the asmodai ↣ style

Chapter One

Chapter 1: Stick Figure Porn

It all started when Stan asked a girl out.

"Oh," she had said, surprised. She bit her lip, and curled a strand of hair around her finger, and glanced quickly at his face before looking at the ground.

"Um... no," she said. "We'd better not."

"What?' Stan said, crestfallen. "Why not?"

"Er," she said. "Well... you're a really nice guy, Stan, but... I think cheating is wrong."

"Oh," he said. "Sorry... I didn't know you were seeing someone."

She blinked. "I'm not."

"But you just said-"

"Stan," she interrupted, "I can't go out with you. Wouldn't your boyfriend be mad?"

It took nearly ten seconds for the full impact of her words to hit him.

"Wha... WHAT? I DO NOT HAVE A BOYFRIEND!"

"Oh," she said, pressing a hand to her mouth. "Did you two break up? I'm so sorry."

"'Break'... NO! I've never had a boyfriend!"

She gave him a confused look. "What? No... The redhead?"

"What redhe-... Kyle?"

"Yes, that's right," she said. "You are such a cute couple."

"We are not a couple! I mean, Kyle? Kyle?"

She shrugged. "Well, admittedly, he is a bit of a nerd. But he has those gorgeous cheekbones..."

"I don't care about Kyle's cheekbones! I'm not interested in ANY of his bones! Oh, God."

"If you say so," she said, in a I-want-to-end-this-conversation-and-get-away-from-you-before-your-crazy-gets-on-my-shirt tone of voice.

Stan let her go. He was in a daze. He wandered to his next class period, missing the final bell because his brain was buzzing. He showed up to history nearly five minutes late, and Mr. Dorcas looked up from the overhead and scowled at him while he dropped into his seat. Stan hardly noticed. He was looking at Kyle, who sat several rows over in the front, and trying to figure out how anyone could think they were anything but best friends.

Mr. Dorcas was the only teacher that still made them sit in alphabetical order. This meant Stan was never able to talk to Kyle in that class. It also meant there was nothing separating Kyle and Cartman, and since the school year had begun they had fought over squirrel monkeys, Jews, plaid, Jews, whether Tristão da Cunha or Francisco de Ulloa was the better sixteenth century explorer, and did he mention Jews?

History was the only class where they were anywhere near each other. Every other teacher had caught on very quickly during their freshman year and now they always put them on opposite sides of the room. Mr. Dorcas, however, liked egging them on. Every since the police had busted up those cock, dog, and bovine fight rings during the summer, he'd been looking for ways to rile them up.

Stan wished he could talk to Kyle. Then he could tell him how misinformed that girl had been, and they would have a good laugh, and he could forget about the whole thing.

Kenny (who, obviously, sat directly behind him) leaned forward in his seat and hissed, in a voice low enough so that Mr. Dorcas wouldn't hear, "Dude, can't you do that on your own time?"

"Huh?" Stan said, blinking and turning his head enough to look at Kenny, but not enough to turn around in his seat and get barked at.

"You've been eye-fucking Kyle since you walked in. It's creepy."