South Park
Dip
Ungodly Addiction.
Characters: Phillip 'Pip' Pirrup, Damien the Antichrist.
Rating: M for strong language, adult themes, nudity, violence, sexual… stuff… and a really crappy storyline.
I have a universal Disclaimer in my Profile, so all angry mobs bearing pitchforks and torches are unnecessary.
Italics = thoughts
I sigh, looking pointedly out of the window and steadfastly ignoring everyone else in the room. It's quite tedious having your classmates stare at you. Even more so when the only person you don't mind staring at you – or at least your arse - is visiting his father in Hades. Of course, no one realises that I know they're staring.
It's not like I don't notice what those idiots call 'surreptitious' and 'secret' glances, which are so blatantly obvious a blind and deaf walrus could pick it up. I just don't care enough to give them the satisfaction of knowing it bothers me. Instead, I continue my moody examination of the world outside the classroom, a.k.a. Life. The white snow is falling again, typical South Park.
"Damn it Phillip, I asked a question!"
I sigh, rolling my eyes before oh-so-slowly turning my head and glaring at Mr(s) Garrison. How dare (s)he interrupt my extraordinarily important brooding? I haven't been doing nearly enough lately what with Damien sticking his – uhm, I mean – What with Damien spending so much time at my house. Studying. Yeah, let's stick with that.
"I noticed," I tell the irate teacher, a little smugly. I've missed pissing people off. "However, I fail to see where it becomes my responsibility to answer it. There are plenty other people in here who are either know-it-all assholes, or actually need the marks. Since I am neither, I'd like it if you could – please – piss off and leave me the fuck alone, thankyouverymuch."
I smirk at the throbbing vein in Garrison's temple, before once again turning my head to look out the window at the falling snow.
It's been getting colder recently, I ponder quietly. I'm honestly surprised I didn't notice sooner, but I guess that's what happens when you always have someone draping themselves over you. Of course, technically I asked for it.
I sigh once again, before pulling out my lighter and flicking it on and off absently. After a while I tear my eyes away from the whiteness outside and watch the flickering orange of the flame in my grip. It's breathtaking, how powerful you feel when you hold something so destructive in the palm of your hand. You feel in control, in charge, no one can tell you what to d-
"Pip Pirrup, if you don't dispose of that lighter right now I'm going to throw it in the staff room blender! Now, get rid of it for Christ's sake, before I give you detention for the rest of your life!"
The small flame flickers and dies, and I feel my faint smile fall flat, warping into a devilish smirk – one I learned from the resident devil, of course. I feel something snap in the back of my brain, and suddenly I'm filled with a strange sense of peace. I slowly stand up, pocketing my lighter, and look Garrison squarely in the eye. It's amusing to see him squirm under my suddenly calm gaze.
"Phillip, sit back down. Right now. So help me I WILL send you to Mr Mackey. God knows you need it." Garrison threatens. My soulless smile widens and I throw my head back and laugh humourlessly. I eye him again. He looks scared.
"Now, dear teacher, why would I care? You can't make me go to detention, or therapy. No one can. That's the beauty of America, freedom of speech and Liberty and all that crap." I take a few steps towards the front of the room, striding past the wide-eyed, fearful stares of my classmates.
My own gaze never leaves Mr(s) Garrison, who's sweating and looks about to faint. It's pathetic, really. My smirk pulls upwards into a sneer, and it feels good. I've never done this before, but the peacefulness is making me fearless.
"Phillip, don't you come any closer. Phillip you sit down right now or I'm calling the principal." (S)he hisses, moving behind his desk and chair to get some distance between us. I smirk once again.
"Ooh, for me? Really?" I clasp my hands together in sarcastic joy. "Now that makes me feel special."
"I will do it, don't tempt me."
"Go ahead; I don't give a flying rat's arse what you do. Call the principal, call Mackey, call the Mayor. Call the bloody effing CIA for all I care. You guys can't do jack-shit to me." I snarl, prowling forwards. The pathetic excuse for a man is now curled up behind his chair, whimpering like a five-year-old. I wrinkle my nose in disgust.
I turn and calmly scan across the room in front of me. Gawping, acne-ridden faces stare back at me in a mixture of fear and awe, and my upper lip curls into a vaguely nauseous grimace. These stupid people will never go anywhere, never do anything. The only remotely intelligent ones are Kyle – who got out years ago, he's now headed for Ivy League or something – and Kenny, who dies to get away from it all.
I'd do the same, but I can't come back. Actually, when you think about it, that makes it all the more tempting.
I look around the room and make a decision. One I should've made years ago. I pull out my lighter again and begin to flick it on and off, on and off… If I'm leaving, I'm going out with a bang. Or at least some fancy fireworks.
I take a deep breath, close my eyes and flick the lighter on one last time. I open my eyes and smile triumphantly at my terrified audience. I open my mouth and take a deliberate breath. Wait for it, wait for it…
"Screw you guys, I'm going home."
And with that, I give the room the one fingered salute before turning and striding to the door, taking extra care to slam it loudly behind me. As I swing my arms I realise that I left my bag behind. Ah well, Say La Vee, it only had my school books in it anyway. Don't need them anymore.
As I stroll casually out of the school towards the gates, I wonder how long it'll take for someone to notice that my little lighter – still ablaze – was casually dropped to the floor as I flipped off my classmates. My idle pondering is soon answered by an incredibly girly shriek – most likely from Mr(s) Garrison – rings through the school and out into the yard. I turn and smile smugly when I see smoke pouring from my old classroom window, followed by the flickering orange of familiar flames.
I laugh loudly and walk out of the school for the last time. I may not have gotten a bang, but the pyrotechnics are satisfying, to say the least.
As I wander purposefully down the road away from the burning building, I realise just why I feel so peaceful. Why it is that I had the courage to stand up to the whole room, and then burn it down on a whim.
I just don't care anymore.
When Garrison started yelling at me, I think I'd just had enough. No more pretending. No more lies. No more Phillip Pirrup. I'm my own bloody person and I'll do whatever the hell I please.
And I like it.
**DIP**
AN ~
Hellow
Turns out my next exam isn't for a few days, so I gave up on study and wrote this instead!
I needed a pick-me-up, so this chapter is a little more sarcastic and a little less angsty.
I hope that's ok with y'all...
Anyway.
For the next chapter, I'm gonna need some help from you people.
It's a prerequisite of the fic that Pip and Damien fall in love, and one genius (who knows exactly who she is, thank you my friend!) has suggested that Damien save Pip from something, thus sparking the inevitable love spiral.
Now, what I need from you, my lucky victims - er, I mean, readers ^.^U - is I need some advice. If you could review with ideas on what Pip should be saved from - robbers, perverts, himself - or if you have any other ideas/ suggestions on how this fic should go, please don't hesitate to tell me.
Oh, and Scarlet Wolf?
I'm a Junior. In Senior school. :D (or Year Eleven if you're from another part of the world)
Anyway,
See y'all later!
Zanchev