Luckily for Stan, the Stevens family was one of the few who didn't show up to the wedding. It wasn't Bebe's fault. She wanted to go. It was her mother who had screwed up everything.

Mr. Stevens made his living selling used cars, often working late nights and weekends leaving Mrs. Stevens to her housewife hobbies. Usually, Bebe enjoyed her mother's side projects, Bonnie would work in her garden when it was warm, filling Bebe's room with fresh flowers. Her mother would sell Avon, leaving Bebe with a vast array of samples to add to her makeup kit. She would fire up her sewing machine, letting Bebe to model her mother's creations across the living room. At first, Bebe had liked her mother's new hobby of wedding planner, helping her pick out table displays and tasting different cakes. Bebe had always been a fan of any activity involving sparkly, lacy, sweet tasting and pretty things.

The trouble had started after the egg project. Bonnie had been excited at first that her daughter had been chosen to represent the lesbian side of gay marriage, with her best friend nonetheless. She was even happier when the bill had been passed, mostly because of Bebe's and Wendy's male counterparts in the experiment. Bonnie had chattered on during dinner that evening that with all the gay marriages to be coming up her wedding planning business would surely take off. Her ideas growing more and grander between serving her husband and daughter different flavors of wedding cake samples she had spent the day baking. Her father smiled and humored her mother in planning her dream business of the moment, but Bebe had bent her head over her slice of devil's food, cursing herself for being honest when her mother asked what they had learned in school that day. Because of Mrs. Garrison's lectures disguised as rants Bebe had let it slip to her mom that the gay wedding of the century was currently going to happen that weekend, right in their town. She hadn't known that her mom would actually call up Mr. Slave and Big Gay Al trying to get them to use her party planning services. The two men had politely declined but Bonnie hadn't given up, her phone calls growing more and more frequent and aggressive.

Bebe had ignored the situation, instead picking out her new dove gray dress with pearl jewelry to go along with some silver kitten heeled shoes with an adorable sparkly flower accent. Bebe had been admiring herself in the mirror, imagining her silver dress playing off the pink dress Wendy said she was going to wear when she heard the hall way phone's receiver slam down and her mother appearing in her doorway.

"Save that dress for church, honey. We aren't going to the wedding."

Bebe had tried to protest that she would be the only one out of her friends who wouldn't be there. But she was informed that Big Gay Al told her mother to stop calling and not to bother coming to the wedding at all or they would be promptly escorted out. Bonnie had gotten the entire Stevens family banned from going to the wedding on police orders.

Instead Bebe was spending her now free Saturday holed up in her room doing her math homework. She felt it was a small way to get back at her mother by being really good at math, and she succeeded for the most part. The higher Bebe kept her GPA the more satisfied she felt fighting the dumb blonde stereotype her mother seemed to perpetuate. Bebe was not as studious as Wendy though. She had gotten through most of the assigned multiplication table homework quickly and easily but she had set it aside for now. In front of her was a blank sheet of pretty flowered stationary.

Future telling devices had gotten boring; especially after that weird little boy Butters had gone through all that trouble to steal one from Heidi's sleepover. Boys could be so incredibly stupid. Bebe was a bit concerned if Butters actually liked dressing up like a girl; he had taken a bit too well to the makeover Bebe and her friends had given him. Bebe shoved the disturbing thought out of her head as she turned to her own latest and greatest hobby. Her new thing was making lists in the back of her school notebooks. The thing was there was so much criteria in deciding what order things should go in. She had already gotten Lola and Esther in on it, the three of them sitting together at recess and giving their opinions. Bebe's next step was to get more girls into it, possibly organizing some kind of club for list making.

She was staring a list of potential girls to ask to join the club when she heard a knock at her door once again. Her father must be at work by now, it had to be her mother, coming to apologize she hoped. Not likely though.

"Bebe?"

Bebe got up to lock the bedroom door. "I'm busy, Mom, come back later."

"But you have a phone call, Sweetie."

Her hand froze on the door handle. Who could be calling her now? All her friends had to still be at the wedding. "Who is it?"

"It's a boy. Open up, Bebe."

Bebe unlocked the door and flung it open, gawking at her smiling mother. "A boy?"

Bonnie smiled even wider as she handed her daughter the phone. "My, the boys sure do love my little girl. He sounded nervous, maybe he wants to ask you out on a date."

"Well give me some privacy then, Mom." Bebe slowly shut her bedroom door again as she carefully held the receiver to her ear. "Hello?"

"Bebe?" A strained male voice said through the other end, a loud high pitched noise could be heard in the background.

Bebe held the phone away from her ear slightly as she sat back down at her desk. "Yeah it's me. Who is this?"

The voice came back through the phone, choked and panicked. "It's Stan. I need your help; can you come to my house right now?"

"Stan? What the hell? What's going on over there?"

"I'll explain when you get here. You remember where I live, right?"

"Yes? Why do you want me to go over there?"

His voice came in and out through the phone, like he was pacing back and forth. "Because of school. Kyle isn't around and I have no one else who can help me. Get over here right now and bring doll clothes."

"Wait, doll clothes? Stan!" She was met with the dial tone. Bebe stared at the phone for a bit before hanging up, burying her head in her arms at her desk. She knew giving him her phone number was a bad idea. She heard her bedroom door open and felt a soft hand on her hair, fingers combing though the curls. Her mother had probably been listening at the door.

"You seem upset. Did you let him down easily Bebe?"

"No mom it's not like that, I think he wants homework help." Or help with some great disaster more likely, dismantle a bomb, hide a dead body, and destroy incriminating evidence. Bebe was well aware of Wendy's ex and his little adventures. Why did he need to get her involved?

Bonnie paid no attention as she grabbed a comb off her daughter's dresser and starting running it through Bebe's hair. "That's my girl, taking after her mother, pretty and smart."

Bebe got up, swatting the comb away. Looking into her mother's aged face, hair perfectly styled and wearing about an inch of makeup. Thoughts of her mother constantly nagging her father to let her use some of their savings to get her get some plastic surgery. It was one of Bebe's worst fears, to grow up to be as shallow as her mother.

"Well I have to go, Mom, he needed me right away. Big math test on Monday." Alien visitors, a mutant bacteria strain outbreak, maybe a werewolf was currently on the loose. Only she could help him because Kyle wasn't around?

Bebe made a show of grabbing her back pack and shoving the contents of her desk into it. School books, her lists, her makeup bag, fashion magazines and the large bag of candy she had bought earlier that week. Survival supplies. Sadly after she heard her family was banned from the wedding she had changed back into her normal clothes but slipped back on the fabulous silver shoes. She hoped whatever she was about to do wouldn't involve running. She went over to her toy box and after a bit of hesitation she selected her least favorite baby doll, wondering what the hell Stan wanted to do with it. Voodoo sacrifice?

Her mother was still hovering. "If things work out with that boy, invite him over for dinner. I'm making pork chops tonight!"

"Mom, stop it. It's Wendy's ex boyfriend, nothing is going on!"

"You never know, your eyes could meet over the study books, your hands touch, slowly a smile spreads over that boy's face."

Bebe's mental image went from human sacrifices and supernatural beings to Wendy covered in puke stains.

"With looks like yours, Bebe, you don't have to try very hard at all!"

That did it. Bebe said nothing as she started down the stairs, her stomps shaking the pictures hung along the wall. She slammed the front door shut and stood on her front porch, trying to clear her head.

She was already quite used to this kind of behavior from her mom and others. Because she was told she was attractive, people would constantly accuse Bebe of trying to get by on just her looks. Bebe hated to think about the constant gossip behind her back. It left her afraid to even try going after one of the boys in her class for friends or something more, save for shy smiles she'd exchange with Clyde Donovan during school lectures when she thought no one else was looking. She crossed her front yard, reminded of the time all the boys in her class showing up to her house, camping out on her front lawn and eventually fighting over her. That had been too overwhelming.

Stan had been among them.

Bebe also recalled Stan showing up at her house right before last Christmas demanding she somehow fix things between him and Wendy. As if she had that kind of control over her best friend's love life. He had caught her at a bad time, Bebe had been watching an 80's movie marathon on cable and had been daydreaming if a boy showed up at her house with a boom box and a romantic song she'd probably melt into a puddle.

Just one boy, not the entire fourth grade class. No one would call Bebe a slut in this little mini fantasy of hers. Wendy tended to show her serious side publicly, only Bebe knew her best friend would also lapse into fantasy, especially when under pressure.

South Park's neighborhoods were small and Bebe didn't live too far away from Stan. As she turned down Bonanza Street, she was hit with a realization. If Stan had as much control over his best friend as he thought she did over Wendy, Kyle would've shown up to her house playing Peter Gabriel a long time ago. These days, Bebe found Kyle a bit on the annoying and arrogant side, even if Wendy had told her he made an excellent study partner. She wondered if Kyle had sucked at studying with Wendy, what sort of romantic confessions Bebe would hear over their lengthy phone conversations. Bebe and Wendy were pretty equal the amount of their crushes, but Bebe had to admit the guys who actually liked Wendy back were a much higher quality. They would look Wendy in the face when talking to her.

Bebe couldn't understand why Wendy was the jealous one.

She made it to the Marsh family home, almost in a huff. Stan was all over Wendy, and not just the contents of his stomach. But whenever Bebe was forced to be around Stan he was always so demanding. Who the hell did he think he was ordering her around like that? He treated her so shittily for the one day they were stuck working with each other, expecting her to do all the work. She didn't except to be treated like Wendy but he could have been a little bit more respectful. Why was she here? He seemed desperate but was she really his only option? But with everyone at the wedding what else did she have to do besides avoid talking to her mother? Bebe gritted her teeth as she rang the door bell. She'd play along with whatever he wanted but she'd lay down a few ground rules first. He needed her. She was doing this out of the kindness of her heart.

By this point she was ready to give him a piece of her mind but when the front door swung open any venomous words she had died away. Wendy's ex boyfriend looked so pathetic. His face was bruised and his arm in a sling. Bebe had seen all the explosions at the egg check ceremony but it wasn't just that. Bebe was already used to boys not looking her in the eye but Stan had his head down looking at the floor, in defeat.

"Stan, is everything okay?"

Stan sighed. "No."

He went towards her, Bebe holding her arms in front of herself unsure what he was trying to do. He grabbed the baby doll out of her hands, frowning at it as he opened the door wider to let her in.

"You needed a doll, right?"

"Doll clothes. You didn't have anything other than pink?"

"It was the best I could do on such short notice. What the hell is going on here?"

"Come in, I'll show you."

Bebe bit her lip as she cautiously entered Stan's very quiet house.