Thursday, September 13, 2012
A Marsh Family Thanksgiving "Chapter Eight: Ten Months But It's Complete"
Authors: John-SP150 and NoseBridgePinch
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
Note: *sigh* One more story (possibly two) and I'm tapped out of stuff I can post to this blog.
The folded-out dinner table in the Marsh dining/living room was enormous - so much so the couch and furniture had to be moved to accommodate it, and the fold-out chairs it required. The head of the table, back in the dining room, was reserved for Randy Marsh, being the patriarch. The left side, from their side towards the opposite side of the house, included Sharon Marsh, Grandpa Marvin Marsh, Uncle Jimbo, Ned Gerblansky, Gerald and Sheila Broflovski, then their sons Kyle and Ike, and finally two open seats - one for Stan, and one for Shelly. Opposite them sat Dean Kimble, Joanne Kimble, Liane Cartman, five open seats for the McCormick family, Eric Cartman, and Stephanie Kimble. The opposite of the head was an open seat which was given to Starvin Marvin, since he was the royal guest of honor.
"Damnit, Howard, I'm hungry, where the hell's the food!?" Marvin banged his fist on the table. He didn't serve in the Royal Air Force so his son and daughter-in-law could dick around when he was hungry.
"Where's Stan? I should go check on him, Sweetie..." Joanne got up when Dean yanked her down,
She tried to get up as Dean tried to pull her back down, "Honey, he needs some freedom. He's ten now, it's his choice what he does with his body."
"What?" Joanne raised an eyebrow.
"What?" Dean asked.
"And then, you know, the seventh book came out, and dude, they finally had Ron and Hermione get together, and so all those dumb retards who thought Harry and Hermione belonged together got put in their place." Kyle was explaining.
"Dumb retards?" Stephanie raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms.
"Well, yeah dude, the hints were like anvil-sized. We were right, they were wrong." Kyle continued.
Stephanie looked down for a moment, and then softened, although she still looked displeased, "I'd be pissed off, but at least we can both agree that Hermione and Malfoy is friggin' crazy."
"Right on!" Kyle grinned.
"Hey ya'll, sorry we're late gettin' down here." The McCormick family arrived to take their seats, "Sorry about all that, we were gonna eat in Stan's bedroom to save some trouble but it... wasn't such a good idea." Carol began adjusting her hair and shirt again, as Stuart fixed his hat,
"Uh, yeah, we ran into some, uh, turbulence, heh..." Stuart chuckled. "So, where's the food?" Karen took a seat next to her mother, looking around. She noticed Ike Broflovski and waved a bit, and he waved back. Karen smiled, but no words were exchanged between the two yet.
"More importantly than that, where's Shelly?" Kevin McCormick asked excitedly, licking his lips. He cared far more for the fate of his possible love interest than for the fate of his stomach. It was perhaps sweet, in a sick sort of way.
"Ugh, Goddamnit, I'm surrounded by freaks." Cartman pinched the bridge of his nose. Joanne smiled - ah, Eric really was the perfect boy for her nephew.
Finally, Randy and Sharon left the kitchen, Sharon placing plates and pans of food on the table for the feast. Randy helped for a moment, then turned his head towards the staircase,
"Stan, Shelly, dinner's ready, get downstairs you, two!"
Grandpa hadn't been in his room when Stan entered, a few cans of beer stuffed into his coat pockets. He drank the first beer while sitting on his grandfather's bed watching the football game. It was one small thing he could probably still enjoy, even though it was now a common interest with his Uncle. He hated to think the Broncos merchandise all over his bedroom would probably annoy him and would be thrown out along with his blue and white striped sheets. It didn't take much for things to be completely ruined for Stan these days.
On the second beer, between commercials, he observed the walls of his grandfather's room, an ugly gray-green color. He had the realization that things didn't look any better. Usually after a few drinks everything would be sunshine and roses by now. He looked at his reflection in the mirror over the dresser, his awesome broken nose staring back at him. Instead of doing that thing Kyle said he did too much, he grabbed his grandfather's pocket knife and poked a hole in his third beer to try and chug it all at once, since he'd seen his father shotgun beers all the time.
By the fourth beer the only thing that had changed (other than some of the third beer was now spilled on his coat) was Stan deciding the next time someone in the house pissed him off, he'd tell them exactly what he thought of them. No exceptions.
Stan heard his name being called and threw the empty cans under his grandfather's bed and headed downstairs. Shelly was coming out of her room. Stan's eyes bugged out at what his sister was wearing. "Is that the skirt Uncle Dean and Aunt Joanne gave me?"
"What? Are you jealous that I'm wearing your skirt?" Shelly gave an evil, spit-filled grin; her braces gleamed, like a bear trap or a solid steel knife.
No holding back. "You don't even realize how terrible you look in it. All your stomach fat is bunched over the sides. Maybe you should take a few fashion tips from Cartman to hide that kind of shit."
The look on her face had almost been worth it, before once again, Stan found himself being flung down the stairs. He was getting better at this kind of treatment and remembered to curl his body into a ball so he landed at the bottom almost pain free. Almost. He looked up to see the entire Thanksgiving table stop talking and stare at him, his mother at the kitchen door with the turkey platter in her hands.
"What, like you haven't seen me get hurt enough already this weekend? You're probably enjoying it by now!" Stan picked himself up and took a seat next to Ike.
The entire table murmured to themselves when once again they all stopped to stare at Shelly clumsily walking down the stairs in a too tight skirt and too high heels. Randy was coming out of the kitchen now with a large bowl of unopened creamed corn when he nearly dropped it. "What the hell are you wearing young lady?"
Stan smirked as he leaned down to whisper to Ike. "Hey do you mind switching seats with me? I kind of want to sit next to Kyle." Ike looked past Stan's seat at Shelly, his small Canadian eyes looking her up and down, then back at Kyle, and promptly moved. Stan settled in his new seat, as Sharon set down the turkey platter, and went back in the kitchen to get some gravy.
"Stanley, you poor baby, what happened on the stairs? Did you trip?" Joanne shook her head, "Dean, can you believe how many injuries poor Stanley gets himself into? I swear, one day that boy's going to get himself killed." Kenny glared at her, "I'm sorry, Kenneth. Is something wrong?"
"No, everything's peachy." Oh sure, when Stan's getting hurt it's a big deal! That was when Sharon came back and began pouring gravy on the mashed potatoes. Kenny grinned as she leaned down to do so - as did some of the other men at the table. Sheila was not distracted terribly, however, and tried to stir up conversation,
"So did any of you hear about that brain-dead teenager who can't do anything but text and roll her eyes? They say her parents are going to euthanize her." Sheila was already planning her social activism for the event, looking at the shocked faces of the people around her.
"Kids these days..." Marvin grumbled, shaking his head.
"Sheila, we've been over this before, that article was from The Onion. It's not really true, it's just for fun." Gerald tried to explain.
"What do you mean it's not true, Gerald? Did you see that poor girl in the video?" Sheila said incredulously, "They were just going to kill her like some kind of sick animal!"
"Sheila, the Onion isn't a real news website; it's just a bunch of jokes and satire. You know, like The Colbert Report?" Sharon explained as she brought back a pan full of stuffing. Sheila looked down and turned red,
"All right, okay, fine..."
"So Randy, did you guys really just buy a turkey at the store?" Jimbo asked with a mischievous grin, "Or did you and Stanley go on a hunt and forget to invite us?"
"Pft, Stan hunting? That'd be like freakin' Elton John going to Hooters!" Cartman laughed. Joanne smiled,
"Eric, it's nice that you've become comfortable enough with your sexuality that you can make open references to gay culture, without feeling embarrassed or self-conscious. Now if only Stanley was as open-minded and comfortable with himself as you were."
“If Cartman’s gay for anyone in this room it’s Kyle!” Stan yelled at his aunt.
Kyle turned away from a pleasant conversation with Stephanie to look quizzically at his best friend. “Um, what?”
“Am I the only one who’s sees how obvious it is? How about the time Cartman made Kyle suck his balls? It’s only a matter of time before fatass goes around declaring him and Kyle a gay couple.” Stan continued to rant.
Kyle froze as the mashed potatoes were passed to him. He took a closer look at his best friend, Stan’s eyes narrowed but unfocused and something spilled all over him, the distinct smell of alcohol. Not this again. “Stan...” Kyle said carefully, in a voice you’d use for a very small child or to coax a wild animal out of a tree. “Just stop talking and eat, now.” Kyle put two large scoops of mashed potatoes on Stan’s plate and shoved a fork into his hand.
“Stanley Marsh, why are you so insensitive? I thought me and your uncle taught you better than that! You need to learn to accept your sexuality like your little friend Eric instead of playing games.” Joanne said sternly.
“Wait, what?” Randy said, “Stan’s about as gay as I am.” Randy put his hands on his hips, angry. How dare they accuse his son of being gay?
Joanne turned to Marvin, “I’m sorry your son and grandson both appear to be in denial about their sexualities.”
“It’s okay. For a faggot, Billy turned out pretty good.” Marvin smiled proudly.
“Goddamnit, nobody here is gay!” Randy crossed his arms with annoyance. Ugh, what a bunch of dumbasses.
“I’m bisexual.” Liane piped in.
“This isn’t about you!” Randy shook his fists, glaring. Liane returned to her food.
“Well there was that one time in the hot tub, Randy.” Gerald said, his eyes shifting to his wife for a reaction. “Not that that’ll happen to Kyle or Stan, mind you.”
Randy turned to his son, “Stan, Daddy won’t judge you; you haven’t masturbated in front of another man have you?”
Stan shifted his eyes around the table. “...Um, do those times in San Diego count, Dad?”
Sharon stood up, “Randy! I’ve had just about enough of this! Can’t we have a normal dinner in this family without talking about gay people or current events or-”
“Hey, didn’t Stanley jack off your dog Sparky back during one of our Book Club meetings?” Sheila brought up.
Sharon sat down, “It’s okay, Sharon, you can file for a third divorce later...” she mumbled to herself.
Cartman laughed as he took the largest part of the turkey breast for himself; with everyone else so distracted he also grabbed both drumsticks as well. “Are you hearing this, Aunt Joanne? All the stuff Stan does to mess with my fragile heart? I think I need another hundred dollars.”
Kyle practically jumped up at the table, leaning into Cartman from across the table. “What are you going to spend your money on Cartman? Enough cheesy poofs to make you a double ass master supreme? Normal fatass isn’t good enough for you?”
“Look, look Aunt Joanne; he’s even got Kyle taunting me as well. You better back down Jew-boy before I have you on your knees in front of all our families by the time dinner is over.” Cartman sneered.
Kyle almost choked on his food, realizing for the first time the shit Cartman told him could be taken as sexual to outsiders, but did indeed back down. “You fat motherfucker.” He mumbled under his breath.
Stan had his hand on his chin and was poking at his food, glaring at all the adults in the room. He could let San Diego and the Sparky incident go, but since skeletons were being drug out of the closet right now, he had something else to address. “Mom, I hope you realize what Kenny has been trying to make you do all weekend. You too, Shelly. Aunt Joanne. Stephanie.”
“Stanley! You will be respectful of the people we invited over.” Sharon said sternly as she crossed her arms over her chest. Stan rolled his eyes as he watched her husband, Cartman’s mom, Kenny, Kevin, Kenny’s Dad, Ike, hell even Kyle’s dad look away in embarrassment. The only males whose eyes weren’t fixated on Sharon’s chest were her family members and Kyle and Cartman; still glaring at each other from across the table. Shelly turned beet red as Stan saw her pull down the skirt from her seat.
“Respect? You like my nine year old soon to be ex-friend trying to get you to take your shirt off in front of him for the past forty-eight hours? You can’t be that stupid mom; if you were I’d start to think I was adopted." Stan held up his hand. "Don’t get any ideas, Aunt Joanne.”
“...what the heck are you talking about, Stanley?” Joanne asked, crossing her arms over her own, less impressive chest.
“Stan, I know your mom has a hot rack, but do you really need to get all incestuous at the table? Some of us are trying to eat here.” Cartman rolled his eyes.
“Hey, uh, how about we do grace, huh? Before we eat?” Stuart interrupted. He loved discussing boobs, but this wasn’t the right context, “Who wants to do the honours?”
Randy tore his eyes away from a fuming Sharon, proud he managed to still have the hottest wife out of all his friends. Well maybe not, his eyes flicking to Carol before answering Stuart. "Well we were Catholic, then Atheist and then Mormon. Now I'm not sure what we are but between all that we haven't been praying before meals lately."
"Maybe that's why your family goes through so much trouble all the time." Stuart suggested, "You really should pray before your meals. It brings good luck."
"Like you'd know anything about luck." Gerald mumbled, but Stuart didn't seem to hear that.”
"Now, now, now." Uncle Dean spoke up from his seat next to Randy. "I wouldn't dismiss the power of prayer over luck, but the Broncos did just beat the Giants 26-2."
Stan observed his Uncle was in a Broncos jersey, but knew damn well under the table he was still in that purple skirt. It wasn't as bad as Shelly but still....Stan pushed his plate away, puking at the dinner table wouldn't help the situation.
Randy considered it. "You know, Dean you're right. I'll do the honors then. Stan? Staaan. Get out your phone; you might want to get a picture of this. Anyone else who wants to join in can as well."
Stan sighed and got out his iPhone reluctantly. Kyle got out his own iPhone, as the tech geek and Apple hater of the group couldn't not own an iPhone if his father was a 'genius' for Apple now, despite all the literal shit he'd been put through. The McCormicks didn't have mobile phones really, except Kenny and sometimes Kevin, but neither of them saw reason to pull out theirs.
Kenny looked down, then pulled out the Polaroid camera, decided it couldn't hurt. The rest of his family didn't notice, moving into their prayer positions. The Broflovskis weren't sure what to do, considering they were of a different faith. Jimbo and Ned shrugged and moved into praying position as well. Sharon looked around awkwardly and decided to do so as well. How could Randy screw up a simple prayer after all?
Randy let out a mischievous grin as he shoved his chair back and got down on one knee, he put his elbow on his knee and his fist against his head. "Dear Lord, we would like to thank you for this bountiful and plentiful meal you have bestowed upon our families. And we are grateful such a tremendous feast is ours and not going to some dumb starving kids in some African country..."
Sharon's arms went back their crossed position, since her son had tried to point it out to her, missing her typical brown sweater. But all that embarrassment was forgotten. "Randy! What the hell are you trying to do this time?"
"It's a meme, Mom. An old one at that. Dad if you're going to pull that kind of crap, you should at least try to keep up with the times, here." Stan jumped up so he was standing on his chair. He pulled the chest part of his beer stained jacket out in the Faith Hilling position.
Kenny snapped a picture of Stan's dad Tebowing, then pointed the camera to Stan now Faith Hilling, snapping another picture. This was almost too perfect him. "Yeah Mrs. Marsh, you're way more up with the trends than Mr. Marsh is, try to do what Stan is doing."
“I’ve had enough of this stupidity. I’m changing my shirt!” Sharon got up and grabbed Shelly on her way to the stairs. “You too young lady, come on!”
“Awh.” Kevin said, looking down at his plate.
“It’s a damn shame isn’t it?” Kenny said, shaking him head.
Stan glared, "Goddamnit Kenny, stop harassing my mom! Your mom has nice boobs, why doesn’t anyone ever hit on her, huh?" Carol held her arms out and looked down in surprise. Many of the men of the table looked at her as well. Sheila looked offended, although for exactly which reason it was difficult to determine.
"I told you he wouldn't turn out gay!" Dean smirked to his wife, who was eating and seemingly not paying any attention; "Although of course this doesn't rule out transvestism..." he rubbed his chin and smiled.
"Stanley, did... did you by any chance, get into your dad's porno stash?" Jimbo asked, slightly scared right now.
"I'm proud of ya, Billy, give into your masculine instincts, don't be a goddamn pansy!" Grandpa shook his fists with happiness.
"Dude, you can't fucking blame me, your mom's rack is legendary around here." Kenny crossed his arms.
"It's true, it is." Liane said almost absent-mindedly as she ate.
"Well, two can play at that game, asshole!" Stan got up while Carol was examining herself and proceeded to slap her right on the ass.
A blush crossed her cheeks and she glared, “Augh! What the hell are you doin', kid? Can't ya at least gimme a goddamn warning or something?" She has her priorities straight. Carol stood up to face her drunken, injured, ten year old potential suitor.
Stan had nothing left to lose at this point; he took one look at Kenny and outstretched his arms, his eager hands grabbing Carol’s boobs for a full two seconds before he was shoved off by Stuart. "You little son of a bitch, I know my wife's a choice piece of ass but you get your fuckin' hands off her!" Stuart said, "Why, if I had my shotgun, I'd probably nod towards it in the corner or somethin' to scare you into thinkin' I'd use it!"
At the word 'shotgun' Stuart found himself face to face with Jimbo and Ned, their guns drawn at him. "Now hold on, if my nephew wants to chase some tail, it's the god given right of any red blooded American male. But Stanley, you have to be careful when it comes to fine ladies who are already married."
"Ma’am." Ned said, nodding towards Carol who was now behind Stuart.
"GERALD, DO SOMETHING!" Sheila shouted in disgust, or jealousy, one of the two. Gerald looked quite calmly to Liane Cartman, speaking in a casual monotone as if to a co-worker, not even looking toward his wife, "Does anyone ever do this to you, Liane?"
"Oh all the time, not often any of Eric's little friends though, except for Kenny." Liane explained, still eating like nothing was going on. "It's cute actually."
"I didn't mean THAT, Gerald!" Sheila said angrily, crossing her arms.
Sharon returned from upstairs dressed in her very baggy and unrevealing flowered pyjama top on top of her pants, Shelly right behind her in regular clothes. “RANDY MARSH!”
“Oh crap.” Stan put his arms behind his back, trying to look a bit innocent before his mom found out what he was trying to do.
His dad didn’t notice his reference, still in mid-prayer. The Tebowing position was very hard to get out of.
“It’s not your husband Mrs. Marsh; it’s your son tryin’ to get a piece of my wife in front of everyone.” Stuart said, putting a protective arm around Carol.
“Amen!” Randy finally finished as he got up and looked around the side of the table. “What, what happened now? Why are you so mad, Sharon? It’s Thanksgiving.”
Sharon didn’t seem to see anything else in the room right now but her son, “Stanley Marsh, you go to your room right now, young man!”
“Hey, don’t be so hard on Billy, Cheryl! He’s a good kid and stuff!” Grandpa Marvin defended his grandson. “He came out a lot better than Howard.”
“Dad, could you please explain this Howard thing to me again?” Randy asked.
“See what I mean? He doesn’t know a goddamn thing, not even his own name.” Grandpa shook his head.
Stan held up his arms in surrender. “Kenny spills water on your shirt, tries to take your picture when you’re not looking, made Shelly try on a skirt three sizes too small, gave me a broken nose, and I’m the one in trouble? You know what, fine, I give up. Screw you guys, I’m going upstairs.” Stan was halfway to his room before he poked his head down again. ”Happy Thanksgiving, assholes.” He slammed his door shut.
Sharon faced the very quiet Thanksgiving table, trying to save face as she sat down. “He...gets very good grades.” she insisted.
“That’s not what I heard.” Cartman laughed as he served himself some more mashed potatoes - Mrs. Marsh always made the best fucking potatoes. He took a spoon and poured an unhealthy amount of gravy on it.
Stan inspected the mess his bedroom was. His sheets were in disarray, but most of the blankets and pillows remained on the floor. He decided to take a seat in front of his TV instead when he heard shouting one last time from his mom.
“Stanley! We will have a discussion about your grades after everyone’s left, young man!”
So much for the long weekend if he was grounded. If everyone else was going to yell at him he’d want to return the favor. He picked up his iPhone and scrolled through his contacts almost at random, except of course her name was almost at the end of the alphabet.
Wendy was at home, in the restroom splashing cold water on her face. She looked at herself in the mirror trying to snap out of it. Her parents kept calling her downstairs to come and eat just a little bit, telling her she was being silly. She said she didn’t want to eat today as protest of the mistreatment of the Native Americans at the first Thanksgiving, but maybe her fast was an actual sign of depression. New Years was over a month away, but she’d take the beginning of the Christmas season as a fresh start. She’d get over her painful break up, start thinking towards the future; she’d always been a strong girl and never let things affect her this badly.
She dried her face with a towel and stood up straight in the mirror, considering brushing her hair or putting on some makeup. She settled on tying her hair back in a ponytail, as she heard her phone ring from her bedroom.
She entered her room and picked up her Blackberry, freezing at the number on the caller ID. Her friends told her to delete that number, but she never had the heart to. She hesitantly answered.
“Wendy, I’d like to thank you.”
“Stan?” Her hope rose a bit, maybe things would be okay after all. “Thank me for what?”
“For teaching me a lesson. I learned something today from the worst Thanksgiving ever; if you truly care about a person you’ll let them get away with pretty much anything. They could be the most wretched, vile, scum of the earth, but if you love them you’ll ignore that and be a doormat to them no matter what. I’m just pointing out what you helped me see.”
“You mean... I helped you see that?” Wendy’s eyes narrowed but she couldn’t help but smile just a little bit. Perhaps there was hope after all. “I helped?”
“You’re terrible, my family is selfish, and my asshole friends can’t get along. Normally I'll forgive everyone. But I realized, you can let people you care about get away with murder. Because once they piss you off, you start realizing all the wrong they’ve done. Then you end up being the stupid one in the end. This is why I can't stand you anymore. Everyone else is a mess, and I've given up trying to fix it. But you were the first lost cause. I’d like you to hear that from me. Maybe you’ll learn something too. Um, happy Thanksgiving.”
The phone went dead and Wendy sat back, trying to get a grip on what he just said. Stan was obviously stressed but he didn’t have to take it out on her. But still, if he was blaming her for his attitude when he was so nice to her in the past maybe it was for the best they broke off contact. Wendy did what her friends had been telling to do for a while, and scrolled Stan’s name in her phone, deleting his contact information. She took a deep breath, trying to think of this as kick she needed. She’d indulge in her angst one more time and then go down stairs and have some food. Wendy grabbed the pillow off her bed and buried her face into it to muffle her sobs.
Stan rubbed his eyes as he looked at the ‘call ended’ screen. Then he crawled over to his desk and threw up several times in the trash can. Alcohol was a way better reason for puking than having a girlfriend ever was. At least his ex had been the one person to actually listen to him out of everyone this weekend.
Feeling a bit better, lighter from getting out his aggression, he grabbed his pillow and curled up on the floor to try and block out the shouting from downstairs.
A few hours later Stan heard knocking at his bedroom door. He opened his eyes but remained lying on the floor. “What do you want?”
“Your laundry service, sir.” Came a muffled voice.
“Dude, come on, why do you have to do that?” Another voice said.
“Because it’s funny.” The first voice laughed.
The door opened as Kenny and Kyle entered.
“Dude what the hell?’ Stan asked, finally sitting up.
“Kenny, the bed.” Kyle pointed as Kenny started pulling off the old sheets and remaking Stan’s bed.
“Sorry about my parents earlier. They tend to do that at a moment’s notice. I’ve seen beds left in worse conditions, you’re lucky.” Kenny tossed the dirty sheets on the floor next to Stan, who moved to get out of the way.
Kyle held his nose. “Ugh it reeks of puke in here. How come the one with the weak stomach in our group is most likely to grow up into an alcoholic?”
“Hey, I told Stan if he wanted a drinking buddy I’d be there for him.” Kenny said as he tossed the comforter over the bed and threw the pillows on top. “There, no harm done.”
“Yeah sure.” Stan mumbled under his breath. “What are you guys doing up here? One last goodbye before you don’t see me until our Christmas adventure?”
“Oh we’re here to cover your ass before your mom comes up here to yell at you, for hitting on Kenny’s mom and possibly your math grade. We didn’t want to see you also get busted for drinking on top of that.” Kyle started picking up scattered toys all over the floor; he opened the toy chest to see the asthma inhaler on top. “I didn’t know you had asthma, Stan.”
“I-” Stan stopped himself if Kyle didn’t remember where he got it from. “Yeah I’ve had it for months now.” He was about to elaborate and bullshit a bit more before Kenny shoved a cup into his hand. “What the hell is this?”
“Hangover cure.” Kenny smiled back at him. “Well my dad always makes it for himself and my mom. It’s mostly Gatorade, with a Five Hour Energy shot and a little bit of liquor. For the hair of the dog effect.”
“Ugh you stink of booze, Stan. You should probably change your shirt and throw your jacket in the wash with the dirty sheets just in case.” Kyle yanked on the sleeve of Stan’s jacket.
“Watch out Kyle, don’t give Aunt Joanne any ideas with you trying to take off Stan’s clothes.” Kenny said as he yanked the pillow Stan had been laying on out from under him, forcing his pathetic friend to stand up.
“No she only thinks fatass and Stan are a gay couple. But yeah you’re right.” Kyle walked over to Stan’s closet and tossed a t-shirt at him.
“Cartman? Why isn’t here to help, well to mock me?” Stan said as he caught the shirt.
“We left him downstairs to distract your parents from coming up here right away. I guess he’s taking the opportunity to scam a few more bucks out of your aunt and uncle.”
“Dumb asshole. I guess at least he isn’t up here with us.” Stan didn’t change, instead he looked over his stained clothes, dirty sheets, broken Lego sets, abandoned Xbox controllers, setting down the glass with the hangover concoction on the floor and his two friends helping him clean his room. “You guys, why are you doing all this for me?” He picked up some broken Legos. Goddamnit, that X-Wing took like, three days to build, not counting the time he spent chasing after his dad getting obsessed with aliens.
“Look Stan, we’re just trying to help, you asshole.” Kenny sighed, “I’m sorry I perved out on your mom all Thanksgiving, okay?” He said it a mix of regret and eagerness to get it over with.
Kyle took the broken Lego X-Wing out of Stan’s hand and set it on his dresser. “Thanksgiving’s been bastardized enough by The History Channel, I didn’t want to have to watch you two have a who can be most like their father contest, including the mom stuff.”
“You don’t want to grow up to be like your dad, Kyle?” Stan asked.
“Not if I can help it, both your dad’s drink but my dad...how can anyone stand to sniff cat pee, to get high off it or not.” Kyle wrinkled his nose in disgust as he kicked more mess of Stan’s toys under the bed.
“That’s not the point... look, Stan; I’m sorry I was a dick and tried to see your mom under-dressed and stuff.” Joke was really on Stan; Kenny still had a couple bras in there, “I was being a jackass. I was just jealous.”
“I’m sorry for being jealous too. You’re the only person who’s survived an extended weekend with my entire family and come out better than I have. I appreciate you guys helping me. But I won’t apologize for grabbing Kenny's mom’s ass and boobs; you deserved that since I wouldn’t break your nose.” Stan shook his head as he took a seat on his freshly made bed.
Kenny put a hand on his shoulder, “My dad would say you’re the lucky one... but I have to envy you. You got way further with my mom than I could ever hope to get with yours... actually you got further with both. Lucky bastard.”
“God will you stop referencing Superbad, Kenny? Seth Rogen’s a fat asshole and gives other Jews a bad name.” Kyle snapped as he threw a plastic toy giraffe at Kenny’s feet.
Kenny laughed as he dodged easily. “That gripe sounds a little bit personal, you okay Kyle?”
Kyle glared, “We could reference Family Guy, but noo, no one wants that.”
“Oh, stop letting it get to you, Kyle.” Kenny rolled his eyes. “It’s just a TV show.”
Kyle rolled his eyes back as he put the Xbox equipment neatly on the shelf. “There, now your room is pretty much clean. Though it still fucking stinks in here. I’m not cleaning that shit up.”
“I’m not either.” Stan muttered, lying down on his bed.
Kenny looked between his two friends, he was always stuck doing the crappy jobs. “You guys are such pussies.” Kenny grabbed the Broncos trash can and opened Stan’s window. “You better appreciate this Stan; I should get to grab your mom’s naked tits for this-.” Kenny leaned out the window to turn over the trash can.
Stan sat up in his bed, ready to tell Kenny to never come to his house ever again. But before he could get the words out, both he and Kyle watched as Kenny toppled out the two story window...
“Christ, Sharon, what’s gotten into him?” Randy sighed, “We can’t even have Thanksgiving dinner together as a family anymore! He used to be such a good kid...”
“I can’t believe Stanley’s been so out of control lately!” Sharon said, eyes over her head, “He used to be such a picture-perfect child, just like Jesus he was tender and mild. He’d wear a smile while he wore a thorny crown.”
“Yeah, a little time off school and these kids go crazy. That’s why kids should stay in school even longer.” Randy said, poking his mashed potatoes, quite angry now with his son’s embarrassing behavior towards their guests.
“I don’t know what you two are yakking about! I’m proud of Billy.” Grandpa cried out, “He’s a good kid, Howard. At least he didn’t sing with some pussy band when he was a teenager!”
“Dad, he’s ten.” Randy snarled.
“Stanley’s undergone too much psychological stress from the two of you that his fragile psyche has collapsed and his repressed anger and resentment has manifested itself in a serious behavior problem.” Joanne shook her head, “I guess it goes to show however horrible and careless the parents are, the children will always turn out poorly if the parenting is poor. Maybe you should get Stanley some psychiatric help.”
“Joanne, fuck off.” Sharon said bluntly, getting pretty sick of her sister-in-law belittling her and her husband’s parenting.
“Brilliant Sharon, give in to gender stereotyping by treating your own sister-in-law terribly over a small insult. How lady-like of you!” Dean deadpanned.
“I’m proud of Stan myself.” Jimbo interrupted, “You know, he’s really starting to grow some balls. I was starting to think he’d be a pussy forever. Who knows, maybe one day he’ll be in the war just like me and Ned here.”
“Mm who knows?” Ned asked.
“Maybe someday we can take him huntin’ or finishin’ again and he might actually kill a real animal for once!” Jimbo grinned.
“Isn’t killing small animals the first sign of a budding serial killer?” Dean noted.
”I have had it just about up to here with the two of you.” Jimbo scowled, “You and your wife are annoying the hell out of us. Why the hell d’you give a little boy a pink skirt, huh?”
“Skirts can be manly!” Dean defended.
Ignoring all of the ruckus, Stephanie was sitting with Starvin Marvin, who was communicating via his clicks and whistles. Stephanie didn’t miss a beat - did her parents make her learn Ethiopian or something? Oh wait, no, there came Gerald, explaining it in English. He was closest to the kids’ table after all. “What Marvin is saying is that before his family reached Marklar, food was so hard to come by that family members would kill each other over scraps of food.”
“Wow. How do I say Dude, that sucks, in Ethernopian?” Stephanie asked.
“Don’t try to speak it until you’re in college.” Gerald advised. “Marvin says that in Africa, most women have a higher chance of being raped than learning how to read or write, and there’s diamond mines where people fight and get killed over gems. Not to mention all that religious stuff like Joseph Kony... hey, you can’t- well ok- Marvin’s an atheist, apparently.”
“Wow, that’s... pretty fucked up.” Stephanie said bluntly.
Gerald continued translating Marvin’s clicks and whistles, “Absolutely, but you can’t dwell on all of the bad stuff. Marvin’s luckier than a lot of his other fellow Ethiopians - most of them died of AIDS before there was a cure, almost every girl Marvin’s ever met was raped at some point. Marvin’s lucky to be alive; he was the one to lead his people to Marklar, where they can be happy.”
“Yeah... I guess, there are a lot of worse things in the world than your parents kinda overlooking you for your cousin... I mean sure, my parents do dote over Stan but it’s not like they’ve deliberately mistreated me over it, they just want more to be more like him...”
“Well, no, Stephanie, actually that’s abuse-”
“Maybe instead of pushing back to my parents and trying to be angsty and bitchy because they wanted me to be a good kid. I shouldn’t try to act like my cousin. I mean yeah, my life sucks a little, everyone’s life sucks, but at least I have food to eat, and all that shit.”
“Stephanie, no, your parents are-” Ignoring Gerald, she approached her parents and breathed in,
“Mother, Father... listen here. I’ve learned something today. I’m not like my idiot cousin, and hope I never am like him, but you know what? I’m still smart, and no one can ever be exactly like anyone else. If my cousin’s idiocy is the product of his stupid parents, then you need to accept I’m the product of the two of you, okay? I may have been misguided with my hate for Stan, like both of you are misguided with his likeability, but the fact is his entire family are fucked up beyond recognition. I’m lucky I at least got the academic genes out of you. Maybe you did something right in your parenting if I read too much to cope, instead of acting like jackass."
"You know you're right, honey." Dean grinned at her. "You keep on reading those fantasy books and maybe one day you can go to college to study English and Literature. It's not a science or based on fact, but it's still a respectable field of study."
"Yes, and besides, between reading you and I can go dress shopping. Maybe mom can come along as well."
Joanne had set her fork down; she took a deep breath and looked up at her daughter. "This is exactly what I wanted, a situation to go horribly wrong but someone coming out with an intelligent resolution. I never thought Stanley would be the cause for the insanity and you being the voice of reason. I'm so proud of you, Stephanie."
Stephanie smiled back at her parents. "Good. Now can we please just go home and celebrate my birthday in Denver like a normal, solid, and intellectual family, instead of here with these drunken freaks?”
“Hey I’m not even drunk yet!” Randy responded.
“AUGH!” There was a loud thud coming from outside.
“That sounded like Kinney!” Carol stood up, running to the door, followed by her family, all concerned for the middle sibling. Kenny dying wasn’t interesting to Cartman since he wasn’t a pussy like Stan or Kyle were. Though he had racked up $400 from pretending to be as gay as those two. It would be $420 as soon as Stan gave him his payment for the favor he owed him. Instead Cartman continued casually eating at the table, while everyone rushed out to the back yard, the entire gaggle of families outside checking over Kenny McCormick’s bloodied corpse.
“Oh damnit, not again!” Stuart looked down his son’s corpse. A few people raised eyebrows at the ‘again’. “My boy’s dead!”
Carol felt a shooting pain in her stomach, “Aw, damnit, well there go our plans for tonight!” Stuart went over by his wife and put a comforting hand on his and Karen's shoulder. “Poor Kenny...”
“Maybe’s he’s not dead.” Stephanie said, trying to hold back tears. Kenny had been her first kiss, oh the tragedy.
“It looks like he broke his neck, he’s a goner.” Uncle Dean said, leaning over Kenny’s body.
Upstairs both Stan and Kyle were looking out the window in shock. “Oh my God, I killed Kenny!” Stan cried out.
“You-” Kyle began instinctively, “What? No, dude, that’s crazy. It was an accident. He slipped.”
“But right before, I was so angry about how he broke my nose and was going to tell him to never come to my house again!”
“Well technically now he won’t. But no one else will know that. He’s in a better place now.” Kyle tried to put a hand on Stan’s shoulder but his best friend shook him off.
Out in the yard, Uncle Dean was trying to open Kenny’s parka to see if there was anything that could be done to save him. He pulled out something rather interesting. “Where the hell did he get this from?”
“Sharon isn’t that the bra I got you for your birthday last year?” Randy asked.
Sharon turned bright red. “No, no that’s not mine.”
“Yeah it is, Sharon.” Randy continued. “It’s the one you always wear when we play the game where you’re the naughty teacher and I’m the student who’s grades are slipping. Hey, maybe you should cut Stan some slack, math is hard.”
From upstairs Stan turned away in horror, not only for witnessing the death of his second best friend, but for finding more about his parent’s sex life this weekend than he ever wanted to know. Stan had to cover his ears or he’d be jumping out the window after Kenny.
“Well there has to be a reasonable explanation of why a ten year old boy would have a woman’s bra in his coat.” Aunt Joanne was trying to reason.
Uncle Dean stood up and faced the group solemnly. “Of course there is, Kenny was a cross dresser all along!”
A chorus of "What!" Came from both Stuart and Jimbo as the three men broke into an argument.
Kyle shut the window and followed Stan back into his bedroom, genuinely concerned about his friend's mental state. “I’m sorry; I don’t know what I can say. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”
“No, just, your family isn’t getting together for Hanukkah of anything, right?”
“Maybe, but we’ll be on our Christmas adventure by then.”
“But what if something terrible happens to us during that?” Stan gingerly touched his nose, realizing how easy it was to get hurt.
Kyle sat Stan down on the bed and looked at him pointedly. “Listen, dude, we can’t control when we’re gonna die. But I promise if I do, my last words to you would never be, I should get to grab your mom’s naked tits after this. Okay?”
“You’re right, maybe Kenny got what he deserved. Grabbing the boobs of dead Playboy playmates in Heaven.” Stan smiled at his super best friend, though he still felt terrible.
“Hey Stan, I found one of your other stupid relatives.” Cartman said from the doorway, moving aside as a man with shaggy brown hair, glasses, blue jeans and a torn-up work shirt stepped in the room, grinning,
“Hey Stan! Wow, have you grown up. I remember when you were so tiny.... wow, your trim. It's so cute.”
"Trim?" Kyle asked.
"The red parts of your hat, jacket and gloves. So cute. Can I get a closer look." The man said as he stepped forward.
There was a low fear in Stan’s voice, all angst over Kenny taking a backseat, “U-Uncle Shane? You’re out of prison?” he began quietly, before taking off his gloves and hat, before shoving them in his pockets.
“Yep, they finally let me go! Now we can spend all of our time together!” he tried to hug his nephew, but Kyle stood between them protectively. Uncle Shane looked at Kyle, “Who’s your cute friend?”
“...Cartman, call the police.” Stan said, gritting his teeth.
“Nah, I think I’m gonna go watch TV. Have fun with your creepy uncle, dude" Cartman left.
Uncle Shane grinned, rubbing his hands together, “Let’s play a game. It’s called guess what color underwear I’m wearing...”