A/n: I would like to thank PimpedOutGreenEar for beta-ing this for me. Chapter two is in the works, so with out making this horribly long, here is chapter one... Short, of course. Next one will probably be either longer or shorter.
DISCLAIMER: I don't see the point in these things. I am obviously too young, and lacking certain male genitalia, to own South Park. There, that simple.
Go For It
Stan
There's something to be said about the chaos that is food service: the sizzle of grease, the rush of running water, the whir of fans, the cursing and drama that goes hand in hand with the work environment. Yes, Stan loved his job, there's no denying that fact, but sometimes he really, really wished he had called in sick.
"Stan, I'm sorry," Red started. "It's really not my fault."
"Oh god. Give me a second." He took a deep breath and prepared for the worst.
"Three Buffalo Dogs, Six Chili Cheese Burritos, Four Burritos, 10 Fries, Seven Onion Rings, Nine Corn Dogs, annnd, one Frito Pie." With every fryer item Red called off, Stan winced. Saturdays were the worst days ever.
Thank god Kenny was on Floater Duty today. Unlike Stan, Kenny was a god on fryers. In no time at all they had the massive order submerged in oil, and shortly after had everything wrapped and bagged. The process repeated itself throughout the day, and Stan couldn't have been happier for shift change. As it was, poor Craig had to stay until 5pm, when Token would haul his happy ass into work, which totally sucked for him. Stan waited outside the bathroom to change out of his work uniform, talking to Kenny through the door.
"Dude, you hear about the new kid in Mr. Carson's class?" Came Kenny's muffled question.
"What? Nah, dude. Since when did we get a new kid? Please tell me it's a super-hot chick, and not another nerd like that Kyle kid." Stan wasn't really that interested in the topic of conversation- Gossip never was his favorite thing to listen to. He could hear Kenny laugh, the sound of rustling fabric alerting Stan to his eminent exit. Sure enough a few seconds later, the bathroom door slid open.
"Well, he is super-hot, for a dude anyway. But his clothes scream total nerd. He even brought his graphing calculator on his first day," He pulled his hood up so that his next words sounded nothing like "I'm gonna wait in the car. Hurry up."
Now, Stan was never one to be…Social, as one might call it, but he did have friends. Well, a friend and multiple acquaintances. His week consisted of routine. School, work, and home, with minimal time for his love of all things auto mechanical during the week, and after work Saturday, he and Kenny would always hang around Starks Pond, the library, or the arcade. Mostly they hung out at the arcade 'til around seven, and cut loose from there when it got too crowded. Stan was happy this way.
That Saturday was no different, well, not really. It seemed as though the gossip and mystery surrounding the new kid in town followed them everywhere. It was all anyone could stand to talk about, and it was driving Stan mad. Who cares if the new kid has a super cute ass? And so what if he used to live here? Didn't anyone care about the important things going on around town, like the election next month for the next mayor? Or even the protest against the use of endangered species in circuses? It was all really stupid. At least, to him it was.
Kenny
Saturday was crazy. After leaving the arcade, Kenny went home to a trashed house, drunk parents, and a hungry little sister. After putting a few waffles in the microwave and setting the table, he called Karen in and made her a plate. Even at 13, she still refused to talk much. The only time she ever said anything was when she was talking to her big brother.
After cleaning up the kitchen and getting Karen a change of clothes, Kenny headed to bed intent on sleeping in on his day off. His intent however, would be ignored. At 8 the next morning he was called in to open, and as he grudgingly roused himself, he cursed the name that was Chef, and all that came with it. He had to wonder why his boss only ever called him in when someone couldn't make it. Well, if Kenny was anything, then it was reliable, and Chef knew it.
He dressed himself and found his work hat. After lazily tucking his hair beneath it, he made his way out the door. Drive-in Delight was only about a half-hour walk away, and by the time he'd made it there, Chef had already unlocked the back door for him and was sitting in his office. Kenny clocked in and washed his hands before getting started setting up the stations. It really sucked opening alone. It was far too quiet for the blonde's comfort, and he quickly got lost in thought. His mind drifted and wandered aimlessly for a while before he found his thoughts turning rapidly to the new boy.
This Kyle seemed so familiar. His bright red hair was eye catching, and Kenny couldn't help but be reminded of his old childhood friend, Kyle. When he and his friends were still in grade school, they'd known a boy with the same red, afro like hair, but for the life of him, Kenny couldn't remember what happened to him. He knew that the boy's younger brother, Ike Broflovski, was still around, along with his parents and nerd of a cousin, also named Kyle. It was like the boy had just dropped off the face of the planet.
Before he had time to continue down that path of thought, Bebe had made her way in and was in the bathroom getting ready for her shift. Now, something everyone knew about Kenny was his obvious status as the town man-ho, and he was damn proud of his reputation. What most, well, no-one, really, knew about was his gigantic crush on Bebe Stevens. It wasn't his normal "Oh god, s(he's) hot. I gotta tap that." crush. No, this was way, way bigger than that. The only person who knew of his dirty secret was Stan, and he definitely wouldn't say anything to anyone.
Of course just because he liked the girl didn't mean she was exempt from his usual shenanigans. If anything she was the target of more pranks and jokes than anyone else. This being the case, the poor boy wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to mess with the gorgeous blonde. Ever so quietly, Kenny crept towards the bathroom door. Careful, as not to alert her of his presence, he tossed the bathroom door open and shouted at the top of his lungs.
"BEBE! MY LOVE!"
He was met with an answering screech and a knee to his face. Falling gracelessly to his ass, he couldn't help but laugh, even as he felt blood begin to trickle around his lips from his throbbing nose. It wasn't exactly the reaction he was expecting, but with Bebe things were always a surprise.
"Oh, my fucking God, Kenny, what the hell? You scared the shit out of me," She sounded agitated, but as soon as she saw the blood her anger dissolved into concern. "Are you okay? I didn't break anything, did I? " She kneeled in front of him, her skirt lifting just enough for Kenny to get a good look at her pink smiley face underwear.
"Nice smiley thong ya got there Beb's." The shit-eating grin was quickly smacked off his face. As soon as it was knocked off, however, it was replaced with a look of feigned pain. Poor Bebe stood no chance against Kenny's lost, hurt puppy face.
"You're an asshole Kenny McCormick. A mean, horrible asshole." She quickly finished putting her hair up, stepped over the boys' prone form and headed towards the front of the store to unlock the carhop doors.
Things settled into routine as more people showed up for their shifts. Kenny was regulated once again to floater duty, and started cooking meat as soon as the restaurant opened for the day. Sundays were always fairly slow, so around 2:30 Chef cut him loose so that he could head home. Sighing in relief, he called Stan to see if he could swing by before his shift and take him home. He couldn't of course, but that was beside the point, so he took off walking.
His trip was silent, and as he cut through back yards he was once again lost in thought. Aimlessly traipsing through backyard play-sets and avoiding pets, he found himself behind the Broflovski home. Greeted by a familiar voice, he turned and noticed Ike sitting on his back porch, playing cards with Filmore.
"Hey kid, what's up?" The blonde asked, walking over towards the two boys.
"Not much, but guess what?" The Canadian seemed excited, something rarely seen on the stoic genius's face. Kenny shrugged and indicated for Ike to continue. "Kyle's back from Aunt Sherry's!"
"…Really?" Kenny was floored. Had Kyle really been with his aunt all this time? Why hadn't he ever called him? Or Stan? Or anyone for that matter?
"Yeah! Come on, Ma's making dinner. You guys can catch up while Filmore and I finish our game."
Stan
Monday was about as boring as watching a snail race. A 50 meter snail race, to be exact. School was sleep inducing for Stan, and work was no better. The logic behind having four people in the kitchen on a Monday evening would never dawn on him, because there certainly was never enough business to warrant having such a gross amount of people in such a small place. Boredom was rampant, and with boredom comes very, very bad ideas.
Wendy was sitting quietly at the side counter, flipping through a magazine and dipping potato chips lightly in ketchup when it happened. Stan saw the evil glint in Kenny's eye, and knew the blonde was up to something at least relatively scream–inducing involving the unsuspecting brunette girl. In a flash Kenny had scraped enough ice out of the ice-cream freezer to make a nice sized ball, jumped over the counter and smashed it down Wendy's neck and back. Chips went flying, and Kenny earned himself yet another bloody nose.
Kenny's injury count for the month:
6 punch induced nosebleeds.
1 sprained ankle, and
A busted sinus cavity.
A fairly low count, all things considering. By the time Wendy had gotten up, Kenny had already ran around the building and hid in the bathroom. Stan couldn't help but laugh when he was called in for backup, and helped an irate Wendy pry the door open. The following injury incurred with the athletic brunette feeling not even the slightest hint of guilt, and he really couldn't contain his laughter when shortly after Wendy exited the bathroom Kenny followed holding his nose and limping just the slightest bit.
It was as Stan was shutting down tables for the night that he noticed a little green beat up 2-door Ford Escort, circa 1996, pull into the back lot. To say that Stan was a bit of a car buff was like saying the quasi-emo boy only slightly enjoyed playing baseball- pure blasphemy. While his attention was on categorizing the vehicles' parts and outward damage, everyone else was paying attention to the driver who had just stepped out. He'd just turned back to finish putting up the pickles when he heard it.
"Oh, my Gawd, Wendy! Look! See, I told you he had the cutest ass!" Screeched Bebe, grabbing Wendy's arm and pointing at the lanky bundled up figure headed towards the front of the building.
Kenny made a noise in the back of his throat and smacked his forehead. He left the sink and poked Stan in his ribs, making him jump and turn toward his friend.
"Jesus Christ! Don't do that!" he yelled, smacking Kenny's hand.
"Dude, I gotta go talk to Chef about something, wait a bit before you head home?"
"Uh, sure. But what do you need to talk to Chef about? He made sure we had the same schedule this week, right?"
"Nah, dude. I wanted to see about getting a friend of mine a job." He grinned and walked off, leaving his dark haired friend slightly baffled and a little miffed on having to wait to go home.
