Since only one person responded to my contest, I am leaving it open for another chapter.

The contest: The person who tells me the best alibi to get your parents out of the house for the night that involves a calculator, chicken pox and the end of the world, will be rewarded greatly!

Hooray for chapter 6! Sorry it took a while – I have a full time job now so I don't have as much time for writing and the like. My deviantart page has gone neglected… tears.

Sooooo enjoy chapter 6! Don't forget to review if you read.

Oh and one more note! Thank you all for 1000+ pageviews!

Chapter Six – Kyle's Super Ultra Mega Sobering Solution 2006 – KPOV

The party ended when Stan's sister got home around 2 am. Shelly had gone up to her room to discover two very guilty-looking males ravishing each other on her bed.

Statistics have shown that Shelly's roar caused a sonic boom and deafened everyone within a 200-mile radius.

After she had proceeded to beat both Craig AND Clyde into a pulp (who would have thought she could take two guys?), she ran screaming through the house that if everyone didn't leave immediately, she would call the cops.

Of course, anyone mentioning cops at an underage drinking fest caused a panic. The house was clear in about five minutes, save for me, Stan, and Kenny who was passed out behind the couch.

After everyone had left, Shelly turned to Stan. I winced for Stan's sake. Shelly hadn't exactly been the most forgiving sister in the past.

"What the FUCK were you thinking, letting two gay kids screw around on my bed?" she roared at Stan. Stan blinked once, then twice.

"What do you mean, let them?" he asked, annoyed. "You think they came up to me and ASKED me, 'hey Stan, do you mind if we FUCK EACH OTHER BLIND on your sister's bed?"

That response earned Stan a black eye. The bruise matched the colour of Stan's now rarely-used hat.

After Shelly had left, I turned to Stan, raising an eyebrow. "Craig and Clyde were doing each other on your sister's bed?"

"Apparently," Stan grumbled.

This got me thinking. "Huh. I never would have thought them to be, you know…"

"Gay?"

"Yeah. That's it. Gay." Why did saying that word get so awkward all of a sudden? I surveyed the room.

"Shit, this place looks like a mess." Stan said.

I winced, looking at all the beer bottles surrounding the room. "My thoughts exactly."

"Do you want to clean this place up now and then maybe watch a movie afterwards?" Stan suggested. "That way I won't have to panic when I have 15 minutes in the morning until mom and dad get home."

"Yeah, sure man. Good idea," I agreed. Stan bent over and tried to pick up a mostly empty vodka bottle. He accidentally knocked it over and spilled a few dribbles on the carpet.

"Shit!"

"Dude, the stuff's clear," I consoled. "It won't stain or anything." Stan blushed from embarrassment. I think.

"Yeah, right," he mumbled. He righted the bottle, and starting collecting bottles, as did I. This took a good twenty minutes, as we kept knocking them over and piling them in the wrong places. After that time period, we had about twenty groups of one or two bottles all over the room.

I smacked my head. Duh. We were still drunk. No freakin' wonder this was so difficult. We hadn't even touched the other rooms yet. If we wanted to actually make some progress here, we needed to sober up. Fast.

"Dude, we're too drunk to do anything," I informed Stan as he knocked over his eighth bottle, exclaiming 'Shit!' once more.

I was struck with an idea. Stan looked over, seeing the mischievous grin on my face.

"What?" he asked me, curious.

"I know how we can sober up."

"Oh?" Stan became interested.

"Yes. This situation calls for my classic homemade remedy of drunk-en-ness-be-gone-fo'-shizzle-"

Stan interrupted me. "You're just making this up right now, aren't you?"

He hit it right on, but I pretended that I hadn't heard him. "Marsh, get your sorry ass into the kitchen. You are about to witness the makings of greatness. The making of yours truly's Super Ultra Mega Sobering Solution 2006."

"Kyle's Super Ultra Mega Sobering Solution 2006?" I nodded gleefully. "Dude. Isn't it totally redundant to say Super Ultra and Mega in the same title? Plus what's so special about 2006?"

I batted my lashes at him playfully, and talked in a valley girl voice. "Thilly boy. What'th tho thpecial about 2006? Why, ith it not the year that we can almost drink legally?"

"Almost the year accounts for nothing. It won't be till 2007 till we can drink legally," he stated.

I frowned at him. "Just trust me dude. THIS year is special because I said so, and noone is gonna take that away from me! NOONE!" I pretended to become hysterical, covering my eyes with my hands.

Stan got the cue. "Well maybe I wanna take that away from you, huh? Ever think about that? It's not always about you Kyle!"

I pretended to sob. "It's never about me, Stanley! You always treat me like I'm your little bitch!"

"Well maybe you are my little bitch. My little Kylie bitch!"

"Fuck you! You know what? I won't be your little bitch anymore! You know what I'm gonna do?" Stan shook his head, trying hard not to laugh.

I walked towards him until I was inches away. I stood on my toes, giving me the height advantage. I leaned over and whispered into his ear:

"I'm gonna come into your room in the middle of the night, and I'm gonna fuckin' rape you. Who's the little bitch then?"

I looked down at Stan, who couldn't take it anymore. He collapsed against me laughing, catching me off balance. I fell backwards and landed on the floor, with Stan on top of me, facing me. His face was red from laughing, and I found that I was laughing too. We stayed like that, laughing into each other, for a good few minutes. After that, I became aware that Stan was on top of me.

It felt good.

Just as Stan was pulling himself off of me, Kenny walked by. Apparently he had woken up from his unconscious state.

"Ugh! Dude!" he said. "Give it a break, will you?"

Stan leapt away from me, as though I was diseased. It shouldn't have bothered me, but it did. I would have done the same, I reasoned with myself.

"Dude!" Stan exclaimed, groping for excuses. "I just… fell…" he ended, realizing how lame it sounded.

"Suuuuure. You just 'fell' right onto Kyle."

I tried to support Stan. "It's true! I told him I was gonna rape him…" Kenny's eyes grew wide. Fuck, Kyle thought. That sounded REALLY bad.

"We were just fucking around Ken!" I exclaimed.

"I'll bet you were just 'fucking around', Kyle."

"Dude!" Stan protested.

"You twooooo are inn lurrrrrrve-" he started to purr, but was interrupted when a nauseous look consumed his face.

"Bathroom's down the hall on the right!" I told Ken quickly, knowing what was going to happen.

Kenny gave me a thumbs up before making a run for it. Kenny always drank too much.

"He better not get anything on the carpet," Stan grumbled.

A moment of silence passed.

"What were we doing?" I scratched my head, trying to remember. I fought to pay attention – I was starting to feel the lack of sleep affecting me. It was usually like this – I'd be fine for a while, but when the fatigue DID hit me, it would be fast and unforgiving.

I heard Stan talking. "Your sobering cure."

"Right." I swayed a little, and Stan looked concerned.

"You all right dude?"

"Yeah. The lack of sleep is just starting to affect me, that's all."

"You should lie down for a while. I can clean up by myself."

I shook my head. "No. That wouldn't be fair to you. PLUS we still gotta make the sobering cure. I'll be fine after that."

"But-"

"I'll be fine," I said firmly. I looked around the room and found the cupboard where the Marshes kept their blender. Years of staying over at Stan's house led me to know it just as well as I knew my own, if not better. I pulled the blender out and placed it on the table.

"It's like a smoothie?"

"Yeah. It's just like a smoothie," I improvised.

"So how do we make it?"

I pondered this. "Get everything with caffeine, sugar, or energizing power of some sort out of the cupboards."

Stan raised his eyebrows. "You've never done this before, have you?"

"No," I admitted. "But there's always time for experimentation." I looked into the fridge, pulling out a Gatorade and a red bull. "Here's a start." I poured half the Gatorade and then half the Red Bull into the blender. Knowing Stan didn't like Red Bull, I chucked him the half-empty Gatorade bottle and raised the Red Bull in a toast.

"Cheers," I said before chugging the last of the Red Bull.

"Dude, that stuff is gonna give you a heart attack one day."

"Maybe so, but at least it keeps me awake and going." I could feel the caffeine starting to run through my veins. Ahhh. Nothing like forced awareness.

I raised my hand up to my face to adjust my glasses. Only they weren't there.

"Dude, did I come here with my glasses?" I asked Stan, straining to remember.

Stan scratched his head. "Yeah. I think you did."

"Do you remember where I left them?"

Stan glanced around. He located them on the table. "Here, dude." He passed them to me. I immediately put them on and felt my vision adjust slightly. "Hah. I thought it was more than my drunken state that was making me see poorly!"

Stan cast a glance at the contents of the blender. The blue Gatorade and mashed together with the red bull to create a dark purpley colour.

"Dude, that is so sick," he stated.

The refound energy from the Red Bull let me return back to my normal self, at least for a little while. "And we're just getting started," I said, grinning like a maniac.

Stan looked at me. "You look insane dude."

"Maybe I am." I wandered over to the cupboard and found a Power Bar. Unwrapping it, I dropped the full thing into the blender. Stan looked nauseous.

"Come on dude, help me!" I prodded. "You got any coffee beans?"

"You're going to put coffee beans in there?" He made a face.

"Duh. Coffee beans always help!"

"We don't have any, just that powder stuff. But we have chocolate covered coffee beans."

"Perfect! It will be a chocolate sobering cure!"

Stan looked at the mess with his eyebrows raised. "I don't think that's gonna taste like chocolate."

"Whatever dude, chocolate coffee beans go in." I located them and put and handful in.

Stan was starting to get into it. "Bread helps!" he announced, pulling out a slice of bread.

"It does! Throw it in!"

He obliged.

"Oranges help!" I decided, and peeled an orange and put it in.

"Vanilla for flavouring!"

"Rice Krispies for crispness!"

"Ice for coldness!"

"Mayonnaise because it's a good condiment!"

"Ketchup because it's a better condiment!"

"An egg!"

"Why an egg?"

"Because it's cliché!"

"Oh. Alright then."

"Gummi worms because of sugar!"

"Leftover pizza because I said so!" Stan ended with a flourish.

"Alright now let's blend it up!" I announced. I plugged it in and Stan placed on the lid. Stan pushed the button to blend.

It took a good five minutes until most of the chunks were running smooth. When we were finished, it was a big, gloppy mess with bits of orange, gummy worms, pizza, and everything else in. It looked like it needed to be chewed. The colour was light brown.

Stan took one look at it and turned slightly green.

"Glasses," he murmured and pulled two large glasses out of the cupboard.

I poured the chunky mess into the two glasses. The last fell out with a sickening squelch.

Stan looked at me. "Are we actually going to drink this?"

I took a look at it. "That was the intent." I poked it, and I swear to God, it giggled.

"…You go first," Stan said.

"You pussy," I said. I raised the glass to my lips. It smelled disgusting. It looked disgusting. I took a big gulp and swallowed fast. I quickly pressed a hand against my stomach to stop it from coming back up immediately.

It tasted disgusting.

Grimacing, I forced a smile at Stan. "It's… not bad," I managed to say.

"Liar."

"Whatever. You take a gulp."

Stan grimaced, but did so. His face immediately turned green with nausea, and I actually thought we was going to be sick.

"Come on Stan! Take it like a man! Hold it down!" I cheered for him. He managed to keep it down.

He shuddered. "Fucking sick dude."

The next twenty minutes were spent force-feeding ourselves the vile drink. After that, we sat around for ten minutes, trying to keep it down.

After a little while longer, I felt the nausea pass.

"How you feelin' dude?" I asked Stan.

"Never again, dude. Never again." He moaned.

"How you feelin'?" I repeated.

"Better," he admitted.

"Aha! My sobering solution works!"

"I'd rather have a hangover than drink that shit again."

"Yeah. Me too," I admitted.

We spent the next ten minutes walking around. Once we could both walk in a relatively straight line again, we started to clean up. The mess wasn't too bad actually. It was mostly empty beer bottles lying around. No one had puked on the floor anywhere thankfully, but Kenny had passed out again on the toilet seat. I rolled him into the Bacchus position before we continued cleaning. Shelly had kicked all the bottles that were in her room out, and we could hear her snoring loudly from within.

It took us a good two hours to finish cleaning. By that point, it was 5 am and I was about to pass out on the floor from exhaustion. Me and Stan wordlessly sat on the couch. Stan brought in a bunch of blankets and he put in a movie. He covered ourselves in the blankets and got comfortable on his big couch. I sat at one end, Stan at the other.

The warmth and heat were hitting me really fast. I felt myself start to fall asleep, falling over sideways onto Stan. He didn't seem to care, and I closed my eyes. I was asleep within minutes.

The last thing I remember saying was "Goodnight Marsh."

The last thing I remember hearing was "Goodnight Broflovski."

- End Chapter 6

Aw how cute! Sorry it's a little bit shorter than the last chapter!

Now if you all don't mind, leave a review! PLEASE!