The Cigars

Hopeful Flyers

Stan shoes hit the ground rapidly as he looked at the houses on the street. The wind was restless that day, it was guiding paper along the sky.  The whistles of the breeze often playing in his ear like music.

"Fuuuuuck" he groaned, watching a flyer being carried by the wind, following it quickly, rushing, as the wind begun to weaken.  

With a large step he grabbed it, stopping in time to avoid hitting the burgundy brick wall in front of him.  The corvine-haired boy sighed in relief, when a loud sound broke the silence on the streets.  He turned around, seeing a slightly opened garage door. The sound began taking force, sounding like a thousand people marching in unison.  It slowly became a rhythm, catchy you could say. 
He turned around, walking closer to the door, almost hypnotized by the noise, walking in a steady yet, imperfect pace. He crunched down and peaked under the door.  A drum set was the first thing he saw, amongst boxes, managing to recognize the figure playing the instrument. 

"Damn..' he whispered to himself.

On top of the instrument was a chubby boy with brownish hair, his eyes both closed while grinning, he let himself get carried away to a distant land by the music.  Stans face lit up with an excited smile.  He shot up, knocking on the aluminum garage door. The other stood up and lifted it up. 

"Yes..?" He said in a sour and annoyed tone

"Hi! hum, I heard you playing and well," Stan paused before making eye contact " I heard you playing and I was wondering if you would be interested in joining a-"

The black haired male asked while stumbling to pick up a flyer out of the stack, without making them all fall.

"-band!" He finished handing the flyer to the other, which gave Stan a confused look taking the handout.

The boy in front of him was quite chubby and tall, one of his eyes was a light hue of blue while the other being a deep brown, his left hand was busy holding an open can of Mountain Dew

"For a band?" He asked, in response with a hint of sarcasm

"Yeah! I would be the bassist- And you could be the drummer! I heard you play and I think you're really good!" A brief silence hovered over both of them, broken by

"Eric Cartman."

"Stan Marsh."

The two boys shook hands, grinning

"Well then, Stan, i'll let you know" Eric stated

Stan nodded quickly, and began walking away, waving at the other. He was enthusiastic, a match of hope lit up in his heart, as he headed to his original destination. 

After a few minutes he stood there, in front of the town's most famous karaoke, where a certain Kenny McCormick caught his attention. He scanned the karaoke place, trying to find the mullet wearing teen, but he was nowhere to be found.

Stan walked up to the DJ and handed him a flyer, "Can you please give this to McCormick when he shows up? It's really important" The DJ nodded as Stan thanked him, 

"No problem" He answered. This could really be the start of something, something great.  

On his way home, the black haired boy hung a couple more papers. He was looking forward to the next Friday, when he would meet all the candidates and choose.