Ok, not my usual thing, but it's been an idea that has been bugging me for a while. Some slashy goodness between Stan x Kenny later, may have later chapters with other pairings, rated T for now, just in case, but the rating may go up (P) Enjoy
Alcohol is bad, especially if you have a history of alcoholism in your family, and you live in a town where the best thrill lurks at the bottom of a bottle. Throw in some raging teenage hormones, and a very manipulatively cruel friend, and strange things are bound to happen.
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South Park
Alcohol is Bad!
(Kenny's POV)
Part 1
"What would you do for $100?"
There is a lot of things I would do for $100. I know the other guys would laugh at me, and probably wouldn't let me live it down. In fact, I'm almost certain if I did anything really stupid, Cartman would end up posting it on the internet, and everyone in the world would know. Honestly though, I don't see what the big deal is. I'm not really one to think about what other people think about me. That's petty and a waste of time. The only time it's not worth it is if it's going to lead to someone else getting hurt. I can care less if I hurt myself, I've already died and gone to heaven. . and hell. Though there was this one thing I did, that I sort of regret. .
Stan's Big Birthday Slash. . I mean Bash
It was October the 18th. I remember that because it was right before Stan's birthday. It had been a chilly day, not cold enough to be completely bundled up, but cold enough that it was snowing, and had been since the day before. Kyle, Cartman, and I had been planning a birthday surprise for Stan, since he was just about to turn 18. The three of us met before lunch to discuss what we were going to do.
Cartman looked like he was going to bust forth with some great idea. He had changed a lot in the past several years. He had lost all his baby fat, and was lean and well muscled. His brunette hair was worn long, and slightly spiked in the front, and the girls usually described him as having puppy-dog eyes. He was a linebacker on the varsity football team, and seemed to be in constant competition over the cheerleaders with Stan, who was the quarterback. It was a well known fact that, besides the cheerleaders, almost every girl in the school would give anything to fuck him. Despite his difference in figure, his attitude had not changed much. He still hated Kyle, was still obsessed with money, and was very reliable when it came to devious plans and the complete manipulation of another person, or just a witty half ass come-back to shoot some loser down. "I know what we can do," he said impatiently as I sidled over and leaned against the lockers, lighting a cigarette casually.
"You really shouldn't be smoking that shit dude," Kyle said, giving me a disgusted look as I exhaled some of the smoke, "It's really gonna kill you some day," he added as an after thought, his emerald green eyes scanning over me disapprovingly. Kyle had changed too. He was only a little shorter than me, and thin as a rail. His despised red Jew-fro from when we were kids had been replaced by a straighter, more spiked look. Unlike Cartman and Stan, he fell more into the category of 'nerd', and wasn't nearly as popular with the ladies, plus his lingering anger management issues usually drove off most prospective girls. That and his nagging habit of telling people what they should and shouldn't do. I stared at him blankly as he took the offending cigarette from me and held it out in front of me to see it.
"Dude," I said softly, "out of all the years I have known you, and all the 1228 times that I have died, you can not possibly believe for a moment that I really am worried about something like the possibility of dying." Me, I had changed too. I no longer tried to hide myself in my parka, in fact, I haven't even looked at the thing for a while now. It's too small anyway, and the black and orange hoodie I have now seems to suit me much better anyway. I grew up tall and thin, and of the four of us, I was the tallest (and thinnest, due to perpetual malnutrition and hyperactive metabolism). Admittedly, most people referred to me as being the biggest pervert in South Park, and maybe I am. There's nothing wrong with liking girls a lot. Aside from the smoking and being very, very attracted to the nude female form, I wasn't anything bad, or anything special. I shrug slightly, staring back at my friends. Kyle tosses the cigarette away, and we both look over at Cartman.
Cartman, feeling it is finally his time to talk grins deviously and starts, "well, you guys know how bummed Stan's been since that whole Wendy-dumps-Stan-cause-she's-a-fuckin'-hoe-bee-yatch-and-starts-throwin'-herself-at-random-guys thing?" he looked at us expectantly, and I nod in turn with Kyle. "Let's take him to the fuckin' strip club, that one on the edge of town you work at Kenny! That would cheer him up and get him to start actin' like his old hippie self again."
I realized after about half a minute that I was just staring at Cartman, dumbfounded. I blinked and shook my head, "What the hell Cartman?"
"No dude, it will be schweet, sheriouslay," he insisted.
"Fuck that Cartman, there's no way in hell we can get Stan there, and no way they would let us in. you gotta be 21," Kyle snapped.
"Kenny could get us in," Cartman said, and both of them looked at me. The both knew that I had been working at that particular strip club for a few months now, and I knew through listening to some of their conversations they were both jealous and curious to see what I got to see.
I look back and forth between the both of them, "I don't know Cartman, it's no. ."
"But Kennayee," he whined, dragging out my name for emphasis on what he was saying, "we gotta go for the sake of Stannn."
Kyle covered his face with his hand and let out a groan, "you just want to go to see naked women," he mumbled.
"Ok," I said, "I'll get us in."
"Hooray."
"Ah, Jesus."
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That night was quiet enough. I was busying myself with drafting up a simple enough plan to get us into the strip club the next night in which we would be allowed to see the show, get alcohol, and not have to worry about our parents. It was simple really. I designed up some rather authentic looking id cards for my friends, knowing the fake id I currently had was good enough, and determined that if we wanted to avoid any suspicious parents, all we had to do was say we were coming back to my place after taking Stan out for his birthday. It wouldn't be totally lying, and a plus was that the phone had just recently been turned off. The only parents I really needed to worry about was Stan's, who probably wouldn't even notice, and Kyle's. His mom is a bitch, and such a challenge to con. By the time 3:30am had arrived, I had finished with the id cards, just in time for the power to go out. "Damnit!" I mutter and pick up the flashlight I keep faithfully on my desk. I look over the cards, decide they look good enough, and then climb into bed, not bothering to change my clothes. With the electricity out, the next few hours before school were going to get cold. "They musta forgot about the fuckin' electric bill again. ."
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By the time morning arrived, I felt like I was half frozen. I was awakened by the sound of my mom and dad getting into a fight, arguing about money, or rather lack there of, and the fact that nothing worked. I also heard mom say something about the waffles melting. Might as well go brave the storm, I thought to myself and reluctantly pulled the worn blanket away from my body, and got out of bed. The bare floor was cold on my feet as I went to the bathroom. Unfortunately, it seemed the water was off again to, so I had to ignore the fact that I was not the first person to have used the bathroom that morning, and the whole house smelled like shit. I peeked in the broken mirror on the way out of the bathroom and took a moment to brush down my unruly blonde hair. It was long enough now to brush my shoulders, and nearly covered my pale blue eyes. I let out a sigh, noticing how pale I looked, and frowned at myself before leaving the room, I'm not going to die today, or get sick damnit.
I quickly made my way out of the house, going though my natural routine of dodging various flying objects, as well as ones laying on the ground. Mom was kicking dad's ass again, and it was a surprise no one had called the cops about the disturbances. Officer Barbrady probably wouldn't come out if anyone did though. "You sorry sonuvabitch," mom yelled, and I dodged to my left to avoid a well tossed bottle of beer, one that still had some of the alcohol in it. The bottle shattered on impact and I looked back at them, "Oh, hi Kenny. Behave at school today. Damnit Stuart, get yer worthless ass back here!"
I left the house and crossed the tracks into the good part of town and walked to the bus stop. It was the same bus stop as had always been when I was a kid, though I had to get out to it almost an hour earlier that when I was in elementary school. Stan, Kyle and Cartman were already at the stop. Cartman looked up at me, anxiety practically rolling off of him, probably because I didn't tell him my plan yet. Kyle didn't look at me, but muttered a 'oh hey Kenny,' and kept staring off into space.
There was one part of the plan that I had told Cartman and Kyle, and that was that we were not going to mention anything birthday related to Stan until we went out to dinner later. Stan was looking down the line, and by the expression on his face, I could tell that in fact no one had said anything to him yet. "Hi you guys," I said simply and took my place in line. Stan was almost the same height as Cartman, but didn't have as much muscle mass to him. He wore his ebony hair almost as unruly as mine, but much shorter.. his midnight blue eyes were still scanning down the line, and that look of disappointment was really starting to get to me.
Pretty soon the bus arrived, and carted our sorry asses to school. It wasn't all that much different from the elementary school, just a little bit bigger. Most of the same old crowd frequented there, and several people I used to go to school wither were in the majority of my classes, including Stan and Cartman. Kyle was one of the few who made it into some of the more advanced classes, along with Wendy. The day seemed to drag horribly, and I found myself continually looking up at the clock, as if expecting that by looking at it, it will tell me something new and different, or time would magically go faster. No such luck. By the time lunch rolled around, I was bored tired, and had a queasy feeling in my stomach.
I wasn't paying much attention when I was walking to the lunchroom, and didn't realize Cartman had come up behind me until he grabbed me by the shoulders to get my attention. I tried to whirl around and hit Cartman, but he held me fast.
"Whoa, chill dude," Kyle said, as I calmed down. I had always had a reputation of getting into unnecessary fights, probably because I was so jumpy and lashed out too easily. Luckily for Cartman, he is stronger than me, and one of the few guys who could keep me from doing much anyway.
"What's up?" I asked when Cartman let me go.
"We just wanna know what the plan is for tonight," Kyle said. "Neither one of us has said anything to Stan yet. Do you have everything set?"
"Ey, he better have everything set!" Cartman added in.
"Everything is cool guys. I stayed up 'til almost 4 this morning making sure everything will run smoothly tonight. And for a bonus, today is Thursday, which means Berny won't be there, so we probably won't even have to show id," I said, while producing the fake id's, "though just in case, of course. Oh, and just tell your parents that we're taking Stan out for his birthday, and going back to my place afterwards. ."
"Fuck that shit, I don't wanna go to yer house Kenny"
"We don't have to go to his place dumb ass." Kyle retorted.
"I don't really wanna go back to my place right now. All the utilities are off again, and it smells like something died. But guess what, the phones are off too, which means no calls to check up."
"Schweet"
"Now, can we get some lunch. I feel like I'm gonna pass out," I mutter, fighting off the dizziness. Lunch was really the only time of day I got a chance to eat any real food.
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The rest of the day dragged. We had decided that we were going to go home like usual, and meet up again around 5 to go get dinner, and start the birthday celebration. That would give us enough time to get something to eat, anywhere Stan could possible want to go, hang out for a while, then head to the strip club after it got dark, which was never very late during October in South Park.
Kyle had volunteered to get Stan for dinner, and Cartman and I would wait at the bus stop for them before heading off. By the time the two of them showed up it was 5:13pm on my watch, and Cartman had been griping the past 20 some minutes before. I noticed Stan give Kyle a stupid look, then turned the same look to Cartman and me.
"So are you ready for your birthday fun to begin Stan?" I asked
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This looks like a good place to stop for now. Part 2 will be up soon. Hope you enjoyed so far