A Tale [SOUTH PARK OC X MICHAEL]

Chapter fout; Whole Foods

Sunday, Morris did not go to the park. But he did snag a few $20 bills from his hunover dad in lue that Morris was to get a carton of eggs and some milk from Whole Foods. Jerry was lactose intolerant and Morris liked whole 2%. Non-dairy milk is expensive, okay. So are eggs around here.

With a cloth (idk eco friendly ig) totebag from Ikea, the big sturdy ones with that plastic liner at the bottom so the bag can stand flat, Morris made his way with his bike to Whole Foods. His bike was an orange classic cruiser with both front and rack baskets. Pretty spiffy, pretty ideal for grocery runs. There were reflectors and then a lock too for, y'know, safety. But then again, Morris did not wear a helmet, so tuff luck.

Morris petaled past the park where Craig and his friends were playing basketball. Again. Craig stopped playing and his hatless friend did too. In actuality, the hatless kid shouted at him.

"Come play ball!" He yelled.

Morris just zoomed past them, screaming a heavy "No!"

In Whole Foods, there were a shit ton of people. How? Don't ask the 12 year old, dude. This is a weird hick town, shut up.

Anyway, in the Whole Foods, Morris just waddled through the isles, looking through these healthy snacks (idk my mans is craving veggie straws) when he bumped into a bright fucking blue polo shirt. Blinking, Morris took a step back to fully see if this was a mannequin someone snuck over here or not. It was not.

The guy, man, was standing in a really uncomfortable way with his arms out a little from his torso while he had a slight hunch over. His bright polo shirt was accompanied by some khakis and sport shoes. Morris was mortified as the guy looked over and was wearing those sunglasses you get to protect your eyes from long exposure to UV while fishing. Either this guy  was going to be EXTREMELY racist or like a Chad Bro. Morris is putting his money on Chad Bro since he hasn't been called a slur yet.

"My apologies." Morris said, looking over to finally spot the veggie straws. Right next to his hip. Jesus fucking christ.

"It's all good. No worries about the bump. Accidents happen all the time." He said. Oh god, his consonants were so punctuated. And he said it so quickly. Ewww, he's PC.

"Do you mind if I grab those real quick?" Morris pointed, not meeting those ugly ass UV glasses.

"Uh. sure. Sorry bout that."

"Cool, thanks." Morris grabbed the bag, skedaddling the fuck out of there.

In the milk isle, Morris caught his fucking breath. People. Jesus christ. He saw that a white, black-haired girl in... purple and pink everything, was getting cashew milk. Ew, but okay. He purposely grabbed the almond milk.

She did a double take on him, "Um excuse me? You're that kid who moved in recently, aren't you? Morrison, right?"

"Nope." He said, popping the P and grabbing the 2% milk in the fridge section next to the fake milk. "Sorry."

"You know, I think you really messed with Cartman last month. His bruise still hasn't gone away."

Morris smiled a little at that, the girl tagging along as he fetch the brown eggs.

"Why were you throwing sticks at our school anyway?" She asked.

"I was bored and on my break."

"Being homeschooled must be a lot of fun." She mused.

"Uh-huh." He said angling the basket he was holding so that the milk did NOT have any chance in hell to crush the eggs. The veggie straws are on top, babe.

Morris finally looked at her slightly freckled face, noticing how dark her eyes were. They were so brown they were almost black. "I like your eyes."

Her face blushed a little, "Uh? Thank you?"

"Bye, girl I don't know." He said. "Hope I don't run into you again."

"My name's Wendy." She said, not realizing that what he said was not a joke. She stuck out her hand for him to take. He did not take it.

Ew. Touching people. Ew. Germs. But mostly Ew. Touching another person. Ew.

"Cool name." Was all he said before strolling away. "Bye."

She tried following but he evaded her by zig-zagging through the relatively short isles, cramming into a small split inbetween two that were pushed close to a call-phone pole.

Morris went to check-out in peace. The total was $20.77. Cool. He put the cash on the counter and recieved it the same way. Amazing service 10/10.

Morris rode back home, a tired frown on his face. He knows he has to go up a hill and he really doesn't want to.

Maybe he can kill some time and get some Chinese for lunch. He has heard that there is a City Wok here. They had one back in Portland. He promised himself that he'll get some... but after the groceries are put away. You don't want anybody to steal your milk.

Coming home to an empty house doesn't sting like it used to. But at least there was a 50% chance of someone actually being home. Mom was a rare treat. Morris misses her angel food cakes and strawberry mocha cake the most. But alas! Eggs and milk are secured and the back rack basket is in the garage.

Time for some beef teriyaki!

Morris regrets ever coming into the shop. Not that the place was full, no. It was fairly empty. It was just that the fat kid is there with three other dudes.

One of them looks painfully like Craig its stupid. But his clothes are blue and red, not blue and yellow. Also his hair is peaking out from under his hat. Another is wearing an orange jacket and a boxy green hat. And the third is just wearing a parka. His face does NOT peak from the hood funny, it doesn't!! Okay maybe it was funny. Morris giggled to himself at the vagina jacket.

"Herrow, welcome to Shitty Wok, how may I take your order?"

Chinese man, so cool.

"Hi, uh，你会说普通话吗？"
Hi, uh, nǐ huì shuō pǔtōnghuà ma?
(Hi, uh, do you speak mandarin?)

"哦感谢上帝。一个正常人 我怎样才能接受你的订单？"
Ó gǎnxiè shàngdì. Yīgè zhèngcháng rén. Wǒ zěnyàng cáinéng jiēshòu nǐ de dìngdān?
(Oh thank god. A normal person. How may I take your order?)

"一个城市牛肉照烧去，请和谢谢。"
Yīgè chéngshì niúròu zhào shāo qù, qǐng hé xièxiè.
(A beef teriyaki to go, please and thank you.)

"$14.73." The man said. "For you, it twelve dollar."

Morris handed over a $20, "Keep the change, man."

"Thank you."

The man just went back into the kitchen, and things smelt heavenly. Morris, though, almost lost his appetite when he looked over to see the two boys facing him were staring at him. Morris just tapped on the counter underneath the to-go sign, wishing for him to hurry up before the other two look.

Morris kept looking back and forth from the group to the menu, seeing if Cartman will turn around or not. The guy in the green hat glanced over at him when the Chinese man came out with that beautiful black box.

As the man handed over the box, both green hat and Cartman turned to look. Morris smiled a great big, asshole of a smile at Cartman before darting out the door.

He heard the "Hey!" and the scraping of the chairs as he undid his eIGHT FUCKING DIGIT LOCK why the FUCK is it so long? Who scrambled the thing?? BITCH!

"Fuck!" Morris said, hopping on the bike as feet were slapping on the pavement behind him.

He zoomed off with the chinese in his basket up that doggone hill back home. He made sure to put his bike in the garage and to lock the doors.

He was NOT going to get chewed out by some overzealous fatty. The only chewing he wants is with this food.