"Ugh," Stan Marsh groaned, sitting up. It was 3:30 in the morning and Stan just couldn't sleep, no matter how they tried.
And it probably had something to do with the crickets in their pillow.
"Why can't they just shut up?," Stan grumbled, swinging their legs off of the bed and to the floor. They stood and stretched, and headed over to their closet to get a new pillow. But it wasn't as if it would work. They were currently on their third pillow that night, but no matter what, they could hear the crickets chirping just underneath the slip.
"This is bullshit, I have a test tomorrow," the mumbled as they retrieved another pillow from their closet.
"Stan?"
Stan jumped and turned to see their sister in the doorway to their room. "Oh, hey Shelly. What are you doing up so late?"
Shelly leaned against the doorframe and crossed her arms. "I could be asking you the same question, turd."
Stan sighed. "I can't get to sleep. The crickets are too loud."
Shelly arched her eyebrow. "Crickets? Stan, it's winter. There aren't any crickets."
"Yeah there are. Can't you hear them? They're in my pillow," Stan tossed their old pillow over to her, and laid the new one in it's place.
Shelly held the pillow to her ear. "Stan... There aren't any crickets. I can't hear them at all." She shifted her weight and walked over to Stan's bed. "Stan... Are you entirely sure that you hear them?"
Stan sighed. "I'm not getting bad again, if that's what you're asking. I hear crickets, but I'm not seeing anything."
Shelly sat down next to her sibling. "Stan, if you are getting bad again, it's okay. We can just tell Mom and Dad, and it'll be fine."
Stan groaned and leaned back, hitting their head on the wall in the process. "Ow, fuck. But, no, I don't think I'm getting bad again. It isn't nearly as bad as it used to be, and I'm not seeing anything, or feeling any bugs, or any of that stuff. I'm fine."
"Stan, you can't sleep because of this! You should tell Mom and Dad, then we can talk to the doctor about it."
"Well, if it's so bad that I'm not sleeping, then why are you still awake, huh? It's like 3:45, and we have school," Stan demanded.
Shelly inhaled sharply. "Well, that's really none of your business, now is it."
"And my mental health is yours?"
"Ugh, fine. I haven't done any homework this semester. I've been up all night trying to finish it all."
Stan snorted and covered their mouth to muffle their laughter, "Dude, you didn't do any homework? Like, at all? Isn't it, like, a really big deal in high school?
"Stop laughing you stupid turd," Shelly glared over at her sibling, who was still trying to stifle their laughter, "It's gonna be important to you too, next year. You're gonna be a freshmen, and I will be off at college and won't be here to help you will all of the homework that Mrs. Asshlole gives you."
"Mrs. Asshlole? Who the hell is Mrs. Asshlole?," Stan giggled.
"Oh, right, that's what we call Mrs. Asstor. She's also the track coach, and will tell the PE teacher if you mouth off in her class, so watch your back," Shelly pointed a finger at Stan, but she was laughing a little bit too.
"So, what you're saying is that I should tell Cartman that she's a pushover?"
Shelly laughed. "Yeah, if you want him dead."
"Perfect."
They looked at each other and laughed harder, falling back onto the bed.
"Seriously, though, we should probably get to sleep. You have a test, we both have school," Shelly sat up and slapped Stan's arm. "Are you going to be okay for tonight, or do you want my headphones?"
Stan considered it for a second. "Nah, I think I'm good."
"Cool," Shelly started out of the room. At the door she turned around to look at her sib. They were trying to get settled, pulling the blankets up to their chin and shutting their eyes tight. "Goodnight, Stan."
"Goodnight," Stan replied as Shelly closed the door.
The sound of the crickets was still there, but it was softer this time, they seemed less in their pillow and more under their bed. It was soothing, at this point, and seemed to carry them into a deep, comfortable sleep.