Disclaimer: All places and characters referenced to the television show South Park are property of Trey Parker and Matt Stone.
A/N: Special thanks to Heidi28 for this story idea.
"Negative 33°C… Jesus Christ…," Stan snuggled into his fleece blanket as he turned from his computer to the window and the snow falling beyond.
Multi-colored lights reflected off the snow lighting up the entire area. Most houses on Stan's block were decorated for the occasion: blue ice sickle lights on some, white or rainbow colored lights on others, large blow-up or wire-lit snowmen, reindeer, or Santas in yards, bushes and small trees wrapped with even more sparkling lights, decorations in windows, and wreathes on doors.
"Defiantly looks and feels like Christmas eve," Stan said aloud, smiling to himself.
"Oh, Randy! You shouldn't have!"
Stan turned to his door cocking his head in interest of the excitement in his mother's voice.
"These had to cost a lot of money!"
Stan had to see what was going on. He hopped out of his chair and headed to the kitchen.
"You're worth it, babe!" Randy smiled as Stan walked in.
"Oh, you!" Sharon embraced her husband.
"What's going on?" Stan inquired.
"Oh, your dad is just being the most romantic guy on the face of the planet right now!" Sharon playfully slapped Randy's arm.
"Uh… Alright... How so?"
"He bought two tickets for a week long cruise through the Caribbean!" She was giddy.
"Oh, cool!" Stan responded with approval.
"When do you guys leave?"
Randy grinned, "Tonight."
"Tonight?!" Both Sharon and Stan exasperated.
"Our plane leaves out of Denver in five hours!"
"But… Tomorrow's Christmas...,"Stan sadly reminded.
"Don't worry, son we'll celebrate when we get back," Randy reassured.
"But… -," he was cut off by Sharon, "What about the kids?"
"The kids?" Randy laughed nervously, "The kids are staying with one of their friends while we're gone… I already worked that out," Randy motioned to Stan with his eyes. "I need to go get the tickets out of the car, I'll be right back."
Stan followed his dad to the garage.
"What the hell, dad?!" Stan was livid.
"Stan, I know you're not too happy with me right now…"
"You're damn right I'm not too happy right now! That whole 'staying with a friend' thing was a blatant lie… You're leaving us alone for a week… On Christmas at that?! Does Shelly know about this?!"
Randy hushed him, "Yes, Shelly knows about this."
"Look," he began, "This is what I offered Shelly; if you two can make it for a week and not destroy the house or get yourselves killed, I will buy you anything you want for Christmas."
A wave of antipathy washed over Stan's face as he stared at his father.
"You'll be leaving your 10 year-old son and 13 year-old daughter home alone for the most family oriented holiday of the year… Doesn't that bother you even a little bit?!" He asked, dejectedly.
"You won't be completely alone… I mean, you'll have Shelly at least," Randy offered.
"I'd rather be completely alone for a week during Christmas than spend it with her in charge!" Tears of anger and sadness welled in his eyes as he turned away from his father.
"Nelson got me these tickets for an incredible price last minute… Please, Stan… Our marriage really needs this," Randy nearly begged for the cooperation of his son.
Stan wiped his tears on his sleeve and turned back to his dad.
"What did Shelly ask for?"
"Some ludicrously expensive pair of jeans and $100 for some other thing – I forgot what it was."
"And you're okay with that?" Stan knew his dad could be cheap sometimes.
"I said anything…," he reminded.
"I want a PS4."
"A PS4. Alright, I can make that happen."
"Really?" Stan was surprised.
"I told you; I said anything."
Stan eyed his dad skeptically, "If you don't get Shelly and I what you promised us when you get back, I'm going to tell mom that you bribed us and left us home alone for a week."
"I'm a man of my word, Stan. Okay? Gosh!" His eyes shifted nervously back and forth.
"I'm serious, dad. I will tell mom."
"Okay! Okay! I will! I swear!"
Stan nodded and returned to his room.
A few hours later, Sharon entered Stan's room with a suitcase in her hand.
"We're about ready to leave…," she leaned her bag against the wall and sat down next to her son on his bed.
"Don't worry, honey we'll have Christmas when your dad and I get back. I'll make us a nice dinner and we'll play games and watch movies and open presents, okay?"
"Kay…"
"Dad told me your kids' rides are going to be here soon… Make sure you're ready when they get here and remember to be a good boy."
Stan rolled his eyes, "Alright, mom."
"We'll talk to you in about a week," she hugged him, "Love you."
"Love you too," Stan responded as she walked out.
Shortly thereafter, he heard the front door shut and the car drive into the distance.
Stan poked around on his computer for about another hour.
His stomach growled.
He made his way back to the kitchen in search of food.
"Christ… The least dad could have done before ditching us for a week is made sure we had food," he said to himself as he rummaged through the cupboards.
"Shelly?" He asked innocently approaching his big sister in the living room.
"What do you want, turd?" She glared at him.
"Um… I'm hungry. Could you make us some food, please?"
"I ate before I came home cause I knew mom and dad were leaving."
"Well, could you make me something then? Please? All I know how to make are sandwiches and we're all out of bread…"
"Make yourself something else, then!" Her voice was rising in anger.
"But I don't know how to use the oven and we don't have anything for the microwave," he looked as his feet.
"That's too bad!" She stormed over to him, "Looks like it's time for bed!"
"But it's only 8:30… and I'm hungry…," Stan whined.
"I said go to bed, turd," she screamed as she punched him hard in the chest.
Stan collapsed to the ground gasping for air.
"What… The… Hell… Shelly…?!" He wheezed, tears streaming down his face.
"Ha! Crybaby…," she shrugged off her brother and resumed watching television.
After recovering on the floor for a few moments, Stan gingerly stood up and quietly walked back to his room holding his left ribs.
Hungry and bruised, he hit the lights.
"I'm sure this'll be the best Christmas ever," he chortled sarcastically as he fell face-first into his pillow.
Wincing at his tender side, he gave up for the night.