Author's Notes: It's been too long since I wrote a South Park story, so in honor of my birthday I've dug out this old fic, which I started writing almost a year ago but just never finished until now. Which is weird, because it was mostly finished and I just love this idea. Anyway, even if you're one of the people this story is poking fun at, I hope you enjoy. :-D
The gymnasium of South Park High School was fully decked out in colorful decorations, streamers, and disco balls, with dozens of little tables set up around the dance floor where the happy students were celebrating with their partners. Mr. Mackey was off in one corner, playing the role of a (fairly-competant) DJ, while Darth Chef was off by the snack table, serving food and making crude sexual advances at some of the younger-looking students. The music was playing loudly, the lights were low, and overall it was exactly the way Wendy had always pictured it would be.
Well, except for her date, of course.
"Oh, I think I see a place over there, Wendy!" Butters said, pointing across the room.
She sighed. "Fine."
Butters didn't catch the weary tone; instead he just guided her across the gymnasium, his arm around her shoulder like it had been since getting out of the car. He turned to her, grinning as they walked. "Isn't this exciting?! Our senior prom!"
"Yeah." She forced a small smile. "I'm just glad I could get a date."
"Oh, me too!" Butters admitted, looking at the floor with a small, nervous grin. "I sure am glad you decided to come with me. Why I was---I was a bit nervous I wasn't gonna be able to find a girl to come with me at all, to tell ya the truth."
Wendy almost laughed. It was just like Butters, though, to think that he would have a hard time getting a date when practically every girl in the school had been praying that he would ask her. Many had even appealed directly to Jesus, who had spent most of the last week with his lights off, pretending not to be home.
The pair stepped around Gregory and Christophe, who were making out against the wall, and headed for one of the few vacant seats. They walked by the other girls, most of whom were congregated on one side of the room, and as they passed every eye seemed to turn to glare daggers at Wendy, and she easily heard their behind-the-hands muttering.
"Ugh, look who it is."
"How did she get the guy, anyway?"
Wendy felt like she had been kicked in the gut, but she stuck up her nose and walked past with as much defiance as she could manage; Butters was still too flushed with excitement to even notice the other girls. None of them had dates, Wendy noticed, except for the lesbians. Few of whom were actually lesbians, of course; most had simply declared themselves such out of desperation long ago. Wendy had to scoff when she saw Bebe and Heidi, their hands limply together on the table. Based on their glares, Wendy would bet money they had each been to Jesus' in the last week, praying for the coveted Butters-date.
The two sat down; Butters was practically jumping up and down in his seat, while Wendy put her face in her hand and sighed loudly again. "So, whuddya wanna do?" the former asked, staring around the room excitedly. "Do ya wanna go get our pictures taken, or get some refreshments, or maybe have a little dance or---"
"Uh, Butters? Maybe we should just sit here for a minute first, okay? We just got here."
He obediently calmed down. Wendy smiled lightly in relief, then turned her attention to the room, gazing around at the other couples. Her breath suddenly caught in her throat, though, when she saw the dance floor; he was there, with his date...
"W-Wendy? Are you okay?"
"What?!" She looked up, startled. "Oh...fine, Butters. Just thinking."
"Oh. Alright, then."
Wendy turned back to the dance floor, watching the two again. Kyle, in his powder-blue tuxedo and green hat...and Stan, in a long, beautiful blue dress, his usual hat gone, hair done up magnificantly. Wendy was torn between heartache and jealousy that she didn't look that good.
Wendy knew she shouldn't be moping about this. After all, she wasn't the first girl to ever suffer a break-up---actually, she was basically the last girl in South Park to, now that she thought about it---and it wasn't as if she hadn't seen the signs, as hard as she tried to deny them. But still, Stan...they had been together forever, ever since they were little kids back in elementary school. But he was throwing up in another girl---boy's---mouth now...
She felt a hand on her shoulder. "Wendy?"
"...You're still sad, ain'tcha? 'Bout breakin' up with Stan and all?"
Wendy didn't answer for a moment. The pain was still too fresh to think about---it had only been, what, a week since it happened? Wendy should have known it would. She knew that Kyle wasn't going to take Cartman's crap forever, but she had forced herself not to think about what a Kyle/Cartman break-up would mean for her and Stan.
"...A little," she said finally, watching the two boys laugh as they got off the dance floor. Then, suddenly remembering where she was, and that she could easily be hurting her date's feelings right now, she turned and forced some cheer back into her voice. "But I'm okay. I mean, I'm glad they're happy together. I'm glad everybody's happy together. ...Or at least the boys."
Butters nodded. Mr. Mackey announced the next song, Craig ran giggling onto the dance floor, pulling a sputtering Tweek by one hand. On their other side, Clyde ran by with Token. Wendy could hear the other girls grumbling, even from several tables away, as the music started. Heidi seemed to suggest dancing with Bebe, but she waved her hand dismissively, and the two of them slumped down looking depressed once again.
"What's it like to be the only straight boy left in the school?"
"Oh." Butters knocked his knuckles together nervously. "Aw...I dunno. Not bad, I guess."
"Well, yeah. I mean...it gets a little weird, you know, when Kyle or Kenny or...er, Stan, just wanna sit around and talk about other boys and stuff...and changin' in the locker room can be kind 'a scary sometimes..."
Wendy suddenly laughed. "Oh, yeah, I heard about that. Didn't Principal Victoria have to get, like, armed guards to keep all the other boys out of trouble?"
Butters giggled. "Yeah. But it's not too bad. 'Sides, I don't think I'm the only straight boy left."
"Really?" She raised an eyebrow. "Who else is there?"
Butters paused; he was about to say "Stan" when he remembered that that wasn't true anymore, since he had finally come out of the closet after breaking up with Wendy. (Butters, as it turned out, was practically the only person who hadn't realized the truth long before.) He looked around the room, from all the guys dancing with each other on the floor, over to the girls who were sitting mopily away. Suddenly he shouted, "Oh! There's somebody! Hey! Over here!" He began to wave.
"Huh?" Wendy looked around. "Who is it?"
"It's Damien! Hey! Over here, Damien!"
Almost as surprising as the answer was the fact that he actually came at Butters' call, followed by the Goth girl Henrietta. Neither looked happy. (Neither usually did).
"Hey guys! You wanna sit with us?"
Henrietta sighed. "Whatever," she said, pulling out a chair and lighting up a cigarette.
"Why not?" Damien grumbled, in his high, squeaky voice that puberty had never dared to touch. "Better than sitting with any of those jealous bitches or stupid queermos."
He took his seat; Wendy stared at the two in amazement. Damien gave her a look.
"Are you two here...together?"
"Yes," Damien said, narrowing his eyes at her. "Why?"
"Oh boy, here we go," Henrietta said, rolling her eyes.
"Well, it's just that---I had heard that you and Pip---"
"U-uh, Wendy, I wouldn't bring that up---" Butters began, but Damien had already exploded.
"I AM NOT GAY FOR PIP!" he screamed, standing up on his chair and nearly knocking Wendy out of hers; instantly the air around them had begun to swirl, as Damien's eyes glowed red and fire and electricity began to crackle around him, singeing his suit. "Pip and I are friends! We are not gay for each other!"
"He's gay for you," Henrietta muttered.
The mystical effects---the swirling air and crackling flames---vanished as Damien sat down again, crossing his arms sullenly. "That...is beside the point," he said, looking angrily away.
Wendy stared at the two. Butters leaned over to her and whispered, "Pip's kind of had a crush on Damien for a while now, but Damien keeps sayin' he doesn't want to be with him. Most of the guys think he's gay, but he keeps denyin' it."
"That's because I'm not," Damien growled. "And I'm sick of having to explain that to people---including Pip. Little bastard asked me out to this stupid thing a hundred times at least."
"Really?" Wendy looked around. "Is he here?"
"Yeah," Damien muttered, his eyes sliding across the room. Wendy followed his gaze and spotted the young Briton on the dance floor, leaning against the shoulder of someone in an orange tuxedo; his date had his back to her, but Wendy easily recognized the wild blond hair.
"After the last time I turned him down, Pip ran off crying and was going to kill himself or something---probably just so he could annoy me more down in Hell. Anyway," he sighed, continuing on in a bored tone of voice, "they wheeled him into the hospital right when Kenny was coming out of the morgue, Kenny comforted him, and of course it all ended in nice fluffy butt-sex by the end of the night."
"These things usually do," Wendy mumbled, thinking of her last fight with Stan and the hook-up with Kyle immediately afterwards.
Sensing his date's return to melancholy, Butters frowned and stood up. "Er---I'm-I'm gonna go get us some punch. You want some punch, Wendy?"
She smiled weakly. "Sure, Butters. Thanks."
Butters got up and walked across the room. Damien turned to find Henrietta staring at him. "...What?"
"Ugh." She suddenly pushed him out of his chair; he let out a cry and landed on the floor.
"Hey! What was that for?!"
"Go get me some fuckin' punch, Casanova!"
"Ugh." Damien rose to his feet, glaring at her, tiny embers once again crackling in the air. Wendy was sure for a moment that he was going to attack her with a fireball---Damien still had a notoriously short temper after all these years---but then he spun around and stormed off to the punch bowl, grumbling as the flames disappeared in tiny a puff of smoke. He did, however, set the hem of Kelly Rutherford-Menskin's dress as he passed; she let out a cry and began to roll on the floor as Damien joined Butters at the refreshment table.
Wendy turned to Henrietta. "Wow. That was kind of harsh of you, don't you think?"
The Goth girl scoffed. "Well, he deserved it," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "He can be a little asshole sometimes."
"So why are you dating him?"
"Why are you dating the Stotch kid?"
Wendy looked away, going slightly pink. "Good point," she muttered, letting out a small sigh.
Henrietta stabbed her cigarette furiously into an ash tray on the table. "Yeah, well, Damien used to be an okay boyfriend, but ever since people started thinking he was gay, he gets…moody. I'd break up with him if I could, but there's no way I'm giving up one of the only two dogs in town that actually wants to chase a cat."
"What about your friends? Are they, uh…"
"Faggots like everyone else? Oh yeah," Henrietta muttered, lighting up another smoke and motioning across the room. "Redd and Curly have been dating for like, the last three months now, and they're always too wrapped up in each other to notice anything else. Seems like the only one I had left I could even talk to was Shorty, until…"
"Puberty. He's over having a 'play-date' with that Ike Broflovski kid right now."
"Oh. Family of homewreckers, that one..."
"Ugh. Women!" Damien screamed, angrily grabbing a cookie from the table and shoving it in his mouth. "Mut mis mif mat mitch mammymay?" he demanded, crumbs flying out.
"Aw. Don't talk like that, Damien," Butters said. "Why, your girlfriend seems really nice. Why, she's just---she's just a little rough around the edges, I s'pose."
Damien grumbled as Butters turned his attention to the refreshment table. "Can I get four cups of punch, please?"
"Why, sure, children," Darth Chef said, speaking over the deep breaths of his mechanical suit as pouring the drinks out with a ladel. "And after you're done with these, how would you like to have another drink from a long straw I have in the alley behind the school?"
"Uh-uh. Fool me twice, shame on me," Butters said firmly, taking the cups and turning back to Damien. Darth Chef merely shrugged, turning away as Craig and Tweek came to the table.
"Ugh. I hate this whole stupid prom thing," Damien grumbled, arms crossed sullenly over his chest. "I don't know why I even agreed to come."
"Well, you gotta go to your senior prom, Damien. It's a big milestone and all." Butters frowned, trying to pick up all four cups of punch at once. "Hey, could you help me with these?"
The Antichrist glared at him for a moment. "...No."
Butters went back to his struggle with the punch as Damien went back to glaring at Henrietta and Wendy from across the room. "I hate this stupid town," he muttered. "If I wanted to be around a bunch of faggots I hate all the time, I'd move back in with my dad and his boyfriend."
"Aw, it's not so bad."
"Yes it is. You and I are the only straight guys in town. It doesn't even make any sense!" he exclaimed, as Butters accidentally spilled two of the cups on himself and quickly tried to wipe it off his tux while asking Darth Chef for refills. "I mean, whoever heard of a town where everyone is gay?! Not even San Francisco had this many faggots! And only the guys around our age. Why aren't all the adults at least gay too, huh, or the chicks?! Is God doing this just to annoy me?!"
"Well, I don't know about all that," Butters said, finally managing to take all four cups safely in his arms. "It's a big mystery, though, ain't it? Why, most of the others never even seemed gay before, now did they? Stan used to really like Wendy, and Cartman and Kyle had crushes on girls, and Kenny…why, Kenny liked all kinds of girls, he had magazines full of 'em and everything! Sometimes I think they just turned gay for some reason. Old Dr. Mephisto has been trying to study it up in his lab," he added.
"How's that going?"
"Well—m-mostly I think he's just given some of the gay kids extra butts," Butters admitted. "Which didn't make anything better, let me tell you," he added, remembering a rather disturbing scene he had walked in on recently in the bathroom.
"Hmph. Good work." Damien's angry expression suddenly fell; for a moment he looked truly depressed. "It's even worse living here than it must be for gay kids in normal towns," he muttered. "At least there, there are a few other gay kids around; they can just go to gay bars or something if they want. What about us, huh? There aren't any places left in South Park for straight boys anymore! I mean, there are only two of us! What are we supposed to do, start a straight bar, just the two of us sitting around drinking beers?!"
"Or a club!" Butters said, his eyes suddenly wide with excitement. "Why, you and I could start our—our very own Straight Kids Club, Damien! Just you and me, and any other straight boys if there are any left."
"Oh. Well, I still know how you feel," Butters said. "If it makes you feel better."
Damien looked up, and suddenly smiled. "You know whta? It does, a little."
Butters smiled back. He had cute little dimples, making his warm, friendly face seem even more cherub-like.
Damien suddenly felt his heart flutter.
"Can I...tell you something?"
"Why, sure ya can!"
Damien smiled, then leaned forward. Butters leaned forward too, turning his head slightly, which kept him from noticing Damien puckering his lips.
Wendy and Henrietta both looked up as Butters came running towards them, covered in punch and with one of the little paper cups balancing ridiculously on his head like a fez. He rushed over to Wendy and hid behind her chair as Damien stormed after him, once again crackling with angry demonic magic.
"HEY! I'm not through with you yet! Get your adorable ass back here, you sexy little moron!"
Henrietta jumped to her feet. "What?!"
"Hide me!" Butters squeaked to Wendy, as her eyes and mouth simply widened in a look of total shock.
"I see you there, Butters! Get back here!"
"But I'm not gay! I told you that!" Butters whined, trying to position himself behind Wendy as if this would keep Damien from finding him.
"Well, I don't care! It turns out I love you, or something," Damien said, raising a flaming finger. "Now you get out here and take those pants off right now, or I swear I'm gonna---"
"Agh!" Damien cried, grabbing his face as Henrietta stood before him, shaking with rage. "What the hell was that for, bitch?!"
"What the hell do you think?! You're trying to fucking rape someone else in the middle of our---fucking---prom!" she screamed, beating him upside the head.
"Agh! Well I don't care! I'm leaving you for Butters now!"
"But I'm not gay!"
"So?! The Broflovski kid wasn't gay at first either, just let me rape you a few times and you'll come arou---STOP IT, WOMAN!"
"ME stop it?! YOU'RE the one ruining my magical night, you little FUCK!"
Damien pushed Henrietta off of him, knocking her to the ground and letting out a blast of energy. Wendy and Butters both screamed; Butters tackled her from behind and knocked her and her chair to the floor, just as the blast obliterated the table and set the people sitting behind them aflame.
It was at this point that the music stopped and most of the room spun around to watch the odd scene.
"I can't fucking believe you!" Henrietta screamed, tackling Damien and knocking him to the ground along with her. "You fucking little faggot ass!"
"Agh! Get off me, skank, before I---"
The two began rolling violently on the ground, Damien letting loose blasts of hellish power at random and causing the crowd to scatter in fear. Girls leapt to the floor as their seats were disintergrated, boys grabbed each other and shrieked in girlish terror---one blast hit the metal raftors above and collapsed a large disco ball to the floor.
Pip let out a scream as blood and guts splattered all over him.
Kyle gasped, clutching Stan's hand. "Omigawsh they killed Kenny!" he cried.
Stan's body stiffened, then collapsed, a large red bump already forming on his head. Kyle gasped and spun around, just in time to see a manically-grinning Cartman drop his baseball bat and step over Stan's unconscious form towards him.
"That's right," he said, grabbing Kyle roughly and pulling him towards him. "And you're mine now, Jew."
He pulled Kyle into a rough, violent kiss; Kyle struggled for a moment, then began to return the kiss, pawing at Cartman's jacket hungrily, because that's a perfectly reasonable thing to do in this situation.
Meanwhile Damien and Henrietta continued to whale on each other, the former's supernatural attacks repeatedly missing her in favor of just about anyone or -thing else in the room. Butters and Wendy were ducked to the floor with their hands over their heads, the former with his eyes shut in terror. Wendy elbowed him roughly.
"We have to get out of here! Come on!"
She ran towards the exits, still crouching down to avoid the blasts of fire that flew around the room. Butters screamed and ran after her, squeezing through the doors with about half of students in his grade, trying to ignore the boys and girls who took the opportunity to grab his butt in the enclosed space.
Butters stopped the car on the street in front of Wendy's house, then sat awkwardly for a moment, rapping his knuckles together.
"Well Wendy, I---I sure am sorry I refused the advances of the Antichrist and wound up ruining our prom and everything."
"Oh, that's alright," Wendy said softly. "It wasn't your fault."
"Still. I just---I just---"
"Well...like I said, I was just really happy when you agreed to come to the prom with me, and I---well, I know you're still sad about breakin' up with Stan and all, so I just really wanted this date to go well. And instead it just wound up---well, a big old mess. Like usual."
Wendy frowned; Butters, meanwhile, unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car, slouching around to open Wendy's door for her. The two were silent as they walked up to Wendy's front step, then remained silent for another moment, not looking at each other.
"...Well, for what it's worth, I had a pretty good time, all things considered," Wendy said, venturing to look up and smile weakly at him.
"Really?" Butters asked, blinking as he perked up hopefully.
"Yeah. I mean, you know, other than having to watch my ex-boyfriend dance with another guy and then witness a miniaturized Apocalypse where the Antichrist tried to rape my date, I actually had a pretty good time. Thanks."
She leaned forward and gave Butters a small kiss on the cheek. His face broke into an instant grin as she drew back, smiling at him as she opened the front door and vanished inside.
Butters stared at the door for a moment, then slowly reached up to rub his cheek, dazed; his whole face felt warm, and his skin seemed to tingle where Wendy had kissed it.
Butters chuckled softly. "You know, Stan and the rest of those gaywads don't know what they're missing," he murmured to himself, skipping off the Testaburgers' front stoop and walking slowly back to his car.
A/N: Well, that wound up a bit longer and more difficult than I expected, but like I said, I rather love this idea; it's fun to take this fandom's foible and bring it to its logical outcome. XD I hope you like this, and please review! :-D
(P.S.: Debating whether I should go back and add the title into the dialogue somewhere. Any thoughts?)