Chapter 2: Groceries

Stan trudged along the sidewalk of Birdwell Island, his heart heavy and his thoughts adrift in an ocean of melancholy. He didnt bother to make conversation with Sparky or look in wonder around the area of his new home. Every step he took felt like an uphill battle, each breath a reminder of what he had left behind.

As he approached the supermarket, the vibrant colors of the building felt out of place against his dark mood.

Just as he was about to enter, his gaze fell upon the sign that sat right between the entrance and exit doors, one that sent irritation surging through his veins:

No Pets Allowed (With the Exception of Service Dogs)

Are you fucking for real? Stan's heart instantly sank at the fact he couldn't bring one of his only sources of happiness along with him, his mind a whirlwind of frustration and disappointment.

He glanced down at Sparky, his loyal companion, who was wagging his tail excitedly, oblivious to his master's gloom.

"Sorry, boy," Stan murmured, scratching Sparky behind the ears. "You'll have to wait here." With a heavy sigh, he found a sturdy metal bar near the shopping carts to tie Sparky's leash.

Sparky watched his owner with wide and anxious eyes, the prospect of waiting alone in this strange place filled him with unease, but he trusted Stan.

"I'll be quick," he reassured the dog before heading inside, fully aware that grocery shopping was never quick for him.

Now that he was alone, Sparky began to look around, the unfamiliar sounds of the bustling island echoing around him.

Within a minute, the ground beneath Sparky trembled slightly, causing him to stiffen. His ears perked up as a shadow loomed over him, and he looked up to see a giant red dog approaching with a bounding excitement that was palpable. It was a sight to behold: a magnificent creature that stood far larger than any dog Sparky had ever encountered. He felt a mix of awe and trepidation, quickly getting as far as his leash would let him, hiding behind the metal bars housing the empty shopping carts. Sparky cowered, feeling small in the presence of the giant canine. His instincts kicked in, warning him of the size difference, but he would soon realize that he had nothing to fear.

To add to his shock, someone was even riding it; a little girl with blond hair wearing pink and black clothing.

Emily Elizabeth Howard, the owner of the big red dog, Clifford, also happened to be getting groceries, mainly comprising of snacks for a sleepover she was having with her friends tonight. Clifford stopped in front of the store, lowering his head to allow Emily to disembark. She was around Stan's age, with a bright smile and an infectious energy that seemed to light up the gray surroundings. She was the polar opposite of Stan in terms of personality, her essence completely radiating positivity.

"Wait right here, boy," Emily cheerfully told her companion, scratching his absurdly large head that eclipsed the size of the shopping carts Sparky was hiding by. "I'll be back in a bit."

She headed inside the store with an empty bag she brought from home in tow. Clifford, now with nothing to do, gazed around the surroundings himself, looking up, down, sideways, slantways, until his beady eyes stumbled upon the trembling Sparky.

"Oh, hey there, little guy!" Clifford cheerfully called to the little canine, who responded with a yelp, crouching down and covering his eyes with his paws.

"PLEASE DON'T HURT ME, P-P-PLEASE," Sparky pleaded. "I'LL DO ANYTHING, JUST DON'T HURT ME!"

Clifford was ataken back, appalled at the mere thought of another dog believing he would devour him. "Why, I'd never do anything to hurt you, honest."

Sparky hestitantly lifted his paws, his eyes shaky, but locked onto the big red dog. "R... really?"

"Of course!" Clifford barked back, inching a bit closer to the smaller dog, his voice gentle and warm, contrasting with his imposing stature. "Nobody deserves that. So, what's your name? I don't think I've seen you around before. Well, come to think of it, I don't think I've ever seen a dog like you before!"

Sparky hesitated, his heart racing. "I-I'm Sparky," he stammered, trying to mask his fear but failing miserably.

"Nice to meet you, Sparky! I'm Clifford. You look a bit scared; don't worry, I'm not here to hurt you," Clifford assured him with a soft chuckle, noticing the little dog's trembling frame. Sparky took a deep breath, not entirely convinced but willing to give this new encounter a chance.

"Wow..." the brown dog began to chuckle. "I don't think I've ever seen a dog as big as you before, and I've seen a bunch of crazy things!"

Clifford laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that seemed to resonate through the air. "And you're quite small for a dog yourself! What kind of dog are you?"

"I'm half-wolf, half-Doberman," Sparky replied, puffing out his chest a little, pride creeping into his tone. "My owner and his family just moved here from South Park about a week ago, which, funny enough, is probably the second time we moved in under a year. We actually got to the store about a minute before you and the little girl you had with you did."

"South Park? I've never heard of it before, what's it like over there?" Clifford inquired, genuinely curious.

Sparky's gaze drifted off as he reminisced. "It's a small town, pretty much everyone knew each other. Kinda weird though... and honeslty, a little boring. There weren't a lot of dogs around so there weren't a lot of friends I could make or play with. My owner took me out on walks sometimes but once we left the town and moved out to the farm, I couldn't really go anywhere."

Clifford raised an eyebrow in intrigue. "Wait, you guys lived on a farm?"

Sparky sighed. "Yep, my owner and a lot of people hated it, though his dad loved it. He made it a whole business. My owner got so sick of it he burnt it down, hoping this would mean we'd move back into South Park. Unfortunately our old house had been sold, soooo... we weren't left with much options but to find somewhere else to settle in."

His eyes became a bit more downcast. "This is the first time I've been able to leave my house since we came here. I still feel a bit lonely to be honest."

Clifford's expression softened. "I know how you feel. Emily and I moved here a while back. It took time to adjust, but you'll find your way. Sometimes, it just takes meeting the right friends."

Sparky felt a flicker of hope at Clifford's words. Perhaps more good would come out of this move than he thought.

Stan traveled through the fluorescent-lit aisles of the Birdwell Island supermarket, his mother's text had been simple: a shopping list with all the essentials, but to Stan, it felt like one more reminder of how detached he was from the life he once knew.

He wandered through the store, mechanically collecting items: bread, eggs, milk, chicken. Each item was picked up and placed in the bag with little thought, as if he were a mere automaton fulfilling a chore rather than a boy navigating his way through the trials of growing up. The clattering of carts and the chatter of families around him faded into a dull roar, barely registering in his mind.

As he made his way to the checkout line, he felt a knot tighten in his stomach. The weight of depression was like an anchor, dragging him further down into a sea of loneliness. It was a familiar feeling; he had battled it for months, but this time it felt different—more profound. He was in a new town, with no one to share his burdens.

As he stood in line, his mind wandering off to the digital escape of his phone, scrolling through Twitter, in front of him stood a blissful Emily Elizabeth with her own bag of snacks and a few 20 bills she was counting on her other hand.

When she heard some footsteps behind her, Emily turned around, her eyes widening in surprise as she caught sight of Stan. She had not seen him around town before, and the wheels in her mind began to turn. Her curiosity piqued and without a second thought, she reached back and gently tapped his shoulder, startling him.

"Hey there!" Emily greeted enthusiastically, her voice brightened with genuine excitement. "I'm Emily! I don't think I've seen you around. Are you new here?"

Stan blinked, still caught off guard by her sudden approach. "Do... do I know you?" he replied, a hint of confusion lacing his tone.

Emily chuckled, brushing off his lack of recognition. "No, but I figured I should say hi. Birdwell Island doesn't get many new people, so I thought I'd welcome you!"

"Um… yeah, I just moved here," he replied, barely mustering enough enthusiasm to sound polite. He just wanted to get through this shopping trip and retreat to the safety of his new home.

Emily, however, was undeterred. "Cool! So, how do you like Birdwell Island so far?" she asked, her eyes shining with excitement.

Stan shrugged. "It's fine, I guess." He didn't want to share his true feelings; he didn't want to admit how lost and alone he felt.

Undeterred, Emily continued. "I think it's great! There are so many fun places to explore. Have you been to the beach yet? Oh, you have to go! It's amazing!"

Stan frowned, unsure of how to respond. He didn't want a conversation, but Emily was relentless. "I mean, have you tried the ice cream there? It tastes sooo good! And the sunsets here—oh my gosh, you have to see them!"

Stan was not in the mood for chit-chat. The weight of the move pressed down on him, and he longed for solitude, not small talk. He shrugged, trying to dismiss her enthusiasm. "Thanks, but I really just want to—"

"Where are you from?" Emily chimed in, undeterred. "I'm sure it's really exciting! You know I actually came from a big city a few years ago, and-"

With each word, Stan felt his irritation bubbling to the surface. Why couldn't she just take the hint?

Jesus Christ, how can one person talk so much and not realize someone wants to be left alone? She's like a less self-aware Butters! Stan mused internally. He didn't want to be rude, but her incessant chatter was like a relentless wave crashing against the rocky shore of his mood. He shifted his weight, praying for the line to move faster.

"Listen, I just wanna-" he began, but Emily was already diving into another topic.

"Wait a minute, are you gonna start going to school here? You'll love it too! The teachers there are great, and we do so many fun activities like plays, we even have spelling bees-"

As she spoke, her excitement began to grate on his nerves, and before he could stop himself, he snapped.

"HOLY SHIT, can you STOP?!"

The words hung in the air, sharp and cutting. His voice was louder than he'd intended, drawing curious glances from other customers.

Emily's smile faltered, shock washing over her face, not just at his violent outburst, but at his use of swears, which she heard a great lack of here on the island.

"I-I just... I just wanted to be friendly…" she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Well I don't wanna talk to anyone right now, especially you, so just leave me alone and SHUT UP!" Stan shot back.

The weight of his anger hung in the air, suffocating the warmth of the moment. Stan's chest heaved as he realized the intensity of his outburst, breathing heavily in frustration, his heart raced, and he felt a mix of shame and anger, but he couldn't quite process it as he now began to realize he had yelled at a girl who only wanted to say hi. The anger that had bubbled up within him dissipated, replaced by a wave of embarrassment that flushed his cheeks a bright red.

Emily's eyes were filled with a mixture of hurt and disbelief, and the warmth she radiated vanished like a candle snuffed out.

"Okay... I-I'm sorry..." she said quietly before turning away to pay for her groceries, leaving Stan feeling hollow. As she walked away, he felt a gnawing guilt settle over him. He had wanted to push her away, but he had never intended to hurt her.

After she finished, she cast one more joyless glance at Stan, which only served to further weigh down his already heavy heart, before exiting.

As he placed his items on the conveyor belt, he could feel the cashier's disapproving gaze on him, and he fought the urge to squirm.

He didn't know why he had lashed out at her. After all, she was just trying to be friendly in a world that felt so bleak to him. Stan attempted to rationalize his actions.

She was annoying! he told himself. I deserve to be left alone after everything I've been through. But deep down, he knew that was a flimsy excuse.

Back outside, Sparky was sharing the little stories he had about South Park, most of which came from vents or dumps that came from Stan whenever they were alone. Clifford listened intently, occasionally interjecting with his own tales about the island, his adventures with Emily, and the various pets he had met. They lost track of time as they animatedly exchanged stories, the bond between them growing stronger by the second.

Just then, the sound of a door creaking open drew their attention. Emily emerged from the supermarket, her cheerful demeanor noticeably dampened. She wore a frown that seemed out of place on her usually bright face.

Clifford noticed this immediately and figured something was wrong, as he crouched down with a concerned whine.

"Oh, hey boy," she called, forcing a smile as she approached. "Come on, we gotta get ready for the sleepover." But the smile didn't reach her eyes, and Clifford could sense something was off, as she began to climb onto his broad back with a sigh.

Their conversation had been so engaging that Sparky hadn't even noticed Emily's presence.

Emily, despite her own unhappiness, noticed Sparky and Clifford. She couldn't understand their conversation - it was just a symphony of barks and whimpers - but she saw the connection. She saw the way Clifford's tail wagged a little extra enthusiastically, a quiet acknowledgment of a new friend. She smiled a little, despite her troubles. At least Clifford was happy.

"Goodbye, Sparky!" Clifford boomed, his voice echoing softly. "I really hope we see each other again!" With a final wave of his tail, Clifford turned and lumbered away with Emily.

"See ya, Clifford!" Sparky hollered back, still somewhat overwhelmed by his encounter with the enormous dog. He couldn't believe such a friendly giant existed.

The massive red form receded into the distance. Sparky sat and watched, the memory of Clifford's warmth lingering.

Soon, Stan emerged from the store, looking even more despondent than before. The grocery bag seemed to weigh him down as much as the burden of his feelings. He untied Sparky's leash, and the dog, unaware of the drama that had unfolded within those supermarket walls, licked Stan's hand, a clumsy attempt at offering comfort.

But Stan didn't respond, lost in his own thoughts. He replayed the scene, the brief, explosive encounter with Emily Elizabeth, all he could see was her whimsical, cheerful demeanor as if she came straight from a fairy tale instantaneously transform into dejection and misery.

Sparky continued his attempts to cheer him on the walk home, but his small gestures seemed insignificant against the crushing weight of Stan's emotions.