A/N: I hope you all enjoy this next chapter. It amazes me to think that we have already come so far! Lots of action has been building up and It's got me all excited, I hope it has you feeling that way! This story seems to be flowing very well, even without a Beta reader to help me catch all the typo's and grammar fo-pa's. Keep commenting and I will keep writing 3
-GlibCharm
Ch 12
No-one ever checked Jimmy's ID. The thing was more than obviously fake, and stated that the boy was 21, and from California. It was just something about him being a cripple that made it Taboo to ask too many questions. Jimmy having this great advantage coupled with the fact that the place had one attendant and no camera's made the South Park liquor store more than the perfect target for the gang's little scheme.
Eric and Jimmy had pulled off this little play more than once, and the one time Eric had gotten caught he had been able to weasel his way right out of it without any consequences, it hadn't been a different tenant than the one working now. With Cartman gone, it was up to Kenny to take his place.
Everyone was in position. Kenny glanced over at Craig's SUV, which was parked no less than eight parking spots down from the liquor store. Craig had already exited the vehicle and was passing the key's off to Jimmy, who gave Ken a thumbs up.
He then glanced to the other side, where Tweak was leaning against the wall of the store, smoking a cigarette. He looked extremely nervous, but luckily the cigarette was keeping his nerves at a manageable pace. The two blonds nodded at each other and Kenny took hold of the door handle and pushed himself into it.
The bell rang above his head as he entered. He knew the layout of the place pretty well. To the left side was the register which faced the back wall. It was perfectly set up for this kind of job. Along the entire counter stood huge displayed of different high paying liquor brands which shielded the entrance from the workers view. The rest of the store was divided into five aisles. One for chasers, one for wine, two for hard liquor, and one for beer.
Kenny's icy eyes scanned the place in it's entirety and then, which hand in his pocket and his hood resting against his brow, he disappeared towards the back of the store, moving down the chaser aisle, waiting for the next move.
One a few moments passed until Jimmy entered, making distinct sounds of struggle as he clanked his metal walkers together. The two were careful not to look at each other. The handicapped kid rounded the side of the front counter and came up in front of the register where the Man stood, filing away packets of cigarettes into the hanging ceiling compartments.
"Excuse me s-s-sir." Jimmy asked, looking up at him with a broad smile. The tenant's brows raised and he paused what he was doing.
"Uh, yeah…can I help you with something?"
"Oh, yes, as you can see it's rather hard for me to carry things. My friend is still shopping in the grocery store and I thought I would go ahead and get the wine he wanted." Without hesitation he leaned on one walker and reached into his pocket with his newly freed hand, "This is my ID, if you could help me take two bottles of Yankzez Shiraz to our car I would b-b-b-b-be really thankful."
The Tenant nodded his head, "Of course, sure I will help you. You just want two bottles of this here?" he confirmed, looking at one of the gaudy displays of the counter. As if anyone would say no to a cripple, especially Jimmy who was known for being quite the charmer. He always had this way with people, and he usually got what he wanted.
"Yes, sir." Jimmy said, placing twenty five dollars down between them. The man took the money, leaving the ID, and wrang-up the two bottles. After placing them into a paper bag together he pushed the ID back towards Jimmy, who slipped it back into his pocket. He patted it against his hip, feeling rather pleased with himself.
Together, Jimmy and the liquor store clerk, made their way out of the store, and towards the empty vehicle. Kenny knew his que, and as soon as he heard the bell above the door ring he reached down and snagged two cases of beer and sped to the door. He waited until the clerk was far enough away and then bounced the door open with his hip.
"Hey, Tweak." He hissed, and the other blond boy jumped, dropping his cigarette. Quickly he regained his composure and took the two cases from Kenny just as Kyle peeked from around the corner. The little train of boys rocked the cases around the side of the building and out of sight of the main parking lot, stacking them on top of one another. Sweeping a hand across his brow to clear away the beading sweat, Kenny whipped back around and hurried back into the store. He grabbed two more cases of beer and then popped back outside with them, taking a glance to see where Jimmy and the man were.
Jimmy was brilliant, he pretended to get one of his walkers stuck in the grate of a storm drain and the man was busying himself with trying to help him out of it, which Jim was making very difficult. Kenny couldn't help but giggle as he passed off the beer and went back for more.
In a rush he grabbed one of the empty boxes that were stacked beside the door and dragged it over to the hard liquor. He scooped two bottles of Jack, two handles of goose, and two bottles of expensive looking tequila. He struggled with picking the box up, the sound of glass against glass making his heart skip a beat as he wrestled it out the door.
-tic-tic-tic-tic- Kenny could practically hear the clock on the wall pounding against his ear, he knew he was running out of time quickly, Jimmy could only stall for so long-and God forbid another customer came in during this little charade.
Tweak was shaking all over from nerves and didn't seem to be able to manage taking the box from him, his palms were slicked with sweat and his teeth were chattering. He looked deathly pale. Kenny shot a glance over his shoulder, and saw that the tenant was helping Jimmy into the SUV, they were about out of time.
"Come on, Tweak! Take the Fucking box!" Tweak tried, but was frozen solid.
"Oh for Christ sake." Kenny shoved past the boy and launched the box directly into Kyle's chest, nearly knocking him over with the force of it. Kyle managed to wrap his arms around the heavy bundle and set it gently near the other's, sputtering as he tried to regain the breath that had just been knocked out of him.
Kenny looked back towards the vehicle again and was relieved to see that Craig had come out of the nearby store to stall the man, striking up a conversation with him.
Kenny slipped back into the store and lifted two bottles of coconut rum off one of the displays and tucked them up under his orange hoodie. He made his way for the door again just as a shadow darkened the other side. It was the clerk.
Kenny felt his stomach clench. He turned around quickly and booked it to the other end of the store, emptying out his jacket. It looked like he wouldn't be able to get any more out. He heard the bell and listened to the foot falls of the tender as he made his way back behind the counter. He exhaled heavily, running a sweaty palm against his brow. That was way too close.
Outside, Craig and Jimmy were in the front seats of the car, and Craig was rolling the vehicle around the corner. Tweak lurched for the side door and threw it open with a loud bang. Everyone winced at the reverberating sound.
"Jesus, Tweak, quiet!" Kyle demanded as he began to push the boxes into the car. Tweak helping guide each one into an acceptable position. Once they were all neatly organized everyone settled into their seats.
"S-Sorry!" he squeaked.
Craig was counting the boxes, and frowned. "Shit…that's all we got? Four cases of beer, one case of liquor?" He squeezed his fingers around the steering wheel, and looked away just in time to see a very shaky Kenny coming around the corner to meet them.
"You didn't get very much, Kenny." Craig said accusingly as the rest of the boxes were loaded up and the boys crawled into the back.
"Yeah well, I'm not as big as Cartman, I can't carry as much as he can." Kenny defended, looking at his handy work. "Just be glad we got what we did."
"We spent twenty five bucks on that wine shit, and I was counting on the pay off being twice this." Jimmy added. Kyle looked over at Kenny who was looking more and more frustrated with each passing work. He reached out and squeezed his shoulder, and smiled at him.
"Come on jack-asses! Craig, drive!" Jimmy demanded. Craig took his foot off the break and double timed it around the back of the liquor store towards the main road without another word.
"I think you did pretty damn good, Kenny, better than I could have done." His smile turned into a grin and Kenny managed to force one back at him.
"Haha...yeah, thanks, Kyle." He then leaned back against the leather chair and let a heavy breath escape his chest. That had been horribly stressful, he had done it but didn't want to do anything similar any time soon, Cartman could have his job back as far as Kenny was concerned.
The door was locked. Eric knew what that meant.
He stepped away from his own front door, backing up into the yard and looked up at the second floor. Yup, the curtains were drawn in the right hand window. With a heavy sigh he moved back towards the front step and crouched down. He lifted up the matt and grabbed the note and the eight dollars that were tucked there.
Eric didn't open up the folded piece of paper, instead he just tucked it into the pocket of his jeans along with the money. He could already guess what it said- something about how much his mom loved him, and to use the money however he wanted. He was going to get something to eat, he was starving. Usually knowing that his mom had a client in the house made him loose his appetite, but he was so used to it by this point that he just didn't picture it anymore.
Before he reached the side walk he bent down and picked up a small stone. He turned it over in his hand before hurling it at his mother's window. Direct contact.
"Fucking, bitch." He growled, clenching his fists. His jaw was set stiffly, and he ground his teeth together as he turned around and began to march towards town. He should have known not to come back home after mentioning that he might be hanging out with 'the guys' all afternoon. Damn his impulsivity, he had missed out on 'Booze Baiting' for nothing- a cold walk home and eight dollars.
He thought about how much he wanted to go inside and just crash on the couch, maybe pull out his hand held game system and play a few mini games. Didn't look like that was going to happen, so eating was the next best thing, he supposed. With eight dollars he could get the new double wings and fries combo with the jumbo coke. Thinking about this brought a grin back on his face, his eyes closed tightly as he walked, one fist clenched triumphantly in front of him. In fact he was so lost in his buffalo wing fantasy that he didn't see to stop himself before bumping directly into someone.
Stan also, hadn't been looking where he was going, he had been looking down at his cell-phone. He and Wendy had been texting each other back and forth for the last few hours since school had let out. He had taken a short trip to the liquor store and had bought himself a bottle of Jamison, which he had clutched in his other hand. Or—well, it had been.
When the two boys collided it was the immovable object meeting the unstoppable force. The two both crashed to the snowy pavement along with both of their cell phones, and both of their dignities-along with Kyle's freshly bought bottle of liquor, which shattered instantly against the hard ground.
Eric growled angrily, reaching a hand up to cup his forehead. How had they hit so hard, they had only been walking? He let his eyes focus for a moment, blinked, and then took in the image of Stan staring down at the wet paper bag that lay on the side walk beside them. He looked stunned more than anything, and rightfully so. He too was wondering how they had collided with such force.
Eric picked himself up quickly, brushing the dirt off the backside of his pants. Stan didn't he just sat there for a moment before slowly reaching out to pick up the back. He lifted it a few inches off the ground and then just let it go. He stood up and glared at Cartman venomously.
"Don't fucking look at me like that, you should have been watching where you were going." Eric snapped, returning the glare.
"Yeah, you too, fat-ass." Stan quipped, wrinkling his nose. "Thanks a lot." He added, gesturing to the demolished bottle.
"Whatever, pussy." Cartman responded, folding his arms across his broad chest, leaning in towards Stan menacingly. The two stared each other down in silence after this for a long moment until Stan finally spoke up.
"You owe me another bottle."
"I don't owe you shit, alchy."
"Don't even…" Stan's face was blossoming with rage.
"Oh, don't even what? Hmm. You know it's true, and everyone else knows it's true. You're a wreck dude. You may be the star basketball player but that isn't going to last long. You're going to be a looser your entire life. So you know what- here." Eric reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He thumbed through the bills and pulled out a ten, shoving it into the other boy's chest. "There, ten bucks. Go buy some more of your shit." And with that he rounded Stan and continued on his way.
