size ('sīz)
-noun
physical extent or bulk
characters/pairings: Stan, Randy, a mention of Kyle
Stan Marsh came home from school one afternoon to find his dad lazing out on the living room couch, wearing nothing but his briefs. With one hand flat on his exposed belly and the other on the TV remote, Randy watched a man on television down a beetle, raw, like Simba in the Lion King.
"Oo-oo-ooo," cringed Randy, followed by a burp. Much to his verbal disgust, Randy's eyes told Stan otherwise for they were practically glued to the TV screen. With his father having been unemployed for a while, this was a normal spectacle for Stan.
"Dad, can I talk to you for a minute?" asked the raven haired youngster, much to his father's indifference.
"Not now, Stan. I'm watching Bizarre Foods."
"But I have a serious question to ask you," his son pressed on. Then reluctantly he added, "…about my penis."
That did the trick. Stan watched as Randy willed the TV to fade black by the press of a button.
"What about your penis? Have a seat," Randy motioned his son onto the couch. Stan, cautious, sat on the far opposite side of him to keep a comfortable distance.
"At school today I heard some guys talking about the size of their penises. Does size really matter, dad?"
The older man sighed. "Son, when you have a chicken nugget, does it matter what size it is when you eat it?"
Not getting his father's outlandish logic, Stan raised his brows. "Uh.. no? But what do chicken nuggets have to do with anything?"
"What I'm trying to say, Stan, is no. Size does not matter," Randy claimed nobly.
"Then why were there guys in the bathroom making it sound so important?"
"Okay, try putting it this way then," began Randy at his second attempt. "Try putting yourself in a woman's perspective."
Already, Stan didn't like where this was going. Like he knew exactly what to think by putting himself in the shoes of a woman. If he wanted to know about being womanly he would ask Mr. Garrison.
"See, Stan. Women are like men. But instead of comparing their penises, they compare the size of their breasts."
"…"
"Men and women are both fools. They initially think that size matters, but in the end when they find someone they love, it doesn't matter at all! Take your mother for example," Randy continued. "I was lucky she actually had pretty big honkers. But if they were smaller, I would still love her! So you see, Stan. Don't work yourself up over size."
Agitated, Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. What his father didn't get was that he hadn't asked for a love-conquers-all response. Stan wanted to know why boys his age would care so much about size.
"Okay, dad. But I mean, like, did you ever compare your penis to someone else's?"
Sighing, the father admitted, "Yes, Stan. Back when I was a fool."
But you still are one, the child thought. "Why'd you do it?"
"Because I was curious. You and the boys at school are all gonna be asking yourselves questions until eventually your hormones will take over and you won't wanna be having this discussion with me again. It'll become personal once you're older and entering different phases."
"You did it because you were curious? Doesn't that mean you cared whether or not yours was bigger than someone else's?"
"The size of your penis isn't important, Stanley. Especially now at your age," the unclothed man repeated for the last time.
Still not accepting what he was getting out of his father's understanding, Stan argued, "But dad, size is important. If our family moved to a house the size of a box, wouldn't it be totally cramped? And if Cartman wore a shirt a size too small, wouldn't he look more like a fag?"
Having already reached his limit, Randy looked to his son, annoyed, retrieved the TV remote and turned it back on to the Travel Channel where Bizarre Foods was still airing.
"Go upstairs to your room, son. My show is on and they're featuring China right now."
"And if China was bigger, then maybe there wouldn't be any laws putting limits on how many children they can have! There are so many cases where size is important."
"Stan Marsh! Don't get smart with me and for God's sake please go to your room," Randy demanded.
"What if I told you I compared penises with Kyle!"
Eyebrows raised, Randy asked, "Was yours bigger?"
Gotcha. Just what Stan needed to hear in the end. That no matter what Randy told him, it did matter.
"So what now, dad? Size matters?"
Randy felt cheated. "Stan—"
"Forget it. Size does matter, so don't deny it. I'm going upstairs."
Leaving his father exactly the same way he left him, Stan marched his way to his room. He had only thought of it now, but perhaps he would've had better luck asking Kenny about this whole issue. And if Stan had known the answer all along, why did he even bother asking his idiot of a dad?
A/N: Ah, the importance of size. You could argue both sides for this.
And anyone ever watch Bizarre Foods on the Travel Channel? Interesting show. For some reason I just thought it was something I could see Randy getting real into. Lol, gotta love the guy.