Fan Art: John-SP150
Rated T for swearing, more cheeseburger jokes and Craig flipping off Stan and Butters a bunch of times.
Synopsis: How many puns can you make off the name Stan Marsh? It becomes the game of the day for the boys of South Park Elementary. Stan The Man does not count.
Note: No, there's not any actual Stutters in this. Not even implied, though Stutters ruined Fun With Veal for me and that was the episode everyone would watch and think of me (Stan fan and vegetarian) I got the title from Rachel (my beta): "Stan Marshmallow and Butters Scotch? Stutters fans would eat it up! (Pun not intended.)"
Now time for a live action commercial that probably won't transfer well to prose!
"Hey kids! Did you ever wonder if your parents totally screwed you with the name they gave you?"
"Yeah!" Said a little boy with longish hair, bangs covering his forehead.
"Please tell us." Says a little girl, her hair in pigtails.
"Now you will be prepared with the new Name Pun Generator! Give it a go!"
The little girl grabs it and types in her first name. A-M-A-N-D-A
"Amanda. Really popular name. Rhymes with panda." The toy spits out in a mechanical voice.
The boy gives a big grin that was trained into most child actors before they grow up to be really screwed up adults. "Golly gee, well that's not too bad, pandas are cute."
The little girl frowns, she's a bit older, therefore a bit more emotionally damaged. "Yeah pandas seem cute until they rip your head off. I hate how popular my name is."
"Why don't you shorten it?" Says the boy, his smile reaching Mormon levels.
The girl shakes her head so her pigtails slap the sides of her face. "No good, everyone goes by Manda as well."
"Why don't you drop some of the last letters and go by Ama?" The boy suggests he's always one to try and make people feel better.
The girl finally smiles like the way she was trained to do as a child actor. "Yeah that's pretty different. I'll do that."
"You know, like how you always forgot to add the D whenever you'd type the word stand for like six whole months?" A little bit of cynicism creeps into the boy's voice. Just a bit, but the start of an eventual suicide in seven to ten years.
The little girl looked away, her face red. "That's...not in the script."
"Like we're not totally off track anyhow. This is the worst fake commercial ever." The boy mumbles under his breath. He's going to grow up to be the Kurt Cobain of...child acting one day.
"I wish daddy was still alive." The girl sighs before forcing her fake smile again. "Your turn!"
The little boy types in his name J-O-H-N. The toy lights up and computes before it sputters and turns off.
"Oh my god, you broke it. You bastard!" The girl says incredulously.
"Brb, I have to restart." The boys says, slapping the side of the toy.
The toy springs back to life but is going at super speed, running though various scenarios. "John: Probably the most popular male name there is. Various meanings, rhyming and misspellings. The worst one being another name for a toilet."
The boy throws the Name Pun Generator into the corner. "This toy sucks."
"That's what you get asshole." The girl says.
"You forgot a comma after asshole, asshole." The boys shoots back.
The children glare at each other as the camera pans away.
"The Name Pun Generator. A great toy brought to you by the makers of the best selling "I Don't Really Hate Candy That Much" and the "I Hate The Solution For Cartman And Wendy Boning Is Stan Either Is Gay Or Suicidal." And our least popular product "That's Why I Put Stan With Bebe Sometimes, To Be An Asshole, Asshole."
From your favorite toy company "Whatever, Fuck You!" coming September 26th.
And now back to South Par-The Stan Marsh show!
"Will you stop saying my fucking name?" Stan shouted to the heavens.
"Who are you talking to?" Craig asked, lowering his finger.
Butters had been called in first to see the principal. Craig and Stan were still sitting outside, each going through various cycles of flipping off and nosebridgepinching.
"No one, you wouldn't understand." Stan put his hands on his head, ready to tear out his hair.
"I didn't say I cared." Craig rolled his eyes.
Stan decided to spill, not because it would make him feel better, but because it would annoy Craig. "Butters started a trend this morning and everyone has been making fun of my name all day. I tried to kick his ass in the hall."
Craig looked up; the first time the other group had interested him in weeks. "Wow, a guy named Butters got everyone to turn on you? I'll never respect him, but that's impressive."
"He pointed out both my first and last name are easy to rhyme but also full of stupid puns. They've been calling me marshmallow all day." Stan's hands returned from his lap to rubbing his face again.
"I'd hate to see what your middle name is." Craig smirked.
"If you must know, it's Patrick, which is pretty normal. Maybe I'll try to go by that from now on." Stan took a deep breath, wondering momentarily if this was the new path for him.
Craig gave one of his rare laughs. "Nah, then we'd call you Patty. Marshmallow suits you if you got your feelings so hurt. What do you think my last name rhymes with?"
"Oh whatever. What the hell are you in for?" Craig shrugged and flipped off Stan again. "Of course. Do you flip people off because of what your last name rhymes with?"
Craig would try to hide his amusement from Stan's misfortune, even if the situation was screamingly hilarious. "People pay psychiatrists good money to hear their bullshit melodrama. I don't want to hear yours."
"I wasn't asking for help." Stan turned away from Craig and crossed his arms.
Craig thought for a moment. He could offer his brand of kindness, if Stan was being such a whiny little bitch. "Listen, I don't make excuses for who I am and you shouldn't either. Here's some obvious free advice. I think you need to stop being so worried over what other people think of you. The only person you need to please is yourself."
"I'm not going to take your advice on how to please myself." Stan snapped.
"I assume you'd be an expert on self pleasure by now. Maybe I'll make people call you Stan Diego along with Patty and Marshmallow." Craig smirked, trying to hold back full out laughing at Stan.
Stan scooted to the far end the bench so he was as far away from Craig as possible. His mind working out the right thing to say to the principal to really screw over Butters. He deserved whatever was coming to him. Maybe he could throw Craig under the bus as well.
"Hey you in the blue hat!"
Both Stan and Craig sat up as Stephen Stotch came in. "Oh, the kid with the red poofball. You're friends with my son, what has that little troublemaker done now?"
Stan had the perfect opportunity to screw over Butters. "Oh he did a lot."
"I'll bet he did. I told my wife that boy's been cursed since the day he was born. He can't do anything right, he can't stand up for himself except for back talk where I don't even know where he got it from." Stephen crossed his arms and tapped his foot impatiently.
"Yeah, he does have a big mouth." Stan smirked.
"Worst of all he's not sorry for it. He tells me he's sorry, but his actions never follow through."
"Well Butters is probably too wimpy to get the right message out." Stan tried to reason with Mr. Stotch.
"Damn right, that boy is a sissy. Butters is going to get the punishment he deserves if he's sent home from school. I can't believe they pulled me from work. I've got to call my wife to decide what we're going to do. He obviously needs more severe punishment." Mr. Stotch walked back outside, slamming the office door behind him, making Stan jump.
Craig had an actual smile on his face. "Damn dude, Butters' dad is a freak."
"Yeah he's fucked up. He's worse than my dad." Stan thought for a moment, they were both in trouble. But Stan could go home to his stupid, annoying dad who's added bonus was a vast liquor supply that he didn't keep very good track of. Butters had to go home to that bullshit.
Maybe Stan should take the fall for this one, if only to spare Butters from home punishment. He would get back at him tomorrow on the playground. He was way more creative than Butters ever was. He needed to come with even stupider pun than butterscotch.
Stan turned to Craig. "You know anything funnier than a butterscotch sundae? Anything that can top marshmallow?"
Craig yawned and stretched. "A marshmallow topped butterscotch sundae? Nah you both are screwed."
"A lot of help you are Craig Motherfucker." Stan looked away again.
"Ah you're not as bad as Butters. Also a marshmallow is way better than a butterscotch sundae."
Stan's thoughts turned from insulting Butters to ponder what Craig said. Butters was the lowest of the hierarchy of their group. Stan and his friends didn't treat him as a full member, even Cartman outranked him. Why not let Butters have one day of acceptance even if it was at Stan's expense? He would spring back, like the fucking marshmallow he was. God things were screwy if Craig ended up being Stan's voice of reason. "I think I get what you're saying. If you squish down a marshmallow it will spring back into practically the same shape. But if you ignore an ice cream sundae it'll melt and be gross and most likely thrown away?"
"I'm not fat enough to get your stupid food metaphors, Stan. I was saying I want some fucking marshmallows right now. There has to be some left over from the science project, right?" Craig got up, flipped Stan off one more time before walking out the door.
Kyle would always be Stan's best voice of reason. Though Stan figured Craig probably always liked being in trouble since it cut into actual classroom time.
Stan looked to make sure he was completely alone before lifting his shirt and pinching his side. No rolls, Stan wasn't fat at all. But he assumed he gained a stigma from his group of friends, who he would admit, made being stuck in class or adventures a lot more fun.
Principal Victoria came out of her office and Stan quickly put his shirt back down. Butters was following her. "Butters told his side of the story, now it's your turn, Stanley. Don't worry boys; we've already informed your parents."
"You called my dad!" Butters said, putting his hands over his mouth.
Stan passed by, patting Butters on the shoulder. "It's okay. I'll try my best to help both of us. When it comes to dealing with your dad, just be a man."
"But my name doesn't rhyme with man, Stan!" Butters cried out.
"Oh right. I'm sorry. You'll be fine though." Stan kept his head down as he walked into the principal's office.
Half an hour later, Stan found himself waiting on the bench in the school office. After using all the skills he had to come up with a touching speech about what he learned, Principal Victoria still suspended him for half a day. Maybe he should've bent the truth a little bit more in his favor, but he was lucky to go home. Stan had returned to class briefly to be met with all his classmates staring at him as he grabbed his things. He knew the school called one of his parents to come pick him up.
He gave a small sigh of relief when his father walked in, though Randy didn't look too happy. He signed the forms to release his son out of school.
"I can't believe I had to leave work to come get you out of school for fighting. Get in, I already feel crappy enough." Randy said, as Stan followed him to the truck.
Stan opened the opposite door and climbed in. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. What's wrong, Dad?"
Randy put his head down on the steering wheel. "Stanley, one day you'll learn the pain of drinking too much the night before, but being forced to continue the next day as normal."
Stan buckled his seatbelt."Oh, you have a huge headache, you can't get the bad taste out of your mouth and no matter how much water you drink, you want to throw it back up? I know that feeling all too well...because I'm so in love and insecure and stuff."
"Yeah, why did you think I bargained with your principal to have you suspended for the rest of the day? You could've had detention for the rest of the weekm" Randy muttered as he started the car.
"So am I doing you a favor or am I still in trouble?" Stan asked.
"You'll be grounded for as long as I'm hungover, how about that?" Randy said, fiddling with the radio.
This could work in Stan's favor in more ways than one. "Oh, cool. So what do you do to get over hangovers, dad?"
"Water, good food, and a long nap in that order. I'm about ready for step two and Wendy's is the best hangover food. Wanna stop there before we go home?" Randy smiled at his son for the first time all day.
Stan frowned back. Goddamn, everything was coming back to bite him in the ass. He let out a sigh. "Yeah, dad. Let's get some Wendy's."
Stan could never depend on his dad when it came to something important, but when it came to stupid stuff like this, his dad could be brilliant. Stan had suggested they get butterscotch sundaes while waiting in the drive through. Randy said eating ice cream with alcohol still in your system was a recipe for disaster. So Stan got the exact same thing as his dad, a double bacon cheeseburger, a large fries and lemonade. Though he couldn't finish the whole thing. This was his first bad hangover.
Step three in Randy's hangover cure was amazing though. It felt so good to crawl back into bed after he hadn't wanted to move that morning. The added bonus was the heater was turned up all the way. Stan fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
And I feel that time's a wasted go, So where ya going till tomorrow? And I see that these are lies to come,would you even care?
A few hours later, Stan was awaked by his new ring tone. A song he got into because of Guitar Hero, despite Kyle's bias that any song from that game automatically sucked.
And I feel it.And I feel it.Where ya going till tomorrow?Where ya going with that mask I found?And I feel, and I feel when the dogs begin to smell her,will she smell alone?
Stan lay in bed, continuing to listen. He liked the guitar and was trying to get a grip on the lyrics. He hadn't heard it enough to get the deeper meaning, yet.
And I feel, so much depends on the weather.So is it raining in your bedroom?And I see, that these are the eyes of disarray.Would you even care?
But the tone of the song seemed a perfect match for days like this. Finally Stan checked the caller I.D. Butters Stotch. Great.
Stan sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. "Hi Butters, you sound too cheery to be talking to me."
"Well my dad did ground me, though he didn't beat me or anything so today was a'okay."
"That's nice." Wow Butters did have a pathetic homelife. Stan was like his savior at this point, or second coming of L. Ron Hubbard, again.
"The only thing he said is I can't hang 'round you no more since you're a bad influence and stuff."
Or maybe not. Stan wondered for a moment how Butters would fare in Craig's gang. "So then why are you calling me?"
"We have a project together, silly. We can't see each other outside of school so I was wonderin' if you wanted me to do the whole thing myself."
"No, no that's unfair." Stan thought for a moment. "I'll do the research and we'll go over it at school tomorrow."
"Okay, you're a real good friend, even if you're a bad influence on me."
"Thanks, I think. I'll do the research and all you have to do is type it. Just, for fucks sake, please proof read it yourself instead of only running spell check."
"Okay! Wow a whole night to myself while being grounded! What should I do?"
"Maybe you should treat yourself to some ice cream. Bye!" Stan hung up, considering going back to sleep or playing that song again.
Instead, he headed down stairs to get the rest of his food. He wanted to finish off his Wendy's cheeseburger before someone else got to it when he wasn't looking.