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In It For The Long Haul	By : saiyanqueenvega Category: +S through Z > South Park Views: 3984 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own South Park, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
In it for the Long Haul
Chapter 2:
“How We’ve Changed, How We’ve Stayed the Same”
Chapter Rating:
PG
Story Notes:
Thanks to those who reviewed last chapter, and especially those who emailed me with ideas, praise, and corrections. This story is still an ongoing process so your suggestions can affect it.
Stan’s POV

A person’s 15^th birthday is usually very underappreciated. But to me having my 15^th birthday means that I can do something I’ve been thinking about doing for a few years now. Being 15 means that I can start looking for my first real job. It’s kind of surprising to me that every kid doesn’t do it. I mean, who wouldn’t want like $100 bucks a week of spending money. Especially when that’s money that your parents can’t threaten to not give you!
Yesterday, the 12^th of June, was my 15^th birthday and so today I plan on finding a sweat job. I’ve got a resume already typed showing the odd jobs I’ve done around the neighborhood and Coach says that he’ll give me a reference. So I’ve got my nicest clothes on and I’m on my way to the mall to try my luck...
As I walk past Cartman’s house I see Cartman and who is undoubtedly Kenny because of the long blond hair sitting on the front stoop running remote control cars through a small obstacle course and I head over to say hi. Kenny’s been known to spend most of his summers hanging around Cartman’s house to avoid going home. I don’t blame him either. As I approach I see a dark bruise encircling his wrist.
“Hey guys. Who built this?” I ask motioning toward several small ramps and even a miniature half pipe made of wood that sits on the walkway.
“We built it when I came over this morning” Kenny answers not looking up from his car, which is doing a flip off of the half pipe.
“But it’s only 10:15 now. This must have taken you at least 3 hours to bui...”
“He got here early. Would you just let it go Stan, Jesus Christ!” Cartman snaps back. Oh... THAT kind of ‘early morning’. No wonder his wrist is still so dark. I drop the subject and we watch the cars do tricks for a few minutes of awkward silence. I’ve always felt uncomfortable knowing that Kenny’s dad beats up on him sometimes. But he never says anything about it really so I don’t say anything either. He knows I’m willing to listen...
“I’m heading to the mall. Do you guys want to come too. I’m gonna to pick up a bunch of applications. You know, see if I can get a job.”
“I thought you weren’t supposed to bring people along for that sort of thing” Kenny replies looking up at me for the first time. I do my best to not grimace at the scab that is now forming on the side of his lower lip. “Why are you getting a job anyway?”
“It’s like a rite of passage when you turn 15. And it’s easy money because there are so many restrictions about what they can make you do until you turn 16. I’m hoping that I can get something at the Happy Burger or maybe the movie theater. Plus you get free stuff working at jobs like that”
This instantly makes Cartman much more interested. “What kind of free stuff?”
“Nothing you’ll be getting fatty. So are you guys coming?”
Cartman gives me a dirty look but otherwise lets the comment go unavenged as he picks up both cars and heads back into the house with them. This leaves me alone with Kenny while he begs money off of his mother. Kenny is wearing a red tank-top that obviously belongs to Cartman, being that it’s at least 5 sizes too big for his small frame. He’s also wearing a pair of light grey sweat pants that I know for a fact he sleeps in. But his hair has been washed and combed out and he’s a lot cleaner than I usually find him. They’re all the obvious signs that he’s been over to the Cartmans. But his lip bothers me. His dad has never busted him in the face before, at least not that I know about. Cartman would know though. He’s closer to Kenny than Kyle and I are. I still don’t quite know how Cartman can disregard him so easily one moment and yet be such a loyal friend the next. It’s hard to tell exactly where those two stand.
“You’re worried.” It’s a statement, not a question. But I’m saved having to answer him as Cartman reappears through the doorway waving three $5 bills.
“Mom says this is for you” Cartman says, shoving one of the $5's into Kenny’s hand. “So lets go”
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When we finally stop for lunch I’ve accumulated a stack of 23 applications. After I receive my chicken sandwich value meal and return to our seat I begin carefully inking in the first application on the stack. Happy Burger, which is where we happen to be right now, is probably my best shot. They are well known for staffing mostly 15 through 18 year olds. I’m up to the section on education when Kenny and Cartman slide back into the booth across from me with their food.
“You need more to eat than just that little shit” Cartman is saying as they settle in. I look up from what I’m writing to observe them. Kenny’s tray consists of just one of Happy Burger’s small cheeseburgers, and a small Sprite. I silently agree with Cartman for once.
“I want to have plenty leftover for the arcade” Kenny responds before taking a bite out of the burger. “I heard that they just got in the new Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy pinball game.” Ah, well that explains it. Pinball is Kenny’s gaming specialty, and it’s also the cheapest form of gaming which works out well for him.
I turn my attention back to my applications, waving on Cartman and Kenny when they eventually tell me they’ll be at the arcade. Once I’ve finished the one for Happy Burger I move on to the one for Whistling Willy’s Pizza, and after that the one for the movie theater that we’d picked up on the way. By the time I finish the 5^th application my fingers are starting to cramp so I scoop everything into a folder and head out to find the guys, vowing to finish the rest tonight.
As I enter the arcade the first thing I see is the new Dance Dance game and the Asian kid, Yow, that always plays it. Dancing next to him on the other DDR machine is Bebe, thought by most of the school to be the hottest girl in our grade. I’ve heard that she plays it for exercise to keep slim. As I head farther back, passing bunches of soon to be 7^th and 8^th graders, I see the unmistakable red and blue hair of Kyle near the back at the Virtua Fighter machine. Standing next to him with his tongue between his teeth in concentration is the also unmistakable bulk of Cartman. I pass Kenny at the row of pinball machines rocking the high score as I head toward Kyle.
It’s a battle of epic proportions between the two as they duel it out in VS mode and neither of them has noticed my presence behind them. By what the screen shows Kyle has already won the first two rounds and is about to end the game by beating Cartman for the 3^rd time. I can’t resist the urge so I throw my hands over my best friend’s eyes, nearly giving him a heart attack.
“What the fuck!!?” Cartman takes advantage of the distraction by redoubling his efforts and laying into Kyle’s fighter. But Kyle quickly collects himself and finishes him off before taking a swing at my arm in retribution. “Trying to get on Cartman’s good side I see” he jokes, wiping away the sweat that has accumulated on his brow.
“Dude he doesn’t HAVE a good side, his school pictures prove that. And I totally could have stolen your wallet just now. You were somewhere else.”
“Why don’t you fags go get a room” Cartman suggests before walking off toward Kenny mumbling about being beaten by a Jew.
Kyle just smirks. “He’s bitter because that’s the 3^rd game in a row that I’ve wasted him at.”
“Ah...”
“So how did the job hunt start off?” He asks, leaning against the game.
“I got 5 of the applications finished. I’ve already turned in the one for Happy Burger, and I’m just heading back to turn in the rest. Coming?”
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Kyle’s POV

My parents seem to think that I’m going to someday turn into a gun toting, homicidal maniac. That the color of my hair makes me more likely to suddenly not care about my grades or future, and that the stud in my nose will inexplicably make me into a Satan worshiper. So they announced at breakfast this morning that we need to take a family trip. Apparently near the end of the summer we’re going to Jerusalem, the most holy city to us Jews. Mom thinks that if blue hair and piercings are a sign of my moral deterioration that this upcoming trip will make everything all better. Apparently she missed that whole part where I had the highest GPA in the school last year. But I can’t say that I’m disappointed with the TRIP, just the reasons for taking it. Israel is supposed to be an awesome place to see.
Anyway, once I way done with breakfast I head out the door toward to Stan’s house. He’s been job hunting for four days now and he’s expecting a call back from his movie theater interview any minute, so he’s reluctant to leave the house. It’s fine with me. His place is the best place to hang out at anyway, because his parents are just plain normal. Not drunks, not whores, and not over protective bitchy. When I reach his door I knock and wait.
“Come on in” Stan yells. I turn the knob and walk inside. I can hear Stan talking in his kitchen and realize that he’s on the phone. “– I can make room in my schedule....... yes.....yes....any time you’d like me....Yeah....well until school starts back up......that sounds great! ......Absolutely..... Thank you Mr. Morns. ......Yes, tomorrow at 10:30. Thanks, bye.” There is a short silence followed by a whoop of joy and the pounding of feet. Stan leaps into view from his kitchen and tackles me to the ground laughing.
“I take it that was the movie theater?” I ask, already knowing.
“They want to pay me $6.75 an hour!! Starting tomorrow!! That’s like a buck more than I was expecting. They said that someone else that just started there noticed my application and spoke highly of me. Dude this rules!”
“Don’t forget free movies” I remind him. His grin just gets wider. “We’ve gotta go tell everyone. I bet Cartman will shit his pants. And Wendy will think it’s great. You know how into taking things seriously she is. This makes you more mature and all that crap girls like.”
“Let me call Dad and let him know first and then we can go” Stan tells me racing back toward the phone, practically glowing.
A few minutes later he returns again and we head out. “You know I got some pretty nice news this morning too” I say as we hit the streets, walking toward Stan’s girlfriend’s house. “My mom told me at breakfast that we’re going on vacation to Jerusalem in August. It’s supposed to be for family bonding” I role my eyes for effect. “But the trip will be cool.”
Stan nods in agreement. “That’s awesome. I wish we would visit a cool country for a family trip sometime. I’ve always wanted to visit New Zealand.”
“That’s only because of Lord of the Rings” I interrupt him. “No one even knew that country existed before that movie came out...”
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Stan’s POV

10:07. It seems like only a blink of the eye has gone by since yesterday when I got the phone call. Dad was so proud of me that we all went out for dinner last night to celebrate. Wendy was pretty impressed too. Kyle was right, she thinks responsible men are sexy... hehehe. I ended up leaving the house really early today to get to the theater. I’m wearing black slacks just like I was told and a blue button up shirt that I normally wear to church. I’m not a huge fan of my slacks but I’ll be able to buy some more comfortable fitting ones with my first paycheck. But I’ll be getting a staff shirt so I won’t have to worry about the fact that I detest the blue one. I won’t have to wear it again, at least not here. 10:16. I actually tried to figure out who I knew that would have recommended me for the job last night. No one came to mind. It couldn’t have been Kyle or Kenny, and certainly it wasn’t Cartman. None of my other casual friends had jobs yet and neither did anyone on the football or baseball teams. I eventually gave up figuring it out in favor of getting sleep.
10:24. A car pulls into the back parking lot behind the theater and I see someone with an employee shirt getting out. I straighten up from where I’ve been leaning against the building and wait for the employee to approach. The guy looks to be around 25-ish and has strawberry blond hair and a goatee to match. When he reaches me he extends his hand and we shake.
“You must be Stan Marsh?” he asks, and I nod. “I’m Anthony. I open every weekday, but I also happen to train the new meat around here.” He pulls out a large key ring and flips through them for a moment before choosing one and unlocking the door. We step inside and instantly I’m cooled down by the heavy air conditioning.
“Hand on a second while I get the lights.” I stay standing near the concession stand until everything in the place comes alive. “Now” he says returning, “I’m supposed to show you the ropes and get you a couple of the shirts. Lets get the shirts first. What size do you take?”
“Medium sir.”
“Ugg. First rule around here is to not call me sir. Anthony or Tony are both fine. Sir makes me feel like I’m old or something. The only person you need to call Mr. or sir around here is the owner. But he’s rarely around. He’s got like 15 theaters in Denver and another dozen between there and here to worry about.” I smile. I could really get to like this guy. “So three size M shirts... Oh, I’m also supposed to work out when you should come in for the rest of this week until we do the next schedule. But lets get you into a shirt so we can open this place at 11 ” he says, glancing at his watch. I wait as he disappears again. He reappears with three folded employee shirts and offers me one. “Here. You go put this one on and I’ll throw the other two in the lockers.” Tony points my toward the bathrooms and we part. 10:48 my watch tells me as I pull my shirt over my head.
Upon my return Tony nods his approval. “Well it’s close enough. Lets get the doors open.” As the two of us slide the bolts in place to keep the doors open a familiar voice greets me.
“Hello there Stanley” standing there in the same white shirt and black clip-on tie as I’m wearing is Pip. I stand and goggle at him completely stunned for a moment before it clicks.
“It was you Pip? YOU gave me that recommendation?” Over the years Pip’s popularity hasn’t gotten any better than what it was in the 3^rd grade. I know from eyewitness accounts that Pip receives weekly swirlys from Craig and is beaten up at least once a month. And I’m certainly not a friend of his by any stretch of the imagination. “But why?”
“Well you see Stanley” he explains, walking inside and past me and removing that little cap he STILL wears, “out of everyone in school you treat me better than most of the others. You usually don’t pick on my accent and you never try to beat me up.... And I know that you are a hard worker, because I’ve seen your football games. And you play baseball too if I’m not mistaken. It takes hard work to balance such things with your studies. And you must also find time to spend with all your friends...” He pauses in front of the time clock and punches in. 10:57. “I thought that you would work hard here too, that’s all. And I wouldn’t mind spending time with you. Even if it is just at work.”
Tony cuts the conversation short by cutting in. “I see you know Pip. Mr. Morns mentioned that you had a friend who worked here and recommended you. Pip’s been the new meat around here for the last two and a half weeks, but that’s you now Stan.” I don’t bother to correct Tony about not being friends with Pip as he goes on to explain what I’ll be doing.
The rest of the day flies by. It turns out that the regular ticket seller had unexpectedly quit a week ago and that I would be filling that position. Pip, it turns out, was the second person on the two person projector team. He monitors things to make sure all the theaters are running correctly and in focus and switches the reels after the movie. The first person of that pair is Donota, a Russian sounding girl of 21 with long bubble-gum pink hair that I met when she breezed in at 11:30 to set up for the first showing of the day at 12:00. I also meet Shamise and Tammy, the 18 year old twins that work the concession stands. DJ, Matt, and June are the clean up crew and all college students from North Park that room together and drive here every day. There’s also George the ticket taker, who is 58 and retired. He says he dose it for the free movies. There are also 3 backup people who I have yet to meet and Tony who, on top of opening every morning, works the weekends and randomly throughout the week to cover for people’s days off. I’ll going to run the ticket counter Monday through Friday from 10:30 until 5:00 until the end of the summer. But I’m also expected to learn how to run the concession stand and how to help in the projector room this week, in case an emergency comes up.
I’m just finished selling tickets for the 4:00 movie when Tony comes up and relieves me.
“That was a great first day’s work Stan. I’ll take it from here. Here’s the combination to your locker.” He hands me a folded slip of paper and a small packet. “That’s the company handbook. All of the policies and that crap is in there. I wrote the rest of this week’s schedule on the back of it too. Now head up to the projector room and find Pip. I want you to learn at least the bare bones of how to handle changing the reels in case Donota is ever sick when I have the day off.” He smiles at me. “It’ll do Pip some good to have you around too. He seems like a pretty isolated kid. I never see him meeting friends after work for a free movie or anything... Oh, and make sure you guys get outta here at 5. No sense working longer than you have to.” He waves me off toward the staircase to the projector room.
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I’m not quite sure how it happened. But somehow Pip has turned from an annoying, wimpy, almost spineless, bore into a pretty ok guy.
It turned out that the projector, when in action, was a monster machine that looked ready to suck me in and tear me apart. I mean it was scary to think about. But Pip moved around like there was nothing to worry about. He told me what areas of the machine to avoid if I wanted to keep all my limbs and where to tune the knobs for focus. He showed me how to feed a new film into it and even let me do it myself for the 4:30 showing in the 4^th theater. We’d had twenty minutes to kill before 5:00 and we ended up talking about school. What classes we’d signed up for, how much we thought it was going to suck having to get up an hour early to ride the buss there, and how it would feel weird to support North Park in sports now when we’d always been bitter rivals with them before. By the time 5:00 came around I couldn’t believe that this was really Pip. What had happened? Where had this guy who shared a lot of my views and interests come from and what had he done with the REAL Pip’s body?
“What are you doing after this?” I ask coming back to the present as I punch out, following Pip to the lockers.
“Well you see I have to be back at the orphanage by 9:00...” he answers with a confused look. “But I never have anything to do really. I usually head straight back there and read. Why?”
I shuffle my feet some at this and grab the shirts out of my locker to stall for a bit of time. “It’s just that.... I wouldn’t mind hanging out. If you’d like!” I add quickly. This stops Pip dead in his tracks and his eyes go wide. “I..I know that we haven’t really associated much...”
“But you’re one of the most popular guys at school” Pip cuts me off. “To be seen with me.... it would be social suicide. I don’t want to be a bother to you Stan. It’s nice just talking here.”
“Oh, stop that!” I retort, feeling almost offended. “I think the only reason that you aren’t popular yourself is because you don’t have any confidence after how everyone has treated you for all these years. I know all about how Cartman talks to you and what Craig does to you. I didn’t care until now, which is actually sort of shameful now that I think about it. But you’re a person Pip. And I choose to ask you to hang out with me as one person to another not as a popular to an unpopular.”
He smiles weakly and nods. “I suppose then yes. Let us hang out.”
I extend my hand to Pip. “I’m Stan. Good to know you.”
Pip’s smile broadens and he shakes my hand. “Charmed. My name is Philip, but my... friends call me Pip.”
We leave the theater, wave to Tony at the ticket counter, and hit the pavement. It is only about five minutes walk until we reach my front door.
“Is this going to problem with your parents? We should have called them ahead of time to make sure they didn’t have company. They’ll think I have terrible manners, just barging in like this..”
“Dude chill! It’s fine. I bring friends home all the time” I say as I throw the door open. “MOM, I’M HO...!” I call before realizing that Stan, Cartman, and Kenny are all sitting in my living room.
“Your mom invited us over for a kind of surprise party...what the hell is Pip doing here?” Kyle says all at once, eyeing Pip while frowning.
“Yeah! What the hell is that little French fag doing here Stan?” Cartman snarls pointing a finger into Pip’s chest. Pip looks absolutely panicked. I hadn’t really been thinking about what I’d do if something like this happened.
“Fuck you wide load, Pip and I work together.”
“And that has what, exactly, to do with the fact that he’s currently standing in your house?
“...I can go Stanley” Pip mumbles turning toward the door. I feel a gnawing of anger on Pip’s behalf as he refuses to defend himself from my friends. It’s a similar feeling to what I feel when any but the four of us rag on Kyle for being Jewish or when someone rags on Kenny or even Cartman. I can hear Cartman’s voice still spewing hate toward Pip as he walks through the threshold of the door.
“Wait Pip. I invited you here. You should stay.” I turn to the surprised faces of my friends. “Look I’m allowed to hang out with whoever I like dudes. I’ve never asked for your permission before and I’m not going to start now.”
“But it’s fucking...Pip. You can do better than that. He’s a choade.” Kyle replies.
“Don’t be such a hypocrite. I’m not trying to win a popularity contest with my current friends as it is. You’re a nerd Kyle and everyone in this room knows it. But that doesn’t make a difference to me. I’m YOUR friend so why can’t I be Pip’s friend!!!” There.. I said it. The phrase ‘Pip’s friend’. And it actually felt good. I point at Cartman. “No one likes you either Cartman, because you’re an annoying asshole. But I still hang out with YOU!!”
A tense moment of silence fills the room as Pip stands halted outside the door, I stand fuming just inside it, Kyle and Cartman stand looking indignantly at me, and Kenny sits on my couch with a thoughtful look.
This is going to blow up in my face, I just know it... “Pip, don’t stand outside. Get your ass back in here. I’m going to make some popcorn and play Gamesphere and enjoy the rest of this night. And you’re going to stay and party with me until 8:30.”
“Me too.” Kenny adds, surprising me. “I’m totally willing to admit another blond into this group. We need more beautiful people.” This causes Cartman to snort.
“Well if the French pussy thinks he can handle what we dish out...”
“Stop calling me French Eric.” Well what do you know. The last time I can remember Pip standing up for himself was in 3^rd grade, and it involved a dodge ball.
“Or what... Frenchie?”
“That’s enough Cartman. Let me get some popcorn started and then we can settle this with a couple rounds of Bloodbath 4” I interrupt, grabbing Pip and hauling him back into the house and pushing him toward the sofa. “Get the game started Kenny” I call behind me as I head toward the kitchen.
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Three hours. That’s all it took to almost completely undo all of what we’d thought of Pip since we’d met him. By the time 8:30 rolled around we’d played 6 rounds each of Bloodbath 4, 2 games each of Thirst for Blood 2, almost a dozen fights each at Soul Caliber 2, and an untold number of battles playing Transitron, which Pip turned out to be a grand master of. By the end of it all even Cartman had restricted himself to only video game related slander of Pip while Kyle and Kenny were even offering friendly encouragement.
“Well gents it is quickly approaching my curfew. So I will have to bid you all a goodnight” Pip says standing.
“Dude, you have GOT to teach me that finishing move where Sirikin flashes her opponent!” Kyle reaches to an end table and retrieves a pen. “Here’s my number” he says scratching it onto the back of Pip’s hand. “Call me and we can hang out at my house sometime.” Pip looks dazed for a moment before nodding at Kyle and opening the door to exit.
“I’ll see you tomorrow Pip” I call before he closes the door behind him.
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That’s all for this chapter... Man this one turned out to be a lot different than I had anticipated. I was going to add a whole other part to this one but that would have made it MASSIVE, so I’m diverting the overflow into a whole new chapter. Stay tuned for Chapter 3: ‘Just one teaspoon can kill you’
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In It For The Long Haul