im not fat!

to: maybe if i ever decide to do something like this i'll graffiti your name in the bathroom stall from: Kano

to: is that a threat maybe i will show this to the principal  from: c-diggity dog

to: what kind of idiot would graffiti their own name on a bathroom stall there's no class from: Kano

to: you apparently, idiot  from: c-dog

to: innocent until proven guilty, dude from: Kano

to: hm thats strange i just saw 'kano was here' spraypainted in one of the bathroom stalls who couldve done that  from: c-man

to: do i even know you from: Kano

< text: > to: die  from: c-dude

to: -- from: Kano

< text: >  to: fuckin jap from: cartman

you’re browsing a section without a label, usually the place where people trade in their random records and shit that doesn’t belong anywhere else. you’ve found some gems here before, diamonds in the rough or whatever. hella tracks disguised by mislabeled sleeves or damaged cd cases. it’s like a goldmine buried beneath a pile of shit, but once you get past the shit stained morrissey singles and beatles tribute bands, you find some shit worth rinsing off under the cool tap of attention. you’re about to move along when some asshole blocks your path. right from the off-set you know this is going to be a pain to deal with. and there he goes tossing some insults that you assume were meant to bruise your ego but instead wax that fucker like it’s an aston martin. gunna take more than that to wound your persona today.

you’re tempted to bite back though, claim that whilst you might be the biggest douche, at least you aren’t literally the biggest in the place. that’s poor taste though, even if it would make you laugh. “guess i’m not a big enough douche to actually work here though. my douchness must be out of whack.” you bring your arms to fold over your chest. “first of all why the fuck should i even bother? like i said, not douchey enough to work here. secondly, i only give out musical education to worthy students. you’re looking for a slick sound? then you’re just gunna have to sweeten the deal here.” but the kid’s interesting… in some probably racist way, so you add a little more.

"Bother because you're a fucking pathetic highschool drop out who needs connections to someone who can get your dumb ass a job. Maybe I'm the son of a rich politician. I wouldn't want most of your musical education anywaaaayyyyyy, you'd probably just show me a bunch of underground bullshit that makes my weiner shrivel up with every listen until it's like a turtle in it's shell. I mean, that's what yours is like, right? Actually, don't tell me, I don't give a shit about your dick, like, at all. Actually, I don't give a shit about you or anything you say in general, because you're beneath me and worth just as much as the dog shit I stepped on a few weeks ago. The dog shit probably has better fashion sense, though, faggot."

"The way I talk is perfectly normal, thank you very much. Dunno what your problem is, because as far as I know you’re the only one who’s ever made any sort of deal about it.” Between the rain and this kid, Wheatley’s temper was rising faster than he could manage to control. He shuffled the papers in is arms, looking down to them to make sure he hadn’t gotten any of them too wet, before squinting back down at the kid through rain-fogged glasses.

"You know I could make plenty of comments about your voice, sounds like— like a horde of little monkeys screaming at each other, that’s what it sounds like. And you know what? If I had an umbrella, I would still have the common courtesy to at least share it, or something! Wouldn’t even have to give it away!” 

"Alrighty. Do it. Make all of the jokes you wyyyyaaant, I won't take any of them seriously when you're talkin' with that dumb fucking accent. Hm? Could you repeat that? I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you, I was too focused on staring at your rotting teeth while you flabbed your jaw to and fro. Sorry, this umbrella only stands up for one man, I don't make the rules. Oh, wait, I do! Hahahahahaha!!"

Late. Again.

Really, this shouldn’t have been a surprise at all. He was always late for everything. It was a miracle he hadn’t been fired from his last job a mere week after he had been (begrudgingly) accepted. Five minutes late, on the nose, every day. Even when he made not to leave five minutes earlier, he still was five minutes late. Remarkable, really.

Anyway, about not being fired from that last job a week in? It was about two months, actually. Two months and three days after he was hired that he was fired from that meager mailroom job, not that anyone was counting. Something about being a general nuisance in the workplace…? He didn’t really remember.

But today was supposed to be the day he turned things around, got a new job— a real job, something important. With his head held high and his arms filled with applications, he had been so ready to start his new search for employment… If only he hadn’t just barely missed the bus by mere seconds. Out of breath and defeated, he slumped onto the ‘bus stop’ signpost. “Incredible,” he groaned inwardly, looking up at the sky, which  had grown ominous in its dark grey tones. Funny, could have sworn it was sunny when he had left—

A drip of water to the forehead interrupted his thoughts. Then another, and another, until soon enough his glasses and face were splattered with fat raindrops. No doubt the neatly filled-out applications were bound to get soaked as well. With a yelp, he curled himself up around the papers in a desperate attempt to shield them from the downpour.

Yep, this sure was a good day! He had just impressed a group of poverty-stricken kids at his brand new school with his brand new iPhone, aha! They were sooo jealous, it brought according joy to Cartman's dark, dark soul. He even offered to let one of them borrow it, before laughing in their face the next second, hell, he felt a little aroused when he saw the hope drain from their eyes. Oops.

He really was enjoying this brand new environment, and so far everyone was enjoying his presence, too! I mean, why wouldn't they? He was a handsome genius with the fanciest new phone in town! Everyone on the whole planet should love him! And he wouldn't stop until they did. Love was all he deserved. Although he did enjoy people fearing him, too. It brought a good ounce of happiness to him to know that someone out there was chilled to the bone just at the mere mention of him.

Woah, all of those ecstasy-laced thoughts were really distracting him from the case at hand. Wait, he actually had no objective right now, he just wanted to let this bus take him wherever, maybe he'd find a restaurant, he didn't know and he didn't care. Bus stops just felt right to him for reasons unknown, even if he was feeling a bit lonely.