Chapter Two
8.36am
Token Black
Party at my place tonight! Hell yeah!
Token loved all his friends. He really did. He just wanted to know why they were so stupid sometimes. Honestly, it was like he couldn't go one day without one of them doing something weird, impulsive or just plain dumb. Every time they did something retarded, he'd always think that nothing could top what had happened. They always proved him wrong.
But this time, he was really, really, so extremely freaking sure that nothing would ever top this.
Tweek and Nicole were taping egg cartons to his windows.
He'd never seen anything like that before in his life.
In addition to that, there was a fortress of pillows and cushions along the left side of his living room and uncooked pasta scattered all over the place. And there were maple leaves with marshmallows glued to them attached to the ceiling fan, suspended there by strings.
Nicole was holding down the egg cartons, a look of intense concentration on her face. Tweek was taping them down firmly with duct tape, his messy blonde hair falling into his face.
"Tweek? Nicole? What are you doing?" He asked calmly.
The duo turned to him. Nicole burst into peals of laughter.
"GAH! Token, your h-house isn't s-s-safe!" Tweek dropped the duct tape and jabbed a finger at the egg-carton-covered windows.
"From what? Sunlight? I already have curtains, in case you haven't noticed them." He jabbed a finger at the rich plum coloured curtain, tying to ignore the fact that Nicole looked like she was about to die from laughing.
"N-no, it's f-from -AH!- t-the GNOMES! We're g-gnome proofing y-y-your house!"
Why wasn't he surprised?
"Look, guys, the party is in three hours. You said you were gonna help set up the place!"
"We are!" Nicole protested. "Like, you wouldn't want one of your guests to have their underpants stolen, do you?"
"Look, guys, the gnomes don't -"
"FUCK!" Riot.
"You dumbfuck. You have to put the cover on before you start the fucking blender!" Craig.
Token didn't want to know.
"Like you would fucking know, Mr OJ!"
"At least I don't fucking splatter the fucking walls with a fucking stupid smoothie! OJ doesn't cause shit like that!"
"Damn it all." Token mumbled, his head in his hands. Nicole and Tweek had gone back to taping egg cartons to his windows.
Riot and Craig stumbled into the room, covered in pale pink slush. And it was getting on the carpet.
Why am I friends with you guys? Oh my GOD, you're all retards.
"Gnome proofing the place?" Craig struggled to keep the corners of his lips from quirking up.
"Yup!" Nicole and Tweek chorused, clutching the duct tape and egg cartons.
"Wow, you totally trashed the place, and the party, like, hasn't even begun yet." Riot propped her elbow on Craig's shoulder and tipped her head to the side. "I like the pasta. It's a nice touch."
"Guys, seriously-"
"TOKEN!" An overjoyed Clyde ran into the room, a goofy smile on his face. At the sight of his best friend, Token almost softened. Almost. Then he glanced around the room and contemplated screaming at all of them.
"There are fucking egg cartons on my windows, pasta on the fucking floor, leaves with MARSHMALLOWS on them attached to the damn fan, a fort of pillows near the door, and my fucking kitchen is probably a huge mess. The party is in three freaking hours, and you mess up my house now, of all times. WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ALL OF YOU?"
He was fuming. Once again, his friends had completely trashed his house, and he had about three hours to get it presentable before people started arriving.
And he was pretty sure they didn't even give a damn.
Tweek, Nicole, Riot, Craig and Clyde just stared at him for a moment, before Clyde decided to relieve the tension with his Clydeness.
"Sandwich!" He ran to Token and threw his arms around Token. The rest followed (with Tweek pulling Craig along with him) and smothered Token in a huge hug.
"You guys are all retards."
"Yeah, but you love us anyway."
He did. He really did.
"Here, drink this," A red plastic cup filled with beer was thrust into Kyle's hands.
Kyle narrowed his eyes at the blonde, who blinked his baby blues innocently.
"Are there roofies in here?" He asked suspiciously. He knew Kenny probably wouldn't spike his drink, but still…
It was Kenny.
Kenny frowned. "C'mon, dude." He swung an arm around the shorter boy. "Loosen up! Have fun. This is a party. People come here to drink, dance and have sex. Not to, like, mope."
"I'm not moping! Since when is not getting drunk as fuck considered moping?"
"Since forever!" Kenny threw his arms in frustration. "Look there," He pointed to the dance floor.
Kyle looked. Several of his classmates were dancing, laughing, screaming. Just having fun.
"Well…"
"Come on! Even Craig drinks! He knows how to have fun. And he's like, Craig."
At that point, Craig walked by, a cup of beer in his hand, and flipped the duo off without looking at them. "
They both stared at him for a moment. Kyle bit his lip. Maybe he was being a little uptight. After all, it was a party. And it's not like he'd never gotten drunk before…
Kenny put his hands on Kyle's shoulders. "Kyle. Drink. Flirt. Have fun. Don't mope."
"I wasn't moping!"
Kenny smirked and walked away. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Broflovski!" He called over his shoulder.
Scowling, Kyle's fingers itched to hurl the beer at Kenny's head.
Screw it.
Instead, he poured the drink down his throat.
By twelve, the party was in full swing. The music was even louder, more and move alcohol was being drunk, and the dance floor was crowded with screaming teenagers. Several people were already smashed, and many were teetering on the precarious edge between tipsy and drunk.
A short redhead was standing at one side of a long wooden table, her eyes narrowed at the brunette boy opposite her. There were ten shot glasses on the table. Five in front of her, and five in front of the boy. Several others were surrounding the duo, and many were placing bets. The redhead ran a hand through her hip length strawberry red hair and smirked.
"You're going down Clyde," She grasped the edge of the table, bobbing her head along to the beat of 'Shots' by LMFAO.
Clyde snorted. "In your dreams, Walker," He looked down at Nicole, who was only 5'2. Pretty short compared to his 5'10.
Nicole threw a glance at Kim, who nodded.
"You guys ready?" The short brunette asked, grinning. She was shorter than Nicole, being only 4'9. Then Kim rolled her turquoise eyes. "This is really stupid, by the way. No one can take five shots and not pass out. But, whatever."
They both nodded.
"'Kay then. But don't come crying to me when you both collapse and die," Kim started the timer. "GO!"
"DRINK, DRINK, DRINK, DRINK!" The other students hollered at the two immediately started taking the shots.
Crap.
Whatever it was in there, it was pretty damn strong. Nicole was pretty thankful for her high alcohol tolerance. She tipped back her third shot.
"DRINK, DRINK, DRINK, DRINK!"
Burning. Ouch.
There was absolutely no way she was losing. She took the last shot, and slammed the glass down on the table in triumph.
"Hell yeah!" She threw her arms up in the air.
"Aw, you suck!" Clyde pouted as the rest of the students cheered.
Nicole would have replied if her mind wasn't so fuzzy. Her mind was jumping all over the place.
Maybe five shots wasn't such a good idea after all.
Nicole glanced up, only to see Clyde being dragged away by Bebe.
Typical.
"NICOLE!" Someone screamed, pulling her into a tight hug.
She blinked at the raven haired boy in front of her. "Stan?"
"Why does everyone think I'm Stan?" He whined, latching onto her arm. "I'm Craig."
She focused her hazelnut eyes on the boy, who was infact a very drunk and giggly Craig. She'd always liked drunk Craig. He always pulled a complete three-sixty.
"Your hat," she poked his head with a laugh. "Where'd it go?"
He considered her question. "Uh. I don't know. Do you like oranges? I like oranges. I like sparkly unicorn orange puffs!"
"Noooooo, cherries are totally better than oranges."
"Hey, Stan, have you seen-" Lucky asked, popping out of nowhere, looking at Craig.
"I'M CRAIG!" He flipped her off. Nicole started giggling at Lucky's stunned face.
"Um, okay," Lucky just walked off, probably rolling her eyes at Craig's rudeness.
Nicole started poking Craig's arm over and over again.
"You're so rude, Craigy."
"I know!" He beamed. "It's great, huh?"
They just looked at each other and started laughing hysterically.
Craig stared at her. "Dance with me," He shot her a cheesy smile and grabbed her wrist.
She let him pull her towards the crowded dance floor.
Bonnie stared at the shot glasses, looking slightly uncertain. She turned to Kenny, twirling a lock of her long honey blonde curls around her finger.
"I'm not sure..."
Kenny shot her a winning smile. "Come on, babe," He slung an arm around her waist. "It's not that bad. Unless you're, uh, light weight. Then you'll pretty much get trashed after about three shots. Or two."
Kenny smacked himself internally when Bonnie's big green eyes widened.
She didn't drink. And Kenny knew that. But it was a party, he was Kenny, she was a girl, and there was alcohol. He could make anyone drink if he wanted to. It just took the right words.
He gazed at the blonde girl, who bit her lip. She was really sweet, always smiling. And she had a thing for him.
"Oh, I don't know…" She mumbled, poking one of the glasses delicately.
"It'll be fine," He coaxed, pulling her closer. "Come on. Would I lie to you?"
A pink blush coloured her cheeks. Kenny grinned. So close.
"No, I guess not." Bonnie giggled, smiling sweetly at Kenny. "Well, I guess one shot won't hurt." She reached out and took a glass filled with some pink concoction.
Kenny grinned as they clinked their glasses together.
AN: Okay, I'm absolutely horrible. I'M SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT! D: And I don't even think the chapter is that great. Gah.
I was really busy. And by busy, I mean lazy. And by lazy, I mean I was just sleeping and eating, and having writers block.
I suck.
Anyway, here's the long awaited chapter! –jazz hands- I'll try my best to get the next one out faster, kay?
Click the review button. You know you wanna ;)