Author's Note: Sorry for the wait but this chapter just did not want to get written. It was like I had to drag it out a paragraph at a time yet before I knew it, it was over 10,000 words. So perhaps the length should make up for how long you had to wait for it. Anyway, I took care to include every OC, outside of poor Devin, who was submitted to this fic in this chapter. From speaking roles to a short cameo, they are there. A couple I forgot to include so I had to stick them in at random parts but they are there. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.
Warning: language, death
Zoo-capades
As soon as the senior class had passed beyond the gates of the Denver Zoo, they had all split up into countless smaller groups, each one heading in a random direction with the intention of getting as far away from their chaperones as possible.
In one certain group, Wendy found herself with two of her close friends, neither of them Bebe. No, it was the two that she usually hung out with when her best friend was nowhere to be found.
To her right, the ever charming Mari was strolling beside her, her eyes half-lidded as if she was bored. To her left, Roxi twirled a strand of her hair around her fingers, a fading pink highlight swirling into the curl, while she chewed loudly on a wad of bubblegum.
It sometimes made Wendy wonder how she got along with two "rebels" as it were. Both dressed in darks and red, Roxi more pink than red, and both hated the "holier-than-thou" attitudes you would usually see with the more popular people. They both tried to stand out but in the end only ended up looking more like one another. And the fact that they both liked her even though for a time she was the unofficial leader of all the girls in South Park Elementary made her wonder what they saw in her. Yes, Wendy had been popular at one point but had let it go in favor of ensuring that she got into a good school when she graduated.
She was aiming for something Ivy League.
So there she was with the two girls who were trying to look as nonchalant as they could, one altering by trying to seem friendly at the same time, but only made the silence that existed between the three of them slightly awkward. Only slightly though; they were still friends so that made it somewhat comfortable.
But now, what could three teenage girls, like themselves, do at a zoo of all places and have fun? Zoo, teenager, and fun did not go in the same sentence with one another unless there was a not somewhere in it.
"How are things with Stan?" Roxi finally spoke up as they passed by the wolf exhibit, no one noticing how Mari shied away from the beasts. "I kinda noticed that there's something not right going on. What's up?"
Wendy blinked, getting her bearings back, staring at Roxi for a moment as the other girl's words were slowly comprehended. What about Stan now? There wasn't something right about it? Oh right, Roxi must have been picking up on something. She forgot all about woman's intuition again. Goes to show what you forget when you hang out with boys more than you do girls.
"Uh, did you hear me?" Roxi asked.
"Sorry," Wendy apologized. "Just thinking. I…I guess you could say there's something wrong."
"Oh? Something up with the golden couple?" Roxi asked, eyes sparkling slightly in eagerness.
"Heaven forbid that even the golden couple has no problems," Mari snorted.
"You're being sarcastic again, aren't you?" Roxi asked, looking at the other girl.
"Whatever gave you that idea?" Mari replied with a question, sarcasm just dripping from her words.
"Girls, do we really need to do this now? Here?" Wendy interrupted before sighing. "Look, there's just a little bump, that's all."
"What's the bump?" Mari asked.
"I…I think Stan might like someone else," Wendy answered hesitant to even reveal that much.
The mere suggestion had the two other girls' attention instantly and Wendy shrunk in on herself at the power of those curious eyes that were demanded an explanation. When she didn't give one right away, one of those pairs of eyes tried to prod her.
"Well? What makes you think that?" Roxi pressed.
Another sigh. This was going to be a long day, wasn't it? "He threw up on another girl, girls," she answered, her shoulders slumping.
Both Mari and Roxi blinked at her. Mari, though, understood the underlying meaning of what Wendy had said; she was just somewhat surprised with the response. Roxi, though, didn't. She had moved into town sometime after they had all turned ten and others eleven so she missed the history of Stan's oral and acidic fixation of responding to crushes. Now that Wendy thought about it, only the girls in their original class really understood the significance of Stan vomiting; other girls who moved in during the following years had missed it all.
That or they hadn't thought much of it in the first place and had ignored it.
"Wait, is this some kind of Lady Gaga thing I haven't heard about?" Roxi demanded. "Who the hell wants to be covered in someone else's vomit?"
"Someone who would want Stan Marsh to be interested in them," Mari answered in Wendy's stead. "Stan only throws up on people he likes, as in like likes. You want to keep him as a boyfriend, you got to get him to barf on you."
"That has to be some of the weirdest shit I ever heard of happening," Roxi deadpanned.
"Actually, that's normal compared to Franken-Farrah Fawcett," Wendy corrected. A second later, she berated herself for mentioning that episode again, especially since she was so involved with that one…
"Geez, this town is so fuckin' weird," Roxi grumbled as she crossed her arms.
"It's South Park," Mari replied, slightly in defense. "It's life. You get used to it or run away half-insane."
"When was the last time that last one happened?" Wendy asked.
"Charlie Sheen before he got canned," Mari answered matter-of-factly.
"Really? I can't believe I missed that!" Roxi exclaimed. "What happened? Who was involved?"
As Mari resigned herself to explaining what had happened in what the town called the "Charlie Sheen Incident," Wendy contented herself in the fact that no one was questioning her about Stan anymore. By now, the trio had come to a stop in front of the bear cage where thirty feet below them, a large grizzly bear paced from one end of its exhibit to the other, restless.
Nearby, a girl Wendy knew only as Greer peered down at the shaggy animal and sniffed at it before turning on her heel and moving on. A depressing-looking girl, Wendy thought to herself. Oh well, whether Greer or whatever her name was was in a mood or not wasn't her problem.
"Aw, and I missed all that?" Roxi pouted to Mari. "Man, I had to visit my grandmother back in Phili. How come you guys always get to have the fun stuff?"
"It's not all fun," Mari shrugged. "Wendy's thing with Stan is more entertaining anyway."
"Oh yeah," Roxi agreed before turning a sly smirk towards the more intellectual of the three. "Didn't you just say Stan might be interested in someone else? Who? Well, doesn't really matter who it is, right? You gotta reel your man in before he gets away."
Oh great, they were back in this territory. Perfect.
"I know that," Wendy scowled. "How would you 'reel' him back if it was you?"
"We're girls, we have men wrapped around our fingers," Roxi shrugged. "Show a little cooch and they're running over themselves to try and get a piece of us."
"Of course you'd mention sex," Mari rolled her eyes. "Who are you to talk? You only have eyes for 'Mysterion'."
"Hey, he fucking saved my life," Roxi defended. "You'd be grateful too if he came in the nick of time just as a bunch of rapists looking to get it on with you."
"What were you doing out so late that got you into that mess anyway?" Mari asked. "If you're not partying or drunk at one in the morning, then you're asking for someone to come up from behind and take you against your will."
"Hey! You weren't there! Don't you judge me!" Roxi snapped back, glaring at the other girl.
"Girls! Girls! Tone it down a bit!" Wendy cautioned, looking around at a few zoo-goers who were looking at them oddly. "We're in public; this is not the place to be talking about this."
"I've got your number! I know where you live!" Roxi exclaimed, apparently not hearing Wendy.
"Whatever," Mari retorted.
"C'mon guys! We're suppose to behave!" Wendy protested. "Do you want to get in trouble and not have a prom?"
While it was obvious that Mari didn't really care about it, Roxi piped up real quickly as she too remembered the principal's threat. "Sorry," she said quietly, looking away in shame.
Wendy only sighed, rubbing a hand on her forehead. She had a good feeling that this was going to be the only easy incident to defuse. There were so many others wandering around and many of them had a habit of attracting trouble no matter what for it took. This was almost like that annoying pioneer park all those years ago.
"Okay, you guys?" I need your help," Cartman stated to his usual group.
Stan, Kyle, and Kenny all shot a look at one another, each dreading the words that their tubby…acquaintance was about to utter.
Stan took it upon himself to voice the unspoken feelings the three of them had. "What is it this time?"
Cartman took a deep breath, his eyes closed as he straightened his thoughts. "I need you to help me in something incredibly important."
Kyle raised an eyebrow in skepticism. "What precisely is important?"
"Killing Timmy," Cartman answered, his eyes opening and looking at the three of them seriously.
It took a few moments as those two words slowly sank into the three boy's heads and when they did—
"What? We're not killing Timmy!" Stan yelped.
"Yeah, Timmy's cool!" Kyle defended, looking at Cartman appalled.
"You guys, you don't understand," Cartman said hastily. "Timmy is Homecoming King, right? I want to be Homecoming King. I deserve it. And Lion King logic dictates that the only way I can become king is to kill Timmy."
The three boys stared as the other as if he had just spoken gibberish.
"You still watch that?" Kyle asked slowly.
"No!" Cartman rushed to say though it was obvious he was lying. Searching for something that would distract from his shame, he picked back up on his original purpose in approaching these douchebags. "Don't you want to hear my awesome plan?"
"Do we have a choice?" Kyle deadpanned.
Ignoring the Jewrat because since when did their opinions matter, Cartman continued, "What is the one adversary that no handicapped kid can defeat?"
"Threesomes where the girls sixty-nine and you do one in the ass?" Kenny suggested.
Now it was Kenny who received the looks but as usual, he was shameless.
"No Kenny," Cartman spoke slowly as if he was speaking to a first grader. "I mean stairs."
"Stairs?" Stan asked skeptically.
"Stairs are the bane of any handicapped kid's existence," Cartman described, his eyes lighting up malevolently. The three boys weren't really disturbed by the sight; they were quite used to it actually. "It's like their kryptonite; they fall to pieces at the sight of them! My plan is to sneak up behind our king while he's in the middle of being depressed and push him down a flight. He'll be dead before he reaches the bottom and since it'll look like an accident, I will be crowned king!"
Neither of the three said anything. What could they say when they were so appalled that just the effort of saying a word was too much? Cartman had done some pretty evil stuff before but this…this had to take the cake.
"H-hey fellas!" Butters called to them even though he was only a few feet away from them physically. "Timmy's having a little trouble getting down the stairs. Could one of you go and help him?"
Cartman's eyes lit up at the opportunity that had just been presented to him. Oh fate, you were a lady tonight!
"Don't worry about it Butters, I'll help him," Cartman effortlessly volunteered. "I'll make sure the king is taken care of," he added as he headed towards the easily recognizable wheelchair and the big head that was peeking out from atop it.
"Goddamn it Butters," Stan groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
"What?" the innocent blond teenager asked, looking at the boys curiously.
Kyle sighed, knowing it was up to him to explain things. "Cartman's trying to kill Timmy out of some misguided belief that he'll become the Homecoming king. You just gave him the opportunity he needed."
"I did?" Butter asked, shocked. "B-but aren't you guys going to do anything to stop him?"
Actually…that was a good question. Why weren't they doing anything? The three of them traded looks to one another before breaking out of their stupor to go after Cartman and try to save the life of one of their better friends.
Meanwhile, Timmy was unaware of the danger that was stalking towards him. No, he was more concerned with the flight of stairs that stood before him and the animals that lay beyond. Accused stairs! If only he could speak his mind, why, he'd show them all that his vocabulary talents extended far beyond just saying his own name!
In frustration, he yelled out, "Timmy!" stressing on the "my" part. Then something caught his eye and he saw the solution to this quandary.
Cartman came up behind him, his pleasantly plump body braced to push his royal rival to his death. This was it; time to claim what was his by birthright, circle of life be damned! He threw his hands out in front of him, throwing his body forward to add more force to the push. However, he hadn't counted on Timmy, at the last second, maneuvering his motorized wheelchair away from the stairs and towards a nearby inclined slope that would take him below safely.
That left Cartman with nothing in front of him and a lot of momentum pushing him forward. And, of course, the stairs were right in front of him with no Timmy blocking them from sight.
Before Cartman could let out a curse, he fell, tumbling down the flight of stairs, hitting each step on his way down. It was painful, it was excruciating, it was an agony that he had never felt before…
It was only ten steps.
As he gasped for air after coming to his violent but sudden stopped, Timmy zoomed on by, not noticing Cartman huffing and puffing in his wake.
At the top of the stairs, Stan, Kyle, and Kenny stared dispassionately at their fallen friend.
"Who wants to go see the lions?" Kyle asked, looking at the other two.
"Sure," Stan agreed.
"Cool," Kenny added as they left Cartman where he had fallen.
"So when are you going to make a move?" Gary asked idly, his eyes focused on a toucan that was dozing off on its perch.
Kyra blinked her eyes, not really getting what the Mormon was saying. After a little thought, she figured it out. "What…what makes you think I want to?" she asked somewhat defensively.
"Well, you know you have a chance now. A better one than most girls have," Gary pointed out. "Aren't you going to make the effort to try?"
"But he has Wendy," Kyra protested. "They look so happy too. I…I don't want to mess that up. It would feel wrong."
"But what do you have to lose?" Gary inquired, looking down to face her.
"My dignity for one," Kyra huffed, looking away from the taller blond.
"Now you're just making up excuses," Gary chided with a chuckle. "What's wrong? Aren't you happy? I mean, sure, hearing that a guy you like has to throw up on you first to show that he's attracted to you is daunting but come on. At least you know he feels something for you. Even if he hasn't done anything else about it. Maybe he's waiting for you to make the next move?"
"Waiting for me?" Kyra asked, distracting herself by observing a cuckoo in the hopes that Gary would drop the line of conversation. "I thought it was the guy's job to make the first move."
She didn't know where those words came from but once they left her mouth, she saw the genius that laid within them. According to all American cinema, it was the guys that had to buck it up and ask a girl out on the first date. That was just how it was done. She wondered how Gary would get around this one, praying that it was the question that would freeze him in his verbal tracks.
To her dismay, Gary didn't even miss a beat.
"That's just a myth," he teased her. "I mean, sure, it's usually the guys who make the first move, ask the girl out and whatnot but don't you know how nerve-wracking it is for a guy to get the balls to ask a girl out on a date? It's not like we just walk up to a girl out of the blue and ask them."
"What about Kenny?" she asked, the memory of the blond in the orange parka popping up in her mind. It was the way that Gary said it that made her think of Kenny for some reason.
"Oh, him? Uh…" Gary was taking his time thinking about that one. "Well, okay, some guys actually do do that. But for the most part, we guys are waiting for the girls to come to us. We don't want to put ourselves out there, you know, and risk making ourselves look stupid. It's just, we get impatient waiting around."
"And that's why you guys always ask first?" Kyra asked, enthralled with the explanation.
"Well, yeah, pretty much," Gary shrugged. "Who wants to wait forever? If everybody did, nothing would get done. That's why I think you should make a move on Stan."
"Huh? Wait, what? But why?" Kyra protested. "Didn't you just say that he'd get impatient and make the first move himself?"
"Normally, that would happen but Stan's case is different," Gary corrected. "He's with Wendy now. He has no reason to act first. Plus, he's a guy that doesn't like to make things more complicated and if that's not it then it's making the effort to go that next step. You see, I tried to be his friend once but it didn't work out. He couldn't make the extra step to look past my religion and there was no way I was going to force myself to be around someone who would always stop themselves short because of just one thing. If he couldn't accept all of me then, then as a friend he would never accept me.
"But being passive all the time, waiting for the things you want to come to you, that's not the best way to go about life. If you wait for Stan to break up with Wendy, odds are he'll find someone else soon after who's not you and try to make a life with them. You have the chance to finally get what you want most Kyra and if you just sit here and wait for something to happen, your chance is going to go out the window and never return."
Kyra swallowed, her throat burning slightly at the words that Gary was giving to her. Some of the things he had just mentioned hit too close to home for her. It had been a fear of hers; she would finally have the chance to get Stan to look and actually see her and then lose it before she could really enjoy in it.
She had had a nightmare once about it, actually. You see, there was—
"Uh, Kyra? Are you still there?" Gary interrupted her train of thought. "Is anything I'm saying making any sense to you?"
Oops, she kinda zoned out there. What had he been talking about again? Hadn't it been about guys being scared to ask girls out but being too impatient to wait for the girls to come to them? She thought there was something about passivity in there somewhere but she couldn't be too sure.
Gary sighed as he scratched the back of his head. Kyra noticed that he looked tired, perhaps for the first time since she became friends with him. It was like he was an old man trying to make everybody happy but never quite succeeding. For some reason, that look just didn't look right on the blond's face. Gary was suppose to be sunlight with rainbow skies and gumdrop smiles.
"It's all up to you now," Gary finally said. "I can't help you get what you want when you yourself won't make that last step. I can only go so far with you; the rest is all up to you."
For some reason, Kyra felt like she was witnessing something profound, something that held so much meaning and yet she could only understand a quarter of it. What was it that she didn't understand?
Not for the first time, she felt lost even as she was surrounded by so many people, all of whom were running from to and fro, not even paying her the slightest bit of their minds.
"Cartman, stop following us!" Stan ordered as the group entered into the primate area of the zoo. While the three of them wanted to enjoy their time here, they were simultaneously trying to get away from the one person who was messing it up.
"No guys, I'm positive this one is going to work for sure!" Cartman exclaimed. He was still a bit scuffed up from his fall down those stairs but he was still able to walk much to the other boys' woe. Looking around, he exclaimed, "This is perfect! We're near the gorilla cage!"
"Why is being close to the gorillas perfect?" Kyle asked tiredly, internally reprimanding himself for encouraging the larger boy. He must be out of it, he swore.
"Silly Jew, don't you know?" Cartman taunted. "Gorillas may be peaceful, oversized chimps but they can be violent as hell. All you have to do is look a male gorilla in the eyes and he'll go crazy and rip you apart. It's like you're challenging his authoritah and he needs to prove to you that he's the man of the house that his bitch ought to be in the kitchen where she fucking belongs!"
"Odd how that seems so familiar," Kyle muttered under his breath, getting a chuckle out of Kenny.
"What's so funny, Kenny?" Cartman asked, his voice cajoling. "Don't believe me?"
Kenny froze slightly, suddenly getting a sense of dread as well as that feeling he had that told him something lethal was about to happen. He didn't get that feeling often but when he did, he was usually alert to his surroundings.
Maybe he shouldn't stick around here for too long…
"Let's get out of here," he suggests to the other two. "This sounds so lame that by sticking around, we'll be lame by association."
"That sounds like a good idea," Stan agreed.
"Ey! Where do you assholes think you're going?" Cartman demanded.
"As far away from you as we possibly can," Stan told him bluntly. "Go kill Timmy on your own; we want no part of it."
Nearby, Brianna Vargas gave the four an odd look and slowly walked away, whistling as if to say she hadn't heard anything.
Soon, Cartman found himself all alone as the other three made their escape. As it always was, anger replaced the lost feeling the husky teen felt and he shouted after the three turncoats, "Fine! I will! When I'm king, I'll make you all suck on mah balls or something! You'll regret this!"
Damn, he felt lonely.
Glancing towards the gorilla exhibit, Cartman spotted a silverback gorilla in plain sight, just minding its own business. It would be simple to get Timmy over there…
Nah, that was a stupid plan. He knew he could come up with something better. He'd prove it to those assholes and they'd be sorry, especially Stan and Kyle. He really hated those guys.
Behind him, Timmy passed by, moving at an accelerated rate and saying his trademark, "Timmy!" He sure was having a good time here.
Now this was passing annoying and entering into aggravating. Bain had always known that she had a deathwish but really, hadn't Charlotte grown out of that phase yet?
She was probably in some kind of mood, Bain couldn't tell, he had never been good at reading other's emotions. Body language, absolutely, emotions, always eluded him. Hmm…maybe it was because he didn't have any?
Scratch that last part, he noted. He had a few, most which were anger-related. Funny how he hadn't used to get angry so often until after Charlotte moved into town?
"Geez, that's twice now," Charlotte continued to comment to him teasingly, reminding him of his failures to triumph over than goddamned bus driver. "One time I could let go but that's the second time in the same day. You're losing your touch Bain and don't say I'm making you soft. We both know that you always were a softy under that antisocial skin of yours."
…he was going to have to beat it into her head that he wasn't a "softy" as she called him, didn't he? Now that was a statement that was easier said than done. In physical conflict, Charlotte won about ninety to ninety-five percent of them. That was why he stuck to his stronger forte of psychological warfare. She was physically strong but her mind was her weakness.
Still, he was more pissed off at that obese specimen of a homo sapien that was the bus driver. Two bouts and that sick son of a bitch had been the triumphant one. And Charlotte was only directing his ire towards her than from where it originated.
He needed to cut something, preferably someone. The sight of spilling blood ought to assuage him until he could get off of this Godforsaken trip.
"You've been off your game," Charlotte said, hiding her concern for him. Because it was hidden and he wasn't paying attention, he missed it entirely and only heard the teasing part. Apparently, even she noticed that he hadn't picked up on it and decided to forget subtlety. "Alright, what's up with you?" she ordered more than demanded.
He eyed her before promptly looking away to focus on the beasts around him. Funny how all of them weren't in cages as they walked around with their hot dogs and sodas and pointed obnoxiously to the animals that were imprisoned in manmade apparatuses. Mindless cattle, all of them.
"Is it because we—" Charlotte began to speculate when he didn't answer her. However, he just happened to know where she was going and knew that he had to cut her off. No sense letting any of these idiotic, evolved baboons know about his private matters.
"No, that couldn't be further from the truth," he said snippily. "Now be quiet. I'm hunting."
"Here?" Charlotte asked incredulously. "Publicly? You've got some balls, you insane bastard."
"Ha. Ha," he laughed dryly. "Wrong again."
"Again with the riddles, huh," she grumbled. "Can't you ever be straightforward for once?"
"It's not my fault you're blind as a bat and as smart as one," he retorted. "My prey has been within eyesight the entire time."
She glared at him, raising an eyebrow at his last statement. "First of all, fuck you. Second, you're telling me you're stalking someone? Here? It's not Rhiannon, is it?"
Bain paused as the reminded of his spectrum-shaded adversary came to mind. "I wasn't…now. Hmm, what are the odds that I could get her alone? There are a bunch of "man-eating" carnivores around here. It could look like an accident."
"Another time, cowboy," Charlotte grunted. Bain was pleased with himself at the fact that the girl who he was exclusive with was beating herself up for reminding him of one of his longer-held grudges. "Just spare me the suspense and tell me who pissed you off in the last hour."
"Didn't Daddy ever teach you how to pay attention to your surroundings?" he questioned back slyly. "He's only thirty feet ahead of us."
He found himself in a headlock as reward for his effort but he could tell that she wasn't too offended by his mentioning of her deceased father. Maybe. Well, her lock wasn't as tight as it usually was and he found he had quite a bit of breathing room so that had to count for something. That or she was slightly distracted by looking for a male that was thirty feet away from them.
Her headlock slackened as she finally spotted who they were tailing this entire time. "What the hell? You were talking about that asshole?"
"Glad to see you've caught up," he taunted. "And please, don't assume that I'm shadowing Mr. Woods out of concern for those whores' welfare. That would not only be insulting me but insulting your father as well."
A second later he was making his acquaintance to the brink and mortar that made up a small restroom. Hmm, a lot of pores in that brickwork.
"I thought it was mutual that we were never to bring him up," Charlotte growled into his ear. Oh, the vibrations were going into his ear…and heading southward. "Tear me apart all you want, never bring up my family."
"And if I don't?" he challenged, a cheek scraping against the rough brick.
"You should know by now," she said darkly, the fun of this back-and-forth vanishing immediately. Ooh, looks like he crossed the line again.
"Very well," he agreed. Searching through the corner of his eye, he saw that his large, blond prey was prowling away. Better settle this quickly or he'd lose sight of him and then waste precious time trying to find him again. "I'll give you a break on that front but perhaps you could release me now? That asshole as you affectionately called him is getting away."
Charlotte increased the pressure she had, forcing his body into the brick for a second before letting him go. Taking the time to straighten out his trenchcoat, he moved around the girl and continued after Mr. Woods.
Good, he hadn't gotten far.
"What is it you're looking for?" Charlotte asked as she returned to his side. "Are you studying him, trying to figure out his weakness?"
"No, I'm trying to figure out how to get my hands on his wallet," he answered her without a qualm.
She froze in her step but he didn't pay her much heed. Once she got her wits back, she'd be beside him again.
"You have got to be fucking kidding me," she said emotionlessly. "What happened? You're going down from serial killer to petty thief?"
"What does it matter?" he shot back. "Unless Daddy taught you how to pickpocket, which I doubt he did, shut your trap so I can concentrate."
When she was silent for longer than was necessary, Bain paused and eyed his significant other. Many would replace that with his better half but those many were also the people he dreamt about gutting when he was too bored to do anything else. Still, this silence wasn't like her unless he had inadvertently come upon something that she had hoped to keep a secret.
When she hadn't removed that look of shock she had fast enough, he knew then that he had inadvertently come upon something. Interesting.
"Why dear Charlotte," he cooed. "Daddy taught you everything, didn't he?"
"Fuck. Off." Ooh, she certainly didn't want to get into this train of conversation.
Too bad.
"So when were you going to inform me of this little detail, hmm?" he asked casually. He'd be playing with Winslow right now but he had a feeling that a large knife in the middle of the zoo would be panic-worthy for all the beasts in here. The animals would be fine since they had their cages and enclosures.
"It was never any of your business and still is!" she exclaimed, shoving past him.
"What do you want?" he asked, deciding to skip through the pleasantries. "If it's food…sigh…I'll pay for your lunch. Every cent of it."
When she stopped and looked at him curiously, he felt his hope that she wouldn't take him up on that offer dry up. If she accepted…this place would empty his wallet faster than a concession stand at a baseball stadium.
He died a little inside when she said, "You'd better."
Fuck.
Before he could say anything else, she was marching off to Rod's side. Conspicuously, he kept himself slightly out of sight, not wanting any of that pretty boy's harem to spot him. He looked away for a moment, glaring at the small monkey that had climbed its way towards him and was hanging onto the chainlink fence beside him.
Sneering at the animal, he said, "Fuck off."
When Charlotte returned, Rod Woods' wallet in hand, she noticed Bain was wiping a brown stain off his face.
"Do I even want to know?" she asked wryly
"No. No you do not," Bain muttered.
"Fine," she rolled her eyes. "This is what you wanted, right?" she asked as she tossed the leather billfold to him.
Snatching it out of the air, Bain opened it quickly and skimmed through it, ignoring the dollar bills cradled within it. Sure he could probably filch a couple for Charlotte's lunch but he held more respect for Rod. Not really, though; he just made it a policy not to rob males blind but females were free game.
"Anything?" Charlotte asked, bored.
"Maybe," he answered softly. Pulling out a credit card, he raised an eyebrow at it and mumbled, "Hello…"
"What?" Charlotte asked.
"What's a high school teenager doing with his own credit cards?" Bain wondered out loud, spying something on the card that made him smirk. "Especially when neither of the cards has his name on them."
"What?" Charlotte asked, confused.
"Look," Bain said, pointing to a corner of the card. "You see that name? Jonathan P. Solms. Here I thought it was Woods."
"It could be a stepfather," Charlotte suggested.
"Maybe," Bain agreed. "But then again, maybe not. And look at this one. Patricia S. Woods. A mother, obviously, but what mother would willingly give a credit card to an irresponsible teenager?"
"A very stupid one," Charlotte answered for him.
"We're on the same page, it seems," Bain commented as he stuck the card with Patricia's name back into the billfold, pocketing the other one.
"Now you're on to credit card theft?" she asked.
"Research purposes," he said flippantly. "I think it's time to do a little investigating on Mr. Rod Woods, wouldn't you say?"
Christophe found himself in an odd little group. For one thing, there was only one girl in it and two, there were three guys, himself included. It wasn't odd because of the 3:1 guy to girl ratio but mainly who made up the group makeup. First there was his ex-girlfriend who was more friendly with him than she had been in a long time, next there was the auburn guy he had taken in and "experimented" with, and lastly there was a very androgynous male who had received a lot of comments of being quite a lovely-looking girl.
And here he was, a bonefide bisexual in the middle of some very decent looking people. And he was French so he couldn't look at something without seeing some kind of romantic application to it.
Best he distract himself with the orangutan over there…who was giving him a raspberry. He could think of a dozen other things that hairy monkey could do with that tongue, hon hon hon—God-cocksucking-damn it.
He had always told himself he would never use that stereotypical French laugh, not even in his own thoughts.
"I think he's jealous," Rhinannon told him, gesturing to the orangutan who was still making a mockery of him. "Maybe he wants to be my next boyfriend."
"I'd be jealous too if ze girl I loved was on ze arm of anozzer man," he replied. "Zeems we both 'ave good tastes, eh?"
"You're so full of yourself," Rhiannon jested though her smile did not fade one bit.
Nearby, Sawyer was busy trying to be an attentive boyfriend, at least that was what he was doing from Christophe's point of view. Newly christened as "boyfriends," it seemed like they were already acting like a married couple. Sort of. Not to the extent that Charlie and her boy toy were. Charlie's relationship had already progressed to the point where each one was trying to murder the other. Sawyer's on the other hand…what could he say, the pair looked good together when Christian wasn't sulking.
Currently, Christian only had his bottom lip sticking out and Sawyer was trying to figure out what was the best way to turn that not-quite-frown upside-down. Christophe didn't consider it much of a frown than a pout but Sawyer seemed a bit…energetic? Zealous? Well whatever, he was like a busy-bee, trying to be a good boyfriend but probably overdoing it.
At least Christian looked to be taking it in stride; he hadn't smacked Sawyer upside the head yet but the French mercenary thought he spied a hand flexing every now and then, wanting to meet with an unsuspecting cheek or arm.
Sawyer needed to chill and let the love flow by itself.
"They really seem close," Rhiannon commented, observing the sight of the two boys. "Aren't they being a little bit public about it?"
"Non, not from ze way Sawyer is hovering," Christophe replied.
"Huh? What makes you say that?" Rhiannon asked, looking up at him questioningly.
"Even zough we know better, from where we stand, it looks like zey are close friends," he explained. "Look how close zey are. Zere is at least maybe two, zree feet between zem. "Zey are close enough but just far apart zo zat et doesn't look odd. I guess you could say zey are in ze 'friend zone.'"
"Just like we are," Rhiannon giggled. Pausing, she said, "Now that I think about it, that wasn't a very good pun."
"What puns are?" he asked rhetorically.
"Well…good ones, I think," Rhiannon pondered.
"An obvious answer," he acknowledged, "and a correct one, I suppose."
"You know, sometimes I wonder," Rhiannon said, obviously changing the topic. "What does it take to get out of the 'friend zone?' Not everyone wants to stay there…especially with someone that they love."
"I am not ze person to ask zat. Even I don't know et," Christophe admitted.
"What if there isn't any right answer?" Rhiannon asked rhetorically. "What if there isn't any 'right' way to do it? How would you try to get out of the 'friend zone?'"
"Well, I would go up to ze person I liked and tell zem zat I wanted more zan friendship," he answered. "Pussyfooting a'ound 'as never been my way of doing zings. I guess zat is where I fail at being a Frenchman."
"Straight to the point, huh?" Rhiannon commented. "At least you know what you would do. I don't even know where to start."
"Maybe you 'ave," Christophe said. "Don't you still want to eat my shirt?"
"Yes," she answered immediately, unconsciously, and caught herself only after the fact. That blush on her face still amused the mercenary no matter how many times he saw it. "I mean…uh…I…"
"Maybe for lunch, zen," he said looking straight ahead and keeping an eye on the other couple. "I 'ope you're 'ungry."
"Stop!" Rhiannon protested, her face reddening further.
"I do not zink so," he sang. "Every time I see you like zis, et makes me want to devour your face wiz my lips. I 'ope you don't 'old zat against me."
Slipping an arm around her shoulders, he led her towards where Sawyer and Christian had wandered off. He had a feeling that today might be a good one…for them at least.
Craig and Clyde stared blankly as Cartman returned their looks intently.
"You want us to do what now?" Clyde asked, wondering if he had heard correctly the first time.
"I don't know how to simplify this any further, Clyde," Cartman said in frustration. "I need your help in pushing Timmy into the snake exhibit. Handicapped people are terrified of snakes; it goes right up into their reptilian brain and since they are unable to use their higher functioning brain parts, they only understand the baser ones."
"Why should we help you?" Craig deadpanned. "We hate you."
"I'll pay you both fifty bucks," Cartman stated.
Both Craig and Clyde looked at one another. Fifty bucks? While that may have been a lot when they were in junior high and a fortune when they were in elementary, that was just pocket change now.
"Two hundred," Craig corrected Cartman. "Each."
"What? That's highway robbery!" Cartman blustered.
"Take it or leave it," Craig shrugged. "Timmy's cool. It'll take at least that much to make it worthwhile."
"You unbelievable assholes. Fine. Okay. Whatever," Cartman huffed. "I'll pay you both after the job is done and none of that half now, half later bullshit."
"Whatever," Craig said though that was all the agreement Cartman needed. Clyde, he knew, would go along with whatever Craig did so that was no issue right now. Shooting a look over to where the snake exhibit was, he saw Timmy wheeling himself in and knew that there was no more time to waste. "Okay guys, enough talk. Timmy just went in. It's now or never. Let's go!"
Cartman led the charge, not looking back to see if his new partners in crime were following. He trusted them to for four hundred bucks, especially since they weren't those assholes Stan and Kyle. He knew what their weakness was: money. Cold, hard cash. Wave a few bills around them and you were golden.
Hopefully they wouldn't let him down like the last time he had used—erm, employed them.
As they entered the exhibit, the air conditioning cooling their bodies that had been warmed by the sun outside, they found before them an impossible sight. In front of them were a bunch of wheelchairs and none of them could tell which one was Timmy's. Sure they could look for Timmy himself but they were so used to identifying the handicapped boy by his wheelchair that they couldn't pick out distinctive physical features.
"Well, what now?" Craig asked, annoying Cartman further.
"Shut up, Craig. Let me think!" Cartman scowled. "He's got to be in here somewhere… Check every chair you find!"
"Oh, that's a brilliant idea," Craig commented.
"How many times do I have to tell you to shut up?" Cartman demanded before something caught his eye. Hey, that chair looked familiar. It was taller than the others and now that he took a better look, it was but one of two wheelchairs that were motorized. Scratch that, it was one now that the other had left the building, passing by what looked like to be an exhibit that was designed to be a replica of a snake pit from an Indiana Jones movie. Why the zoo had decided now of all times to make a snake pit, Cartman didn't know but he did know that the more snakes present, the better chance of success his plan had.
That last remaining motorized wheelchair had to be Timmy's. He had only come in here a short time ago.
Cartman had to shake his head at this. Their Homecoming king was making this too easy! He was right at the side of the so-called snake pit, probably mesmerized in terror by those scaly serpents, and if it was done correctly, no one would notice that the snakes had a nice treat.
"How's it going Timmy?" he said as casually as he could, taking his place right next to the wheelchair. "Is that a new hat? Cool. Hey, wouldn't it be something if you could get closer to those snakes down there? No, no, don't say anything, we'll help you!"
At this point, Craig and Clyde had gotten into the best position to help Cartman lean the motorized wheelchair forward, far enough that Timmy fell off of it and into the pit. Looking around quickly, to see if anyone had seen them, Cartman hissed at his two cohorts to put the chair down and run for it.
As they emerged back into the warmer outdoors, Cartman let out a cackle, threw his arms out and proclaimed, "Now I am KING!"
"I wonder what he was doing with that hemorrhoid cushion," Clyde commented form behind him. "Does Timmy even get hemorrhoids?"
"Beats me," Craig shrugged before turning back to Cartman. "Alright, where's our cash?"
"Hold on a minute, jeez!" Cartman growled at the boy in blue, eyes narrowing when Craig flipped him off. Oh, when they got back to school, he was going to reinstitute beheadings. That Craig was such an asshole that he deserved it.
"Hey guys," Token greeted, a twitching Tweek following behind him. Raising an eyebrow, the sole black representative in their school asked, "What are you doing with Cartman?"
"He's paying us to whack Timmy," Craig stated. "We just pushed him into the snakes back in there." He followed up his last sentence with a thumb jerked towards the building behind them.
"What? Timmy?" Token asked, confused. "I just saw him pass by a second ago."
Cartman froze, eyes widening as he heard that tidbit of information. "Impossible!" the husky teen declared.
"I'm not lying," Token said, holding his hands up. "He's heading for the aquarium. Right Tweek?"
"Ahh! I don't know! This is too much pressure!" the blond boy exclaimed as he tugged on a fistful of hair.
Craig and Clyde looked at one another.
"Then who did we just throw into the snake pit?" Clyde asked.
"There's his chair," an elderly looking man wearing a cap with the word "Spielberg" written on it said as he lead a chubbier man in a green sweater and gray facial hair. "Darn it, how'd he get loose?" the man asked, scratching the back of his head.
"He couldn't have gotten far, Steven," the wider man said. "We put how many restraints on him?"
"Too many to count, George," Steven answered. "Damn it, we can't keep our eyes off him for a minute!"
"Uh, Steven?" George said as he looked over into the snake pit. "I think I found Harrison."
"What? Where?" Steven demanded.
Looking down into the pit, the two men saw one Harrison Ford dressed in Indiana Jones garb laying in the midst of countless snakes, many of which were slithering on top of him.
Clutching two handfuls of the serpents, the enslaved, former archeologist/starship pilot/actor uttered, "Snakes. Why'd it have to be snakes?"
Ignoring the screams and "wheees" that were slipping out from the snake exhibit, Cartman was busy throwing a tantrum, kicking a helpless garbage can that would never fall over no matter how many times it was hit.
"Motherfucking son of a bitch!" Cartman swore. "That asshole! The clever, retarded bastard! He's making this too fucking hard! Ass!"
"Maybe we should get out of here," Clyde suggested.
"That sounds like the best idea I've heard all day," Token said.
Soon Cartman was left by his lonesome and only stopped his abuse of helpless trashcans when security arrived to find out what the problem was.
With no other choice, Cartman cheesed it.
Ever felt like a failure? You know, when everything you do never succeeds and everything you touch is destroyed by the end of the day? That description closely defined just how Sunny was feeling at this moment even though she was in a place of wonder.
She was giving up. Every plan she had come up with to get even with Rod had failed spectacularly. She had tried everything but her plan to resurrect a Hollywood horror star had been the penultimate and as surely as that truck had crushed Jason, so had her hopes been. It was like there was some higher power up there that was getting off by tormenting her so.
Maybe it was because she was so depressed right now that her mother had agreed, no questions asked, about letting go on this trip. Like a zoo was going to make her feel any better. If anything, she envied all the animals she saw. They didn't have to worry about getting used by someone then get tossed aside. All their worries were about feeding time and sleeping. They had it so good…
Tired of standing around, the girl with the faded pink hair made her way to a bench and plopped herself down on it. She was so tired of this; not long ago she had seen Rod again, very much alive and giving all his attention to those fawning girls who had no idea of who he really was.
She couldn't even take pleasure in the fact that he had done the same to some other girls but unlike her, those girls seemed afraid of him leaving them alone. There were a couple here and there that she definitely knew Rod had had…sex…with. Why couldn't they see through those looks? Why?
Someone sat down beside her but she made no move to look at them even though she could feel their gaze on her. She shivered and shrunk in on herself, just wishing to be left alone.
"Have you dug those graves yet?" the person asked.
Blinking, she finally took a look at her unlikely companion and found Kuran staring her down, all alone and without any of the Goths watching over him.
Sighing, she looked back down. "I couldn't do it. I tried so many times but I couldn't do it."
Kuran only nodded and looked away. Either he got her meaning or assumed that she couldn't bring herself to try and harm Rod. There was no invitation to elaborate or anything so Sunny just kept quiet, waiting for one of them to give in.
Oddly enough, she was the one to cave in first. "Where are the others?" she asked, wincing visibly. God, she must have sounded pathetic or something.
"They didn't come," Kuran shrugged. "They said they'd rather not be like the other conformists. I wanted to go. I…like the tigers…"
He was blushing and Sunny wondered if she had found someone like her. This guy was so shy and barely said a word to anyone outside the Goths. The same Goths who hated everyone but then turned around and doted on him like he was some kind of doll that was so delicate that a mere touch would break him. You didn't have to be a genius to know that the curly-haired and red-streaked Goths had a thing for Kuran, a very obvious thing.
At least, she sighed to herself, he had people who cared for him.
"Are you going to give up?" Kuran asked.
She nodded, still not looking at him.
"Be thankful," Kuran said as he shifted in his seat, "you don't have to endure the struggle that comes with having blood on your conscious. You're a good girl. Just a bit gullible, that's all. You'll get through this."
"How do you know?" she asked softly.
"I don't," Kuran said as he stood up. "I just put my faith in God and follow the path that lies ahead of me."
Sunny snapped her head up and stared at Kuran. "W-what? But don't you hate…?"
"The others do," Kuran said. "And I'm not really Goth. I just hang out with them. I just don't like talking, that's all."
She watched as Kuran left, absolutely stunned. It was kinda hard to wrap her mind around it but at the same time she also accepted it. They really were like two of a kind, weren't they? Sunny didn't see herself ever looking at Kuran…in that way…but maybe, maybe they could be friends…if she tried hard enough. At the thought of the other Goths, she revised. Well, maybe not but at least she knew that there was at least one person in this world that understood her.
Maybe…maybe she could find a way out of this…
There was a flash of blond that caught her eye and she noticed Rod once again. She ducked her head, not wanting to look at him, all her doubts coming back in a flash. Her body trembled as it remembered that night all those weeks ago and the helplessness that had come with it. The rough thrusts, the stabs of pain that came with each one, the thought that if she could get through it, everything would be fine and she would have a boyfriend at long last. A dream amidst a nightmare that, once it had begun, had consumed her very life.
Maybe her desire for revenge hadn't been quenched just yet.
Once Rod had disappeared from sight, she allowed herself to relax. She still felt that need to cause Rod some pain, make him feel just as helpless as she had and make him regret using her and everyone else.
And then she saw her ticket.
She had been so focused on the supernatural that she had overlooked the physical. Maybe that was where the flaws in her plans had been. Why try to use something unpredictable…when you could use something that was predictable.
Now how was she going to get Bain Cynis to help her?
"Are we lost or something?" Kyle asked. "I swear, we've passed by that same orangutan three times already. Stan?"
"Just give me a minute," Stan muttered as he studied the zoo map.
"How hard is it to find where the aquarium is on a piece of shit map like that?" Kyle demanded. "Give me that fucking thing."
"I got it, Kyle," Stan scowled, elbowing the redhead away. "Just hold onto your panties or something."
"Why don't you get that thong out of your ass, you might loosen up!" Kyle snapped back. Stan flushed slightly at that and purposely turned his back to Kyle. "Goddamnit, there's nothing interesting around here to look at while you try to pretend to be literate."
"I wouldn't say that," Kenny whistled. "Would you look at the legs on those?"
Kyle gave the blond a dead look but looked to where his perverted friend was looking. He leered in disgust at the sight of a couple of his classmates who were purposely bending over, giving Kenny the kind of sight that he usually had wet dreams about.
What the two of them didn't know was that this was being played up by LESBIAN, Gwendolyn Long coaching Brittany Love and Bonnie Synder while keeping an eye out on their target. "We've got the target's attention. Brittany, ham it up some!"
"This is so humiliating," Brittany groaned. "Kenny can't possibly like this."
Meanwhile, Kyle smacked Kenny on the back of his head and crossed his arms. "Kenny, don't encourage them. Or yourself."
"Hey, I'm just enjoying what you can't," Kenny quipped. "I'm doing this for the both of us. You really should be thanking me."
"Can I quote you on that?" Kyle asked dryly. "If I recall, those were some famous last words."
"Whatever," Kenny rolled his eyes. "I'm going to go get a better look."
"Be careful, that's the gorilla cage," Kyle called after him.
Kenny, however, didn't hear him as he was too intent on getting his…close-up, yes…
"He's coming over here!" Bonnie whispered hurriedly.
"Stand up," Gwendolyn instructed. "Don't give him everything all at once. Make him work for it!"
"How did you even afford these earpieces?" Brittany muttered as she gratefully restored her impeccable posture.
"I'm rich, bitch. Just deal with it," Gwendolyn's voice hissed from the piece. "Don't pay attention to me, look at Kenny! He's practically on top of you!"
Sharing a look at Bonnie, the two knew that for the moment their cooperation would end as each sought after the same prize: Kenny McCormick.
"Ladies! Is there something I can help you with?" Kenny asked as he came to a stop in front of the two beauties. He didn't notice the tension that suddenly existed between the two girls who were subtly glaring at one another.
It was Bonnie, though, that acted first, a look of surprise forming on her face as she greeted Kenny. "Kenny! I didn't see you there. Is there something you need?" As she spoke, her words sped up as if she wanted to get it all out as soon as possible, as if expecting someone would interrupt her.
"Not really," he shrugged. "I have everything I could need right in front of me."
"That's so sweet," Brittany interrupted, cooing at the blond. "Would you like to go on another date? I had a lot of…fun…yeah, fun that last time."
"You did?" Kenny asked, puzzled. "You didn't seem to be with Damien there and everything…"
Bonnie looked put out, slightly distressed at hearing that her rival in love had gotten further with the love of her life than she ever had and she bit her lip in frustration. Kenny, though, didn't notice this as he was lost in thought. His blue eyes lit up as an idea came to him and he wasted no time in sharing it with the two girls.
"Say, why don't the three of us spend the day with one another? It'll be fun, just me and you and you, simultaneously."
Both the girl blushed as their minds supplied them with images that weren't fit for reading audiences everywhere.
"Don't think about it, just say yes," Kenny purred, trying to hypnotize the two into agreeing with just his eyes and voice alone. There was some movement behind the girls and Kenny looked up, his eyes locking with those of a silverback gorilla that had wandered towards the edge of his enclosure to get a better look at the two females that the blond was speaking with.
There was a stray thought that went through Kenny's head at that moment and oddly enough, it came along with Cartman's voice.
All you have to do is look a male gorilla in the eyes and he'll go crazy and rip you apart.
The gorilla roared and rammed its large hand through its cage, grabbing Kenny by his face and pulling him in before he could even scream.
Not that he needed it but both Bonnie and Brittany made it up for him as they both screamed.
"Oh my God! That thing's killing Kenny!" Bonnie screamed.
His eyes still trained on the map that he had managed to snatch away from a pouting Stan, Kyle said dully, "You bastard."
This was getting ridiculous, Cartman told himself. Timmy must have had used up all the luck he'd ever have in this lifetime by now. First the stairs and then tricking him with that stuntman with the snakes? Well, no more mister nice guy.
This time, Cartman had a foolproof plan.
And it involved crocodiles.
Timmy, apparently, was a masochist and was going back into the reptile section of the zoo again. Cartman had thought that once would have been enough for him but he was mistaken. However, Timmy wasn't heading to the snakes but to the larger reptiles such as the alligators, the crocodiles, and the odd Komodo dragon.
Since that asshole Craig and his guys decided to bail on him after the snake fiasco and he couldn't find Stan and Kyle anywhere, Cartman had drafted someone else to help him out with this one final plan. If this plan didn't work, he'd give up Cheezy Poofs for a day. He did not want to give up his Cheezy Poofs for a day as he could hardly go an hour without tasting their processed cheesiness.
Just think of it as added motivation to get this done right.
"Why do you want me here?" Brandon Smith asked, looking lost. "We don't hang out with each other at all. I don't even like you."
"Look, I need a patsy in case shit hits the fan," Cartman explained. "Now, here's how we're going to do this little tango—"
"What? Like hell I'm going to be a patsy!" Brandon griped. "I'm outta here."
"Ay! Where the hell do you think you're going?" Cartman demanded.
"I'm going to see myself some manatees. Manatees are fucking awesome," Brandon answered as he marched away or tried to.
"I'll give you a hundred bucks to help me kill a handicapped kid," Cartman stated.
"Do you know how bad that just sounded?" Brandon asked, giving Cartman an odd look.
Cartman thought about his words for a second. "No, I can't see anything wrong with what I said. Why?"
"Dude, check yourself into an asylum because you are nucking futs," Brandon said as he spun around on his heel and tried to get as far away from Cartman as possible. He nearly ran over Charity Simmons who yelled at him to watch where he was going.
Were those braces she had on her teeth? Yes, yes they were. On the spur of the moment, he decided to follow after the girl who was quickly heading to another part of the zoo. There was just something about those braces…something that probably had to do with the food that was messed up in them.
"Fine! I can do this on mah own!" Cartman yelled after the turncoat. Quickly, he scanned his surroundings, finding Timmy as he was passing by the crocodiles, a tanned, blonde girl at his side.
"Oh? Picking your queen already? Planning on siring a child? Not on my watch," Cartman growled.
As he drew closer to the one person that stood in his way of becoming Homecoming king, he stopped a zoo employee that was walking by and asked about the crocodiles' feeding schedule.
"Hey, it's about that time…thanks fat boy," the employee said as he scurried off.
"Ay! I'm not fat!" Cartman yelled after him.
Damn it, he got away. Well, at least he still had Timmy nearby and knew about what it was that zoos fed to crocodiles at feeding time. Anyone who worked at a zoo knew this: crocodiles' main diet consisted of eating handicapped people. Timmy was handicapped so he fit all the criteria that earned him a trip down into the crocodile pit.
Strolling up behind his king, Cartman asked the handicapped teen casually, "Aren't those some big choppers?"
"Timmy!" Timmy agreed.
"Hi Tubby," Alicia Stone, the girl not seen since chapter nine, greeted. "Oh, sorry—"
"No, it's fine," Cartman gritted through his teeth. No it was not fine but he needed to have a clear head for what he was about to do. …maybe he should throw her in as well. He was not fat, he was big-boned, Goddamn it! "I didn't notice you were there, ho," he said, unable to hold back the self-esteem damaging comment.
Timmy's attention was diverted towards him and away from the crocodiles that he seemingly was suppose to be afraid of but…wasn't. Cartman hated the look Timmy was giving him; it was as if he already knew what he was trying to do and was daring him to go through with it!
In reality, Timmy hadn't caught what he had said and was looking at Cartman so that he would repeat himself.
Ignoring the hurt look Alicia now had on, Cartman directed all his attention towards Timmy. "Wouldn't you like to get a closer look at the crocodiles, Timmy? I'm sure they'd all would be grateful to meet you, you know."
"Aren't those alligators?" Alicia asked, not looking at the sign right behind her that stated that indeed, the reptiles below them were crocodiles.
Cartman didn't bother correcting the girl. "Come on Timmy, let me help you out."
"T-Timmy," Timmy said, trying to squirm away from Cartman's hands. No, he did not want to go take a closer look at the crocodiles, thank you very much.
"Come on Timmy. Stop wiggling!" Cartman complained as Timmy struggled against him.
"Timmy! Tim-Timmy!" Timmy exclaimed.
"Why are you raping Timmy?" Alicia asked curiously, not doing anything to help the handicapped teen out.
Pausing, Cartman looked up at Alicia in horror. "What? Raping! What the hell, are you blind woman? I'm—ahg!"
Seeing that Cartman had been distracted, Timmy had acted quickly to try and save his precious skin, grabbing Cartman's head and banging it harshly against the metal railing the preventing anyone from accidently becoming croc food. He banged Cartman's head against it a couple more times before shoving the huskier teen away.
Backing his wheelchair from the crocodile exhibit, Timmy took off, wanting to go to a more safer part of the zoo. Staring at Cartman who was slumped against the railing, Alicia shrugged and left him there, following after Timmy.
A few minutes later, the zoo employee from earlier came back, looking around for something, or someone in this case, before spotting the out-of-it Cartman.
"Hey kid," the zoo employee said. "Would you like to get to know the crocodiles a bit better? Here, let me help you."
Looking both ways, the employee smirked as he pushed Cartman over the railing and into the croc exhibit. Dusting his hands, he put them in his pockets, his task to feed the crocs complete. It wasn't always easy to find a retarded kid around here. Damn those picky reptiles and their strict diets.
Coming to, Cartman looked around blearily, wondering where he was until he spotted a crocodile only a foot away from him, a hiss coming out from that long snout.
"Oh, son of a—"Cartman swore as the croc attacked.
"What tha hell happened to you?" the bus driver sneered as an injured Cartman dressed only in the tattered remains of his jacket and ripped pants, water dripping off from every part of his body, climbed up the steps into the vehicle.
"Wardrobe malfunction," were the only words Cartman said as he trudged down the bus aisle.
"You better not get any water on mah seats, fatass," the bus driver scowled. Looking back towards the bus door, his sneer intensified in its disgust. "Well if it ain't tha midget. Get your ass on tha bus, boy!"
Bain came to a stop in front of the bus driver, their sights connecting and placing the two representatives of evil back into another battle. From behind Bain, Charlie groaned and shoved her way past the two.
"Why are you so disgruntled?" Bain asked after a few minutes of the standoff. "Did something happen? Lose your family? Dog get run over by a semi? What?"
"What the hell you talkin' 'bout, boy?" the bus driver snapped. "Sit your fuckin' ass down on—"
"Is that the best you can do?" Bain interrupted. The hush on the bus became even quieter as those in the know stared at Bain appalled. Had he just interrupted one of the most resentful men on the planet? "What are you, a running gag? A joke that doesn't change and is used only to provide a quick laugh at the expense of somebody else? Have you no depth? We get it; you're a fat man on a power trip who blames others for his own faults and takes no responsibility. Why don't you get over yourself and stop trying to assert yourself like this. It's pretty pathetic."
"What would you know?" the bus driver spat. "You don't know what it's like! You and everyone else get to be developed into different characters who get to go on amazing adventures because your creators cared about you! The asshole who came up with me only made me into a one dimensional character!"
Bain blinked, not expecting such an answer as the man before him broke down.
"What am I? I'm a fucking bus driver!" the bus driver cried out. "It's all I've got!" Collapsing against the steering wheel, the bus driver pounded on the horn, the bus horn blaring with each following word. "It's all" honk "I've" honk "go-oo-oo-oo-ot!" hoooooooooonk!
Bain looked from side to side, unsure of what to do. He had not expected such a reaction and was, frankly, lost on what else he could do. The bus driver, meanwhile, sobbed and blubbered for a minute before sitting back up, no trace of any tears or snot on his chubby face.
"Now sit yer ass on the bus!" the bus driver roared into Bain's face, any signs of his psychological breakdown nonexistent.
Once again, Bain conceded defeat and trekked back to his seat, his head bowed.
"Yea, that's what I thought," the bus driver grunted before turning to glare at Mackey who had finally shown himself. "What are you lookin' at?"
"Not this again," Mackey moaned to himself as he walked up into the bus. Looking around at the students and mentally taking a head count, he said, "I think that's all of us, m'kay. How's about we start heading back?"
Mackey slowly took his seat at the glare the bus driver leveled at him. Sneering, the bus driver said, "Pussies, the lot of ya. I wouldn't bother screwin' any of yous, yous pussies are that pathetic."
The passengers quickly gripped their seats as the bus doors closed.