Chapter 18:

Kenny PoV

It felt as if someone had drilled my skull in half. Extreme, but true. Everything hurt; my eye was bruised, my hand was sore and my body ached all over. But do you know what the most unfortunate thing was? I was the only one of the three of us who was discharged from hospital last night, meaning that I had to go to school today. Whilst both Bebe and Stan lay in bed. Granted, they weren't in the most comfortable beds ever, but at least they didn't have to endure lessons with the worst hangover imaginable.

I had stumbled into my house at about two in the morning, Kyle had got me a taxi home and had helped me to bed. Apart from that, there was very little I could actually remember. I knew we had been in a car accident. Why? I didn't know. I also know that I was completely wasted and that is about as far as my memory stretches. I suppose the only other people who know the full story are the two people still at Hell's Pass, so I would have to go a day unknowing until visiting hours later on. I only had a severely cut hand and a black eye as a record for the happenings, which I'm sure a lot of people will be commenting on when I get to school. Problem was, they weren't going to get many answers out of me...

I was tempted to just skip school today; drink my body weight in water and stay in bed. I didn't know what was stopping me, my parents wouldn't care in the slightest if I didn't attend lessons. But there was part of me which knew I had to stick at it, keep going strong, even though I was unlikely to soak up anything today.

I must look a complete wreck, stumbling into school, I had managed to change my hoodie so it was no longer covered in puke, but apart from that, I had no chance to shower. Therefore, I probably stank of alcohol and sweat and hospitals, which I'm sure wouldn't be a nice perfume for the people sat next to me in class today.

Like the news about Kyle and Sian was a few days back, the events of last night was already the hot topic spreading around the school. I notice a few Raisins girls giggling at me as I pass down the corridor, but it is when I see Kyle's grave expression that I know something is up. He hands me the newspaper; I have made the front page.

"Drunken hardware store employee manages to provide customer entertainment through the bottom of a bottle." I read out loud, but slowly because everything seems blurred. Wow, they were really sensitive with these headlines. "Three teenagers were involved in a car accident yesterday on the road connecting Denver and South Park, following a showdown from employee Kenny McCormick outside his work place. Witnesses claim Mr McCormick arrived at work drunk and refused to obey orders. After being located by friend Stan Marsh and girlfriend Bebe Stevens, a fight broke out between the two boys, which resulted in serious facial injuries. Journalist David Johnson reports that the car was being driven approximately fifteen minutes after the incident, by the female teenager; Bebe Stevens, who lost control of the car after suffering sudden stomach cramps. Further news on her injuries have not yet been reported, but Stan Marsh appears to have serious bruising on his face after claiming he allegedly hit himself with a broken chain from a shopping cart."

"Well... You achieved fame is all I will say." Kyle takes the paper off me when I have finished reading and I bury my head in my hands.

"How do they even know this?" I stutter. "How do they even know our names? It's not like we had time for a quick chat with the journalist."

"They know everything Kenny." Kyle laughs, as if it is funny. I was totally humiliated, I looked like a douche-bag and my best friend and girlfriend were still in hospital because of my 'customer entertainment'. I didn't see how that was funny in the slightest. I re-read the article and some memories begin to return to me. I did remember waving hammer around and collapsing on the floor. I remember Bebe calling Stan and us having a fight but I could not recall him hitting himself with a chain. In fact I remember me clutching onto it as it was ripped off the shopping cart. Yes, it was when I had fallen down...

"Oh shit." I put my hands over my face again. "I hit Stan with the chain."

"You what?" Kyle sounds surprised.

"I remember, vaguely, he tried to pull me away and I accidentally swung it round his face." I groan.

"Have you seen his face?" Kyle gives me a slight shake. "Have you seen what you have done to him?"

"I can't really remember that part..." I sigh and root through the paper for any pictures of Bebe or Stan. There was just a picture of me rolling around on the floor outside the shop, on the front cover. With a smaller image of me throwing up into a bowl after the accident in the right hand corner.

"You're an idiot." Kyle tells me angrily. "You know that?"

"Yes." I reply bluntly as he begins to walk off towards homeroom.

Wendy PoV

There was no doubt in my mind that Cartman would be broadcasting last night's events in the morning announcements. Not that it would matter particularly; the newspaper article had already been spread around school and stuck up on several notice boards. I was just glad there were no pictures of my boyfriends smashed up face on there; I would look like his primary carer now, not the love of his life. Screw Romeo and Juliet, now it was Frankenstein and the Creature.

My thoughts were stopped by the familiar prod of Clyde's finger on my spine.

"I hear the boyfriend is banged up." He smirks, he was supposedly friends with Stan, why was he finding it so funny? God I hated him. I was not playing Godmother if Bebe's child was his...

"He's not in jail Clyde." I spit back. "He's in hospital."

"Probably screwing Bebe as we speak." He hisses, just as Kenny and Kyle enter the room. Everyone shuts up at this point and stares at him.

"Oh yeah, let's all stare at Kenny." Kenny imitates, slowly walking over and slumping down in his chair next to me. He stank of a mixture of sickening substances, I was pretty certain he hasn't showered.

"Good morning South Park High." A familiar voice piped up. "These are the morning announcements and I am Eric Cartman."

"Here we go..." Kenny drones, burying his head in his hands.

"Today lunch is food, Mr Mackey needs to see anyone who went on the choir trip last week and there will be a bake sale somewhere at some point today." He rushes, wow, how informative... "Now that's over with, I thought I would read a story to you all. It is a non-fiction article about events based on a true story. As I'm sure you all know, Harrison's Hardware's was the stage for Kenny McCormick's little show last night. Following in his redneck parent's steps, he was pissed on vodka and-"

"For fucks sake." Kenny suddenly storms out of the room. I glance at Kyle as if to say 'who's going to go after him' and he just shrugs so I take the responsibility.

"Ken?" I call when I am out in the corridor. "Where are you going?"

"I'm leaving." He yells back as I run over to him.

"Ok, well why don't you just go home? Take a shower..." I hint. "Eat some decent food."

"Decent food?" He spins around. "My family don't get 'decent food'. We have to live off charity and food banks and scraps out of trash cans. No, I think I'll go somewhere with a warmer welcome."

He disappears before I can say anything else. What did he mean by a 'warmer welcome'? Either way, I wasn't going to chase him, he was virtually an adult now, he could take care of himself... Well obviously not... But it wasn't my place to intrude.

Stan PoV

Aside from the fact that my face ached like hell, I was ready to get out of this place. I hated hospitals, with a passion, ever since I was a little kid. White walls, white floors, white bed sheets, white everything. It drowned me in brightness.

"Stan! Baby!" My mom suddenly yells as she runs into the room, followed by my dad. She hesitates before kissing me on the forehead, her eyes wide with panic. Apparently I mattered so much to them, because they couldn't visit me last night, as they had booked a table at a restaurant. "What the hell has happened to you? We were so worried! Are you feeling ok? I'm sorry we couldn't come any sooner."

Shut the hell up. "I'm fine." I reply, bluntly.

"Yeah, well I'm not." Dad reaches my bed side. "The vending machine isn't working."

"...Nice to see you too." I respond, he was a complete asshole sometimes.

"You'd think they'd check it was working wouldn't you? I mean, what about the visitors who are here for hours on end? What are they supposed to eat? ...Mmm, chocolates." He immediately helps himself to my stash of chocolate that people have brought or sent to me.

"When can I get out of here?" I ask, sitting myself up and ignoring my father.

"Soon baby, when the swelling has gone down." She strokes my hair and I slap her hand away.

"Is there a bar in here?" My dad finishes munching on his fifth chocolate and looks around hopefully.

"...It's a hospital." I drone.

"So, folks in here could use a drink." He points at the old man who appeared to be dying in the bed in the right hand corner of the room. "Hey, Stan, there's a great chance for business here."

"What, like Blockbuster?" I retort. "Was that a good chance for business too?"

"Oh come on Stan, you've got to admit we had the time of our lives running that place." He exclaims and I raise my eyebrows.

"We didn't though." I argue.

"But we did."

"We really didn't."

"...But we kind of did."

"No, we did not." I finalise and he just shrugs, taking another chocolate from the box. If he could just keep going, maybe he would die from sugar intake. I smile at the thought. Jesus, why was I so psychotic today?

"Chicken wings." Dad ponders and I exchange a look with mom.

"Is he drunk?" I ask her, it wouldn't surprise me.

"Is he ever sober?" She gives a slight laugh.

"Stan Marsh?" A nurse suddenly appears at my beside. "We've had the approval from your doctor that it is ok for you to be discharged."

"Thank fuck." I mutter, hauling myself out of bed as soon as possible.

"But you need to take it easy for a while." She ushers.

"Ok, chill out." I reply, putting my coat on and pulling my hat as far down my face as possible. "I only have a few cuts and bruises, it's not like I'm HIV positive or anything."

"Stan, are you ok with us driving home?" Mom stresses, picking up my things. "I know the thought must be very traumatic for you."

"As long as dad's not driving." I state, warily and they follow me out of the shiny hospital room. Man they pissed me off. I couldn't wait to get home, close my bedroom door and shut everything out to play video games.