Few creator notes that should (maybe)make reading less difficult lol. I wrote PC principle as a bad parody of Macho Man Randy Savage- so if you read him like a pro wrestler it's better. Same as Kim who I'm giving a really racist Chinese accent. Because it's still the South Park world I'm trying to use as much dark(dumb) humor as possible while still being serious

Weird to say this when it took so long for the Update but if you like this story, Or love Media and Film in General Find my YouTube channel-Studio Jordi (I talk Movies, video games, and of course T.V.) Insta martian_mind soft spot for animation and art.

Craig Tucker; God of Highschool Ch2

Fuck Your Prologue It's my Story Now

From; Tweek Tweak: To; Craig

Hey Craig...I'm sorry but I won't be able to see you anymore.

I'm Moving—But, I'll become strong you do too. I'll Keep my Promise

Message sent 2,190days ago +12 hrs.

It's insane, I know it's insane and yet I check this message every damn day hoping to see something different. On particularly shitty days I check it maybe 3 or 4 times. It doesn't help. Just this constant reminder that somethings missing in my world. Something that used to ground me now as evasive as my personality.

"We're going to be late!" A not quite shrill voice cries out from behind my door. Tricia's really annoying in the morning "Hey asshole! I'm leaving, and if you're late again the schools gonna call dad, Bye!" ironically her slamming the door and speeding off in my car is what finally gets me to move groggy as is.

Throwing on yesterday's outfit (it's not too stale so no one should really notice, except that douche Token) after pulling on also yesterday's hoodie. It's a quick tooth brushing through the bathroom and out the door. Making note my car is indeed not where I parked it I quietly damn my sister while checking my phone. Figures she'd be bitching so much when she's running late too. Only 10minutes before the late bell "Well if I ran like hell there now, I'd make it in enough time to be about 15minutes late" Thinking that my eye's scan to my garage and I get an idea that's equally appealing but it might be faster. Tightening my head phones in under my 4th favorite chulo hat. My chariot awaits me

As I'm dashing through the neighborhood, rainbow tassels fluttering rhythmically in the breeze I create peddling like a mad man down the street. I'm catching a lot of weird glances from the people that make me out before I zoom by. It's fun to watch the twist of some of their faces when they're cheeky grins are replaced with shock and irritation after my drive by flip-off. They can all fuck-off. Though the Irony of my navy-blue wardrobe draped across my sister's unicorn sticker adorned highlighter pink bike is not entirely lost on me. But given the fact I'm currently under slept tiring my legs out in almost freezing weather, and~ I'm running late, I can't really be bothered to smirk.

As I'm rounding the corner off a back street, I've found some time ago (clearly, I do this to often), the school is finally in view and only 5 minutes till the bell, Damnit I actually didn't want to be late today but It's not exactly my fault, I was out late running deliveries for sensei made worse because I "conveniently" didn't have my car then either... Fucking Tricia.

South-Park High sits in a fairly odd location given the Huge school sits at the base of a steep hill and right off from a town park on the edge of North Park Colorado. The Actual North Park High being only a few blocks away. And how did our terribly underfunded town get a massive donation to move/refurbish the school from its original state and yet keep its name sake? Well, being as all that went down summer of my second year of middle school, can't say it was ever a mystery to me but it is to the town. Every assembly there's still a greeting/thanks we give to our "mysterious benefactor". Can't say anyone takes that to seriously, though of course there are some that aren't too happy about it either. Not saying that South Park is filled with White trash, But It is, Exclusively, and the North Parkers being just a few pegs of middle-class higher OfCourse hated that our "Decerped" town now took up space in theirs too. Surely, we were just poor undignified violent apes, and admittedly most of us were. Actually, there were mirrored arguments from "South Park loyalists" about much the same. My dad being among them saying how "Those Pompous dickheads could rub off on us" When he found out I'd still be going to school for free he either changed his mind or quickly stopped caring.

Shifting my thoughts back to the dwindling clock, from my peripheral I can see the school lightly swallowed by the trees of the surrounding park. Racing down the hill I catch a glimpse of the park's entry way, a small glance at the railing and I get a brilliantly stupid half-thought. I make another rushed/executive decision and Jump the traffic railing and descend into the foliage. The ride "as one could expect" is hazardous, wildly thrashing and dodging through the jagged terrain making my way towards both the railing of some nearby steps and toward the school itself at a hellish pace. Dust storming up behind me as I wade my way down the steep hill. Bracing myself against the concrete border of the stair lining mere centimeters from slamming into them. The music blaring from my headphones distorts and diminishes fading along with sounds of the morning traffic nearby and the stillness of the forest, all noise around me becomes white and minute and almost stills, and in a second I snap. Simultaneously slamming the front tire upwards and pushing off the cement thus launching the dainty bicycle over the stretch of the parks clearing. For a moment I am paused in the air, wind whistling between my head phones and under my well fitted hat, The view; breath-taking the tranquil quite of the morning blue engulfed in the presence of school sunlight dancing off the windows. Surely breath-taking. The fall, even more so. I plunge toward the earth and gradually too, my push having sent me further off the hill than anticipated. With nary a second to plan my decent, I shift the bike and balance as best I can before the SLAM! I crash into the railing shaking violently stabilizing this now impromptu grind down the hill. Sparks are literally flying from the friction I'm creating from this stunt; chips of the cheap pink paint being ripped from the bike start to stain me from the sheer speed I'm going. Finally reaching the end of the railing I bounce off rugged metal greeted by smooth ground, still shooting forward like a bullet firing toward the school. It's almost fortunate that the morning has traffic thinned out as I've now completely lost control of the bike. .

Barreling across the road, swaying haphazardly between the Text-n-drivers My greatest efforts however can't keep me from toppling over skipping painfully across the school's wide entry ground. I slide to a rough stop mere inches away from a familiar pair of studiously maintained dockers khaki pants draped atop them. I don't even have to look up to know who it is, and equally understand that this about to suck.

"Late again Tucker~!" fucking PC Principal, bellowing in my ear with all the grace of a bullhorn. I wonder what all the people that think I'm some stoic invulnerable badass would say if they could see me now. Sprawled across the ground, gravel falling from my face that's currently twisted into the most annoyed grimace I can muster. Literally stunned by my own irritation, all I can do is look up at him, as this moron continues to scream at me first thing in the morning "You're a renegade Tucker I like that, I'm a renegade to Y'know Uh-huh, But a rene-Gade~ that stands for the achievements and advancements of students in the school system or "AASSS" for short Yeahhhh~"

Finally picking myself off the ground I limp over and do the same with the discarded bike unable to stop myself from the smart retort I fire back "Don't really think renegade's stand for "systems" but ok PC" I don't even turn back around, just put the bike on the rack and head straight for detention. As it would happen, I didn't grab her bike lock so if Trish gets her bike stolen it's on her.

PC just chuckles and crosses his arms staring absently around the courtyard. Before I head in, he looks my way and speaks again "And make sure you go straight to the Tardy room too Son, I'll get your home room work for the day so Come to my office after school Yeahh~"

As much as I would love not to do that, there's no stopping the man when he's in 'no student left behind' mode. I don't know what speaks worse about our little community, the fact that this man is an educator or the tragedy that he's a good one. One thing I know for sure though is that-

I Craig Tucker have a profound hate of most things. There are approximately 7.5billion recorded human beings on the planet Earth, And judging from the ones I've met I don't care for them much at all. Now heartless wouldn't quite cut either, I know love. My mother for one light of my world, my friends though I doubt I've ever shown it, Trish is a little shit but I like her okay even my dad has his moments of being not a complete piece of shit that I've come to appreciate? Well in any case affection is definitely an emotion I understand just not one I'm accustomed to using. Now irritation, spite, morally ambiguous neutrality these are feelings that I get. The sunshine on a nice summer day can infuriate me just by getting in my eyes once. Or the excitement of an amusement park can be ruined by the snotty screaming face of a kid I don't even know. Petty? OfCourse, but I never said I was above that either. And right now, I'm coming face-to-face with another thing I hate. Noise. When I enter the so named "Late room" it's already crowded with what I'm sure PC would call "rampant delinquency" but what I refer to as as a noise trap. Really the room is an old cafeteria area located in the back of the building,

That I'm sure the school had no idea what to do with anymore, the room had flipflopped from being a common area to a therapy room to a secondary auditorium. The reason why it stayed none of these for very long might be anyone's guess but mine was simply, It's a conveniently inconvenient space. Doubling as entrance/exit to the parking lot, It would make sense that at 7:15 all doors would lock leaving this room as the sole entrance to the late running students. The room was huge, stretching a similar length to that of the gym but filled with brown circular tables. The tables could spaciously fit 4 people, but it was more common. to see them used to uncomfortably sit 8 to 9 students at a time. Or find two or more of them pushed together creating a large cabal of students either mingling, still trying to sleep or desperately finishing homework. Cliques would meld together joined by their mutual tardiness, girls sitting on their boyfriends/ or friend's lap guys sitting on tables or standing around. Closer to the back of the room there's the space that used to be part of the old auditorium. Now moved to the very front of the school the 2 rooms were very far apart but still connected via a long corridor that stretched the side of the building. Beig farthest from the tables it's usually the quietest in the back, because of the weird angle it sits at too Faculty rarely check this part also as it's not visible from the front of the room.

After signing in I make my way to the back of the late room finding a table to myself (lucky) I toss my bag on top and fold my arms creating a pillow for my head. I'm too awake to expect to drift off, that fall on the bike pretty much guaranteed my consciousness. My knee was still sorta throbbing from the pain. But resting my eyes like this relaxed me so fuck it'. I wasn't sure how long I'd been there when I finally opened my eyes again. 20-30 mins maybe before I can even check the time, I'm already opening Facebook again. Hating myself for looking at the same damn message again like I'm trying to count the hours of it having been sent.

Message received 2,190 days ago +14hrs.

Groaning I put my phone down rubbing my eyes and stretching my back abit to less stiffen myself. As soon as I uncover my eyes, they're immediately covered again. I actually jump a bit shamefully I'm almost startled by the event but I smell who it is already and lower my guard instinctively, but still allowing my head to fly back. My headbutt is sidestepped but twisting the opposite way I sling my fist backwards. Cracking the perp in the face, and freeing my eyes in one motion.

"Oww! Fucker!" Clyde stumbles back a bit chuckling through the pain. The little show got a few eyes on us, but luckily school security didn't seem to notice anything. And everyone soon return to their respective business as Clyde settles down across from me "I almost got ya too" He says checking his nose.

"Ha, Maybe If you didn't smell like week old chinese food your lame ass stealth attack would have worked" I shrug "But I think I'd kick your ass blind, deaf, and nostril- less"

Making a face Clyde checks his pits sniffing them quizzically. "Damn, Do I really? I thought I was good. But I've been working so much that I don't even smell It anymore. Is it bad?"

"Nah, You're Ok" I shake my head reassuring him "Surprised Toke let you sleep in" Hell I'm he let 'me' sleep in

"Oh Yeah. Tokes still outta town" Taking out his phone "~I think he's getting back today actually, but I haven't heard from dude. Bet ya miss him huh? That's why I jumped ya earlier, felt like you could use a pick me up" He finishes flashing me a toothy smile

I can't help but laugh at how lame he is "Is that so?" I manage to laugh out "And what makes you think I'm so miserable?"

Flashing a slier smile Clyde gives me this kindergartner 'I got you' look "Welll for starters~" Pointing at my still unlocked phone "You only cyber stalk Tweek when you're in a bad mood" He says mockingly beginning to laugh. My face deflates immediately as I remember Clyde can be a little shit sometimes too. "Don't worry dude. Whenever you need a guy in your corner, the Clydester is here" suspicious phrasing aside Clyde giddily stretches his arms apparently trying to hug me from across the table. He pauses just in time, my fist just barely rubbing the hairs of his nose. "~Ok soo maybe not now, But the love is here whenever ya need It man" He continues to smile at me unfazed.

We continue to sit and talk about nothing of real importance until the bell finally rings freeing the lot of us. As were getting up to leave Clyde's about to walk off but turns and asks me If I'm working today. Nodding in response he tells me to wait for him after school then runs off.

I laugh to myself looking on as Clyde wades through the school traffic before turning and doing the same. Thinking about it, Clyde has probably changed the least over the years. Despite deciding to quit football years ago he still wore his varsity jackets religiously, guess I can't judge that one *playing with the strings on my chullo hat*. He was more or less the same absent-minded dork he was a kid. Still as goofy as ever as well. And technically still competing for being the third fattest student in our grade. Now Clyde had never been skinny but can't really be considered all that fat either. He's just...thicker? We workout together often so I've seen first-hand while his pudge doesn't really seem to have muscle behind it, he is deceptively strong. He and Bebe had broken up some time ago, though you wouldn't know by how much the two still hung out together. It's not even rare to catch them still flirting or checking each other out either. Yet why the split is still mystery. And mystery it remained, both Bebe and Clyde were almost too likable for anyone to rationally want to sift through their business, and if you asked either of them outright the answers were suspiciously vague 'We just decided too' or 'It was for the best'. OfCourse no one bought their story but no one really seemed to care what the truth was either.

All in all, there were 5 mysteries of the Junior class at South Park High that ran through out the school. Number one obviously, who built the school? Guess 2 would be BebeVClyde: Who ended things with who and why? 3 is more so a joke, given random absence's and not being all that bright in the first place, Would Kenny actually graduate? The fourth mystery is widely disputed, for it being really no one's business at all. And that mystery was: Is Butters Stoch gay? Me, my belief (other than the fact that it doesn't fucking matter) was that sexuality was a spectrum and that he could be attracted to any number of people without being entirely gay or straight. Besides it's not like anyone was trying to gaydar the rest of the student body or faculty for that matter so I figured they'd just guess like I do with everyone else.

Huh, Speak of the Butters and it appears. Me and the short blonde make quick eye contact and he gives me a smiling nod continuing to walk with Wendy and crew in tow. I nod in return, Butters and I aren't really anything like friends but I don't hate him either. He fit a gray area in my world most didn't seem to, we got along well enough if needed. We occasionally found ourselves mingling in the same groups rare as it was. While I'm not the type to stray far from my pack it could be argued If Butters even had one at this point. The group of (semi)popular dick heads ironically known as "The Boys" weren't "publicly" all that close anymore. Honestly they never really seemed to get along all that well anyway, but things apparently really changed during freshman year. You could still catch Kyle and Stan around each other on occasion, but mostly seemed Kyle was always with some group he had become in charge of. Whether the obnoxious red head was with the student council or the gay/straight alliance, jazz club, audio visual, honors society Kyle kept busy ensuring his pre-college resume was biblical, of course that meant he couldn't afford to be seen around notable slackers like Marsh and McCormick. You could argue that his actions were the fault of his mother but who knows. He seemed to do whatever he wanted, off in his own world most times. Even with all his pious acts the scholar was still an ass and was more than happy to rub his intelligence in anyone's face or denounce them with his almost ceaseless moral Highground arguments. Stan was an odd one. I wondered if he even had friends or enablers. It was no secret that the success of Tedgridy Farms was a bane on his soul but Marsh really started to spin out as a result. Stan who was whiney pessimist as a kid had grown into a whiney "depressive" problem drinker. His drunken escapades only paralleled by his sober pity rants. As a result of his self-imposed misery Stan's "Will They, Won't They?" with Wendy ended in a resounding "They Won't...Ever". Her ending things with "I can't stop you from torturing yourself, But you can't force me to watch.". Those words always really stuck with me. So powerful. That and Jimmy printed them in Bold in that week's issue of the school paper. South Park is ruthless. Well, whatever be the reason behind his self-loathing it's obvious the dude was going through it. His misery cut its own jagged path down the social ladder. He got kicked out of the Goths for still having "Love" in his heart or some trash like that. Similarly, redetected by the vampire kids because apparently the sight of blood makes the rampant vomiter "queasy". Now Stan was the resident grifter, like our schools very own homeless mascot. He drifted between social groups usually staying on the outskirts of any clique he was currently around. He was however a mainstay in the school band. The boy can play bass like Flea, his voice isn't that bad either. Though he's much better as back up Marsh has even been stand-in lead a few times. However of course, his ever-fleeting sobriety keeps those moments few and far between. By time I get to my next class most of the students had already filled it out, worst part is the absence of Token. While I love Social Studies and didn't need help study wise Toke's clever cool headedness kept class entertaining when the lessons weren't. He'd even get into debates with Kyle when we discussed ethical issues. The dork in question is already here. Eyes glued to a book resting on his desk. I take my seat in the back preparing to look out the window in protest of my bro not helping through the class. I'm able to play one more song before class starts watching the remainder of students file into the room. Bradley, Annie, Jason, Nelly and Pip finish off the kids ,I know them and some North parkers complete the class.

One of the few saving graces of Highschool is that fortunately I didn't have to stomach having "all" the annoying kids in one class anymore. Instead, it's more of a random cocktail of assholes and acquaintances I have to wash down with friends and hormones. To put it simply school sucks...Shocker

During the lecture portion of class, my eyes scan the room in search of new things to think about when I spot Pip, either doodling or taking notes. The kid busies his pen for a bit then makes a funny face at whatever he'd been scribbling. The silliness of it makes me chuckle abit, which he notices while laughing at himself. He tilts a smile at me returning focus back to his desk and I actually smile back ambitiously before doing the same. Thinking on it, it's a bit weird no one questions Pip like they do Butters. The English lad wasn't offering much more than the other in the masculinity department. And they both hung around largely female circuits (think they're both really cool with Bebe too). Butters could be considered slightly more effeminate if it were to be gauged. Him being a cheerleader kind of spoke to that (He wore the uniform and everything). At a glance I can't tell who's taller, they're both pretty short compared to the rest of us, but Pip looked just a little bigger muscle wise. But it's not like that actually mattered in debate. Before I know it I'm already getting handed homework and in the halls again.

Lucky for me Wednesdays are my more relaxed in the week, the day breeze's by without much hassle and before I think about it I'm preparing for lunch. Exchanging books from my locker to backpack. Despite the noise of the crowded hall, I could hear heavy footsteps bounding towards me. Even still being drowned out by hall another sound was drawing near rapidly "rrrrrraaaAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIGGGGGGGG! AAAHH" . As soon as I slam my locker shut Clyde's already reaching out for me, Head down both hands stretched to their limit. I'm almost caught off-guard this time. I narrowly dodge other kids jumping back, Clyde still descending upon me. Acting fast I reach between both his arms and before Clyde can react his face collides into my middle finger. The pain in my wrist is worth the smugness I feel as I can't help the smirk that forms on my face. The impact was still full force, even bracing my legs we stumble back abit, and I strain holding us up.

"Dumbass, you're never gonna get me." I chuckle out. Standing straight as Clyde still hangs to me laughing. Flashing a toothy grin up at me he finally stands himself.

"Oh Please I totally had you dude, Just didn't wanna ruin your reputation in front of all your fans" He says sarcastically gesturing to the students staring throughout the hall. I flick them off and we laugh some more. "What were you thinking about though, Space cadet?"

"Heh" I laugh nervously to myself, cause I weirdly want to tell him "Pip, I guess?" he stares puzzled by me "Pip~, What about him?"

Leaning back on my lockers I let him indulge my curiosity "Eh, nothing much. Was just wondering if he's gay" Clyde just stares back chuckling through his questioning gaze.

"Hehe. Who cares?" He teases "Ah, Ya'know he and Butters hangout a little, Maybe their boyfriends. Did you know Butt's on the cheering squad?"

"Dude we have assembly's together"

"Oh yeah~"

"H-he-h-he-ey-Hi fellas" A peacefully shaky voice approaches us.

"Jim-bone! Sup pal" Clyde answers back first. Jimmy waves us off, joining us at the lockers.

"What ya guys t-talking about?"

"Nothing" I state, successfully changing the subject. "What's your day like?"

Seeming to perk up at my interest "W-wh-w-Well did guys hear about what happened this morning?"

Looking back, Clyde seems just as out of it as me "Probably not" I say knowing that even if I had known he'd tell us anyway "We both missed Home room and it's a pretty good earbud day for me"

"Word is e-e-Eric is up to s-s-s-somet-thin-th-th stuff" Jimmy says smiling the shifty way he does before publishing something awesome in the paper. And there it was. South Parks most infamous name. The most evasive mystery yet to be solved.

"Uggh. Him Jimmy?" Clyde uncharacteristically drones. He and Jimmy begin to bicker over the statement. Why Jimmy appreciates Eric is obvious, the comedian/writer had not only a somewhat funny dolt to gag with from time-to-time, but a nigh endless well of drama and spite that was like a one-man marketing tool. You'd be hard pressed to find any person, any market Cartman couldn't twist in his favor, even fewer that haven't already.

For the last Mystery of South Park High wasn't a Where, How, or If. It was barely even a who but certainly a why. OfCourse there were in truth a myriad of questions around the subject. 'How could anyone be friends with him?', 'If he had a soul?' , 'Where's his moral Compass?' And it goes on like that. I mean Eric had been a venom as a child but growing had only made the successful tyrant that much more terrible. He would still regularly find some new way to throw a ridiculous tantrum that'd drastically change the school or (more often) the towns lively hood. Plain and simple he was a bastard, made worse because now Eric was stacked. About 4 yrs. Ago Liane Cartman had Heart Attack (cause unknown) And predictable as is Eric freaked. Albeit less about his dying mother and more about not being a penniless orphan. Somehow in the turmoil she actually died for around 2 minutes and poor victim that he was Eric managed to place a life insurance policy on her moments before her death and subsequent re-life. As Liane is Inter-sex and somehow both the Father and Mother of one Eric Cartman. He had managed to convince the courts that his Father had died. Cartman was named sole benefactor and awarded $8 million dollars in insurance money from his "late Father". And as dubious as it was he sure as hell got that money, and wasted no time using it. Just days after settling the insurance claim Eric bought Coonstgram and affiliated it under his new Cartco. Brand. If Eric was a little shit before all this new money and influence is not helping. If there were ever a man that did not need a platform, he was it and now he had one. Cartman's company was everywhere in South Park.

He had enough power and influence to match the Blacks in towny recognition. And no one hated that quite like Token. I mean everyone hates Cartman like everyone, and there's a unique kind of hatred Kyle seems to have for him. But in recent years Eric almost become mortal enemies with Token. With his status as high as it was in the town Kyle was barely servable as a threat to Cartman at this point. So now, in battles of true justice or particular annoyance Token is who stood in defiance and on equal footing with the fat tyrant. In the end the biggest mystery of South Park wasn't "Why's our town so fucked" or "Why do we have a sports team", But it was why. Why Eric-

"-Cartman" The words were so sharp in my ear they had cut me back to reality. A familiar voice rings next to me. I'm made happier by the fact It's a voice I didn't expect to hear today. I turn my head and watch as the last of our group joins as emphatically screams a greeting.

"Token!"