Author's Note: I'd say sorry for how long it took to write up this second chapter but life has gotten in the way. Got a bunch of other stuff to do, classwork, readings, etc., so that's taking up more time than usual. But for those that do know me, you know I won't leave you hanging forever. I do finish the stories I post no matter how long it takes. Just slowly getting into the groove of things, setting things up, introducing the characters, blah blah blah. I'd like to say it's mostly canon characters in this chapter but I think it's an even number between canon and OCs. Maybe. Sorta. Anyway, if you're OC has not shown up yet, don't worry. I take my time with introducing the characters and who knows how many chapters this is going to be. Plenty of time for introductions, maybe, but in the meantime, enjoy this chapter.
Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.
Warning: language, death
The Locals Who Never Left
Charlie White had been dreading this day for quite some time. It was a day that practically every woman feared while a handful would remain in deep, deep denial for years to come.
It was the day when a woman finally realized that she wasn't as young as she thought she was. It had smacked her in the face once she realized that it had been ten long years since high school graduation. Unlike many, though, she got over this fact pretty quickly. She had never been that feminine before and hadn't really cared much about herself before.
What was this to her other than a five second pause of shock? Others would go into meltdown, others, again, into deep denial but there was always a few who got over it in record time.
It was a bit of a shame that twenty-eight wasn't the new eighteen or anything…
And this would be the point where if Bain knew what she was thinking, he'd lay it into her. Fortunately he didn't so this would stay a secret for as long as she could hold it.
Now, what could have caused such a reaction with her you might be asking yourself. This was Charlie White, the one girl in school who cared less about what other people thought of her, literally knew how to kick ass, and dated a homicidal sociopath. Was still dating said homicidal sociopath by the way.
Well, what caused her to freeze up for five second and wonder where all the time had gone could be tied directly to an e-mail she had received not long ago. How someone from her old class managed to find her…scratch that, fucking Facebook, that's how. Anyway, she had in her inbox an invitation to go to the ten year high school reunion and that's how she knew that ten years had passed by before she had known it.
What had she been doing in that time? Other than practically raising her sisters after an accident had claimed her mother's life, Charlie was taking a gamble and attempting to follow in the footsteps of her mother and be an author. Wasn't going too well as she had an enormous case of reoccurring writer's block and easily fell into bouts of laziness from which it was hard to pull herself out of. The only reason why she was still afloat financially was because her mother had been quite a good writer and had squirreled away much of her money so there was a hefty sum left for her surviving daughters.
It had been ten years and now, only now, she had gotten a reply from a publisher that was interested in signing her up. So things were starting to look up for her. Of course, Stella had taken off as soon as she could and Tammy was just entering her senior year of high school herself. Yeah, time had really slipped away from her, hadn't it?
The only other person in her life was none other than her sociopathic boyfriend Bain Cynis…who no longer lived in the state of Colorado. He was located in good ol' Stanford, California, home to Stanford University but what he was doing Charlie could not say. He only showed up around the holidays in which Charlie would find herself bordering between happiness and hell. Even after all these years he still knew what buttons to press.
And speaking of Hell, that was another reason why she hadn't left South Park. After essentially babysitting the Antichrist himself and successfully lasting a year, Satan, Prince of Darkness and all that jazz, had kept up his end of their bargain. She had nice place to look forward to after she died but in the meantime she had to keep an eye on Damien and make sure he didn't get in over his head. Close to the actual words used but not quite. It was too humiliating to repeat Satan's actual words which was something when you were also feeling humiliated and you weren't the person being humiliated.
So Daddy's little unholy princess went off to become mayor of the town, big whoop, and Charlie was still in a quasi-babysitting situation. Again. Fuck. Last time she made any deals with fallen angels, let her tell you that. Just when you think you're getting a good deal, they always manage to sucker more out of you.
Well, anyway, back to what was the real issue here. High school reunion. Invite was in her inbox. What should she do about it? Call Bain? No, he'd demand what possessed her to call him about stupid shit. Go to it? Nah, she didn't really like social events despite the large number she inadvertently attended. Stay home and try to finish up that novel she was trying to write? Too lazy right now.
So what was she supposed to do now, hmm?
What would be the purpose of going other than just going to go? Show off what kind of a "success" she was? Nah, that sounded more like some kind of ego trip she had no intention of taking. She didn't do such things not because she was some kind of nice person who didn't rub things into your face; she just didn't do things because she didn't care.
And also she was the type to rub things into your face. Just ask Bain. She did it all the time to him. Of course, if Tammy ever caught her doing it, she'd interrupt and vehemently defend that crazy asshole. There were times when she thought that her little sister had never really gotten over that crush she had on that maniac, something that occurred back when they were in high school.
And she was getting off topic again. Maybe it was because this was just something she didn't care for in the first place. After double checking just who it was that sent the invitation, it took a bit to figure out that the person who sent it to her was none other than Wendy Testaburger.
What was Wendy trying to do? Gather up half the world's population of assholes and bring them under one roof? Because contrary to what most people thought, half the guys that Charlie graduated with were assholes. Some just hid it better than others.
At this point, the only thing that she did know was that Bain wasn't attending. Something about a research project he was working on. Knowing him, it could be something that was legitimate or it was part of his extra-curricular activities.
By extra-curricular activity, she meant his career as a fucking serial killer. Bastard was going to get himself caught one of these days, especially if anybody began believing Marcus Cole's "theory" of the so-called Copycat Killer. Charlie knew that it was definitely no theory and all too real. After all, Bain was the Copycat Killer.
She was getting off track again. Should she accept or not?
Eh, she'd think about it. Later. Maybe.
The pencil was held trapped between the hem of a pair of pants and the bulbous gluteus maximus which the cloth strained against. The person of whom this gluteus maximus belonged to was on his knees, his head sticking into a cabinet that was placed just under a kitchen sink and just so happened to have a set of pipes kept within it. Beside this very large person, a tool box rested on the floor, open and revealing a wrench that had definitely seen a lot of use. Underneath that wrench was a roll of duct tape for those jobs that couldn't be fixed in a timely manner.
Pulling his head out from the cabinet, revealing that he had a double chin, the plumber reached into the tool box and snatched up the roll of duct tape, leaning back towards the cabinet with the roll. Tearing off a long piece, he got to work and with that quick fix had completed his latest job.
And it was about time too! He'd been here for five minutes and that by itself was too long!
"I'm done!" he hollered out, seeking some kind of recognition for his efforts. The uncaring silence that answered him was his reward.
Growling, the plumber yelled out, "Ey! I said I was done!" Sheesh! What was taking this dickhole so long?
From an open doorway, the owner of the house shuffled in, age slowing her body down. "Did you say something?" she asked, her eyes narrowed into slits in an attempt to see better though it was a failed endeavor.
"I fixed the sink," the plumber announced, gesturing to said kitchen fixture. Pulling out a pad and reaching back to grab the pencil that was held against his ass, the plumber pulled the writing utensil out and sniffed it. Grimacing a bit, he nevertheless held it properly and began using it for its proper function. "Now that was a standard job and after adding in labor and a few other things, your total comes out to be…three hundred dollars."
"Oh dearie, that sounds steep," the elderly owner of the house commented.
"Times have changed ma'am," the plumber replied, sounding more respectful than he had earlier.
"Do you take a check?" the woman asked as she began shuffling back towards the living room.
"Certainly," the plumber answered sweetly. "Just make it out to cash and Eric Cartman, working manager of Cartman Quick Fix, Inc., will take care of the rest…"
Ten minutes later, the plumber known as Eric Cartman was getting back into his piece of shit pickup, practically tossing his toolbox carelessly into the passenger seat and onto an abuse envelope as he sat in the driver's seat. Looking over the check he had received, he stuffed it into a pocket and turned the ignition, starting the engine so he could head out for his next job.
This was freaking the pits. What had happened? How did someone as gifted and talented as him end up in some dead in job like plumbing? Hell, "Cartman Quick Fix, Inc." didn't even exist! It was just there to make him sound professional as well as make others think he was a businessman. He was a self-employed, twenty-eight year old who was barely scraping by on his meager earnings.
Yes, he overcharged that woman back there but she was such a dumbass that she was begging to get swindled. In fact, he would have already done so if he had some kind of plan he could follow. Didn't have one of those yet so he was stuck with ripping her off as well as waiting for her next call to come, saying that her sink was broken.
Whose fault was it that he was in this situation? Well, isn't it obvious? It was those greedy, Godless Jews who were responsible for this, in particular that Jewrat Kyle! If those money-grubbing Jews weren't hoarding all the money for themselves, there'd be plenty for everyone but no they had to keep it all for themselves and force hardworking folks like himself to eke out a living.
He even had proof that there was a big Jew conspiracy! That new mayor they had had a Jew working for him and guess what, he won! Meanwhile there was little underdog him without a Jew and he lost! Cartman always knew Kyle and the rest of his Jew kind had it out for him. If only people would believe him and realize that the greatest threat to this great nation of theirs was that of the Jewish kind, dwarfed only by the underhanded Chinese takeover that was brewing.
Jews and Chinks, both were plotting to steal all of America's money and destroy it with a massive debt. What was it going to take for people to understand this?
Whatever, he had to go unclog a toilet over on…what was the name of that street again? He was always over there, always at the same house where the same person would ask for him by name for all her plumbing needs. A young woman too, one who went by the name Melanie Wishcast. It seemed like he was always going over there between the times of four and five it seemed…
Whatever, it was another wad of cash in his hand to further his extravagant lifestyle and you didn't believe that one for a moment, did you? Fuck! He was losing his touch! Once he could have sold a movie studio an idea for a bad Adam Sadler movie and make who knows how much money. Yet here he was, a fucking plumber of all things and barely eking a living on less than fucking minimum wage despite the fact that he wasn't even receiving a minimum wage from anyone.
For some reason, though, he had this feeling that he should be somewhere else, involved with some kind of business or something or the sort that involved time travel…
Yeah right, time travel. What did he look like, some kind of moron? He hadn't believed that one when that asshole had come out of nowhere and told him that if he changed his ways, he was going to be the owner of his own time travel company? Only an idiot would have fallen for that.
Perhaps, though, what was the worst part of his life was the fact that he was going through all the suffering and he didn't have anyone else beside him to share in it. Fucking Brianna Vargas. Just when he finally starts managing the turn the tables and become the person who wore the pants in their relationship, she up and leaves and he hasn't heard from her since. And after all he had been through with her!
At least if she was still around, he could have bitched—er, he meant complained to her about how his life wasn't turning out the way he wanted it to and it was all Kyle's fault. It was always Kyle's fault. Even if it wasn't obvious, that greedy Jewrat was responsible for something!
A car horn blared at him, jerking him out of his seething thoughts just as he ran past a stop sign. Luckily it was a four-way stop and the person who honked at him had barely started to pull out. Of course, that's not how Cartman saw it.
Sticking a hand out of the driver side window, he raised his middle finger and called out, "Watch where you're driving asshole!"
Yeah, that'd show'em.
Show'em what exactly? That Eric Cartman was not going to be pushed around forever. He would rise up and conquer whatever obstacles that Kyle and his fellow Jew race put in front of him and he would show them all just how awesome he truly was.
The invitation to the ten year high school reunion which rested on the passenger seat and right under his tool box gave him all the motivation to want to one up all the naysayers. Finding that in his mailbox had been surprising and a little upsetting after some reflection was done. He wasn't anywhere near where he wanted to be in life and the last thing he wanted was for anyone important to know how crappy his life was.
But didn't everybody lie at these things? As long as you put forth an image of success, people would believe you because they had no reason not to. He may not be the success he deserved to be right now but if he made everyone believe that he was, then that success would have to become true because it was a self-fulfilling prophesy or some shit like that.
But first he had a toilet or possibly a shower drain to unclog.
The smell of oil and engine grease was something you got used to over a period of time and Kenny McCormick could safely say that he had gotten used to it. You had to if you wanted to last long as a car mechanic. If you couldn't face the stench of car fluids then what business did you have fixing them?
Personally, Kenny cared more about the income he got from the job more than anything but that was to be expected. He had spent his childhood in poverty, seen how drugs, alcohol, a bad relationship, and just how wrong foster care could go and he knew that he didn't want to spend the rest of his life involved with either of those things.
Due to the poverty, he wouldn't be able to get far. He couldn't afford college and scholarships could only pay so much. So he had to enter the job market and start earning himself a little bit of dough and when he saved up enough, skipped out on his parent's place and found one of his own. He just got lucky that the old owner of this particular garage had taken him in under his wing.
He didn't want to depend on luck. He had to make his own else he'd wind up back where he first came from.
But that was all in the past now and if there was one thing that Kenny McCormick was, it was looking towards the future and better times. And other than a better life, there was always the next person to receive the pleasure of his company. Ah…it was a shame he was going through a bit of a dry spell though. Had been a couple months since he last tussled in the sheets.
He'd meet someone, whenever that would be and after some wining and dining, get to the good stuff and then be on the lookout for the next one. Dang, that didn't sound good at all, did it? He just wasn't looking to settle or anything, just have a good time as well as take care of his libido. Was that so wrong? Why did girls think that once you wrestled mommy-and-daddy style that you were destined to be together forever?
If there was anyone he was destined for, it was not another person per se but the very town he lived in. Knowing full well that he wasn't ever going to be leaving South Park, Kenny had decided that if he was to remain here then he would do his best to at least leave it in better shape than when he found it.
Thus there was his nightlife which, contrary to what he may have hinted at earlier, was not a stint in a club or a bar. No, it was more on the rooftops, searching from high above for anything that might not be wholesome. Darkness would cloak him, the shadows shield him, and from the depths he would rise up and strike down those who would dare prey on the weak.
But that was his nightlife and had no bearing on his day job. During the day, he was just your typical, overcharging mechanic. Well, overcharging to those who didn't know him or he didn't like, he was thinking of you Cartman, you cheap asshole. Still owed him for the last job too…
He paused for a second as he heard a voice yell outside, "Watch where you're driving asshole!" He could have sworn…no way that was Cartman, right? Shrugging, he popped open the hood of the latest vehicle he was going to work on. He hadn't really kept in touch with the other guys and the only reason he interacted with the fat ass so much was because of work. He hadn't spoken a word with Stan since the guy left to go to New York and that had been how long? Kyle he saw every once in a while but again no words were spoken. A nod, a smile, and then on their way they went.
How did it turn out that way? Kenny didn't know but he wasn't about to let that darken his day. It was just another thing that happened and to be honest, he expected it. The three guys he knew as his friends were usually all over the place, always beyond what was around them and there were times where they didn't bring him along or even forgotten about him. Just a fact of life so what could you do about it?
All that was neither here nor there. What was was that the current customer said that they were hearing funny noises from the engine. Best to check the fluids first, the oil, the transmission fluids, all that stuff. You'd be surprised at how many problems could be fixed just by looking at those things. If it wasn't the fluids, then he'd check the parts of the engine, radiator, the pistons, the other parts, and not necessarily in that order.
Fixing a car was kinda like fixing a person, he mused. You had to know what was wrong with them first before you could do anything to help. Unlike a person, with a car you could really get accurate with what was wrong and then say with utmost certainty what it was. They had manuals and all sorts of stuff to help you out too.
Of course, you still had to get dirty but if there was one thing that he didn't mind, it was getting a little dirty.
And yes, there was more than one way to take that statement and he, naturally, meant it in more than one way.
Enough with the dirty thoughts, pun not intended, he needed to focus on his job for a bit.
"Craig! This came in the mail for you!"
Craig had barely sat down in his favorite chair when the short envelope fell into his lap. With as much effort as his tired body would allow, he lifted his head up to give his wife a bland stare which he did not stop until she left him alone in their quiet living room. Not quiet for long when he reached for the TV remote instead of the envelope and turned the television, ESPN shouting out highlights for the last few basketball games.
Staring at the TV for a moment, Craig let himself relax for a moment before finally picking up the envelope that his wife Brianna had tossed onto his lap. There was a slight thickness to it and after weighing it a bit, he tore it open graciously and pulled out the card that was inside of it.
Huh. High school reunion eh? At least it was the tenth anniversary of that instead of something dumb like the thirteenth. Wonder where that thought came from.
Life was nice and boring for Craig Tucker who had gone to the local community college like practically anyone who could afford it did right after high school. Like everyone else who went there, he majored in business, got out after two years, and found out just how worthless a degree in business really was.
That didn't stop him from clerking at the local grocery store where after seven and a half years, he was a proud manager and supervisor. Not the owner or anything high up like that but he was working his way to that.
A nice and boring life, just the way he liked it.
And what other way could you make your life normal and boring than to jump right into a marriage as soon as he had gotten his two year degree? While at that community college, he had met the girl who would become his wife when he was just shy of twenty-one years of age.
Brianna Bower as she had introduced herself to him. A perfectly average girl with average height and weight, average blonde hair, not so average but close enough green eyes, just pretty much average…or so he had thought until he had learned that she had once been a part of the U.S. Olympics swim team. Not only had she been a native to South Park, she had been homeschooled all her life (which explained why he hadn't known she existed for nearly twenty years) which allowed her to keep a focus on her swimming.
From what he heard, she had been pretty good too. And on a whim of not being boring, he proposed to her out of the blue one day. Miraculously, she accepted. One nice and boring wedding later, they were hitched but the honeymoon had been real short.
As in shorter than Eric Cartman's penis short.
That had been due to bad timing on Craig's part. The "I dos" were barely said and Brianna had to be on her way to an intense training camp. He wasn't sure but he thought there were also tryouts occurring soon after that for the next U.S. swim team but he might have been mistaken. Not that it really mattered since Brianna came back sooner than expected.
A bit of an accident had happened and somehow Brianna had injured her hip. Craig couldn't quite recall if she had broken it but all he did know was that the injury had been severe enough that she had to quite swimming. At least professionally.
That was tantamount to being a death sentence for her budding career as a world famous swimmer and in the following months, the best word that could describe her was bitter. Barely a year into their marriage and it felt like it had been a lifetime. Most of the time, Craig didn't care but there were those days when he dreaded going back home.
But those were far and few between.
Like a good husband, he did his best to help her out in her time of need. He even got her a position at the grocery store since the manager at that time had taken a bit of a liking towards him. Naturally, Brianna didn't like it. Not one bit. Two months later she was job searching again having "quit."
Really he tried, but the longer he stayed with her, the more Craig began to learn who Brianna really was. In normal terms, she was a bitch. There was really no other word that could be used to describe her. Just a nice and boring bitch. Ah, the typical wife.
There was a whoosh in front of his face and Craig came back to his senses. Huh, kinda zoned out there for a second…wait, where did that invite go?
"What's this?" Brianna Bower, now Brianna Tucker, demanded.
"High school reunion," Craig shrugged, seeing no reason to lie or anything. Too much effort and plus he didn't really care about hiding anything in the first place.
"Well if this isn't a reminder that the clock is ticking," Brianna snarked as she jerked her head to try and get some of her blonde bangs out of her eyes.
"Yep, pretty much normal," Craig said, training his eyes on the television screen.
"Don't you get tired of being normal?" Brianna scoffed.
"Not really," Craig said.
"I was being rhetorical," Brianna stated.
"Oh."
"How perfectly bland," she rolled her eyes as she stomped over and gently placed herself on the couch. Even after all this time, there was still some hope within her that one day she might be able to pick back up where she left off and enter the Olympics one more time. With the injury she had, Craig knew this at least that that was not going to be happening in this world any time soon.
"You should know by now," Craig said, shifting slightly in his chair as he sought to get more comfortable. "That's just the way I like it."
"Don't you have any ambitions?" Brianna protested.
"No," Craig answered before she could go on.
"You have to have some!" Brianna exclaimed.
Pondering for a minute, his thoughts drowning out his wife's voice (hey, he didn't know he could do that!), he interrupted her tirade with, "Now that you mention it…I'd like to get a pay raise. Maybe get my boss' job one day."
"You can't be serious," Brianna blinked at him.
"Do I look like I'm joking?" Craig asked, giving her his normal, bland expression.
"You're comfortable with this…this low class living?" Brianna asked, appalled. "Don't you want better living? Don't you want to be able to enjoy the finer things in life?"
"ESPN is one of the finer things in life," Craig said, staring at the television where two hosts were debating a recent team's winning streak. "The finest," he added for good measure.
He ignored how Brianna's blue-green eyes flashed in ire because, really, it was perfectly boring and normal, just the way it was supposed to be. And also the way he liked it, couldn't forget that part.
"This isn't good enough for me!" Brianna stated. "I should be out there living it up, rich and admired and, and…I shouldn't be stuck in this rut!"
"That's life, babe, you're either moving or stuck in a rut," Craig replied.
He heard her groan and, more importantly, get up off the couch. This was perfect.
"Hey, if you're heading that way, can you grab me a beer?" he asked loudly, not taking his eyes off the TV set.
"Get it yourself!" Brianna shouted at him as she stomped away.
Ah, perfectly normal. Predictable. Nice and boring.
Just the way he liked it.
It wasn't the way she usually travelled but for the sake of getting there, it was going to have to be good ol' Greyhound.
Life had definitely been good to Bonnie Snyder, newly minted pediatrician. How someone like her had not only managed to get into medical school but graduate from it, she did not know but that's exactly what happened. But she wasn't just any kind of doctor now; she was a specialist of children. A pediatrician, licensed and a recent addition to the Children's Hospital Colorado at Saint Joseph.
She was just getting settled in to everything when she got the e-mail. It wasn't an actual invitation as she hadn't given anybody back home her new physical address but she understood why she had to settle for something so much more impersonal.
That wasn't really anyway they could get her the actual invitation to her ten year high school reunion.
Back to what was happening now, she was getting her bus ticket and heading on back to South Park. Normally she'd take her car but something weird was going on with it. She was no expert in cars; if her car was having trouble, she had absolutely no idea what was wrong with it. She had even just taken it over to the shop but it wouldn't be ready in time for the reunion itself due to the fact that the mechanic's garage was packed. Seemed like something was wrong with everybody's car.
Well, she wasn't about to let that get her down. It wasn't just for the reunion that she was coming back to her old home town.
Taking a seat on a bench and letting out a sigh, Bonnie relaxed as much as she could as she waiting for her bus to arrive. There was time enough to get lost in her thoughts and lost she got, her memories of a simpler time reminding her of all her exploits while she grew up in the old mountain town.
Most of them, though, were focused on a particular individual, a certain blond that had never really left her. The things she had done to get his attention just so he would sweep her off her feet like some noble prince and carry her off into the sunset…yeah, she had yet to grow out of her romantic fantasies.
But wasn't it everybody's dream to have their Prince Charming rescue them from…whatever danger they happened to be in be it aliens, mutant snowmen, or just boredom, and make everything end happily ever after? To fall in love with the one who captured your heart and he love you back with all of his being?
Oh, Kenny McCormick, why hadn't you become her Prince Charming?
Well, if anything, this reunion would provide her with one last chance to get the boy of her dreams, her pseudo-high school sweetheart. She imagined it as being something from one of those movies, you know, the ones where the main character returned to their home town for something and met back up with everyone they left behind? And while they were there, they'd find the person they had fallen in love with and after some plot development, they would come together, admit their love for one another and live happily ever after? All that in the previous sentences was what she was pinning her hopes on.
It was kinda pathetic but Bonnie didn't care. After co-managing a group of girls whose sole purpose was to hook up with the loves of their lives, Bonnie was willing and desperate enough to look to anything that would give her that one last chance of happily ever after.
Oh Kenny, if only you knew how much she felt for you.
Well, look at it this way, Bonnie-girl. This was one more chance to have that fantasy of yours become a reality! A last chance if you will, except if she chose to attend the twentieth reunion then that would be another chance if it didn't work out. Let's hope it didn't come to that. Just imagining how she and the others she grew up with would look in another ten years was…traumatizing.
No! She needed to think positive and take advantage of whatever comical opportunities were presented to her (because they were always comical moments in those movies). Then she could be content as she returned back to Denver and get back to taking care of sick and injured children, exactly what she had been studying and learning to do, and hopefully she wouldn't come back alone.
Seeing a bus pull in, Bonnie checked her ticket to make sure that it matched the bus number. Making a confirmation, she picked up the small amount of luggage she had with her and began heading towards her destiny.
And as it turned out, it would be a horrific destiny.
Noticing and dismissing how some departing passengers were kissing the ground, Bonnie placed the largest and heaviest of her bags into storage space that was accessed from outside of the bus. It was easy finding the one with the most room, an empty one and as soon as that was accomplished, she hefted the strap of the last of her luggage and slid it onto her shoulder.
Then, no sooner had she approached the doors to the bus had she looked up and saw the last face she had hoped never to see again.
"What are you lookin' at?" the pudgy face of an all-too-familiar bus driver that had once driven for the South Park Independent School District sneered down at her from the driver's seat.
Bonnie gaped in terror. This wasn't her bus, was it? It couldn't be, it shouldn't be! But her ticket betrayed her by declaring cheerfully that this was indeed her bus. Curse you inanimate paper object!
"Well?" the infamous bus driver from South Park barked at her. "Don't just stand thar! Get yer ass on tha bus!"
Bonnie sobbed internally but showed nothing externally because this guy preyed on weakness. He could smell fear, she was sure of it! Slowly, almost mechanically, she climbed the steps into the bus, trembling under the disgruntled gaze of the most disgruntled creature to have ever come into being.
She offered a small, tentative smile, hoping to perhaps lighten the bus driver's disgruntled mood but it, like a gazelle being chased down by a pride of lions, was a futile gesture.
"What are ya standin' thar for? Sit yer scrawny ass down!" the bus driver ordered, spittle spitting out from his lips and landing onto her.
Eww…
Picking up the pace, Bonnie shuffled along and took a seat that was up front, maybe too close to the actual driver's seat but she figured that it would be safer up front than in the back. She secured her back on the seat next to her and tried to get as comfortable as she possibly could considering the circumstances.
Fingers crossed…
After a few more passengers got on, all of them blissfully unaware of the Hell they were about to enter, as well as oblivious to the other petrified passengers who had the misfortune to have to be still on, the bus driver spat out a wad of some mysterious substance from his mouth and out of the bus before shutting the doors ominously.
"Fuckin' people, think they're better 'n me, like they all important an' shit," he muttered to himself as he put the bus into gear.
Bonnie shut her eyes tightly, preparing for the worst.
They pulled out of the bus station without a single mishap. Textbook perfect.
Cracking open one eye, Bonnie had the premature thought that hey, this might not be all bad—
"What the? Dozed off there for a second," the bus driver said to himself and his grip on the steering wheel tightened. "Knew I shoulda pick up that Speed earlier."
The shrieking of tires from outside the bus as a car nearly ran itself off the road to avoid the who knew how many tons of metal barreling down the road at seventy an hour put an end to any optimistic thoughts.
"Asshole doesn't know how ta drive!" the bus driver grumbled.
If only she had a rosary, Bonnie would be on her twentieth Hail Mary. The terror was in full gear and it had only barely begun—
The bus swerved to the right, Bonnie sliding in her seat in the same direction only to switch as the bus veered left. Car horns blared from either side of the bus, tires squealed in protest, and the bus driver didn't even think of using his God given brake pedal.
"Fuckers don't…oh, so ya wanna play chicken?" the bus driver sneered and Bonnie peered up to look through the front windshield only to watch in horror as the bright lights of an eighteen wheeler drew closer and closer to them.
After that, Bonnie kinda sorta blocked things out. How did she know that? Well, everything for the next hour or so was a black blur in her head. All she knew is that one moment they were heading, literally, into certain death and the next minute everything was calm. For a second, she thought she had fainted but soon concluded that no, she hadn't. There was no indication that she was groggy or anything and she wasn't wondering what time it was.
No, her body was still tense but not like it was before. If anything, it was in the process of relaxing somewhat. Of course, she still felt like her life was in danger but it wasn't as intense as before and she did not know why that was.
Perhaps she shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. If everything was okay now, then just go with the flow and…and…
Since when did this particular bus driver know how to drive so smoothly? In fact, in all the time she had known about him and/or had the misfortune to be one of his passengers, he had never driven so smoothly before…except when he had pulled out of the bus station who knew how long ago…
Gathering what little courage she had left, Bonnie got out of her seat, careful to make as little noise as possible because the disgruntled man had the ears of a fox when it came to noises on his bus, she crept up to where the driver sat.
Snoring.
It was a sound she wished she never had the displeasure to hear. The bus driver's mouth was wide open, sucking in air so fast that it sounded like he was trying to hock something unmentionable up, and his eyes were closed.
His eyes…were…closed…
His eyes were closed!
Snapping her head up, Bonnie saw that the bus was rushing straight towards a guardrail that was only fifty feet ahead and beyond that…nothing but air.
"Wake up!" she screamed at the man who chose now of all times to be dead from the neck up. Frantically, she grabbed at the steering wheel and tried to get the bus to start turning. Because the bus driver was, well, sitting in the driver's seat and looked like he weighed five hundred pounds, he blocked access to both the accelerator and brake pedals so Bonnie couldn't slow them down to make the turn.
She continued to scream at the man, catching the attention of the rest of the passengers who also began to panic just as the front of the bus crashed into and then through the guardrail.
From that point on, all that could be said was that the bus driver died peacefully in his sleep and not like the fifty other screaming people behind him.
Charlotte "Charlie" White: Zephyr Morpheus Lee
Brianna Bower/Tucker: shesfreshtodeath
Bonnie Snyder: PinkParka
The Bus Driver: ShadowMajin
