#program stan

I was also listening to Weird Al songs so here are two doodles inspired by some

It used to be a rather intense topic of conversation. Some people feared space pirates, others saw them as a living middle finger to the Galactic Federation’s laws and rules. Most people didn't care until it was their cargo ship getting accosted by the damn things. Depending on the crew, there may be casualties or may be not if they decide to be so merciful as to simply take cargo. 

Stan Marsh was aware of the risks of traveling through this part of space. As a hyper–intelligent program, he was aware of a lot of things. Though he was still navigating the ship calmly while Jimmy stood by in case a human touch was needed. As if the human standing next to him was more competent than him with over 8,000 hours of inter-stellar flight time.

“S-so… who’s voyage looking, Marsh.exe?” Jimmy quipped with his usual smile.

“Steady, just like the last five times you asked.” Stan responded with calm indifference. “Why do you call me that?”

“W-well, you need a program sounding name. So… m-marsh.exe seems to work? Not d-doing it? How about… Stan 9000? Stan 4.5? Stan the android sent by-”

“Jimmy. I don’t need a program name. I’m a flight and navigation assistant, you may call me Stan. What is so difficult to understand?” Stan spoke with a mild annoyance.

“Were you always a p-program?” Jimmy mused.

“.. no.” Stan softly confessed.

The ship flew in silence for a while after that. Jimmy watched as stars and asteroids passed them by, while Stan could see through every camera and sensor on the ship. Perfect, smooth, and robotic by now. The endless cosmos begin to lose that charm after a while of just flight after flight with no time to rest and explore a local pub.

Until the control room flashes red, and the ship sensors find an unmarked ship approaching fast and aggressive.

“A-active manual control!” Jimmy shouted. As his command, the steering mechanism popped out, and he started to force the ship into evasive maneuvers. Stan had no idea what could be so valuable on the ship, but the pirates were trailing on them. 

Each swivel and turn was met in equal measure until they hit an asteroid belt. Stan could foresee the plan, because it was a classic maneuver to attempt to hide. Though these pirates seemed locked in. The sensors kept track of their signal to show the pirate ship staying steady behind.

Jimmy tries to make a calculated exit, but the asteroids don’t care. The ship was hit, and with it the pirates landed. Stan’s connection told him it was the group calling themselves ‘goth’, though little was known beyond that. A plump woman entered the command centre with an energy blaster shaped into a shotgun.

“We’ll be taking that.” she gestured to the holographic display of Stan.

“Wh-what?! You can’t just steal an entire navigation program.” Jimmy protested.

“Too fucking bad.” She took out a thumbdrive and downloaded his file.

The world went dark, as the program stopped running. The closest thing to sleep Stan had felt in ages. It was almost like the death he found himself craving time and again. A sweet release into the void back to people and times he knows. Maybe his mother is making cookies, maybe his dog is sitting patiently by the door, maybe Kyle left him a message on his computer to play games again. All this complicated inter-stellar politics is a horrific dream of an overimaginative 4th grader.

He’ll wake up in dinosaur pyjamas, in his comfy bed in Colorado, and go to the bus stop. He can crack a joke with his friends and then sit through fractions. He could pretend to be anything but never have the adult consequences of actions weigh on him because it’s just a game…

Then he wakes up, on a ship. Seeing four eyes with black eyeliner beneath.

God damn it, let him have one good thing!

“Hello, my name is Stan. I’m your navigator and flight assistant, based on a real inter-stellar pilot. Where are we going?” Stan said, the script he’s supposed to say for every new boot-up.

The people staring at him look sad and one of them looks deeply disturbed. 

“Do you know the name Stanley Marsh?” one of them says, in a tone of mild worry.

“That is my name.” Stan says like it’s obvious.

They seem to share collective relief. The one sitting in the pilot’s spot, a taller man with curly hair still looks so uncomfortable. Stan can see a pin on the man’s jacket, a recognition for exceptional pilot skills. He should’ve been taken to the same fate Stan currently has… maybe that’s why the other looks so disturbed.

“We’re taking you to, Kyle Broflovski. Sooner the better.” He says quickly, before just starting up the ship himself and going. The only woman among them rolls her eyes.

That name… his super best friend, always and forever. He’s alive? He has to be if Stan is being taken there. That does sound like a relief, to have his friend back and be able to enjoy something. 

“Do you want me to start the lift off protocol?” Stan offers. Maybe if he cooperates they won’t be hostile.