Stan would have spent the rest of the afternoon sulking and attempting to call Wendy again for the forty seventh time, even though Kyle told him, over instant message, to let it go. Out of sheer boredom and yet another busy signal, Stan walked back downstairs and got roped into peeling potatoes by his dad. Ever since his dad had got fired on the night Obama was elected, he was on unemployment. Stan's mom had taken on more hours at Tom's Rhinoplasty, which left Randy in charge of all the family meals, much to Randy's delight and to the horror of the rest of the family.

Stan sat on a stool over the trash can with a knife and bowl of potatoes peeling very slowly and deliberately as Randy stood over the stove with his current favorite cook book, Exotic British Recipes. Stan had to shudder, British food was terrible, but he had to ask...to prepare himself.

"So uh Dad, what are you going to make tonight?"

"I'm making a special sauce with mustard, creme fraiche, white wine and a secret ingredient for the main dish. You just work on peeling the potatoes, parsnips, carrots and swede."

"Oh god not that disgusting crème Fraiche stuff again, you want a side of potatoes, parsnips, carrots and WHAT?"

Randy grinned and dropped another bowl next to his son. Stan picked up a small, purplish vegetable and turned it around in his hand.

"I want those all peeled and cut into one inch cubes okay Stanley?"

"Dad? Remember when Mom was the one making dinner and she would make her famous mashed potatoes? Those were always my favorite! Can we take a break from the crazy food for one day and make those? Like mom always did?"

Randy had his head in the refrigerator grabbing a bottle of French's mustard. "You really like Mom's special potato dish don't you? Well, don't worry, I can probably make that for you as well."

Stan smiled and bent his head over the potato he was working on: a small victory. Something edible and his favorite homemade dish to boot.

Randy still had his head in the refrigerator, looking around when he was hit with a sudden burst of cooking inspiration. "We could have the same thing we've had for years, or I can make something new." Randy held out a jar of pickled jalapenos to his son. "What do you think, Stan? Wanna try something exciting?"

"I don't really know, Dad."

"Come on, son, live a little. The only people who enjoy boring, bland food are boring and bland themselves."

At the mention of the word 'boring', Stan cringed and slipped with the potato peeler, managing to nick the top of his thumb. He gave a small yelp of pain and dropped the potato. At the sound of Stan's cry, Shelly entered the kitchen to grab a soda out of the fridge and laugh at her brother's pain.

"Haha, Stan's bleeding."

"Shut up." Stan gave his sister a dirty look and stuck his injured thumb in his mouth.

Shelly gave her brother a menacing look and started to make a fist when Randy interrupted, his back turned, busy preparing the mustard, wine and crème fraiche sauce. "Stan, go put a bandaid on; Shelly set the table-your Uncle Jimbo and Ned are coming over and your mother will be home soon."

"You're lucky this time, turd." Shelly rolled her eyes and made a big show of flinging open the kitchen cabinets to grab some plates as Grandpa Marvin Marsh wheeled himself into the already cramped kitchen.

"Randy, you coddle that boy. I lived through two world wars, Billy and a little blood never hurt anyone!"

"Ew, Dad! I don't want Stanley bleeding into the traditional English vegetable mash I was going to make."

"I was in World War II and your brother, Jimbo was in Vietnam, Randall! You decided to go off with that prissy little boy band instead of applying yourself like a man and I can see it's rubbing off on little Billy as well!"

The sound of Shelly cracking up in the dining room distracted his feuding grandfather and dad so Stan took this opportunity to escape the claustrophobic kitchen, running up the stairs into the bathroom. He slammed the door behind him and put the facet on full force, sticking his hand under the cool, running water. The cut on his hand wasn't really that bad, but for the second time that day, he had gotten out of something by showing weakness. He was free of responsibility of chores and school for now but ouch, his pride. But it was always the hierarchy in the Marsh household: Grandpa, being the oldest getting to tell everyone exactly what he thought of them on a regular basis and all the way down the food chain with Stan at the bottom being the youngest, smallest and apparently the weakest, getting the most shit. Stan put on a bandaid on his thumb and was heading back to his room to hide when the doorbell rang.

"ANSWER THE DOOR, TURD! I'M SETTING THE TABLE!"

Stan obeyed and went to greet his Uncle Jimbo and Ned.

"Stanley! How are you!"

"Hi, Uncle Jimbo, I'm fine...I guess."

"Really, Stanley? You don't seem fine…you could manage a smile, sport."

"MMM hello, Stanley." Ned said with his voicebox. He had the Irish model tonight.

Stan cracked a small smile and thought maybe his Uncle Jimbo and Ned would understand. They had been cool enough to smuggle fireworks into Colorado for him and his friends that summer they were banned. Stan was about to ask when Jimbo handed Stan a tied up plastic grocery bag.

"That's a boy, now take that to the kitchen, Stanley."

Stan headed towards the kitchen and realized the bottom of the bag was sloshing with blood and feathers were poking out of the sides. He dropped the bag in horror on the kitchen counter. Randy was stirring an orange-ish concoction on the stove top and coating a pan with butter.

"Oh good, Jimbo's here with my ducks."

"Ducks?"

"Yeah, Stanley I had this excellent recipe that calls for fresh wild ducks so I had Jimbo and Ned hunt some for me. Oh. they look great!"

Randy grinned and pulled out one of the battered and practically torn apart, dead ducks and held it in front of his son's face. Stan was reminded of the animal abuse video he had seen earlier and turned a bit green when he saw some of the blood from the bag drip down the counter and onto the floor. Randy noticed it as well and grabbed a measuring cup.

"Oh, don't let any of the blood go to waste, Stanley, it's the best part! The main ingredient in the sauce that goes along with it!"

Randy went on catching the duck blood in the cup as Stan went and sat down on his stool again. He saw the vegetables he was supposed to peel had already been done. Jimbo entered and dropped another sack on the counter. Randy eagerly ripped open that bag and pulled out a bloody rabbit carcass.

"This is really great, Jimbo. I can't thank you enough. Ever since I saw that show on how to debone and cook poultry and rabbits, I've been dying to do it!"

Jimbo's grin matched Randy's as he slapped his little brother on the shoulder. "I like killing them and with this new hobby of yours you can keep cooking them! Now what's the matter, Stanley?"

Stan had been staring at them, wide eyed and silent so Ned spoke up.

"MMm maybe the dead animals are getting to him."

"I just don't like seeing my food dead and bloody in front of me before it's cooked and I eat it."

"Nonsense, Stanley, hunting is a man's sport. You loved going hunting with me and Ned that one time."

"Now, Jimbo, you said little Stanley had trouble shooting the bunny. We can't blame him for being…sensitive."

Jimbo and Randy both fell into laughter and even Ned joined in with his mechanical voice as Stan turned red and spoke up.

"Hey, I killed that thing! Scuzzlebutt! What about that?"

The three men stopped chuckling and looked at Stan, all traces of humor leaving their faces.

"That was not cool and unnecessary, Stanley. You've got to learn that there are simply things you don't kill."

"Awh, I still don't get it! I'm out of here!"

Stan walked through to the dining room and was met by his grandfather and sister.

"Lookit there, Billy, it took you half an hour to peel one potato and you hurt yourself. I started working when I was eight and I had to peel a twenty pound sack of potatoes in twenty minutes or they beat the shit outta me and wouldn't let me eat. I tell you today these kids are soft, especially the boys."

Shelly was busy texting some guy she met on the internet from New Mexico when she looked up grinning.

"I can toughen up Stan if you want, Grandpa!"

"It's a disappointment to the Marsh family name when a boy's own sister is stronger than him!"

"But I'm nine when she's thirteen, I can't defend myself yet!"

"No excuses, Billy, it's just like Randy and Jimbo all over again but at least I had two boys then. A little physical violence is good for a young boy-builds character!"

And you grew up mean and suicidal. Stan thought to himself.

"Maybe you should teach Billy a lesson, Shelly."

Why, out of all the family members in the household, Stan's own grandfather couldn't remember his name correctly?

"Really, Grandpa?" Shelly smiled as she put away her phone and approached her little brother.

Stan stepped back against the dining room wall and slowly tried to inch himself towards the exit to the living room. Shelly grabbed the collar of his jacket, slamming him hard against the wall, right fist raised and ready as Stan struggled to get out her grasp. Out of options, Stan shut his eyes and placed one hands in front of his face in a defensive position as the other kept reaching out for some way to escape, when he heard the sound of the front door opening. His mother was home!

Shelly let up for just a second. Stan's fingers reached over to grasp the door frame and he swung himself around to the living room and away from Shelly, the momentum giving him a head start on escaping his sister as he ran to the door to greet his mother. The movement propelled him to run forcefully into Sharon, his arms wrapping around his mother's waist causing her to drop her purse and keys in surprise.

"Stanley? What's wrong honey?" She quickly returned her son's hug.

Stan looked up as Shelly's sneakered feet pounded up the stairs and her bedroom door slamming shut, the motor of Grandpa's wheelchair could he heard whirring towards the direction of the kitchen. Safe for now.

"Nothing, Mom, I'm just happy to see you!"

Sharon smiled and hugged Stan even tighter. It was nice to receive affection from her son before he grew too old to still want his mommy. "I'm happy to see you too, sweetie. I was worried about you today since you got sent home sick from school."

In a gesture of motherly affection, Sharon reached for Stan's forehead, to feel with the back of her hand. Stan frowned at this and let go of the hug, stepping back until he was out of his mother's reach.

"Mom, really I'm fine. Dad and the school really blew it out of proportion."

Sharon sighed as she retrieved her purse and keys from the floor. In less than a minute since she came home, her son went from little boy to stubborn; almost pre-teen.

"I called the school nurse after your dad took you home and she told me this is a regular thing going on between you and Wendy. I have half a mind to call up Deborah and Sean Testaburger and discuss the issue with them."

"Mom, no!"

"But I won't, not yet at least. Instead I called up one of the clinic I work at's contacts and invited someone over to have dinner with us and discuss the matter with me and your father. Hopefully your dad has cooked something normal tonight. Can you set another place setting at the table?"

Sharon headed back to the kitchen and Stan could hear the familiar sound of his mother starting to yell at his father while his dad tried to defend himself, and Jimbo and Ned laughing. Stan just stood alone in the living room, getting annoyed at the constant chaos in his house caused by the people he happened to be related to. Instead of listening to his mom Stan started up the stairs to call Wendy or Kyle again when the door bell rang once more. It briefly interrupted the arguing from the kitchen as both his parents shouted in unison.

"Answer the door, Stanley!"

Stan rolled his eyes and flung open the front door to be met with a woman with no arms, bent over with her tongue sticking out.

"Oh good, I'd thought I'd have to ring the door bell again. Hello, I'm Nurse Goodly."

Stan stared at her.

"I'm friends with Sharon? She invited me over?"

He blinked.

"Look, kid, I'd shake your hand but you know.."

Sharon came up to the door. "Stanley, where are your manners? Rita, so good to see you!" Sharon pushed her son to the side to give her friend a hug. "This is my son, Stanley."

"This is him then? He looks familiar to me. Has he been a patient at the hospital before?"

"He hasn't been in the hospital since he came down with vaginitus a while back."

"Oh, but that's a very common disease. I think I recognize him from somewhere else."

"Hey, don't talk about me like I'm not here!"

"Stanley, be respectful of our guest! It's almost impossible to get him to go to the doctor, it's why I had to call you in for a house call."

"No problem, Sharon. I guess I'll examine him now."

Nurse Goodly's bag dropped from off her shoulder and she started to undo the zipper with her teeth. Digging her head into the bag, she emerged with a tongue depressor in her mouth.

"Say ahhh." She said though her teeth.

Stan backed away from her, his back against the couch. "Don't touch me."

"Stanley! Cooperate right now or you'll be in trouble, mister!"

"Please, Mom, no. Don't make me do this." Stan covered his face with his hands as he backed towards the couch, sitting down.

Nurse Goodly spat out the tongue depressor. "You're right, Sharon. He is a handful to examine. From what I can see though he looks pretty normal. You said he had a vomiting problem? Maybe you should make a doctor's appointment."

Sharon sat down on the couch next to Stan, mimicking her son by burying her face in her own hands in frustration.

"I just don't know what to do with him anymore, Rita! Ever since he started third grade, this has been happening! I'm extremely worried about his well being!"

Beginning of third grade? When he started liking Wendy? Fuck!

Nurse Goodly's voice was muffled as she rummaged through her bag again with her face. "I'm sorry I can't do a better job, I left my prosthetic arms behind at work today. I was in a rush to get out of there." Her head popped up out of the bag in surprise. "Oh! That's where I recognize your son from Sharon. That bad snow storm about a year ago when we had that really bad power outage at the hospital. Stanley and his little friends had to help us out. You stood out because you would not stop throwing up that night. I was sure something had to be wrong with you and I would have ordered you to undergo some tests but we had more severe cases to attend to that night. But now it would probably be beneficial to you if you came in for observation. Just a night or so."

"Mom! I am not going into the hospital over this! Nothing's wrong with me for fuck's sake!"

Sharon snapped her head up, going into her familiar mode. "I am sick of your attitude tonight, Stanley! Nurse Goodly has gone out of her way to help us out and you can't even be grateful! You are on thin ice mister!"

Just then shots rang out from the back door and the Marsh family dog, Sparky started barking. Stan, Sharon and Nurse Goodly all ran into the back yard to be met with Uncle Jimbo and Ned with guns drawn at something pink on the ground, Sparky barking and growling at it.

Jimbo put his gun down. "Sorry about that, ladies, false alarm. We thought we saw your dog attacking some kind of bright pink creature and had to investigate."

Stan walked up to the pink mess and saw fluffy white stuffing coming out of it. "You mean the pink teddy bear we gave Sparky to play with? All of Sparky's toys are pink; it's my dog's favorite color."

Jimbo went up to investigate his kill as well. "I'm pretty sure a dog can't have a preference of color, Stanley, all dogs are colorblind you know."

Sharon went to investigate as well, but Ned lagged behind with Nurse Goodly, holding his voice box up with his one remaining arm. "Mmm hello. I don't think we've met. I'm Ned Gerblansky."

Sharon overheard. "Oh, Ned, this is Nurse Goodly. She's a friend of mine and sometimes works at Tom's Rhinoplasty. I brought her in to examine Stanley and get to the bottom of his little problem, but he wouldn't cooperate."

"I said I don't have a problem!" Stan spoke up from across the yard.

Jimbo caught sight of Ned and the nurse as well. "I know Ned when he gets that look on his face. Watch him try to romance her, Stanley."

Sharon noticed too at the blush appearing on her coworker's face. "Why hello, I'm Rita Goodly, I love your accent."

"MMM Why thank you mmm'lady."

Stan went up to his mom again. "How come you listen to everyone else but me?"

"Shhh, Stanley. Go get your sister and you two wash up for dinner. Your dad stopped banging pots around and cursing, that means dinner will be ready soon."

Stan grumbled at his mother's ability to believe everyone but Stan himself when he had a problem. But he obeyed and went inside.

Shelly's bedroom door was shut and slightly vibrating from the heavy bass of the generic sounding pop music coming from the entertainment system that took up an entire wall of her bedroom. The sound system had been given to her by their now deceased Aunt Flo. Aunt Flo had given Stan a gold fish...that had killed a bunch of people. Nobody in this damn family appreciated him, did they?

Stan pounded his fist on the door; trying to be heard over the sound of the music. "Dinner's ready!"

The music got switched off. His job done Stan went into the bathroom and stuck his hand under the faucet, the band aid on his thumb growing soggy as Shelly came from behind. Stan stood on guard in case she wanted to smack him in the back of the head as she usually did. But she just stood there, waiting her turn it seemed like, or just waiting to strike most likely.

"Who's come over now, turd? I heard the doorbell ring again."

The soggy band aid fell on Stan's finger, the soap making the fresh cut sting. "Mom invited some nurse she knows over."

"Why?"

"She...she thinks there's something wrong with me."

Shelly shoved her brother to the side of the sink and started putting soap on her hands. "You're taking too long, turd. And of course there's something wrong with you. Mom didn't need a nurse to tell us that."

"There's something wrong with everyone in the family Shelly. I think you all just give me shit to cover up all your personality flaws. I stick out among you guys because I'm the only one who's...normal."

Stan spat out the last word as he tried to get the last of the soap off his hands with a towel, his sister hogging the sink as usual. Shelly turned to him, eyes narrowed. She gave him a big slap across the face, leaving a soapy hand print on his cheek.

"Thanks, Shelly. You know just what to say to make me feel better." Stan wiped his face then threw down the towel and stomped down the stairs, Shelly's shrieking voice following him.

"There's nothing wrong with me, turd. Dad, Grandpa and Mom may be screwed up like you but there's nothing wrong with me!"

Stan rolled his eyes as he pulled out the TV tray in the living room. At least he could be semi-grateful that with the too many guests his parents invited over, he could eat in front of the TV with Grandpa and Shelly. With the way the night had been going, he could possibly hope he would get to choose what channel to watch, but not likely. At least from here, he could sneak eating a frozen TV dinner. Stan had settled himself on the couch and was carefully guarding the remote by hiding it in the couch cushion when his mother came up to him once again.

"No way, young man. We have not finished discussing what we are going to do with you. You're eating in the dining room, with the adults."

Stan, sick of arguing with pretty much everyone in the house, just shoved back his tray and took a seat at the table next to his uncle. He sulked in his chair as his father served everyone.

"Now I want all of you to tell me what you think! I went gourmet and exotic tonight."

Stan stared at the contents of his plate. His mother's classic mashed potatoes were dotted with bits of green: jalapenos soaked in vinegar. A scoop of what looked like grayish applesauce, but was actually a bunch of different vegetables that Stan had failed to peel correctly. Lying across the top half of the plate was a cooked top half of a duck, the head still attached. Stan declined his father's offer of trying it with the special sauce he had prepared to go with their meal. Stan watched the living room as his sister searched for the remote as his grandfather scolded her. He laughed to himself at the small bit of entertainment he was getting at his sisters expense as the adults talked amongst themselves. Ned and the nurse, their heads bent in conversation with each other with the occasional giggle at the other side of the table were getting distracting. Randy passed Stan a basket of garlic toast and Stan gratefully took a piece: at least there was something normal he could eat. He took a small bite. It was garlic-y and sweet. Goddammit.

"Well everybody, dig in!" Randy said and Stan looked in surprise as Nurse Goodly took the literal meaning, shoving her face in the plate as she ate. Shelly had found the remote so this turned into Stan's new source of entertainment. He has seen some similar eating behavior from his friend, Eric Cartman the time he had dinner at his house and Mrs. Cartman had made beefy log and cheesy potato surprise. Mrs. Cartman's cooking far surpassed what his father could come up with. Maybe Stan should be at least a bit grateful that there was never a need to overeat at his own house.

Stan was pondering all this when his mother spoke up and all the adults stopped talking to look at him. "Stanley, why aren't you eating?"

Stan looked at the duck head on his plate again. "I'm...not hungry."

"Oh I knew it! There is something wrong with my baby!"

"Mom, there's nothing wrong with me!"

Nurse Goodly looked up from her plate, jalapeno mashed potatoes on her face. "If I hadn't forgotten my prosthetic arms, I could examine him better, Sharon."

"Mmm I have my fake arm in Jimbo's truck, if you could use that."

"Oh, Ned, you are so sweet! That would be great!"

"Would you like to go out to the truck with me?"

"Yes I'd love you go out with you, Ned! Out to the truck, I would love to go out to the truck with you, Ned."

"Oh ho ho." Jimbo burst out laughing and then tried to cover it up by pretending to cough.

Nurse Goodly turned red and quickly wiped her face on a napkin on the table as Ned smirked over at Jimbo. Both quickly got up and left, out the back door.

The family continued to eat in silence at Sharon watched her son's every move. Stan had been poking his food with his fork but took another bite of the sweet garlic toast to satisfy her. The sound of his father cracking a fresh beer interrupted the silence.

"They're not coming back are they?"

"Knowing Ned, not likely. My truck is locked and he didn't even ask for my keys."Jimbo laughed as he jingled his keys, which had a rabbit's foot keychain attached to it.

Stan noticed the keychain and once again thought of the internet video. He had told Kyle to look up the address to the makeup factory and print out a map, but decided to look for himself as well, and also to get himself away from this ridiculous situation.

"Stanley you hardly touched your food! I know there had to be something wrong with you. I'm calling the doctor after dinner!"

"Mom, nothing is wrong with me. I'm not eating because of dad's cooking!"

Randy jumped up from the table. "Oh, what's wrong with my cooking now, Stanley?"

Stan spoke fast. "It's weird and gross and I hate the way this duck's head on my plate is looking at me!"

"Nothing wrong with that Stanley, it's how they did it on TV!"

"And you put sugar on the garlic bread dad!"

"That's how they do it in England!"

"What? No it's not dad!"

"Jimbo? Sharon? Back me up on this. Tell Stan he's crazy. There's nothing wrong with my dinner. There's something wrong with him!"

"Randy, sit down! What we all mean, Stanley, is maybe you do have something wrong with your stomach. We're just concerned for your well being honey."

"Yeah, Stanley, your stomach is sensitive. There's nothing wrong with my cooking!"

Now it was Stan's turn to jump up at the table. "You know, I am really sick of every member of this family trying to convince me all evening that there's something horribly wrong with me! Sorry if I fade into the background but it's because I come from a family of freaks!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Stan noticed a small green light appear from the living room entrance. Shelly was standing there with a grin on her face holding her father's video camera, happily recording the entire scene and the punishment that was sure to come.

"Stan Marsh!" Randy shouted. "I have had it with you! You are grounded for two, no three weeks. No TV, no video games, no internet and no phone until you learn how to respect the members of this family! There's nothing wrong with us!"

Randy got up and marched up the stairs to Stan's room. If Stan couldn't use the phone he'd never get a hold of Wendy this weekend and she really would break up with him! He got up to follow his father and knocked over the gravy boat filled with the homemade duck blood sauce. It splattered all over his clothing and the carpet. Stan had avoided it for a reason; it looked bad and smelled even worse. Stan started to throw up again as he tripped on his way to his room. His sister laughed as she tried out the zooming feature on Randy's video camera. The sound of stuff being taken out of his bedroom could be heard from downstairs and Sharon stood over her son.

"Mom?"

"I'm calling the doctor now, Stanley. Just go take a shower."

"Mom I'm…fine."

"Just do it, Stanley before we ground you for an entire month!"

Stan didn't want to get into any more trouble so he just got up and obeyed, the video camera following his every move.

"Shelly, no more video camera. Help me clean up this mess."

XxX

Stan took the quickest shower he could. After being called a pussy and the wrong name once again by his grandfather in the hall, he returned to his room to see the damage his grounding has caused. Usually with the lights off the on buttons from all of the electronics in Stan's room could be seen, but now it was extremely dark. Stan sighed as he flipped on the lights. His small TV, Xbox and Wii had been taken. At his desk the monitor, keyboard and mouse had been removed, oddly enough his dad had left the computer tower behind. The cordless phone on the night stand had been taken as well, even if the charger was still there.

With the only thing to do in Stan's bedroom being to actually sleep, he shut off the lights once again to take a nap. The one small glowing piece of technology left behind was his digital alarm clock. Stan grabbed it and set it for 11:45pm. He was to meet Kyle and Kenny by his clubhouse at midnight.

Authors TLDR- If you would prefer a more regularly updated fic about Stan and his family check out Play It Again Stan by John-SP150.

Also thanks to my lovely beta Mad_cow5678