Stan's eyes fluttered open, his head throbbing with the aftermath of the merciless blow that had rendered him unconscious. Consciousness slowly seeped back into his senses, like a fog lifting from a foggy harbor. The realization of what had transpired hit him like a ton of bricks – Trent had landed a devastating punch that had sent him reeling into darkness.
As his awareness resurfaced, Stan found himself lying in an unfamiliar place. It took an embarrassingly long time for the realization to sink in: he was in Kyle's room.
Argh God, my head! How did I even get here?
As Stan's senses slowly sharpened, he heard the creak of the door opening. Turning his gaze, he saw Kyle entering the room.
"Dude! You're awake! Is your brain still working? How many fingers am I holding up?" Kyle raised his hands and shoved both his middle fingers into Stan's face. "You have to have at least a little brain damage. You were out cold for like two hours."
"Well, I'm pretty sure my brain still works, though," Stan mumbled, his head hurt so fucking much. He kind of wanted to cry. He put his hands to his head, pressing his palms into his forehead. He was so tired. Then he realized something. "I was out for two hours?! That's insane! What time is it?"
"It's 6 pm," Kyle said. "We're meeting at Cartman's in one hour."
"Alright cool. Wake me up, when we have to leave." Stan mumbled and shifted his entire body so he could lie on his side.
"Dude, you can't just go to sleep. You just woke up and…"
Kyle kept talking but Stan was already too far gone into the depths of unconsciousness to hear him, at a certain point you just have to start tuning Kyle out. He just talks so damn much.
Stan opened his eyes again, this time because he felt Kyle's hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him. His head was already violently pounding and being shaken only made it worse.
"Come on, just wake me up when it's time to leave. Please!"
He batted his arm out, hitting Kyle ever so lightly with his hand. It could barely even be called a hit; it was more akin to having a small fawn sniff you with its little nose. Kyle sighed.
"C'mon Stan, it is time to leave. It was time to leave 10 minutes ago."
What?
Stan looked over at the clock, hanging on Kyle's bedroom wall. Shit, it's 6:55 pm already?! I blinked and then an hour passed by like that?
"Alright, let's go then" Stan swung his feet over the edge of the bed and tried to stand up, just to immediately fall forward. Kyle thankfully caught him in time. Stan tried to stand back up again, successfully this time.
Cartman thankfully lived pretty close by, so walking couldn't take too long, even if Stan was stumbling over himself the entire way there.
"Oh, fuck me! I just realized something!" Stan exclaimed. Today was seriously not his day.
"What?" Kyle asked. "What's wrong?"
"I have a shift at work tonight, I totally forgot!" Stan groaned "I can't work while I'm like this!"
Stan worked as a lifeguard at South Park's new indoor swimming pool. It was a pretty nice job if not a little boring. The building the swimming pool was in was placed right next to Stark's Pond, and it had a long row of windows facing the famous pond. It was all around a pretty nice sight to look at while working, and therefore also a pretty nice place to work. Besides, the lifeguards got to use the swimming pool for free, so that was also a nice bonus. Still, it would be nice if he didn't have to go patrolling around the actual pond. It was a relatively new part of the job that had been added last year when the Pond Boy incident happened.
Unfortunately, Stan was not in the right state to go around telling kids not to run on the slippery floor. In fact, right now, he felt more like emptying his stomach out on the side of the road. And he definitely would not be able to save someone who was drowning.
"Well then, just text Tweek and ask him to take your shift." Kyle was really smart. He really had a solution for every problem in the world. "He'll definitely say yes if you tell him you're not feeling well."
"Okay thanks, I'll do that."
Stand fished his phone out of his pocket, opened his contacts, found Tweek, and started trying to type. But as he did so, his thoughts kept getting jumbled in his head and the letters kept seemingly jumping around the screen. The screen, which was way too bright and was starting to make his headache worse.
"I think I'll just call him."
Stan held the phone to his ear with his left hand, while Kyle was pulling him along by his right hand. The phone rang once… twice… thrice…
"Hello? Is everything okay?" Tweek's voice was just as concerned as usual
"Hey Tweeker" Stan mumbled, there was a slight slur to his speech. "I really need you to take my 8 pm shift tonight."
Stan kind of fumbled over his words. His nausea was growing by the second.
"Gah-… are you drunk?" Tweek asked. "You sound kind of drunk"
"Can you just take my shift, please? I think I'm gonna puke."
Stan quickly turned away from Kyle, obviously wanting keep to Kyle out of the splash zone. Stan had eggs and toast for breakfast that morning, and he had a sandwich for lunch, but you definitely wouldn't be able to tell from looking at the disgusting mess he had just made on Miss Cartman's front lawn.
Kyle took the phone from Stan, and started speaking into it: "Stan got messed up pretty bad earlier, I think he has a concussion. Won't you just please take his shift?"
There was a small beat of silence, then Kyle muttered a small "Thank you." into the phone. He hung up and gave the phone back to Stan. "Tweek's taking your shift tonight along with the shifts you have next week. Consider yourself lucky."
"Thank you"
Stan was still bent over Cartman's front lawn. Kyle started rubbing circles into his back.
"Don't thank me, thank Tweek"
They stood like that for a little longer, waiting until they were confident that Stan had run out of vomit.
"Stan, is this even ethical?" Kyle's voice was low and quiet, his words were hesitant. "I mean… like… are we dooming Craig to be in an abusive relationship?"
"Huh?" Stan was not in the right mindset for Kyle's deep ethical debates right now. "I'm not picking up, what you're putting down."
"Look at yourself, Stan," Kyle said. "Trent punched you and now you're a mess vomiting all over Cartman's lawn. If he was willing to just attack you unprovoked, what kind of things do you think he'd do to his boyfriend?"
Stan hadn't thought about it that way. In his defense, he wasn't exactly in the right condition to think about anything.
"Nah," Stan said a little too loudly, it made his head hurt more. "I mean, Trent hates me, right? That's why he attacked me. He wouldn't do that to someone he loves or even likes."
"I don't know, Stan" Kyle said. Stan looked up at him, his face was hard to read. "Also, Trent says to never, ever call him 'dog' again."
"Noted."
They kept standing like that for a little while longer. In an attempt to calm his nerves and dull his pain, Stan looked up at the sky. The sun was starting to set, painting the sky with an array of beautiful colors. The once-vibrant blue had transformed into a breathtaking tapestry of warm oranges, soothing reds, and gentle purples, casting a mesmerizing glow upon the world. As he stood beneath the vast canvas of the sky, Stan couldn't help but feel ever so small. He was but an infinitesimal being in the boundless universe of existence.
The only thing keeping him grounded in reality was Kyle's hand rubbing circles on his back, dulling the waves of aching in his head. Maybe he was ready to go inside now.
"Argh, gross, did you puke on my lawn!" Eric's voice roared in front of him. "You fucking asshole, Stan!"
Thanks, asshole, now my head hurts even more than it did before!
"Shut the FUCK UP, CARTMAN!" Kyle yelled
Oh God, Kyle, please stop yelling! Please, lord, have mercy!
"Nuh-uh, you shut up, heathen!" Cartman was still so fucking loud, poor Stan thought his head might explode. "You have some hardcore audacity; showing up late and then throwing up on my front lawn! Are you seriously fucking drunk, Stan?"
Kyle's expression softened and so did his voice. "No, he's not drunk, he's concussed. Didn't Kenny tell you? Trent knocked him out earlier."
Eric's whole demeanor softened as well and he quickly approached the two. "Shit, I'm so sorry for yelling. Are you okay?"
Stan looked at Cartman, trying to form a sentence in his head. He could feel himself losing balance, his legs felt really heavy all of a sudden. Eric placed his hands on Stan's shoulders holding him up. Stan opened his mouth and tried to speak, hoping the words would just spill out, unfortunately, no words spilled out, just another round of vomit. This time you could definitely tell that Stan had eaten a sandwich. The half-digested pieces of sandwich splashed on the ground and a few drops got on Cartman's shoes.
"Gross, dude" Eric mumbled. "Let's just get you inside."
Cartman picked up him and took him into his house. He carefully walked up the stairs, making sure he wasn't moving too quickly, so as to avoid making Stan feel even worse. The gesture was much appreciated.
They entered Eric's room, where Kenny and Trent were already waiting. Kenny was sitting on the floor and Trent was in Cartman's office chair in front of his desk. He was sprawled out over the chair, making sure he took up as much space as possible.
Eric took Stan over to his bed and let him sit on it. Kyle went over and sat next to him. Eric then disappeared downstairs.
"Did you have a nice nap, Marsh?" Trent asked, his presence gave the usually warm, comfortable room a cold and cautious atmosphere. His lips were turned up in a smile that didn't reach his eyes, making him look like a predator staring down his prey. "That bruise looks good on you."
Stan didn't know what to say. He obviously didn't want to provoke Trent. He just nodded and turned away.
After a little while Eric came back up with a bucket, which he handed to Stan.
And with that the meeting could begin.
"Gentlemen," Eric began "or should I say, my esteemed companions, thank you for joining me today in my humble abode. I have gathered each one of you here with a purpose, a mission that requires our utmost dedication and skill. Today, we shall embark on a noble quest to help our dear friend, Trent Boyett, win the heart of the illustrious Craig Tucker!"
Stan looked back over at Trent. He was obviously not amused, in fact, he looked slightly embarrassed.
"Just get to it!" He snapped, "I don't have all week!"
"Well, alright then, my apologies," Eric said, quickly. He would have usually made some snarky comment, but he wasn't stupid enough to provoke Trent. "Here's the plan."
Eric went to his closet, pulled out a whiteboard, and started writing on it. "The idea is that we split up into two groups of two: Team Cupid and Team Sabotage. Team Cupid will work on nurturing the blossoming relationship between Craig and Trent, while Team Sabotage will work on breaking down the relationship between Tweek and Craig. Team Cupid will consist of me and Kenny. Stan and Kyle, you're on Team Sabotage. Any questions?"
Stan did, in fact, have a question: "How are we supposed to make Tweek and Craig break up?"
"I dunno, that's your job to figure out," Eric answered
"I don't think Stan is in the right condition to figure anything out right now," Kyle said, looking at Eric. "You two should switch."
"Fine, I'll switch." Eric theatrically put his right hand on his chest and lifted his left hand up to his head. "Only 'cus I am such a good person."
Kyle laughed and Stan took a moment to think. Was the meeting already over? Thank the lord, Stan was ready to keel over. His head was thumping like crazy.
Eric turned his attention to Trent. "Alright Trent, what's the scoop? What have you and Craig talked about so far?"
Trent looked a little confused. "He just invited me to Tweek's birthday party in two weeks." Trent pulled a small piece of paper out of a pocket in his jacket. "I think you guys need a healthy deadline. Here's an idea, no matter what, I'll make sure to fuck Craig at that party, and then it's up to you guys to make sure he's available and willing."
They all sat in silence for a long ass minute. Now, Stan was not telepathic, but he knew fully well what everyone was thinking: What did he saaay?
Kenny decided to start talking for the first time in the meeting: "You can't just put a deadline on love, Trent."
"Define love." Trent deadpanned, is he serious?
"Well, uh," Kyle tried to speak, awkwardly laughing. "I guess cheating is a pretty effective way to end a relationship."
Stan was seriously confused now. "But what if Craig doesn't want to?"
Trent didn't answer, he merely stared at Stan with his cold, blue eyes. The question hung in the air like a fog and the lack of answer made Stan's stomach drop and a lump form in his throat.
"Uh..." Stan squeaked out. "My head hurts. I think I should go home"
Eric looked at him, puzzled. "Well, I actually thought we should stay here a little longer, so we can get working on the plans in the teams…" Eric hesitated for a moment. Stan was looking at him with pleading puppy eyes. Eric sighed (very dramatically) and said, "I'll drive you home."
Kyle apparently thought this was the perfect time to interject, "Wait, Cartman, you can't just leave. We're supposed to make the plan together."
"Just write whatever you think of in your little notebook, and then you can tell me about it later."
Kyle seemed relatively satisfied until his face shifted as though he had realized something "I can't write in my notebook, Tweek has it."
Cartman looked like a light bulb had just gone off over his head. "That's great, keep up the good work!"
He then grabbed Stan and they started moving out. Before he left, Stan heard Kenny call out to him "I'll tell you what I plan out on Monday!"
Stan didn't get a chance to respond, since Cartman started calling out: "Hey Mom, can I borrow your car?"
A small second of silence passed until he heard Miss Cartman's singsong voice call out: "Sure hon, drive safely!"
And with that, Eric started driving Stan home to Tegridy Farms. Maybe Kyle was right. Weren't they kind of pimping Craig out? Seemed pretty messed up.