Chapter 4: No More Mr. Nice America
It was a Tuesday Morning. The four boys were in their lesson; having to learn their usual day's maths, much to their disagreement. Marcus was sitting in the corner of the room; taking notes on his laptop as usual.
"OK Children…" Mrs. Garrison began speaking. "…Today we're gunna go over multiplication and division numbers today. So can anyone tell me what seven times five is, anybody?" The class remained silent. "Come on, anybody?" The class were still quiet. Whether they knew the answer and just couldn't be bothered to put their hand up or they just didn't know was still to be worked out.
Finally, Stan raised his hand.
"Errrrrrr, 12!"
"No, anybody else."
Kyle raised his hand.
"Errrrrrr, 2!"
"NO! Can anybody give me the real answer!" Mrs. Garrison was starting to get a bit frustrated over this. Marcus really wanted to just give the answer to them, but he knew he couldn't. Yet at the same time, he wanted the lesson to continue on. Five extra minutes past and still no one had got the right answer. "Come on! It's a f---ing easy question. What's f---ing seven times by f---ing five!" Everyone was surprised by what the teacher had just said.
Marcus had had enough. He stood up and moved towards the blackboard. "Ermmm, teacher, allow me to give them a little help. I'm sure I can give some assistance to them." Marcus spoke.
"Alright fine!" Mrs. Garrison replied in a very annoyed tone of voice.
"OK kids, now we have this problem ok. Seven multiplied by five simply means that you have to add on five sevens starting from the number zero or the other way round. So if we keep adding sevens; when looking at how many times we have to do this (which is five), we get the answer……" Strangely enough, the kids understood this and everyone seemed to put their hand up. "Yes, Kyle, what's the answer!"
"Is it 35?" Kyle spoke; in a more confident tone than previous.
"Correct, you got it." Marcus replied. At which point, Mrs. Garrison was stunned into shock.
"How the f--- did you do that!"
But before Marcus could give the answer, someone on an intercom began.
"Attention, could all students, teachers, visitors and everybody else please report to the Assembly Hall for a news briefing."
About ten minutes later, everyone was now inside the Hall. There were multiple mumbles and conversations going on between groups of people. Marcus was standing by the nearby wall with one foot balancing against the wall and the other on the ground. With his laptop and case around one shoulder, he looked up at the ceiling in confusion with his hands in his jean pockets.
"OK everyone. Quiet down." The principal started speaking; standing in front of everybody in the centre of the hall. "We're about to watch a broadcasting from the White House. The President has told every school in the country that everyone in America must watch this as it is very important. So no talking and listen closely to what he says." Finished speaking, the principal turned on the television which was big enough for everyone to see. It automatically turned onto the news channel. Marcus looked towards the TV to watch as well.
The news reporter began speaking.
"We're now going live to the White House where the President of the United States is about to make a speech."
The channel switched to a live screen of the oval office of the White House. Sitting there was the President.
"My fellow Americans (oh yeh……and New Orleans). Today is a very dark day for the close bond between our precious country of America and the country of Great Britain. I'm sure that you are all aware that a British spy satellite was found in an impact crater not too far from the small town of South Park in Colorado.
We have had many confrontations and disagreements with the United Kingdom over the years; Independence Day, Invasion of Iraq and even who deserved more credit in the win in World War Two, but today came the biggest decision that I believe has changed the history of the friendship of these countries……forever…but for good though.
Exactly thirty minutes ago, a decision was made by me and other representatives that all British-born American civilians from Great Britain will be sent back to their own country. This will begin on Monday of next week and will run for exactly three days. Anyone who knows of any British-born people living in their area, please contact your local police department for further information. That is all. Have a safe day America."
The TV was turned off and everyone turned to look at Marcus straight away. The four boys were in a slight state of shock. But Marcus was even more shocked by what he heard. Not knowing what to say or do, Marcus walked out of the Assembly Hall through the double doors repeatedly saying the word 'F---' all the time. He picked out his little digital communicator device and immediately contacted an unknown number.
"MI6 Core Sector 2.5; Identify yourself." A voice started to speak.
"This is Marcus Kane-Bridge. Remember me!"
"Ah yes, Kane-Bridge, I suppose you saw the broadcasting at the White House, yes?"
Marcus was too annoyed to reply, he resumed speaking. "Why the f--- did you not tell me about this spy satellite that you had going this whole time."
"We had to keep it secret; otherwise you wouldn't have agreed to continue this mission. But since someone shot it down, it seemed that the problem got out of control at that point."
"That's still no excuse to blind me from the truth. I'm only doing this f---ing mission because I have this stupid college course to complete here in South Park. It was only a coincidence that the mission was also going to be here as well."
"Well you don't have to worry about college anymore. We managed to erase your place at your college so that you could focus more on the mission."
Marcus was stunned into oblivion. "You what?...You f---ing b------s!"
"Hey Kane-Bridge. Don't forget you're still under contract here at MI6 and you're still contracted to the mission, YOU GOT THAT?"
"F--- the mission! You've just stole my future from me. Do you realise how hard I had to work to get my place at that college you f---er. And now all you care about is you and your stupid mission. Well forget about it!"
"So you're just going to let your parents die……is that it!"
"My……my parents. What do you mean!"
"Our intelligence has confirmed the sighting of a large group of illegal immigrants entering the country; probably either to live here and live off our tax money or they're here to cause more violence. It seems they're targeting large areas of London."
"Well why isn't anybody doing anything about it!"
"We're trying, but most of us are focused on this mission. Kane-Bridge, I am giving you the next objective of your mission. I've already sent it to you on your laptop. You should get it in a few minutes. You do this and we will try to sort this other problem out."
Before Marcus could reply, the person hung up and Marcus was led in not only an angered state, but also a frustrated state. He had lost his girlfriend, his place in college and his trust in this unusual group of people. The bell rang for recess and Marcus made his way towards the playground area; desperate to find out what his new mission objective was, like he cared about what it was anyway.
A few minutes later, Marcus was sat outside on a bench. He had got a little hot headed from before and so he had his hat sat down straight next to him. This was the first time that he had actually had his hat off since he got here. With his hat now not on his head it was clear to see that Marcus had an unusual colour of hair; about halfway between black and brown. His hair wasn't short, but long enough to go down and stop just past his ears and neck. Most of it was combed straight down; however there were little bits of it that stuck out slightly.
Looking at his laptop's screen, Marcus began to read the message he was sent, to himself in a silent voice.
"Kane-Bridge; it is important that you read and read well these instructions. It seems that the enemy is getting very suspicious about the whereabouts of both yourself and the four subject targets.
We can not take any more dangerous actions; this mission must succeed according to plan. That is why you will find attached to this message; document information regarding five PLANE TICKETS HEADING TO LONDON NEXT WEEK...?"
Marcus stopped in a state of both confusion and shock.
"Plane tickets, what are they planning for me to do now!" He continued to read on.
"…..You must get the four subject targets along with yourself, to travel to London. We suggest staying at your own home, instead of one of those rubbish travel lodge hotels. Plans are already underway in how we are to tackle this other problem. Don't lose focus on the task at hand. The problems between our country and America WILL be resolved. If not, then we are not sure what will happen.
We understand you are having problems trying to hide this truth from these four boys………"
"How the hell did they know that!"
……but if you can get them to London; securely and safely, then I'm sure it won't be long until you can finally tell them everything about what's going on. Don't worry; we have studied these boys well. I'm sure they will understand. Good luck Kane-Bridge; MI5 and MI6 are counting on you!"
Marcus closed his laptop and put it to one side.
"Tell them everything? And how am I supposed to do that?"
Picking up his laptop again, he opened it again and began playing some music on it; browsing through the web as he did so.
Meanwhile, the four boys were finally out in the playground. As usual, they were arguing over something that Cartman had said.
"Ah come on guys. This'll make us lots of money." Cartman spoke; pleading with the other three to agree with him.
"Cartman, no. First of all, we already said it was a bad idea the other night. And second, all you care about is getting your fat, greedy, self-centred ass rich." Kyle replied; showing his complete disagreement in what Cartman had said. The three boys had already began walking towards Marcus was; leaving Cartman standing and thinking about what he was going to say. He finally managed to catch up with the others. (but not without continuing to yap on about his ever so brilliant idea)
But his pleas finally came to an end when along with the others; he stood silent in slight confusion as to what Marcus had on his head. (In that I mean his hair)
Noticing the four boys, Marcus began speaking.
"Hey boys. What's up!"
The four boys remained silent; looking at one another in confusion.
"What?"
"Errrrrrr, can we ask you a question!" Stan asked; showing signs of confusion in his voice.
"Is it about my hair?" Marcus replied; putting his laptop to one side and placing his hands in his jacket pockets. The four boys started to try to say 'yes' but showed more signs of being stumped or puzzled.
"Well………sort of." Kyle replied.
"OK fine, ask the question." Marcus readied himself for what he thought was going to be a stupid question.
"What's with your f---ing hair!" Cartman spoke; surprising everyone including Marcus; who smiled and laughed.
"Oh right, you mean the style of it. Well, this is quite a popular style in my home country. So I decided to grow it like this and keep it this way. I know you Americans probably haven't seen this style before, so I'm not surprised you're shocked."
"Yeh, we're shocked alright." Stan replied; finally speaking in his normal tone of voice.
"Good, well then that's settled. I have to be going now; I've got more work to do on my laptop." But before Marcus could turn around and walk off, Cartman butted in.
"Oh wait Marcus, I've just thought of a brilliant idea."
"Cartman, don't you f---ing dare say what I think you're gunna say." Kyle replied; walking right up to Cartman as he spoke and pointing at him.
"What!" Marcus picked his laptop up and put his hat back on; which virtually covered up every bit of hair on his head.
"Ahem, Mr. Kame-Bridge……"
"Kane-Bridge!"
"Kane-Bridge, right right right, we four have been really impressed by your musical abilities both in and out of the school classrooms……"
"………What!" Marcus was very puzzled by what Cartman was going to say in his very smart and confident-sounding tone of voice.
"……and we have taken it into deep consideration that maybe you have the perfect talent that we've been looking for to take that HUGE step up in becoming famous………
"………What the heck are you talking about?"
"……we were wondering, would you like to sign up to our record label and we can help you become an international star? I KNOW that you have great skills as a music……guy, and we realise that your skills need to be expressed all over the world."
Kyle rolled his eyes and sighed.
"………Sorry, I wish I had time to play in your game but I've got a lot of work to do. See yer!" Marcus walked off; leaving a shocked Cartman in confusion.
"GOD DAM IT!" Cartman yelled.
"See, that's what you get when you become too greedy that you only care about yourself fat-ass."
"Yeh Cartman, he was obviously going to say no."
While this was going on, Marcus had stopped as he was listening in to what the four boys were saying.
"But he has real talent. And I believe he can become really famous."
"You're only saying that because you just want 10 of the money that he makes."
"Oh that is totally not true Stan. If I only cared about making money, then why would I have sneaked up to his house the other night and listened to him playing that very nice tune."
"……You didn't even know he could write and make his own music Cartman! You're such a fat self-centred f---ing piece of s---." Kyle yelled; becoming even more annoyed at Cartman then any of the other two.
"Shut up you f---ing Jew. You call me that again and I'll knock you out!"
"I knew you were there that night." Marcus spoke; now standing right next to the four boys.
"What! You knew?" Stan spoke.
"Yeh, at first I thought it was a great idea for you to help me record more music. But just now, I've been having a few problems and I've not been in the best of moods."
"But……will you say yes?" Cartman spoke; desperate for Marcus to say yes.
Marcus remembered something. He picked a card out of his jean pocket and gave it to Kyle.
"What's this!" Kyle asked; at which the four boys all looked at the card.
"It's the address of the club I'm going to be doing a gig at. I want you boys to come and see what you think of me. I'm going to be doing a DJ set on Saturday night at that club."
"Woahhhh, sweet!" Stan and Kyle both spoke.
"Oh man, aren't those clubs just full of freaks who listen to crap music." Cartman spoke; expressing his disgust.
"Oh no, this one's different. It's not full of that hard-core ibizan ear-deathening dance crap, hell no. It's a huge studio-like club with DJs who play a whole range of party music."
"Woohoo!" Kenny jumped slightly in joy.
"What time is it!"
"Well the club opens at about 6 and I'm the second DJ on. I'll be doing about a half an hour show so I should start at about…….6:30. So, you coming?"
"Hell yeah!" Kyle spoke.
"Brilliant. Like I said, the address and the location of the club are on the card. Well, gotta be going, see yer Saturday Night." Marcus walked off with a huge grin on his face and his fists scrunched up in delight.
The four boys walked off as well.
"Alright, this is going to be so cool!" Stan spoke.
"Yeh, it's gunna be AWESOME!" Kenny replied; seemingly the more excited of the four.
"What did I tell you yer guys! I guess my idea worked after all." Cartman spoke.
"……No it didn't." Kyle's face quickly turned to a face of denial.
"Yes it did."
"NO IT DIDN'T. He didn't say yes to what you said, he just invited us to come to the club where he's playing at."
"Oh whatever Kyle, I shouldn't have expected less than you my poor poor Jewish friend. I guess you Jews can never work out he true meanings of our society and interactions." Cartman, although sounding sincere, was obviously just being annoying.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Come on Kyle, let's just play football with everybody else." Stan spoke; trying to calm Kyle's slightly bad-tempered voice down.
With enough said, the four boys walked over and began playing football with the others. Marcus looked back to see the four boys who were now on the far side of the playground. He began to speak to himself; continuing to walk outside of the playground premises.
"I wonder if their hair looks weird as well. It's either that or the pictures I've got are just lying to me."