Author's Note: As you'll find out, last chapter did have a purpose other than to put some South Park chaos into this story. However, a good amount covered here are the subplots but the main plot itself progresses a bit. In fact there is a big clue in here of what's going to take up the majority of the story. Anyone care to figure out what that clue is? Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.
Warning: language
In Which There Are Memory Lapses
Mayor McDaniels stared at the destruction that had literally occurred over night.
Now, stuff like half the town being demolished was something she had encountered more than once before. How many times had she and the townsfolk have to rebuild this Godforsaken place? Seventy times? Eighty? However many it was, she had never really faced any backlash for it.
But when one unimportant building ends up destroyed after a reported mob or whatever it was the men in town were calling it, suddenly she finds herself up to her tits in complaints to do something about it. It was just one building! And she didn't even know what it was for!
Ultimately, what was on everyone's minds was how could something like this happen in the first place? Where're the police, eh? It was their job to serve and protect them! But when she pointed out that the majority of their law enforcement came from the Park County Police Department, she was scoffed at her and a more local station was called for.
Then she reminded them of Officer Barbrady.
She would have thought that would have ended the argument. If anything, it would have directed the town's anger towards the incompetent officer. Well, that didn't quite happen.
It was like these redneck hicks thought she was responsible for everything that happened in this town! No one wanted to accept the fact that they had set themselves up for this kind of calamity and so they had to assign all blame on her!
Well, at least she had been given the authority to hire on more police officers. The demand for greater public safety might allow her to start passing some more ordinances and extending her own political power…
That could come later. Right now she needed to find some able bodied men, preferably hot because she had an idea of what the new police uniform could be. Tighter fits and shorter shorts. Ooh, she wouldn't mind a few more hot guys around here in such skimpy outfits…
"Umm, Mayor? Didn't you get that application yesterday?" one of her aides asked her. "You know, that one stupid guy who claimed he wasn't Mormon?"
"I know who you're talking about," she snapped at the idiot. God! Who did they take her for, a moron? She hadn't forgotten about their recently arrived retard/junkie. Really. She hadn't. "Uhh…where did I put that form again?" she asked out loud.
"I think you used it for toilet paper, Mayor," the aide answered her.
"Did anyone get his phone number?" she demanded, getting frantic.
"The sheet with that information was the first one you used," the aide told her.
"Then where do we find the idiot?" she exclaimed exasperated, not caring who heard her.
"I do believe he mentioned staying at his girlfriend's house at some point," the aide said.
"Alright, find out the name of the girl then look up the address," McDaniels ordered, relieved that she hadn't completely fucked up. "I'll inform him personally that a…position has opened up recently."
She didn't have to mention that anyone with a working brain would never agree to work in this town so they had to wait for a perfect idiot to land in their laps first. Lucky for them one already had.
Marcus was not presentable as he stumbled his way out of the basement, heading for the front door. He had intended to go to the kitchen and get some coffee to wake him up but then someone had begun ringing the doorbell incessantly.
Hoping that the rest of the household wasn't up, Marcus decided to answer it.
So there he was in nothing but a wifebeater and a pair of boxers, staring blearily at Mayor McDaniels who was giving him an appraising one over. She must have liked what she saw or something because she made no comment about his dress wear.
Instead, she took him by a hand and began shaking it, congratulating him on his new job.
"Huh?" he blinked, his mind not completely caught up with what was going on.
"Speechless, eh?" the Mayor said. "I'm not surprised. It's not every day that someone gets hired onto South Park's most illustrious police force. Why, we have applicants coming out the wazoo and out of all of them, I decided that you were indeed the best fit for the job. Congratulations young man!"
"I'm…I'm hired?" Marcus asked, not really believing his ears. He had just applied yesterday and to get word so soon…
"We can discuss things like your pay, work hours, and civil liberties later," Mayor McDaniels continued hurriedly. "I want you to show up at our station in town to report for duty or whatever it is cops call it in an hour. I'll take care of arrangements at the station and by lunch you should be out and about patrolling our beloved town. So get dress and eat some breakfast son because today is a big day for you!"
"A-absolutely!" Marcus stuttered, reality finally dawning on him. "Right away Mayor!"
"That's just what I wanted to hear!" the mayor said, giving him another once over. "We could use some more…fresh me—blood out there. Barbrady can only do so much and he's not getting much younger. Yeah, I believe this really is the best thing for this town."
"I'll be at the station! In an hour right?" Marcus stated while trying to make sure he had everything right. An hour wasn't a whole lot of time. He needed to clean up, get dressed, eat something wholesome, oral hygiene, the works! So much to do in so little time!
He needed to go in there dressed to impress!
"That's right," the mayor confirmed. "Don't be late!"
Marcus couldn't help but stand there in his underwear, grinning manically as the government official left. Finally closing the door, he couldn't hold it in anymore. He had to let out a whoop, yelling his jubilation. He had a job! He was employed! Oh everything was coming together! Soon he wouldn't have to live off of his girlfriend's parents and get a place of his own.
He was becoming a productive member of society and it felt great.
"Do you think you could keep it down?"
Marcus froze and slowly turned towards the kitchen where he could plainly see his girlfriend's father at the dining table, reading the paper with a cup of coffee beside him. The elder man peered over the edge of the newspaper, lightly glinting off his glasses for a second as his brown eyes focused on the young man.
"Uh…sorry," Marcus apologized, scratching the back of his head. "When…when did you get there?"
"Before you left the basement," Mr. Cynis answered calmly.
"But I didn't see you!" Marcus exclaimed. Before he could add anything to that, his mind stopped him, the memory of him coming out of the basement and heading for the kitchen before he had been stopped by the doorbell. The image of the kitchen counter shifted to a side and there indeed was Mr. Cynis at the table, taking a sip of coffee without looking up from his paper.
Whoa.
But he had been so sure that no one else had been up…
"Everybody has that reaction," Mr. Cynis commented, looking back down to the sports section. "I've gotten used to it."
Marcus tried to force something, anything, out of his mouth but any words he could come up with were mere ashes on the tip of his tongue. How could someone as large as this man be so invisible? It didn't make any sense!
Footsteps stomped down the stairs and Bain appeared, his hair mussed crazily in that bedhead style and his eyes half-lidded with both sleep and irritation. For some reason, Marcus had the urge to straighten up under the intense gaze his girlfriend's brother was shooting at him.
"Lonely?" Bain snarked. "If you're trying to wake up the household, you've succeeded."
"Oh. Sorry?" Marcus found himself apologizing for the second time that morning.
"Do it again and that's what you will be," Bain muttered as he left his spot on the last step, stomping past the older man towards the kitchen.
"Well…I just got a job!" Marcus blurting out, grinning dumbly at the teen. "The mayor just hired me as a cop!"
"Wonderful," Bain grunted.
Huh. Maybe he wasn't a morning person?
"Perhaps you should start dressing like an officer of the law," Mr. Cynis suggested, not looking away from his paper. "I don't think they take underdressed officers lightly."
Oh crap! He had to get ready! He rushed back down to the basement to grab the first decent thing he could. A towel would have to be included in that because he still needed a shower and…and there was just so much to do!
Unbeknownst to Marcus, as soon as he closed the door, Mayor McDaniels sighed as she said to her aide, "I think that went well, don't you?"
"Certainly," her aide agreed. "You really sounded sincere."
"I'm just lucky he's a complete dumbass," McDaniels scoffed. "No one in their right mind would want to work here. Applications out the wazoo my ass!"
"I believe that statement is redundant," her aide pointed out.
"I don't pay you to point out grammatical mistakes asswipe," McDaniels snapped as she got into the car. "Get us to the station immediately. I need to break the news to Barbrady and then we'll have to find something that fits what's his face."
"You don't think Officer Barbrady's going to take the news well?" her aide asked.
"No, I think he's going to take it too well," McDaniels replied. "The man has no subordinates and remember the last time he had one? This is going to put him on a power trip, mark my words."
The Cynis household wasn't the only one that had visitors so early in the morning. The Broflovskis were to share in this dubious honor as Kyle found himself singled out with his mother cooking breakfast, his father getting ready in his room, and Ike using the shower when the doorbell rang.
That and he was the closest to the door. When his mother called out for someone to answer it, Kyle sighed and did as was requested.
Let him say now that being greeted with a pair of natural red eyes was never a mundane occurrence.
"Good Morning Kyle," Damien, the Antichrist himself in all his physical glory, chirped at him. Kyle found himself squirming under the intensity of those red eyes that only stood out from the nearly pale as white skin that surrounded them.
Damien's "you'll get used to them" rang through his mind for a sec before Kyle got a hold of himself to actually behave like a normal human being.
"Hey Damien," he said, giving a strained smile. "What are you doing up so early? I thought you weren't feeling well."
"I'm doing better," Damien said, flashing him a hungry grin that was full of teeth. "There's nothing like staying in this sin-infested town that can't replenish me. The only thing that compares is home."
"But why are you here?" Kyle asked.
"I wanted to make sure you were all right," Damien replied innocently. "There was quite a disturbance last night; a Def Con 50 if I'm told right. I was up all night wondering if you were in trouble."
"I heard about that," Kyle said mildly. "Well, as you can see, I'm perfectly fine. You can go back home now or go to school if you want."
"Aren't you going to invite me in?" Damien asked, his foot scooting into the doorway so that it would prevent the door from being closed. "And what is that smell? It smells like someone's cooking a fury in hot boiling oil."
"My mom's cooking breakfast," Kyle deadpanned.
"Oh right. There's something about kosher that reminds me of oil," Damien said, giving Kyle a leer at that last part.
"Stop looking at me like you want to jump me," Kyle said.
"Aw but I want to jump you," Damien whined. "I never hear you complain about it afterwards…"
"Kyle? Is that you? Who's at the door?" his mother called from the kitchen.
"Oh…it's…" Kyle trailed off, unable to come up with a convincing lie. He could lie to his friend's faces all he wanted but when it came to his mother, he sucked at it. "It's just Damien," he called back knowing that was the last thing he should say.
"Why don't you invite him in? He can have a bite to eat," his mother said.
Kyle sighed and gave a warning look to Damien who looked completely smug. "Don't try anything," Kyle ordered as he opened the door wider, moving to a side as the black-clad hellspawn accepted the invitation.
Stretching an arm out, Damien snaked his fingers under Kyle's ushanka and into the covered red locks which he tousled. "I wouldn't dream of it," Damien said as he withdrew his hand, leaving Kyle's hat askew atop his head.
"Asshole," Kyle muttered as he shut the front door and fixed his hat.
"You love it," Damien threw him a wink over his shoulder just as he entered the kitchen.
Perversions aside, you would think that Damien was this dark, pure evil, and all around awful guy and you would be right but even Damien knew when it was a good time to be a bastard and when to essentially do a one-eighty and become the most charming person you could ever meet.
So when he stepped foot in the domain of Sheila Broflovski, he was anything but evil incarnate. "That smells great Mrs. Broflovski! I hope you won't mind having one more this morning," he greeted and praised the older woman. Somehow, Damien was keeping his high pitched voice under control so that it didn't sound like he could shatter glass just by raising it.
Yes, the Antichrist has charisma. Can you read the sarcasm in there? What, you thought the guy who was ultimately going to bring about the end of the world would be unlikeable?
No, he only behaved "normally" in front of those who knew the truth already. Those who didn't were suckers for his act.
"Why thank you Damien!" Sheila preened under the praise. "There's plenty to go around so help yourself."
His mom, the most hospitable person on Earth.
Kyle was sighing again as he trekked into the dining room and took a seat at the table, a wall blocking the sight of him from the kitchen. His stomach rumbled but he wasn't about to get up yet. It was just too early in the morning to have this much stress.
A shiver went down his spine as he felt something wet press against his cheek and the redheaded Jew cracked open an eye just in time to see Damien's abnormally long and forked tongue slither back into his mouth.
"Still so tasty," Damien said, smacking his lips. "I can never get enough of you."
"Mom's in the next room," Kyle stated.
"She's busy reprimanding Cerberus," Damien said dismissively. "The mutt's trying to beg through the window."
"Are you sure it was Cerberus? It might have been Dip or Marley," Kyle pointed out.
"You might be right on that one. I could never remember which head was which," Damien said thoughtfully. "Kitchen window wasn't large enough to see either. Only saw an eye."
"Mom will feed him…them what's ever left," Kyle said, breathing in the smell of Matzeh brie as it wafted into his nostrils. Umm, nothing like matzo fried with eggs to get you ready for the day ahead. "Cuts down on the costs of using the garbage disposer in the sink."
"Your family is spoiling him," Damien stated. When Kyle peeked over at the Antichrist, he spotted the signs that the black-haired boy…teen…demonic tyrant, whatever, fuck you, was only teasing. It looked like Damien was in a good mood today.
"There's no beef in this," Damien pouted as he stirred a fork into the scrambled mess of matzo and eggs.
"It was originally made for Passover; of course there's no meat in it," Kyle said.
"Are you trying to turn me into a vegetarian?" Damien remarked.
"No and before you ask, we don't have any human flesh laying around. Cannibalism is frowned on here if it isn't illegal," Kyle said dully as if he had said that many times before.
"But Kyle, there's nothing more satisfying that waking up in the morning and biting into someone's refrigerated, severed leg," Damien protested.
"You're about to go descriptive. Don't go descriptive," Kyle ordered. "You'll make me lose my appetite."
"You're no fun," Damien sulked.
Stan was feeling pretty good that morning. Even though his father got in late that night and forced them all to turn off the electricity because he was overreacting again, Stan's mood was not brought down when he got up that morning.
Yesterday had been great to him. He went out with his girlfriend and though they had to cut it short because Kyra needed to be somewhere, he really felt like they were connecting. For a bit, he felt like that maybe he had alienated her because she seemed uncomfortable at times but after telling him that he was her first boyfriend, he figured he knew what was going on.
He was her first time and as she explained it, she was looking to him to show her how to do this. Made his ego swell a bit because while Kyra was the expert in gaming, he was the one with the expertise in dating. She would be looking up to him this time!
It felt oddly empowering and he didn't know why.
Well, Stan wouldn't let that confuse him. He was going to ride this high like no one had ever rode it before. He pushed open the doors to the school, entering the building with a swagger in his step and the knowledge that nothing could bring him down.
"Hey Stan!" a voice shouted at him.
Stan perked up from his thoughts, automatically searching for the one who called him. He hadn't known Kyra to shout outside of when she had her game face on but he figured that he was rubbing off on her.
What he didn't expect was a girl with long black hair and red streaks weaved into it to bound at him in a tight shirt that really showed off her assets. Her very bouncing assets…
They were so bouncy…and plump…
And then arms were wrapping around his head and his face was making friends with these assets. Wow, they were so warm and firm and—
He jerked himself away, mentally slapping himself and screaming in his head that he had a girlfriend. A girlfriend!
"Stan, it's been so long!" the girl exclaimed, giving him a broad smile that showed off her dimples. "We haven't talked in forever and…"
Stan was starting to tune her out but it was for a good reason. He did not remember who this girl was though he thought her boobs were familiar. And why was he starting to sound like Kenny?
"Hey Stan? Are you listening?" the girl with the red streaks in her hair asked him. Wow, her eyes were so blue, so much so that they were almost purple. He was sure he would have remembered somebody with that kind of feature.
But why was he drawing up a blank?
Damn it, he sucked at remembering girls' names!
"Uh, yeah, I was," he said quickly, doing his best not to grimace. "It's nice to talk to you too…um…I'm sorry if this sounds douchy but who are you again?"
The girl seemed to freeze in place for a second, like someone had scratched a record on a DJ's table. Her grip on her purse tightened for a moment but then she relaxed and gave him this very charming and, if he dared say it, sultry smile.
"Don't you remember? We went out for a bit. We were a couple," she told him. "You have to remember that."
Hmm, very specific but nothing was coming to mind. It wasn't that Stan didn't remember all the girls he went out with. There were maybe four or five of them in the past eighteen years of his life. It's just Wendy was the one he had the most memories with and Kyra was the girl he was currently dating. When he put his heart into something, he really did it and his memory seemed to follow that example.
"Yeah, a little," he said, hoping to buy himself a little time.
"It's me, Gwendolyn or as I told you to call me, Ashley," Gwendolyn said.
"Where'd you get Ashley from?" Stan asked.
"My middle name," Gwendolyn or Ashley said almost exasperated. "I know I told you that before!"
He was still drawing a blank.
It was at that time that Kyle was passing by, a smirking Damien at the Jew's side with an arm over the redhead's shoulders. Kyle spotted his dilemma and with a look of suffering, he leaned close to the school's prized quarterback and hissed, "Wendy 2."
Just that name, Wendy 2, brought back so many memories.
"Oh! I remember! You're Wendy 2!" he exclaimed, proud that he recalled the girl.
"For the love of God, my name's not Wendy fucking 2!" Wendy 2 practically snarled.
"Wow, it's been so long! How're you doing?" Stan asked her, oblivious to the girl's ire.
"I was doing great until you said that fucking name," Wendy 2 grumbled. However, whatever bad vibes she was emitting stopped as she slapped on a happy face and said, "I've been doing fine Stan though I do miss the time we dated."
"Uh huh," Stan murmured, not really wanting to go there anymore. He wanted to check in with his friends and then see if he couldn't find Kyra so he could tell her last…afternoon he guessed had been great and that maybe they should do it again.
"I was thinking about how great it would be if we hooked up again," Wendy 2 pressed as she leaned closer to him, her eyes darkening with something Stan could almost recognize.
However, her words did the trick and he snapped back to the present. "What? But I already have a girlfriend!" he jabbered.
"You do?" Wendy 2's frowned at that but she didn't get lost in her thoughts like Stan found himself doing nowadays. Something he picked up from his father, he swore. "But why not give us another chance?" she wheedled, bringing attention towards her buxom breasts. "We had fun last time, didn't we?"
This was really getting awkward.
"Sorry but I can't," he stated as he pushed her away gently. "I got a girl and I'm happy with her. I…I really don't think this is good idea."
"C'mon Stan," Wendy 2 insisted.
"Can't, gotta go," he said quickly as he then unceremoniously ditched her, walking away as fast as he could. He did not want to get involved in such a stressful situation.
Gwendolyn watched as Stan made his quick getaway, the girl wracking her mind over how things hadn't worked out. She had been planning this meet-up for nearly a week! Why hadn't it worked?
At that point, Ella walked by and snagged the purse that Gwendolyn had been holding but before the other girl could get far, Gwendolyn snapped out of her stupor and barked, "Don't bother, he's already gone."
Ella stopped in her tracks and looked back at the MUFFDIVER leader quizzically. "Plan fell through before I got here?"
Ah yes, the plan. Ella had been supposed to snatch up her purse so then she could persuade Stan into trying to get it back for her. Things like adverted tragedy brought all sorts of people together and Gwendolyn had planned on using it to bring her and Stan together again.
"When did he get a girlfriend?" Gwendolyn snarled instead, her hands balling into fists. The mere pressure she was exerting was already turning her knuckles white.
"I don't know," Ella shrugged as she returned the purse, a large bruise swelling on her forehead. Gwendolyn had asked about it before but Ella had refused to spill. Something involving a masked, hooded idiot who might have been a flat-chested girl. "I think it just happened one day."
"We'll see about that," Gwendolyn grounded out. "This is not over, not by a long shot!"
Roxi felt like she was going to lose it. Everybody, or at least every girl, was coming up to her, saying it was going to be all right and that they would help her through the ordeal she was going through.
For the life of her, Roxi couldn't figure out what the hell they were talking about.
"I'm sorry that you were violated last night," Bebe Stevens told her sincerely.
"It must have been so awful! It's amazing that you came to school today!" Violet Robins exclaimed as she hovered around her.
"We failed you Roxi. Can you ever forgive me?" Wendy asked sorrowfully.
"This is just too funny for words," Mari chortled as she recorded every moment on a camera that Roxi was sure shouldn't have been brought to school.
"I hope you can recover from the trauma," Brittany Love tried to comfort her. "It must have been so horrible."
"Girls? I don't know what you're talking about," Roxi managed to interject.
Silence all around her. And then…
"It must have been so horrible that you repressed the experience!" Wendy exclaimed. "Oh Roxi, you poor, poor thing!"
"Don't worry Roxi, we'll get the bitch back," Bebe declared.
"Just so you know, us LESBIANs will be here for your every need," Brittany promised.
"I don't know what you're talking about but the last thing we need around here is another lesbian," Wendy glared at Brittany. "Hasn't Roxi been through enough?"
"Hey, it's…that was badly worded but I didn't mean any harm!" Brittany argued.
"You should know better than to invite her to some lesbian orgy especially after what that raping, lesbian prowler did to her!" Bebe scolded.
Huh. A raping, lesbian prowler? Why did that sound familiar? Let's see…oh yeah, Wendy had that get together last night! And she had called the night before to tell her about some lesbian rapist that had tried to break…into…her…room…
Oh. Oh for the love of—!
They were talking about her! Le Chat Noir, she meant! They were talking about Le Chat Noir raping her. But wasn't she Le Chat Noir? How could she rape herself? Oh, now her head was hurting!
"Fucking gold," Mari muttered, ignored by everyone else there as she continued to film.
"Are you really okay Roxi? You don't look good," Wendy asked, the girl the very incarnation of worry and concern.
"Can I get some space?" Roxi asked as she rubbed her thumb and pointer finger against her forehead. "It's kinda getting hard to breath around here."
"You heard her girls! Back off!" Bebe announced.
Okay, that was better. The sense of claustrophobia she was getting from too many people hogging up her personal space was easing.
"How are you Roxi? Really?" Wendy pressed. "I swear, we're going to make that bitch pay for what she did to you."
Really, right now all Roxi wanted to do was scream that she—er, Le Chat Noir was not a Goddamn lesbian rapist! She really needed some alone time and—hold on, was Mari recording all this? That bitch! Why wasn't her faithful assistant in her fight on crime helping her out?
"I need some alone time," she said as she nearly shoved her way out from the group of concerned girls, snatching Mari along the way. "Here, I'll take Mari just in case! See you guys later, gotta go, bye!"
Despite the distance she had put between her and the group, she still overheard Violet Robins saying, "Wow, she must really be suffering."
For the love of Christ.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Mari demanded as she struggled to get out of the stressed girl's iron grip. "I was getting so much footage back there!"
"Mari, you gotta tell me what those guys are smoking!" Roxi cried out. "How did they come to think I'm some kind of lesbian prowler trying to rape them? I'm trying to help them!"
"I taped everything that happened last night," Mari shrugged. "I already uploaded some of it onto Youtube. I got, like, ten thousands hits already on the song."
"They sang a song?" Roxi wailed, appalled that she had missed taking part in it.
"Yeah, there's a bunch of trolls commenting that it's a ripoff of a Disney movie," Mari rolled her eyes. "What kind of loser still watches Disney movies when they're not eight?"
Roxi looked away, not saying a word.
"But that wasn't the best part," Mari continued. "I also got Stan Marsh's dad running up and down the streets. He was shouting about something called Def Con 50. I didn't get what the hell he was talking about."
"Mysterion said something about that," Roxi mentioned. "He and—oh, I gotta tell you this! I found myself a supervillian last night!"
"You what?" Mari deadpanned.
Completely forgetting about her previous misery, the pink highlighted brunette began rambling. "He showed up out of nowhere and Mysterion knew him! The way they talked, it was like they were archnemesises!
"I think that's archnemeses," Mari corrected.
"Whatever," Roxi said. "It's like my prayers have been answered! Once I defeat this villain, Mysterion will have to take me seriously as a superhero! He just has to!"
And any meaningful conversation that could have occurred had gone down the drain by now. Sighing, Mari asked, "So what does this 'supervillian' call himself?"
"I think it was Professor Chaos," Roxi said slowly, her browed creased as she used her brain for once.
"D-did you say Professor Chaos?"
Both girls turned away from each other to see Butters standing only a few feet away from them, shuffling on his feet nervously.
"Yeah. You know him?" Roxi asked, eyeing the nervous blond up and down.
"Why, he's the bringer of destruction and doom!" Butters proclaimed. "The scourge of this town who makes lives of everyone he meets a living heck! A heck I tells ya!"
Roxi almost squealed in delight. This was too good to be true!
"How come I haven't heard of him?" Mari cut in, looking at Butters skeptically.
"Because to say his name is to summon him here," Butters said solemnly. "It's one of those unspoken secrets if you know what I mean. The people who have suffered because of him, makes me want to go home and hide under my bed if you know what I mean."
"Not really," Mari said.
"Give him a break!" Roxi reprimanded. "He's probably met this guy and was traumatized!"
"Like you were with that lesbian rapist?" Mari teased back.
"Whoa! You were raped by a lesbian?" Butters exclaimed.
"No I wasn't!" Roxi cried. "Are people here idiots or something! I was not raped!"
"Wow, she must have been raped something awful," Butters whispered to Mari.
"You don't know the half of it," Mari said. "She was messed up way before that."
As Roxi fled for her life, Brittany shook her head at the poor girl. She must have really been suffering. Brittany herself hadn't been raped by a lesbian but she figured that it had to be extremely horrible.
"She's such a strong girl," Wendy sighed as she began walking away, Bebe at her side. "I know I wouldn't be able to go to school after going through all that."
"I take back almost everything I ever said about her," Bebe swore.
Noticing that the group of concerned girls was breaking up and that quite a few of them were MUFFDIVERs, Brittany thought that was a good time for her to leave as well. She needed to get back with her fellow LESBIANs and maybe figure out a way to use this against the MUFFDIVERs. She had no qualms that her rivals would be doing the same thing. Even as she walked away, she was sure that Gwendolyn and her new crew were trying how to pin everything on them.
Well, they were going to see about that!
First she needed to see if she could find any LESBIANs around, maybe check to see if Kenny was nearby before Bonnie could beat her to him, and try to come up with some plan.
That was when DJ turned around a convenient corner and said "Boo."
Brittany jerked back for a second before she regained her composure. "Don't do that!" she scolded. "What are you, five?"
"You should treat me better; I am doing your spying for you," DJ said, her eyes narrowing at the other girl.
"Did you get anything?" Brittany asked, eager. The MUFFDIVERs must have met recently or something. That meant DJ must know what they were up to!
"I did," DJ said idly as she examined her nails, saying nothing more.
Brittany frowned. "Well?"
"Well what?" DJ replied, nonplus.
"What do you have to tell me?" Brittany demanded, wondering where this disobedience was coming from.
"A lot," DJ shrugged, "so long as you have something for me."
"Um, we do?" Brittany said hesitantly. That's right, they had a deal with this girl. But what was their side of it again?
"Give me the dirt I want and I'll tell you everything that happened at Gwendolyn's late night meeting," DJ said.
Dirt? Why would DJ want dirt? Oh wait, she must be talking about graveyard dirt! Bonnie had called her corpse girl before.
"Yeah, right away, but could you give me a hint of what's going on?" Brittany asked.
"Not going to work," DJ said clinically. "Tell me what you found on Bain first then I'll tell you everything you want to know."
Huh? Why did she want dirt from someone named Bain?
"You did get some info on Bain, right?" DJ growled edgily. Brittany found that she was very uneasy around this girl. DJ was so unlike any other girl that she knew and that included that bitch Gwendolyn and the lesbian rapist that was going around.
Wait, information? Oh, that's what she meant by dirt! Duh! Why the hell did Brittany think she was talking about dirt, you know, the kind that was on the ground and guys like rolling around in? Jesus Brittany, you gotta get your head out of the clouds!
Her blonde moment out of the way, Brittany soon realized that no, none of the LESBIANs had done anything to keep up their end of the bargain with DJ. Since DJ was demanding her payment first, they wouldn't be able to learn what Gwendolyn had up her sleeves. Then when the MUFFDIVERs did act, the LESBIANs would be taken by surprise and forced to munch the carpet!
Brittany could not allow this!
"Just…just give us a bit!" Brittany said hastily. "Don't throw away what you got, please! We'll get you something on Bain!"
"Better hurry up, I'm going to have ditch this," DJ said, holding up a folded piece of paper, "before anyone figures out I made it. Not a lot of time, you know. I might be able to keep it past third period but lunch is pushing it."
"We'll get something! Don't worry! It'll be juicy, I swear!" Brittany declared while simultaneously pleading with the other girl.
Okay, now what did this Bain guy look like again? Brittany prided herself on knowing and remembering everybody in the school, from what they looked like, to who their friends were, to what their personalities were like.
Let's see, who were the all the guys…there was Kenny, his friends Stan, Kyle, and Cartman, there was Craig Tucker with his friends Clyde, Token, and Tweek, Jimmy Volmer, Timmy Burch…um, Butters, that Mole guy whose name slipped her mind right now, that Mormon guy—Gary! His name was Gary!—that Jake guy who was so in the closet…
Huh, other than some miscellaneous guys who showed up here and there, she was kinda drawing blank. That couldn't be right. Who else was there? There was the dirty kid, that brown haired guy with the glasses, another who liked dressing up in blue—oh, there was that Star Wars fanatic Kevin Stoley, and there was that really crabby guy in the black coat.
Wait, the guy in the black coat? That was familiar and so were some memories of screams, a metal fork almost being stabbed in her back and—
Oh no, DJ couldn't possibly mean him! The Bain she was talking about was that Bain Cynis guy! Was that girl out of her mind or something? No one wanted to be involved with him! The guy was a dick, an asshole, a freaking creep that always said that girls were stupid and should stay in the kitchen where they belonged. Well, there was Charlie White who hung around him but it was general consensus that not everything was right with her. She was still cool but Brittany wasn't going to be hanging out with her any time soon.
But DJ wanted dirt on Bain? There was something wrong with this girl, without question.
Yet, if she wanted dirt on the MUFFDIVERs, she needed to get dirt on Bain.
Oy.
As students hustled and bustled about, Cartman sauntered into the school, trying to look as smug as smug could be.
This was mainly to mask his manly shame of being made a bitch to his dubbed "bitch" but he wasn't about to admit to anybody what had happened. No, he would give them his version of things, how he barged into her house and demanded sweet, sweet sex from a very willing and submissive girl and that he was cool and that was just how he rolled.
He could do this. He was going to prove that everyone were assholes and Kyle was a single loser. He would should them all!
"You're late," Brianna stated from his leaning position against the lockers.
Immediately, all the bravado that Cartman had had that morning drained out of him.
"S-s-s-sorry!" he stuttered fearfully, looking down at the floor.
A moment of silence. "Well?" Brianna asked irritably.
Cartman swallowed, not looking up at her.
"Where's my good morning?" Brianna asked idly.
Oh! He was supposed to greet her! That's what she had told him to do after she had dismissed him—now hold on a damn second! He was Eric Theodore Cartman! He wasn't anybody's bitch, much less this bitch's bitch! She was his bitch if anything!
"Now wait just a damn minute!" he began to yell but one stern look from Brianna that promised a lot of sexual torment reduced him to saying meekly, "Good morning."
"That's better…though your disobedience will be accounted for," Brianna nodded at him. "Come on."
Cartman stared after her as she began to walk off. The further she was from him, the less submissive he became and soon his indignation began rearing its head again.
Who did she think she was? He was going to show just who was in charge here!
And lucky for him, he could see a few of the guys up ahead. Craig, Token, and Stan were the ones he had direct sight of but he could tell it was a group of them so there were probably a couple others.
What better way to show his awesome dominance over his bitch than in front of the guys? Just by being there they would make sure that he didn't lose his cool. Brianna, you were about to learn your place!
He began hurrying after the girl, trying to time things so that she would be close enough to the guys that they would be able to see and hear them. When it came to timing, there was no one else better than Cartman. He of all people knew that timing was the key to the impact of every action you did and how others would react. Sometimes, only a second could mean the difference between someone eating out of your hand or seeing right through your deception.
Brianna was nearly ten feet away from the guys when Cartman caught up with her and before another step was taken, he demanded out loud, "What'd you think you're doing, bitch?"
Brianna froze up at his language and lo and behold, the guys were glancing over at them, wondering what had happened to cause such a cool guy like him to start shouting. This couldn't get any better, he could see Kyle between Stan and…was that Damien? Freakin' fag; once a fag, always a fag, that's what Cartman said.
"Care to repeat that?" Brianna asked him, her voice dull.
"You heard me, bitch," he said, placing an emphasis on the last word. "Where do you think you're going without my permission? Eh? Speak up!"
Brianna's brown eyes darkened and pierced right through him. Cartman suddenly found that his heart was pounding in his ribcage and he felt the urge to curl up into a ball and start crying.
Without warning, Brianna grabbed his nose, her hand curling into a fist with the piece of flesh gripped between her middle and ring fingers. She jerked his head down and pulled him towards her. Trying to free his nose, Cartman reached out with his hands to try and pull her off but then she jerked upwards and he began clawing at the air.
"You know, I was going to let you off with a spanking," Brianna told him casually. "Now I see I'm going to need some extra discipline. I hope your man titties are tough because when I'm through with them, we'll both be surprised if they don't fall off.
"Now fucking apologize before I have to get medieval on your ass. Now."
"I…I'm sorry," Cartman managed to get out, his voice nasally due to Brianna blocking his nasal passages.
"I'm sorry, I didn't quite hear that. Speak louder," Brianna ordered as she raised her nose-gripping hand higher.
"Aah! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Cartman nearly wailed.
"Not good enough but it'll do," Brianna said as she released his poor nose. "Meet me after school. We're going to my house for your discipline."
"Y-yes ma'am," Cartman stuttered, looking down as he clutched at his nose.
Sniffing, Brianna looked away from him and caught sight of their male audience. Giving them a "what can you do?" expression, she shrugged and carried on walking.
The group remained quiet, watching Brianna leave for a minute before turning back to the humiliated Cartman. "So that was the bitch you were talking about yesterday?" Craig asked.
"Care to rephrase what you said?" Stan asked, smirking at him.
"Fuck you guys!" Cartman yelled at them. "Screw all of you! Imma going ho—"
"I'm not getting younger over here! Chop, chop!" Brianna yelled at him from down the hallway.
Meek again, Cartman hurried off after the other girl. Inevitably, the fires of his rage grew again as he heard the guys laugh at him. Oh, they were so going to get it. He was going to make them all pay for this.
But how?
That was when he spotted the signup sheet for Prom Queen and King nominees and a devious idea began forming in his head.
Marcus was almost jittery as he drove up next to the SPPD station. The building was kinda small, in his opinion, but this was where Mr. Cynis' directions had led him. He had no cause to doubt his girlfriend's dad so he bucked up and got out of the car, heading for the front entrance.
After so long in the academy, here he was, Marcus Cole, about to enter his first job as a real police officer. How could he not be giddy? From here it was learning the ropes and gaining experience so that sometime in the future, he could transfer out to a large department. Nothing like a city, though. Even Marcus knew his limits and from all the stories he had heard at the academy about city police, it was just too demanding of a job.
A town was better for someone like him. Marcus liked being a friendly guy and talking with people. In a city, he would have to be more reserved and more tough.
Didn't hurt that there wouldn't be much crime in a town either.
Through the doors he entered, squaring his shoulders as he spotted the mayor and her aides all gathered in front of a desk. Hearing him come in, the mayor turned her head around and said, "There he is, right on time."
"Mayor," he greeted, tipping his head down for a second in greeting.
Turning away from him, the mayor continued speaking to a man that Marcus couldn't see just yet. It was most likely his superior, he guessed.
"Now Barbrady, I want you to show the kid the ropes, get him settled in, and remember, you. Are. Not. God. We don't want to lose another one," Mayor McDaniels lectured.
"Sure thing," the voice of an unseen man said. There was a lackadaisical drawl to it and Marcus didn't know whether to relax or be bothered. The unseen man sounded real laid back, maybe a bit too laid back but Marcus decided to reserve judgment for a little while longer.
"That's what you said last time," the mayor said and it sounded like she was rolling her eyes as well. She turned back to the young man and said, "It's great to have you here kid. We have your uniform right here but for now, I want you to get to know the man in charge here. Rookie, meet Officer Barbrady."
She stepped to a side, revealing an overweight man in a tight fitting blue uniform. Despite being in doors, he wore a traditional police cap and had on a set of sunglasses that he should probably take off. Barbrady exhaled loudly, as if something was in his throat but other than that, did nothing but stare Marcus down.
"Um, good to meet you sir?" Marcus offered.
"Ditto," Barbrady said. Those sunglasses were a bit unnerving as Marcus couldn't see the officer's eyes. For all Marcus knew, Barbrady could be glaring at him or was showing gratitude. He just couldn't tell…
"Seems like you two are getting along," the mayor said. "I'd like to sit around but I have a town to run so I'll leave you two to get acquainted." As she led her aides towards the front door, the mayor paused for a moment and leaned in towards Marcus. "Oh, kid? Good luck. You're going to need it."
Marcus took his eyes off Barbrady to watch as the mayor left and as soon as the doors closed behind her, he was back to looking at Barbrady.
"You're the new kid, huh?" Barbrady said, scratching at his gut.
"I think we went over that but yeah, I am," Marcus answered as he stood tall.
Barbrady seemed to lean forward in his seat, as if wanting to get a closer look at him. "You know? You remind me of my father…" Marcus swallowed at that, wondering if this man had some bad experience with his parent. The way he trailed off certainly suggested that he "hated his father." Instead, Barbrady shrugged and said, "He was okay."
Marcus didn't know whether to gape or say anything about that.
"I've been told that you're going to be my new deputy," Barbrady said. "I have high expectations of my deputies, perhaps the highest in the nation. I want you to follow my orders and uh…I think that's about it."
"Alright, I can do that," Marcus said. Maybe he had been psyching himself too much for this day.
"Great," Barbrady said. "Now for your first…uh, order, I want you to…"
Marcus leaned in, eager for whatever his superior had to say.
"…get me a coffee."
Marcus blinked stupidly. Eh, okay? He looked around for the coffee machine and found it on the far side of the room. Was this guy serious?
"I take it with one sugar and a shitload of milk," Barbrady said.
Well, if this is what his senior officer wanted…
A couple minutes later, he was at Barbrady's desk, placing the coffee mug in front of his fellow officer. "Is there anything else?" he asked.
"No, I can't think of much," Barbrady shrugged as he picked up the mug, the liquid sloshing about. Taking a sip, Barbrady nearly slammed it down next to a small stack of what looked like clothes, some of the coffee jumping out of the mug and onto the pile.
"So…where's my uniform?" Marcuse asked.
"Oh, that's right here," Barbrady patted the coffee-stained stack of clothes. "I think I might have spilled something on it," the officer said as he lifted his hand off the uniform and looked at his wet hand with a frown.
For perhaps the first time, Marcus began to wonder if he had made a mistake here.
