The reason why I'm rewriting this fanfic is because I'm not exactly too satisfied with the Great Journey one. More specifically, I'm not satisfied with the way Cole, Isaac, and Ray were written, plus there were inaccuracies with the descriptions of some abilities. To keep it clear, all WoW abilities mentioned in this fic will be derived from their Wotlk iteration.
Chapter 1
"Hey, get up. We're gonna be late for school."
"Shut up, Wendy." I could feel my head spinning as Wendy Testaburger, my cousin, was shaking my entire body with her bare hands. Wait, how the fuck did she get into my room? I thought I locked the door last night! "I swear to God, Wendy, I'm gonna punch you." I was actually about to wake up and punch her in the stomach until I completely opened my eyes and saw the clock on the nightstand that read 7:30.
"Ah shit. Alright, Wendy, I'm coming."
I jolted out of bed with a start as the morning sun seeped through the windowsill. I looked out the window and it's a beautiful Wednesday morning. Putting on a black buttonless jacket with a hood, black ski pants, black ski gloves, and gold-brimmed aviator goggles my dad gave me five years ago, I went over to the restroom to comb my jet-black hair. It's cropped, went down a little past my ears, and while others thought it was a bit unkempt, I didn't care less. I could see my clear-green eyes in the reflection of the mirror. I then went downstairs to the kitchen to see two plates, each with a sunny-side-egg and two pieces of toast.
I sighed. It wasn't that I hated my own breakfast, no, it's just that my Aunt Deborah and Uncle Sean were nowhere to be found, as per usual. Wendy and I didn't really talk; we mostly just ate our breakfast silently, before going to school.
"We're walking." Normally, we'd take the bus to school, but for one reason or another, Wendy wanted to be a bitch today, and now she wants to walk, despite knowing we're very likely going to be late. Not that I care about being late, but I'd rather not get marked tardy again or I'll risk getting a phone call home, and knowing how uptight and strict my caretakers can be could be quite a thorn in my side to my own freedom.
"Why?" I could feel my throat scoffing, and I won't hide the fact I'm a little baffled by Wendy's decision, given that normally she likes to play the good girl part.
"I - I don't even want to deal with his shit today alright?" Wendy's tone was rushed, I could hear the anger in her voice. And I know for a fact it had everything to do with a certain fatass in our grade, and in Wendy's class. "I don't even want to deal with your shit either."
"What do I have to do with what that fat fuck did to you yesterday during your speech?" But Wendy blew me off as she just speedwalked towards the direction of school. That ticked me off real quick, that bitch! "You gonna answer my goddamn question?!" But she didn't turn back, she just kept walking. "Jesus Christ," I muttered as I walked after her.
For the rest of the walk, we were mostly silent with each other, and to my astonishment, we weren't late, likely due to the speed at which we moved. When we got to school I saw a giant commotion at the street; about a hundred or so kids were standing out. They were waiting for something. I don't know why they were standing around. As I got closer, my wonders must've solved themselves because I heard Butters Stotch open his mouth. "Man it's almost time for school to start an' Wendy still isn't here."
"Oh shit..." I knew exactly what Butters was going on about.
"Jesus fucking Christ." Apparently Wendy could hear them too.
Another voice could be heard, one I'm too familiar with. "Yeah, I don't know what's going on. I mean, I showed up." Cartman and Wendy were supposed to fight each other yesterday because according to Wendy herself, Cartman said some offensive things about Breast Cancer, and to be honest, I don't think Wendy's lying, and I wouldn't be surprised if he actually did say offensive things about Breast Cancer, or women in general, he is quite the sexist afterall. However, Cartman got into detention by literally taking a dump on Mr. Garrison's desk. There's conspiracy theories going on that Cartman only crapped on Garrison's desk to get out of the fight. Personally, I found the part where he took a dump pretty hilarious, especially given how much of a faggot Mr. Garrison is. Thank God he's not my teacher.
"Where is she? How come Wendy's not showing up for the fight?" This one must be the shrill voice of Bebe Stevens. I bit my lower lip. I never really liked the popular girls in my class. This is mostly because they treat my girlfriend and her friends like shit. Yep, I do have a girlfriend, her name is Ellen Joseph.
"Come." Wendy motioned with her left hand for me to follow. As I walked with her, I noted she wasn't like her usual cheerful self, normally excited to be at school. Her eyes were glued to the ground. But it was whatever, I mean, I'm not gonna feel sorry given the fact she took her anger out on me earlier this morning.
"Here she comes!" A girl called out.
Wendy approached Cartman while I decided to stay back. It's not my fight, and I didn't appreciate Wendy's disrespectful attitude this morning. Besides, she's such a tough girl, right? Cartman began to strike some gang poses. He's doing all this weird shit with his hands, trying to act all gangster-like when really, he's just a dumbass. "What's up, Wendy? I thought we were meeting early to fight."
Now Wendy finally takes her eyes off the ground as she looks at Cartman. "You know I can't fight you!"
"Why not? You chicken?" Cartman just struts around an clucking like a chicken. Wasn't calling someone a chicken an insult when I was like...5 years old?
"I can't fight you because you came crying to my house last night with your mom!" Wendy retorted. That part was actually true. Cartman did come crying like a bitch instead of owning up to the fact he pissed my cousin off and taking it like a man.
"Pfffft. Aw, that's a doozie, Wendy!" He sneered at Wendy. "You come up with that one on your own?!" And yep, classic Cartman manipulation.
"Hehehe yeah, did you come up with that one on your own?!" Butters often likes to parrot Cartman. Ironically, for the amount of times he complains about his "friends" (being Eric and others) being mean to him, Butters can be equally mean. Granted, I'm mean too, but at least I'm not a hypocrite like he is.
"I ain't frontin' dawg! Let's do this! Let's do it right now, yo." Cartman was throwing up some more gangster poses.
"Come on Wendy, kick his ass!" Bebe yelled.
"I can't!" As the words left Wendy's mouth, the school bell rung. "God damn it!" I sighed. Guess Wendy won't kick Cartman's ass after all.
"She chickened out!" Butters said. Well not really, since we kinda have to go to class and all right? I heard a few people from the crowd say "Aw man" and similar.
I went into the building by myself at this point. As I got to my locker, I met up with three of my friends. First was Chris Howard, blonde kid with black hat, green jacket with a blue collar, blue pants, and blue gloves. His best friend stood by him, Irving Stratford, with blonde hair, purple jacket with the green collar, green gloves, and blue pants. Last but not least is my best friend, Preston Marlowe, his brown hair hidden underneath his red and black beanie with a gray jacket with black collar, black pants, and black gloves. "Yo."
"Hey, what's up?!" Irving said happily
"Not much," I replied.
"Not much?" Irving said in mock dismay. "Not even ready for another day in school?"
"Yeah, I'm ready for another shitty day," I lazily said.
"That's the spirit," Irving laughed. The cheerful one. The one who can brighten anyone's day.
"What'd you think of the shit outside?" Chris asked. And to be honest, I was hoping Chris wouldn't ask that, but I knew that eventually, the conversation would end up treading down this path. He was always the serious one. Might be the coldest, but he's always there when you need him.
"Is Wendy gonna be alright?" Preston said worryingly. "She didn't seem to well." That's my best friend, and much unlike myself, he's the kindest one of us all. Still though, he's my best friend. "Aren't you worried she'll be beat up?"
"She'll be fine." I simply shrugged my shoulders. "Stan Marsh will protect her anyways, and besides, that fatass had it coming to him."
"She's kinda girly, no offense," Chris rebutted.
I couldn't help but laugh at Chris' comment and his implication. Oh, how the three of them are so misguided. "Heh, you three don't give her enough credit when it's due." Let's just say that after getting in enough physical confrontations with Wendy, I knew better than to underestimate her.
"You give her too much credit," Chris remarked. "Don't count out the fatass, always expect the worst."
"'Always expect the worst?'" Irving scoffed and then smirked at Chris. "Comeon, Chris, you can't be a downer all the time!" But then the bell rang. "Aw, crap!"
"Who's the downer now?" Preston said.
"Come on, guys, let's get to class," I said. "Don't wanna be marked late, again, do we?"
All of the Fourth Graders had to give presentations about problems in our society, which is very broad. Today, I was front and center, giving my speech, wrapping up my thoughts as I held note cards in my hands. "...and that is why Wild Boars, an invasive species, must be dealt with swiftly and in a timely manner. Thank you." The entire class clapped.
Joel Gibbons, our teacher, clapped as well. "Hm, very nice, very nice. That is an A+." I couldn't help but smile, I knew my hard work on my speech would pay off. "Anyways, we only have about five minutes before recess, so once recess is over-"
Suddenly, the PA system turned on and through the intercom Principal Victoria's voice could be heard. "Wendy Testaburger to the principal's office please? Wendy Testaburger to the principal's office." Now that's a surprise. There were whispers among the classroom.
"Yo, what happened?" Preston sat to my right, whispering to my ear.
"I dunno," I replied. "Maybe the principal found out? Maybe someone ratted her out or something? Ratted out her plan to beat up the fat fuck?"
"Did you sell out Wendy?" Preston asked.
I tilted my head and cringed at Preston. "What? No! Why would I sell out my own cousin like that? I have no reason to, really." I know she can be crazy and dumb, but I wouldn't do that.
"Now now, settle down class." Mr. Gibbons stood up, holding a clipboard, and shook his head. "It's just a student needing to see the principal. Besides, I'm sure you guys all experienced what Wendy is going through, right?" As Mr. Gibbons finished his words, a sly smirk formed on his face, and the rest of my classmates quickly shut their mouths. Wow, what a savage. Yeah, quite a bit of us get in trouble with the principal, but that's because of our rivalry with Mr. Garrison's class; based on how snotty the others from Mr. Garrison's class are, they deserve all flak they get. "Anyways, as I was saying, after recess, Ben will give his speech on Prostate Cancer. But before we go, I still need to take role call. Karen Anderson?"
"Here."
"Stacey Anderson?"
"Here."
"Marshall Antoinette?"
"I go by Mick."
"Clayton Carmine?"
"Here."
"Kara Cunningham?"
"Here."
"Jackson Dallas?"
"Here."
"Melissa Daniels?"
"Here."
"Keith Davis?"
"Here."
"Steven Downes?"
"Here."
"Calvin Emery?"
"Here."
"Benjamin Fetherston?"
"I go by Ben."
"Kathy Freeman?"
"Here."
"Molly Frore?"
"Here."
"Sheba Hadley?"
"Here."
"Nathan Hendricks?"
"I go by Nate."
"Hannah Hilton?"
"Here."
"Tyler Hoffman?"
I briefly raised my right hand. "Here." I then put my hand down.
"Christopher Howard?"
"I go by Chris."
"Winter Jefferson?"
"Here."
"Stephanie Jenner?"
"Here."
"Garet Jerra?"
"Here."
"Kay Jerra?"
"Here."
"Ellen Joseph?"
"Here."
"Cody Lewis?"
"Here."
"Andrea Libman?"
"Here."
"Sophia Locke?"
"Here."
"Clinton Loomis?"
"I go by Clint."
"Justin Loomis?"
"Here."
"Preston Marlowe?"
"Here."
"Tina Maxwell?"
"Here."
"Pearl McKurdy?"
"Here."
"Ian Milton?"
"Here."
"Jessica Reynolds?"
"Here."
"Julia Reynolds?"
"Here."
"Katie Smith?"
"Here."
"Felix Stoley?"
"Here."
"Irving Stratford?"
"Here."
"Ivan Taylor?"
"Here."
"Tommy Turner?"
"Here."
"Ashley Williams?"
"Here."
The bell rang. As I filed out of the classroom, I felt a bump on my right shoulder. I looked over to my right and saw her. Ellen Joseph, my girlfriend. The blonde girl with the light blue jacket, blue scarf, blue gloves, and blue pants. "Hey," she said quietly.
If there was one person who could make me smile, it was her. "Hey."
"That was a really good speech." Ellen flashed a smile at me.
Honestly speaking, her brown eyes were hard to resist. They made my heart go aflutter, and God do I sound lame in my head. "Thanks. I've...worked pretty hard. Yeah."
"Wanna go see the others?" Ellen asked.
"Yeah, we can do that," I nodded.
At recess I sat at the merry-go-round with Ellen, Chris, Preston, Irving, and another blonde girl name Hannah Hilton, who wore a black jacket, green pants, green gloves, and a black beret. We were just chatting away about World of Warcraft. It's the game that our school plays. However, let's be honest: the six of us are easily the best 3v3 arena players, and therefore the WoW players, at this school. Not even trying to brag about that either, most of the others, especially those in the fourth grade, are complete shitters at the game. I play a Paladin as a damage dealer, and for the most part, I play with Preston, a Hunter, and Ellen, a Druid healer.
"You like the way I Ice Blocked Clint's Death Grip?" Hannah bragged, playing the Mage class.
"Yeah, only because I did a Vanish-Garrote combo on Justin, preventing his Mass Dispel." Chris rolled his eyes. He played the Rogue class, and often thought that he was a genius for playing the allegedly hardest class in the game.
"Hey, where's my credit for being heals?" Irving played a Priest healer.
"Healing's a thankless job, you know?" Ellen said, which I could tell was in a joking tone. "Hell, I don't even get thanks for my Cyclones."
"That's because I scatter-trap them anyways," Preston replied. "While Tyler here also does the dirty work. Doing the big D." I couldn't help but snicker from Preston's statement.
"Yeah, surely, the big D," I repeated.
Suddenly I could hear a commotion in the school yard and I could hear Butters yell, "She's coming! She's coming!" I quickly turned my head to the center of the school yard, and sure enough, shit's about to go down.
Preston tapped my left shoulder. "Tyler, this could be it. Your cousin. Would she really..."
"Fuck both of them," Ellen muttered. I'm a little dismayed about the way Ellen disparages Wendy, but I'm not dumb. I know how hypocritical and stupid Wendy and her friends can be.
"Butters, get out of here!" Cartman yelled at Butters.
"But Wendy's coming to fight you," Butters argued.
"...Huh?" Cartman turned towards the school building, and so did I. The side doors fly open and Wendy walks down the steps spoiling for a fight. The students cheer her on as she turns left and heads for the playground. Some girls trail behind her, Bebe being the first among them.
As crowds of students gathered around the fighting couple, my friends and I situated ourselves on the merry-go-round. Then the playground fell silent. Wendy walks up to Cartman and they face off. Cartman begins wavering while striking different poses. "What- what's up? What what's up?" Cartman then leaned over to "attempt" to whisper to Wendy, but in reality, the entire playground could all hear it. "Wendy, don't forget: I'll tell my mom on you."
"I don't care!" Wendy yelled. Cartman looks around. Butters gleefully danced in place waiting for the fight to start. Yeah, I'd rather see Cartman and Butters beat the shit outta each other until they kill themselves. Maybe then they can both spare us their presences.
"Um, recess is almost over," Cartman tried, "I don't I don't know if there's really time." That's weird. Didn't recess start five minutes ago or something?
I could hear some yelling while Wendy ties her hair in a bun behind her head. "All right, fine Wendy!" Eric took off his jacket and raised his fists. "I'll fight ya you big bully!"
The fighters danced around each other until Wendy lands a right cross. Cartman spins around and falls on his back. Wendy dances around and Cartman stands up, pulling up his pants in the process. Wendy lands two left jabs on Cartman's face, and Cartman finally responds with a right punch. It's strong enough to make Wendy stagger backwards.
"Ohhhhh!" the kids exclaimed. Cartman might win this fight if he lays out the punches right. Of course, I'm hoping Cartman doesn't win, that Cartman gets his face kicked in.
Cartman landed another punch on Wendy's face, then continued with a series of alternating punches, forcing Wendy backwards and into the crowd. Cartman landed a punch strong enough to send Wendy into the jungle gym, then continued punching her there. Wendy switched to wrestling, throwing Cartman into the jungle gym, then driving his face into one of the bars at least twice, and Cartman begins to bleed. The crowd, along with myself, is loving it, cheering them on. Wendy now delivered a long series of alternating punches, forcing Cartman back across the playground and into a hobby elephant. Cartman put his arms up to deflect the punches, but it's ineffective.
"Fuck him up, Wendy!" Butters yelled. Yeah, okay, Butters. Weren't you cheering fatass on earlier this morning?
Cartman finally tossed Wendy off him and threw a punch at her, but she punched faster, making him miss. She then punched him on the right temple, and Cartman wobbled a bit. As he recovered, Wendy delivered the finishing blow: a fierce right cross that turned Cartman head around and sends his body flying. Cartman fell to the ground, losing a tooth. Wendy kicked him a few times for good measure. Afterwards, I could see her running out of strength, staggering backwards, and dropping down on her ass, exhausted. Of course Wendy won, how could it be otherwise?
I hope you enjoyed it. Yes, this is a Stick of Truth story. No, it's not going to follow the plot exactly, in fact, it's going to veer off into an entirely different direction, in terms of plot and mood. You'll see. I have played the game though and I really enjoy it. Anyways, updates aren't going to be very quick, gonna warn you ahead of time. Until next time.
