Disclaimer: Disclaimed.

A/N: I have a new editor! And she's my very own sister! She's very blunt…and makes loud noises randomly just to scare me while I'm writing. Plus as soon as I take my hands away from the keyboard it all becomes some style lemon written in chat-speak. But still, new (and first) editor!

"And we can all lobby for a safer, healthier, cleaner world. Thank you."

From the couch Stan gave a disgusted sound and shook his head. "Nah, you sound like a supreme asshole. You gotta make a joke."

"A joke? You think this is funny? Sweet n' Pure is killing our planet! Kyle looked up from his note-cards and snarled.

"What I meant was, all successful public figures are funny. Barack Obama, Lenny Bruce, Benjamin Franklin, Matt Stone and Trey Parker-"

"Benjamin Franklin wasn't funny!"

"He was a big fat guy with a ponytail. 'Course he was funny."

Kyle flopped next to his friend dramatically and heaved a sigh. "So what do you think I should say?"

"I don't know…. How about, um… jeez, uh… How 'bout this: Sweet n' Pure isn't so sweet and pure."

"…"

"Killer huh?"

"…"

"That's terrible."

Wendy walked in and sat between her fellow environmentalists. "Say what your feeling." Yes, she was cool enough to quote Disney with a straight face.

"I'm feeling like this rally is a terrible idea."

Stan turned on the TV. "What's the worst thing that could happen? It's not, like, assassins are going to be there."

"Yeah…" Kyle paused, face illuminated by the television's cheery glow. "Hey, this is off topic but have you seen the documentary guy around? Azure something?"

After a few seconds the man in the orange hoodie abruptly stood up and grinned, breaking the mood completely. " All right now that that's been cleared up, time for dinner… and beer… and possibly more beer!" A light cheer greeted him. Bebe shrugged and visibly loosened at the mention of alcohol.

Without untying their new befuddled guest, forks and plates were flung onto the table, seating arranged for fourteen and Christophe (or SFAR) pulled an unidentified dish out of their fridge next to the battered freezer full of… only god knows what.

"Enjoy, you deesgusting leetle beetches. Feel zee gap een your souls with cuisine." And with those light-hearted words Christophe slammed it on the table and hastily lit a cigarette.

After wolfing down a few forkfuls of the brownish greenish mess the girl with day-glow green bangs started to talk energetically to Indigo. "I'm Lucy and the constipated looking fellow with the hat on my left is Craig… but everyone calls him Cragily-Poo!"

Craig glared. "You're the only one who calls me that, spaz!" He flipped her off. A gesture she cheerfully mirrored.

"Nuh-uh! Adrienne, Lucky and Marisa do too!"

The girl dressed like a bag of skittles, the southerner in a Nirvana shirt and bomber jacket, and Missy Gold Eyes all looked up as their names were called and nodded energetically.

"But, darling, I prefer Craig Bear." "Adrienne" giggled. More middle finger action on Craig's part.

"Lucky" thought for a second. "Really? I particularly like Craig-zilla after the miniature golf incident."

"Your all wrong," "Marisa" paused to fluff her shiny dark hair, "McMeany is the best." Craig's third finger was starting to get sore.

"Fuck you guys!" He said sulkily, though no one seemed to care. "And you," he gestured to Indigo with his fork, "call me Craig and nothing else. Indigo gulped and nodded.

"Hey. I'm Token." The African-American man sitting next to Craig smiled tiredly, ignoring the argument completely. He wore an eggplant purple shirt with a big "T" on it. Indigo wondered if it was custom-made.

"I'm I-Indigo."

"I know."

Token elbowed the white-haired girl at his side (who's 'do looked like on of a sheepdog's). "My name is Hope." She said in deadpan, as if a simple greeting was taking all her energy.

"Clyde." The plain-but chubby-looking guy said happily, spewing half-eaten food everywhere.

The guy in neon orange pushed Clyde out of the way, "And I'm Kenny." He pulled down his headache colored hood, exposing shaggy blonde hair, blue eyes, and a charismatic smirk. Adrienne giggled and blushed girlishly at him, causing everyone in the room (even Indigo) to roll their eyes.

"So," Kenny asked Indigo as he pointed to his shirt, "Tweeky gave you the old animal bomb."

"Wha-"

The insane blonde looked up from his dinner and interrupted Indigo with a large shriek, "I-it's not a, ngh, bomb! It's an e-e-exploding message!"

"It's a bomb Tweek."

"GAH! No it's not!"

"Indigo, what would you call it?" Marisa asked.

"I-"

"Hey!" Adrienne elbowed her. "Don't hog the guest! Sorry indigo"

"You're hogging the guest!"

"Excuse-"

"I'm not hogging him! Indigo am I hogging you?"

"Well-"

Lucy cocked her head. "Indigo, how do you dye your hair without drying it out?"

"Um-"

"Now you're hogging him!" Adrienna and Marisa yelled.

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yuh-uh!"

"Golly gosh, aren't you all mature." Lucky muttered and massaged her temples.

Kenny smiled wider, "Catfight!" Craig and Clyde perked up at this. They were given four icy glares that could kill a rhino. The men clammed up fast.

Token shook his head and waved goodbye to Indigo before wandering off with Hope and a six-pack of beer. Tweek departed after "borrowing" several knives and some baking soda. Gregory pulled Marisa from the room by the collar of her shirt and Bebe seemed to have disappeared halfway through dinner. Smart move.

Christophe clutched at his hair. "Puzzies, zere all puzzies." He stomped outside. His boy or girl companion got up to follow before noticing Indigo was still there and involuntarily watching the argument turned flirtfest.

"Fuck." He/she spat before grabbing the back of his chair and half dragged half carried him out of the kitchen and into the grey, torn up living room which held a couch and what looked like a T.V.

"What are you doing?" Indigo yelped.

It snarled. "Finding a place to put you. Now shut the hell up."

The redhead attempted the stairs but gave up after a few seconds out of pure laziness. The boy or girl surveyed the downstairs area before his/her eyes landed on a small black door.

"That's it, you're bunking with Mr. Kitty."

"Mr Kitty?" He was tossed in to a dingy room that held a mattress, a mangy grey cat and huge quantities of animal waste.

"Enjoy."

Indigo did not want to get on this persons bad(der) side so he decided to be gracious, "Thanks man." He forced out.

The woman punched him in the face, making that the third time this evening.