The next day, in South Park Elementary, Stan had just entered the school. He was transiting the hall, when he noticed the other three boys together, waiting for him. He walked up to them to greet them, but something was wrong. Cartman had a guilty expression, while Kyle stared angrily at him.

"Hey, guys. What's the problem?" Stan asked.

"Go on, fatass! Tell him what you did!" Kyle said to Cartman, while pushing him on the shoulder.

"Hey, take it easy!" Cartman then turned to Stan. "Listen, I… took some pictures of Shelly to sell to that Eighth Grader guy."

"YOU WHAT?!" Stan's face almost went pale.

"But then his other guys came and took the pictures from me."

"Cartman, you dumbass!" Stan's face was now turning red. "What the fuck were you thinking?"

"I just wanted to make some money, alright?" Cartman answered, defensively. "I was gonna split it with you!"

Stan had to use all of his willpower to restrain himself from assaulting Cartman. After breathing for a second, he turned to him, still enraged.

"Do you know what'll happen now? Shelly will kill you for trying to sell pictures of her, and then she'll kill all of us just out of convenience!"

"Oh, God!" Cartman replied.

"What are we gonna do now?" Kyle asked, a bit fearful.

Stan sighed, with his palm on his face. "Okay, okay. Just let me think this through. I'll come up with a plan."

"To get the money?" Cartman asked, innocently.

"NO, you asshole! To get the pictures!"

"Oh."

During the recess, the boys, sans Kyle, spied on the Eighth Graders in their classroom through the window. They were gathered around the desk, admiring the pictures of Shelly placed all over it. They were in greater number and bigger than the boys, so fighting them wasn't an option.

While they kept looking at the pictures, Kyle emerged at the door, which was open.

"Hey guys, look! It's Shelly Marsh!" He announced, while pointing to the nothingness in the hall.

Upon hearing those words, the Eighth Graders swarmed out of the room like a horde of zombies. Taking advantage of the space now being empty, Stan had Kenny boost him through the window and into the room. He collected the pictures from the desk and quickly left, again through the window.

With the four boys again reunited, Stan tore the pictures into tiny bits and threw them in the trash bin.

"Now listen. None of this ever happened. Do you hear me?" He instructed.

"Okay." Kyle agreed.

"Okay." Then Cartman.

"(Okay.)" And now Kenny.

After school, Stan was home, in the living room. He was playing videogame, trying to forget the whole ordeal about the pictures. Suddenly, the front door slammed open, and Shelly came from it, steaming with fury.

"TUUUUUUURD!" She yelled.

"Oh, fuck!" Startled, Stan dropped the joystick and ran to the kitchen, with Shelly in hot pursuit. In the kitchen, he put the table between her and himself.

"Shelly, what's wrong?!" He asked, agitated.

"What's that story about selling pictures of me to the Eighth Graders?!" She inquired, still yelling, while she circled around the table trying to reach Stan.

Stan thought to himself. Shit, how did she find out? He then tried to play innocent. "What are you talking about?"

"I found those perverts on the street! They told me the whole thing!"

Tired of the cat-and-mouse game, Shelly shoved the table aside and with Stan in her reach, lifted him by the collar.

"Look, it wasn't me! It was Cartman! He took the pictures!" Stan pleaded, sweating with fear.

"But you're with him on that! You and the other turds!" She growled.

"No! When I found out, I put an end to that! I destroyed the pictures!"

Shelly's rage subsided a little. After pondering for a moment, she pulled Stan close to herself.

"I swear to God, turd, if you're lying to me-"

"I'm not! I swear!"

Having sufficiently calmed down, she let Stan go. He took a moment to recover from the experience, then spoke up.

"Look, it's not my fault. It's those Eighth Graders! They started this whole thing!"

"The Eighth Graders?" Shelly retorted, with a tone of anger and disbelief. "Fine. Give me your phone."

"For what?"

"Just do it."

Stan reluctantly obliged, and handed over his phone. Shelly walked up to a painting hung on the wall, and punched hard through it, making a hole.

"Jesus!" Stan reacted.

She then used Stan's phone to take a picture of the hole, then returned it to him.

"They want a picture? You give them that one. Tell them I'm gonna do that with their heads if they don't stop with that bullshit."

With her warning given, Shelly left the kitchen. Stan looked around at the disarray that resulted from their dispute.

Better clean this mess before Mom gets here, he decided.