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This quaint and all important tale takes place at the South Park Wall Mart at approximately four o’clock Post Meridiem on a quiet little Wednesday in March.
As such, this Wall Mart is bustling with middle class and trailer park families alike, looking for the least burnt rotisserie chicken, or the cutest pair of leggings off the Clearance rack. Maybe a new wallet. Some fluoride toothpaste. Some sugar free gum. Some Five Hour Energy shots. A box of 48 bags of microwave popcorn. A hula hoop. An eight-sided cheese grater. Seasons 1-20 of The Simpsons on DVD. A pillow with sequins on it that didn’t even sell during the Christmas season and is guaranteed to not sell even if it winds up in somebody’s cart. Everyone changes their minds about those pillows last minute and scatters them in various places around the store, along with half-empty cups of Harbucks that have cooled off at least five hours ago. Apparently it was no one’s job to clean those cups up, so they just kind of sat there and festered.
There were also random DVD’s scattered about that nobody actually wants, because everybody has Netflix these days, but they pick up the DVD’s anyway because the bin says $3 on it. Can’t forget discount picture frames on the end caps either. People pick those up because they won’t be on sale forever, even though they totally will. Every Wall Mart employee knows this. Every Wall Mart employee also knows that Mason jars never sell, but the Distribution Center in Dallas sends them by the dozens anyway. Why, Dallas? What is your fucking problem? Why do you hate Wall Mart employees so? I mean, come on.
Well, anyway. This isn’t a tale of suck and woe about the horrors and pain of being a Wall Mart employee. Mostly. This is a tale of Tweek and Craig, to no one’s surprise ever.
Anyway, Tweek and Craig were sitting around on the couch at Craig’s house, cuddling and gayming as they are wont to do on any given Wednesday afternoon, when Craig’s dad walked into the room and asked, “Hey, boys. I’m heading Wally World. Wanna come?”
In that exact moment Craig died for the hundredth time in his game and flipped off the television. Tweek was spinning a full cup of coffee around in his hands. It was still the best temperature, too. Not tongue-burning, but a satisfactory blanket of warmth over his cold fingers. Craig shrugged and asked Tweek if he was up for a trip to Wall Mart. Tweek twitched and said, “sure.”
So they piled into the car with dad.
And off they went.
Thomas Tucker always had the radio on the country music station. Craig hated that station. The songs were all the same. Same voices. Same tunes. Same topics. Beer and Jesus were only so interesting. That used to be the only music you could get in this town, too. Now they had a second station with pop-a-roo and ear garbage and dark midis and tween wave and whatever other random crap there is out there. Where that was certainly more to his taste, Craig hated that station, too, because it played like two songs at a time, then had way too many local commercials. If that wasn’t bad enough, Eric Cartman was in far too many of those commercials. Craig heard Cartman’s voice at school more than enough thanks. Country music it is.
So after about forty verses of “Honey Done Blew My Dog and Left Me” and other Beer and Jesus type things, they pulled into the Wall Mart parking lot. Dad got out first and grabbed a cart.
“I’ll leave you boys in the toy aisle so ya don’t get bored,” said Thomas Tucker. “But no funny business. I’ve seen those yow-wees and you’re both too young for any of that.”
“Dude, it’s fine. We heard your lecture the first five hundred times,” said Craig, smiling as Tweek fawned over various Lego kits.
“Well, all right then. See you boys in about an hour.”
So Thomas left the boys to peruse the toy section as he always had. They’ve taken many trips to Wall Mart with dad once they started dating, and the toy section never seemed to change enough to keep it fresh and interesting, except during Christmas, but that was over now. Tweek spent all he had on Lego kits. Craig bought a new video game with his allowance last week. They were both broke, so simply gazing at toys was boring, until they spotted an item that did not belong. And no, by some miracle, it was neither a half-full Harbucks coffee cup with cheap lipstick stains, nor was it a tacky magenta and yellow sequin pillow that no one was ever going to buy.
Spoilers: It was an enema kit.
Now, you have to understand something fundamentally important about lazy human filth in Wall Mart. They often pick up an item in one department, and leave it in another. Why? Well, sometimes it’s an accident. These things happen and are easily forgiven enough. Most times it’s laziness, though. These things also happen, but are far more preventable. Most assholes won’t own up to the latter, though.
Especially the asshole who is responsible for this:
“What the fuck is this?” said Craig, picking up a box that did not belong. It was white and green and some generic Wall Mart brand. “Eee-nee-mah?”
“E-enema?” said Tweek. “Agh! What the hell’s an enema doing here?”
“Eh-Nuh-Muh? What’s that?” said Craig, then he flipped the box over and snorted to himself. “Dude, no way.”
“What?” said Tweek, peaking down at the box. “Why are you laughing?”
“He’s naked, dude. Some cartoon guy’s bare ass is on the back of this box. Check it out.” Craig’s laughter started to pick up, and on further inspection Tweek could feel his grin and the tickle in his chest coming on.
“Forget his ass. Look at his face! He looks like Butters when his parents are done yelling at him,” said Tweek, and that’s what got him going. There was a drawing of a naked man on his hands and knees with his ass sticking up. The artist was clearly aiming to give the man a mature, neutral facial expression, but it tipped ever so slightly over into the realm of making him look sad and pitiful, like his life had no meaning. Like he was created for the sole purpose of instructing sexually active partners on how to properly clean their rectums to ensure the most squeaky clean buttsex possible. Or, perhaps, that he was about to be on the receiving end of some godawful in-and-out poke from an inconsiderate partner, and he knew it, because that’s what he’s lived with every day for the past twenty years or so.
You and I both know this, but Tweek and Craig don’t. They’re ten. All they see is bare ass on a sad man, which is really, really funny to them.
That is, until Craig actually read the instructions.
“Dude, what the fuck?” said Craig, smacking the box. “There’s like this bottle you stick up your butthole. What’s the point of doing that? That’s gross.”
“That’s what an enema is, Craig,” said Tweek. “Argh! I think it’s to clean the poo out of your butthole, or something.”
“But why?” said Craig. “Why would anyone stick a bottle up their own butt? If that hole was meant to be clean you wouldn’t shit from it.”
“I don’t know,” said Tweek, twitching. “I have no idea why, or how people get coffee in there. Wouldn’t that burn? Argh!"
“Coffee? What the fuck are you talking about, Tweek?”
“Yeah. M-my dad says coffee enemas are becoming really popular in South Park. He’s been selling bags of coffee by the dozen because of it.”
“So people are putting bottles of coffee up their butts now.” Craig frowned.
“More or less, yeah.” Tweek twitched.
“OK. Well, I’m done laughing at this guy’s ass now,” said Craig, laughing a little more as he approached a Wall Mart employee. “Hey, I found this, and-”
“Goodness!” said the employee, gasping behind her sausage fingers. “You kids are much too young for that. WHAT are they teaching you in school these days?”
“What?” said Craig. “No, dude. We found it near the Legos. We don’t know what it’s for and...”
“And I won’t teach yeh!” said she, and stomped off with a huff, praying to the Lord, may He have mercy on us all.
“Guess we’ll just have to find where it goes ourselves,” said Craig. “Let’s go, babe.”
“S-sure,” said Tweek, taking Craig’s hand. They were supposed to stay in the toy section, but they almost never did. Not much to look at these days. Not much fun without money either.
They tried asking other adults. One lady screamed. Another lady ignored them. Mr. Slave said, “Oh, Jesus Christ! Thanks for reminding me, sweeties!” and went on his merry way.
“Fuck. What’s the matter with these people?” said Craig. “I’m trying to be nice and put it back where it belongs and they’re all acting weird.”
“Why are you even trying to be nice in the first place?” said Tweek.
“I’m nice,” said Craig. “When I feel like it.”
“No shit, but if the grown ups won’t help us then what’s the point? Why don’t we just put it back where we found it?”
“Because,” said Craig, snorting once more. “It’s kinda interesting.”
“What?”
“That all the grown ups are freaking out. I want to know why,” said Craig.
“It’s obvious why,” said Tweek. “Only people like Mr. Slave put bottles and coffee up their butts. I wouldn’t put coffee in my butt, though. Ack! It would burn! A-and I wouldn’t be able to taste it.”
“I agree, babe,” said Craig, squeezing his boyfriend’s hand. “Anyway. You think this would go where like medicine goes? It looks kind of medicine-y.”
“I think you're right,” said Tweek. “It’s probably like right where laxatives go.”
“Laxatives?”
“Yeah. The shit that makes you shit.”
“Oh god,” said Craig, grinning from ear-to-ear. “I love you, babe.”
“Gah!” said Tweek, smiling at his boyfriend. He didn’t even do anything, but he loved to be loved regardless.
So they kept walking. Grown ups left and right stared at them, mostly offering troubled looks, except for Liane Cartman. She looked down at their box and said, “awwwww” before going about her business. That was when they passed the bakery cakes and cookies.
Soon they came across the medicine aisles, which was right before toothpaste and makeup and all that mom shit. Craig pointed toward a sign that said “analgesic” which he assumed to mean “anal” as in laxatives. Tweek had a feeling that wasn’t it, but also wasn’t entirely sure, so he said nothing as they went into that aisle. They found no enema kits, but they did find Bengay, which was also funny.
“If Bengay makes pain go away, does Benstraight cause pain?” said Craig.
“I mean, I guess he would if a gay guy liked him, but he was straight,” said Tweek.
“Straight,” said Craig, snorting.
“Hehe, yeah,” said Tweek, snorting as well.
“Hey, dudes,” said Kyle, heading down the aisle. His family was on the outside browsing clearance items. “What are you guys laughing about?”
“Dude,” said Craig. Normally he didn’t talk to Kyle, but he was in such a good mood he had to share the treasure in his hands. “Look at the dude on this box.”
He handed the enema kit to Kyle, and Kyle busted a gut.
“Oh my god, why?” said Kyle, finding it hard to breathe.
Ike bounced over and looked at the back of the box, too. “Noh,” he said, and bounced away just as quickly.
“Boys, where are your parents?” said Mrs. Broflovski, wandering into the aisle with her cart. “It’s dangerous for children to be surrounded by so many drugs.”
“Shit,” said Kyle, shoving the box back into Craig’s hands. “I mean. They’re fine, mom. I was just saying hi.”
“What was that you were holding, bubala?” said Mrs. Broflovski, motioning for Craig to hand her the box in his hands. He did so, not really caring how she reacted. “What, what, WHAT?!”
“Craig had it first, not me,” said Kyle. Craig flipped him off, even if he didn’t really care.
“Gerald. Come quick. It’s an emergency.”
“What is it?” said Gerald, and Sheila handed him the enema kit. Gerald saw the image on the back and chuckled, but Sheila cleared her throat, clearly not wanting him to encourage this behavior.
“Talk to them, Gerald. Before it’s too late!”
“What do you want me to say?” said Gerald. “They’re not my kids.”
“But they’re much too young to be experimenting! Trust me, Laura will thank us if we intervene before it’s too late.”
“Mom will thank you for what?” said Craig. He was really, really confused. His mom didn’t care if he saw some naked guy’s butt and laughed. She wasn’t that fussy. Tweek said nothing as he twitched, his palm sweating in Craig’s hand. That meant he sensed a situation about to escalate. Fucking hell.
“Don’t talk back. You’ll just get in more trouble,” Kyle whispered, and Craig gave him a look like “are you fucking kidding me?”
“You see, boys,” Gerald started, but then Thomas Tucker appeared with a cart full of groceries. “Hey, Thomas. Just in time. We were just leaving, right, dear?”
“In time for what?” said Thomas. Then he noticed Tweek, Craig, and Kyle just standing there, all at once chastised, annoyed, and very confused. “Craig, what’s going on? Why aren’t you in the toy aisle?”
“This!” said Sheila, placing the enema kit into Thomas Tucker’s hands. “I don’t know what you allow your boy to watch on television, but clearly it’s giving him ideas he’s much too young for.”
“Dude, it’s just some naked guy shoving a bottle up his ass,” said Craig. “We found it by the Legos.”
“Craig. I thought I told you no funny business,” said Thomas. “Do I have to ground you?”
“What?” said Craig, getting pissed off now. “What the hell? I didn’t even do anything. Tweek and I found that by Legos. Open your fucking ears!”
“Oh my goodness!” said Sheila, covering Ike’s ears. “Such terrible language. I thought Craig was a nice boy now that he’s opened up about his homosexuality, but it seems I was mistaken.”
“Excuse me?” said Thomas, glaring at her. “I think you’d better let me take this from here, Sheila.”
“I agree,” said Gerald, motioning for Kyle. “Let’s go, Kyle.”
“But Gerald-!”
“Now Sheila, Craig is Thomas’s boy. He can handle it.”
And off the Broflovski family went, Thomas and Craig both flipping them off as they walked off. They could hear Sheila ranting from ten aisles away. Once the rest of their audience dissipated, Thomas got on one knee and grasped Craig’s shoulder.
“Now son, I need you to listen very carefully,” said Thomas, waving the kit in the air. “There are plenty of good ways you can show Tweek you like him, but you’re much too young to do it this way. You understand?”
“No,” said Craig. “What does me liking Tweek have to do with that?”
“You don’t know?” said Thomas. “I mean, you would be too young to know. Do you know what this is for, Tweek?”
“Argh!” said Tweek. “Not really. I know people put coffee in it and put it up their butthole, b-but I wouldn’t do that. That just sounds weird and painful. H-honestly, sir. Craig and I just thought the picture on the back was funny. A-and we were trying to find where it goes so we could put it back.”
“Yeah,” said Craig.
Thomas turned the picture over. When he was a kid, they didn’t have pictures like that on the back of any boxes. If they did, though, boy would he and his friends get a barrel of laughs out of this. Bare ass was as taboo as the female nipple back in the day, but these are different times now, and he knew his boy wasn’t a liar. He didn’t think Tweek was either. Thomas had a laugh, too, and got up off the ground.
“And you boys swear you weren’t going to buy this and other things behind my back?”
“We don’t have any money,” said Craig. “And even if we did, I wouldn’t buy something you shove up your ass. I’ll never stick anything up my ass ever.”
“M-me neither!” said Tweek. “Coffee’s for drinking, not for assholes!”
Thomas shrugged. “Well, all right then. That’s good enough for me.”
So he said, though he wasn’t entirely convinced. Craig just rolled his eyes, and the three of them headed into the correct aisle to return the enema kit to its rightful place. While they did so, the boys played an obnoxious game of “what’s that?” pointing to things such as laxatives, poise pads, tampons, pregnancy tests, condoms, and anything else they could to get Thomas Tucker’s goat, just as any normal, pain in the ass children would. Then they went to the register, and Thomas paid for his groceries. He handed each boy a small bag of Pirate’s Booty and told them not to talk about that enema kit to either of their mothers.
Frankly, that wasn’t a problem at all. Enema kits were more trouble than they’re worth, but still. Craig did photograph the part that mattered most right on his phone. He took a picture earlier, and sent it to all of his friends. Clyde responded ‘lol’ and Jimmy responded ‘lol’ as well. Tricia responded ‘lol boys are gross’ and Heidi responded ‘lol i’ll buy one for eric so his farts don’t stink so much’.
“Huh,” said Craig. “That didn’t occur to me.”
“What?” said Tweek.
“Well, Heidi says you can use enemas to clean your ass so your farts don’t stink.”
“Argh!” said Tweek. “No thanks. Some farts are meant to stink.”
“True.”
“You boys really don’t know what enemas are for, do you?” said Thomas, from the front seat.
“Nope,” said Craig. “And we don’t want to know either.”
“Well, good,” said Thomas. “Because I don’t want to explain.”
He didn’t have to explain ever, because when Kenny received the picture on his phone two days later, he sent a gif of waggling eyebrows. Craig didn’t know why, so he sent a middle finger emoji in response. Later, Kenny asked, “so which of you took it in the ass?” and Craig responded with yet another middle finger emoji, and blocked Kenny on messenger. He didn’t like Kenny anyway, so he didn’t care.
What Kenny meant wouldn’t hit him until he was much, much older. Like, sixth grade or so. Tit pics behind the bushes age. Or, in Craig’s case, the Sears Men’s Underwear Catalog that he ‘borrowed’ from Butters’ dad one day. But that was two years from now, and not something they had to worry about in the present time.