"This is wrong. This is all fucking wrong. This can't be happening," Stan murmured to himself as he nervously walked down the path to the bus stop. When he got there, even that was wrong.
The sign they usually stood by was accompanied by a glass shelter, only the slight residue of graffiti implying it could possibly be from this town. And the people inside were familiar, but yet intensely threatening.
To the left, a boy dressed how Stan normally did, wearing a woolly blue hat, brown coat and red gloves, but who looked painfully thin, with blonde hair poking out around his ears.
Next to him, almost his opposite, a huge boy in an orange parka that could probably be mistaken for a kind of bastardised igloo, only two eyes visible from the middle of the hood, mumbling away in what, from the reaction of the others, were almost definitely expletives.
And to the right, a boy in a red coat with a light blue hat and yellow gloves, frowning and trying to get a little girl haranguing him to go away. When a tiny dazzle of light from her teeth sent the sun reeling into Stan's eyes, he realized this must be Shelley. Even as a baby, she could still hurt him somehow, even if it was with braces and not fists now.
"Hey, dude," the one to the right said listlessly as Stan drew near. "What's up?"
Shell-shocked, Stan sat down next to him and looked over at the strange sights around him. "Um... Kyle?" he slowly piped up, guessing at who was who.
"Yeah?"
"Is it just me or does everything seem kinda..."
"Mmm mm?" the large boy in the middle- Cartman, Stan supposed- put in.
Stan paused, then finished, "Yeah, that."
None of them said anything, but Stan couldn't help but look bewildered at the little girl. No sooner than she noticed him, she scurried away like a fly from a swatter.
"I think it's just you, man," the blonde boy on the end replied at last, shrugging.
As the bus rolled up and the boys climbed on board, another weird thing reared its ugly head. And for once, said ugly head was not accompanied by a second head in its hand. "Good morning, children," chirped the man at the wheel of the bus.
The other three stepped further onto the bus, but Stan remained still for a minute. "Mr... Garrison?" he asked uncertainly.
"SHUT THE FUCK UP BACK THERE!" the driver cried out, drawing a gun and a rabbit from the glove box. Well, at least something's normal, Stan thought to himself as he took a seat.
Looking from the window, every detail in town was off, from passing 'Stotch Bros. Coffee' shop to the Conjoined Twin Myslexic mayor in the window of the town hall (although that could make a little sense in certain circumstances...).
Suddenly, he felt a little tap on his shoulder from behind. A boy with night-black hair and a vicious scowl set into his face. As Stan turned around, he couldn't help but jump.
And then, as the boy spoke, the penny dropped. "Pardon me, Stanley, but I notice you seem a mite uncomfortable. Are you quite alright?"
Stan's eyes almost popped out of his head for about the millionth time that day. Hesitating, not sure what the right name was in the situation, he eventually answered, "...Fuck off, Pip."
"Suit yourself," Pip responded, turning around. As he came to his senses, Stan realized that boy had been wearing the same ridiculous outfit Pip always did. Maybe in this place, clothes really did maketh the man...?
Nah, that's just stupid, he thought to himself.