Category: South Park
Authors: John-SP150 as Kenny and NoseBridgePinch as Stan
Fan Art: John-SP150
Rated T for swearing, violence, perversion on Kenny's part and underage drinking on Stan's part.
Synopsis: The Marsh family is having a reunion for the holiday. Stan's realitives are causing him a great deal of worry. In additon to dealing with his parents, sister, grandfather, Uncle Jimbo and Ned, Stan must also deal with his Uncle Dean, Aunt Joanne and cousin Stephanie. Hopefully Kenny can help ease things, right?
Announcement: After a bout of crippling cynicism from John (see Stan in You're Getting Old) and a crippling bout of depression from me (see Kyle in Cartmanland) We're going to pick up working on the last chapter tomorrow if all goes as planned. We had quite a bit done already, unsure if it'll be posted to FanFiction.net but will definitely be posted here.
"Kenny, you're a real sick bastard." Stan said with a glare, then stopped for a moment, "...maybe that's why my family likes you so much." he sighed.
"Probably. I think that's what your uncle called me that time we went out camping and that volcano went off and destroyed half of Denver." Kenny said, "Or maybe he said I was a little bastard? Something with the word "bastard" in it. I hear that word a lot, you know."
"You do?" Stan said. Kenny shook his head; he'd never get it, would he?
"Of course, more from Kyle than you." Kenny mumbled under his breath.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Stan asked.
"Nothing." Kenny made a show of slurping the rest of his milk and got up to look into the pantry to see what other kinds of cereal the Marsh family had. Sharon smiled at them as she exited the kitchen, Shelly and Stephanie entering. Shelly scowled at all of them as she poured herself some orange juice and headed to the TV room to turn on the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade. Her hair was frazzled and she had a giant retainer still in her mouth from sleep but Kenny looked past all that to notice something else - she wasn't wearing a bra. He forgot about cereal sampling and followed her to the living room leaving Stan and Stephanie alone.
Stan was still pondering what made Kenny so sensitive to the word "bastard" when they ripped on each other all the time. Shouldn't he get angrier at being called poor? He was about to ask when he looked up to see Stephanie had taken a seat across from him. "You want some cereal?" She narrowed her eyes at him but said nothing; she looked him over, like she was trying to figure something out. Awkward. "There's uh... more milk in the fridge?"
She continued to stare him down. He opened his mouth to try and make small talk again when she pulled the thick book out and slammed it down in front of her, like a wall between them. Stan pushed his cereal bowl aside and yanked down her book to get her to look at him again. "What the hell is your problem, Stephanie? Did you hear something about me?"
"You really want to know what my problem with you is, dear, dear cousin?" she spat, that last address to him almost vicious. Stephanie meant business - she wasn't just screwing with his mind like Cartman might; she hated him, for whatever reason, but she meant it.
"Yes, now tell me what the hell the issue is!"
"Okay, fine." she inhaled deeply, then exhaled, "You are a terrible person. Every adult thinks you're so special and such a unique, thoughtful person but you're not. You're just a whiny, cynical little snotrag and yet somehow, you've fooled everyone into thinking you're Mr. Intelligent. And the worst thing about is you're not even special at all - you have no talent or character, you're just a dumb everyman. You're a mediocre athlete, you're a pussy animal lover who can't shoot but can eat a burger. Worst of all, you're an attention whore, making up stupid stories about seeing shit everywhere! And top it all off, you're totally negative and can't see the good in anyone or anything. Frankly, you're a know-it-all douchebag."
Stan let go of her book and it popped back up. Damn, he shouldn't have asked. Who was she, judging him like that? He took a deep breath exhaling through his nose. He could be cool about this. "Did Shelly tell you all this?" He and Kenny had a pretty interesting talk before they fell asleep, did she get all this from spending the night in Shelly's room?
"No, from my parents. Please leave me alone."
"Wait, Aunt Joanne and Uncle Dean have been super cool to me since they got here. Did they tell you all that?"
"Of course they've been super cool to you, you're their only nephew. They think you're wonderful." She got up and walked out on to the back porch.
"Wait, don't go out there, its freezing cold."
"Don't you get it, Stanley? I just don't want to be around you. I'm the only one who can see things for what they are around here."
With that she slammed the glass door shut, walking out into the snowy yard. Stan sat stunned. His mom wanted him to get along with her family but he had to get her back somehow. She wasn't much bigger than him and didn't seem as freakishly strong as Shelly, but he couldn't hit a girl. Wait, she was around the same age as him. her last words seemed oddly familiar.
Sharon walked back into the kitchen to grab some more coffee. "What happened to Stephanie? You kids should come watch the parade."
"She wanted some fresh air I think. Mom, just how old is my cousin?"
"Well I had you in October, Stanley. I think Joanne had her about a month after. She's probably going to have her tenth birthday soon. I can't recall the exact date." Stan's suspicions were true - he screamed Stephanie's words in a movie theatre almost a month ago causing his friends to abandon him. Stephanie was a cynic, she had to be! Stan got up to watch her through the back door. She was shivering and trying to read standing up. He was used to things happening to him and not being believed, and he wouldn't be like his asshole friends and give up on her when she was a bummer. He'd include her, no matter how shitty she found things. He'd let her in on the cure.
Her problem however was he was one of the things she saw as shitty. He'd have to do some careful maneuvering to make sure she was still included. "Hey, Mom I think you should go out there and get her, she probably doesn't want to miss the parade."
"You're such a caring boy, Stanley. Go on and watch the parade in the living room with your sister and Kenny." Oh Christ, he'd almost forgotten about that. He threw his and Kenny's bowls in the sink and hurried into the living room.
Kenny was sitting next to Shelly close to the television, and rather than the Macy's Day Thanksgiving Parade they'd switched over to something else, "I dunno, I've only seen Friends once or twice, dude, isn't it the one with the three guys, and the three girls, and one of them is Jennifer Aniston?"
"Thatsh the one!" Shelly grinned, "Itsh one of my favorite showsh. Buffy, Friendsh and Russhell Crowe. Itsh like the a trio of aweshomenesh. If shomebody could mixsh all three showsh into one, I'd jusht freakin' die of happinesh." she clapped with joy.
Stan observed his sister lean over and Kenny attempting to sneak a peek down her sleep top. He face palmed as he quickly went to the couch and squeezed in between them. "I don't think Kenny cares to watch your Friends DVDs with you."
Kenny leaned into the tv enthusiastically. "I don't mind, dude, Jennifer Aniston was pretty hot back then!"
"But I wanna watch the lame ass parade?" Stan said weakly.
Kenny ignored Stan and talked over his head to Shelly. "You know, Shelly, you kinda look like Jennifer Aniston."
"Dude shut the fuck up and put the stupid parade on." Stan smacked Kenny on the head lightly when he immediately felt several hard smacks on the top of his head.
"Ow, ow, ow." He quickly got off the couch to switch the TV channel, and also to get out of hitting range from his bitch sister.
"Kenny can hang out with me if he wants, turd!"
"Kenny can I talk to you?" Stan rubbed his head as he pulled Kenny away towards the stairs. "Dude what the fuck Kenny! You can't be serious! She's my gross, bitchy sister! Besides she hits really hard!" Suddenly Stan was struck with an idea.
"No way, dude, if you ignore the fugly braces, she's pretty hot." Kenny said with a quick nod, "I mean, she's already growing boobs and everything. I bet she's gonna look like your mom when she gets older. Is she over that Larry kid yet?" Kenny clearly didn't even seem to have heard what Stan said.
"The weird vegan kid? Weren't they dating? Brad Dixon told Butters they were." Kenny said. "Come on, Stan, you had to remember Larry. Maybe if you took more of an interest in your sister's love problems you'd get along better."
"No, you'd just hit on anything female with a pulse. Just a question, what's with the older chicks thing? Why not go after a girl in our class?"
"Uh, Stan, bro, come on, you're smart, you can figure it out, can't you?" Kenny crossed his arms, "Older girls have BOOBS. The only girls in our class with boobs are your girlfriend and Bebe Stevens, and Clyde's dating her, and Bro Code means I can't even sit by Wendy. I mean, don't get me wrong, the girls in our class are hot in their own ways and all that shit, but if I had to pick between an older chick with a good rack and a girl my age, you know where I'd go."
"If you're going on about bro code I think there should be a big rule about sisters, moms and other female family members!"
"You know in Harry Potter, Harry totally bangs his best friend's sister and stuff. So after that, the Bro Code was revised to remove that rule." Kenny stuck his tongue out triumphantly.
"That's fucked up dude. You and Kyle really need to give The Bubble Gum Prince a try. It's just pure adventure, none of that weird shit."
"I think the guy who wrote that killed himself. God, is it just me or does every writer have low self-esteem? I swear it's like all they do is write their shitty stories and fill them with all sorts of self-deprecating humor." Kenny looked forward for a moment.
"At least a guy wrote the Bubble Gum Prince! I don't understand when girls write stories about boys especially the teen years. They don't really know how guys act. If a guy wrote Harry Potter, Ron would have a serious problem with his best friend dating his sister! Stay away from mine, asshole!" Stan glared at Kenny. If Thanksgiving was going to be this bad, maybe he should spend Hanukah with Kyle before they settled in for a Christmas adventure.
"Dude, I don't even read those faggy Harry Potter books, Kyle's the one that reads them. I think Cartman read the last one just to spoil it for Kyle." Kenny noted, "And I'm not staying away from your sister. She's not defenseless - if she wants me to go away, she'll get rid of me. I can take a punch, unlike you." Line crossed.
"I'm not sure where exactly I started getting the pussy label but I could kick your ass. I just chose not to."
Stephanie passed the boys on the stairs. "You are so lame, Stanley."
"Hey, you like to read, Stephanie. You ever read The Bubble Gum Prince?"
"I did, I found it stupid, boring and I could predict the ending half way through. It was just not very clever and I'd rather focus my time reading something good, you know? I understand why a person like you would enjoy it though. Also Kenny could totally kick your ass."
"He could kick your ass and he should. I have no clue how you can even keep friends with someone as needy and codependent as you." Stephanie shouted the last bit as she walked up stairs.
"Your cousin wants me, dude."
"Kenny..." Stan sighed, rolling the option over in his mind. "You know it would be the lesser of two evils. Why don't you try to talk to her seeing as my entire family hates me?"
"Your entire family does not hate you Stan, your Aunt really, really, really likes you and your Uncle seems to be as normal as your mom."
"Hey, you're right, go try to talk to Stephanie, not Shelly. I'll try to ask Uncle Dean for advice."
"Hmm... I'll do it. For five bucks." Kenny held out his hand. Stan sighed and forked over three dollars, because he wasn't blowing all his money on his cousin. "Cheapskate. All right fine, I'll take care of it. You go talk to your Uncle Dean." Kenny nodded, going up the stairs to work his magic. Stan sighed and went to go see his Uncle when he heard his phone ring and answered it,
"Hey, dude, it's Kyle. Where the hell are you? Marvin's only here for a few days and so far I'm the only one who's been spending any time with him. And where's Kenny? I tried to call his family but his mom just started going off about how much of an asshole Kenny's dad is and how she should've married some other guy instead. I know where Cartman is, I'd rather not have him around right now."
"Yeah fighting's in Kenny's blood. Well physical fighting anyway. You think I could take Kenny in a fight, right dude?"
"Um why do you ask?"
"Just be honest, Kyle."
"I don't know, Kenny's kinda scrappy and ruthless, like he'd be kind of a dirty fighter. You are soft however."
"Soft? What the hell does that mean? Do you think you could take Kenny?"
"Oh yeah I could kick Kenny's ass."
"But we're evenly matched!"
Kyle laughed."Why do you even ask, dude?"
"Kenny invited himself to spend Thanksgiving with my family and he's driving me crazy. He won't stop hitting on my sister."
"Oh wow, can't help you there."
"But I thought you liked Harry Potter!"
"Um what? If he's pissing you off kick him out of your house then. Then come see me and Marvin."
"I can't do that. Kenny may want to hit on every chick on the room no matter how disgusting but I can't just throw him out and send him back to his fighting family on a holiday!"
"And you wonder why we call you a pussy."
"Shut up, Kyle! You know you can just take care of Marvin yourself, you have no idea how much I have on my plate right now! My mom's nagging me, my aunt's coddling me, my sister's hitting me, my cousin's hating me, my dad and uncles are drinking on me... why is everything in my family always about me?"
"I don't know, didn't they leave you alone that whole two weeks when your dad thought Broadway was totally awesome?"
"Goddamnit, Kyle, you're not helping." Stan sighed, "Look, I have to go; my Uncle Dean seems sane enough. Maybe he can help me out. Call me back when you're not just bitching about taking care of an Ethiopian."
"Stan, come on, dude, you're his friend, too, why do you have to be such a dick about this?"
"I'm being a dick?"
"Yeah you are, Stan. Stop thinking about yourself and care about others, it's the fucking holiday season."
Stan rolled his eyes, half considering just hanging up on Kyle. "I am caring. I'm trying to keep my family together so they don't kill each other with the wild card of Kenny thrown in the mix."
"I consider you family as well, Stan, the part of your family that is actually liked and wanted. Don't forget about me and Marvin."
"Fine, I'll be stuck with my family the rest of the day but maybe we can all hang out tomorrow. Marvin too. Cartman of course."
"You have your own person in our chosen family you don't get along with either." Stan said.
"Cartman's different. Nobody likes him." Kyle answered with annoyance, "He bends his mind so he thinks everyone does, but come on, I bet even his mom would ditch him in a Wal-Mart if she had the chance."
"Dude, come on, that is absolutely true, but you don't need to say it aloud, that's kind of harsh. I mean, doesn't Butters like Cartman? They're always off doing stuff together."
"No way, Butters hates Cartman, too, he's just too much of a pussy to say it to his face." Kyle rolled his eyes.
"I know a few blood family members I'd like to leave in a Walmart." Stan nodded at his Aunt as she sleepily came down the stairs in a fuzzy pink robe. She smiled and landed a kiss on her nephew's head. "Are you sure you're old enough to use the phone by yourself, sweetie?"
Stan made a face at his aunt. "Yes, I'm allowed to use the phone. I'm talking to my best friend. "
"I want to know everything about you and your little friends, I only became a child psychologist to study how boys act and socialize. I want to meet your little friends, I'm sure they're all just as sweet as you are, Stanley."
Stan could hear hysterical laughter coming from Kyle's end of the line. "Dude, who the fuck is that?"
"I'll call you back Kyle, come to my house with Marvin tomorrow morning." He muttered into the phone as he slammed it down. His Aunt was still looking at him expectantly. He'd show his aunt a thing or two. "Sure, Aunt Joanne you can meet all my friends. You'll especially like my friend Eric Cartman."
"I'm sure I would. Your little friend Kenny is pretty interesting. I think that boy has a real lack of older female positive reinforcement. When I gave him a hug he didn't want to let go."
"Yeah Aunt Joanne Kenny is really desperate for your...reinforcement. Is Uncle Dean awake?"
"Oh, well, he's still in bed but he's not asleep anymore." Joanne noted, "How about you go talk to him? You could use some positive male reinforcement in your life from an actual positive male role model, especially one that doesn't spend all day drinking."
"Thanks, Aunt Joanne." Stan nodded, running off towards the bedroom his aunt and uncle were in right now. Joanne shrugged. Oh well. Stan entered to see his uncle covered under the blanket, reading a historical novel held up by a sleeveless arm. "Hey Uncle Dean."
"Hello there, Stanley, or do you prefer Stan these days? You seem to be getting older."
Stan smiled as he sat at the edge of the bed. "Yeah actually I do, all my friends call me Stan. Only my mom calls me Stanley, usually when I'm in trouble." Wow so this is how it felt to have an intelligent and interesting father figure.
"Well Stan, do you know anything about the Civil War?"
"Oooh, lots." Stan said, "You know that second one two years ago? I was there. I got to be Jefferson Davis at the end and I surrendered, it was hella cool!" Dean raised an eyebrow, then laughed,
"Awh, that's my nephew, making up great stories! You should consider being a writer, you get to be creative for a living and then you get really depressed and try to shoot yourself."
"Uncle Dean, why do some famous writers go on to kill themselves? My ex girlfriend was always going on about that Sylvia Plath chick and her oven."
"I don't really know, Stan, it just seems there's something about writing that's just really depressing. Just wait until you're older, the kind of books they make you read in school - All My Sons, 1984, The Lottery, Animal Farm, The Crucible..." Dean shook his head, "Ah you had a girl, Stan? Lucky boy! What happened with that?"
"I... I don't really know. Just... some stuff happened last month and... I guess we grew apart is all. I was off doing my thing, and she was off doing her thing, and Kyle's off doing his thing, and Cartman's being a racist bastard, and I guess we both just realized you know... it's the fourth grade. It's not like it'd have lasted anyway. I mean, come on, who has a girlfriend in the fourth grade?" Stan laughed nervously.
"I met your Aunt Joanne in elementary school."
"Really, you did?" Stan raised an eyebrow, "What were you and her like back then?"
"Well I was a lot like you, hell Stan I pretty much was you. I did okay in school, excelled at history, was athletic and would try to join any sport I could, I had my little girlfriend but it wasn't very serious and we broke up every other week. But she blew me away with how smart and beautiful she was. But we didn't have anything serious until we were much older."
Uncle Dean was pretty cool. Stan rolled over so he was lying on his stomach on the bed and propped his chin up on his elbows, trying not to think of Wendy growing up into Aunt Joanne. Well both had bossy tendencies and were heavily into their educations. Maybe Uncle Dean could give legitimate girl advice, who else did Stan have to turn to? His dad? Kenny? Hoping Chef's ghost or a giant clitoris would show up again? "So tell me more about when you were my age, Uncle Dean."
Uncle Dean chuckled and carefully placed a bookmark into his novel. "Well when I was in 6th grade I took a white rose and stuck it in the little slots of her locker. She loved it but my friends at the time made fun of me for weeks. It's typical male bravado to show girls you care about the exact opposite."
Stan blinked. "Huh. Who knew? What did you do about your friends making fun of you for liking a girl?"
"Oh they were no problem. The person who was really pissed off was your mother. I took the rose from a bouquet she got from some guy at her high school."
Stan found the mental picture of the two fighting pretty amusing, "How did Aunt Joanne react? Was she happy or did she feel indifferent? Was she super happy or just kind of meh about it?" Stan asked.
"Oh, well, she thought it was really sweet actually." Dean smiled, "She was pretty happy about it, but she was so busy at the end of High School and stuff, we didn't get to spend a lot of time together. Sometimes I'm surprised we're still together." he shrugged a bit.
"Oh god everyone in this family likes to divorce and get back together don't they? Lawyers love the Marsh family for the money they can make off of us. I know, my best friend's dad is a lawyer, he loves money."
Uncle Dean smiled and sat up in bed, stretching a bit, Stan noticed for the first time what his Uncle's sleeping attire was. "The real secret to impressing women is... What? Why are you looking at me like that?"
The reason was probably because he was wearing pink panties and, worse, a lacy matching bra, with a strap down his arm in a way that would probably be quite seductive, that is if it wasn't a forty-something man in the outfit.
Stan gagged a bit as he quickly jumped off the bed, disgusted not only at his hairy Uncle but also with himself for attempting to trust an adult and once again being screwed over by it. "Yeah, you should know all about what women want if you want to be one." Stan slowly backed towards the door as his Uncle got out of bed and put on a matching lacy pink robe, something Stan had thought belonged to his aunt.
"Stan, it's not like that, it's called cross-dressing and it's perfectly-" Stan didn't wait to hear the rest. He ran the hell out of that room and towards Stephanie and Shelly's room, where both girls and Kenny looked to be playing Xbox. Shelly got up, glared, and shut the door as Kenny waved uncaringly. Stan looked down, shook the handle, knocked, sighed, and then raced down the stairs to the couch where his father, uncle and his uncle's heterosexual life partner were drinking beers together.
"Stan, Stan, is everything okay son? You look like you've just seen a ghost!" Cue rimshot. Randy looked at his son with the kind of concern a good parent gives their child when they're looking severely traumatized. Stan just pointed towards the bedroom - Randy and Jimbo exchanged glances. "Jesus, do you think he walked in on Joanne and Dean getting it on?"
"Mm, I think I'd be traumatized too." Ned said. Dean came down the stairs in his robe. He looked slightly embarrassed at first, then grinned and approached them,
Randy did a double take at his brother in law as he spat out beer. Stan was trying his best to hide behind his father and the couch. Both Jimbo and Ned drew their guns as Uncle Dean stopped at the bottom of the stairs, his frilly pink robe swaying open. "Guys there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for this." Jimbo waved his weapon, sneering, while both his brother and nephew ducked,
"Just what the fuck is goin' on here, Dean?" Jimbo asked, "You trying to turn my nephew into a goddamn pansy? Isn't he already enough of a pussy without your sick shit?" Regardless of Jimbo and Stan's relationship, Jimbo was clearly protective of his nephew, and Ned was loyal enough to Jimbo not to question this defense.
"Sick shit?" Dean's eyes narrowed now, "You're all ignorant. Bravo. I'm a cross-dresser, what a big secret." he rolled his eyes, "So what if I like to dress up in women's' clothes? We all have our little things that make us who we are, and it's perfectly normal for one to explore their sexuality. Why should it matter if I'm in a dress or pants? Gender is about what's between your legs, not how you act." he explained, "And I'm not forcing a thing on little Stanley here, he's free to make his own choices - although his uncle would like to encourage he do some exploration at least - we were having a perfectly civil conversation. So put your rifle down already, Jesus fucking Christ."
"Okay that's it, Stanley, hold my beer." Randy shoved the bottle into his son's hand as he got up. "I don't really care what excuses you're trying to give you're not going to do that sick crap in my house or you can get the hell out, Thanksgiving or not."
"What are you going to do about it?" Dean smirked.
"I'll kick your ass is what I'll do. Jimbo and Ned will back me up and they're Vietnam vets."
"Oh I've lectured quite a bit to my students about 20th Century wars. You wanna fight brother in law, go ahead!" Dean widened his legs in a combat position, the robe still open.
"Dude this is pretty fucked up right here!" Stan said from behind the couch before ducking behind it again. Jimbo cocked his gun, as did Ned.
"We ain't afraid of a man who runs around in pink panties!" he called, holding the weapon straight at him.
"You two were in Vietnam, I'm sure you're quite familiar with a fighting style called Jungle Warfare. Randy?" Dean replied. Randy shook his head, pulled back his arm and then pushed forward to punch Dean when he quickly kicked Randy right in the shin. Randy went down, gripping his shin and howling in pain. Dean then kneed Randy under the jaw, causing him to fly up and land in pain. Randy tried to grab Dean's leg but he shook it off. Kicking Randy again, and leaving him on the floor, Dean rubbed his hands together and returned to the bed, picking up his book.
Stan, Jimbo and Ned all stared down at Randy coughing and curled up in the fetal position as Dean went back up the stairs. Stan carefully set his dad's beer can next to his head. "Thanks for sticking up for me, Dad, I guess. You okay?"
"Staaaan? Don't tell your mother about this."
"I won't, Dad." Stan started up the stairs as Jimbo helped Randy stand up. "On second thought..." Stan mumbled to himself he grabbed his jacket from the coat rack. He smiled at his mom and Aunt preparing food in the kitchen and grabbed a soda from the fridge. He chugged half of it opened the garage door. He could fill half of the can with Jameson to try and get through the rest of the day.