Parklife
Stan's POV
Once again, me and Kyle find ourselves discussing a major decision topic...in bed...naked after one hell of a deserved night. And once more, we can't agree on the final decision. Even if I am cuddling up and leaning onto his bare chest, that still won't convince him to agree with me.
"Nuh-uh..."
"YEH-HUH – I think it works so much better than your decision Stan."
"It does not...I'm tellin' yer – Bisque and Burlywood Brown work so much better."
"How would you know huh?" He looks down at me and scruffs up my already scruffed-up enough black hair. "Look...think about it...once they're finally old enough to recognize colours, they'll go nuts over a lovely Peru Mocha Brown." He starts waving this digital colour chart screen like he's proud of his decision...a decision from way over 512 different shades of brown and cream."
"Oh yeh, they'll go nuts alright...nuts over how their bedroom looks like the inside of a friggin' nutshell...oh yeh...that'll make the room feel REALLY big and comfy won't it...big-hair-head." I chuckle.
He gives me a cheeky smile, chucks the screen onto a nearby bedside table and suddely, wrestles and clings me down onto the bed – climbing on top and staring down at me. "Listen MISTER, don't make me 'convince' you in this way, alright?"
"Oooooo, is that a threat...coz' I ain't giving up that easily."
"Alright fine..." I bet he's disappointed now – early morning love is something I'm never fond of no matter how much he tempts me. "How about we toss for it?"
"Oh God, not THIS time, Kyle...double-sided-tail coins don't count..." I see a little 'OH SNAP' look on his face as I lean over and pick up a loose nickel on my bedside table. "Heads...my choice...Tails...your choice."
"FINE..." He smiles as I throw the coin into the air. I'm not very good at throwing and catching coins in the same go...so I just let the coin drop onto the bed in-between where our legs are. As it lands softly on the top duve, we both bend forward to have a look. And as we finally see the top face, it's me who's smiling now. "I win! Bisque & Burlywood it is."
With that adorable little moody face he pulls, he grabs hold of me once more and throws me down into the depths of the cream-coloured matress. "Fine...but I'm not letting you go without a fight." Oh he wants a fight, huh! And then, this obviously leads us into battling once another to try and escape each other's grips. Kyle tries and keeps me pressed down on the matress just as I keep pushing him away and off the top of my body. A few minutes later, we're lying by each other's side – laughing and trying to regain our energy. One final big long kiss and then, that's enough, time to get up and get started. The sooner we get to the hardware store and buy some paint and decorating equipment, the better.
Confidence is a preference for the habitual voyeur of what is known as…(Parklife)
A morning suit can be avoided if you take a route straight through what is known as…(Parklife)
Kyle's POV
It only took us about an hour and a bit to pick up the paint and whatnot. Stan found it very interesting to watch the colour machine as it found which categry we wanted, picked the colours, dyed and mixed it in with the blank paint and then combined it all together – quite funny just watching Stan staring into the glass window of the machine like a little kid outisde a candy shop. Though I'm surprised at the kind of people you find in hard-ware and decoartion stores. I ain't being nasty or anything, but it's as if a CV for working in one of those kinds of places needs to include things such as that you're overweight, mean, big or just sumin like that. Heh, sounds like a perfect job for Cartman...well...if he weren't burning in hell forever and forever right about now.
John's got brewers droop he gets intimidated by the dirty pigeons they love a bit of it…(Parklife)
Who's that gut lord marching...you should cut down on your pork-life mate... get some exercise!
We decided that the spare-room at the far-end of the house was the room that was gunna be convertd into our boys' single room – it's big enough for both of them anyway. And as soon as me and Stan have finished moving all the furniture out of the room, covered all the flooring with old white cloth and we've placed all the paint-over paper on all walls, we'll be ready to paint.
Just as you would expect, we've gone to wearing probably the most scruffiest and possibly, oldest vest and trousers we could find in our own wardrobes...at least we'll know it hardly won't make a difference whether we get loads of paint spilled onto our clothes now or not. I don't know how this long will take though – it ain't no ordinary room...this place is huge...so it's bund to be a long job if we're doing things like decoarting and putting new carpet in as well as painting the walls. We WOULD hire people to do this job for us...but both Stan and I know it's the only way to pass time waiting during this difficult 7 day period. And if I know Stan well, he'd barely make one hour of waiting let alone 7 full days.
It isn't long before we're already underway – brushes in one hand and small roller cases of paint in the other. Who would have thought we'd be using our artistic skills for painting walls huh? I've got the upper regions where the wall meets the ceiling where as Stan's doing the bottom and making sure all the tight spots get a licking of paint too. We could just use rollers for this job...hell, we COULD just throw the friggin' paint onto the walls and get it over and done with...but, like I said, we both agree on the fact that this is the only way to pass the most time this week. God, if we get this entire job of decrating and filling up this room finished before the end of the week, looks like I'll need to do something with Stan to keep his mind off the end of the week and when that'll be.
All the people, so many people.
When they ALL go hand in hand,
Hand in hand through their…Parklife.
(Know what I mean?)
But we're having LOADS of fun as it is – accidently spilling drips of paint on one another and then receiving each other's revenge of another flicker of paint.
"Hey!" Stan shouts ffrom below as a tiny droplet of paint falls off my brush and down onto his old shoe. Obviously, I'm doing the top bits of the wall AND Im standing on the top step of these ladders so I can hardly twist and turn much.
"Sorry..." I smile from the corner of my face. "Didn't know you were down there." He knows I'm lying and I feel his brush whack across my leg. I look down and a big huge spot of paint's been applied to an old air of pants I'm wearing. I give him a joking annoyed look and he laughs back. "RIGHT, THAT'S IT..." I slide down the ladders and grab tight hold of my paintbrush just as he makes a tun for it anywhere in the room that's furthest away from me.
As I chase him around the room – flicking back and letting go of the brissels on thr brush, he looks back and tries to flick me back with paint. And it isn't long before we both trip on the thick white covers on the floor and land up on the ground by one another's side. And after such a childish little game of seeing who can paint the other person the most, it ends up with us two having a right goddam long kiss as we're lying and rolling around on the floor. Heh...times never change.
I get up when I want except on Wednesdays when I get rudely awakened by the dustmen…(Parklife)
I put my trousers on, have a cup of tea and I think about leaving the house…(Parklife)
Stan's POV
Me and Kyle certainly know how to have fun and then end up with us enduldging in one another for about another ten minutes before we're back on our feet and decorating again. A few hours and the odd radio programme that's supplying us with music, later, the painting of all the walls is finished. Thank God us two had a full day off – I couldn't imagine us doing this AND work all i the same days. But we've still got 5 and a bit days to lay the carpetting down and finally buy some furniture and whatnot for the room itself.
It's Monday night – about 9pm on a mild summer's evening. I don't know what's up with me and Kyle, but we just can't seem to agree on anything. Despite how much we're laughing about the fact that we're disagreeing on practically everything, this is probably one of THE most important decisions we have to decide on. But as you've already guessed, me and Kyle have completely different other ideas into what's right.
"NUH-UH!"
"YEH-HUH! I don't understand why you don't see that as a perfect decision."
"Kyle, how many times do I have to tell yer'...I'm not raising my boys..."
"OUR boys..."
"Right, right, OUR boys...I'm not raising...OUR...boys...as Jews, OK. You may be completely happy with it...but remember...I'm a Christian...besides...they won't get any lovely Christmas presents every year – that'd be pretty boring won't it?!"
"Are you saying Jewish holidays are boring?" He gives me a curious arched eyebrow look. "Lemme tell you STAN...you have no idea how fun such things as Hanukkah and Passover can be."
"Oh please...what's so fun about eating crackers, reading what certain foods represent from a book and lighting a few candles on that stand of yours every day huh?"
"Look who's talking Mister Cross-worshiper..." I've lost count of how many times me and Kyle tease one another with each other's ranting about one another's religion. "And are you saying painting & colouring eggs and unwrapping boxes that have been wrapped in 1970's style wrapping paper from under a ridiculous-looking tree...is better?" That makes me laugh. "You never know Stan...you might actually like being Jewish...if you know what I mean." There he goes with his convincing eye-brows rasied smile. NO WAY. "Not this time Kyle – you may have converted me to being wth you for the rest of our lives but HEY...my religion and faith stays as it is thank you very much."
"Awwww, DAM." He smiles. "It wouldn't be difficult y'know..." He looks down. "We'd just need to..."
I follow his line of sight and finally realise what he's looking at. OH GOD! I curl up onto the couch and cover my crotch with my hands. "No way! I ain't letting any clamp thingy come anywhere near my...well...y'know."
"Hey, I've had it done!"
"Yeh, when you were only a baby Kyle...not when you're friggin' 22 years old."
He laughs again. "I was only joking Stan, relax! But...it would be nice to raise our boys as Jewish."
"Oh please Kyle, NO WAY." This hasn't been the first time he's tried to 'convert' me over. But I'll never get tired of it.
I feed the pigeons I sometimes feed the sparrows too,
It gives me a sense of enormous well being (Parklife)
And then I'm happy for the rest of the day, safe in the knowledge
There will always be a bit of my heart devoted to it…
"Oh God, what are you two moaning about now?" Kenny says as he walks back into the living room with a tray and three large cups of ice cold orange juice. Just as you would expect, we asked Kenny to come over tonight to talk to us and give us some last-minute advice on this whole new thing in life. But it looks as if we'll need a lot more advice from him tonight. "I would have thought you'd agreed on religions for these boys long before this point. You sure do love leaving it to last minute huh?"
"Kenny, we can't decide on what religion to raise our boys as. I say that they should be Christians...but obviously, Kyle says they'd be better off Jewish just like him."
Kenny rolls his eyes and lays back on the other couch nearby – picking up HIS glass of juice. "God, you two are idiots. It's simple...let's do a little third grade maths here...what's two boys...fivided by...two religions huh?"
We both feel pretty embarrassed that it's taking us quite a while to work out what Kenny's trying to say. But then, it hits us both and he smiles – realising the answer has finally come. "Ahhh, yer' got it now...you each raise one - one Christian...one Jew...both happy boys who get along."
"Well then, that leaves us with one final problem..."
"Oh Christ!" Kenny laughs. "You and your dilemmas." He moves over to another glass. "Like I always say...if you're thirsty...TAKE A DRINK." And without warning, he splashes one of the glasses of orange juice on Kyle."
"HEY!" Kyle sits with his arms stretched and his red 'fro dripping with juice now. Kenny rolls on the floor laughing and looks back up at us two. "Hey, it's not as if you two aren't used to getting your own shares of juice already, ha ha HA!"
All the people, so many people.
When they ALL go hand in hand,
Hand in hand through their…Parklife.
Well...I guess revenge can be sweet SOMETIMES. So as soon as me and Kyle finish looking at one another with sinister smiles, Kyle launches at Kenny and pins him down on the ground.
"Hey hey HEY! What the hell are you doing?" Kenny shouts –trying to break free from Kyle's grasp. But I know more than anybody else, that no one can break free from Kyle...especially me. "LET ME GO, goddam it."
"Oh you think you're getting away with splashing me with orange juice do you?"
"Don't you DARE?" Obviosly, he thinks Kyle's gunna do something else. But I've already made my way to the kitchen and I'm pouring another glass of ice cold water as well as filling up with freezer ice – minus ten degrees...Kenny's certainly gunna get it. I walk back into the living room to see Kyle's still got Kenny pinned down.
"You're lucky he hasn't already tried to gayify you dude." I call to Kenny just as he kneel down besides Kyle.
"No..." Kenny laughs. "Don't you friggin' dare..."
"Oh alright...I DARE THEN..." With no free hands, Kenny can't stop me from lifting his shirt up and I carefully, painfully & slowly pour the freezing arctic temperature water onto his chest and he yells out in freezing pain. "GODDAM, THAT'S COLD!" Good thing this is really solid ice – if Kenny's laughing and yelling is anything to go by, it must be cold.
Kyle's POV
Well...that was fun. Twenty minutes later, us three are back to our 'normal' ways and we're discussing the major problem me and Stan have as far as our boys are concerned.
"That is a difficult thing to solve guys..." Kenny says in his serious voice for a change. "But like I said, don't be giving them any embarrassing flower-related names like most eebrities do with their new-born kids."
"Don't worry about that Kenny..." Stan says. "It's just a matter of finding the right names that's causing us a problem."
"Well...have you guys got a certain 'range' of names you've wittled down to?"
"Mmmmmm, kinda...nothing posh...but nothing boring – just a pair of nice and friendly...boyish names."
"But not Stan & Kyle?" He winks.
"NO WAY – that'll make us both seniors...and we're only 22."
"Fair enough...so...ever thought about names that 'sound' like YOUR names."
"What do you mean?"
"Oh come on, can't you figure it out." He rolls his eyes. "Names that rhyme with yours. I mean, your names...they're not posh, they're not boring...THEY'RE very boyish names. So...just find a name that rhymes...and VOILA...if you're happy with it."
"OK, let's see..." Stan leans back on the couch and look back. "Aan...Ban...Can...Dan...hey, DAN...that's such a nice name."
"How about Daniel rather than just Dan...Daniel sounds so much nicer and...sweeter than just...'Dan'." I say and Stan nods.
"OK...so that's Stan's son sorted...and yours Kyle?" Kenny takes another sip of his juice and awaits for me to go through the alphabet.
"Right then...Ayle...Bile...Cile...Dile...Eile...File...Gile...Hile...Iile...Jile...Kile...Lile...Mile...Nile..."
"Wait, HOLD ON, what was that last one?"
"Mile?"
"Yeh...MILES."
"MILES?! Oh come on, Stan – at least your son's name is 'normal'."
"And Miles isn't normal? It's perfect...much better sounding that Daniel is. Listen...DANIEL Marsh-Broflovski...and MILES Marsh-Broflovski...doesn't that sound good?"
It's got nothing to do with yer' Vorsprung Durch Technic you know.
And it's not about you joggers when you go 'round and 'round and 'round,
Parklife…(Parklife)
I say the names in my head a few times to see if there is a nice ring to it. And after about ten times of hearing the name in my head, I smile. "Then it's settled...on Sunday evening...we're heading back to the agency centre to pick up and finally take our boys, Daniel & Miles...HOME."
"AH...SEE...that wasn't hard to solve was it?" Kenny crosses his arms.
"Oh God, Daniel & Miles...so cute!" Oh dear, Stan's off on one again.
All the people, so many people.
When they ALL go hand in hand,
Hand in hand through their…Parklife.
The rest of the night sees us three talking about what kind of furniture we should be buying for the boys' shared bedroom. Kenny comes up with some pretty wierd ideas but the majority of the time, he's right with what he thinks. Cream-coloured carpet, lots of toys, massive teddy bears and soft-toys for them and a whole lot more are on our furniture shopping list when we have time to do so this week. Looks like I'll be needing a little trip to the bank for some withdrawls by the looks of things.
-
6 days later
-
We're back...finally! One last time...for one...or should we say...two...very special bundles of joy. And as we both press the little red buzzer on the side of the front door again...I look over to Stan who's got hold of my right hand and that smile of his just NEVER WILL go away.
All the people, so many people.
When they ALL go hand in hand,
Hand in hand through their…Parklife.
"Excited?"
"Ooooooooo...I'm more than that Kyle. This is the most happiest moment of my life."
"What about our wedding?"
I smile at him just as he turns his excited lil' face to me and smiles even more. "Oh come Kyle...all of my life with you and the boys is gunna be the best day EVER!"
"Well then...I guess becoming fathers is gunna be an exciting time for both of us then."
"YOU'RE DAM RIGHT!"
And with that said, the door opens and we're welcomed in. Now then, where's little Daniel and Miles, eh? Ha ha.
Author's Comments: Yes, that was a very British BRITISH song I used there...but ah, what the hell. So, how do you like the names, Daniel & Miles? Remember, Stan's got Daniel...and Kyle's got Miles. ;)