DISCLAIMER: I don't own South Park, but/or *insert witty comment here, cuz I'm to lazy to come up with one.*
"Class, we're goin' on a field trip!" Those few words send the entire senior class of South Park High School into excited pandemonium. The previously bored classroom is now chattering happily. It's almost graduation time, and everyone is feeling stressed; a care-free field trip is what they all need.
"Now, I can't tell you where we're going, but I know you'll all love it!" Mr. Garrison continues. "I already talked to all of your parents, and we're leaving today!"
In the back of the classroom, a certain Kenny McCormick and Eric Cartman are muttering sinisterly. "Okay, so how are we gonna screw with him this time, Kenneh?"
The blonde frowns thoughtfully, and replies in a muffled voice, "I dunno. The bastard didn't even tell us where we're going."
"It could be anywhere. So, I was thinkin' if it's at the zoo, we should find the peacock, and make it stalk him or somethin'. Mr. Garrison hates peacocks," Cartman laughs evilly.
"Or we could just lock him in a cage with a bear," Kenny snickers.
"I can't believe you two," Kyle Broflovski turns around to glare at the hooded boy and his racist friend. "We've known about this trip for not even two minutes, and you ass-cakes are already finding a way to ruin it again!"
"More sand in your vagina, Jew-rat?" Cartman taunts, grinning.
"There is no- uh, I mean, argh- I DON'T HAVE A VAGINA!" the flustered day-walker shouts.
"Stop it, fatass," Stan Marsh, possibly the only sane person in a five-mile radius, joins in the conversation.
However, the insult no longer got to Cartman as it would have before. The formerly-fat teenager was finally what he had claimed to be his entire life: big boned.
But before he could reply, Mr. Garrison yells sternly, "Hey retards! Quiet down back there, or you bastards won't be coming with us!"
"Yes, Mr. Garrison," Cartman smiles sweetly, as the back of his mind tries to find even more sick ways to torture their poor teacher.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Tweek Tweak anxiously whispers frantically to an unemotional Craig Tucker. "Oh my God! They're ack taking us somewhere! Gah! And they won't tell us where! Oh Jesus, what if they ngh wanna kill us? Or rape us? Or rape our gah dead bodies? Too much pressure, IT'S TOO MUCH PRESSURE!" Out of everyone in South Park, Tweek was the least stable. And that's saying something. Unfortunately, Tweek hadn't had any coffee today, making his trembling even worse.
"Come on, Tweek, chill out. They're teachers, and our parents already signed off on it. How bad could it be?" Craig sighs in a monotone.
"But what if ack the field trip is a fluke? What if they gah just make us all get on a bus and drive around ack forever? Oh, Jesus! But the bus isn't ngh really a bus, it's a high tech space-ship, and-" Craig's gloved hand over Tweek's mouth interrupts something that sounds strangely like 'room with a moose.'
"Tweek," the other boy sighs exasperatedly, "We're just going to the zoo. Or the museum. The worst place we could possibly go is the volcano. I mean, we're in South Park. What could happen?"
"Oh, Jesus! You're right! Gah! Do you ack know how much goes on in South Park? I swear, there was an elephant in my ngh backyard las night! And the volcano? What if we do go there? What if ngh someone falls in? Or what if its some sort of ack ancient ritual, and we all have to be sacrificed? Gah! It's too much pressure, man!"
As Tweek rambles on and on, Craig's rests his head on his desk. This is gonna be a long trip, he thinks to himself.
Next to them is Bebe Stevens and Wendy Testaburger, gossiping in shrill voices; and Clyde Donovan and Token Black, who are arguing over Oreo's versus Chips Ahoy.
"Dude, Oreo's are black and white. You're black! It fits!" Clyde shouts.
"That is sooo racist," Token rolls his eyes. "Chips Ahoy tastes better anyways."
"You're wrong wrong and wrong," the taco-lover crosses his arms stubbornly. "Saying that is like... it's like saying Mr. Mackey's on top."
"Dude. Do not even go there."
"Children! Shut your freakin' mouths! ...Yes, Kyle?" Garrison looks pointedly at the Jewish boy with his hand in the air.
"Oh, um, I was just wondering, where are we going?" he asks shyly.
The teacher replies, "That is for me to know, and you to find out later. Much later."
Somewhere in the distance, ominous thunder begins to roll.
"Hey! That's not fair," Kenny mutters, elbowing Cartman in the side. The class has just gotten on the bus, and it's beginning to pull out of the school. In the back of the bus, the pair is competing on their PSP's, and Cartman is losing, as usual.
"All is fair in love and video games, poor boy," the racist sneers.
"Wow, Cartman. Only you could turn poetry into crap, fatass," Stan sighs from the seat in front of them, rolling his eyes. Ever since he joined the Goth kids (for a brief period of time) in 4th grade, he's had a profound appreciation for poetry.
"Just shut up and go make out with your boyfriend, emo boy," Cartman rolls his eyes.
Stan shouts, "I'm not emo!" at the same time Kyle yells, "He's not my boyfriend!"
These statements are mostly true. Even though Stan had gotten over Wendy a while ago, he has adapted the style of the Goth kids, including the super-long-bangs-in-face hair. And Kyle... well, let's just say the Jewish boy has become much more fond of his Super Best Friend... at least, more than he would care to admit.
To these responses, Kenny gives a muffled laugh. "Suuure," he grins beneath his hood.
Towards the front end of the bus, Tweek and Craig are being forced into breaking up Clyde and Token's argument.
"Okay you two, close your eyes and open your mouths," Clyde commands.
"Don't worry, it's not gonna be anything gross. We're not Cartman," Token assures their guinea pigs.
"Okay," Craig agrees in his apathetic voice.
"Ack! Craig! What if gah they feed us, I don't know, ngh baby monkeys or something! I CAN'T HANDLE THE PRESSURE!" the coffee addict spazzes.
"Aw, come on Tweek, Craig's gonna do it. I promise we won't hurt you, we just need you to help us decide something," Token pleads.
"It's the most important decision in the history of man!" the taco-lover exaggerates.
"Well, I guess i-if Craig thinks it's okay..."
"Cookie number one," Token announces as his opponent hands them each a cookie. This was the Oreo, Clyde's favorite.
"Uh huh," Craig murmurs after he finishes chewing.
"Now cookie number two," the African-American grabs two Chips Ahoy cookies from his own backpack.
"Gah!" the spaz shouts randomly.
"So which one was better?" the brunette demands, practically exploding with excitement.
"Cookie one," Tweek immediately approves, sending Clyde into a spastic happy dance.
"I didn't like either," Craig replies, bored.
"Which one did you like least?" the chocolate-colored boy tries a different approach.
"Cookie one," the uninterested teen sighs.
"Ha! Now we're tied!" Token laughs.
"That makes no sense!" an overly-dramatic Clyde shouts towards the ceiling.
AN: Haha I'm baaaack XD. Okay, so idk if I wanna continue this one, or even write it for that matter. ...Yeah, I really wanna write it, but it's gonna suck, so... GAH! I feel like Tweek :D And don't ask about the name, I have no idea xD So, yeah, as the description says, there's gonna be a few pairings in here, and I want you people to help me decide... I was thinking Keneric, Creek, Style, Tyde, and MAYBE some Webe, idk, I'm not that good at femmeslash. And seriously, was the cookie part not seriously great? Cuz in my mind, it was half adorably hilarious and half complete crap. Just wanna know what you think. And yes, I know only like 2 people read my fics, but, y'know :3