Disclaimer: I do not own South Park or their characters, Matt and Trey do.

The characters and events in this fanfiction -even those based on real people- are entirely fictional.

All characters are written...poorly. The following fanfiction contains coarse language and due to its content it should not be read by anyone…

Rated T for language, sexual content, bad original characters, and incoherent rambling

Enjoy!

PART I

Chapter 1:

French Fries

The ink of Ace's pen had begun to run out, fading into colorless valleys in the lined paper of her honors chemistry notebook. Without her trusty pen, named Pencil, she had no way of taking the notes that she hadn't even bothered to start in the first place. Despite lacking a productive use for Pencil, she still needed its ink back to finish the garbage doodle she had already began. Leaving it unfinished would be a mistake, allowing it to haunt her for the rest of the day. Green eyes snuck glances at the clock, watching time move forward, limiting her time to finish. Desperation washed over her as she roughly shook Pencil and drew empty circles at the top of the page. It still refused to come back to life. There were only eighteen minutes left in class and Ace looked down in defeat, the doodle's hollow eyes glaring at her, begging for finished legs. To Ace, this monster was the one that hid underneath her childhood bed, followed her around, and lurked in the darkness of an open closet at night. It didn't matter that she was almost seventeen, the creature still stayed with her. Sometimes the nightmares that she had as a child would still interrupt her blissful sleep. The only difference between now and then were the fading details and how it no longer felt as real as the first. Ace could barely recall it, but it still stayed with her like a distant memory. "Shit," she mumbled, her words a roar over the still classroom. Lifting up Pencil, she aggressively shook it another time like an earthquake trying to pry open the earth underneath an ocean of ink. There was only hope for a tsunami of ink that would come pouring out.

"Ace." The sound of her own name startled her, causing the girl to sit upright and drop Pencil, allowing it to crash against the floor. "Are you even paying attention?" A man, with short stature and the posture of someone who took themselves way too seriously, called out to her from in front of the Smart Board. Ace had always felt bad for the neglected, pristine white board that lived underneath it. All it wanted was love, but instead it got ignored and turned away fro something shiny and new. It didn't deserve the life it was given and she wished she could steal it away to give it love. Nothing belonged in the shadow of another. "I don't understand how you think you'll be able to pass this class, or even graduate for that matter, if you can't answer a question that simple." The white board neglector rested tan hands on pleated, black pants as if he was a white mom telling her child that they had better do something this instant. All white moms seemed to say and do that.

Honestly, Ace had forgotten that , her teacher, had even spoken to her. What was he even talking about? Did he say something about a question? She couldn't remember, yet still felt a twinge of annoyance. Her eyebrows furrowed, recalling something about him calling her stupid. Exhaling heavily, she combed her hands through the dark, messy curls that clung to her scalp in thick strands. They were starting to get too long. The only reason she resisted to cut them was because they covered her nipples. This meant they were mermaid qualified and plenty of normal, sane people pretended to be a mermaid. Glancing to the side, she met the eyes of an insanely tall boy, Craig Tucker, who sat at the lab table to her right. Ace liked to believe that he pretended to be a mermaid too. She wondered if he realized his secret had been exposed as he glanced away from her, pale cheeks painted with a pinky glow. "Ace," The teacher called again, his voice stern, booming over the now restless class. It was the thunder before the lightning and she was guaranteed to bring the rain. Not replying to him just guaranteed to make things worse for her, and she had wanted to avoid a flood.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." She wasn't.

"Then," Mr. Dickson began to speak, the words effortlessly falling from his lips and onto Ace's desk. His dark eyes were condescending as they peered down at her. Under attack, she leaned forward to hide her doodles from him, her arms a blockade. Thanks to her older brother, Cael, she was able to not only cover the doodle, but the oversized sleeves of the hand-me-down hoodie covered the entire notebook. Her desk was covered in black rolling hills, engulfing her arms, hands, and invisible notes. "What did I just say?" He leaned down towards her, eyes narrowing as if to be intimidating. Instead, it made her wholeheartedly believe that his surname fit him. The origin was probably something like "son of Dick" and apparently the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree. Hopefully, the tree at least knew a thing or two about personal space.

"About what," Ace sighed, "About me being dumb?" She then huffed, raising one side of the blockade to waggle pushed up cloth, her fingers being kept hidden. "Well, if it wasn't about me being dumb and never ever graduating, which I think you mentioned, then…" Green eyes glimpsed to Craig and then back to the teacher, trying to remember what he said. Maybe, if Pencil had been as trusty as she once thought, she wouldn't have completely ignored the lecture. "I lied. My bad." The corners of Ace's shapeless lips twitched upwards, evolving into a toothy grin. From her right, a snicker left Craig's mouth. The rest of the class, much like him, was paying attention for once. It seemed to be a rule here: Nobody pays attention unless some kid gets yelled at or in a fight. Ace felt like the entertainment in this room.

"Hey, don't encourage her! This is damaging behavior; not paying attention will make her GPA suffer and then she'll never get into a good college-"

Bebe Stevens snorted from the other side of the room. Ace didn't need to glance over to know who it was, a grimace replacing her former grin. Just thinking about her made her skin crawl. The two girls had never had the best relationship, seeing one another as leeches that refused to leave. It wasn't necessarily either of their faults; the relationship was doomed long before they met.

Ace forced herself to look at Bebe, watching her begin to talk, thin eyebrows raised, "As if she would get into a good college anyway. You can't get a scholarship for being a fucking slut, so she's out of luck." Leaning forward on her stool, her blonde curls pressed against the black lab table. For an instant, she met Ace's eyes. Gradually, Ace's face began to redden and she quickly looked away, staring down at the cloth hills.

"You're one to talk." Ace tried to turn into a pufferfish, her cheeks puffing out to make herself bigger, more threatening. Instead, she could be better recognized as a pouting child, one who was just criticized on a shitty coloring job. Then again, a child could probably get their pen to work.

"Your comebacks suck as much as your mouth does."

"Yeah, like calling someone a slut is soooo original. Go back to 2003, dick cheese."

"What the fuck is a dick cheese-" Bebe's confusion, due to Ace's awful job of an insult, was cut off by Mr. Dickson stomping his foot. If tomatoes had bulging veins, he would look exactly like one. Sadly, those don't exist yet.

"That's enough! That language isn't appropriate for school! Please, can the two of you just be a little mature? I don't care why or how much you hate each other, you still can't be doing this in the middle of class every day. It's taking away from the other students who care about their education." Mr. Dickson took a deep breath, allowing a creamy color to flood back to his face, washing out the red. A dainty hand gestured out to everyone else in the room, all of which couldn't care less about what he had to say about the periodic table. Bebe rolled blue eyes, resting a rosy cheek against a loose fist.

Craig leisurely rose a snow colored hand, glancing upwards at the teacher with icy eyes. His tone was weary and hesitant once he finally spoke, "Didn't you call her stupid?" A long sleeved jacket clung tightly to his arms, refusing to fall. It was rare to see him without long sleeves.

"All three of you are getting detention." Mr. Dickson walked over to Pencil, aggressively picking it off of the floor and shaking it at her. "No discussion." Pencil was slammed down onto the table with it's abuser standing back, looking at each one of them. Ace was too busy scrambling to grab the pen, trying to write with it again, to notice his scowl. Eureka! Pencil had been resurrected! She was so in awe with the accomplishment that she didn't mind the detention. Besides, she constantly got them and staying in that classroom was better than going home. Once, Ace had a teacher watching them who allowed for them to play card games as long as they didn't talk. That was a time to cherish and that teacher would always live on in her heart as a true hero. One day, she'd be a true hero too. Before becoming one, of course, she'd have to get through detention on Thursday. She hoped she could play silent bullshit again.

Bebe was flabbergasted, eyes wide. "What? This is her fault! I shouldn't be getting detention for her and her stupid boyfriend-"

"He's not my boyfriend," Ace interjected.

"Whatever! As I was saying, I shouldn't get detention for them being so immature. God, she's so damn annoying! Honestly, If she was dead, I'd throw a party because then she couldn't get me into trouble all the fucking time. If the purge was real, I'd totally kill her." Bebe took in a deep breath, finishing her rant with a red face. Her arms crossed underneath her chest, pressing against the red fabric of her sweater.

"Shut up, Bebe. Nobody likes a villain's soliloquy," Ace mumbled. Her eyes shifted down to her paper, watching her hand try to finish the doodle that caused this. Did Bebe really want her dead? Ace briefly stopped drawing. She didn't want Bebe dead, no matter how angry the blonde made her. No matter how much she blamed Bebe's mother for what happened to her parents marriage, she still wouldn't want Bebe dead. In a way, she even craved Bebe's approval. Gentle creaking to her right brought her from her thoughts, a slender hand touching her shoulder. She flinched.

"Hey, the purge was an awful movie." Craig gave her an awkward, yet reassuring smile. Ace wasn't sure if it was supposed to make her feel better, but it did. A giggle passed her lips, eyes glancing from him to the teacher. Mr. Dickson seemed to have just given up, going back to writing on the smart board with the same blue hue he could apply to the white board. Never trust anyone who prefers a smart board over a precious, precious white board.

Soon, only five minutes were left in class and Kenny McCormick hadn't bothered to show up. Ace thought nothing of it when they first got to class; it was normal for him to be late. It wasn't particularly unusual for him to skip class either. He was here today, she knew that much. As usual, this morning Craig had picked the two of them up from their respective homes. He also had to drive him home, so it wasn't like him to just not tell either of them when he was leaving early. Ace hadn't heard of or from him since second period, Algebra II. Just as she began to worry about something happening to him, the short teen made a loud appearance.

Kenny banged on the shut, locked door of the classroom. She couldn't see him on the other side, but he had such a particular way of knocking on things that it was impossible not to know that it was him. Mr. Dickson strutted over to the door and threw it open, like a starved child who just found out that his parents had remembered to get groceries. Kenny slid into the room in a futile attempt of trying to sneak pass him. The boy was a whopping five-foot-seven (while having his ego boosted by still managing to be five inches taller than Ace) and the best way to describe him was the opposite of threatening. His hair was a fluffy, blonde mess and his face was littered with freckles. If she saw him in a dark alley, she'd assume that she could take him down. "Sorry, dude." Kenny grinned, showing the molar he lost in a fight with Craig. Ace always wondered if physical fights were common among good friends.

"The bell rings in five minutes." An exasperated Mr. Dickson began to regret his decision to teach high school students at twenty-eight. As he paused between words, he rested a hand on the side of his face, raising dark eyebrows at Kenny. "I'm honestly surprised that you even bothered coming to class."

"Same. I wasn't sure if being late or absent was worse, so I decided to just be late. Gotta save those absent days, right?" He shrugged, glancing around the gawking room. Their eyes were pressed to him as if he were a celebrity on the red carpet, following his every moment, waiting for him to mess up.

"I'm not sure if it matters either way at this point, kid. You're getting detention, it's not acceptable to come this late into class. I'm glad you decided to join us, but don't bother unpacking your stuff." White board hater rubbed his eyes and walked over to his own desk. His dainty hand went back to being thrown around, swatting at the warm air. "Oh, you'll be with the usual crowd. Don't worry about feeling left out."

Kenny never had to worry about feeling left out. Ace wouldn't let him. He was much more fun than Craig was, and Craig wanted to do nothing but keep her from doing the fun stuff. In a way, he reminded her of the angel on her shoulder, telling her what not to do. Kenny, on the other hand, was more of the devil. If she wanted to go vandalize something, he was the first to agree with her, Craig was the last. In the end, the dark haired boy always ended up tagging along. He never said it was because he wanted to, he never even said why. If Craig wasn't willing, what was his reasoning? Ace sighed, thinking about the two of them had kept her from finishing the doodle. As the lunch bell rang, it was declared an amputee.

On the way to lunch, Ace weaved her way through the crowd. Constantly, she was worried about one of the taller kids stepping on her, which was why she usually walked with Craig. He was about six-foot-four and kept her from getting hurt. (It's not like he could get stepped on anyway.) He really was some kind of angel. Sometimes, she wondered if Kenny would have been tall, too, if he hadn't of been poor. Kids who grew up poor always seemed to be shorter, at least to Ace. Cael had been lucky that he grew up too fast. Six-foot-one was a long ways away from Ace's five-foot-two. Her best friend, Litzy Wellz, always told her that she was malnourished… Whatever that meant.

The lunchroom was cacophonous. If you were lucky, you could hear the people around you, but probably not. Sitting down at her usually table, in her usual seat, she completely dismissed the lunch line. There were only one person at their table, allowing her to realize that she left Craig and Kenny behind in the chemistry classroom. Clyde Donovan, the only person there, raised his hand, slowly, as if to say hello, his stubby fingers stretching slightly out from one another. He had art before lunch, which was in the closest hall to the cafeteria, allowing him to be here before everyone else. Clyde told Ace once that he only took Art because of some girl he acclaimed as "hot". She didn't realize that he was talking about his now current girlfriend, Aussie Jackson, until they started dating. Speaking of which, she wasn't sure why he wasn't sitting with her today.

"Yo, where's Craig," Clyde paused, "And Kenny." With pink lips barely agape, he looked like he was about to say more. Ace wasn't sure how to admit that she left them behind. She felt guilty, like a mother who left her children in Walmart and every time they bring it up, she'd tell them to shut up and quit lying. Most mothers did that, right? "I gotta tell Craig what Tweek started spewing today. The kid barely ever comes to school anymore but when he does, man. Oh god does he fuck me up." Clyde's body began to shake with laughter, one hand clutching his stomach, the other hitting the table. Ace wanted to tell him to laugh quieter; the table next to them was starting to stare. They were only freshman, but it still made her nervous. She gulped and looked back at Clyde, who began to wipe tears away from his eyes.

"Isn't Tweek that twitchy kid?"

"Yeah, the buttons on his shirt are never buttoned right," another voice besides Clyde's spoke, the owner taking his place at the table. He had a slight Australian accent and she could smell his cologne from the other side of the table. Ace didn't really mind though; she would much rather someone smell of cologne than of cat piss and semen. Kenny smelled like cat piss and semen.

Clyde nodded in agreement with Asher Jackson, the Australian who wore a lot of cologne. His family had moved here during ninth grade. Apparently, it had something to do with his mother being an extremely well known surgeon and Kenny almost dying. It got a lot of publicity and for some reason they decided to stay here. Ace partially had Asher to blame for Bebe hating her, but it wasn't really his fault. She always wondered how Asher felt knowing that his twin was really good friends with Bebe, who was also both his and Clyde's ex-girlfriend. "He's always been like that, bro." Clyde had calmed down enough to shove a fry into his mouth mid-sentence, not bothering to finish eating before speaking, "Craig and I used to be really good friends with him. I'm still not sure what exactly happened, but" Two more fries followed the first one. Asher crinkled his nose at him, glancing down from his tray to back at his face. "We aren't anymore."

A few minutes passed by in silence after Clyde spoke, like giving a moment of silence for their dead friendship. Nobody felt like talking. The two were too amazed by how many fries Clyde managed to shove into his mouth at once to say anything. The moment of silence was broken by Kenny and Craig taking their seats at the table. Craig glanced over at her and then down to the bare table in front of her. "Where's your food?"

"I didn't have the money for it."

"You work at the diner, don't you?" Clyde's words were almost too impossible to comprehend, the fries muffling his speech.

"Damn, you savage. Eat with your fucking mouth closed," Kenny exclaimed, lightly hitting the bottom of Clyde's chin, as if to close it. Clyde glanced at him, eyebrows furrowed.

"Y-Yeah, I do," Ace looked from Clyde's mouth to Craig, "I only make minimum wage though, and mom lost her job again. I'm trying to save money up to pay for mortgage and dinner," Ace lowered her eyes to the table. Her mother rarely kept a job for more than a few months. The girl was worried about what would happen to her mother and her little sister after she left for college in a year and a half. Cael leaving had made it hard enough to get by but unlike Cael, she wasn't really able to tell her mother no for alcohol money. Telling her mother no only resulted in her getting physical. Ace wondered if parents getting physical was common among families.

"Your fucking mom," Craig sighed and handed her a french fry. She hesitantly took it. "Do you want me to buy you something?"

"No."

He gave her a concerned look before nodding, his face turning back to it's apathetic, yet almost sardonic, expression. Ace was glad that he wasn't one to usually press people on things. Besides, she would have felt bad taking his money when she had her own. "Where's Litzy and Caspian?" She popped the french fry into her mouth. Her question had a mix of responses, all along the lines of:

"Probably making out."

"Fucking in a classroom."

"They died. I killed them."

She only nodded in reply.

Once all of the french fries had left Clyde's plate, and there was only one left, he had remembered to tell Craig about Tweek. Pointing one of the crimped, singed fries at Craig, he grunted. "Bro, did you hear about what Tweek said?"

"Tweek was at school today?" Kenny raised an eyebrow before drinking out of a bottle of water. He told Ace about something really bad that happened to him with soda. He said something about it being too hard to drink it now without getting 'war flashbacks'. She wasn't sure what soda could have done to him, but she didn't question it.

"Shocking. I don't care, Clyde," Craig muttered, his voice trailing off and into the sea of noise. Dark, blue eyes stared down at the table, trying to burn a hole in the wood.

For a second, Clyde almost looked offended, his head shot back as his eyes widened. Within seconds, he repositioned himself to his normal stance. Before speaking, he ate his pointer fry, causing his speech to be a spitting disaster, "Well, he said something weird in class today. Y'know how people've been disappearing?"

"Yeah," Craig sighed.

"Tweek started screaming in the middle of current events, which was a real shitty idea for him to take in the first place, about how some weird creatures are coming to kill us," Clyde tried to stifle his laughter, "Bro, seriously. He started going on about how they're trying to take us over and how one tried to kill him or something. If the dude had any marbles to begin with, he'd have lost them all by now. They're all gone." He finally let the laugh come out, his arm covering his eyes as he started to laugh again. In between bursts of laughter, he managed to squeeze his words out, "He said they were some kind of fucking shadow-"

From across the table, Kenny abruptly stood up, blonde hair flopping. "Hey, I'm going to go find them." For the most part, everyone ignored him. Ace nodded, meeting his eyes before he quickly looked away, marching off towards the door without another word.

Craig watched him go, his expression unwavering, "Don't make fun of Tweek. He probably has a mental disorder and you're laughing about it." His eyes glanced from Ace, who was still watching the door Kenny left from, to Clyde.

"Chill. It was funny, you shoulda been there," Clyde reassured him. Craig probably didn't feel very reassured.

Asher spoke up, "Y'know, Cas told me last period that he was going to ditch lunch with Litzy to go drive to get food. Kenny's not gonna find them anywhere." He ran a tanned hand through sculpted blonde hair, his eyes shifting to the door. Anxious bubbling began to boil in Ace's stomach, making the world feel hotter. For some reason, she felt like Kenny wasn't really going to look for them. Was he okay?

"Who cares, I'm eating his fries. These things are fucking great." Clyde pulled Kenny's tray over to his, setting it on top of his old one.

Thank you for reading! I appreciate your support. I do not own Litzy Wellz, Vicente Gutierrez, and Josie Marley. Credit for their creation goes to their respective authors.

(Although, they haven't really appeared yet, they will soon, okay.)