Yes, I know it's early to update, but I felt like it. Got a problem, punk?
Still just building the story. It's very dialogue-heavy, sorry about that.
I own nothing.
When Wendy Testaburger opened her locker on Monday, a large leather purse fell out and onto her head. Wendy yelped in surprise and picked it up gently.
"Ch-Chanel?" She whispered. Her face suddenly went red when she realized this was the exact purse she'd been eyeing at the mall with Bebe on Saturday.
"Nononononononono, no, please no." Wendy frantically pawed at the clasp and tore out the paper stuffing to find a clue, a hint, as to who left this beautiful awesome handbag in her locker.
Nothing.
Wendy backed up to her locker and sat down, pressing the bag to her face to muffle her scream.
Bebe found Wendy curled up on her side, swearing at the beautiful purse. She looked up and down the hallway, confused. Seeing no one important, she crouched down to look at her best friend, worried.
"Hey, sweetie? Whatcha doing?"
Wendy glared at her and shoved the purse in her face.
"Yeah, uh-huh. I see that. But why are you mumbling to yourself in the fetal position in the middle of the school hallway?"
"It's him again."
Bebe's patronizing grin fell from her face in alarm. "What? Are you sure?"
"It has to be. This is the exact purse I was looking at on Saturday, remember? No note, no clue, absolutely nothing!"
"Okay, calm down. We need to take this to the principal." Bebe held Wendy's arms and brought her to her feet.
"I can't! Remember when he left those amazing blue strappy heels? Principal Victoria called me a bitch and kicked me out of her office for complaining!"
"To be fair, those shoes were incredible."
"I know! I'm thinking of wearing them to prom, they totally match my dress!"
"Oh my God, they totally do! And with that silver turtle necklace? Perfection!"
"Wow, I totally didn't even think about..." Wendy paused and looked confused for a second. "No. Bebe, this is serious. I have a stalker."
"You're right. You wanna call the police? Your parents?"
"I don't know." Wendy sighed angrily at the purse. "God dammit, this would be so much easier if he had awful taste!"
…
"Esther."
"Nope."
"Red."
"Nope."
"Patty."
"Dude, really? You have no clue?"
Kyle put down his psychology textbook. "No, for once I have absolutely no idea what's going on in that messed up little head of yours. Just tell me already."
Stan smirked. "No way. I'll only tell you if you guess."
Kyle threw up his arms in exasperation. "There are 734 girls in this school. How the hell am I supposed to know which one you want to ask to prom if you don't ever hang out with them?"
"How indeed?" Stan laughed softly.
"...Wait..." Kyle's eyes widened in realization. "Wait. Oh my God. Dude!"
Stan looked up hopefully. "Yeah?"
"It's not Wendy, is it?"
Stan let his head clunk onto his desk. The study hall teacher shushed them angrily.
…
"Alright." Bebe slammed a large folder stuffed with papers onto the lunch table, startling Cartman, Stan and Kyle. Kenny came up behind his girlfriend, face screaming guilt.
"I need dates for all of you, and Kyle, so help me, if you even TRY the doll I will rip off your testicles and stuff them in your eyes."
"Kenny, dude!" Kyle looked angrily at the blonde.
"I'm sorry, man! She's really, really persuasive!"
"You thought it was funny! You laughed!"
Bebe patted her boyfriend's cheek. "You did the right thing, baby. I need real dates for everyone. Kyle, Kenny convinced me to change the seating to boy, boy, girl, girl. I had to invite Annie and Emily to the table to make it work, so be nice to them. Stan, I have a list of appropriate dates you might get along with and who I like, and Cartman, same with you." Bebe handed them sheets of lined paper. They shuffled absently through the lists and sighed.
"How come you're not on Wendy's ass about her date?" Stan grumbled.
"Wendy has offers out the yin-yang. I've been filtering them according to group compatibility and we've got it narrowed to three eligible guys, but if her stalker keeps up like this I don't even know if they'll want to ask her anymore."
Cartman choked on his soda. "Stalker?"
"Yeah, some creep has been following her around and buying the cutest accessories and stuffing them in her locker. No note, no nothing. She's freaking out."
"Oh," Cartman went white. "That... sucks."
Kyle stared hard at Cartman as Bebe babbled on and eventually ran away crying during a furious debate with herself over black or white limo. Kenny shook his head and fell heavily into his seat at the lunch table.
"Jesus," Kenny murmured, breaking Kyle's glare face. "What the hell have I gotten myself into?"
Stan patted Kenny's hand from across the table. "You gave it a good shot. A year and a half is surprisingly long, considering your girlfriend's psychotic."
Kenny looked at Stan. "What? No, dude. I mean I'm absolutely head over fucking heels in love with that girl! How the hell did I get into this mess?"
Kyle laughed. "Only you, Kenny."
The lunch bell rang and Stan, Cartman and Kenny moved to get up. Kyle grabbed Cartman's wrist and shot him an "I have blackmail and don't test me because I WILL use it" smirk and Cartman sat back down angrily. Kenny and Stan looked at them curiously, but Kyle waved them off.
"I just need to ask him something about prom," Kyle said reassuringly. Kenny and Stan hesitantly walked off.
When the lunch room cleared, Kyle leaned toward Cartman. "Enough," he said.
"Why, whatever are you talking about, Kyle?"
"Don't play dumb. That's apparently Wendy's job now. You need to grow a pair right now and ask her directly."
"What are you talking about, fag?"
"I hate you," Kyle smiled, "but I kind of owe Wendy. So you need to stop being Creeper McStalksalot and grow a pair of balls."
"Wait," Cartman said. "Wait. You actually think... will she say yes?"
"I really don't care if she says yes, no or fabulous. She doesn't deserve freaky ass anonymous stalker Cartman. At least be a man about it."
"This coming from the ginger fairy, huh?"
"Never thought you'd see the day when a gay man had more balls than you?"
"Shut up."
…
Stan couldn't sleep at all fourth period. He found this very worrying.
End chapter 2! Crappy, I know, but I'm betting there. Trust me, I'm getting there. I couldn't wait for reviews, so I'm posting this super duper early because an 800 word story is pathetic just hanging out there.
Question for you! Who did you go with to prom, or who do you plan on going with?