High School Sucks - 19
The science block of South Park High was one of the least decorative of the entire school. Where most subjects contained classrooms of colorful maps or informative posters, many of the science room's walls were bare save the often obligatory periodic table of the elements plastered on the walls. Despite the blandness of the building's looks, it was one of the best-financed areas of the school, and every classroom had above-average supplies and equipment that wasn't extremely outdated, as was the case in most schools around the state.
The geology department was no exception to this rule. Sturdy microscopes were stationed all along the perimeter of the room, and necessary items like magnifying glasses and heating burners were scattered around as well. The students within the classroom, however, were using none of the tools, instead listening to their teacher at the front of the class lecturing to them. Many of the students had laid their heads down in boredom or pulled out playing cards, and two had even begun playing with a magnetic chess set one of them had brought.
One student, however, made certain that each time the head of the class looked at his students, he was looking somewhat engaged. When the back was turned, however, Stan would begin playing games on his calculator, or talk with some of the attractive girls sitting nearby. He had kept telling himself that it was a dangerous habit to get into, and that if his dad found out he was liable to get in severe trouble, but he found it a difficult habit to break, particularly since he had escaped nearly unscathed in the three previous science classes he had taken.
"And there you have it, class. The complete breakdown of how limestone if formed." Mr. Marsh said in a strong voice, pointing to his badly drawn figures on the chalkboard. He checked his watch "Well, we still have a few minutes left. Does anyone have any questions?"
No one answered, and Mr. Marsh laughed. "All right, all right. Well, remember, every single damn thing I just said today will be on the test next Wednesday, so if you didn't get the notes down from it, at least be sure you copy them down from someone smarter than you."
His joke received a few laughs, but most of his students were glancing at the clock anxiously, ready for their brunch to begin. Mr. Marsh, realizing this, let out a little sigh. "All right, class, you're free for the four minutes we have left."
As if he had lifted some kind of curse, the twenty-one students immediately burst into a flurry of chatter, with boys leaping out of their seats to converse with their significant others. Stan put his calculator back in his backpack and sat back in his chair, hoping to use the time to relax. When he looked forward, however, he saw his father beckoning towards him. Stan groaned and got up from his seat, hoping that whatever his father had to say wouldn't be too embarrassing to anyone within earshot.
"Yeah, Dad?" He asked once he arrived at the front desk. His father was perched in his seat, sifting through some papers that looked weeks old.
"Oh, yes, Stanley, your mother called and said she had an errand that she wants you to run for her after school." Mr. Marsh said.
Stan stomped his foot. "Goddamn it, not another one. I'm getting really tired of this, Dad. This shit pisses me off."
"Hey. Language, Stanley. Watch it." Mr. Marsh said sternly.
"Dad, every teacher lets you say damn and shit." Stan replied quickly, hoping the conversation wouldn't turn into one about swearing. "Why can't you run to the grocery store or the post office or wherever the hell she needs something to be picked up? I have stuff to do after school, you know."
"You know exactly why. It doesn't look like the usual teachers aren't going to be coming back from their strike anytime soon, so I have to keep helping the fill-in teachers with their classes. Like Mr. Lane, the biology teacher next door? He's never taught anyone over ten years old." Mr. Marsh answered.
"So? That crazy old man's had two months to get used to it. I'm surprised he hasn't had a nervous breakdown yet." Stan shook his head. "Alright, alright, I'll do it. Where does she need me to go?"
"Not far. Just to go and get some milk at the supermarket. Oh, and she told me to give you this." Mr. Marsh pulled a small slip of paper out of his pocket and handed it to Stan. "This coupon will get you a two-for-one deal on a gallon of reduced fat milk. You know how touchy she is when it comes to that sort of thing."
Stan could hear a few giggles coming from the other students in the front row who could hear them, but he still took the slip. "All right, is there anything else?"
At that moment the bell rang, and the class vanished from the room in a matter of seconds. Mr. Marsh shook his head. "Nope, that's it from me. Have a good brunch, Stanley. I'll be in the teacher's lounge if you need me."
"Thanks." Stan turned around and headed out the door before his father could say anything else. Thinking of heading to his locker, Stan instead to see if he could find Kyle or of his other friends. Stan walked down the small concrete path until he arrived at the huge quad. The initial wave of kids had been quelled somewhat, and Stan was able to find a few people of note. His head turned to see Wendy coming towards him, and he sat down on a bench, ready for her.
Wendy sat down on the bench next to him, instantly leaning over to kiss him. Stan obliged, and Wendy giggled. "Hey, Stan. Boy, I just never get tired of doing that. It feels so good sometimes."
Stan sighed. "Right, Wendy. You tell me that just every time we kiss. I'd have thought the thrill would have worn off by now."
"No way." Wendy smiled. "So, Stan, we still going to get together Saturday night? I don't really feel like going to a party or anything. It's not like I have a costume or anything."
"Aww, I wanted to do something." Stan said. He shrugged afterward. "But it's not big deal. Maybe we can just stay at my house and watch bad horror movies or something, right? Hit Blockbuster and get some flicks to watch."
Wendy's eyes brightened. "Ooh, just the two of us? That'd be great! Wait, or will your parents be home too?" She asked.
"No, they're going out of town to Boulder for some party." Stan thought for a moment, than shook his furiously. "No, Wendy, we did it last weekend." He lowered his voice. "We can't go around fucking every weekend. If anyone like our parents finds out, we'll both be disowned."
Wendy smacked his arm playfully. "That's not what I was talking about, you idiot. I was just wondering if anyone would be crashing our little party."
Stan shook his head again. "No way...Unless maybe Kyle wants to stop by or something. Why, would you have a problem with that?"
"I don't know...I guess not. I'd really like to be just the two of us, even if we don't do anything." Wendy said quietly.
"H-Hey, guys. Were you two just talking about a party or s-something?" Both turned their heads to see Butters approaching and sit down next to them. "B-Because I'd love to go to a party. I've been to so many in the last couple of months, it's starting to make my head spin, but I'm loving it."
Stan laughed. "Awesome. You any drunk any more since the little ordeal at my house?"
"O-Oh, are you kidding? A-At least two or three times. I-I had this one drink where you mix chocolate milk with this stuff called Irish Creme, and it was r-really good. You ever had it?"
"No, I haven't." Stan said thoughtfully. "But it makes sense. I bet it's really good, though. Thanks for the idea, Butters."
"N-No problem. So there's going to be a party at your house tomorrow, Stan?"
Wendy glared at him. "No, Butters, it's just something we're doing together on Halloween night. Just the two of us. Are you doing anything then?"
Butters's face suddenly turned a slight shade of red. "W-Well, no, I ain't doing nothing on Halloween. Probably just sit around at home and lounge around. T-That is, unless I can find a party to go to." He said, sounding somewhat hopeful to Stan.
"Well, hope you have some luck, pal." Stan stood up and patted Butters on the back. "I'll be getting something to eat, Wendy. You want me to get you anything?"
"Just some orange juice. I didn't get a chance to eat any breakfast today. I was putting together an extra credit project for my physics. Thermodynamics can really take the wind out of you."
Stan laughed. "Why do you care so damn much about doing every single shred of work you can find? You know you're getting an easy A in every freaking class you're in. You're overworking yourself, girl."
"That's enough of that. You go and get your little snack now." Wendy closed her eyes and pushed Stan forward slightly. Stan got the message and walked away from the bench. He filed into one of the four lines, each of which had at least thirty people already packed in front. Stan, after waiting a couple of minutes, saw Kenny stumble into another line, and decided the lost minute was worth being able to converse with his friend.
"Hey, Kenny," Stan said, glancing over at Kenny. His friend looked better than he had during most of the school year, wearing a jacket that wasn't covered in dirt and for once having neatly-combed hair. Kenny turned around.
"Oh, hey, Stan. What's up, dude?" Kenny asked, straightening up. He cocked his head and began rummaging through his pants.
Stan shrugged. "Not much, man. How about you? You been up to anything lately? More acid trips or booze binges?"
"Not really. I've been kind of chilling the last couple of months. Cartman's Mom is getting sort of suspicious that I spend a lot of time back at my old house, so I'm trying to avoid it for a while, you know?"
Stan nodded. "Yeah, but the arrangement at his house is going pretty well, isn't it? Like you and Cartman getting along?"
"Yeah, sure thing. Funny thing is, I think Fatass is getting kind of jealous of me, with his mom having to spend so much time taking care of me. " Kenny grinned. "It's fucking sweet."
A slight breeze blew across Stan's head as he smiled. "Good deal. So you got any plans for tomorrow? Seems like everyone I've talked to has some incredible way to spend Halloween night."
"Not me. Right now I'm trying to get a crew together to do some...exploring Halloween night." Kenny grinned. "You think you'd be up to it?"
"Depends. What'd you have in mind?" Stan asked.
"Heh. You just got me going here. You remember that crazy geneticist, Mephesto? You know, the guy who was obsessed with adding asses on normal animals and turning them into freaks?" Kenny asked.
Stan nodded. "Yeah, what about him? He died, like, six years ago in that huge explosion at his ranch."
"Yeah, I heard he had just put eighteen asses on a monkey, and it farted, causing the whole place to blow up. But you know how they never did anything else with that lab of his, right?" Kenny grinned.
"Oh, no." Stan groaned. "Don't tell me that you believe in that crazy ghost story that the people in town have been spreading around. Even my Uncle Jimbo believes in that shit now."
Kenny shook his head. "Hey, it might not be as crazy as you think. Remember, I think the Bible said that souls who have unfinished business stay on this Earth until they complete their tasks."
Stan placed a shoulder on Kenny's shoulder. "Kenny, I hate to break it to you, but you stopped believing in the Bible a hell of a long time ago."
"Jesus Christ, what the fuck are you guys talking about?" The person in front of Stan and Kenny turned around, revealing himself to be Craig. "I heard Mephesto, monkeys with eighteen asses and the Bible. Explain."
"Oh, Craig," Kenny started. "If you ain't doing anything on Halloween night, you want to go to that old genetic ranch with me and a couple of other guys? We want to find out if the legend is true."
Craig flipped Kenny off. "What the fuck are you talking about? I've never heard of a legend about that place."
"Good, because it's total crap." Stan muttered. "And don't listen to Kenny here. He's full of shit."
Kenny ignored the statement. "Well, Mephesto died six years ago, not just in his lab, but on Halloween night. Legend has it that every Halloween he returns to what's left of his ranch to continue his research of adding asses to the ghosts of animals. I'm sick of hearing all the talk, and want to find out for myself." He rubbed his hands together eagerly. "So, how about it, Craig? You want to join my little crew?"
Craig shrugged. "Depends. Who else you got in?"
"I'm not positive yet, but it could include anyone. I know that Pip's in, so Timmy might tag along, but anyone else might come too. Cartman, Token, Jennifer, Tweek, you name it. I'm a popular dude." Kenny grinned.
"Well, I ain't doing anything yet, so why not?" Craig asked himself. "Sure, I'm in. But we better find something, or I'm gonna kick your ass, dude."
Kenny laughed. "I'd like to see you try, tubby."
Craig flinched with anger, but managed to keep it under control. "Whatever you say, bastard. Well, what do you think we'll find? Mephesto's ghost or some crazy shit like that?"
"Oh my god, you guys are pathetic!" Stan cried. "There are no such things as ghosts, and you both are total idiots if you think there are."
Kenny and Craig grinned at each other. "Well, if you're so sure, why don't you join us on our little crusade?" Kenny asked.
"No, because unlike the two of you, I'll be doing something productive. And before you cunts ask, I'm going to get together with Wendy and watch some old horror movies."
"Ooh, sounds like fun." Craig grinned. "You guys going to fuck after, or what? That'd be the real show of the night."
"Fuck you." Stan said. "Hey, Craig, turn around, bastard. You're next in line." He pointed to the window, which was now right in front of them.
"Huh?" Craig turned around before realizing that Stan had been right. "Oh, right, thanks." He leaned onto the counter so that the young girl on the other side would be able to hear his order. "Just get me a glazed doughnut." He said, slamming a single dollar bill onto the counter.
"Sure thing." The girl on the other side smiled, her braces glinting off the window slightly. She turned around and only had to take two steps before she was able to reach the doughnuts. She grabbed one of them and wrapped it up, putting it on the counter. "That'll be a buck, Craig."
"No problem, Teresa." Craig slid the dollar bill forward, where Teresa was able to take it and put it into the cash register. Craig lifted the doughnut up and took a big bite out of it before moving out of line. "See you at lunch, bastards." He sputtered as he walked back towards the quad.
Kenny shook his head. "God, that guy can be a prick sometimes. Still, I guess he'll make for interesting conversation on the journey." Kenny sauntered up to the front of the line. "Hey, babe." He grinned, resting his elbow on the table.
Teresa giggled. "Hey, Kenny. How you doing today?"
"Not bad, not bad. Listen, I really need something like a bagel to munch on, but I'm kind of short on cash. You think you could..." He narrowed his eyes at the girl, hoping that he'd be able to convince her to help.
"No problem, Kenny. I can just add it to your little...bill, right?" She laughed and tossed a regular bagel on the table. "Enjoy it, it's on the house." She said.
Kenny grinned. "Thanks, Teresa. Hey, it's Friday. Maybe tonight the two of us can get together at my old house or something?"
"Hey, maybe. You have my number, right?"
"Yeah. Well, my friend's getting hungry, so I'll talk to you later, alright?" Kenny didn't wait for an answer and exited to the end of the line. Stan stepped up, ready to place his order.
"What can I get you, Stan?" Teresa inquired.
"Just toss me two orange juices." Stan laid out two quarters on the table carefully, making sure that he had the correct change.
"Thirsty today?" Teresa asked, grabbing two cartons of juice and handing them to Stan, snatching up the two quarters.
"One's for me and one's for Wendy." Stan answered. "Don't worry, I'm not pigging out on the OJ here."
"Aw, the romantic thing to do is to get two straws and share just one with you little love." Teresa grinned.
"Quiet, you." Stan took the packets and walked out of the line. "Talk to you later, alright?" After exiting from the lunch lines, he headed back to the bench he had come from. Joining Wendy and Butters now was Cartman, who had taken a seat next to Wendy.
"Oh, uh...Hey, Cartman." Stan said, sitting down on the other side of Wendy and having one of the packets of orange juice to her. "Here you go."
"Thanks, Stan!" Wendy chirped, breaking the seal and gulping down about half of the container. "Cartman and I were just talking about what we're both going to do tomorrow night."
"Y-Yeah, Cartman said he's going on a c-crazy ghost hunt!" Butters added.
"Not again." Stan sighed. "Look, I already heard from Kenny how you're going back to that crazy scientist's genetic ranch to see if his ghost is there, alright? I really don't need to hear the shit again."
Cartman burrowed his eyes. "I didn't say for sure if I was in that, dick-licker. I might just join you two lovebirds on your little horror festival of bad movies. Wouldn't you love that, Stan?"
Stan flinched. "Yeah, right. I'd rather let the two of you get cozy together than have to sit with the two of you through three or four movies."
Wendy began laughing hysterically. "Oh, Stan, you always think of such funny things to say!" She finished her orange juice and tossed it into a nearby garbage can. "Anyway, I'm sure you'll all be happy to know that I just checked with all my teachers, and I'll be getting a nice 4.16 for the end of the quarter."
"W-Well, why does that matter? T-The quarter grades aren't going to go on our final transcripts, are they?" Butters asked worriedly.
"No, and thank God for that. I'm barely passing most of my classes." Cartman said, leaning back onto a tree behind him.
"Yeah, same here. I ain't doing so hot, Wendy. I might have to hit a junior college after I graduate." Stan said.
"Oh, don't talk like that." Wendy hissed. "Once you put enough effort into it, the As will start flying your way. You just have to get over this last year, and everything will be in the clear. Trust me, babe." She smiled.
Stan shrugged. "No argument there." Just then the bell rang and the student body began moving to their third period class. Wendy stood up.
"Well, I'll see you guys later. My next class is way on the other side of the school, so I have to get walking right now."
"Hold on a second, Wendy." Cartman stood as well. "My class is way over there. How about I walk with you?" He pulled his backpack up show his sincerity.
Wendy thought for a second, then shrugged. "I don't see why not. See you later, Stan." She waved goodbye as she and Cartman joined the wave of students heading off in the opposite direction.
Stan stood unmoving for a second, unsure by what had just happened. He turned around to see Butters just getting up. "Hey, Butters," Stan said. "Did it seem like Cartman was trying to...get in close with Wendy there?" His voice quieted as the sentence went on.
Butters shrugged. "W-Well, I don't know. H-He did seem kind of eager to be with her, I suppose."
A sweat drop formed on Stan's forehead. "Great, now I have to keep an eye out for fatass. Then again, what chance is there of Wendy dumping me for him? Like I'm sure Cartman can do anything at all that I can't." Stan laughed. "Don't worry about it, Butters. I'm sure there's nothing to worry about at all.
Stan walked away, head held up high. Butters scratched his head, confused. He then looked back up at Stan, who was now staring at the ground in front of him as he walked along.
"Who says I'm worried?" He asked himself. With a shrug, he stood up, stretched, and walked off to his next class.
The science block of South Park High was one of the least decorative of the entire school. Where most subjects contained classrooms of colorful maps or informative posters, many of the science room's walls were bare save the often obligatory periodic table of the elements plastered on the walls. Despite the blandness of the building's looks, it was one of the best-financed areas of the school, and every classroom had above-average supplies and equipment that wasn't extremely outdated, as was the case in most schools around the state.
The geology department was no exception to this rule. Sturdy microscopes were stationed all along the perimeter of the room, and necessary items like magnifying glasses and heating burners were scattered around as well. The students within the classroom, however, were using none of the tools, instead listening to their teacher at the front of the class lecturing to them. Many of the students had laid their heads down in boredom or pulled out playing cards, and two had even begun playing with a magnetic chess set one of them had brought.
One student, however, made certain that each time the head of the class looked at his students, he was looking somewhat engaged. When the back was turned, however, Stan would begin playing games on his calculator, or talk with some of the attractive girls sitting nearby. He had kept telling himself that it was a dangerous habit to get into, and that if his dad found out he was liable to get in severe trouble, but he found it a difficult habit to break, particularly since he had escaped nearly unscathed in the three previous science classes he had taken.
"And there you have it, class. The complete breakdown of how limestone if formed." Mr. Marsh said in a strong voice, pointing to his badly drawn figures on the chalkboard. He checked his watch "Well, we still have a few minutes left. Does anyone have any questions?"
No one answered, and Mr. Marsh laughed. "All right, all right. Well, remember, every single damn thing I just said today will be on the test next Wednesday, so if you didn't get the notes down from it, at least be sure you copy them down from someone smarter than you."
His joke received a few laughs, but most of his students were glancing at the clock anxiously, ready for their brunch to begin. Mr. Marsh, realizing this, let out a little sigh. "All right, class, you're free for the four minutes we have left."
As if he had lifted some kind of curse, the twenty-one students immediately burst into a flurry of chatter, with boys leaping out of their seats to converse with their significant others. Stan put his calculator back in his backpack and sat back in his chair, hoping to use the time to relax. When he looked forward, however, he saw his father beckoning towards him. Stan groaned and got up from his seat, hoping that whatever his father had to say wouldn't be too embarrassing to anyone within earshot.
"Yeah, Dad?" He asked once he arrived at the front desk. His father was perched in his seat, sifting through some papers that looked weeks old.
"Oh, yes, Stanley, your mother called and said she had an errand that she wants you to run for her after school." Mr. Marsh said.
Stan stomped his foot. "Goddamn it, not another one. I'm getting really tired of this, Dad. This shit pisses me off."
"Hey. Language, Stanley. Watch it." Mr. Marsh said sternly.
"Dad, every teacher lets you say damn and shit." Stan replied quickly, hoping the conversation wouldn't turn into one about swearing. "Why can't you run to the grocery store or the post office or wherever the hell she needs something to be picked up? I have stuff to do after school, you know."
"You know exactly why. It doesn't look like the usual teachers aren't going to be coming back from their strike anytime soon, so I have to keep helping the fill-in teachers with their classes. Like Mr. Lane, the biology teacher next door? He's never taught anyone over ten years old." Mr. Marsh answered.
"So? That crazy old man's had two months to get used to it. I'm surprised he hasn't had a nervous breakdown yet." Stan shook his head. "Alright, alright, I'll do it. Where does she need me to go?"
"Not far. Just to go and get some milk at the supermarket. Oh, and she told me to give you this." Mr. Marsh pulled a small slip of paper out of his pocket and handed it to Stan. "This coupon will get you a two-for-one deal on a gallon of reduced fat milk. You know how touchy she is when it comes to that sort of thing."
Stan could hear a few giggles coming from the other students in the front row who could hear them, but he still took the slip. "All right, is there anything else?"
At that moment the bell rang, and the class vanished from the room in a matter of seconds. Mr. Marsh shook his head. "Nope, that's it from me. Have a good brunch, Stanley. I'll be in the teacher's lounge if you need me."
"Thanks." Stan turned around and headed out the door before his father could say anything else. Thinking of heading to his locker, Stan instead to see if he could find Kyle or of his other friends. Stan walked down the small concrete path until he arrived at the huge quad. The initial wave of kids had been quelled somewhat, and Stan was able to find a few people of note. His head turned to see Wendy coming towards him, and he sat down on a bench, ready for her.
Wendy sat down on the bench next to him, instantly leaning over to kiss him. Stan obliged, and Wendy giggled. "Hey, Stan. Boy, I just never get tired of doing that. It feels so good sometimes."
Stan sighed. "Right, Wendy. You tell me that just every time we kiss. I'd have thought the thrill would have worn off by now."
"No way." Wendy smiled. "So, Stan, we still going to get together Saturday night? I don't really feel like going to a party or anything. It's not like I have a costume or anything."
"Aww, I wanted to do something." Stan said. He shrugged afterward. "But it's not big deal. Maybe we can just stay at my house and watch bad horror movies or something, right? Hit Blockbuster and get some flicks to watch."
Wendy's eyes brightened. "Ooh, just the two of us? That'd be great! Wait, or will your parents be home too?" She asked.
"No, they're going out of town to Boulder for some party." Stan thought for a moment, than shook his furiously. "No, Wendy, we did it last weekend." He lowered his voice. "We can't go around fucking every weekend. If anyone like our parents finds out, we'll both be disowned."
Wendy smacked his arm playfully. "That's not what I was talking about, you idiot. I was just wondering if anyone would be crashing our little party."
Stan shook his head again. "No way...Unless maybe Kyle wants to stop by or something. Why, would you have a problem with that?"
"I don't know...I guess not. I'd really like to be just the two of us, even if we don't do anything." Wendy said quietly.
"H-Hey, guys. Were you two just talking about a party or s-something?" Both turned their heads to see Butters approaching and sit down next to them. "B-Because I'd love to go to a party. I've been to so many in the last couple of months, it's starting to make my head spin, but I'm loving it."
Stan laughed. "Awesome. You any drunk any more since the little ordeal at my house?"
"O-Oh, are you kidding? A-At least two or three times. I-I had this one drink where you mix chocolate milk with this stuff called Irish Creme, and it was r-really good. You ever had it?"
"No, I haven't." Stan said thoughtfully. "But it makes sense. I bet it's really good, though. Thanks for the idea, Butters."
"N-No problem. So there's going to be a party at your house tomorrow, Stan?"
Wendy glared at him. "No, Butters, it's just something we're doing together on Halloween night. Just the two of us. Are you doing anything then?"
Butters's face suddenly turned a slight shade of red. "W-Well, no, I ain't doing nothing on Halloween. Probably just sit around at home and lounge around. T-That is, unless I can find a party to go to." He said, sounding somewhat hopeful to Stan.
"Well, hope you have some luck, pal." Stan stood up and patted Butters on the back. "I'll be getting something to eat, Wendy. You want me to get you anything?"
"Just some orange juice. I didn't get a chance to eat any breakfast today. I was putting together an extra credit project for my physics. Thermodynamics can really take the wind out of you."
Stan laughed. "Why do you care so damn much about doing every single shred of work you can find? You know you're getting an easy A in every freaking class you're in. You're overworking yourself, girl."
"That's enough of that. You go and get your little snack now." Wendy closed her eyes and pushed Stan forward slightly. Stan got the message and walked away from the bench. He filed into one of the four lines, each of which had at least thirty people already packed in front. Stan, after waiting a couple of minutes, saw Kenny stumble into another line, and decided the lost minute was worth being able to converse with his friend.
"Hey, Kenny," Stan said, glancing over at Kenny. His friend looked better than he had during most of the school year, wearing a jacket that wasn't covered in dirt and for once having neatly-combed hair. Kenny turned around.
"Oh, hey, Stan. What's up, dude?" Kenny asked, straightening up. He cocked his head and began rummaging through his pants.
Stan shrugged. "Not much, man. How about you? You been up to anything lately? More acid trips or booze binges?"
"Not really. I've been kind of chilling the last couple of months. Cartman's Mom is getting sort of suspicious that I spend a lot of time back at my old house, so I'm trying to avoid it for a while, you know?"
Stan nodded. "Yeah, but the arrangement at his house is going pretty well, isn't it? Like you and Cartman getting along?"
"Yeah, sure thing. Funny thing is, I think Fatass is getting kind of jealous of me, with his mom having to spend so much time taking care of me. " Kenny grinned. "It's fucking sweet."
A slight breeze blew across Stan's head as he smiled. "Good deal. So you got any plans for tomorrow? Seems like everyone I've talked to has some incredible way to spend Halloween night."
"Not me. Right now I'm trying to get a crew together to do some...exploring Halloween night." Kenny grinned. "You think you'd be up to it?"
"Depends. What'd you have in mind?" Stan asked.
"Heh. You just got me going here. You remember that crazy geneticist, Mephesto? You know, the guy who was obsessed with adding asses on normal animals and turning them into freaks?" Kenny asked.
Stan nodded. "Yeah, what about him? He died, like, six years ago in that huge explosion at his ranch."
"Yeah, I heard he had just put eighteen asses on a monkey, and it farted, causing the whole place to blow up. But you know how they never did anything else with that lab of his, right?" Kenny grinned.
"Oh, no." Stan groaned. "Don't tell me that you believe in that crazy ghost story that the people in town have been spreading around. Even my Uncle Jimbo believes in that shit now."
Kenny shook his head. "Hey, it might not be as crazy as you think. Remember, I think the Bible said that souls who have unfinished business stay on this Earth until they complete their tasks."
Stan placed a shoulder on Kenny's shoulder. "Kenny, I hate to break it to you, but you stopped believing in the Bible a hell of a long time ago."
"Jesus Christ, what the fuck are you guys talking about?" The person in front of Stan and Kenny turned around, revealing himself to be Craig. "I heard Mephesto, monkeys with eighteen asses and the Bible. Explain."
"Oh, Craig," Kenny started. "If you ain't doing anything on Halloween night, you want to go to that old genetic ranch with me and a couple of other guys? We want to find out if the legend is true."
Craig flipped Kenny off. "What the fuck are you talking about? I've never heard of a legend about that place."
"Good, because it's total crap." Stan muttered. "And don't listen to Kenny here. He's full of shit."
Kenny ignored the statement. "Well, Mephesto died six years ago, not just in his lab, but on Halloween night. Legend has it that every Halloween he returns to what's left of his ranch to continue his research of adding asses to the ghosts of animals. I'm sick of hearing all the talk, and want to find out for myself." He rubbed his hands together eagerly. "So, how about it, Craig? You want to join my little crew?"
Craig shrugged. "Depends. Who else you got in?"
"I'm not positive yet, but it could include anyone. I know that Pip's in, so Timmy might tag along, but anyone else might come too. Cartman, Token, Jennifer, Tweek, you name it. I'm a popular dude." Kenny grinned.
"Well, I ain't doing anything yet, so why not?" Craig asked himself. "Sure, I'm in. But we better find something, or I'm gonna kick your ass, dude."
Kenny laughed. "I'd like to see you try, tubby."
Craig flinched with anger, but managed to keep it under control. "Whatever you say, bastard. Well, what do you think we'll find? Mephesto's ghost or some crazy shit like that?"
"Oh my god, you guys are pathetic!" Stan cried. "There are no such things as ghosts, and you both are total idiots if you think there are."
Kenny and Craig grinned at each other. "Well, if you're so sure, why don't you join us on our little crusade?" Kenny asked.
"No, because unlike the two of you, I'll be doing something productive. And before you cunts ask, I'm going to get together with Wendy and watch some old horror movies."
"Ooh, sounds like fun." Craig grinned. "You guys going to fuck after, or what? That'd be the real show of the night."
"Fuck you." Stan said. "Hey, Craig, turn around, bastard. You're next in line." He pointed to the window, which was now right in front of them.
"Huh?" Craig turned around before realizing that Stan had been right. "Oh, right, thanks." He leaned onto the counter so that the young girl on the other side would be able to hear his order. "Just get me a glazed doughnut." He said, slamming a single dollar bill onto the counter.
"Sure thing." The girl on the other side smiled, her braces glinting off the window slightly. She turned around and only had to take two steps before she was able to reach the doughnuts. She grabbed one of them and wrapped it up, putting it on the counter. "That'll be a buck, Craig."
"No problem, Teresa." Craig slid the dollar bill forward, where Teresa was able to take it and put it into the cash register. Craig lifted the doughnut up and took a big bite out of it before moving out of line. "See you at lunch, bastards." He sputtered as he walked back towards the quad.
Kenny shook his head. "God, that guy can be a prick sometimes. Still, I guess he'll make for interesting conversation on the journey." Kenny sauntered up to the front of the line. "Hey, babe." He grinned, resting his elbow on the table.
Teresa giggled. "Hey, Kenny. How you doing today?"
"Not bad, not bad. Listen, I really need something like a bagel to munch on, but I'm kind of short on cash. You think you could..." He narrowed his eyes at the girl, hoping that he'd be able to convince her to help.
"No problem, Kenny. I can just add it to your little...bill, right?" She laughed and tossed a regular bagel on the table. "Enjoy it, it's on the house." She said.
Kenny grinned. "Thanks, Teresa. Hey, it's Friday. Maybe tonight the two of us can get together at my old house or something?"
"Hey, maybe. You have my number, right?"
"Yeah. Well, my friend's getting hungry, so I'll talk to you later, alright?" Kenny didn't wait for an answer and exited to the end of the line. Stan stepped up, ready to place his order.
"What can I get you, Stan?" Teresa inquired.
"Just toss me two orange juices." Stan laid out two quarters on the table carefully, making sure that he had the correct change.
"Thirsty today?" Teresa asked, grabbing two cartons of juice and handing them to Stan, snatching up the two quarters.
"One's for me and one's for Wendy." Stan answered. "Don't worry, I'm not pigging out on the OJ here."
"Aw, the romantic thing to do is to get two straws and share just one with you little love." Teresa grinned.
"Quiet, you." Stan took the packets and walked out of the line. "Talk to you later, alright?" After exiting from the lunch lines, he headed back to the bench he had come from. Joining Wendy and Butters now was Cartman, who had taken a seat next to Wendy.
"Oh, uh...Hey, Cartman." Stan said, sitting down on the other side of Wendy and having one of the packets of orange juice to her. "Here you go."
"Thanks, Stan!" Wendy chirped, breaking the seal and gulping down about half of the container. "Cartman and I were just talking about what we're both going to do tomorrow night."
"Y-Yeah, Cartman said he's going on a c-crazy ghost hunt!" Butters added.
"Not again." Stan sighed. "Look, I already heard from Kenny how you're going back to that crazy scientist's genetic ranch to see if his ghost is there, alright? I really don't need to hear the shit again."
Cartman burrowed his eyes. "I didn't say for sure if I was in that, dick-licker. I might just join you two lovebirds on your little horror festival of bad movies. Wouldn't you love that, Stan?"
Stan flinched. "Yeah, right. I'd rather let the two of you get cozy together than have to sit with the two of you through three or four movies."
Wendy began laughing hysterically. "Oh, Stan, you always think of such funny things to say!" She finished her orange juice and tossed it into a nearby garbage can. "Anyway, I'm sure you'll all be happy to know that I just checked with all my teachers, and I'll be getting a nice 4.16 for the end of the quarter."
"W-Well, why does that matter? T-The quarter grades aren't going to go on our final transcripts, are they?" Butters asked worriedly.
"No, and thank God for that. I'm barely passing most of my classes." Cartman said, leaning back onto a tree behind him.
"Yeah, same here. I ain't doing so hot, Wendy. I might have to hit a junior college after I graduate." Stan said.
"Oh, don't talk like that." Wendy hissed. "Once you put enough effort into it, the As will start flying your way. You just have to get over this last year, and everything will be in the clear. Trust me, babe." She smiled.
Stan shrugged. "No argument there." Just then the bell rang and the student body began moving to their third period class. Wendy stood up.
"Well, I'll see you guys later. My next class is way on the other side of the school, so I have to get walking right now."
"Hold on a second, Wendy." Cartman stood as well. "My class is way over there. How about I walk with you?" He pulled his backpack up show his sincerity.
Wendy thought for a second, then shrugged. "I don't see why not. See you later, Stan." She waved goodbye as she and Cartman joined the wave of students heading off in the opposite direction.
Stan stood unmoving for a second, unsure by what had just happened. He turned around to see Butters just getting up. "Hey, Butters," Stan said. "Did it seem like Cartman was trying to...get in close with Wendy there?" His voice quieted as the sentence went on.
Butters shrugged. "W-Well, I don't know. H-He did seem kind of eager to be with her, I suppose."
A sweat drop formed on Stan's forehead. "Great, now I have to keep an eye out for fatass. Then again, what chance is there of Wendy dumping me for him? Like I'm sure Cartman can do anything at all that I can't." Stan laughed. "Don't worry about it, Butters. I'm sure there's nothing to worry about at all.
Stan walked away, head held up high. Butters scratched his head, confused. He then looked back up at Stan, who was now staring at the ground in front of him as he walked along.
"Who says I'm worried?" He asked himself. With a shrug, he stood up, stretched, and walked off to his next class.