Having been at prom for a whopping thirty minutes, Stan decided to walk Kyle home.

This was interesting, because Stan's house was closer to the high school gymnasium where the prom had been located than Kyle's was.

So it wound up that Stan walked Kyle home retroactively.

It was a shame, too, because the thirty minutes would have gone quite well…if they hadn't happened. Oxymoron.

Kyle and Stan had agreed to meet up halfway to the school, and go together, in a very normal and natural and Super Best Friends kind of way. Because they weren't quite sure if it was ok to hold hands in public in South Park (because, after all, lying in each others arms in the middle of the street in Telluride is apparently completely different), they had walked linked by their pinkies, which actually looked much gayer, but nobody bothered to tell them.

That is, until Kenny, who very inconveniently had decided that wearing a dress shirt underneath his parka with his hood down so that his voice could be clearly heard was dressing up, announced this fact.

Very loudly.

Once he had, eight other sets of eyes immediately sought them out. To be exact, these were the eyes of Cartman and Wendy (which were particularly intense, for some reason), Bébé, Butters, a Visitor and the Crab Person it happened to be escorting to prom (go figure), the prom committee girl, and, perhaps the most uncomfortable of all, Jesus, who for some reason or another had decided to chaperone.

Whats more, Kenny hadn't even bothered to get a ticket, just walked right into the gymnasium and no one said anything. And still, he had two dates.

Needless to say, his afformentioned two dates, who happened to be Bébé and Butters, were the only people willing to talk to Kenny for the rest of the night.

Kyle, glowering profusely, went inside to get some punch, where he happened to notice Craig and Tweek glowering at one another from either sides of the gymnasium. Apparently they had decided that their relationship was just too out of character, and they had gone back to being mortal enemies. For the time being.

Stan had laughed uncomfortably to the eight pairs of eyes, and then went to join Kyle at the punch bowl. Wendy and Cartman followed.

This made Stan slightl uncomfortable, so he laughed awkwardly for a moment, and then sidesteped through the shutting gymnasium door to try and avoid them, but miraculously they were able to sidestep through the door too.

Cue the highly appropriate "Super Mario Bros." themesong.

What ensued was Stan doing limbo moves, carthweels, and an impressive jitterbug to try and keep Wendy and Cartman from following him, but nevertheless, he always found them breathing down his neck.

Stan yelled and then ran around the gymnasium with Cartman and Wendy at his heels. His running pattern became a u-shape around the gym, to the door, where he exited, and then reentered gasping for breath, and quickly pressed his back against the door to keep it shut with Cartman and Wendy just outside, pounding on the door and yelling profanities and that he should Respect Their Authoritah.

"Ooh! A lock in!" Bébé said enthusiastically to her two dates. Butters, who was jammed up between Kenny and Bébé, tried to squirm away, but unfortunately they were trying to get closer to each other and had him trapped between Kenny's parka, and Bébé's breasts. Butters was having a hard time deciding which was more uncomfortable.

"You know, I think I figured out why you're like an orange cream soda." Bébé said to Kenny in the context of the conversation they were successfully having.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I like orange cream soda, and I like you." She said and grinned at him. He grinned back. They looked kind of maniacle, like super villains or something. Then, to Butter's relief, they grabbed hands and ran off to the darkest corner they could find, and dissapeared for a while. It was pretty much assumed that they didn't want to be found.

When Cartman and Wendy decided to try and go through the back door, this gave Stan some time to leave the door, find Kyle, and get the hell out of there.

Unfortunately, the thirty minutes wasn't quite up yet, so much sillier antics, including a drunken Kyle, were still to come.

Stan found Kyle laughing drunkenly, and hiting on Jesus, with a cup of punch in his hand.

Smacking himself in the forhead, Stan demanded to know just who it was that had spiked the punch.

Craig, whose side of the gym Stan happened to be on, gave him an incredulous look.

"No one spiked it. I've been watching it all night." He said.

Thus, Kyle had achieved a new standard, by apparently managing to get drunk off of non-alcoholic punch.

"Come on, princess, we're going home." Stan said, grabbed Kyle's hand, and went to exit the prom, shooting an apologetic look to Jesus, who actually just looked very amused.

Thirty years later, Stan would still insist that he had left prom with his dignity intact. Even with a sinewy Jewish boy, apparently drunk off of non-alcoholic punch, slung over his right shoulder, giggling hysterically.

Unfortunately, they were cornered by Cartman and Wendy.

"Oh, God damn it, I can't believe you two remembered that stupid bet." Stan said.

Kyle sighed.

"God damn it, not only do they remember that stupid bet, but my flawless plan to get out of here by passing for being drunk off of non-alcoholic punch was, apparently, flawed." He said agitatedly.

Stan glowered, but then got confused because he wasn't sure if he should be glowering at Kyle's ass, which was quite silly, but somehow appropriate, or at Cartman and Wendy, who were watching them expectantly, with their arms crossed.

"Put me down, Stan." Kyle said.

"No." Stan said, and kept walking. Cartman and Wendy kept in stride.

"Stan, put me down unless you intend to keep talking to my ass for the rest of the night."

Stan fidgeted. He knew that he'd have to put Kyle down eventually, but he could wait until last minute. He could wait just until last second, maybe. He could wait.

Once he put him down, and he and Kyle went their separate ways, it would suddenly hit them that they were back in South Park, back home where it was harder to get randomly tackled or lie down in the street and plan romantic horror movies and little crayola drawings of two stick figure guys holding hands beneath a smiling sun…

Had it all been pent up Sexual Tension, which would fade away once the experience became a memory? Would "wrestlin'" become a foot note in their friendship, or even their friendship become a footnote in their lives? Would prom take it all away?

Damn, he really hated it when those kinds of questions were posed; questions that made it seem like his life were a sitcom with a cheesy voice-over announcer.

Either way, Stan had a very lucid moment of an epiphany, that Wendy and Cartman and their bet represented some of the ways this could all go. But really, it was a moment. Everything happened in a moment, in a space of time where your whole life can suddenly change, because each second you learn and process something new. For the worse or better, who knows, but it would never be the same. And no matter how much Stan could try to prevent it, things did change. They grew and evolved, but yet they always were, always had at least been there.

So, Stan stopped, put Kyle down, and then grabbed him and kissed him, because he could. And because he could, Kyle kissed him back.

And so it was that Wendy won her twenty dollars, but gave her boyfriend, who was almost weeping because he hadn't just lost, he had lost twenty dollars, a comforting pat on the back, and promised that this was only one phase in rise, and imminent battle for dominance, of their two empires. Back in fourth grade, after a particularly wacky misadventure involving a possessed math text book, she had bet him twenty dollars that Stan and Kyle were such total boyfriends that they'd be found making out either on, or before prom night. Cartman had bet her that they'd be too confused and wrought with sexual tension that they'd spend years beating around the fence, yes, fence, because it was more appropriate, than finally get the balls to jump over. Then they called each other some very insulting and colourful names. Then they went and split a pizza and a chocolate milkshake. Two straws. Stan and Kyle had of course known about this, thus accounting for Stan's irrational anxiety about prom night; he was worried that he may forget to bring some altoids, too.

Stan and Kyle, meanwhile, continued to make-out, and apparently it was so hot that anyone who watched for any longer than five minutes would immediately incinerate.

A very happy and well-loved Kenny, who had apparently been among the incinerated kids, informed them on Monday at school that it was even hotter than the Mackey/Choksondik porno he and Bébé had unearthed somewhere in the broom closet on prom night in between rounds. But that is a tale on its own that everyone but Kenny and Bébé declared as too much information, so it was never discussed ever again.

When prom was finally over, and kids started emerging in preparation to head home, and the death toll induced by Stan and Kyle's totally hot make-out session reached about twenty, they realized that they had only actually been at prom for thirty minutes, and had spent the rest of the time outside, attacking and kissing each other like wild dogs, in full public view, although they weren't really in danger of anyone else finding out because all twenty witnesses had been burned beyond recognition, and they were quite happy this way.

Stan decided to walk Kyle home.

This was interesting, because Stan's house was closer to the high school gymnasium where the prom had been located than Kyle's was.

So it wound up that Stan walked Kyle home retroactively.

Déjà-vu, the sensation that you've done something more than once.

Déjà-vu, the sensation that you've done something more than once.

Déjà-vu, the sensation that you've done something more than once.

Déjà-vu, the sensation that you've done something more than…right, ok, it stopped being funny the second time.

The two Super Best Friends stood out on Stan's front lawn, holding hands, and grinning, because really they were partners in crime…in addition to everything else.

They talked for a while, about everything and nothing in particular, but mostly they were biding their time until they had to disconnect and part ways for the evening, although even when they did they wouldn't have even one finger in reality, because all of their digits were still connected to the others.

The next day, they decided to go play violent video games where people shoot each other in the face with guns, and then go cow tipping as their first "official" date, because that's the kind of couple they were.

And because we never really stop living for these kinds of things, it wasn't the end, just kind of a bizarre beginning that wasn't even really a beginning, just a change.

The Beginning.

A Last Long Ass Authors note:

Well, hey! Last Chapter! That was some fun!

Yeah, chapter seven? Not my best work. In fact, it was kind of stupid. But, for some reason, I felt it was necessary. Because I'm kind of an idiot. Yay me!

Anyway, thank you to those of you who have reviewed and favourited! I owe you each a hug, because I honestly didn't expect anyone to like this, and, well, hey! People did! Most of which are completely awesome writers themselves! Thank you! When I first started writing this, I in no way expected it to receive the praise and encouragement that it has. I am especially flattered by those of you who said that my writing was in-character and appropriate for South Park, because I wound up doing a lot of research (WikiPedia 3) about things that I didn't know about. I feel kind of ashamed to admit it, but I've only been a South Park fan since this past February, when I got to see the movie, and realized, "Hey! This is pretty much my sense of humour right here…I mean, they make fun of everything equally! Yays!" and then it became my weirdest pipe-dream to go and become a writer for South Park, which won't happen, but dreams are nice, so I wrote this instead.

I also had pretty much no pre-planning going into this. None. The entire thing was written on whims, which made me go research and watch and just have a creative outlet.

Ahem.

And, I'm also toying of the idea of writing a sequel, because back when I first got the idea to do this, I initially wanted to do it entirely about something that was only mentioned briefly in chapter six. Its hard, though, because all of the ideas for that got used in here…and I'd want to make it a little darker than this one, and the whole reason I wrote this was to be lighthearted. Hahaha.

Also? Mackey/Choksondik porno was done just for Seaouryou. Because Seaouryouthe awesomes!11!sixteen!

-Sidra, out for now