::Grannies Gone Wild – Double Standard::
"A Christmas party?"
The very suggestion made Dee's parents exchange glances at the dinner table, eyebrows raised high.
"I suppose it couldn't be any worse than Thanksgiving..." Mom posited, considering the idea while idly taping her spoon around the edge of her mashed potato. Dad had roasted a pork loin with spiced apple slices rolled into it, served along side some pretty basic buttered carrots and mash, all of which could be drowned in gravy if one was so inclined. "And that was pretty fun, despite the mess."
"Oh, it didn't take that long to clean up." Dad returned jovially, his eyes having lit up within seconds of considering it. "And it was great to finally meet our neighbors after all this time. Hosting parties, hanging out with other parents- this is what it means to be part of a community. This is what we wanted when we moved here, right?"
"I just remember how Vernice was, and she's already said she wants to come by again for Christmas..."
Wait, what? Grandma Vernice is coming to visit...? … well, this just got interesting.
"My gammy is coming to visit, too!" Butters announced to the table, spinning it as a positive. "Everyone can get to know each other."
"What about your family?" Mom quested to dad. "The house was fit to bursting last time..."
"My sisters already have their own tradition with mom and dad." Dad shrugged. "I'll tell them we're doing something, but we probably won't see them if they've already got plans... though, they might ask us to visit them sometime before or after, while everyone's off work. What about your brother and his family?"
"Flying down to Florida to escape the cold." Mom reported. "He's been bragging about it to me since he booked the trip. I told him to enjoy changing diapers at ten-thousand feet."
Kenny snickered, having already cleaned his plate and reaching for extra potatoes, very much in the drown everything in gravy school and using the extra starch to sop up the dregs. "Heh... savage."
"Wonder why they didn't invite Vernice..." Dad muttered sarcastically.
"Apparently they did, but she refused." Mom gossiped. "Said the heat doesn't agree with her, but Tom figures she knew it was a pity invite."
"... and us having her for the holidays isn't a pity invite?"
"We'd have to invite her for that to be the case. She just decided." Mom shrugged. "Turns out, not all that much has changed in the last decade and some. Even if I did tell her no, she'd probably show up anyway."
"Well then, having extras in the house will just give her other people to be a bitch to." Dad smirked, quickly turning the conversation back his way.
"- Honey, you can't just call my mother a-"
"Massive raging bitch with extra bitchy disease?" Dee interjected, cutting off her mother while her mouth was still open. "Calls 'em likes we sees 'em, Mom."
"Lyssie!" Her mother whipped her head about to stare with wide eyes while dad chortled in the background. "What kind of language is that for the dinner table?"
"Accurate language?" Was returned with a smirk, and the giggles were spreading among both Kenny and Butters as Dad let out a full laugh.
"Ah!" Mom exclaimed, at a loss for words for a few seconds. "I won't argue that Vernice isn't a little... rough around the edges; she's old and set in her ways, but that's no way to speak of your elders..."
"But she can call dad a raging homo who wears you as a hat? In your house?" Dee tested. "Bitch City, population: one."
Well, three if we count Kyle's mom and Cartman, but I'm keeping this limited to a family group.
"... lemme put it this way." Mom posited. "If one more person calls my mother a bitch, we won't have a party, and we'll have to deal with her undivided attention as a family."
Sudden silence struck the room, and Dad was the first to break it.
"... fair deal." He agreed.
"And now for the news program that starts your day off right, it's GOOD MORNING SOUTH PARK!"
"Good morning South Park. Today our top story is the new meme that landed on Instagram last night that has since overtaken it, Twitter, Facebook, and our quiet little burg; building snow penises instead of snowmen. Here with more is a midget in a bikini."
"Thanks Tom! I'm here on location with what we believe to be the original snow dick from the Instagram photos that kicked off this new craze, identified by the particular detail of the veins and shape of the balls and head. There was a fight around the dick this morning, as the young boy who lives at this address came down to smash the shaft, but was stopped by other local children. They have since built a shrine for the white dong, and are fiercely protecting it from all who would try to harm it with almost cult-like fervor. Meanwhile, both young and old have taken to building other snow peen all over town, smaller but no less proud than the original, and posting it to Instagram and Twitter with the hashtag 'blueballs.' At the same time, a small counter protest to the display of graphic genitalia has formed, mostly made up of young girls and mothers, whom you can also observe behind me; picketing this new craze as obscene and in poor taste. I spoke to a few of these protesters earlier, and here's what the people on the street had to say..."
Dee, honestly, had just turned on the TV for some background noise while going about her morning. Had she seen a whole bunch of people posting snow dicks? Sure. Everything she posted to the web caught fire, but memes didn't usually make the news. She hadn't even been listening to the broadcast, more focused on munching her egg-in-toast, until it got to the words cult-like fervor... and when she looked at the screen, sure enough, the beloved midget in a bikini of local South Park TV was standing in front of Cartman's house, where a crowd of kids was protecting the snow dick she and Butters had helped Kenny build the day before.
Her phone, newly replaced and still in need of a screen protector before something inevitably happened to it, was in her hand in a second to message Kenny.
[Sent; 7:03] News
[Sent; 7:03] Your dick is on TV
Dee was intensely unsurprised when the first person on the street that got to give their two cents was Sheila Broflovski, whom the text crawl at the bottom of the screen addressed as a Local Activist Mom – code for Y'all know who this bitch is. For bonus points, it appeared the woman had not even finished her morning routine before coming out of her house to join this protest, dressed in a fuzzy bathrobe and holding a hastily scrawled upon sign that read 'Citizens Against Obscenity' … which technically spelled CAO, but when read to herself Dee pronounced as cow.
"This display is too detailed to be considered just kids expressing themselves, and has made people all over town uncomfortable just to walk down the street!" Sheila crowed in her standard I'm taking a stand against something because of my moral outrage voice. "There's a line between pornography and art, and this most certainly crosses it- the city should act to tare this thing down immediately and ban the practice of making them!"
"And what would you say to the people who say it's funny?" Midget quested.
"Just because it makes some people laugh doesn't make something funny to everyone- to others it's horribly offensive, and we demand to be listened to!"
[Received; 7:04] wat
[Received, 7:05] oh that dick
[Received, 7:05] OH GOD FUCK KYLE'S MOM STAHP
A trio of messages signaled to Dee that Kenny was watching from his side now, and she ended up plopping her ass on the couch while her breakfast sat half-eaten on the little plate she'd carried out of the kitchen when she started listening.
The next person to have a mic shoved in their face was...
Oh Jesus, fuck me.
The bottom crawl called her Feminist Preteen, but it wasn't like anyone didn't know her.
Wendy.
"Why are you protesting the snow penis, little miss? Does it make you uncomfortable?"
"No." Wendy's voice was stern, but remained in her I'm being diplomatic because if I scream at people I'll be labeled as hysterical tone. "Anatomically correct dicks aren't the problem, the problem is that we even think there's a debate about this- most people would agree that detailed depictions of genitals are not something for public display, but stuff like this gets a pass all the time. People drawing dicks on notebooks, desks, walls; in any and every medium, in public spaces. If there can be a dick on it, someone will put one on it, and it's never punished or spoken out against. If someone raises a fuss, it's shrugged off as boys being boys, and considered a funny joke rather than an obscene and childish display... whereas, if I were to sculpt a vulva of snow, it's unlikely anyone would even know what they're looking at, and if they did, would find it disgusting before they found it funny- I'm here to protest hypocrisy, and to remind the person who made that post on Instagram that even jokes can be a harmful form of speech."
Dee was... somewhat surprised that the reporter let Wendy get through that whole thing. Then again, she wouldn't be surprised if Wendy seized the mic to finish her message rather than be edited down or ignored half-way through... and was betting Midget knew that.
She also felt it when Wendy looked directly at the camera for that last sentence.
Really, Wendy? Couldn't text me first, had to go on the fucking news to throw shade at me for doing a selfie with a snow dick?
[Received; 7:09] we in trouble and she cant even mssge us?
Kenny sounded just as impressed.
[Sent; 7:10] Sounds more like me than you guys. Me posting it is what made it catch fire.
[Sent; 7:10] Because another 'your powers have consequences' lecture is what I fucking need rn
Dee was about to suggest they text Wendy and talk about this as the broadcast passed on to other reactions, but was distracted by a fairly violent knocking on her door.
It was something she hesitated to answer, tempted to simply pretend neither she nor anyone else was at home. Mom left for work at crazy-o-clock, and Dad had jammed out fairly early as well. This would usually be the time at which she got her butt to the bus stop for school, and while she was off until after winter break, other kids still had a couple days left before the break started. Not making a peep and simply pretending no one was home seemed the best response to anyone who might be knocking.
"GodDAMNIT Douchebag, open up you dicklicking bitch, I know you're in there!"
She didn't know if she'd gotten a response from Kenny, but she thought it right to send him a text before tucking her phone into the kangaroo pocket of her hoodie and opening the door.
[Sent; 7:11] Cartman's here, brb
She'd not seen Cartman since the initial visit at the hospital, when she first woke up. She there was a slight flash to her temper that it took an angry mob for any of her group to say 'hi'... but she hadn't exactly fired off a mass text to the gang the second she got her phone back, either.
Opening the door, she found Cartman as his usual self. Hat, coat, backpack; ready for school with his face turned red by all the shouting as well as the Colorado cold.
Before she could say a word, he forced himself past the threshold and all but ripped the door from her hand, slamming it shut. Behind him, on her front steps, appeared to be a pursuit of other kids who had been running after him. All at once, he reached for the latch and dead-bolted the door, then rushing to the front-facing window in her living room and snatching at the curtains to yank them closed and block all possible views into the house from the outside. Before he finished, there was the slamming of other hands on the door, other people- not knocking, but pounding on the wood slab that blocked entry to her house.
From the background, the TV droned on...
"... appears the fat boy who tried to destroy the snow penis earlier attempted to sneak in behind the shrine with a blow-torch, only to be caught. He's since fled to another house up the street, with the children protecting the shrine in pursuit- we can't see inside the house, but we'll report if there's any movement. Back to you, Tom!"
"Shitsnacking asshole!" Cartman hurled at her, his back to the wall between the door and the window, chest heaving after securing the living room. "What the fuck, man?!"
There's... a lot of answers to that question.
Her mouth half-opened to explain herself, but Cartman barked out a noise that was not a word while holding out his hand in a stop motion.
"Up-bup-bup-bup! No, no, don't you even dare until you show me that fucking collar is on- go on, show me!"
… really? You bust into my house for protection and you're gonna be like that? Well then...
Her hoodie obscured the collar; she would need to tug it down for him to see it... but instead she crossed to the door and put her hand on the latch for the deadbolt- an action that made Eric all but squeal and stumble over himself to try and dissuade her by swatting at her before he even arrived within swinging range.
"Are you crazy, bitch? That mob out there wants to kill me, you'd be guilty of a murder if you let them in!"
You say that like I give a single chocolate-covered fuck.
She pitched herself on one heel as he rushed over, body weight getting thrown to the side as her elbow came out to nail him in the gut and force him back. He didn't seem to be expecting the hit; the connection was solid and he let out a sharp oof as air was forced out of his lungs from below. She'd swung around, her other foot coming down to firmly plant herself in front of the door whilst replacing her other hand on the oblong knob that would undo the bolt- her message was clear.
Give me one fucking reason not to open this door and toss you to the wolves right now.
"Whoa, whoa... slow down... c'mon, Douchebag, you... you don't wanna do that- I know you don't." Eric's voice changed as he realized the balance of power had shifted, one hand holding where she'd nailed him as he tried to get his breath back.
The hell I don't. You're the one who said girls are good for nothing but lying and stabbing you in the back.
"I know I haven't visited since you got out of the hospital... b-but I wanted to give you your space; you understand, right? You just got back, whole bunch of people probably think a whole bunch of new stuff about you, I didn't wanna crowd you right away- I wasn't avoiding you, I was just tryin' to be a good friend. You get that, right...? Right?"
... not even what I'm mad about, but the fact that you're denying it, unsolicited, makes me suspect otherwise. Dick move, dude.
She twisted the deadbolt, the motion making a heavy click that barely overcame the fervor of hands beating on the door. She suspected it was only a matter of time before someone threw a rock through the window or something similar; the kids of South Park could throw riots just as violent as the adults. With the heavy metal bolt pulled back, the upper portion of the door began to shake much more violently, and it was only the little twist lock inside the knob that was keeping it shut.
"OKAY, OKAY! I was totally avoiding you, but it wasn't to be an asshole, I just don't know what the fuck to do with you now!"
And the truth shall protect thine vast ass. For now.
She pointed with her other hand, but not to signal him upstairs. That's the first place an angry mob would look if they insisted on searching the place. Instead, she pointed towards the door to the basement. Eric followed the line, and made a face.
"The closet? Lame, Assmaster."
It's not a closet, and you'll go if you know what's good for you.
She pointed again, more insistent this time, and shifted her other hand to the knob of the door and the twist-lock. He seemed to get it.
"Alright, I'm goin'!"
She watched as he scurried across the living room, arriving at the door to the basement and throwing it open to slip past it... and loudly swearing as he discovered it was, in fact, not a closet.
It appeared he made this discovery with his feet, ass, and spine, as several thuds indicated he'd attempted to walk on thin air rather than use the stairs.
Either way, Eric was out of sight, which meant she could open the door before people broke it down.
The barrier sweeping back appeared to surprise those at the head of the mob. On her doorstep, leading the charge, was Clyde, Craig, and Token... with at least a dozen of her male peers behind them. None of them had lost their minds, no tell-tale widening of the pupils or dead-eyed thousand yard stares to be seen. Everyone present was still, on a technical level, in control of themselves and their actions.
Good to know.
Eyebrows raised, lips flat, eyes set to a dead stare; Dee was comprised to wear a very done look that arrested her 'guests' on the spot. Clyde's hand was still raised up like he was going to continue beating on a door that wasn't there anymore, and Tweek stepped up from behind Craig as if he feared some kind of retaliation and wanted to be on hand to protect his man.
Token was the first to become articulate in the beat of silence that spread to another group of boys, crowded around the outside of the curtained window.
"Uh... hi Dee?"
Guys, this is my house, why the fuck are you all so surprised to see me?
"Eric ran in here!" Clyde proclaimed, the tallest of the three and yet appearing the least confident. "He attacked the snow dick!"
I'm aware of that. I opened the door for his ass. Y'all got anything besides that on the brain?
She crossed her arms, planting herself in the doorway. Did she have bad odds against a crowd? Sure, but the doorway gave her a defensible point. If they decided to force the issue, she could grab the frame and use it as a stable point from which to kick people away. Or gas them to hell- her recovering asshole barred farting hard enough to rip the fabric of space-time, but she could still lay down enough hell to make people sick.
"Aren't you mad at him, too, for trying to destroy your boyfriend's work?"
Craig's question got her gaze to snap directly to him, eyes going wide.
The fuck did you say?
"Y-you and Butters!" Tweek shouted from behind Craig, although he appeared ready to overtake him at any second. Kid was ride-or-die as hell. "Everybody knows that you guys have been- ngh- been hanging out since Homecoming- d-don't play dumb!"
… y'all think Butters built the snow dick?
"C'mon, you guys, she's totally with Kenny." Clyde fired back. "Even came to his little sister's birthday party- who does that unless they're getting a little somethin' somethin' on the side?"
You went to Karen's birthday, too. Are you and all the guys who showed up gay for Kenny? Goddamnit, y'all find out I probably have a vulva, and suddenly everything is about who I'm fucking.
Arms that she'd crossed over her chest shifted, hands coming together to loudly and pointedly crack her knuckles. Token and Clyde visibly shifted back, and while Craig didn't move he did get tense. They all knew how hard she could hit from personal experience.
"Are you serious? You're protecting Eric?" Token demanded. "After how shitty he's been to you? You hang out with that fat bigot, you know how he is about girls, and you're still gonna defend him?"
Yep. Cause I'm an asshole, he's an asshole, and all our friends are assholes. That's pretty much the defining trait of our clique. Various flavors of asshole.
"C'mon, Dee- a couple of your guy friends built that thing, and you're gonna let the dude who tried to smash it just get away with it?" Clyde tried to coax. "You were into it enough to post pictures, you gotta feel at least a little pride and wanna protect it, right?"
"I helped build it, you asshats!"
It was a new kind of rage. It wasn't like her participation in something had never been glossed over before; she'd been both blamed for things that weren't her fault and absolved of things that were- but this? This was a specific kind of credit shifting that made her see enough red that she could overcome that internal barrier that usually helped her keep quiet even when she wanted to set someone straight by way of screaming at them. Not just getting discredited, but getting specifically left out of recognition because these morons thought they knew something about her behavior based on her gender.
The shock ran through the assembled group. Everyone, even Craig and Tweek, took a full step backwards; like her shouting had produced a concussive wave that forced them back. Even the mob around the window broke up and fell in with the other group.
"Whaddya mean?" Clyde asked with wide eyes. "... you're a girl, girls don't-"
"I'VE BEEN A GIRL THIS ENTIRE TIME YOU ANAL-DRILLING SCAT BARONS!" She roared, stepping forward from the doorway to take up the ground they gave up, the front stoop becoming her platform.
Literally nothing has changed! But 'ewwww, Dee has cooties now!' I can't believe these guys!
She was shaking, fists clenched. If any of them stepped up to the plate, she was going to crack skulls.
"... so are you and Eric fucking, then?" Clyde asked. "... cause you should break up with him if he's gonna smash your stuff like that-"
Dee flew off of her doorstep with a guttural roar. Without boots, in her fucking socks, ready to take it easy for the day, she took the flying leap off of her cold concrete steps and collided with Clyde- knees slamming into his chest as a hand got a solid connection on his shoulder. The other hand was upraised, clenched into a fist, and brought down against his face before he fully toppled into the snow behind him.
She couldn't hear anything over the blood rushing in her ears. She felt things in terms of impact- the sharp edge of her knuckles smashing into Clyde's face, clenching her knees around his trunk as he landed against the frozen ground and tried to squirm away, and the frenzy of hands trying to pull her off of him as she hit him again, and again, and-
She held up- the fourth hit arrested with her fist upraised as she glowered down. Clyde had tears in his eyes, and his lip was bleeding. He'd tried to shove her off, but he hadn't hit her back. His fists weren't even clenched with the attempt of hitting her back.
Fuck you, I know you can throw a punch. Don't tell me you won't fucking fight me now.
From the side, someone tackled her into the snow.
The hit came as a surprise, and knocked her out of the red haze that had launched her from her doorstep. All at once, she realized she was very cold... and her socks were wet.
"Hey, dumbasses- you're all about to miss the bus!"
A female voice was directly above her. One she recognized in an instant.
Wendy.
There was a general cry of distress as everyone realized what time it was.
::The Author's Corner::
This story is dragging me through a number of my own old middle school feels; specifically being a scrappy girl who was always looking for an excuse to fight and preferred to hang out with dudes despite the very strict gendered split between cliques. The first thing that always got leveled against me at that age when a dude got adsorbed into my group the accusation that I was dating him. Even after my group had contained guys for years, it was the first insinuation by the other groups, and there were regular rumors that I was doing all of them.
But hey, that's the joy of fiction- I get to revisit these feels and tell them to suck a metaphorical cock.
ONWARDS!
-Buttlord