"Hey, Councillor," Kyle chirped.
"Hey, Chef," Stan said at the same time.
"Wait... what did you say?" both of them asked in unison. "Why are we talking at exactly the same time?"
Predictably, Stan started cracking up again. "Listen, Chef... Councillor... I don't fucking know, guy with a sweet beard! Something is very wrong here!"
"Weird?" Councillor moved out from behind the desk, clad in the same green shirt as Mrs McDaniels from earlier. "Well, tell me all about it. After all, I am a professional psychologist..."
"NO!" Stan yelled deleriously. "You're not! You're a chef who can hardly cook and is obsessed with singing about making sweet love and never really gets to do any!"
Both Kyle and Councillor looked perplexed at him. "You saying Councillor's a fraud?" Kyle frowned.
"Yeah, who told y- I mean, why'd you think I'm not a professional?" Councillor added. "And besides, I'm celibate."
Stan blinked. "Don't we all celibate sometimes?"
"God damn it, children! It means I never have sex!"
At this, Stan just cracked. He dropped to his knees and let out a blood-curdling, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Looking bewildered at each other, Kyle and Councillor shrugged.
As the confused and desperate boy in front of them broke down in tears, Kyle turned to Councillor and asked quietly, "Dude, are you a professional?"
On the playground, Stan couldn't even find the will to mess around with the others, instead sitting under a tree watching them.
His mind was just so distracted. Seeing a mumbling Cartman running around instructing them in a squeak that sounded like a castrated hamster didn't even raise a smile from him.
Suddenly, as if he needed another example of how screwed up this world was, a blonde girl came up in a very familiar outfit. As he looked up, trying to prepare himself for the inevitable, he just tried to imagine he might not be wrong.
He looked from the ground up to the top of her head- past the black shoes, the yellow leggings and skirt, the frilly pink coat, forcing his vision to blur as he looked to the pink beret. He could almost hear sappy music ringing in his ears.
"Stan?" an unfamiliar voice squeaked- not Wendy's, but Bebe's. Shit. As he focused, he noticed her distinctive curly blonde hair.
"H-hey Bebe," he mumbled, trying to be polite and hide his sheer disappointment.
As he blankly stared at the ground, trying to work out what was happening, she suddenly said, "Something's up."
His heart missed a beat. What the hell? Out of all the people who might understand something was really fucked up about the town today, it was somehow Bebe? Seemed kinda... random...
"Really?" His face was probably too eager, although not for the reason he'd think. "What's wrong?"
When she spoke, he realized that hope really had been too good to be true. "You haven't barfed."
"Wait, what?" He looked bewilderedly at her. He only barfed around people he was really attracted to, as far as he could tell. Bebe was cute, no word of a lie, but in his eyes there was just something about Wendy. Like his dad sometimes said there was 'something about Mary', presumably.
"Are you... over that?" she asked, apparently tense about the answer.
He shrugged, not sure if she was going to be excited or bummed. "I guess so, yeah."
She broke into a huge grin, and before he could even react she'd grabbed his hands, pushed him against the tree and started kissing him.
After a couple of seconds, she pulled away and grinned. What the hell had she done that for? "Oh my God, Stan, you're awesome!"
Perplexed, but a little dazed, Stan replied, "Um... thanks..." If he ever got this back to normal, there was now absolutely no doubt anyone would ever get to hear about it.
As she moved away, Bebe suddenly added, "Oh, I think I dropped my glove down there. Could you get it, hun?"
Stan shuddered. It sounded so weird to hear anyone, let alone a girl who'd never shown any sign of being attracted to him in his own universe, call him that. Not wanting to start a fight, he just replied, "Sure."
As he rolled over to get it from between the roots, he remembered what Bebe had always found endearing about Kyle. As he handed it back to her, he noticed she was blushing. Was she... staring at his ass just then?
"Thanks," she beamed, skipping away in a weird fashion. Stan looked over his shoulder; was his ass different in this reality, or did Kyle's mom- no, wait, his mom- just buy pants that showcase it?
As he walked away pondering all that, Kenny looked at him from afar, narrowing his eyes. "Lucky bastard," he murmured.