Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.
Chapter 1
In junior year, Kenny dropped out of school, landed a job at Tweek Bros., moved out of his parents' house, with his younger sister, Karen, and into their own apartment. An interview wasn't even required, since his parents supplied Tweek's with everything from weed to meth. Well, the Tweaks now bought their weed from Randy Marsh's farm, but the McCormicks still provided them with every harder substance. Anyway, life as a barista wasn't particularly laborious. Kenny's daily activities involved playing his ancient PSP, or doodling weird sex positions on the napkins, until a costumer would stop in for a cup of poorly brewed coffee, or it was time to sweep and mop the floors. He worked on weekdays, from nine a.m. until five p.m., and would spend the last couple hours of the shift with Tweek, once school let out at two-thirty. Tweek's boyfriend, Craig, usually sat on the opposite side of the counter, twirling himself around on a creaky bar stool. After they'd close, Kenny would sometimes follow the couple out of the café, into the Tweak's house, and upstairs, into Tweek's messy bedroom, where they'd smoke a few bowls, before Kenny would decide to return to he and Karen's shitty apartment. It was smelly, cramped, and exposed to noise pollution, but still better than their parents' house. Karen managed to keep the place decently clean, since Kenny was a lazy fuck, who treated it like a giant trash can; littering the floor with empty beer cans and pizza boxes. It was no surprise, when he returned from work, that Wednesday, the previous nights' mess had already been taken care of. Karen was slumped over at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of Easy Mac, while she finished her geometry homework, but looked up, when Kenny walked through the door. "Hey, dude," she tucked her sandy brown hair behind her ear, so that it was out of her eyes, "how was work?"
"Same as always." Kenny shrugged, pulling up a chair, and kicking off his ratty shoes. "This one guy said his name was Dick, so I drew a dick on his Styrofoam cup, instead of writing his name. He flipped shit, so Tweek gave him back his money."
"That's what you call 'same as always?'" Karen quirked an eyebrow at him.
"Yep."
"Why are you home so late?"
"Chilled with Craig and Tweek for a while."
"You guys had a threesum, didn't you?"
"Wha—?" Kenny gaped momentarily at Karen, before scrunching up his nose. "Ugh, sick, dude! You're a perv."
"You're one to talk." She rolled her eyes, pushing herself away from the table, and positioning herself in front of the sink, where she immediately washed the Tupperware container, before the cheese had time to solidify and stain.
"Did you finish your homework?"
"Pretty much. I still have to finish an essay, but it's not due 'til Friday."
"Wanna watch a movie?" They didn't have a TV, since they couldn't afford cable, but they at least had a portable DVD player, as well as a stack of barely watched DVDs.
"Only if it's not another chick flick." Kenny seemed to have a weird affinity for chick flicks.
"Fine, but no scary movies, either." Karen loved scary movies, but they admittedly plagued her with nightmares.
"Let's just watch Ghibli." When in doubt, they always watched Ghibli.
Thursday seemed to pass more slowly than usual, so Kenny was relieved when three o'clock finally rolled around, since it was that much closer to five, and the next two hours would pass more quickly with company. The only costumers that currently occupied the café, happened to be the goth kids, who each were already on their third cups of black coffee, and halfway through a shared pack of cigarettes. They weren't legally allowed to smoke inside the premise, but the Tweaks were hardly concerned with legality, and weren't presently there, anyway.
"Hey, can we get a refill?" Pete's question was drowned out by the sound of the twitchy kid's shrieks, and the pervy dude's laughter, as the latter sprayed the former with the detachable faucet. "Ehem!" He attempted to speak more loudly over them. "Can—I—get—a—refill?!"
"Agh! Craig, help!" Tweek pleaded, as he protectively held up his hands. His eyes were closed, so he couldn't see that Craig, nonchalantly sipping a cappuccino, was too busy observing the humorous scene.
Michael sighed. "Wanna go to Benny's?"
"No way, we can't smoke at Benny's. Why drink coffee, if you can't even smoke?" For emphasis, Henrietta—using her fancy cigarette holder—brought her cigarette to her black lips.
"Go flash Kenny your tits," Firkle said sardonically to Henrietta, "that'll get his attention." She wordlessly flipped him off.
"Hey, douchebags!" Pete turned away from them, and toward the rowdy trio, whose attention he finally had. "Can we get a freakin' refill, or what?"
"Are you serious?" Kenny ceased spraying Tweek, who was now thoroughly drenched. "Why don't you drink coffee at one of your own houses?"
"'Cause our lame parents wouldn't let us smoke," Henrietta pouted.
"Yeah, real lame," Kenny agreed sarcastically, with a roll of his eyes. It was partly due to his own parents' nonchalance, that he'd been addicted to nicotine, and still had to experience withdrawals, since he'd quit for the sake of being able to afford rent.
"Hey, why haven't you been in school?" Michael asked with sudden curiosity.
"Dropped out," Kenny said simply, as he proceeded to brew a new pot of coffee.
"Why?"
"Been workin' here, all day."
"Really?" Michael had figured Kenny worked only after school hours, like Tweek, who surely hadn't been absent from school. "School sucks, but why quit, just to work at this shitty place?" Michael averted his eyes toward the twitchy blonde, whose eyebrows had furrowed. "No offense, Tweek."
"Moved out of my house." Kenny approached the goth's table, carrying the pot of coffee, which he poured into each of their cups. "If you want more, you can make it yourselves."
"No, they can't!" Tweek quickly corrected him, though his words were directed more toward the goths.