A/N:

This is too late, again - my bad. I also had to split it again, so there will be a part 3.


"Tweek. Calm down."

"Calm down?!" Tweek stares at Kenny, green eyes wider than possibly ever before, as if he's just been asked to cure cancer with a porcupine and a piece of string. "How am I supposed to calm down?!"

His panicked shout reverberates off the walls of the nearly empty second-floor bathroom, and he and Kenny simultaneously wince at the sound. Kenny recovers first; he pushes himself off of the wall he's been leaning on while Tweek has been having his fourth meltdown of the morning and steps over to put both hands firmly on Tweek's shaking shoulders.

"Okay, well first of all, breathe," he says. "Freaking out isn't going to accomplish anything or get the list back, so you have to chill out, dude."

"But-" Tweek tries to breathe and speak at the same time and ends up dissolving into a coughing fit. His eyes watering, he hears the tiny, pathetic sounding squeak that comes out of his mouth, and thinks to himself that this is it, this is how he dies. He's going to suffocate to death in the upstairs boys' bathroom of the high school.

"Jesus Christ," Kenny mutters, leaning down to pick up Tweek's thermos of coffee from the floor. He unscrews the lid and pushes the thermos into Tweek's shaking hands. "Here, take a drink, and breathe, so we can talk."

Tweek takes the deepest breath he can manage, holds it just long enough that he feels he can drink something without choking, and takes a sip. It's hot, but not so hot that it scalds his throat on the way down. He inhales again, able to take in a deeper lungful of air this time, and follows that up with another sip. After a couple more repetitions of this pattern, he holds out the thermos to Kenny, who takes it back to put the lid back on and sets the container back down on the floor beside Tweek's backpack.

"You all right?" Kenny asks, the first warning bell choosing that moment to ring loudly over the intercom and almost drowning out his words.

"No!" Tweek is still shaking like crazy. "I'm not all right, Kenny, how can I be all right?!" He tugs on the bottom of Craig's hoodie before shoving both his hands into the pockets; his left hand closes around the soft fabric of Craig's hat and for just a second he's a little grateful that the chaos they'd walked into this morning had left him with no opportunity to go to his locker. But just as quickly, that gratitude is replaced again by anxiety and panic – all he wants to do right now is go make sure Craig is doing okay, but he's too terrified to leave the bathroom.

As soon as they'd left the nurse's office, after Token and Kenny had practically dragged Craig there, Tweek had known something was wrong. He'd never been a stranger to hushed whispers and sidelong glances; he knew he was a weirdo and a freak, and things like that just came with the territory. But this had been different, and it wasn't until he'd caught a few words of what Millie Larson and Annie Knitts were hissing at each other in the hallway that he'd known why.

"...the list, remember…?"

"...said Stan burned it after the…"

"...years, why would Craig…?"

"...know, but Cartman was showing…"

"...ask him to the dance now?"

They weren't whispering about him, they were whispering about Craig – and the...oh, no.

The second Tweek had heard the word list, his stomach had sunk so quickly his knees buckled. He dropped his thermos of coffee to frantically dig in his pockets, and realized with horror that they were devoid of paper. His body jerked so hard he would have faceplanted right onto the hallway floor if Kenny hadn't managed to catch him in time. The list. The list that had been in Craig's hoodie pocket, the list that Tweek was positive he hadn't been supposed to see, was gone.

He strained to hear the passing whispers as the girls started walking away, hoping he'd heard wrong at first and that they hadn't said anything about Cartman. Losing the list was one thing, losing the list and having it end up in the hands of the worst person imaginable was on a whole other level. But just before the girls turned the corner, Millie said one last thing, and when her voice drifted down the hall and into Tweek's ears, his heart stopped for what felt like a good ten seconds.

"Cartman's really doing Craig a favor, making it public like this."

"You okay, Tweek?" Clyde had reached down to grab the thermos before it rolled away. He handed it back to Tweek, who accepted it with a rapid series of twitches.

"I wouldn't worry about Craig," Token had added, completely misinterpreting Tweek's panic. "He didn't get a lot of sleep last night; I think he just needs some rest."

How had neither of them heard the whispers?! Tweek had wondered, and he'd desperately wanted to shout something along the lines of, "But he's going to hate me when he wakes up!" He actually had his mouth halfway open, the words just starting to form on his lips, before he realized that he couldn't say anything, because Clyde and Token didn't know. Forget the fact that they would probably know as soon as they walked into class, oh God, the thought of that made Tweek almost drop his thermos again.

"Yeah," Kenny had echoed, but Tweek had heard just enough of a trace of doubt in his tone to think that maybe, maybe-

He'd twisted his head around to get a better look at him, and when he'd caught Kenny's eye, and seen the look on his face, he knew. Kenny had heard it too. Tweek wasn't sure if that made it better or worse; if it had just been him, maybe he could have talked himself out of it, told himself that he was just hearing things, that the list was actually still in his pocket and he'd just missed it, or maybe in his backpack and he'd just misremembered where he'd put it.

The fact that Kenny had picked up on the whispers too, though, took all those maybes and threw them right out the window. It made sense, Tweek supposed, that Kenny was tuned in to the barely audible underground conversations that took place in the high school hallways. He'd probably grown up hearing a lot of them directed his way just like Tweek had, just for different reasons.

"Oh, shit," Kenny had snapped his fingers suddenly, startling Tweek out of his thoughts. "I gotta go to my locker." He'd snagged Tweek's arm, tugging him along with him as he started to walk down the hall in the opposite direction of their homeroom. "Come with me, Tweeky?"

Tweek had barely had the time to squeak out an, "Oh- sure," before Kenny was practically dragging him down the hall. He saw Token and Clyde look at each other, then start heading the other way, Clyde glancing over his shoulder a couple of times.

And then Kenny was pulling Tweek through the crowds of sleepy teenagers loitering in the halls, refusing to set foot in class until the bell rang. Muttering something to himself that Tweek couldn't quite make out, Kenny navigated the two of them down the hallway, across the main lobby, and up the stairs to the second-floor bathroom.

Tweek had wrinkled his nose at the scent of dirt and...something else, that vaguely reminded him of when he and Craig used to go fishing with Craig's dad when they were kids. Every weekend in the summertime, they'd go out to the lake, where Craig's dad would rent a campsite, or, if they were really lucky, a little cabin. Sometimes Clyde, or Token, or both would come along, but Token usually had a big family vacation to somewhere exotic he had to go on, and Clyde was often signed up for various sports camps, so generally it was just Tweek, Craig, and Mr. Tucker.

Tweek liked that it was just the two of them out of their newly formed group of friends; it was way less pressure on him to be around only one person at a time, especially out in the wilderness like that when he was already more anxious than usual. At night they'd sit around a little campfire roasting hot dogs, accidentally burning Jiffy-Pop popcorn, and seeing how many times they could light a marshmallow on fire before it burned right off the stick and landed in a gooey mess in the dirt.

The first time they'd gone out on the lake to fish, and Tweek had tried to bait his hook, it had been a disaster. He hadn't realized that they were going to be using live bait, and when he'd been presented with the bucket of wriggling worms, he'd been so freaked out by the thought of touching one that he'd shrieked, tried to scramble backwards, and almost knocked all three of them out of their boat.

Craig's dad hadn't been all that amused by it, but Craig had laughed for at least five minutes, kneeling on the floor of the boat, shoulders shaking, reassuring Tweek that he wasn't laughing at him, but at the situation. Tweek had been so surprised to see Craig laugh uncontrollably that way that he hadn't even remembered to worry about anything like that, he'd just sat there in the boat watching him – that was the first time Tweek had truly believed that this other kid, killing himself laughing in front of him right now, was really his friend.

When Craig had finally managed to get a hold of himself, he'd reached over and grabbed Tweek's fishing pole right out of his hand, baiting the hook and passing it back to him before Tweek could even ask what he was doing. He'd thrown a worm onto his own hook right after, and then walked Tweek through the process of casting his line into the water. That day, on that trip, the only time Tweek had caught anything was with that particular worm. To this day, he still isn't sure who'd cheered louder when he'd reeled in the tiny rainbow trout all on his own, himself or Craig.

And now Craig was going to hate him.

That thought had shaken him out of the memory; and, finally having a second to process what exactly was happening, Tweek had gone into full-blown panic mode.

"Okay, listen," Kenny is saying now. Tweek blinks furiously, trying his hardest to focus on the only other person he can talk to about what is happening right now. "This is bad, but you have to pull yourself together. We can hide out here for today, but–"

"I can't!" Tweek interrupts, one hand clutching onto Craig's hat in his pocket and the other grabbing wildly at his hair. "I can't skip! I'll get detention! I have to work after school!" His voice rises with each protest, getting shriller and shriller as he goes on.

"Tweek," Kenny says, and there's that same serious tone he'd had the night before after climbing in through Tweek's window, the tone that makes it clear he means business. "No offense, but you're a mess right now. Look at yourself." He gestures to the mirror.

Tweek glances at his reflection for just a second before he winces. He really hadn't needed to look. He's well aware of what he looks like mid-freakout. "But-"

"But nothing." Kenny shakes his head. "I know we're not close friends, Tweek, but even I know you well enough to know that you're going to need more than two minutes to deal with this. Especially with everything else you're dealing with right now?" He says it like a question, like Tweek needs reminding of the fact that his mind was already overloaded with thoughts before this new horrific development. Kenny casts a pointed look to where Tweek's one hand is still holding on tightly to Craig's hat. "So why not take this opportunity to sit, chill, talk through your shit, and only go out there when you think you're in a place to handle it?"

Tweek twitches, narrowly missing hitting his elbow on the edge of the nearest sink. "Because! Weren't you listening!? I'll get in trouble!"

"All right." Kenny calmly – how can he be so calm?! – pulls out his cell phone and starts typing something on it. "Give me a second."

"What are you doing?!"

"I'm going to call the office," Kenny says, frowning down at his phone as he scrolls through the high school's website. "I'll tell them you're sick and you're not going to be here today."

"You can't do that! They'll never listen to you!" Tweek doesn't understand what Kenny is thinking.

"No," Kenny agrees, with a smile as he finds the school's phone number and starts the call. "But they'll listen to-" Tweek's eyes widen as Kenny's voice transitions into such a flawless impersonation of Mr. Tweak's voice that it legitimately sounds like Tweek's dad is right there in the room with them. "-Richard Tweak, owner of Tweek Bros. Coffee."

Stunned into silence, Tweek can only listen as Kenny clears his throat and speaks into the phone. "Hello, this is Richard Tweak, Tweek's father?" He winks at Tweek and gives him a thumbs up. "I'm afraid Tweek won't be in school today, he's feeling a bit under the weather. Probably from all that coffee my wife and I force him to drink like the crazy people we are." He laughs, and Jesus Christ, somehow he can even laugh just like Tweek's dad. "No, no, just a little joke, of course, yes. All right, thank you very much. Come by the shop sometime and I'll throw you a freebie. Perfect. Bye now."

The second Kenny hangs up, Tweek finds his voice again. "What the hell was that?"

Kenny just shrugs, leaning back against the wall opposite the stalls and sliding down to sit on the floor. "I do impressions sometimes."

Tweek twitches his way over to sit down on the floor beside Kenny. He pulls Craig's hat out from his pocket and holds it in his lap, crushing it between his fingers. "When did you start being able to do that?"

"Huh." Kenny tilts his head and taps a finger against his chin thoughtfully. "I think it was after this one time in ninth grade, I was with Kyle at that Shakespeare festival where that one actor got arrested for having real weapons, do you remember that?" When Tweek shakes his head, Kenny sighs. "Yeah, we were there when the cops were chasing him through the park, and he was throwing all these daggers around and one of them got me right here-" He points to the left side of his neck, just above his collarbone. "-see that scar?"

Tweek awkwardly leans a little closer to see better, just able to make out the thin scar trailing along Kenny's skin. "Yeah- wait, why don't you have any other-" He stops, not wanting to say the words, unsure if that's an offensive thing to even be asking in the first place.

"That's the thing," Kenny pulls one leg up to clasp his hands around his knee. "That's the only time I've ever kept a scar. Every other time I've died, I've come back perfectly fine, like nothing ever happened. But this one-" He points to his neck again. "-has always come along with me for the ride. Who knows why. But ever since it happened, I've been able to sound like anyone, with enough practice." He cocks his head. "Clyde knows I can do it, he never told you?"

"No," Tweek shakes his head, then takes a second to actually try to think about it. "At least, I don't think he did."

"I figured he would have. I mean, I asked him not to, but Jesus, that guy can't keep a secret to save his life." Kenny smiles, rolling his eyes at the same time. "Not that I would have minded if he told you guys. It's more I didn't want Cartman and them finding out and trying to use it to get money or something. I'm not really into exploiting myself like that anymore. It's exhausting."

"Who else can you do?" Tweek knows he should stop staring at the scar, but he's finding this new information about Kenny completely fascinating and a welcome distraction from his life at the moment. He's still playing with Craig's hat in his lap, but his twitching has slowed considerably and he's feeling just a little less panicked about the situation going on outside this bathroom.

Kenny laughs. "Anyone I want, Tweeky," he says, with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows, before answering the question more seriously. "I used to mess around with it more often a couple of years ago when it was still new. It's not like I had anything else to do with my time once Kyle and I broke up, you know?"

"I'm sorry-" Tweek starts to say, but Kenny waves him off.

"Dude, you've got to stop apologizing for things that aren't your fault. Kyle and I obviously weren't meant to be together. We only dated for, what, a year and a half?" Kenny writes in the air with his finger, squinting at his invisible math in concentration. "Yeah, something like that. And he's been with Christophe for longer than that by now, and they're happy, so good for him."

"How do you do that?" Tweek asks, his mouth working before his brain.

"Do what?"

Tweek looks down at Craig's hat before answering, running his hand over the yellow puffball before twisting one of the strings around his thumb. Keeping his eyes on the blue fabric, he elaborates, "How do you always manage to stay so positive even when bad things happen to you?"

"Practice," Kenny answers. "Come on, Tweeky, you have to know that I haven't exactly led a charmed life."

"I guess," Tweek mumbles, thinking about all the things he knows about Kenny McCormick – which he's just now realizing isn't very much. Kenny dies a lot, he's from the other side of the tracks both literally and figuratively, Kyle cheated on him, he's incredibly social and a huge flirt...and that's about it. He looks up, and opens his mouth, not even sure what he's going to say, because he feels like he should apologize for not taking the time to get to know Kenny better over the years, but he's not really sure how you even go about apologizing for something like that? It doesn't matter anyway though, because before he can say anything Kenny's talking again.

"The dying probably has something to do with it too," he's saying, looking up at the bathroom's ceiling at the flickering lights. "I've lived a lot of lifetimes, and I actually know how it feels to die with regrets, or holding onto feelings you shouldn't be holding onto, like anger." He looks at Tweek, making eye contact, and adds, "That's why I'm so goddamn determined to get you and Tucker together."

Tweek immediately feels himself blush, his cheeks and neck heating up to what he feels should be an impossible temperature. "But he's going to hate-"

"No," Kenny interrupts with a shake of his head. He runs a hand through his hair and repeats, firmly, "No, Tweeky, he's not."

"But the list! And Cartman!" Tweek can feel the panic bubbling up inside him again.

"Fuck Cartman." Kenny rolls his eyes again. "The only reason he's going to make a huge deal out of the thing is because he can't get over anything that proves that he's an idiot. But I sincerely doubt anyone is going to actually care all that much about it. Stan might, but that's only because Wendy is going to be pissed as fuck he lied to her, but serves him right."

"Aren't you friends?" Tweek absently pulls Craig's hat onto his head, playing with the strings as they dangle on either side of his head. He looks down at himself and smiles for a second, realizing that he's got all of Craig's signature clothing on.

"Eh." Kenny holds one hand flat in the air and tilts it up and down slightly. "I think by this point we're more acquaintances than anything else. We haven't actually hung out together outside of school in months. None of us have." His eyes dim a little bit with just the barest hint of sadness. "Why do you think I jumped at the chance to work at your coffee shop?"

"Oh," is all Tweek can think of to say. How is it possible he's known Kenny for this long and still barely known anything about him? He's popped up at enough Saturday night movie nights that Tweek feels like he should know him better than this; maybe not enough to write his biography or anything, but he should still know something. Kenny had helped them all out with coming up with good ideas for list topics and what things to put on those lists and everything, back when that was the cool thing for them to do. He'd been such a constant cameo in their group hangouts that there were days Tweek seriously considered just thinking of him as an official member. "I'm-"

"Don't you even." Kenny flashes him a look of warning. "People grow apart, Tweek. Sometimes you and the people you're closest to just drift apart for whatever reason. It sucks, yeah, of course it does, but that's life for you. Most relationships just aren't meant to last forever." He reaches over and tugs on one of the strings of Craig's hat. "Except you and Tucker. You guys are gonna make it, if either of you ever get up the nerve to make a move."

"I thought that's why I was flirting with you?" Tweek blushes again. What he wants to say is that he still thinks Kenny is wrong, that Craig is going to leave the nurse's office today, find out that Tweek ruined his life, and never speak to him again; but somehow he doesn't think that Kenny's going to listen to him if he does.

"Yeah," Kenny muses. "That was the original plan. But now, I don't know, maybe we need to come up with something else." There's a glimmer in his eyes and he says, "Something that'll hit him a little harder..."

Tweek isn't sure he likes where this is going; he swallows nervously, picks up his thermos just so he can be doing something with his hands, and asks, "Like what?"

"Did you buy a ticket to the Halloween dance yet?" When Tweek shakes his head, Kenny claps his hands together. "That's it! Tomorrow we'll go buy them together – that should get the rumors going."

"Rumors?" Tweek takes the lid off his thermos and gulps down a mouthful of coffee. After replacing the lid, he turns the thermos over in his hands, a faint smile on his lips as his eyes travel over the container. It's one of those 'create your own' kind of thermoses, that came with a removable insert between the inside and outside walls that you could design yourself. This one was covered with rough doodles of coffee mugs, stars, and planets.

Craig isn't the greatest artist, and when Tweek had opened the gift, he'd been quick to point that out, almost before Tweek had even registered what was in the box; but Tweek couldn't care less. The fact that Craig had even put that much effort into their Secret Santa at all had been more than enough for him, and he remembers wishing he'd gotten Craig instead of Token as his gift recipient so he could have gotten him something just as good. Craig deserves some kind of amazing gift, for so many reasons Tweek loses count every time he tries to list them; the fact that he's put up with Tweek for the last nine or so years and never getting sick of his anxious, paranoid nonsense is always close to the top of that list, though.

Tweek's eyes fall on his favorite little doodle, a coffee mug-shaped planet, with a Saturn-like ring around it. The top and sides of the planet are shaded blue with a circle of yellow right on top, and it's surrounded by small clusters of the letter x that Tweek knows are meant to be stars.

Maybe Kenny really is right. Maybe Craig isn't going to hate him. Maybe-

"Yep, rumors. As of right now, Tweeky, you're officially my boyfriend."

"What?" Tweek's grip on the thermos loosens and it falls into his lap. He jerks his head up, horrified for a split-second, and then he sees the huge grin on Kenny's face.

"Breathe," he advises Tweek again. "Obviously I don't mean for real, for real. Like I said last night, you're a real catch, but I've still got my eye on a certain brunette. Plus, things would never work out, what with you being head over heels for-" He clears his throat, his next words coming out in a perfect imitation of Craig's voice, "Craig fuckin' Tucker."

"Jesus!" Tweek blurts out, his eyes widening to nearly the size of the moon. "You can do Craig?" Face burning, he trips over his next words in his hurry to fix the question. "His voice- I mean- when did you be able to do that?"

"It's not hard." Kenny shrugs. "I just have to kinda make myself sound like I've had a cold for two weeks. I can do Clyde too. Your voice is harder, I've tried a few times but I can't quite get the pitch right."

"Oh." Tweek's words come out as a whisper, completely thrown off at hearing Craig's voice coming out of Kenny's mouth.

Kenny leans back against the wall and stretches both legs out in front of him. "Sorry," he says, guiltily. "I should have warned you before doing that. I was just trying to prove my point."

"It's okay." Tweek picks up his thermos again, but instead of drinking any coffee, he just nervously passes it from hand to hand. "I just wasn't expecting to hear- him, right now, when I'm hiding out in a bathroom." Because I wrecked his entire life.

Tweek lifts a hand up to tug on his hair, but his hand hits Craig's hat instead. He feels a sudden rush of regret about not staying in the nurse's office with him, to make sure he was okay. He has no idea what was even wrong with him this morning that had made him throw up onto the sidewalk, and it worries him more than he can properly put into words. Craig being unwell or upset in anyway had always given Tweek a very specific uncomfortable feeling, kind of like queasiness but with a side of...weightlessness, almost; when it hits, it feels like there is nothing keeping him grounded anymore and he is just going to drift up and away, right out into space and be lost forever.

Token had said Craig had gotten sick because he was probably just tired, because he hadn't slept the night before. Tweek wasn't sure he really believed that.

He hadn't slept at all either, after all, and he wasn't puking his guts out everywhere. And why hadn't Craig slept all night in the first place? That was so unlike him. He was always the first one to fall asleep whenever they slept over at Token's. Or even back when they would camp out and go fishing, Tweek would be awake for hours in their little kids' tent, listening to Craig's steady, even breathing, bits of mumbled sleep-talk mixed in, because he'd fallen asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. It was normal for Tweek to be awake until three or four in the morning, but Craig being up past one was almost unheard of.

"We don't have to pretend to be dating if you can't handle it," Kenny says, a little sheepish now, noticing Tweek's troubled expression. "I may have just realized that my methods might not be the best for you. I promise I really am trying to help you out."

Tweek taps his fingers anxiously against his thermos. "How-" His voice cracks and he clears his throat. "How would that work, exactly?"

"It would just be kind of like what we were already doing yesterday, just…more?" Kenny tucks a piece of his hair behind his ear. "We'd definitely have to make it look more convincing, too. Could you do that?" He holds up a hand as Tweek opens his mouth. "Don't agree to anything unless you really think you can."

"I don't know-" Tweek bites his lip and wraps his arms around himself, the soft inside of Craig's hoodie incredibly comforting against his skin as he trembles slightly. "If Craig- if he really likes me-"

"-which he does, but go on." Kenny motions for Tweek to continue.

"-then wouldn't that really hurt him?" Tweek pauses, his gaze once again locking onto the coffee mug planet doodle, and then he says, quietly, "I really don't want to hurt him, Kenny."

"I know you don't," Kenny says, like that's the most obvious thing ever. "I'm just not sure what other options we have right now, that's all. Cartman's freakout about the list is going to get a lot of attention, and I was just figuring we could counter that with pretending to date, and it would be like two really dramatic things crashing into each other and like-" He throws his hands up in the air, attempting to mime an explosion. "-it would make something finally happen." He sighs. "I mean, unless you want to go down to the nurse's office and tell him how you feel right now-"

Inhale the scent of coffee. Tweek takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. All he can see in his mind is Craig. Craig in third grade, the two of them out on the playground, not having any idea how to fight each other. Craig in fifth grade, baiting his fishing hook for him like it was no big deal. Craig in ninth grade, accidentally exploding a bag of flour all over himself when they'd been paired up together in Foods class on muffin day. Craig last Christmas, handing him the gift-wrapped box that contained one of the most special gifts Tweek had ever received. And Craig, this morning, hunched over on the ground, looking sick and miserable in a way that made Tweek want to just reach out, hug him, and never let him go.

Cool the coffee. He lets the breath out as slowly as he can. Each image of Craig lingering in his mind slowly fades away as the air leaves his lungs until finally, he's left with only the memory of what Craig had looked like, weaker and more helpless than Tweek had ever seen him before, when Kenny and Token had helped him into the school not twenty minutes earlier.

Somehow his brain gets the message to his legs faster than his mind, and Tweek stands up, his thermos falling to the floor with a loud clunk.

Kenny scrambles up off the floor to stand next to him, his bright blue eyes uncharacteristically wide with surprise. "Holy shit, Tweeky! Really?"

Suddenly nauseous, and not trusting himself to open his mouth, Tweek nods twice, his eyes focused on the bathroom door. One step at a time. He just has to make it to the door, then to the stairs, then to the first floor, then to the nurse's office. And then he can do what he should have done before, and sit right beside the little cot that Craig will be lying on, and he can wait for him to wake up. He'll give him back his hat – and maybe his hoodie, although if he's honest with himself, Tweek would really love to wear the hoodie forever – and then finally, finally, he would do what he should have done in the first place, and tell him, "Craig, I-"

He's just taken two unsteady steps towards the bathroom door when it swings open. The first thing Tweek sees is an almost comically large hand clutching a familiar, partially crumpled sheet of paper covered in pink writing.

And then he hears the voice of the last person he ever wants to hear on any given day, but especially on this day in particular.

"What the hell are you two doing in here?"


Reasons Why Stan Is An Asshole

1. Peru. That's it, that's the list.
2. He treats Wendy like shit. What the hell does she see in him?
3. Oh, and he owes Craig $100.
4. He got the last slice of pizza in the cafeteria that one time when Clyde was totally next in line!
5. He's so arrogant, he thinks he's so cool just because he has black hair and is the leader of a friend group.*
6. He's always trying to push his own self-righteous agenda onto other people like he knows everything so much better than anybody else.
*Shut the fuck up, Clyde.