Trimm Trabb

Stan's POV

Looks like we actually didn't need a full night's sleep after all. Despite the absolute lateness of waking up at 3 in the morning because of our boys, me and Kyle were actually quite alive and energetic this morning, even if we did wake up at about 9am – only six hours and we feel as if we've had twelve. I've been given the oh so special task of looking after and watching both the boys during the late morning slash early afternoon period. Just like Kyle murmured to my dizzy and tired self last night, (or should I say earlier this morning) he had a hell of a lot of work to do regarding the business and other such related companies. However, he's already stated it to his major staff and sector directors that he's taking some major time off work, just like me, to look after the boys, . But that hasn't stopped him from keeping his status visible - he still has the power to control his entire business and media empire...all from the delightful comfort of his own home.

Not many people know this, but Kyle's got one of those specially tight-sealed rooms down the corridor – complete with 12 inch-thick steel walls...and it's only an office. First, there's the first glass door, then a small eight feet anteroom corridor with a comfy chair and then there's the second glass door which opens up to his secret and oh so important office and study room. Even I haven't been in that place yet – it's the only room in this house where Kyle's cutesy and cuddly side is nowhere to be seen. He's 100 percent serious and focused when he steps in there, always dressed in a full four-piece 60K suit that's more smart than anything I'd ever expect at a regular business meeting at the headquarters.

I'm sure he'll be out in a few minutes, he's been in there for a couple of hours now...another day at the office away from THE office. Anyway, I'm sitting down on the floor and I keep looking between the boys to check that they're OK. I was sitting here before thinking that this would be much more of a task than last night, but in fact, it ISN'T...actually, it's much easier. Daniel's softly snoring away the afternoon in his little rocking cradle by the coffee table next to me and Miles meanwhile is having a hell of a lot of fun in his new lying-down play area. Heh, he's only six months old and he's ALREADY smart enough to realise the squishy red plastic buttons on the sides are the ones that make the popping sounds. Ha ha, looks like Miles' taking his intelligence talents from his dad. However, now that I think about it, I'm NOT looking forward to the more 'complex' challenges that babies make...in terms of changing and...hygiene. I shouldn't moan though – there are people out there who are much worse off than this and they still manage to cope. But then there's those who quite frankly, don't give a shit about their children.

I got no style.
I'll take my time.
All those losers on the piss again.
I dose dose away.

But at last, one child-related task is out of the way……well, two in fact. And once more, it left me and Kyle in disagreement over which was more complex.

"Nuh-uh……I didn't fucking understand half the stuff they were talking about and referencing in that thing YOU call a bris Kyle." I reminded him.

"YEH-HUH……at least my ceremony didn't involve pouring some water that's SUPPOSED to be holy into my child's poor little eyes." Well…I guess that is true……that Priest could have at least TRIED to not pour it into poor Daniel's eyes. I know he didn't mean it, but it looked as if he did it on purpose.

Anyway…THAT'S IT. Daniel's my official Christian son…and Miles is Kyle's official Jewish son.

That's just the way it is!
That's just the way it is…

I guess there is one thing me and Kyle CAN agree on – the actual existence of the question surrounding whether or not Kenny will take the responsible job of being both boy's godparent seriously. He certainly was surprised by our offer when we went up to him.

If I go back to about a couple of weeks ago, we FOUR (yep, we now see ourselves as a proper family image now) along with Butters, Bradley and their son had decided to go to Kenny's oh-so famous LA restaurant for a nice evening meal. As soon as we two had left Daniel and Miles with the others, we two made our way to the kitchen area of that nice and cosey red-shaded restaurant. No one stopped us from going towards the kitchen – Kyle and I were NOW huge major figures in the LA society so everyone treated us with respect. And I have to say, for someone who's made himself stand out as one of the most famous chefs in the World and is dressed up in the full head-chef's white uniform, you would have thought Kenny'd put JUST a little gel in his hair just to treat it nicely. But NOPE, looks like 'Le Scruff's famous look of blond messed up hair stays. Anyway, as soon as we'd told Kenny what we were offering him, his jaw dropped quickly and he stood with his arms up – ready to hug us both and letting in the final few seconds of the shock sink in.

"OH MY GOD GUYS……you really want ME to be the godparent of BOTH of them?"

"Yep……despite your……reading habits…"

He laughed. "Indeed……and I thought you would have done some research on me before you made that decision guys. You two especially know my current track record in the reading department, right?!"

"YES…we know."

"Yer' not desperate are yer'? Not finding any decent nominees so you're having to drag yourself to this place to ask Mr. Last-Man Resort I.E. MOIR!?"

"Honest Kenny…" Kyle began. "…you're a great friend to us dude and you always have been. So I think this is one of the ways we can show you just how much we're saying 'thanks'."

"Well y'know what my answer is gunna be guys though I'm not gunna say the full and explicit version of it since I know you've got your kids here. By the way, where are the two adorables?"

"They're in the PRIVATE dining area of your restaurant. They're with Butters & Bradley and their kid."

"Brilliant. Well, I don't usually do this…" Kenny winked to us. "……but just for you guys, I'm gunna get this lot of young fucker-uppers I call my cooking staff to put your food on top priority – don't worry, I'll make sure they don't spit in it."

"KENNY!"

"Ha ha, I'm just having a laugh. Anyway, when I'm done with my current orders, I'll come over and give my little 'Le Scruff' introduction to the two boys. OH I KNOW, can they call me 'Uncle Kenny', huh?" He then starts TRYING to impersonate what he thinks Daniel and Miles will sound like at a young age. "'Hey Uncle Kenny……we think you're cool Uncle Kenny……can we have a look at those magazines of yours Uncle Kenny?'"

"Kenny, they're not even a year old, how they are supposed to say that NOW?"

"Well y'know……how 'bout I give 'em a reading tutorial just to brush up on their vocabulary for starters?" He laughs again at which me and Kyle give him a peculiar but hard 'Don't you dare' look……but we know he was just joking……I think. And with that said, we see Kenny quickly walk back into the kitchen – followed immediately by a serious-sounding: "RIGHT, we've got loads of orders coming and I don't want my restaurant looking like a fucking wasteland out there, YA' GOT IT!?" & a 'YES CHEF!' from two dozen young cooks inside.

So, just as we had set it and just how we'd hoped they would happen, Daniel's Baptism & Miles' Bris ran without any SERIOUS complications or problems. And just like I had experienced from a past ceremony, I'm not really fond of watching what HAPPENS during a bris. But Kyle, his family AND Kenny – OH YEH, all normal for them. But I guess I got my revenge in knowing he looked just as dazed and confused at my religions' youth ceremony.

"We baptize this child as Daniel Michael Marsh-Broflovski in the name of the father, the son and the holy spirit." The entire church heard and Kyle simply stood only two feet away with a big 'What The Fuck?!" look on his face – BRILLIANT, ha ha.

I've got Trimm Trabb,
Like the flash boys have.
And I can't go back,
Let it flow, let it flow.

I hear Daniel making some cooing sounds as he begins to wake up from his nap. And judging by what I know about baby noises, he wants to be out of that rocking cradle immediately. I lift him out and place him in my arms as I lean him on my shoulder. I stand up and take him into the kitchen to give him his 'dinner' – a nice warm bottle of milk. Good thing Kyle prepared these and placed them in a warmer device earlier on – I'd be hopeless just pouring the milk product into a bottle and slapping the pacifier thing on top with Daniel in my arms. But just as I open the device, lift out the cosey-warm bottle and place it near Daniel's mouth, my son already dives his head forward – my my, looks like he's thirsty and in need of a drink, ha. He steadily sucks his milk down and I rock him gently in my arms as I take a few slow-walking laps around the kitchen – checking now and again on how Miles is doing. Hell, I don't need to do that actually – he's too busy smiling and laughing at how fun and colorful his little play centre thing is as he lyes on the living room carpet; cooingly but adorably laughing. Daniel's small little arms move up and he leans his tiny hands on the bottle. Reading his hand movement, it looks as if he's telling me he's had enough for now and wants me to put it down and give him the little baby-faces I pull that he seems to love. Awwwww, it's so cute how babies act and move just to tell you something. I can tell already that these two are gunna be such great kids for me and Kyle to raise.

Kyle's POV

"WHAT? Run that past me again!" I say – absolutely shocked at what I'm hearing from my Head Of Television Research at KBSM Headquarters.

"Well…sir…according to our recent viewing figures – we're being beaten in viewer interest by the new Reality TV series that's currently showing on FOX. Our ratings are down 62 percent and our overall channel viewings are down 27 percent."

"You're telling me that our channel which is home to some of the best programming in this country – not to mention the new series of Political Thrillers that have won Golden Globes AND Emmy's…are getting beat by some stupid TV shows about 15 people getting recorded 24/7?"

"I'm afraid so, sir." Another of my head-staff annoyingly reminds me via her plasma screen uplink. "May I suggest an approval to allow the main programme coordinators to commence construction of some new ideas put forward for a couple of Reality TV shows."

"Fuck that…" I cry out – banging my fist on the mahogany table just to the side of me. "I hate that kind of TV; it's not even TV for crying out loud."

"But sir…if this trend keeps going, we'll lose our rating figures and hence, our status as the most well-known station in the country."

There's no time for rest or even seconds of thought in here. This room, unlike all the others, is pure business and utter total seriousness. God, it tires me out at the end of this every time, and I feel SO by myself in here.

I sleep in love,
I sleep alone.

I feel like this is all new to me, but it isn't. I have to put up with making harsh and difficult decisions like this practically every week – it's not easy being CEO of a media company y'know. Taking off my glasses and sucking one of the titanium ear-rests, I rotate my leather chair back around to the wall of plasma screens which all have live uplinks to the faces of my co-directors and heads of the different sectors of my company. "Alright…I guess there's no other choice………Jones…"

"Sir?"

"Give the programming coordinators approval to start coming up with some new shows."

"Yes sir!"

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen, that's all the important matters for today, taken care of. This meeting is over – I'll see you all back at the headquarters in 2 weeks." As my team gives me the accepting nod, I touch the green-glowing digital circle on my built-in tablet on my table, and all the plasma screens on the wall turn off into blackness. Rotating my chair back around and looking down at the digital screen on my table, I look again at today's meeting's records and all the usual information about my company and how the business is going. Overall, all is well except for the channel ratings. I never thought I'd see TOO MUCH Reality TV on my network, but if that's what the people want, than I guess that's the only way to get the ratings back up.

Moving my hand through the light-switch hologram on the wall, the lights above turn from a buzzing haze back to their default brightness again. Even though I usually do my meetings in this room, I still have the dignity to dress myself in my usual four-piece dark brown suit whenever I address my company staff. It'll be good to get out of these clothes after spending over two hours in here – I bet Stan's having a nightmare trying to take care of the boys by himself, for this long. Finally, opening the first glass door on my way-out, I enter the small ante-room with the chair in it, and FINALLY back into the relaxing comfort of my home.

"Stan…where are you?!" I call.

"In here." He calls back – signaling me into the living room. As I begin to loosen my tie and take off my jacket, I see Stan sitting on the couch with Daniel in his arms. "Miles is down here too." I take a peak around the corner and find Miles lying on the carpet – STILL enjoying that play-thing of his with all the weirdly-shaped buttons and tags.

"Any problems?"

"Not really, Daniel's just woken up and Miles' been having a heck of a lot of fun with that Fisher Price thingy-ma-jig of his."

"Heh, I guess $85 DOES go to good use if he's still lying there after 2 hours."

"So……is that you all done then?" Stan asks – as I unfasten this tight white shirt around me.

"Yep……slightly annoyed that we're gunna be seeing more Reality TV on my network, but apart from that, everything's A-OK at the business."

"Well thank God for that – I was starting to worry about you in there."

"Hey, don't worry Stan, I'm not putting business first – family is WAY more important to me than what happens at the company."

"Good answer." Which is followed by a sneaky kiss he gives me on the lips – leaning me back slightly as my shirt is only just hanging from my arms. He gives me a wink and heads off upstairs to dress Daniel properly. If there's any couple in the World who can translate each other's looks and tactics during these kinds of things, than I guess it would HAVE to be us. So, judging by the way he kissed me AND gave me that assuring wink and smile, I know what that means, ha ha.

That's just the way it is,
Just the way it is.
That's just the way it is,
Just the way it is.

Stan's POV

Half an hour later, Daniel, Miles AND Kyle are now properly and casually dressed for our trip up North to San Francisco – or at least, what they've re-built of that place since the SECOND smug-attack, not that the first-one caused enough damage.

"Right, UP WE GO…" Kyle says as he picks Miles up and leans him on his shoulder, as I too, pick Daniel up and we make our way outside to the 4x4 Rover. Good thing this land rover's got those new built-in baby seats you can just fold out and in. With them already out and set, me and Kyle place our boys in the back-seats and fasten them securely in. We know that these two LOVE to sit close together whenever we're out. If we try and have them sitting on opposite sides of a vehicle, they just DO NOT stop making slight crying noises that they're not side-by-side. Instead, we have them both sat in the middle.

"Let's hope we can get these two to realize they don't need to cry when they're apart."

"True, though I do think is quite adorable them sitting together like that." And that certainly is true.

I got Trimm Trabb,
Like the flash boys have.
And I can't go back,
Let it flow, let it flow.

Let's hope it's only a matter of time before these two are sleeping apart without crying.

I sleep in love,
I sleep alone.

With them firmly strapped in the back, and me and Kyle firmly strapped in the front, I give Kyle the smile that we're set to go.

"So where to first – your family's place, or mine?" I ask.

"Whichever, not that it matters, both our parents live closely by. It's one thing that my parents actually wanted to go back and live there permanently just so that they're STILL living in the same state as me……" Kyle reminds me – obviously embarrassed that his parents are still in that too-much-caring sort of mood. "……but it's another thing that they persuaded YOUR parents to go and live there too."

"Don't remind me."

And with that said, the iron gates open and shut behind us as we begin our trip up to San Francisco to where both our families are – probably counting the seconds until they see little Daniel and Miles…again.