Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.
A/N: O_______O...It's all about Stan today!!! Some slash and femmeslash is present.
The premise: Stan wakes up to find himself in a strange alternate universe...and it frightens him. He's probably kinda OOC, although how should one act when they wake up living a world with everything all switched up?
The very instant he woke up that cold, winter morning, Stan Marsh could tell that something was extremely off.
For one thing, his entire room had somehow been painted inky-black overnight, with various skull-like figures and posters of heavy metal/emo bands hanging the walls. The heater had been removed, making the room almost unbearably chilly. Even weirder, his bed had somehow been replaced with a simple pillow, and his pajamas were now a bondage suit. The room stank of burnt incense, and a blood-stained knife rested nearby. There were poetic novels and CDs lying strewn all over the floor. Beside his pillow was an empty box of what had apparently once held powdered cocaine. His mind swimming with mind-numbing confusion, Stan stood up and clutched his head tightly in his hands.
"W...WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?!!!" Stan screamed at the top of his lungs.
At that instant, the bedroom door swung open, and Sheila Broflovski, his friend Kyle's portly mother, came charging in.
"What, what, what?!! What's going on in here?! Stan...are you alright?!" The red-headed woman cried, waving her arms about wildly. She seemed to not pay any mind to the strange scene playing out before her. Stan blinked a few times, and rubbed his eyes to make sure he was seeing things. Unfortunately, he wasn't.
Still a bit dazed by his immense headache, Stan gave a slight nod. "I'm...I'm fine...I just woke up from a bad dream...that's all..."
Sheila sighed in total relief, and wiped the sweat from her brow. "Oh, that's good...now hurry up and get dressed, my little angel! Kyle and Ike are already having breakfast downstairs!! We can't have you missing school now!!!" And with that, she spun around and ran off down the hall, leaving poor Stan even more lost than before.
'Kyle...and Ike...? What are they doing here? Did she just say I'm her little angel? What the hell is going on?!!'
Deciding to change out of this weird bondage suit, Stan walked over to his closet, and opened it in hopes of finding his usual attire. However, all he could dig up were black T-shirts, black jeans, black sweatshirts, black hoodies, black shorts, black gloves and black thongs. It got even worse when he found a black whip and a set of black chains, along with a black gag-ball.
"Goddammit, this is just getting weirder and weirder..." Stan muttered under his breath. Tossing on the jeans, hoodie and gloves, Stan exited his room and made his way downstairs. The delicious smell of pancakes soon reached his nostrils, and he hurried his pace. However, the moment he entered the kitchen, he soon regretted even coming out of his room, for what he saw nearly made his brain explode from sheer confusion.
Kyle Broflovski, his best friend in the whole wide world, was sitting at the table, helping himself to some pancakes...while dressed like a German Nazi. He had discarded his large green hat, and his puffy red afro stuck out in full view. The swastika band was clearly visible on both of his sleeves, and he was busy reading a pamphlet on genocide as he ate at a moderate pace. In the chair next to him sat Ike, wearing the same attire. Neither Sheila nor Stan's mother Sharon said anything regarding it. They all seemed happily oblivious to it all.
Stan, however, was almost speechless. "...Dude..."
Glancing over her shoulder, a wide smile formed on Sharon's lips as she exclaimed, "Ahh, Stanley, you're finally awake!! Take a seat at the table, and I'll serve you up a nice batch of pancakes, okay?"
Kyle closed his pamphlet, and placed it down on the table. "Ah, good morning to you, my dear brother Stanley. You slept well, I hope? You were up all night playing that blasted emo music, if I recall..." For some reason he had a slight British accent.
"Yeah, I guess I slept-" Stan began, but he instantly did a double-take upon realization, "WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?!!! DID YOU JUST CALL ME YOUR 'DEAR BROTHER'?!!!"
Kyle shrugged like it was no big deal. "Of course. We've been brothers ever since our mothers married a few years back. Don't you remember? You started cutting yourself in the middle of the reception...we had to drive you to the hospital, and you kept singing Linkin Park lyrics underneath your breath...it was magical, to say the very least..."
Ike nodded. "I POOPED MEH PANTS...MUDDAFUGGA!!"
Stan's mouth fell wide open, and his entire body grew numb. For a moment, he was sure he was about to black out. The entire room seemed like it was spinning, and a horrible, horrible revelation came upon him. He swallowed the bile rising in his throat, and his voice grew louder and louder with every passing word he spoke. He couldn't stop himself anymore. "Oh...oh my god! Our...our moms...they're...they're married...TO EACH OTHER?!!! THAT'S...THAT'S FUCKING DISGUSTING!!! WHERE'S MY DAD?!! WHY ARE YOU DRESSED LIKE A NAZI?!! WHY AM I APPARENTLY A GOTH KID NOW?!! JUST WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON AROUND HERE?!!"
Suddenly, Stan's insane rant was cut short by a powerful slap across the face. It was his mother, Sharon. Sheila came rushing into the room, and gasped.
"Stanley Marsh-Broflovski!!" The brown-haired woman exclaimed in great disappointment, putting her hands on her hips, "How dare you use such language in this household, especially after just waking up like this!!! And how dare you insult my marriage like that!! You told me you would always accept me no matter what I did, and now here you are, spouting hate speech about homosexuals like your other mother and myself!!! What has gotten into you this morning, young man?!!!"
Stan blanched; he suddenly felt terribly guilty, even though he still had absolutely no idea what was going on, and what he said couldn't really qualify as 'hate speech'. He rubbed the red mark on his cheek in pain as he quietly replied, "I'm...I'm sorry...mom...I...I'm just a bit delirious from all the cocaine I snorted last night...sorry...sorry...I wasn't thinking straight when I said all those things just now...I'm sorry..."
"...Really? You better behave, Stanley...I don't want to get another call about you shooting a student in the foot again at school..." Sharon asked, raising her eyebrows in suspicion.
Stan nodded, amazed that he had apparently done something like that in the past. "Yes...I promise I'll be good..."
"Good..."
Sharon turned her back to her son, and made her way back to the stove, where a frying pan still had several pancakes sizzling on it. "Alright," she said, suddenly cheery once again, "Take your seat, and I'll put some pancakes onto a plate for you..."
With no choice but to play along for now, Stan took his seat beside Kyle, who had gone back to reading his pamphlet. The black-haired boy wanted nothing more than for things to return to normal, especially when Shelly suddenly came dancing into the room, her braces mysteriously absent. She had a huge grin on her face, and she practically glowed with loving kindness, much to Stan's horrid disgust. It didn't help that she was actually really attractive-looking now, either.
"Ah, good morning, Shelly!" Sharon exclaimed, tossing her eldest daughter a warm smile.
Shelly planted a tiny kiss on her mother's cheek. "GOOD MORNING, MOTHER!!! Today is going to be so WONDERFUL, I just know it!!"
"...That's nice, honey..."
Then, Shelly twirled over beside Stan and kissed him as well. "And how is my DARLING LITTLE BROTHER this morning?!!" She screamed into his ear.
Stan fought the urge to puke again. "I'm...I'm fine..."
"OH, I'M SO HAPPY!!!" Shelly did a little tap-dance, and ran off into the next room, disappearing as quickly as she had appeared onto the scene.
Kyle rolled his eyes. "Attention whore..." he muttered under his breath.
'Goddammit...just what the hell is going on here?! I've been asking that question over and over, and yet I'm still as clueless as ever...did something happen last night while I was asleep? Maybe I fell into some kind of worm-hole or something...but how could I end up in a worm-hole when I was in my bed the entire time? Unless...I started sleep-walking, and I fell into the worm-hole!! No...it still doesn't make sense. God, my head feels like it's gonna split open...I'm just so frickin' confused...I'll have to try and figure things out later, maybe when I'm at school or something...' Stan wondered, burying his face in his hands.
Suddenly, a loud beeping shattered the silence, and Kyle pulled back his right sleeve to reveal a wristwatch. The watch had a picture of Adolf Hitler in the middle, with his arms acting as the watch's hands. Staring at it, a wide, maniacal grin spread out on Kyle's lips. It frightened Stan to see his best friend acting like this...it really did.
"Ahh..." The red-haired boy sneered, "It's almost time to go out to the bus stop, where I shall confront my most hated foe, and spite him for everything he's worth...which isn't much!!"
Stan immediately realized who Kyle was talking about. "...You're talking about Cartman, right?" he sighed.
"But of course!! Glad to see that there's SOMETHING you haven't seemed to have forgotten!!! Yes, I will lay the beat-down on that pathetic little Jew fag!! He's had it too good for too long, I tell you!!!"
'...Cartman's the Jew, now? This'll be interesting to see...maybe I should stick around in this weird, parallel world for a little bit longer...' Stan thought, sensing the incredible irony behind all of this.