A/N: Ff, sorry for taking a bit longer ): I was stuck in training all week at work and, to say the least me and learning to re-route pipelines in a database is nothing short of intense and mind-numbing. Ie, can't think… can't write |D Equally, I will probably take as long for the next update… because my birthday's next week and I digress; hard liquor and writing don't go together! I'll try, though~

So anyways~ Here you go, hope you enjoy (: As always, reads/alerts/favorites and of course reviews are ~always~ adored, because no one likes writing and assuming no one cares! So thank you thank you, you are all so wonderful~

Ps.. I made it to a chapter ten! Why do I feel like that's an accomplishment? ...Idk, I'm just saying |D

Right now there's at least a hundred and fifty thoughts racing through my head, and not a damn one is remotely helpful in this situation. Situation being of course, Craig basically telling Clyde and me to go fuck ourselves.

I don't even know where to begin worrying, it's all blurring together in a confusing mass of potential reasons why Craig might of said what he did. I mean, if I at least knew why he hated me now, at least I'd know! So I could properly freak out about it, apologize profusely over it, and then promptly do whatever I could to make it up to him for doing it in the first place.

But if I don't know what I did in the first place, how am I supposed to do anything about it?!

All of this is leaving me in a state of, I don't know… shock? Which is why I'm still standing in the exact same spot I was left on the sidewalk, gawking moronically at the building. Like it's going to give me the answer I'm looking for if I stare at it long enough. I'm sure this goes without saying, but it's not helping me in the slightest. I can't say that Clyde seems to be finding any solace either, as he's standing beside me staring down the building like he's waiting for it do something.

The awkward silence looms around us a little longer, before Clyde finally cracks.

"Dude. The fuck?" A simple statement, but I'm pretty sure I couldn't of said it better if I tried.

"Ack! I know right!?"

At least I knew Clyde wasn't handling this any better then I was. This is the type of situation where normally; I would panic, Clyde would cry, Craig would tell the building to fuck itself before promptly flipping it off, and Token would either try to rationalize the situation, or begin plotting someone's demise. To say the least, leaving Clyde and me alone in any situation is a classic case of the blind leading the blind, so I suppose it's really no shocker that we're still just standing around like idiots.

And, to top it off, I still have coffee! When I'm forced to actually deal with something by myself my first plan of action is always to get coffee first. But seeing as I already have it, and it isn't helping much at all, I'm pretty much at a loss. But for good measure, just in case, I take a swig. I hate dealing with shit. It's too much pressure. And this right now? This is way, way, too intense for me to even think about dealing with.

"What should we do, dude?" Clyde gave me a lost sort of look, that basically rivaled my own.

"Gah!" I jerk involuntarily, my eye twitching a bit. "I, Jesus! I… I think we should avoid them."

"Huh?"

"It's just—What if we piss them off more!? Oh god!! They might leave us here man!!"

"No way, they wouldn't just leave us in Vegas." For just a second Clyde had seemed positive, but his look turned less than confident which did nothing short of make me paranoid about being right. "Would they?"

"They might, Gah!! I mean, we're only here for a few… a few more days right? What if we piss them off more and –nnhg- they start to really hate us and DO leave us here! I don't want to live here man, not with the mafia and hookers and drive bys! That's –way- too much pressure dude!!" I take a deep breathe, trying to subdue the shaking I started doing mid-rant, and exhale slowly. "… So… so if we just avoid them, maybe they'll just calm down and-Aagh- stuff…"

For a second he seems to be considering what I said, silently bouncing his look from me to the building, and then aiming it back to me. "I… I think that makes sense, actually."

Rationally speaking, that probably should have been a red flag for a really bad idea, seeing as making sense and Tweek aren't usually words to be used in the same sentence. Now, irrationality and me… we go way back. But seeing as we've been disowned by the tacticians of our normal group, there's no one around to remind us of that fact.

"Where should we go?" he's giving me look like he's waiting for me to tell him what to do.

And I really don't like all of this thinking. It's starting to stress me out, and I can't help but notice there's a faint throbbing starting up in my head like I'm already getting a headache. Or a stress induced brain tumor. Totally unknowing as to what we should do, or why I have to be the one to think about it, I give a downwards glance to my coffee cup. Usually coffee offers solace, or at least something to do while avoiding things, however I can't help but notice there's only a little bit left. Luckily, that's an easy fix.

I down the rest of the coffee in a chug, before twitching and looking back at Clyde.

"I think –Nngh- we should get coffee."

"I just don't get why they were so mad at us."

At least thirty minutes have passed since our disownment, and thus far our grand master scheme of avoiding the offenders has brought us as far as Harbucks. And, that's about as far as we had gotten. Apparently we're both followers by nature and without people around to tell us what to do, we're both clueless. On the bright side, though, Clyde seemed less confused at this point, even if he's far more broody, and I have another coffee in hand so I'm pacified enough at the moment. I figure, if I had to be lost and confused I should at least have coffee. It makes any situation a little easier, for me at least, despite Clyde's whining.

"Nng- Maybe, it's because you told Craig?" I'm not sure if I was going for helpful or not, but if I was it didn't seem to be working as Clyde proceeded to sulk.

"But why would that piss Token off?"

I'm sure if I would have offered myself a chance to properly think about his question, I could of given him many reasons be them logical or not. But I hadn't offered myself that opportunity because I'm quite sure a few of them Token wouldn't have appreciated very much, and thus wouldn't of helped my paranoia over being left in Vegas. So I only thought about the question long enough for me to inhale a few more mouthfuls of coffee.

"I dunno but… Craig can be really –Erck- persuasive when he wants something." Which wasn't a total lie I was feeding him. When it comes to talking people into doing things they didn't want to do, Craig was a freakin' master!

"Well if that's the reason, that's stupid."

Clyde seemed to brew while taking a sip from the frilly iced coffee I had talked him into, before getting a rather sour look on his face… that I really didn't trust.

"We should be the one's who're mad over this!"

"…Why?" Instantly I gave him a look that was nothing short of both paranoid and curious, and probably a bad idea.

While I can't say that Clyde has a way with words, or the skills to manipulate others… it really doesn't take a great deal of either to fuck with my head. In most instances, the only thing that fuels my passion to fight over ideas is when there's fear involved. Fear of death, of being arrested, of getting on a plane and having it explode, and so on… but if I really have nothing to lose, then I'm easily sold.

"Because!" He started, already getting a pissy tone in his voice that confused me, "They were the ones who got drunk and yelled at us for no reason!" The tone of his voice and upset look on his face caused me to frown. What if he was right? I bet he was right! I should be upset, I think!

"Ack! You're totally right!" With blind confidence I agreed, obviously sold with little effort on Clyde's part. "So –Ergh- what should we do now?"

Even though he had more or less sold me on the idea of being equally angry at both Craig and Token, that fact didn't really help us much in the planning department. Even less so because the idea of confrontation with them was where my line of acceptance ended. There was –no- way I would consider rivaling against them, no way man! They'd end up making us look stupid, then Craig would beat me up, and while I was unconscious Token would sell me into slavery. My acceptance of being angry with them was as far as I was going to take this.

While I hid my paranoia behind drinking coffee, Clyde's own domineer wavered as he obviously hadn't thought that far ahead yet. But he seemed to be quick enough with the ideas, because it didn't take him but a blink of an eye to shrug.

"Pft, let's just go drink."

He seemed nonchalant about the suggestion, and usually I wouldn't have thought twice about it. However, considering that Craig and Token had obviously gotten plastered before slinging nonsense at us, I find the idea of us also drinking… almost ironic. That said, it wasn't like I had any better ideas.

"Arhg—Okay."

One of the things I admire about larger cities, despite their high crime and murder levels, is their abundance of stuff. For instance, in South Park you pretty much have one bar option. If you want more, you have to go to Denver. Here in Las Vegas, on the other hand, we passed five bars just on our way to the coffee shop earlier. Not that we went to any of those, as they were all way too close to the currently tainted hotel, but all the same having options was nice.

But again, despite the possibilities available to us, we ended up taking a four block detour to a side street that was close enough to the Vegas Stripe for us to not get totally lost, but equally out of the way. So if someone was to say, look for us they'd have to put some effort into finding us. Not that I was expecting anyone too or anything, but I just figure if one is wishing to avoid something, they shouldn't do a half ass job of it, is all.

Though despite the fact that butthurt had gotten us to a bar in the first place, we had otherwise moved on. Funny how short attention spans work. That, and a few shots of hard liquor topped off with a few beers.

"So… so what would you do if we really were left here?" Clyde gave me a deviously curious look, that would have usually scared me, but instead made me think as he watched me and took a sip from his beer.

"First I'd probably rejoice because I wouldn't have to get on another –Ack- plane!" I smiled at the very thought, and mentally coined that one as a silver lining in the event of. "Then –Gah- I dunno. Maybe stick around for a few weeks… just to be spiteful."

"Oh man, that'd be hilarious!" Clyde let out a laugh, obviously amused by my comment, "Everyone would be so worried!"

I had to think about that for a second, musing; would they worry? Honestly, I figured most would be happy I was gone due to my constant annoying tics. Kind of makes me wonder if leaving me here wasn't somehow in the original plan.

"We should, dude!! We should do that tonight!" His enthusiasm, not to mention comment, lost me. Which I'm pretty sure he noticed due to look on my face and my silence.

"I mean, we could turn off our phones and shit… and stay somewhere else for the night! Let them worry and stuff, y'know?"

I lingered in silence still, thinking about it. Again, I'm pretty easily sold on ideas, and I hate to admit it but the thought is an appealing one. Not really due to me wanting to make them worry about us, because really I doubted they'd care at all. But the idea of not going back to the shared hotel suite of awkwardness fit really well into our avoiding scheme.

"That's… Ergh! That's a good idea!" Consider me sold.

My beer was abandoned on the table top as I went to fish my cell from my back pocket. For some reason it was blinking, not that I'd know why considering I usually left it on silent and only used it when I was consumed by paranoia, so I ignored it and instead mashed down the button that would turn it off. The while, Clyde went through the same motions, even if he had turned his off with a little more reluctance. Like I assume most would, considering the usual dependency people usually have with them.

My phone was slipped back in my pocket, to be neglected like it usually was, in favor of my beer. I paused with it in hand, though, for a second as I shifted an uneasy look over at Clyde feeling more then a little twinge of paranoia. Apparently I hadn't have enough alcohol in me yet to banish me from my usual mind frame.

"Do you –Ack!- think they'll actually worry?"

"Totally." He shrugged, seeming not all that concerned about it before adding, "Or they'll try to kill us."

"WHAT?!?" I couldn't help but shriek with a wave of anxiety, causing Clyde to laugh over my obvious distress.

"Sorry dude! I couldn't help it!"

As he laughed at me I really considered chunking the bottle in hand at his head, but I managed to restrain myself in favor of not having all three friends hating me in a single evening. Instead I just glared, placing the bottle back on the table… just in case I got the urge to throw it at him again.

"Jerk."

"I was only kidding!" He smiled, obviously amused with himself.

"You're still a –Nngh- jerk!" I scoffed at him, obviously missing his humor.

"Yeah yeah, let's go find a place before they try to hunt us down!" He rose with that in mind, pushing the chair back and waiting for me to do the same.

The paranoia within me spiked at the very notion of Craig and Token not only being drunk and pissed at us, but finding us as well was more then enough of a thought to make me shoot to my feet.

It didn't take us but a few minutes to leave the bar with no real destination in mind. Luckily whatever street we had already been on offered just as many hotel options as it had places to get drunk. And while none of them had been near as ritzy as the Grand neither of us were as loaded as Token, so it kinda worked in our favor in its own way.

Though options aside, considering all hotels were pretty much equally disgusting and disease ridden, we settled on a Super 8... namely because it was the closest and again, they were all pretty untrustable as far as hygiene standards went. Plus, it had vacancies! What more could we possibly ask for?

The little bell over head sounded off as I swing open the –not- automated door, because again this isn't the Grand or anything even remotely similar, and headed towards the front desk with Clyde in toe. Behind the counter was some bored out of her mind middle-aged women reading a book. Because clearly she's used to this place being a mad house, only not really.

"We, uh… need a room for the night?" He questioned her, only because she's yet to acknowledge our existence.

She doesn't bother to set her book down, just barely giving Clyde a glance, then me, before shrugging and hitting a few buttons on the register in front of her.

"$62.75" Her voice sounded about as lively as a corpses would, and she moved about as fast as one too as she used her bookless hand to grab a key from beneath the counter.

Normally I'd be concerned about this place having something to do with zombie creation, but before I can even get that far ahead of myself, Clyde interrupts my thoughts.

"Can you pay… I'm like, broke."

"Why… What? Jesus!! This was your idea man!" I glower over at him for a second, despite the fact that I'm already getting my wallet.

"Yeah but, you have a job and shit dude…" He attempts to give me some pathetic look, which I'm not buying into and rival with an unamused glare.

"Gah! You suck man!"

I fumble with a few bills that were stuffed in my wallet, shooting Mister 'oh I'm a broke college student' another look before tossing the money on the counter and snatching the key from the lady, who seems a few shades more interested in us suddenly. My response to this is naturally to glare at her too, before sticking my tongue out at Clyde. Because I am totally that mature.

"You lovebirds need a receipt?" She asks, in a clearly condescending tone which sort of makes me want to punch her in the face.

But instead I just twitch and take the money from her and shove it in one of my pockets, giving her an irritated look.

"Ack- No! I'm sure we'll have enough to remember this –Nngh- night from already. Thanks."

"I knew there was a reason I liked you!" Clyde adds without missing a chance to be an asshole, making a point to sling an arm around my shoulders while he's at it.

Sometimes I really love my friends, only not really.

Without another word we take our leave, heading back to the streets to make our way around the hotel's side to locate whatever disease ridden room we got stuck with.

"You know.. if they do kill us dude?" I glance over at Clyde, who gives me a momentarily lost look as if he forgot he ever planted that seed of fear in my head, "I'm going to –Gah!- ask that they kill you first. Just so I can… I can one last moment of happiness before I'm murdered." I say this with a partial glare, causing him to not take me seriously at all.

"I love you too Tweek."