Brought to you by the people too lazy to think of a new name, we are sorta proud to present,
South Park: High School
by The New Directors
"No, I shall begin the great story!" screamed the great Director in the Sky.
"But you said I could!" Cried the other, quite obviously sexier, albeit more Jewish one.
"SHUT UP! Roll the intro!"
With a whir of delight the old-fashioned television sprang to life, the screen flashing with cheerful colors. A catchy tune began to play as children laughed and sang, and a bright school bus passed merrily by.
"This is gay. Clearly, this show needs some new direction."
"I suggested a hard rock theme, but nooo, the other all-powerful Director said no. So I don't get it. Its just because I'm more attracti-"
"Say, I've got a great idea! Why don't we begin the show with a hard rock theme!" the first bellowed powerfully, while cracking his ethereal god-knuckles.
"Alright. Brilliant idea. Now, SHUT UP! Get on with it!"
"I appreciate the Monty Python reference."
"JUST SHUT UP!"
A porno film began as hard rock played in the background. Two half naked ladies danced seductively on a pole as a third began to suck lightly on a yameka.
"This is from your secret stash of Jewish porn, isn't it?"
"... Maybe..."
"Disturbing. Alright, bring in Bon Jovi."
With an over-dramatic poof, the aging rock star fell in from the sky to perform the show's theme song.
Season 1, Episode 1 - Jew-Fly in My Eye, GOD DAMMIT!
Four friends stood by the bus stop in the snow as they had every other day for the past nine years. They chattered slightly and made small talk, wondering idly why the bus seemed to be running even later than usual. "The bus driver is high again," they all thought, waiting for Cartman to remark on the fact that he was Mexican.
"I heard there are some new kids coming into school this year," Stan noted in a bored tone of voice. They'd had a variety of kids come and go over the years, but most of them turned out to be even freakier than the rest of their freakish little town.
"Yeah, I hope they're not all fags like you guys," remarked Cartman irritably.
"You're one to talk, Cartman, you took a photo with Butters' dick in your mouth" Kyle replied mockingly.
"Ay! That was to make Butters look gay!" he snapped back defensively, his arms crossed over his crimson coat, his flab practically stuffing it to its brim.
"I heard we got some new Directors too," Kenny muttered through the pulled opening of his parka, his tousled blond hair barely visible.
"What the hell are Directors?" Cartman squealed inquisitively.
"Not sure..." Kenny mumbled. "I just heard one was a Jew."
"Hey, just like Kyle! I wonder if he's a cheap asshole too!" Cartman yelled far too loudly.
"Shut up, pussy, don't demean my people!" Kyle replied threateningly, a dark scowl cast upon his freckled features.
"Whatever, Jew," the racist coughed dismissively.
At that moment, the somewhat faded yellow bus pulled up to the stop, its door sliding open with a grating shriek.
"Hola," the friendly driver said, stopping a few feet to far. "I drive you to escuela, okay ninos?"
"Shut up, dirty Mexican Jew face," replied Cartman under his breath.
"Cartman, he's a dirty Mexican illegal immigrant, not a Jew. Jews have money," Stan replied. "If you're going to be an ignorant bitch, at least get your racism right."
"Screw you guys-" At that moment, a fly suddenly flew in the window. It landed right on Cartman's forehead, causing him to smack himself violently. "You dirty Jew-fly!" He hit himself with all of his might, pushing his flailing body backwards, bringing the fly down with him. "Mexican!" he screamed as he continued his epic battle.
"Dude, I think fat-boy finally lost it. He's being attacked by invisible minorities," Stan said with a wide-eyed expression, as the bus rumbled towards the school.
Suddenly, a car pulled out in front of the vehicle at massive speeds. It was the local police officer, Officer Barbrady. The new Java the Donut-Hut was selling Donuts and sex toys at half price. The mayor had ordered two dozen of either combination, which of course was the most urgent police business in the town.
The bus screeched to a halt, thanks to the effort put forth by the dirty Mexican. The fly flew forward, but, determined to eat off Cartman's succulent pink face, darted back into his eye.
"Maybe the fly was a Hindu in a past life come back to haunt him for his racism," Kenny said, underneath his seven layers of clothing to a point where no one heard him.
"Woah, esse, that hombre is in a mucho grande hurry." Thankfully Cartman was much too occupied with the fly crawling around inside his eye-socket to hear the interspersed Spanish words, or else they all might have been subjected to another round of merciless bigotry. In the meantime, he was occupied writhing on the floor of the bus clawing at his face, and shrieking in a disturbingly high pitch.
"Jesus, Cartman, what the hell is the matter with you, you sound like you're being raped by an elephant," Stan demanded through grated teeth, his hands covering his sensitive ears.
"GODDAMMIT!" he screamed, over and over again. "GODDAMMIT GODDAMMIT GODDAMMIT!"
"I'd say more like an airplane," Kyle added.
Finally Cartman's convulsions abated slightly, although his eye continued to switch at an astonishing pace, and he still let out a horrifyingly grating screech every once in awhile.
The others simply looked at each other and shrugged, turning to the wonder known as ear-buds to block out the sound of the screams.
The school loomed ahead, coming closer every few seconds. It appeared larger than they remembered, despite the fact each of them had grown since they'd last seen it - although some more horizontally than vertically, and the fact that it was the same school.
"Hey Stan, do you have any idea who our teacher will be this year?" Kyle asked hopefully, pleading with God inwardly that it not be their usual teacher, Mr. Garrison.
"I thought Kyle questioned the existence of God," the second, sexier Director asked the first.
"No, for the purposes of this tale, Kyle believes whole-heartedly in God. Mostly," replied the first, less sexy one. "Anyways."
"What the hell was that?" Kenny screamed to himself, the only one on the bus without earbuds to silence the deities above, but mostly Cartman, who was still screaming and complaining about the Jew in his eye.
At last they pulled up to the school building, which literally had not changed since the time they were four years old, seeing a variety of children in distinct age groups bustling inside. Although, they were all literally the same, except three feet taller. Their town was literally so small, there were some grades with no children in them.
Mr. Garrison sat at his desk as the teenagers filed into the room, and took the same desks as they had before, except now covered in swastikas and other random teenager approved stuff, such as hardcore porn and Japanese women giving baths to ponies.
As usual, Mr. Garrison was going to adhere to his policy of humiliating all new-comers by bringing them up to the front of the classroom on the first day to ensure their first social experience in a new environment was indeed a miserable one. For this occasion, he selected a short African American boy in the front desk.
"Whats your name?" the little puppet on his hand asked, prompting Kyle to raise his hand promptly in response.
"Mr. Garrison, don't you think we're too old for Mr. Hat, we're in the 9th grade!" he complained, as Cartman continued to claw his eye out behind him, muttering expletives and anti-Semitic remarks.
"DON'T INTERRUPT THE NEW KID YOU LITTLE BASTARD! Now, please continue," he replied, the last half of his sentence surprisingly more effeminate than his hellish growl.
"YES SIR!" The small teenager jumped out of his chair, marched ceremoniously to the front of the room, and pounded on his well-muscled chest."Marine Corps Private First Class Terrance Marshall reporting for class time, SIR!"
"Oh Jesus, just what this town needed, another red-neck with a star-spangled blindfold," Mr. Hat complained.
"Mr. Hat, please respect the boy while he's talking!" Mr. Garrison yelled at the inanimate puppet.
"Sir, permission to speak!" Private Marshall requested in a strangely formal bark.
"Well go right ahead, Terrance," disturbingly enough, as the boys watched Mr. Garrison, they almost thought he was slightly turned on by having someone act so subservient to him. Except for Cartman, who was still gasping and clawing at his eyeball.
"I've been sent here to further my education in the ROTC program. I am actually a military officer, and would appreciate recognition as such." He clicked together his heels in salute.
"He sounds like a pussy," Stan remarked to Kyle.
"Or like he's never gotten any," the Jewish boy replied with a suggestive smirk.
Just at that moment, time stopped for everyone in the room, except Kenny, who was able to see the world in stopped space.
"Have we decided if the prick is gay or not?" asked the sexier Director.
"For the last time, you're not sexier than me!" replied the other, less sexy one.
"Oh, so I'm here, wondering about complexities of our storyline and the future of this chapter, and you're still just jealous of my superior body. Thanks," stated the obviously more attractive of the two.
"What the fucking hell?" Kenny said inwardly as time stopped... stopping.
"Alright students, the next student we have to introduce today comes to us all the way from beautiful Canada," Mr. Garrison said, as if it was the most wonderful thing in the world since fags stopped being lined up and shot.
"Great, another faggot," Stan muttered to his best friend, but he was silenced by a small, glasses wearing girl making her way to the front of the classroom, her pale face partially obscured by a fuzzy purple scarf.
Kyle shot him a harsh look, to which he replied, "Okay, pardon me, a lesbian."
She twisted her toe into the ground nervously and averted her eyes from the crowd of bored looking teenagers in front of her. "Um... hi, I'm Lizzy."
With nothing more than that, she returned to her seat in a flash, leaving them all blinking in surprise that any human could move so quickly.
Her nervousness allowed not even Cartman time to scream in between her departure from the seat and her return to it. "Goddammit," he repeated, over and over, slowly losing momentum.
Mr. Garisson glanced down at his role sheet, reading off the next highlighted newcomer. "Will a Poopy Plumber please come up to the front?"
"Uh, Mr. Garrison, its Pippy Plumber..." the expression her face made her appear a more Pippy Tomato. "Its okay though..."
Stan ribbed Kyle in the side. "She's pretty cute, isn't she?" Her dark hair rested on her face gently, and her dark green eyes sparkled, ruined only by a pair of thick, black glasses in the middle. "I wonder if she goes for kosher beef, if you know what I mean."
Kyle almost punched him in the face, but decided against it, and instead turned and punched Cartman in the eye, leaving him only one crazy eye to see with.
He began jostling around the room, knocking down countless drawers and desks, screaming profanities at the top of his lungs. He found his own desk, and pulled out a long steak knife mysteriously hidden there by some unknown force.
"It was me!" snickered the more attractive of the two Directors.
"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS SHIT!" screamed Kenny, who grabbed the knife from Cartman and thrust it through his brain, certain of his own insanity.
"OH MY GOD, THEY KILLED KENNY!" Stan shouted as his friend's body fell limply onto his desk, blood dripping from the gaping wound in his skull.
"You bastards!" Kyle added, shaking his fist at the sky.
Cartman stopped being a fag for three seconds. "Actually, Kenny killed himself, guys."
"SHUT UP YOU FAG!"
The entire class jumped onto Cartman in unison and began to beat him senseless. In the middle of the fight, someone abruptly jabbed Cartman's eye, releasing the amazingly still intact Jew-fly to the world.
"OH MY GOD... FINALLY!" he screamed in euphoric bliss.
One particularly busty new chick was giving a presentation on herself, including a thirteen slide presentation detailing her life's story from the very beginning, including conception. Mr. Garrisson was the only one interested, as the fight continued.
"And that is how my name came to be Kalie Hooters." At that moment, she ripped off the jacket she was wearing to reveal a DD set of knackers.
The entire class removed themselves from Cartman's more or less pulverized body, and ran back to their desks, ready for the show. The girls were disgusted, but saw the way that the boys looked at her, and instantly all the girls broke up with their boyfriends and resolved to get breast implant surgery.
She sat down, much to the disappointment of the male part of the audience.
"Dude, I bet you five dollars I can bone her before the end of the year," Cartman droned with a thin string of drool climbing out over his lip.
"Shut the fuck up, fatass, you couldn't seduce your own right hand," Stan shot back in a mocking tone, his arms crossed.
"Oh, like you've ever gotten any before," Cartman replied sarcastically, a devious grin upon his sinister features, "I've had way more chicks than you two losers ever will."
"The only thing bigger than that lie is your ass, assmaster," Kyle laughed, as Mr. Garrison droned on about the TV show, Who's the Boss.
"Oh, well how about we have a friendly little competition then, Kyle? And just to be fair, I'll make it easy on you, since I'm such a player. If any of you three can get Kalie in bed, I owe you all twenty dollars, but if I can, you all owe me twenty dollars," he sneered, a dark light burning in his eyes.
"No way, that's stupid," Stan remarked, turning to glance at the girl and how as she leaned forward her ridiculously huge breasts pressed into her desk.
"Oh? Stupid, hm? Are you afraid-"
"No, to a fag like you?" Kyle interrupted Cartman, "We'll take your bet."
An evil smirk clouded the tubby boy's otherwise deceptively innocent features, the light of a plan forming shining in his bright blue eyes. "Very well then, Jew-boy. May the best man win, and by best man, I mean me."
How dramatic! Will Cartman succeed in coming up with a plan that will enable him to woo the ridiculously busty Kalie Hooters? Will Mr. Garrison ever actually TEACH them anything? Will Kenny find a way to stop hearing the voices of the narrators in his head? Where did all these questions come from? Why should you care? Tune in to the next exiting episode of South Park: High School to find out!