A Tale [SOUTH PARK OC X MICHAEL]

Chapter Three; Meant For Solitary

Not making that mistake again of going during recess to the school, his stick attacts ceased for a  month or two. Month and three weeks?? Idk, that how much time it took for him to cram study and pass the 5th grade. Ez clap.

Now to take to the streets of South Park, terrorizing the school with its own stock of sticks! Perfect crime for there is no time.

Morris got ready to go out, grabbing a can of pringles and two caprisuns for a snack. He ate it as he took a stroll around town, only to come across kids his age at the park on his way to the school. He had to double take for a second, taking out his phone for the date. IT WAS FUCKING SATURDAY. Morris sighed, putting his phone back into his packet as he scanned the playground for the kid he hit. Luckily, he didn't find the guy, so the park was free to roam.

Morris decided to chill here for a bit, right on an empty bench in the basketball court. He was having the time of his life, watching the kids play basketball intensely. It was as if their life depended on it. Maybe it did, he didn't know if they had a bet or something. Morris decided that he didn't want to know, as he just patiently ate his chips while scrolling through his twitter. There was a solid minute inbetween each chip, that time being taken up by scrolling or like a sip of capris.

So he really didn't notice the basketball game pause due to one of the players coming over to him.

"You really did a number on Cartman." A stuffy sort of monotone voice said.

Morris about jumped right there out of his skin, pocketing his phone immediately. He looked up to see a white kid in a crayon blue coat and hat staring with the most emotionless face.

"Who's Cartman?" Morris asked, hyper-aware of his voice crack.

"The fat kid you hit with a stick," The kid replied. "You gave him a bruise on one of his fat rolls. I always kinda just thought blubber absorbed impact."

Morris looked around, feeling that he's the only one hearing his flat fucking voice right? Right? "Uh, right. And who are you?"

"Craig."

"Cool." Morris said, grabbing his chips and offering them out to the kid. Maybe he'll leave him alone? "Chip?"

"Thanks," He said (stated?), delicately reaching in to take one. It was only one. Freak.

Morris just tipped the can out onto his own hand, offering more to the kid. Which he did take with his hands in a makeshift bowl, scampering off to his basketball pals.

That was enough human interaction for today, as the other kids forced him out of the park just by talking to him. Amazing. Morris stood up, whiping off his hands on his pants, then brushing his ass off, getting ready to leave the park.

Craig caught this, calling out to him. "Hey, what's your name."

Morris looked around, seeing that Craig's pals were also looking at him. A few girls by the bathrooms were too, which is always awkward.

"Uh... Morrison." A lie.

"Come by tomorrow," Another kid, a hatless kid with brown hair and a red and blue coat said. "We wanna hang out."

"No!" Morris waved a goodbye, smiling a shit-eating smile before leaving. He dumped his trash away before he did though, you know, like a good person does. Littering is bad.

Morris came home to his dad passed the fuck out on the couch, a few beer cans on the table. Only three today. Cool.