Piss Off, Fatboy

by Tinker_Titan

Summary:

Stan Marsh gets angry at Cartman one fine, Monday afternoon. And to be honest with anyone who asks, it's been a long time coming.

Notes:

Before I wrote this, I thought of the Pete/Stan ship and wondered why it was under rated. Stan used to hang out with the Goth kids after Wendy broke up with him and there seemed to be enough chemistry while he was in their company. Enough chemistry to think he probably would have kept in contact with them if he hadn't of told them all to fuck off in the end of the episode. I also disliked Eric Cartman a lot because he was such an ass, you know? Anywho, I decided to play around and write a story where the boys move on from Cartman and see where their lives go through the eyes of Stan.

Chapter 1: Piss Off, Fatboy

"Goddamn it, Cartman!" 

 

It's not exactly out of the ordinary to hear a person cuss out Eric Cartman. It may seem unsettling to know that a teenager has garnered attitudes concerning anger and frustration on the norm since he was an eight year old fourth grader. Just know that it's justified and fair. 

 

It isn't because he's a fat bastard, born from infidelity. It isn't because his mom sleeps around like a rabbit on a Saturday night. Could it be that he has the cholesterol of a fifty year old man? One that's been eating nothing but bacon and whale fat for thirty years? Not likely. 

 

"Jesus Christ! Here I was, having a conversation revolving how Kyle is a sneaky Jew and how his so called 'people' are gonna die out, and then here's Stan, acting like a big conspirator, protecting his thieving boyfriend. Tch, fag!" 

 

That right there. 

 

It somehow never gets old. The little terror never seems to get sick of this long standing behavior of being a massive dick. His mother never seems to catch on to how to deal with him. His friends don't think to consider that they can walk away from the little turd. 

 

Learning from past mistakes is almost inconceivable. 

 

Except, Stan Marsh has recently started to figure it out. Surprisingly enough, Stan is the one that's had enough. Not Kyle, the Jewish teen that could never go a day without Cartman being his tormentor in some fashion. Not Kenny, the boy that wishes he could protect his sister better and not be bullied for being poor. Stan Marsh is the one that's done.

 

"Shut up fatass! I can't take it anymore! All you ever do is rip on Kyle, make my life hell, and ruin everyone's good time! I refuse to do this anymore. Goddamn it." 

 

Leaving Cartman's house has never been so liberating. His breaths have never come in easier. 

 

"Stan!" Kyle has been Stan's best friend since they were in diapers. Besides Kenny, and maybe Pete, Kyle is the only person that could ever understand how Stan feels about the cancer that is Eric Cartman. 

 

"Dude, are you okay? I mean, yeah, Cartman sucks, but-" 

 

"Are you kidding me? Cartman does the same thing all the damn time, and no one does anything about it in the long run. I just, I don't get it. Why have we dealt with him all this time?" 

 

Kyle doesn't respond for a minute.

 

"I Don't really know. I guess it makes sense that we shouldn't be friends with him. But, it's kind of always been like this." 

 

Stan scoffs at such an answer. 

 

"But that isn't an answer! At least not a valid one. When it comes to Cartman, everybody seems to have the same attitude of 'that's how it is' or 'he's just a pain'. Nobody likes him, but no one wants to take on the challenge of properly dealing with him or just distance themselves away. It feels like, lately, everything that comes out of his mouth is the same thing. Racist, sexist, anti-Semitic bullshit." 

 

Stan's shoulders heave with the weight of his own anger and hype. 

 

"You think I don't want him dealt with? Stan, I get it more than anyone else in our class. I'm Jewish, I get the full brunt of most of it." 

 

"Then walk away from it all with me. Let's just go to my house and play video games, without Cartman. I'm even hanging out with Pete, later. You could join in." 

 

"I don't know, Stan." 

 

Stan can see the uncertainty in his best friend's eyes. 

 

"Things would be so much easier. No being ripped on for being Jewish, no getting left out of plans, and no getting nearly killed on a daily basis. Whenever we hang out with Cartman, all the bullshit hits the fan." 

 

"God, how is it that we've been with Cartman for so long, that I don't remember what it feels like to be normal? How'd we get to this point?" 

 

Stan doesn't have an answer for that. Maybe it was the need for children to satisfy their basic desire for contact. Insecurity? Not likely. Loneliness? More probable. 

 

"Come on, Kyle. There's plenty of stuff we can do without Cartman." 

 

It doesn't even take a week for Kenny to catch on and pick a team. Three days later, he skips out on Cartman's plan to get the ginger kids kicked out of town to skype online with Stan and Kyle as they all plan for a trip to Six Flags next summer. He promptly ignores Cartman's attempts to text and call him after. 

 

A month later shows Stan's house spray painted and covered in toilet paper. Kyle and Pete come over to help clean it up. However, it's more like Kyle helps while Pete holds up a trash bag while texting his own click member, Henrietta. Of course, they know exactly who to blame for the whole situation. 

 

Much to the pleasure of Stan, Kyle's first personal meeting with Pete went better than he had hoped. 

 

The very first day that Stan and Kyle had walked out on Cartman, they had played Dragon Age II until Stan's friend Pete had come over, as per their original plan. 

 

At first, Kyle was shocked by Stan's friend. The other teens long bangs and dyed hair reminded the natural redhead of the goth kids from middle school and when Wendy had broken up with his best friend. 

 

He hadn't realized that Stan and Pete had kept in touch. Despite being a little sharp around the edges, he found the goth kid to be pretty interesting, if a little weird. 

 

The day came to an end with the three of them watching horror movies and making fun of all the mistakes the movie had made. The characters, the writing, the idea? The teens put right on blast. 

 

"Ugh, the writers and director of this piece of shit are such conformists. I mean, continuing the cycle of the stereotypical female murdered by bad, sexist choices? And macho male heroes that either barely survive or save the day with a plan that stupidly had a no shot of working in the first place? And that knife? Not possible to stab someone in the lung. It's a basic box cutter with safety measurements. These typical cliches with dumb happy endings, man." 

 

Those were the words of Pete; to which Kyle replied, "Uh, yeah." 

 

It was a process of learning for both teens. 

 

All in all, everything kind of changed for the better as opposed to the alternative.

Chapter 2: Dragon's

Summary:

Stan didn't have it in him to stay away. Not from them and not for long.

Notes:

If you read or re-read my previous chapter, then you have most likely seen my note about the editing of this whole story. If you enjoyed the previous chapter, then I have hope that you will enjoy chapter two as well.

It would probably have been a smarter idea to not get mixed up in the world of the goth kids back in elementary school. Stan marsh wasn't inherently goth. He may not have been normal, but he wasn't only capable of seeing the darkness in the world. Did he had depression? Without question. Did he have days where he didn't want to get out of bed? Often enough to say it was concerning. But he had positive thoughts and positive moments. He had an affinity for poetry and capturing certain, darker outlooks on life, but his depression didn't influence his musings to be dark one hundred percent of the time. His soul may have baptized as a child and yes his family had always been religious. He wasn't really the type to worship Cthulhu, however.

He somehow clicked with the four outcasts in his own way, though. 

He discovered an out from a sport he didn't really get the social understanding of. Why did his parents love Baseball so much? His views on the world weren't judged the same way the others judged them. He felt more validated in their company.

He also learned to look at the world around himself differently. Like, the way his father took things too far. Stan figured out that maybe he's where his depression came from. Maybe Randy needed to be outrageous to not look at the world in black and grey. Just maybe.

"Have you guys ever tried the Dragon Age series? I mean, it's a fun game if you like rpgs. I have it for PS4." 

Stan had asked one day while spending time with Firkle, Henrietta, Michael, and Pete. He wasn't sure what made asking them such a good idea. 

Firkle wasn't too into the idea, same as Henrietta. Michael had a rather negative opinion about the whole idea of video games. For him, they were just a waste of time. Pete had a speech prepared, somehow. 

"Such a typical conformist, buying into the hype of spending overly large amounts of money just to find fulfillment in life through the pre-thought out idea of commercial-" 

Stan had interrupted him, unable to keep up with his tirade. 

"You can use magic as a mage and become a dark mage." 

That had them sold, if only to judge it. Three hours later found them elbow deep in the battle against a troll on the hardest difficulty, with Pete at the controls. 

"Goddamn it, Raven." 

Stan was left pretty pleased with himself. 

It's four weeks later that found Stan switching his clothes back to his regular jeans, brown jacket, and red poofball hat; much to the appreciation of Kyle. He felt bad at the time when Kyle did what he could to repeatedly bring Stan out of his depressive funk. He promised to never lose sight of what a good and committed friend Kyle was again.

And if Stan were being honest at the time, officicially leaving the goth clique was nice since it stopped Cartman from making his comments every time the five goths went on their way to the back of the school. 

"Ooooooh, look it, everyone! The whiny, depressed, fags are parading again! Quick, hide your knives, before they kill themselves." 

"Eat a dick, cocksucker!" 

"Emo, fag!" 

It always ended with Pete and Michael nudging Stan with their shoulders. 

"Just ignore them. When our three thousand years of darkness arrive, he'll be the first to go." 

That was a pleasant lie to let himself believe. At least, he almost believed it at the time.

He didn't stop hanging out with them completely though, from time to time. The mix of the goth kids and his other friend groups somehow gave him a more balanced feeling. When he's with the friends he's made since kindergarten, he can have some semblance of normalcy. Playing video games, going to what feels like one of the last arcades in the world; in the busier part of town, and just being basic makes him feel mostly happy. And when he's with the goths, he can have an outlet for his more negative emotions, and more toxic impulses. His issues with alcohol (It's hard sometimes to resist, but he can cope with them), his need to sometimes lash out; he can put it all into either poetry or low grade vandalism. It's only spray paint on buildings no one cares about anymore. And then there are days where his friends all come together. On those days, it feels as if he doesn't have to feel good or bad. He isn't normal or an outcast. He's found that emotional grey area where he can just exist and not have to worry about anything.

Their poetry readings and writings always fell on Friday nights just after dinner. Often enough, they'd even go out of town to bars that looked the other way at their age to listen to metal bands. Then the next day he'd have something planned with Kyle and Kenny, usually a sleep over and movie night mix. 

It was kind of an even mix in his life. When he wasn't hanging out with the goths, he was either chilling on his own or hanging out with his own friends. Pulling away from Cartman seemed to make it even better. 

Last week found Kenny, Butters, Stan, and Firkle at Stark's Pond hunting for spiders and lizards, despite their ages. 

With Stan at the age of seventeen, Stan is in a good place; all things considered. 

Notes:

Have an awesome (insert time of day/night here)!

Leave a comment on the way out?

Chapter 3: Sick Like Me

Summary:

Pete somehow gets Stan to go to an "In This Moment" concert.

"You've never listened to In This Moment? We've been spending time together for how many years? I'm disappointed in you, Raven." 

Stan never understood the way Pete would get so touchy about music. Maybe it's his opinion of conformists. Or maybe it could just be that he has a passion for music. The world may never know. At least not for awhile. But if Stan had to be honest, music seemed like the perfect fit for the goth. When the world seemed to get him down, music seemed to beat through his very soul. He could take a song and tell you exactly what made it powerful and what made it weaker. It was as if his friend had an affinity.

"I don't know, Pete, I just never really got around to it. Pete?" 

Pete is too engrossed in his phone to care about answering the question to his name. Taking a minute to make sure it's the right thing he's looking for, he hands his phone to Stan, a determined glint in his eyes. 

"If you don't like this kind of music, then I don't know who you are." 

Stan isn't always so sure anyone knows him sometimes, not that he'll tell anyone that little fact. Turns out, it's a music video for In This Moment, go figure. 

"Huh, what's this song called?" 

"Sick Like Me." 

Interesting. It isn't a bad song. It kind of sticks to you. The singer is a very attractive woman with blond hair, makeup adorns her skin. The video shows her and her band going a little wild, while mostly focusing on her. Her voice seemed almost broken sounding at certain points in the lyrics, giving the song more powerful emotion.

"'Am I beautiful, as I tear you the pieces?' I like that line. She has a sweet voice, too. What's her name?" 

"Her names Maria Brink. And yeah, she's pretty badass, I guess. It's a shame she's blond, though." 

Stan doesn't understand. How exactly is that a shame? While he never really considered having a type, he can admit that she's an attractive woman. 

"Why?" 

Pete gives him a confused look.

"Duh, blond doesn't exactly scream metal. It's not hardcore at all. Blond kind of says conformist bimbo." 

"Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no." 

Pete and the others may not have been as bad as Cartman, but their opinions could sometimes piss Stan off. They aren't bad people. He could attest to that fact. While they could sometimes be cruel in retaliation, they rarely were the instigators in feuds, turf wars, and disagreements. But still, they can have their moments of misguidance.

"That's bullshit. I mean, she can obviously sing for the genre. And if she writes the songs and music, then she's a kickass songwriter, too. And she gets the job done if the band has such a large fan base. You've been raving about this band for awhile. So don't even pull any crap. Being blond has nothing to do with talent and being metal." 

It shocks him that Pete didn't have anything to say to that. He didn't expect Pete to retaliate exactly, but the look he receives wasn't expected either. It's like Pete was looking at him for the first time.

"There's a concert coming up in the next town-" 

"I'll give you the money, just order the tickets, goddamn you."

Chapter 4: Tastes Like Puke

Summary:

Kyle doesn't like alcohol. Stan likes it even less. Pete detests it.

Notes:

Wow, it has been AWHILE, hasn't it? I actually wrote this chapter awhile ago, but I'm editing this entire series. I may finish this one day yet.

Kyle is sixteen when he first catches Ike sneaking alcohol into his bedroom. He's had problems with Ike before, however alcohol was never something that had crossed his mind as a possible outcome. He couldn't find it in himself to tell his parents. It just sounded like something that would break his mother's heart.

He did what he could to stop him, though. He searched his brother's room often enough when Ike was still at school. That seemed to be successful for a few weeks. But at that point, Ike figured out that he could just hide his drinks in other places. Kyle had a more difficult time putting a pin in the issue after that.

"Lay off, Kyle! You're messing with my shit, man!"

It was like those damn pills all over again when Ike was in elementary school. His mood swings were erratic and his taste in hobbies were less than commendable. His old friends stopped coming around a long time ago and Kyle couldn't say he blamed them.

Stan had told Kyle to just tell their parents, it'd be easier and more effective than tackling the Canadian brat on his own. Now, Stan has always been close to the Broflovski family. However, sugarcoating what a bastard Ike had been wouldn't have done anyone any justice. Kyle wasn't sure he agreed.

Ike never appreciated what Kyle did for him at that point in their lives. No matter the attempts to hide how awful he was becoming from their parents, Ike only saw him as a 'nark'.

Word wasn't silent among the adolescence about Ike. The young Jewish boy that doubled as an alcoholic with a desire to lose his virginity early - yeah, life doesn't ever seem fair for Kyle, a teenager that wants to protect his brother.

Was that part not mentioned before? It wasn't every day that Eric Cartman comes up to you and laughs in your face about how Ike was caught with his pants down in the back of his middle school.

It took all the redheaded jew had in him to not cry out in relief when the school called home about said incident and he was the one to pick up the phone. All anyone had to say about it was that Ike was young and needed a proper conversation on sex. However, the main problem still remained. What to do about Ike.

It was at that point when Pete decided to intervene. Although Pete had been on good terms with Kyle since he came into his life, they weren't ever exactly considered good friends. In fact, the action he had taken surprised Kyle; it surprised his whole family.

Shock wasn't all that went around. Anger came with it. Anger from Kyle toward Pete since he went behind his back. Anger from his father for not noticing. But, worst of all, anger from his mother from keeping everything in the dark.

Pete told their parents.

The very night everything came to light, chaos broke free in the Broflovski household. The shouting could be heard all over the street. Some had gathered on the sidewalk to listen in and others had the audacity to carefully look through the windows.

Ike had a fit at the outcome. He kicked, screamed and shouted the loudest, astounding Sheila and Gerald. Their little genius wasn't an angel, nor was he a boy of common sense; forget morality.

By morning, Kyle had locked himself in his bedroom, unable to take it anymore. Ike was grounded, for how long, no one could say. Maybe not even after his act were cleaned up would he be trusted immediately again. His father checked each room in the house, including Kyle's for alcohol and liquor, before chucking everything out. Bottles upon bottles forced their trashcans to smell like a cheap bar, while the sink took the brunt of needing to be cleaned and sprayed down due to the smell from gallons of Ike's shame being poured down the drain.

School was awkward at best the next day. Kyle received talks and pitying glances from his teachers and the guidance counselor. But nothing hurt more than the look of indifference on Pete's face the moment they crossed paths.

"Why did you do it?"

The question hung in the air as they stood across from each other in the schools hallway. Pete didn't need to think on his answer, the bastard.

"Were you going to?" That, that right there sets him off.

"You didn't have the right to do that! Ike is gonna go through hell, now!" Kyle shouted. Despite a slight wince from the volume, Pete didn't seem to care.

"Kyle, you're brother is an alcoholic, among other things." The blunt way he put it wasn't helping his case. Firkle came up behind Kyle, crossing over to Pete.

"What's going on?" His voice sounded out of place in a high school, but, just like Ike, Firkle himself was also a genius, much to the shock of all those around him, excluding the goths and Stan. The only difference between the two of them was that Firkle, again to shock of others, worked hard enough with ease. So much so that he was allowed to skip grades, with no backlash.

"Absolutely nothing!" Turning his back on them both, Kyle made his way to class. He passed by students and teachers that clearly heard the news of the fight between his family and while some students snickered and pointed, he ignored the teachers wanting to ask if he were alright even harder than anything else.

When he met up with him two classes later, Stan told him to cut Pete some slack, having heard from the goth what occurred earlier.

"I mean, if anything, he did do Ike a favor. He isn't gonna get better without people in his life cracking down on him," and Kyle hates him in that moment for being right; for being right and not being on his side.

Kyle is exhausted by the time school is over, shoulders sagging and eyes drooping. When he walks out the front double-doors, Pete is there, sitting off to the side on front railing.

"Hey," the redhead starts. There was a cigarette hanging from his lips, half finished. Half the student body had cleared out, his friends already on their way home.

"What do you want?"

Shifting his feet, Pete readjusted himself on the railing.

"My dad is an alcoholic," he started off, surprising Kyle. Shuffling over, Kyle slowly came to stand next to him, keeping his eyes averted. Having thought about it, Kyle never heard Pete mention his father. Or anyone, for that matter.

"I live in a trailer in a decent park for free cause the owner of the land feels sorry for me. I have a job at my age to pay for food, electricity, and other things that I want all on my own. No one in this town ever knew where my mother ended up and never asked when my dad stopped appearing. Although, everyone that was a parent seemed to love talking about his trips to the bar and his misgivings. I don't live with the lump anymore, but all I can tell you about him these days is that he's still alive."

Kyle stood through all of that, eyes wide and shoulders slumped.

"Why are you telling me this? Does it get easier?"

Puffing out smoke, Pete shrugged, "Depends on the situation, I guess."

Kyle leaned back with Pete, disbelief having weighed heavily with him.

"What was it like, living with your dad? I mean."

Letting out a puff of smoke, Pete gave Kyle a long look that screamed assessment. No pity, just bland acceptance. 

"You have it easier."

Notes:

Leave a review on the way out?

Notes:

I hope that you enjoyed reading this. I'm currently editing this and just cleaning up some of the dialogue along with those edits. I noticed that some words were missing, some words were misspelled, and that certain sentences were unneeded. So, I hopefully made this chapter and future chapters more presentable and pleasant to read.

Leave a comment on the way out?

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Once You Go Goth