixes of sadness and anger.
"Understood. Now cynics, we have a new member in our therapy group today, everyone please give a warm welcome to Stan." he motioned to Stan, who gave a small, bored wave.
"Dammit Billy, no grandson of mine is getting cynicism! First you young people remake our movies, then you take away our health care and now you want our diseases!" Grampa Marsh complained.
"Grampa, leave Shtan alone, hesh going through a tough-shit time right now. How eashy wash it for you when you shtarted sheeing turdsh everywhere, huh?" Shelly said angrily, facing her grandfather with contempt, "Why won't people realishe thish sh*t is hereditary."
"Hereditary? Oh no, not Bebe." Mr. Stevens, a quiet man with brown hair and glasses in a suit put a hand over his face, "Not my poor daughter! God spare her!"
"It's not hereditary, that's a load of sh*t! Nobody in my family had cynicism and look at me." Craig Tucker proceeded to flip off each and every person present, "You're all just looking for an excuse to bitch about it, something to blame, a cause instead of a cure."
"Poser." Sparrow, the goth boy with red hair, flipped it out of his face, "You're whining, too, little freakin' conformist. We all have a problem, you know, not just you and your dumb finger."
"Timmih!" Timmy agreed, moving his wheelchair forward to emphasize his point. Linda Stotch continued to cry into her handkerchief, mascara running. She had no comment still.
"Look, everyone, try to relax, you're all here because you all have an incurable disease, one our scientists know very, very little about. We have no treatment, no theories, all we know is after a birthday - usually the tenth or fortieth, but it can be any - a patient develops a severe case of it and sees absolutely nothing but pure sh*t everywhere, progressing at a rate that seems to range by individual. We had the town's best working on it, but Dr. Mephesto has refused to work and Dr. Marsh took time off to teach his new T. M. I. formula. The disease's rates have been skyrocketing in the past decade and we just don't know what to do. The point of this therapy session is so you can all come to terms with your condition."
"Sir," Craig piped in patiently, "I just want you to know, I have absolutely no respect for you whatsoever."
"I am okay with that." Dr. Marshall replied simply, "Now, I'd like you all to name the one thing or person who looks worst to you. Who is the biggest, grossest, droopiest piece of sh*t you've encountered? Who's the biggest turd, huh?"
"He- that weird freaky voodoo chick who hangs out with us." Sparrow said quietly and apathetically.
"My little brother." Shelly crossed her arms and looked into Stan's direction.
"Either my ex-best friend or my dumbass girlfriend." Stan answered truthfully.
"My wife's looked like total sh*t to me for years now." Mr. Stevens admitted.
"Gobbles!" Timmy said loudly before rubbing his wrist and staring off into space again, as he did.
"My husband and son are the only ones I've ever seen this way... everyone else seems fairly normal..." Linda said, slowly calming down, mascara still running down her cheeks, "Just earlier I caught Steven watching a gay- I mean, a movie, and he looked like complete sh*t."
Craig flipped Dr. Marshall off and refused to answer the question.
"It's all the same sh*t to me." Grampa replied with honesty.
"Interesting results... it seems a recurring theme with this disease is a loss of friends, or loved ones. But until we can find a way to properly isolate the pathogen, I'm afraid there's little we can do but watch the relationships deteriorate."
"All right class, it's time for that Math exam I mentioned to you the other day." Mr. Garrison passed out papers to the students, who in turn passed them until each student had their paper, "Good luck, all right?" Garrison sat at his desk and looked at his framed photograph again. The kids quickly picked up their pencils and began writing. Cartman looked both ways,
"Pssst, Clyde, Clyyyde, psst, Clyde, what's the answer to number four?" he whispered. Clyde glared at Cartman, then returned to his work, scribbling his answers in quickly, "Clyde you black assh*le, come on, Stan always let me copy!" Clyde's mouth opened in angry shock.
"Uh, I'll help you, Eric." Butters volunteered with a friendly smile.
Cartman rolled his eyes, "Butters, f*ck off."
Garrison looked up, angry to be torn from his memories to deal with an unruly student again, "Eric, is there a problem?"
"Yes, there is, Mr. Garrison. Clyde's being a friggin' dick!" Cartman whined, jabbing a fat finger at Clyde with anger, Kyle watched with deep concern for his friend as Cartman glared at Clyde.
"Cartman's trying to copy off Clyde's test answers." Kenny explained, much to Cartman's chagrin.
"Kinney, you tattle-tailing freak! I'm going to make you wish you were never conceived you little bastard!" Cartman said reaching for Kenny but unable to get to him through Red's desk, "Godammit you stupid bitch, get out of the way!"
"Don't call her a bitch, Cartman!" Kevin Stoley interjected.
"Oh Kevin, stay out of it, f*cking geek, 'ohh wah my stupid ginger girlfriend got called a bitch!'" Cartman mocked as he tried to reach for Kenny, "Kinney godammit!"
"Eric, please stop trying to copy off other students' papers or trying to beat up other students or so help me..." Garrison grinded his teeth with anger.
"It's not my fault Clyde's being a dick, Mr. Garrison." Cartman said in his own defense, though he did little to help his own case, "Usually I'd copy off my best friend," he motioned to Kyle, "But I wouldn't dare get Kahl in trouble. Then I'd try Stan, but now he has that stupid disease. Thinks he's so goddamn special when he's just a boring tu-"
Garrison shot up from his desk and slammed his fists down, "Eric Theodore Cartman, how dare you disrespect me in my own classroom like this!" he stepped forward, reaching Cartman's facial level, "First you make fun of your best friend, the day after Friendship Day nonetheless, and now you're insulting a student with a serious chronic illness? How about you get the f*ck out of my classroom and go see Principal Victoria immediately!" the bell rang, and Garrison's demeanor immediately changed, "Enjoy your lunch, students!" he smiled and returned to his photograph.
"Principal Victoria, Eric is out of control." Mr. Garrison said, hands on his hips, standing next to Cartman, who was playing with his iPhone in a chair across from Principal Victoria. "I can no longer keep him in my class, he's just... he's too much for me! I'm sorry! I've taken it for two years now, I just- I can't handle it anymore. Get this bastard out of my classroom before I go f*cking insane."
"Mr. Garrison, are you all right?" Principal Victoria said, "I understand Eric's quite a handful but you seem to be having some kind of a nervous breakdown right now..."
Cartman coughed as he texted on his iPhone, "Mr. Garrison's always having a freakin' nervous breakdown, he sucks ass. He's even worse than that gay ass Transformers 3 movie. Megan Fox wasn't even in the damn thing!"
"Shut your f*cking mouth, Eric!" Garrison screamed, much to Victoria's and Cartman's shock. Cartman then resumed what he was doing, albeit silently.
"Mr. Garrison, you can't behave this way to students. I'm going to give you a few days off to sort your things out. If you're not all right soon, we're going to have to suspend your teaching license. Mr. Mackey will take over the class for you, okey-dokey?" Victoria said. Garrison glared with hate.
"Fine, you watch Principal Victoria, you'll see me again real soon!" Garrison marched out overdramatically like a child losing his toys. Then he returned, "Oh, and uh, I forgot to say, Eric was cheating off other students' test answers."
"EH!" Cartman yelled as Garrison left the room again, "Principal Victoria, can I go to lunch now please? Me very hungry. I'm so hungry I could eat a zorse." Cartman begged, "Get it? A zorse? You know what a zorse is, right?"
"I don't really care, Eric. Look, God knows how much I've let you get away with already..." she sighed heavily, "Look Eric, if you don't clean up your act soon, I'm going to have to expel you - just wait until you step another toe out of line, you'll be gone sooner than the Flash."
Cartman raised an eyebrow, "...Principal Victoria, is that cultural reference really relevant to the topic at hand, or is it just a pointless cultural observance for humorous value? This isn't a Family Guy fanfic here."
Victoria rubbed her forehead, "Eric, I will make whatever cultural references I please. Now go to lunch already before I really do expel you!" she said angrily, sitting back at her desk as Cartman rushed out, "Next student!"
"I can't believe they still haven't found a new cafeteria chef, I mean there's plenty of poor, jobless adults in South Park and the only people to show up have been Mr. Derp and Stan's Dad." Kyle noted to Clyde, who nodded in agreement. The two sat next to each other with Kenny to Kyle's left and Jimmy to Clyde's right. Opposite them sat Jason, Token, Craig and Timmy. In the spirit of Friendship Day, everyone was sitting with their respective choices - thus why Timmy was allowed at the kids' table, and why Butters was off with Dougie.
"Yeah, nobody makes tacoes like good ol' Chef." Clyde observed, poking the 'healthy' taco on his plate. A lot of the school's new healthy food was good but f*ck did the new tacoes taste like sh*t. Suddenly they heard a voice and Clyde and Kyle made room for Cartman, who joined them with his tray, and a hamburger.
"You guys, you guys, I'm so seriously, you won't believe what I just came up with!" Cartman said, breathing heavily, he shoved a few fries in his throat as everyone, except Kenny, stared for a response. He then sighed, "Okay, so you know the Space Wars game? Tonight afterschool we're going to have an online party at World 58. Bring your weapons, your armor, your ship, your items, your money, everything. It's going to be off the freakin' hook."
"Yeah, cool, we can pay Bebe to walk around and guard everyone." laughed Craig, "Make sure no assh*les come in and kill everybody." the other kids laughed along with him, "No, but seriously, we should invite everyone in our school - nobody else though."
"Yeah, Craig's right, it'll be like the parties my dad has for his old college buddies all the time, except nobody's going to bring a bunch of cocaine and get arrested." Token said as if it was no big deal, taking a bite of his hamburger, "Is it really too much to ask for cheese on the burger? I mean really?"
"Anyway, everyone here is invited - except Kinney, because Kinney's lame and has no friends!" Cartman smirked, "Hahaha, you have no friends, 'because you are poor and lame, and poor people don't have social lives, nyah nyah nyah nyah nyah!"
"Well I can't make it either, Eric, I don't really play that game..." Kyle confessed, "I mean I've been meaning to but I had so much homework yesterday and I dunno online gaming's not my thing, and I'm still kind of a Wacraft guy..."
"Pfft, don't worry Kahl, I'll walk you through character creation, buddy, how about afterschool in the library computer lab? Assuming Barbrady isn't there again checking if he has a Wikipedia page yet..."
Officer Barbrady sat in the dark at the South Park Public Library on the sole computer still on, "Doo-dee-doo-dee-doo-dee-dee, where's my article wiki!" he said as he went to Wikipedia and searched 'Officer Barbrady' only to be redirected to List of Terrance & Phillip Supporting Characters, "Aw, nuts."
"I appreciate it, Eric, but I can't make it, I promised my parents I'd watch my brother tonight. Maybe tomorrow?" Kyle offered. Normally Cartman'd call him a dumb stupid jew, but instead he smiled and put a hand on his shoulder,
"Any time, buddy!"
Jason covered his mouth, "Awwh, this is making me freakin' sick!" he said, looking rather queasy indeed, "It's like watching Cloverfield in fast forward."
"Shut up Jason, nobody even knows who the hell you are! How about you go back to Denver you stupid wannabe character?" Cartman yelled. Jason, dejected, sighed and got up to leave, followed by Token who turned and glared at Cartman. "See you, dickwads." He took the now open seat between Craig and Timmy.
"Hey Kenny, why you so d-d-d-dow, d-d-d-dow-dow, d-d-d-down?" Jimmy asked to the boy in the orange hoodie, who had a hand on his cheek and was looking away, "You okay, p-p-pal? Kenny?"
"Jimmy, not right now..." Kenny sighed heavily, closing his eyes and mentally blowing off steam already. He just wanted to be alone right now.
"All right class, now we're going to talk about the songs that sound the shittiest, to us? How about uh, Mrs. Stotch?" Dr. Marshall said, looking over to Mrs. Stotch, who stood up, holding her hands and looking nervous, "Go on, Linda, nobody's judging you."
"...uhhh... B-B-B-Barbra Streisand... anything by her..." she sat down and began crying her eyes out again. Marshall rolled his eyes,
"Yet another person who believes Barbra Streisand is the worst and shittiest singer of all-time - starting to feel more like a statistic than an opinion." Marshall said, "Guess I'm going to have to be one to introduce everyone to Rebecca Black." Suddenly there was a knock.
"Sorry, am I interrupting anything?" everyone turned to the doorway to see Herbert Garrison peering in. The school teacher stepped forward and scratched the back of his head. "I mean, hell... I-I think I have a mild, a MILD case. No, I need to stop lying. A severe case. One so severe I lost my best friend over it."
"Mr. Garrison?" Stan raised an eyebrow with surprise, "You're a cynic?"
"Sir, this is a closed session, who let you in?" Marshall stood up, tucking the clipboard under his arm as he turned around.
"One of your interns, the blonde with the accent." Garrison explained, "Listen Dr. Marshall, I-I'm not here for myself, I'm here for my best friend. He needs this much more than I do..."
"Best friend?" Stan asked.
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