Chapter Text
“With all due respect, sir… I’m still not sure I quite understand the point of this offer… ”
“It’s actually quite simple, m’am… we’ve been holding up as best as we can since the death of our founder, but we’ve had many hardships over the past two decades. Sales have started to drop over the past few years, and we feel like a new direction is what we need. Something to spark the public’s interests, you know? Something that the kids would call ‘hip’, right?"
Suffice to say, this had to be the strangest phone call Principal Victoria had ever received. When the first call labeled ‘Unknown Number’ had graced her screen, she had let it go to voicemail and thought nothing of it… until her phone suddenly rang again, catching her full attention. That one also went unanswered, and while she wasn’t sure whether a third call would be attempted, or if a voicemail would be left, she had a hunch that it would be the former. Sure enough, her ringtone began to sound once more, beckoning her to take the call.
Of course, when she picked up, she had assumed there was some sort of emergency. No one called three times in a row unless there was something seriously wrong, or someone needed help. But… this certainly wasn’t what she was expecting. Leaning back slightly in her chair, she gnawed at the yellow wood of her pencil until it flaked around her feet and stared at the posters in her office, completely and utterly unsure of what to think, or more importantly, what to say .
Still, she had to say something.
“And you’re offering our students this opportunity?”
“Precisely! We’ll launch a contest for the children, where the prize will be a chance to tour the facilities, and a LIFETIME supply of chocolate and candy! Then, one lucky individual will be given an even BIGGER prize at the very end! Isn’t it genius?!”
“I… suppose so?” She questioned, somehow even more baffled than before. “But regardless, why do you need the children to go on this tour?”
There was a brief pause, before the man spoke again. “We figured it would be more exciting for them than it would be for adults… of course, they would still have to be chaperone by parents. I would ask the elementary and middle schools, but I fear they would get into trouble on the tour, they can be very unruly. So, I decided to ask the high school first, just as a kind of test run, and maybe we’ll do more contests with all three schools later down the line.”
When she thought about it more, it did make some sense. After the conspiracy that got her unfairly let go from her position as the principal of the elementary school, Principal Victoria was given the same position at the high school, but she could remember how chaotic elementary-aged children were. The students who had been that age when she was fired had now started to arrive at the high school, and she could barely believe how much they had grown.
“That does make sense,” She agreed, spinning her chair to face the door. “Perhaps this isn’t a bad idea… I’ll definitely need to know a few more details about the contest itself before we start, but I can begin drafting an announcement to put out to the school soon. Would that be okay?”
“Perfect, absolutely wonderful! If it makes it easier, we can even narrow it down to a singular grade if you wish. Less availability usually brings more press coverage, it’s been a popular marketing strategy to use ever since that one little boy’s theme park made a crap-ton of money!”
The mention of Eric Cartman got Principal Victoria thinking about the current freshmen class, and how they had been faring recently. Much to the faculty’s surprise, they had actually done exceptionally well on recent mid-year tests, and raised more money for the annual bake sale than any of the upperclassmen, totaling well over a thousand dollars.
And… while she never liked to admit to favorites, several of hers were in this particular year.
When her cat had gone missing the previous fall, Wendy Testaburger had been the one to head the search, spreading the word and organizing her fellow students to join in until he had been found and delivered to her doorstep again. Bradley Biggle would wave cheerfully to her through her office window every time he passed by in the mornings, chatting up a storm until the bell would send him running to class. Kyle Broflovski had been spearheading a recent effort to kickstart a foreign languages club, on top of advancing the school’s debate team to one of the national competitions set for the spring…
Really, their entire grade had all been doing so well recently. Everyone had been breezing through what was normally a difficult transition year, and it put a smile on her face to see their progress. They deserved the chance to do something nice, something fun , and this might be the perfect opportunity.
Then again… there was still Eric Cartman to worry about. Sure, his worst behavior had been slightly stifled when his mother took up the position to be his paraprofessional (a role that literally no one else wanted to fill), but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still majorly combative. No doubt he would start up some kind of serious trouble with the announcement of this tour.
‘I mean, if Lianne is keeping a serious eye on him, I don’t see why he can’t participate. It’s been a while since his last offence or arrest… and he did raise a large portion of that bake sale money somehow, even after eating quite a bit of what we were trying to sell…’
“Sir, I think you’ve got yourself a deal.” She finally replied, opening her laptop to draft the announcement. There was silence on the other end for a moment, before the man spoke again.
“Trust me m’am, you won’t regret this…”
“For the last time Fatass, I am NOT paying to watch you whore yourself out at Stan’s party!”
God, he could hear those two going at it from a mile away. Like clockwork, Kyle would come stomping down the sidewalk, boots crunching against the newly-salted ground as he shouted down whatever balls-to-the-wall plan Cartman had concocted overnight. Five seconds later, Cartman would come waltzing up behind him, very much trying to sweet talk Kyle into leading an ear and giving him the time of day, of which most attempts were futile.
Kenny had nicknamed the two of them collectively as his ‘morning alarm’, the signal to wake up just a bit more, because things were about to get interesting. And it looked like today was gonna feature a very entertaining debate.
“No-no-no, Kahl, you don’t get it! In all of those movies where someone goes to a party, you always see chicks wearing short-shorts and crop tops, and they’re all drinking and dancing and having a blast. You know what turns those chicks on? Two words: mood lighting . We can deck out Stan’s parent’s bedroom and lay me out on the bed! I’m talkin’ lava lamps, fancy fairy lights, the whole nine ya-”
“Oh, you are so full of shit! Most people fuck with the lights off!” Kyle retorted, before shaking his head. “I don’t even know why I’m having this conversation with you, you are FOURTEEN, and therefore too young!”
Cartman ‘tsked’ a few times, wagging his finger in Kyle’s face, which he instantly swatted away. “Now Kahl, you have to respect that some people start early-”
“Whatever, Cartman, you’re not seeing a dime from me.” Kyle growled in an attempt to end the conversation, burrowing his face further into his coat lapel to ward off the brisk January air. He swiftly took his place standing next to Kenny, just as they had always done when lining up for the bus. Cartman, however, clearly wasn’t going down without a fight.
“Ohhhhhhhh, I get it,” he said in a mock-understanding tone. “I would have been willing to drop it and accept that you didn’t understand because you’re not into chicks-”
Kenny facepalmed, shaking his head.
“But that was before I realized this was about you being a big dumb Jew! Don’t try to pretend your family isn’t fucking loaded with your Jew gold, Kahl, we’ve all figured it out. Why not share the wealth? You’re daddy’s got plenty of money, he won’t notice a little dent!”
‘Why is he even still allowed to RIDE the bus?’ Kenny thought in exasperation. ‘His mom WORKS at the school, she should be driving him!’
As the years had gone by, Cartman had only deteriorated into a more psychotic and malevolent state of mind. He was too far gone to be helped by any therapists or interventions, his ridiculous schemes for ten million dollars and long-winded rants about the world ‘fucking him over’ turning into actual run-ins with the law and stints in the holding cell down at the police station. Lianne Cartman had done her best for as long as she could, before finally having enough and volunteering to act as his paraprofessional, after none of the other paras would take the job.
Kenny respected the paras at the high school for not wanting to get involved. And he respected Lianne even more for stepping up and taking much more responsibility than she had to. It didn’t take a genius to realize she was regretting Cartman as a whole after bending to his every whim for so long… it must have been a miserable realization for her, that she had unknowingly created such a monster.
Now that he thought about it, her ride to and from school was probably one of her only chances during the day to have a little ‘me’ time. He couldn’t fault her there. Still, that meant everyone else on the bus had to tolerate him, so it still wasn’t particularly fair.
“NO, Cartman, I am not taking my dad’s hard-earned money to fund you’re fucking delusions! My mind is made up, so you can shut up, or we’ll walk to the next bus stop and wait with Craig and those guys.” The redhead spat with finality, already fed up with their larger frenemy for the time being.
“Aw, dude, would we really have to?” Kenny asked, really hoping Kyle wouldn’t be that committed to moving if it came to it. Colder temperatures always made him a bit more lethargic, especially on early mornings like this, and he wanted to save his energy for traversing the school hallways. He watched the younger boy glance up the street, scanning left and right for any sign of the bus, before gently tugging his coat sleeve up to check his watch.
Cartman, clearly not getting the hint to quit, shook his head with an evil smirk. “You know, you can kiss up to your dad all you want, Kahl, but you’re never gonna be his favorite. We all know you’re gay because you’ve got daddy issues.”
Beside him, Kenny saw Kyle’s demeanor change in an instant. His body stiffened, muscles clenching tightly as they froze up, and his face quickly turned as ruby red as his hair. He looked like he wanted to retort, but couldn’t seem to force the words out. It was always easy to tell when Cartman had struck a nerve in Kyle, but it was only when their normally loud and opinionated friend was stunned into silence that Kenny could tell he had been genuinely hurt by the carefully crafted taunt. He even felt his jaw drop a little at the audacity of that statement, and then the surprise quickly gave way to anger; it was a low blow, and they all knew it.
The blonde was well aware that there was a certain degree of strain in Kyle’s relationship with his father, that there was a barrier between them that Kyle wasn’t quite willing to tear down. He had never divulged exactly what had happened between them, but whatever Gerald Broflovski had done to earn his son’s ire, it had to have been bad.
The worst part was that it wasn’t altogether surprising. While he would never reach ‘Randy Marsh’ levels of bad parenting, Gerald tended to make some poor decisions in the past, and a lot of them ended up with Kyle cleaning up whatever mess his father had made. Sadder still, Kyle seemed to be followed by a never-ending conga line of illness and injury wherever he went, and whenever he got hurt, or, god forbid, ended up sick enough to require a hospital trip, Gerald never seemed present. If Kenny had to guess, he was probably off burying himself in his work while leaving his hospital-phobic wife to tend to their son.
“Okay dude, you just seriously crossed a line,” Kenny muttered, low enough to catch Cartman’s attention, but loud enough to let Kyle know he had his back. “And you’re one to talk about daddy issues, you actually killed your own dad. By your own logic, you should be buttfucking more than Freddie Mercury. You better take the hint and shut the fuck up, because we’re not gonna take that bullshit.”
To his credit, Cartman realized he wasn’t backing down. He huffed and turned away dramatically, as if to say ‘screw you guys, you’re not worth my time.’ Out of the corner of his eye, Kenny saw Kyle glance up gratefully, smiling in appreciation for the intervention. Kyle was fucking tough as iron, putting up with the brunt of Lardass’s verbal sludge daily, but he was always thankful for the backup whenever he said something that really stung.
And in a way, Kenny knew how Kyle must have been feeling about the whole thing; ignored, looked over, abandoned even. The McCormick siblings were no strangers to these feelings, having lived them every single day of their lives from the moment of birth. The only difference was, of course, that rather than favoring another sibling over him, Stuart and Carole had ignored all of their children in favor of liquor and nicotine, leaving the three youngest McCormicks to watch as their parents wasted into emaciated, living corpses right before their very eyes.
It was one of the many things Kenny had gotten sick of over time — the cracks in the walls giving way to open gaps and plaster dust, mold growing in the ancient air-conditioner and rendering it unusable, waterstains in the ceiling corners and buckets on the floor to vainly catch a sudden downpour — and now more than ever, he was looking for a way out .
His mother was now pregnant with Baby McCormick #4, and the closer their due-date ticked, the more terrified he became. Another baby would mean more financial strain, less room in the house, and more responsibilities piled onto the shoulders of his little sister, Karen. She would be delegated the role of a secondary caregiver at too young of an age, just as he had been with her.
Not that he complained, as it had given him the opportunity to raise her in a better way than their parents could. It just wasn’t a responsibility she was supposed to take at twelve years old. And if he could just strike lucky, find a better paying job or come across some money, he might just get the chance to help their family’s financial situation once and for all. If only he could figure out how…
“Hey, fellas!”
Melodic and honey-dipped, the sunny voice instantly relaxed any tenseness present in Kenny’s body, the feeling akin to sinking into a cloud. And the individual it belonged to was just as gorgeous: wave-y blonde bob tousled and pushed back with a pink headband, dressed in a simple white t-shirt, cropped yellow cardigan and white jeans embroidered with pink butterflies on the legs, she seemed to walk straight out of a dream.
Kenny could name a number of deaths that had struck him down hard and horrifically — felled by bullets, drowning, and decapitation — but nothing in this world could bring him to his knees faster or harder, than Marjorine ‘Butters’ Stotch. If Kyle and Cartman acted as his alarm clock, Butters was the morning sunlight streaming through the window.
“Mornin’, Kenny!” She chirped with excitement, leaning down to give him a quick embrace. When she drew back up, his mouth was glued into a dopey, lovestruck grin, the kind that made her giggle endlessly. “Did ya sleep alright? I know you had a late shift at City Wok last night.”
Hypnotized, Kenny could only nod his head, eyes glazed over. “Uh, yeah it went fine… I slept fine too… ”
Cheered up significantly by the arrival of another friend, Kyle rolled his eyes with an amused expression. “Uh oh, we’re losing him.”
Butters beamed in response, paying no mind to Kenny’s sudden inability to speak articulately. “Oh, that’s alright, I think it’s really sweet! It’s okay to be tired Kenny, working a job like that is hard! Maybe you’ll have some time to sleep during World History this morning, Mr. Hart never pays too much attention to whether anyone is awake or not.”
Down the road, a low rumble reverberated off the house fronts as the bus trundled up the otherwise empty road. Screeching to a stop, the doors swung open, and all four teenagers boarded quickly, eager to get out of the bitter cold. Leading the group, Kyle scanned the seats until his eyes found exactly who he was looking for… who, in all honesty, looked more dead than anything, with his head lolling back against the seat, beanie pulled down so far only a drooling mouth could be seen, and snoring louder than a chainsaw.
Wrinkling his nose only slightly at the sight of the spittle, Kyle swiftly reached into the sleeping individual’s backpack, digging his hand around until he found the emergency pack of tissues, using one to carefully clean any fluid he saw. Once there was no trace left, he leaned forward and lovingly pressed a kiss to his forehead, the snoring sputtering to a stop as the taller boy jolted awake. “Wha?-how?-wha?—”
“Good morning, ‘Sleeping Beauty’.” Kyle said sweetly, sliding softly into the seat next to Stan Marsh, who quickly became more alert now that his boyfriend had arrived. Somehow looking much more relaxed than he did while literally out cold, he quickly slid his arms around Kyle from behind, enveloping the smaller boy in his arms and resting his chin atop his head.
“Damn… what did you use in your hair last night, Ky? That smells amazing.” Stan mumbled, voice nearly muffled by the fiery curls in his vision. He buried his nose further into the voluminous mass that was Kyle’s hair, which in turn evoked a series of playful giggles from the freckled teen.
“Um, I ran out of my usual orange-scented shampoo,” He explained, melting further into Stan’s embrace as the former began pressing kisses into his curls. “So I had to use bubblegum instead.”
“They make a bubblegum version of your fancy curl stuff?” Butters asked curiously, sliding into the seat across from them with Kenny following suit.
“It’s new, apparently. I figured I’d give it a try, I mean, why not?” Kyle said, laughing as Stan only pressed his face deeper. “Anyway, it’s not my favorite, but it serves its purpose. I’ll go back to the orange one when it runs out.”
As if sensing that a nice moment was happening, the mood was instantly soured as Cartman galumphed down the aisle, shoving his way into Kenny and Butter’s seat and pressing them flat against the window. He then glanced over at the couple sitting opposite them and scowled. “Oh great, the Jew found his boy-toy.”
Before Kenny could even blink, the wet tissue went flying across the aisle, hitting Cartman smack-dab in the cheek.
“AW, WHAT THE?!?!— WEAK!!! WEAK!!!”
Mr. Hart had only just strolled into the classroom and placed his briefcase down when the overhead speakers fizzled, filling the rooms with high-pitched feedback that made everyone cower and clamp their hands over their heads. When the ear-splitting shriek died down, the familiar voice of Principal Victoria came through loud and clear, but the message was puzzling, to say the least.
“May I have your attention please? I would like all members of the freshmen class to proceed directly to the auditorium. Again, all members of the freshmen class please proceed to the auditorium.”
“As if that isn’t ominous,” Kenny deadpanned, stretching slightly as he removed himself from his chair.
Marjorine couldn’t help but silently agree. What had they done this time?! Everyone knew the freshmen weren’t the best behaved (and to be frank, they had Cartman to thank for the worst of it), but they had been doing so much better! She really couldn’t help but wonder who the poor, unlucky bastard who ruined their good streak would end up being… no doubt they were gonna be a bit of a pariah in the coming weeks.
Following the flow of students down the corridors and arriving at the auditorium, it didn’t take too long to find their friends. Really, if the shouting wasn’t a dead giveaway, they didn’t know what else was. It seemed that Kyle was thinking along the same lines as Butters had been on the way there, asking Cartman for what seemed to be the second time what he had done so wrong that there had to be an emergency assembly.
“Kahl, I swear to God, I didn’t do a damn thing this time! Hell, I’ll swear on the Bible, my grandmother’s grave, what the fuck do you want from me?!” Cartman asked, going steadily red as he tried to force himself down one of the aisles.
“I want to know what you did so I’m prepared to explain to my parents why I’m in detention or something!” Kyle retorted, shaking his fists up and down while he shouted. Behind him, Stan’s hand hovered on Kyle’s shoulder, seeing as a physical fight would not be out of the picture until both boys could be diffused. He leaned forward and whispered in Kyle’s ear, before moving past him and sitting between the two, effectively cutting them off from one another.
“I’ll send you to a fucking detention camp,” Cartman murmured under his breath, yelping as Kenny swooped in and elbowed him in the gut. He beckoned for Butters to take a seat in the aisle next to Kyle, which she did, grateful to have some distance from Cartman as Kenny took the seat on her other side.
Assemblies were always a good time to get away with some unseen PDA, judging by the way Stan and Kyle had engaged in this practice so many times, but Butters herself had never truly dated anyone, and had never taken part in the experience herself. For some strange reason, she found herself glancing down at Kenny’s stubby, calloused fingers, studying them discreetly and wondering how it would feel to hold his hand. Her own thin, lanky fingers would look very juxtaposed with his, but the image cooked up in her mind made a slight smile grace her lips. Of course, until Kenny made eye contact, prompting her to tuck this little fantasy away for the time being.
“Does anyone know what this is about yet?” Kenny asked once he was situated.
Stan shook his head. “Beats me, honestly.”
“I have a few ideas…” Kyle growled darkly, eyes swaying sideways to give Cartman a long, hard stare. Over his shoulder, Stan looked at Kenny in astonishment, as if to ask, ‘What happened this morning to make him so mad?’
Up on the stage, Principal Victoria was walking towards the microphone stand, brandishing a piece of paper in one hand. When she reached center stage, she tapped the mouthpiece of the mic a few times, settling the boisterous buzz of over a hundred students into relative silence. Now with everyone’s attention on her, she cleared her throat, and began.
“Good morning everyone,” she began. “Apologies for the last-minute nature of this assembly, you will be released back to your first-period classes once it is over. I’ve called you all here today because I wanted to announce an event the school will be hosting over the coming weeks. An event that is exclusive to the freshmen class only.”
That was… certainly not expected. Confusion was present on everyone’s faces as glances were exchanged, and whispers began to run amuck. What did she mean?
“As some of you may know, just outside of the town’s borders is the world-famous Wonka Chocolate Factory. Its doors have been shut to the public for almost two decades now, and the original founder, Mr. Willy Wonka has since passed away.” Principal Victoria explained.
You could’ve heard a pin drop in the auditorium. Not from fascination, but from the sheer confusion among the students. That story was from so long ago that nobody really talked about it anymore. Come to think of it, Butters couldn’t remember whether she had ever purchased a Wonka product or seen them advertised outside of the local candy store, they were so old-fashioned. From the looks on her friend’s faces, they seemed to be just as baffled as she was.
“Ever heard of this guy?” Kenny whispered to the group.
“Nope, got no clue who he is,” Stan said, much more preoccupied with watching a beetle climb up the shadowed wall, a smile gracing his face.
“Of course you wouldn’t know.”
Jumping slightly at the nasally voice, everyone turned around to find Craig Tucker sitting directly behind them in the next aisle, with his entire gang in tow, his nose quite literally poking into their business. He looked much more engrossed than the rest of his friends, sans Tweek, who was jittering so much in the seat next to Craig’s that they could hear it clattering.
“Sup,” Tolkien offered from next to Tweek with a polite wave, being friendly with Stan and Kyle despite animosity between certain group members over the years. Following suit, Jimmy gave a quiet “Hello, f-f-fellas,” while simultaneously trying not to knock his crutches over in the narrow space. Clyde offered no verbal greeting, but he waved with one hand while munching on a bag of gummy bears with another.
“Hey, what do you mean by ‘I wouldn’t know?’” Stan hissed under his breath, turning so Craig could have his full attention.
“This is important and interesting shit, Marsh, you kinda have to be in the know to really get what’s going on. Pay attention, or you’re gonna miss stuff, you fuckwad,” Craig said, interlocking arms with Tweek so he would stop quivering so violently.
Stan groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as he turned his focus back towards the stage. Kyle took a turn to calm down Stan this time, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly as if telling him not to worry about Craig at the moment. Butters also turned back towards the principal, realizing that she too was missing the presentation.
“–but now, after over fifteen years away from the public eye, Wonka’s successors who run the factory are holding a contest, in order to finally allow people inside,” Principal Victoria was saying, looking out at the perplexed gathering of students. “And the invitation has been extended exclusively to all of you–”
Well that just made no sense at all. What would a bunch of guys locked up in an old, dusty factory want with a bunch of moody teenagers?
“–if you win, not only will you receive a guided tour of the factory, but you will also receive a lifetime supply of Wonka products–”
…
Did… did she just hear that right?
…
“Dude,” Stan muttered from Butter’s right, eyes bugged wide.
“Dude…” Kyle echoed, equally struck by the implications.
“DUDE!” Craig gasped, voice rising above its usual low monotone.
“Fucking– what?!” Tweek stammered.
“NO FUCKING WAY!” Cartman roared in excitement, leaping up from his seat so fast that he nearly ripped the dangerously-creaking folding chair right from where it was bolted to the floor.
In an instant, the whole auditorium began to buzz like a beehive as the students called out to one another, confirming that they had heard the news correctly. Cries of “OMG!” and “HOLY SHIT!” were sounded from every corner of the room, the voices all blending together, overlapping and interweaving to the point where Butters couldn’t discern one from another. Any disinterest in the topic of choice went flying out the window as everyone’s minds became overrun with the potential to win free candy. A bunch of it. For life.
To her left, Kenny was barely able to form a coherent thought, yet his mind was racing all the same. It almost sounded too good to be true, but the longer he waited for the eventual announcement of “Got you!” or “April Fools!”, the quicker he realized this was a real deal, and what winning the contest would mean for his family. Sure, it wouldn’t be the most healthy, but a lifetime supply… it would at least be a consistent source of sustenance!
Just over three minutes passed before Victoria was able to reign everyone back in, calling several teachers into the audience and up to the stage in order to settle them down and restore order. “Okay everyone, now I know you’re all very excited—”
“TELL US HOW TO GET THE CANDY, BITCH!”
“Eric Cartman, you will sit down at once!” She yelled, her head whipping in their general direction as Stan tried to wrestle Cartman back into his seat. “Now, I’m going to explain the rules of the contest, so everyone pay very close attention; around town, five Golden Tickets have been placed into Wonka chocolate bars. They can be hidden anywhere that sells Wonka products, and there’s no telling where they will turn up.
“Your job is to get into teams of five, and hunt down those tickets until all five of them are found. If your team secures a Golden Ticket, you will secure an entry into the factory, and the lifetime supply of candy and chocolate on the spot. Only five groups will be allowed into the factory, and the cutoff date to find the tickets is January 31st, with the tour being on February 1st. There are sign-up sheets for your teams and members in the front hallway with further information about what happens if you win. Good luck everyone.”
Before she could even turn off the microphone, there was a stampede for the doors, everyone shoving and clamoring to get to the sign-up sheets first. Cartman, of course, led the charge, waddling his fat ass down the hall faster than anyone had seen him move, and the rest of the group was struggling to keep up with him.
“Let’s go faster!... I am NOT– hey, watch it!– being in a group with that DUMBASS!” Kyle shouted over the cacophony as he elbowed people away.
“He’s probably already at the sign-ups!” Kenny called back, pinned mercilessly against a locker. “We’re never gonna get there in time to stop him!”
Fuck. Being tossed around the halls like they were trapped in a pinball machine wasn’t doing them any good. Butters, being one of the tallest in their friend group (second only to Stan), began scanning over the swarm of bodies to see if they were close to the sign-ups, but all she saw were other people they knew heading in the same direction; Scott Malkinson literally attempting to body slam people out of his way, Annie Knitts helping up Red McArthur, who had tripped over her own untied bootlaces, Jimmy Valmer, standing in the doorway of an empty classroom, and… waving her over?
“Guys, Jimmy’s calling us over!” She yelled, pointing in his direction.
Taking the initiative, the group began to fight through the mob to reach the doorway, the feeling akin to wading in chin-deep water complete with choppy waves. It took much longer than it had to, and there were several near-misses with people barreling past them at breakneck speeds, but eventually, all four of them spilled through the doorway, coming face to face with most of Craig’s gang.
Letting out a breath of relief, Kyle stood and brushed himself off before helping up Stan. “Never knew people would be so interested in candy at this age… hey, where’s Clyde?”
Tolkien rushed over to help Kenny off the ground. “Volenteered to go sign us up… not sure how much luck he’s having with that crowd. You guys okay?”
“Yeah, we’re fine.” Stan confirmed, warily eyeing Craig, who was seated atop an empty desk beside Tweek. He had gently taken the smaller blonde’s hands into his, probably attempting to calm him after the overstimulating rush to get here. Tweek himself seemed to greatly appreciate the opportunity to decompress and relax, leaning into Craig’s shoulder with a comforted expression.
“S-s-so, Tolkien, Craig… wanna t-tell them you’re id-id-ide-ideeeee… you’re plan?” Jimmy prompted, ushering towards them with his crutch.
At Jimmy’s indication, Tolkien stepped forward. “Okay, here’s what’s up you guys. There’s roughly one hundred and twenty kids in our grade, give or take a few, which means roughly twenty-four or twenty-five teams of five will be forming to take part in this competition, depending on how many people sign up-”
“Yeah, I think we can count out Henrietta Biggle,” Kenny remarked snidely. He could just imagine her smoking behind the building, watching the current panic through a window and scoffing at the ‘conformists’ all racing to take part in the tour.
“Good point, Kenny. Now every team is gonna start the search with just their five members, which gives them about as good of a chance as anyone else. But we’ve got a way we can double our chances. Craig and I propose we join forces to try and win a couple of these tickets, one for your group, and one for ours. I did the math, and two teams gathering together to hunt for tickets are more likely to find them, seeing as we can cover more ground–”
“And we can – NRG! – pool our money to buy more chocolate bars than we would be – ACK! – able to get our hands on individually!” Tweek chimed in.
“Exactly, Tweek. We’ve got a lot of very smart people here, all of whom will be able to contribute something valuable to the search, plus, you guys are our friends, and it would be a lot more fun if we all won this together. So… what do you guys say?” Tolkien finished, leaving the floor to them.
Honestly… when weighing their groups options, it sounded like a foolproof deal to Butters. She had always had a scary-good knack for business, breezing through her first finance class when most freshmen wouldn’t dare dream of setting foot into the classroom, so she knew a good deal when she saw one. Besides, Tolkien and Craig were both really smart and thought critically in these situations, so what would be the harm in joining in?
Then again… from past experience, she also knew that Craig didn’t really consider them as friends like Tolkien did, especially not–
“Is there anything in it for us?” Stan asked, not entirely convinced that Craig would willingly work with them. There it was, the legendary rivalry between Stan and Craig. Both considered the other one to be a massive jerk, and they went out of their way to avoid one another.
Tolkien nodded, having predicted that this would be a possibility. “If you guys say yes, Cartman won’t have to be involved at all. He can go and have his own hunt, while we can use my house as our base and look for the tickets separately from him. He’ll never know a thing, and you guys won’t have to deal with him until the tour actually comes closer.”
“If that’s the case, then hell yeah I’m in!” Kenny said enthusiastically.
Kyle, who was standing a bit further back with his arms crossed, visibly perked up at these terms. “Okay, I’m totally down now. I don’t want to put up with that Fatass any longer than I have to… Stan? Butters?”
Butters didn’t even hesitate. “That’s a yes from me.”
Stan chewed his lip, pondering the offer further, before looking at Craig. “And, is there anything you want from us?”
…
“One hundred dollars.”
Butters balked in surprise at the question. “What? That’s all?”
Looking over at her friends, all three of them cringed wordlessly, as if they knew exactly why he had made the request that he had. Clearly, she had missed this particular incident, but they remembered whatever had gone down vividly.
“My birthday is on the 25th,” Craig continued, grinning at their uncomfortable faces as if he had waited a very long time to make this demand. “All I’m asking is for a one hundred dollar check to be delivered by the end of that day. That shouldn’t be too hard, right?”
Kenny shook his head up and down aggressively in agreement. “Yeah, yeah we got you buddy. We’ve needed to do that for a while… don't worry, we’ll get it to you.”
“Good,” Tolkien quipped, happy that their side’s terms had been accepted. “In that case, welcome aboard! I’ll get to work on a text feed, it should be up and running by the end of the day.”
Just then, Clyde came stumbling into the room, shoulders heaving up and down from exertion. “Jesus Christ! Whatever dumbass thought it would be a good idea to let everyone go do that at once was a fucking lunatic!”
Glancing up, he noticed Stan’s crew standing with his own group. “Did they say yes?” He asked.
Butters gave a thumbs up with a big smile. “Affirmative, Clyde! Can’t wait to do business with you!”
With that, the agreement was set in stone. Nine students walked back to class, knowing fully well that they would never be able to focus on their lessons after what they had been told. Everyone’s curiosity had been piqued, everyone clamouring for either a glimpse inside such a mysterious place, or for the delicious prize that came with it. Despite the motives for winning differing depending on who you asked, two things were certain.
One. Not one, single contest participant was going down without a fight.
And two. The gang really should have realized something was afoot when they rejoined for lunch, and Cartman seemed much too calm.