The next day, in South Park Elementary, Stan had just entered the school. and transited the hall. Halfway to his classroom, he noticed the other three boys standing by the lockers, waiting for him. Something was wrong. Cartman showed a guilty expression, while Kyle stared angrily at him. Stan walked up to them.

"Hey, guys. What's the problem?" He asked.

Kyle nudged Cartman. "Go on, fatass! Tell him what you did!"

"Hey, take it easy!" Ashamedly, Cartman took a step forward and faced Stan, holding his hands together. "Listen, I… took some pictures of Shelly to sell to that Eighth Grader guy."

Stan's face almost went pale with those news. "YOU WHAT?!" He yelled.

"But then his other guys came and took the pictures from me."

Stan's face now turned red. "Cartman, you dumbass! What the fuck were you thinking?"

Cartman backed away, defensively. "I just wanted to make some money, alright? I was totally gonna split it with you!"

Stan was huffing and puffing. He just couldn't believe how greedy and stupid Cartman could be. He was forced to use all of his willpower to restrain himself from assaulting Cartman then and there, because he knew that violence at that point wouldn't solve anything.

Realizing that he needed to explain Cartman the consequences of his senseless actions. Stan stopped for a moment and took small breaths, and once his anger was in a more manageable level, he turned to him.

"Do you know what'll happen now? Shelly will kill you for trying to sell pictures of her, and then she'll kill the rest of us just out of convenience!"

"Oh, God!" Cartman shaked.

Even now, Stan was already running simulations in his mind of all the ways that Shelly could kill them, some of them involving a lawnmower.

"What are we gonna do now?" Kyle asked, fearful as well. Kenny followed him, tightening his hood.

Stan sighed in resignation, with his palm on his face. "Okay, okay. Just let me think this through. I'll come up with a plan."

"To get the money?" Cartman asked, ignorantly.

"NO, you asshole! To get the pictures!"

"Oh."

During the recess, the boys, minus Kyle, spied on the Eighth Graders in their classroom through the window. They were all gathered around the desk, admiring the pictures of Shelly placed all over it. They were in greater number and bigger than the boys, thus fighting them wasn't an option. So the boys formulated a plan.

While the Eighth Graders kept looking at the pictures, Kyle showed up at the doorway. The door was open, making him visible to them.

"Hey guys, look! It's Shelly Marsh!" He announced, while pointing to the nothingness in the hall.

Upon hearing those words, the Eighth Graders swarmed out of the room like a horde of zombies, looking for their muse. Taking advantage of the classroom now being empty, Stan had Kenny boost him through the window and into the room. Once inside, he collected the pictures from the desk and quickly left, again through the window.

Kyle joined his friends in the outside and the boys ran away from the Eighth Graders' classroom, not wanting to see their reactions when they realized that they'd been tricked. Once the boys reached a safe distance, Stan tore the pictures into tiny bits and threw them in a trash bin nearby.

"Now listen. None of this ever happened, okay?" He instructed.

"Okay." Kyle agreed.

"Okay." Then Cartman.

"(Okay.)" And finally Kenny.

After school, Stan was home, playing videogame in the living room. He had been playing for almost an hour, trying to forget his ordeal about the pictures. It had been two minutes since Stan finally managed to get the whole thing out of his mind and enjoy his game, but suddenly, the front door was kicked open, and Shelly, who had just done that, emerged from it, steaming with fury.

"TUUUUUUURD!" She roared.

"Oh, fuck!" Startled, Stan dropped the joystick on the floor and ran to the kitchen, with Shelly in hot pursuit. Reaching the kitchen, he put the table between her and himself.

"Shelly, what's wrong?!" He asked, agitated. At the same time, he circled around the table, trying to prevent Shelly from reaching him.

"What's that story about selling pictures of me to the Eighth Graders?!" She barked.

Surprise was all over Stan's face, mixed with nervousness. Shit, how did she find out?, he wondered. He then tried to play innocent. "What are you talking about?"

"I found those perverts on the street! They told me the whole thing!"

Growing tired of the cat-and-mouse game, Shelly shoved the table aside and, with Stan in her reach, grabbed him and lifted him by the collar. Stan was sweating with fear.

"Look, it wasn't me! It was Cartman! He took the pictures!"

"But you're with him on that! You and the other turds!" She growled.

"No! When I found out, I put an end to that! I destroyed the pictures!"

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, did you?!"

"Yes, I did!"

Shelly took a time to breathe, and looked down in ponderation. And then, still angry, but with her heart rate slow enough, she pulled Stan close to her face.

"I swear to God, turd, if you're lying to me-"

"I'm not! I swear!"

Finally ceasing her rampage, Shelly let Stan go. He gasped for air, then turned for her.

"Look, it's not my fault. It's those Eighth Graders! They started this whole thing!"

"The Eighth Graders?" Shelly snorted. Her tone indicated that she didn't buy Stan's excuse, but she decided to go along with it anyway. "Fine. Give me your phone."

"For what?"

"Just do it."

Stan reluctantly obliged, and handed his phone to her. Shelly then walked up to a painting hung on the wall, and punched hard through it, making a hole. The wall behind it even cracked with such impact.

"Jesus!" Stan reacted.

She then used Stan's phone to take a picture of the hole, then returned it to him.

"They want a picture? You give them that one. Tell them I'm gonna do that with their heads if they don't stop with that bullshit."

With her warning given, Shelly exited the kitchen. Stan looked around at the disarray that resulted from their dispute.

Better clean this mess before Mom gets here, he decided.