Occupation Irritation, Part 2
ANNOUNCER: Last Time On "South Park".
"Maaammm! I need sah Cheesy Poofs!" The disgruntled voice cried out from the living room of one house in particular. The brunette woman in the kitchen smiled warmly at her teenage son's enthusiasm.
"Coming, hon!"
The middle-aged woman hummed jovially as she opened the cupboard doors, searching for that appetizing bag of her son's favorite snack food... and then she frowned. The cupboards were bare. The food was all gone. Oh, well. Maybe there was some in the refrigerator. She opened the door and peered inside.
Uh oh. She knew that her little poopsikins would not be happy about this.
"We're out, hon."
The reaction was instantaneous. Someone might well have dropped a atomic bomb on her house right then.
"WHAT???!!!!!!!!"
"Looks like you'll have to get a job if you want some Cheesy Poofs, hon."
*****
"Eric, how about a probation period?"
"What's that?"
"Well, you work with me for a while, just do your job, with no pay. Then, if you do well, I'll let you keep the job, and you will begin earning your money. It's a honor system."
Eric felt like throwing a tantrum. No pay?! For how long?! But he also knew that if he wanted those cheesy poofs, he would have to play along. For a little while, at least.
"Okay."
ANNOUNCER: Will Cartman keep his job and buy another crunchy bag of cheesy poofs? Find out tonight!
ALL CHARACTERS AND EVENTS IN THIS FAN FIC-EVEN THOSE BASED ON REAL PEOPLE-ARE ENTIRELY FICTIONAL. ALL CELEBRITY VOICES ARE IMPERSONATED... POORLY. THE FOLLOWING FANFIC CONTAINS COARSE LANGUAGE AND DUE TO ITS CONTENT IT SHOULD NOT BE READ BY ANYONE.
AHH, WHAT THE HELL. READ IT ANYWAY.
Sharon Marsh looked down at Eric Cartman, who was dressed in a white doctor's robe, as they prepared to alter a patient's nose via plastic surgery. "Are you ready, Eric? This is the hardest part of the job."
"Yeah, uh, what the hell do I gotta do again?"
The woman sighed. This had been the millionth time that the fatboy had asked that question since he had started. She was beginning to wonder if he had the competency and intelligence to pass his probation period. "Just like I told you, Eric. You've just got to turn on the gas, but not too high. That way, the patient remains calm and pain-free during this surgery."
Cartman looked at the gas tank, which was attached to the patient's face through a gas mask. "You mean like this?" He turned to the gas up to 250 PSI. Sharon nodded approvingly.
Eric looked at the man reclined in the chair, his eyes just fluttering but not yet asleep. "He's not still tranquil. I'll give it more volume." Cartman turned back to the valve handle. Sharon whirled around toward him wildly, her eyes wide.
"Cartman! NO!"
Too late. Cartman had turned the valve to 500 PSI.
Horrified, Sharon barely had time to flinch back before the patient, instead of sleeping comfortably in his chair, leaped up out of it, the gas mask still attached to his face. He yanked it off, and laughed hysterically. Cartman and Sharon dove for cover behind the chair as the man began to bounce all over the room before breaking through the wall, landing on the back parking lot outside. Picking himself up, the man started to run away towards the mountain peaks in the distance.
Wearily, Sharon watched him disappear into the horizon and spun on Cartman, eyes burning with rage. "What the hell happened?! He was supposed to be asleep!"
"Yah, I know. I administered the laughing gas like you said."
Sharon's eyes were dinner plates. "YOU WHAT?!"
"I filled the tanks with laughing gas, like you said tah."
Sharon palmed her face, trying to not lose her temper. "I told you to GET RID of the laughing gas, and fill the gas tank with tranquilizer gas! You have completely screwed it up! Thanks to you, that man is probably half-way to Utah by now!"
"I'm sorrah. Give me another chance."
Sharon pointed toward the door in the waiting room, where several waiting patients were staring at her, wondering what the hell was going on. "No, that was your one and only chance! You will never work in plastic surgery again! Please leave."
Cartman walked out, muttering "Cranky Bitch" as he left.
Sharon heard it, but not very clearly, since Cartman had mumbled it under his breath. "What was that?!"
"I said I have a ranky itch!"
NEXT: Plastic Surgery didn't work. What field of work will Cartman get into now? Perhaps... being a stock boy at J-Mart? Be here next time for the next hilarious chapter of "Occupation Irritation!"
ANNOUNCER: Last Time On "South Park".
"Maaammm! I need sah Cheesy Poofs!" The disgruntled voice cried out from the living room of one house in particular. The brunette woman in the kitchen smiled warmly at her teenage son's enthusiasm.
"Coming, hon!"
The middle-aged woman hummed jovially as she opened the cupboard doors, searching for that appetizing bag of her son's favorite snack food... and then she frowned. The cupboards were bare. The food was all gone. Oh, well. Maybe there was some in the refrigerator. She opened the door and peered inside.
Uh oh. She knew that her little poopsikins would not be happy about this.
"We're out, hon."
The reaction was instantaneous. Someone might well have dropped a atomic bomb on her house right then.
"WHAT???!!!!!!!!"
"Looks like you'll have to get a job if you want some Cheesy Poofs, hon."
*****
"Eric, how about a probation period?"
"What's that?"
"Well, you work with me for a while, just do your job, with no pay. Then, if you do well, I'll let you keep the job, and you will begin earning your money. It's a honor system."
Eric felt like throwing a tantrum. No pay?! For how long?! But he also knew that if he wanted those cheesy poofs, he would have to play along. For a little while, at least.
"Okay."
ANNOUNCER: Will Cartman keep his job and buy another crunchy bag of cheesy poofs? Find out tonight!
ALL CHARACTERS AND EVENTS IN THIS FAN FIC-EVEN THOSE BASED ON REAL PEOPLE-ARE ENTIRELY FICTIONAL. ALL CELEBRITY VOICES ARE IMPERSONATED... POORLY. THE FOLLOWING FANFIC CONTAINS COARSE LANGUAGE AND DUE TO ITS CONTENT IT SHOULD NOT BE READ BY ANYONE.
AHH, WHAT THE HELL. READ IT ANYWAY.
Sharon Marsh looked down at Eric Cartman, who was dressed in a white doctor's robe, as they prepared to alter a patient's nose via plastic surgery. "Are you ready, Eric? This is the hardest part of the job."
"Yeah, uh, what the hell do I gotta do again?"
The woman sighed. This had been the millionth time that the fatboy had asked that question since he had started. She was beginning to wonder if he had the competency and intelligence to pass his probation period. "Just like I told you, Eric. You've just got to turn on the gas, but not too high. That way, the patient remains calm and pain-free during this surgery."
Cartman looked at the gas tank, which was attached to the patient's face through a gas mask. "You mean like this?" He turned to the gas up to 250 PSI. Sharon nodded approvingly.
Eric looked at the man reclined in the chair, his eyes just fluttering but not yet asleep. "He's not still tranquil. I'll give it more volume." Cartman turned back to the valve handle. Sharon whirled around toward him wildly, her eyes wide.
"Cartman! NO!"
Too late. Cartman had turned the valve to 500 PSI.
Horrified, Sharon barely had time to flinch back before the patient, instead of sleeping comfortably in his chair, leaped up out of it, the gas mask still attached to his face. He yanked it off, and laughed hysterically. Cartman and Sharon dove for cover behind the chair as the man began to bounce all over the room before breaking through the wall, landing on the back parking lot outside. Picking himself up, the man started to run away towards the mountain peaks in the distance.
Wearily, Sharon watched him disappear into the horizon and spun on Cartman, eyes burning with rage. "What the hell happened?! He was supposed to be asleep!"
"Yah, I know. I administered the laughing gas like you said."
Sharon's eyes were dinner plates. "YOU WHAT?!"
"I filled the tanks with laughing gas, like you said tah."
Sharon palmed her face, trying to not lose her temper. "I told you to GET RID of the laughing gas, and fill the gas tank with tranquilizer gas! You have completely screwed it up! Thanks to you, that man is probably half-way to Utah by now!"
"I'm sorrah. Give me another chance."
Sharon pointed toward the door in the waiting room, where several waiting patients were staring at her, wondering what the hell was going on. "No, that was your one and only chance! You will never work in plastic surgery again! Please leave."
Cartman walked out, muttering "Cranky Bitch" as he left.
Sharon heard it, but not very clearly, since Cartman had mumbled it under his breath. "What was that?!"
"I said I have a ranky itch!"
NEXT: Plastic Surgery didn't work. What field of work will Cartman get into now? Perhaps... being a stock boy at J-Mart? Be here next time for the next hilarious chapter of "Occupation Irritation!"
