Chapter Two
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"Swearing is bad. M'kay? You should never swear children because it's very bad. M'kay?". After Eric's little rant in which he shouted 'Fucking Jew' at the top of his lungs, Mr Garrison had decided to bring in the school councillor Mr Mackey. He had been speaking AT us for the past half hour. Practically 30 minutes about the obscenities of using swear words and how it's very bad to swear. A whole 30 minutes he had been talking about the same topic and much like everyone else, I had heard just about enough. Sighing with added emphasis I retreated my head into my hands and wished for Mr Mackey's tedious low-toned voice to stop.
"Eric, can I ask why you swore now? M'kay?", he pried. Eric sighed audibly before cutting his eyes at Kyle.
"Kyle called me a fat ass", he hissed.
"Kyle called me a fat ass", mimicked Kyle, purposely trying to irritate Eric further than what he already was. Stan seemed to find this immature and instead decided to roll his eyes.
"Fuck you Jew!", Eric spat back.
Of course, using 'fuck' following the half-hour hate-campaign on swearing that we just had to endure was probably not a good idea.
"Eric!", gasped Mr Garrison who was currently sat upright at his desk, the folds in his forehead fully emphasising the anger he was feeling.
"What!?", Eric spat totally oblivious to what he had said.
"You just said fuck", I sighed tiredly, completely fed up of hearing about the consequences of using swear wor- Did I just say that out loud?
"Nathan?", questioned Mr Mackey accusingly, obviously surprised to believe that I had just swore out loud on my first day at school. Shit. I was such a fucktard sometimes.
"Yes?", I replied, inwardly cringing to myself. Before Mr Mackey could reply, Mr Garrison had shot up and was out of his seat.
"That's it! Something needs to be done about these hooligans!". He stampeded towards Mr Mackey, stopping himself from colliding into him right at the last moment. "These brats need to be taught that swearing is wrong from someone more competent", Mr Garrison continued, making sure to add extra emphasis to word 'competent'. so that Mr Mackey would be fully aware that he was being insulted right to his face. Ironically the insult washed over him like water off a duck's back. Mr Mackey had been called a lot worse in his life time, so being called-out for being incompetent hardly offended him. Clearly deciding to ignore the insult, he smiled towards the teacher infront of him.
"Well what do you suggest..? M'kay", Mr Mackey asked, in a very timid manner. Mr Garrison seemed to pause in thought, his face showing nothing but utter-concentration. After a couple minutes he sprang into action. Grabbing a piece of chalk he began to write his plan on the blackboard in a rushed manner. Mr Mackey was simply mesmerised by the speed of his colleagues writing, much like most of the class who had probably not really paid him any attention during their school lives. Within seconds the frantic writings of Mr Garrison had stopped. He stepped back in admiration, proudly marveling at his masterpiece.
"What is it?", came Craig's curious nasally voice from behind. Mr Garrison span comically on the spot, fully parading the fact that he was proud of his masterplan.
"Children...", he almost sang, "How would you like to go to Stark Forest Appreciation Scout-Camp this weekend?". He was met with a wave of mumbles and cries of protest, but instead of reacting negatively he just laughed loudly, his cackle riptiding through the air.
"You take charge. I need to print of the letters for the kids to give their parents", he giggled to Mr Mackey as he rushed out of the classroom. Within seconds Mr Mackey was rushing after Mr Garrison, shouting frantically about teachers not being allowed to leave their students. Almost instantaneously after his departue, I could feel the accusing glares of about fifteen different fourth graders. If looks could kill people, then I would've probably been reduced to a pile of mush and goo. Even Pip of all people looked a little annoyed with me. Drowning in the hatred that was now manifesting around me I slumped back in my chair, face glowing bright crimson.
"I'mma kick that kids ass", whispered Eric behind me in a cruel and vile manner.
"Shut up Cartman", Stan spat back, his face contorted in anger. Kyle then leaned over, his face practically identical to Stans.
"Yeah Cartman. This is just as much your fault as it is his". I mentally reminded myself to thank Stan and Kyle later for defending me.
"If anyone needs their ass kicked it's the both of you".
Scratch that. The only thing I'm going to remind myself is to run for my life when the bell rings for recess.
"Don't threaten me you Jew", Cartman spat back nervously, obviously worried incase they decided to kick his ass aswell as mine.
"Hey!", came Stan's irritated voice. "Good going new kid".
Oh.
He was talking to me.
How did I know that this, was going to be terrible, terrible day?
I reluctantly turned to face him, my face still an illuminous shade of red.
"I hope you're happy. You've got us going to some faggy camp in the middle of woods", Stan ranted, his hands flailing wildly as he spoke.
"I- I'm sorry", I mumbled. I sheepishly turned my head so that I could address the whole class, most of which were either glaring at me or glaring at Eric. "I'm sorry everyone. I- I was just fed up an- and- and I wasn't thinki-".
"It's okay fella", Butters shyly interrupted, with a tone that made it sound more like a question instead of a declarative. Butters was most likely, not happy about possibly being sent to some appreciation camp, however he was more than likely just trying to make me feel better for getting the whole class sent to some camp during the weekend.
"No. No it's not okay fella", mimicked Clyde evily, simultaneously insulting Butters and dampening my spirits further. So much for Butters making me feel better. I'd have to remember to thank Butters for trying though. It was more than what anyone else was doing.
"Because of you and fatass we have to go in some killer infested woods for some stupid lessons about not swearing", Kyle complained as he dejectedly lay his head on his desk. The surrounding 4th graders all groaned in unison. By now I was sure that my face was probably the shade of a tomato, as I seriously couldn't think of a way I could ever feel more embar- Wait. What? What did he say?
"Killer!?".
"Yeah. It's been all over the news. Mangled bodies found scattered all over the place. Loads of missing limbs and stuff...", he continued, his voice slightly muffled by the desk his head was currently positioned on.
"What!?", I almost yelled, the terror on my face obviously seeming comical to Eric who was now laughing under his breath.
"There's a murderer around the forest dickhole. What's so hard to understand about that?", hissed Stan sarcastically.
"I'd be more worried about the alien beast that lives in the forest if I was you", interjected a boy whose name I'd previous learnt to be Token. Murderers? Alien beasts? What on Earth is wrong with this town?
"No the murderer is obviously more scary", stated Craig as he maneurved himself to find a comfier position in his chair. As Craig finished speaking the bell went for recess, everyone getting up from their seats except for Eric who sat there twiddling his thumbs.
"Craig. Alien beasts are terrifying. They're from a different planet for peaks sake", Eric argued falsly, obviously trying to get everyone in the class to forget about how they were going to kick his ass... and mine. However, I had a theory that him trying to maintain the change of topic was more for his benefit rather than mine. In no less than 5 seconds the class was back in arms, argung with each other over which was scarier. A murderer or an alien beast. I thought that a murderer was way scarier than an alien beast, mainly because aliens don't exist. AND even if they did exist, what would they be doing in a town like South Park? Either way I didn't mind, this little debate had provided me with enough time to escape the classroom before anyone else. All I had to do now was survive until home time and I would be safe.
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Kicking my shoes off, I sighed heavily and threw my school bag towards the bottom of the stairs. However, due to the fact that one of my eyes was now swollen and purple following the beatings I received from the kids in my year, my bag actually missed the stairs completely, spilling it's contents all over the floor. I sighed loudly, crouched down and began shoving stationary back into my school bag.
"Dinner's on the table son", came my mom happy voice from the kitchen. Obviously, the noise I made failing to throw my bag had notified her that I was home.
"Oh? Is this little Nathan I've been hearing about?", came another voice, which apparently was also situated in the kitchen. I had never heard this voice before but I chose to ignore it, believing that food was a little bit more important than socialising with anyone else in this god forsaken town. Finishing placing the last of my stationary into my bag, I headed towards the dining room, feeling happy and content that no more drama could happen today...
Unless mom had made me one of her dreaded casseroles.
If this were the case then I could assure you that there would be drama. Forget assuring it, I could promise you, tell you the time and even tell you the place, because I would make sure that there was drama whenever she cooked casseroles. Entering the dining room, I carefully put my now-full school bag on the back of one of the chairs before settling down to see what I had the pleasure of eating today.
Bangers and Mash.
You could call me old fashioned, but my mom's Bangers and Mash were one of her delicasies. It's what she would cook whenever she had guests over, as if to show off her cooking skills. I'm not sure how one could brag about cooking sausages or about mashing up potatoes but my mom found a way. The fact that I heard another woman's voice was probably the reasoning for why I was eating this meal.
"You enjoying your dinner Nathan?", my mom asked braggingly as she sauntered into the living room, followed by a plumpish woman with bright red hair. I shrugged my reply and continued to prod a blob of mash to death with my fork. She laughed at my response before pausing and staring intently in my direction. The woman behind her standing awkwardly as if unsure whether to talk or not.
"Has someone hit you Nathan?", my mom asked, her voice going up a few decibels as she rushed towards me.
"No mom", I lied. Choosing to ignore me, she grabbed my head and turned it lightly so that she could inspect the bruising on my face.
"Is there anything I can do?", asked the red-headed woman, who was still stood cluelessly in the middle of my dining room.
"Erm... Actually, yes, thank you Sheila. If you go into the kitchen, the drawer nearest the door has some sort of medi-kit pack. Can you grab that for me please?". The woman nodded and rushed into the kitchen, before returning a few seconds later with a small red box.
"Is this it?". My mom turned to look at the box and smiled.
"That's it. Thank you". With that, Sheila passed my mom the box, while I rolled my eyes at my moms over-protective nature. As if on cue she retrieved a bandage and a small bottle of anti-septic fluid from the medi-kit.
"Who did this Nathan?", my mom asked sternly as she poured some of the fluid on the bandage. Sheila watched over my mom's shoulder, obviously intent on hearing who had hit me. I was silenced before I could speak, by my mom who was pushing the bandage into my eye. I couldn't do anything except bite my lip when my mom held the bandage to one of the worser areas of my eye. The sharp striking pain brought water to my eyes, each second getting progressively worse then the previous until the pain seemed to magically subside all together. "Well?".
"Just some kids at school", I mumbled arrogantly.
"In your year?", Sheila asked with genuine curiousity. I nodded my head lightly before pushing my moms hand away from my face.
"What were their names?", my mom asked as she made her way to the bin to dispose of the bandage. Again I just shrugged, acting very bored and disinterested with the conversation at hand. Of course I knew who had helped beat me up, but I wasn't going to tell on them because that would only make things worse... wouldn't it? Before I could even ponder this, Sheila spoke up.
"I'll ask my Kyle about it. I'm sure he'll know". My mom nodded her head approvingly before the both of them sauntered back into the kitchen. I slouched back against the chair and sighed. Suddenly I wasn't hungry anymore and instead I just wanted to play catch with my dad. He always knew what to do, and he always had an answer for everything. He was still probably at work fixing cars though, so to pass the time I turned on the television and began to waste the day away.
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Firstly, how do you guys like the story-image cover? It took about thirty minutes to draw it, another ten minutes to colour and then a final ten minutes editing it on the computer. Hopefully it looks okay, and hopefully it doesn't give too much away ahah. Oh, and yes I know that the aliens don't normally come in Orange, but without colour the alien didn't really show up on the computer when I uploaded the picture, so I just chose a random colour to colour it in.
Secondly, was that an alright second chapter? Hopefully it was okay and hopefully you guys liked it. I tried to make this one a little longer by putting two chapters into one. The first half of the plot is beginning to be introduced here. If you guys think that I need to hurry up with plot development or that I just maintain this slow introductory phrase for couple more chapters then make sure you let me know!
Disclaimer; South Park unfortunately, still isn't owned by me.