In some red-light district of South Park, Stan walked through the street, holding the paper Kenny gave to him. He looked at the paper while checking the buildings beside him. He finally stopped in front of a red building, which looked like an apartment complex. Standing beside the entrance was this woman, a bit overweight and dressed in a rather flashy way. Stan approached her.

"Are you… the Purple Girl?" He asked, while consulting his paper.

"That me." The woman replied. "What can I do for you?"

Stan started sweating. "Well… I heard that you can do some… services. How much do you charge?"

"Full service is 100, sugar."

Stan checked his pocket. He had saved 100 dollars from his previous allowances. Just then, the woman inspected him closer.

"Wait a minute. Ain't you too young for this kind of treat?" She questioned.

Stan was now shaking with nervousness. "Uh… no, I'm just short."

The woman had her suspicions, but quickly dismissed them.

"Oh, well. Money is money." She pointed to the door beside her. "Come inside, I'll make you feel really good."

The woman made her way to inside the building, with Stan following her. He sighed. He knew that this extreme measure wouldn't solve his problems with the Eighth Graders or his sister, but at least it would provide him some much-needed relief.

But before he entered the building, someone held his hand. Stan turned around to see who was it, and was surprised.

"Shelly?"

"Let's go." She pulled him away from the woman, much to her protest.

"Hey, ho, you think you can just steal my customer?" She yelled, indignant. Shelly then turned to her, angry.

"I'm not a whore and he's not your customer. Now back off, before I punch your teeth into your mouth."

The woman wisely complies. Shelly dragged Stan all the way to a corner, where Sharon's car was parked. Upon arriving, Stan yanked his hand off her grip.

"Let go! What the hell are you doing?!" He questioned.

Shelly faced her brother, with the expression in her face being a mix of anger, fear and disappointment.

"What the hell am I doing? What the hell are YOU doing?!" She lashed.

Stan backed away. "How did you find me?"

"After that lame-ass excuse of yours, I assumed you were up to no good, so I followed you."

She then crossed her arms.

"But let's talk about you. What the fuck are you doing here, looking for a hooker?"

"I can't take this anymore!" Stan exclaimed. "All the stuff with the Eighth Graders, and you… I need to let it out somehow!"

Shelly shook her head in disapproval. "Stan, you're 13. You're still too young to have sex!"

"Ike popped his cherry at four!"

"Well, you're not Ike!" At the same time, she thought to herself. At four? What the hell is wrong with this town?

"Why do you care anyway?" Stan asked, with his frustration growing. "First you were all 'I have my own life, I have my own friends', and now you wanna be a big sister?"

Shelly didn't want to hear it. "Don't start, Stan."

"No, explain it to me! Since when does my bullshit matter to you?!"

"Enough!" Shelly stomped her foot. "I'm not wasting any more time with this. And be grateful that I won't tell Mom about what I saw here."

She then opened the passenger's door. "Now get in the car."

Stan begrudgingly obliged. Afterwards, Shelly entered through the other side and drove away from that neighborhood.

On their way back home, the two siblings remained silent, looking away from each other. The tension was high. Shelly focused on the road ahead of her, and after a few minutes, she finally broke the silence.

"Say, you're gonna keep that sulky face forever?"

"Shut up." Stan growled.

"Seriously, Stan, I know you have a knack for doing dumb things, but there's a limit, alright?"

He turned to his sister, angrily. "Why do you even care? You said it yourself, I'm a pervert. So I might as well act like one."

Shelly was startled. She noticed Stan's expression of resignation.

"That… that's not-"

"Those Eighth Graders are a bunch of perverts anyway. So I can't beat them, I should join them."

She sighed. Stan had already told her about his situation with the Eighth Graders, but she never paid much mind to it, deciding it was his problem alone. But after that night's event, she felt guilty for her inaction. She felt that she needed to help her little brother somehow.

She spoke up, keeping her eyes on the road.

"Do you know why guys like them piss me off so much? It's not because of their dirty comments. It's because they look at a girl and see only a pair of boobs. They don't see the person behind them."

This caught Stan's attention. "Huh?"

"But not you. You've been putting up with someone like me for years, without giving a shit about my look. Because you're someone who cares."

Stan faced his sister in surprise. "Shelly…"

"So never mind the Eighth Graders. You're better than this, Stan. Don't go down to their level."

Stan was visibly touched. Shelly being sentimental was something rare, especially if it was with him.

However, before he could say something, she announced.

"We're here."

He noticed that they had arrived home. After parking the car in the garage, the siblings got off and went inside.

Shelly went to the kitchen while Stan stopped at the stairwell. He contemplated saying something to her, but ultimately decided to leave it for tomorrow. He went to bed. He needed to sleep.