Saturday, Marsh Residence. Shelly had caught a cold and was bedridden. Sharon had left for work, leaving Stan to take care of the house and his sister.

He was in the living room, playing videogame, when he noticed his phone ringing. He looked at the screen, and noticed that it was Shelly calling. He answered it.

"Come to my room. Now." She requested.

Stan paused his game and went upstairs, to Shelly's room. He entered it and walked up to his sister, laid on the bed and feeling ill.

"I'm here. What is it?"

"Urgh. I need to go to the bathroom, but I'm too weak to do it on my own." She explained, in a low and sick tone.

"So you want me to take you there?"

"Yeah."

Attending to Shelly's need, Stan put her arm around his neck, and cautiously lifted her off the bed, almost stumbling with her weight.

"Damn, you're heavy!" He complained.

"Shut up! It's you who's a weakling!" She retorted.

Putting some effort, Stan managed to carry his sister all the way to the bathroom. He placed her on the toilet and left to wait. After a minute, he heard the flush of the toilet.

"Okay, I'm done." She called.

Stan then went inside to pick Shelly and carried her back to her bedroom. He put her on the bed and covered her with her blanket.

"That's all?" He asked.

"Yeah. Thanks."

"Okay. Call if you need me."

Stan left Shelly's room and went back to his game.

An hour later, Stan was still playing, when he heard his phone ring. It was Shelly again. This time he didn't answer. He again paused his game and rushed upstairs to her room. Upon entering, he walked up to her.

"You need to go to the bathroom again?" He questioned.

"No, it's… something else."

"What?"

Shelly didn't answer immediately. Instead she turned her face away, hiding a very embarrassed expression.

"What is it, Shelly?"

"It's… my… medicine." She answered, awkwardly.

"Okay. Where is it?"

She pointed to a pill on the nightstand beside her bed, still looking away. Stan turned his face to it and realized, to his horror, that the medicine was a suppository.

"You… kidding, right?" He asked nervously. Shelly turned her face to him, with red all over it.

"LOOK AT ME AND TELL ME IF I'M FUCKING KIDDING!" She yelled, now angry as well.

"No, it's just-" He backed off, now even more nervous. "I think… you should have Mom do this for you when she returns."

"I already called her. She won't be back for another hour, and I can't wait."

"No, no…" Stan couldn't believe his current predicament. "Sorry, Shelly, I just… can't…"

At this point, Shelly decided she had had enough of Stan's spinelessness.

"STAN! You better help me, or I'll get off this bed, and smack you with the little strength I have left!"

"Okay, okay!" He agreed, now at his limit.

Seeing no other option, Stan uneasily unpacked the pill, at the same time that Shelly turned around on her bed and put her waist up. She buried her face in the pillow to hide her embarrassment. He then pulled her pants down and faced her behind, completely exposed.

"Oh, God!" He muttered.

Gathering all of his willpower, Stan pushed the pill in, while putting on a repulsed face. After the thing was over, he pulled his sister's pants back up. Shelly then turned around and laid again on her back, her face still red.

"Not a word about this to anyone, do you hear me?" She demanded.

"I'm taking this to grave."

"You better. Now get out of here before I realize what I've just done."

Stan exited to room and left Shelly to recover. He needed to recover too.