The day went by awkwardly for Stan, trying not to let all this crap get to him and failing badly. Nobody except Kenny seemed to be happy with what was going on- not even Cartman, ironically, who was still complaining about how much Stan's small kick in the balls hurt.

Eventually, the day finally ended, and Stan stopped Wendy on the way out of class. "We need to talk," he said sadly.

For a few moments, both of them stood awkwardly in the corridor, tears in their eyes. "If... if I am a girl now..." Stan mumbled.

Gently, Wendy came over and hugged him. Pausing to figure out how to say something to him, she slowly replied, "Stan... you don't seem to realize something. If you are who you are, I don't give a shit if you're a guy or a girl."

Suddenly, something clicked with Stan. This didn't feel the same as it had last night. Sure, it was nice, but there had been something more before. After she let him go, he looked at her sadly. "I... um... think we should just be friends."

Wendy's face fell. "O-OK."

Feeling very sorry for her, Stan clutched her hand softly. "Best friends, I mean."

"You'd be OK with that?" she smiled, then pulled him into another tight hug.

"Yeah, definitely," Stan replied, hiding his hesitation. He was kinda regretting this already.

With a mischievous grin on her face, Wendy added, "Maybe we should be friends with benefits."

Not getting what she could mean by the expression, Stan answered, "Sorry, I've got Kenny. He's already a friend with benefits," before walking away.

"Hi, honey! How was school?" Sharon called out as Stan entered the house.

"I don't wanna talk about it, mom," he growled as he headed upstairs to his room.

A little crumpled bit of paper fell from Stan's hand as he went. Unfolding it, Sharon recognised it as a small picture of Wendy. Heading over to her husband, she frowned, "Randy, go talk to him. Girl trouble."

"Really? He's nine fucking years old!" Randy replied crossly.

Hesitantly, Randy knocked on the door of his son's room. After a brief moment, he opened up to find a rather unfamiliar sight.

The curtains were tightly drawn shut, the room barely glowing at all in the dying sunlight. Stan's beanie was draped across his face, sobs passing deeply through the fabric, whilst his hair had noticeably lengthened over the day.

"Stan?" Randy murmured, trying not to spook him. Slowly, Stan sat up in bed almost exactly straight, the beanie slipping off to show his feminine face. He blinked a few times, but didn't look at his father.

"Stan... can you hear me?" Randy repeated softly.

Drowsily, Stan turned to him. "...Yes, my father," he replied in a sad, high voice. "Where's Wendy? Is... is she all right?"

Randy frowned. "I'm sorry," he replied solemnly. "It appears in your rage you dumped her."

The words hit him hard. Stan screwed up his eyes and wailed in protest. "I-it... can't be! J-just because... I'm a girl-" He knocked over his dresser in rage and staggered to the middle of his room, then let out a high-pitched, blood-curdling "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Looking to one side, he noticed Randy was already by the door. "I'm... just gonna leave you to it..." he mumbled awkwardly.