Archive of Our Own ^beta

“There’s a girl that I like.” Stan sang softly to himself.

“Dude shut up. You’re totally lame.” Cartman yelled at him.

Stan peeked from behind a tree as he watched Wendy ice skate around Stark's Pond. He continued to sing under his breath, choosing to ignore his friends.

“Dude if you like her, go talk to her.” Kyle insisted.

“No way. I’ll barf again.” Stan frowned.

“Dude if you don’t, I’ll go talk to her.” Kenny said.

“Fine, fine. Goddammit.” Stan threw his ice skates, regulation from junior hockey, over his shoulder and strolled his way onto the pond.

Wendy did a full figure eight on the ice as her hair whipped around her face before she turned around to see Stan on the edge of the pond.

“Can I join you?” Stan asked.

“Sure, I don’t mind.” Wendy smiled as she continued skating around.

When her back was turned, Stan leaned over to throw up into a nearby bush. He bent over to tie on his ice skates and looked behind at his friends either rolling their eyes or cheering him on as he entered the ice to skate after Wendy.

The sun rose higher in the sky on the crisp Colorado morning as Wendy skated in a circle, Stan followed. He made a move to grab her hand but she smiled and coyly kept her hands behind her back as her skates scraped along the ice.

“What, do you want to hold my hand Stan?” Wendy winked at him.

“I guess. If that’s okay with you.” Color tinged at Stan’s cheeks.

“Let’s see if you can do this.” Wendy stopped at the edge of the pond. She paused for a moment before going faster and faster, gaining momentum as her long dark hair flew after her in a lovely dark comet before she took a big hop and spun around in the air, coming to a graceful landing.

Stan could feel his heart race at the sight. She was amazing. “Okay I’ll try, but if I can do more spins than you I get to hold your hand.”

“Deal.” Wendy called from across the pond.

Stan set his sights at a tiny snow bank in the distance, a good launching point to show off. It was next to a tree with a low hanging branch he could grab and spin off of. He put his head down and started to skate into the little mound of powder and made a jump. He spun in the air, one, two, three times and his hands reached out to grab the tree branch to keep his momentum. He didn’t have time to react as the branch fully broke off and he fell hard onto the ice with a cry of pain. The heavy branch fell and landed right on top of him, hitting him right in the chest as the ice around him cracked.

“Stan!” Wendy cried out, fear sharp in her stomach as she ran to help. Stan moaned weakly in pain and coughed as blood dribbled from his mouth. He looked pale, his eyes half lidded. Wendy ran over to try to help, pulling at the branch but it was too heavy for one person to lift up. “Stan, I’m sorry, so so sorry.”

The ice Stan lay on cracked under him. “Help! Someone help me!” Wendy screamed out.

Kyle, Kenny, and Cartman came running from the nearby woods. “What the fuck did you do to him now you stupid bitch?” Cartman yelled at her.

“Fuck you fatass! Help him!” Wendy cried as Stan’s friends attempted to lift the branch off of him as the ice below cracked more.

“Stop, stop. The branch stabbed him.” Kyle said, pointing to blood pooling from Stan’s jacket. “Someone go get help.” He glared at Wendy.

“Fine, fine. Be right back.” Wendy kissed the tops of her fingers and placed them to Stan’s pale cheek before taking off into town.

The emergency doors to Hell’s Pass Hospital slammed open as the paramedics rushed the gurney in.

“What do we have here?” Dr. Doctor called out.

“Nine year old boy, out ice skating with a girl that he likes when he got whumped really bad. A tree branch fell on top of him, stabbing him in the chest and then the ice cracked underneath him causing hypothermia.” The faceless paramedic called out.

“My god, this is one of the worst whumpings of my career.” Dr. Doctor muttered to himself. “Get me a large dose of morphine…maybe something for the kid too. Shit looks like it hurts.”

A nurse shook her head as she started an IV on Stan, what a lame ass stolen joke.

In the corner of the room stood three terrified boys, though they tried their best to hide their discomfort at the pain their friend was experiencing but cracking jokes and bickering with each other. Also glaring at a terrified girl standing in the opposite corner, fully to blame as far as they were concerned.

Wendy watched as the doctors worked on Stan, tears plastering her face. Praying and hoping to whatever deity was out there he would pull through and be able to talk to her one day. She was just teasing him and really did like him back.

Not that it mattered at this moment.

“Doctor, his heart stopped!” A nurse called out, adding to the dread Wendy felt.

“We gotta zap it!” Dr. Doctor yelled out as he ran to the microwave. He opened it to find a potato cooking in there. “Who’s making a potato?”

Another doctor looked up from doing compressions. “That was mine sir, I missed lunch.”

A bolt of inspiration overcame the doctor. He carefully grabbed the potato out of the microwave, making sure to have oven mitts. “Rush this kid to surgery, stat! Let’s see what we can do.”

Six hours later. “Close him up, it’s all we can do…”

Kyle sat next to Stan’s hospital bed, any concerns far away right now as he held his hand. He’d squeeze once in a while and with some relief Stan would weakly squeeze back. He looked over his friend bandaged from armpits to belly button, wondering what the hell kind of surgery they did.

A knock at the door and he looked up expectantly, maybe it was Stan’s family. But Wendy entered the hospital room.

Kyle narrowed his eyes. “What do you want? Haven’t you done enough?”

“No…I haven’t. I wanted to check on him too.” Wendy took a seat opposite Kyle and ran her fingers through Stan’s hair. “Wake up…when you’re ready.”

Stan’s eyes cracked open as he lifted a shaky hand up. “Holy fucking shit, what happened?” He mumbled looking around. He could make out the figures of Kyle and Wendy who seemed to be arguing over him. “Guys?”

“Stan!” Kyle shouted. Wendy beamed at him and he felt his stomach turn.

“Wendy, get out of here. Go find a doctor!” Kyle yelled as Stan gagged and groaned as Kyle carefully turned him on his side even if his stomach was empty. “Dude, you came back from the dead! Holy fucking shit I’ve never seen anyone do that before.” Kyle said hugging him.

“Ughhhhh.” Stan moaned, feeling horrible pain through his chest.

Dr. Doctor comes in now followed by Wendy. He leans over Stan’s bed, yelling at him like he was speaking to someone very dumb. “Hello Stan! Nice to see you awake. Don’t move, you’ll pop your stitches.”

Stan groans again as he covers his ears. “I’m not deaf dude. What happened?”

“You had a tree branch stab you through the heart. But we were able to replace your heart with a baked potato in a landmark transplant procedure. Normally you might have about three seconds to live but we’re able to prolong it with a steady supply of butter and sour cream. You need to take your chives and bacon bits and keep your toppings levels up and you should be able to live a semi-normal life.” Dr Doctor explains.

Stan’s eyes bug out as he puts a hand to his chest. “What?” He looks up at the IV attached to his arm, indeed one shows melted butter product and the other low fat sour cream. “I have a baked potato heart!”

“Now Stanley, it’s going to be fine. Think of it, you’ll be famous! Whether you live or die you’ll be the first person with a potato heart who lived more than three seconds.” Dr Doctor put his hand to his chin. “I could get rich off this.”

“Screw your money, asshole! I don’t want to die!” Stan yells, getting up to throttle the doctor but feeling way too weak. “Fuck this sucks.” He turns to Kyle sadly.

“I mean…you’re alive, dude. Nothing would be worse than if a friend died.” Kyle tries to smile and hold Stan’s hand, as Kenny rolls his eyes.

“Aww weak.” Stan grumbled.

Wendy wiped tears from her eyes and took Stan’s other hand. “The truth is I really do like you, Stan. I wanted to play along with you but I’d never forgive myself if you hadn’t.”

“Oh like he isn’t whumped enough. Don’t break his heart even more.” Kyle said.

“I’m not, I’m sorry.” Wendy shot back.

Stan stared forward, his eyes meeting Kenny’s as Kyle and Wendy argued. It was hard to read his expression, more so than usual. “Goddammit.” Stan pinched the bridge of his nose.

Stan had been released from the hospital and was adjusting to his life with a potato heart. He woke up for school on Monday, reaching over to shut off his alarm. He didn’t move, still trying to find a reason why this happened to him. Knowing there wasn’t a good answer for it. He reached over to feel the inside of his wrist, not really feeling a pulse there knowing blood was being moved though this body via a potato. He was a freak of nature, with an even more freakish routine.

There was a knock at the door as Stan’s mother, Sharon, enters with a breakfast tray. “Hi Stanley, how are you feeling today?” She said, putting on an air of cheer even with a shake in her voice.

Stan rolls his eyes but doesn’t move from his position in bed. “I don’t care.”

“Time for your medicine.” Sharon places the tray on his lap.

Stan stares glumly at his new morning routine. Clear pills filled with chopped up chives and bacon bits. A glass filled with melted butter and a little dish of sour cream to choke down before he could have breakfast. “Mom, I can’t. This is gross.”

“Stanley, Dr Doctor said it’s very important to take your medication as directed.” Sharon sighs, already fed up with the constant fights with her son these days.

“Can’t I just have a heart transplant? Please?” Stan begs.

“Come on sweetie. This is just as good. Besides, you're famous because of it. That’s even better. You’re alive, you’re healthy, you’re famous. Now drink your butter, Stanley.” Sharon tells him as she opens up the curtains to let the sunshine in.

Stan blinked in the harsh early morning light before he shoved his chive and bacon pills down. With great effort he swallowed a mouthful of butter before it went solid in the glass. This was pure punishment for being the kid who always barfed. He shoved down his little dish of sour cream before flopping back down in defeat, covering himself with his blankets as he held his stomach.

Sharon was grabbing clothes from his closet to lay out for him. “Now Stanley, after school today you have your heart transplant support group and doctor’s appointments.”

“Aw mom, I was supposed to go to the movies with Wendy after school. The support group thing is a waste of time and the doctor is a moron.” Stan’s face turned pale as he put a hand over his mouth.

Sharon knew that look and grabbed a trash can for him before he threw up on his bed. She rubbed his back as he heaved into the trash can and spit a few times. “I’m not going to school today. Right mom?”

“You have to Stan. But you’re worrying me that you’re not keeping your medication down. We’ll ask the doctor.” Sharon looks at her phone worriedly. “Hmmm got a call from the local news that they want to do a feature on you. That sounds nice, doesn't it, Stan?”

“No this is stupid.” Stan shoves the trash can aside and lays back down.

The doorbell rings and a moment later Kyle appears in the doorway of Stan’s bedroom. Stan groaned again and turned his back to the door.

“Nope, not having it.” Kyle goes over to help get Stan out of bed. “Everyone is waiting for you at the bus stop and looking forward to seeing you at school.”

“No, this is stupid and embarrassing. I don’t want to be bothered at school over a potato heart.” Stan sat up in bed but just kept his posture slouched over, his feet dangling over the side.

“Well, think of the positives. You’re alive, you have people who care about you…you don’t have to take gym anymore.” Kyle grinned as he grabbed the clothes Sharon left out for Stan.

“I like gym, but you’re right. I don’t have to deal with what I don’t want to.” Stan gave a weak smile as he allowed Kyle to help him get ready.

Stan and Kyle met their friends at the bus stop, Kyle walking protectively in front of Stan as he munched on a piece of dry toast for breakfast, like he hadn’t had his fill of butter for a lifetime.

“Hey it’s potato boy and his little tater tot.” Cartman called out as Butters laughed next to him. Kenny still looked away with his arms crossed.

“Haha, that’s great.” Stan rolled his eyes as he finished his toast off. He rocked back and forth on his heels and held his backpack straps. “I’ll get used to potato comments. Not that bad, considering.” He said through gritted teeth.

“Well considering everything we’re glad you’re okay.” Butters said, slapping Stan on the shoulder.

“Yeah…okay….” Stan slipped his hands into his pockets.

“Butters you asshole.” Cartman spat out. “How can you be so insensitive with poor Stan?”

“Huh?” Butters’ eyes widened, genuinely confused.

“Stan is our friend, and he’s not just okay. He’s just as lame as before.” Cartman went on.

Stan shook his head, not wanting to follow Cartman’s train of thought.

“He’s famous now. We’re famous by default.” Cartman said.

“Arg, this is stupid.” Stan ignored Kyle and Cartman starting to argue as the bus pulled up. He got on quickly and sat next to Kenny. “Hey dude.”

Kenny just stared out the window, arms crossed firmly.

“Uh, Kenny? You okay?” Stan put a hand on his friend’s shoulder but Kenny shook him off.

“Fuck off.” Kenny grumbled.

“Uh okay.” Stan sat back before looking around the bus as it started to take off. Kenny wouldn’t look at him but everyone else on the bus were staring at him, a few uneasy smiles in his direction. Stan felt his cheeks redden. It was probably for the best he sat next to someone who didn’t want to talk to him, as he heard whispers around him and Kyle and Cartman still arguing in the back of the bus.

He didn’t have the energy for this bullshit.

The bus pulled up to South Park Elementary and let the children off. Stan gripped the straps of his backpack and looked around. Was it just his imagination, or were there more stares and whispers in his direction?

“Hey Stan.” Wendy appeared at his side. “How are you feeling?” She reached out to give him a hug.

Stan happily returned the hug, feeling nauseous but excited all at once. “I’m here, that’s the important thing. But my friends are all acting stupid as hell.”

“It’s okay. Can’t wait for our first date after school.” Wendy took his hand carefully as they walked to the entrance of the school together.

Stan frowned. “About that. I have some doctor appointments after school. I can’t make it. Can I take a rain check?”

Wendy’s expression darkened. “Y-yes take all the time you need. Oh Stan, I'm so sorry. You wouldn’t be in this position if it weren’t for me. I'm so sorry. We’ll reschedule.”

She held her arms out to hug Stan. He felt his own eyes tear up as she pressed against the wound in his chest but it did feel nice to be hugged, even if she was sobbing into his shoulder. What hurt more, he caught Kyle’s eye across the schoolyard. Kyle looking at them disapprovingly.

Stan sat in class, trying to keep up with Mr. Garrison’s stupid lecture of the day. His fingers gripped his pencil, his other hand on his chest. His eyes scanned the classroom. A few of his classmates were staring but looked away when they realized they had been caught. This fucking sucked.

He saw Kyle raise his hand out of the corner of his eye. “My Garrison. I think Stan needs to go to the nurse!” Kyle said.

Stan shot him a look. “No I don’t. I’m fine.” He saw the whole class look at him concerned.

Mr. Garrison waved his hand dismissively. “Fine, take him to the nurse, Kyle. Before he keels over. I don’t have a defibrillator or microwave handy. So I’m the fourth season of ER, George Clooney was quite a nice piece of ass.”

Kyle got Stan up and grabbed him by the shoulder to take him out of the classroom.

“I’m fine, I swear.” Stan protested as they stepped into the hall.

“You’re really not, look.” Kyle turned Stan to look at himself in the reflection of a trophy case.

Stan stared back at his gaunt reflection. Looking pale with huge circles under his eyes. “So? That’s just how I look now. Deal with it. I am.”

“You look like shit. I know those doctors were desperate to save you, but you need a second option or something.” Kyle grabbed Stan’s sleeve and dragged him the rest of the way to the nurses office.

Both boys felt uncomfortable as the nurse on duty was Nurse Gollum. The nurse with the fetus on the side of her head look one look at Stan and laid him down on a cot with a blanket and ice chips as she called his parents. Kyle sat next to him. “Told you.” He said.

“Bet you feel so great.” Stan said from his cot.

“I don’t, sucks to see you so sick.” Kyle tries to hold his hand but Stan shakes him off and turns his back to him.

“I don’t want you to feel sorry for me.” Stan grumbles to the wall.

“I’m not feeling sorry for you, I’m just worried about you. If Wendy hadn’t fucking done that.” Kyle yelled.

“She didn’t do anything! It was a freak accident.” Stan growled.

Nurse Gollum came up now, her fetus bouncing as she rushed over. “Is everything okay, Stanley?”

“No it’s not. Kyle can go now.” Stan says, still facing the wall.

“But…” Kyle started to protest.

“Just go dude, before you make things worse.” Stan said again.

“Before I make things? Fine. Whatever Stan.” Kyle put his head down as he left the nurses office, he turned at the door to look back and try and say something. But no words came. He sighed and went back to the classroom. He passed a cafeteria sign advertising that baked potatoes would be served for lunch.

An hour later Stan was shaken awake. “Someone is here to pick you up, Stanley.” Nurse Gollem told him sweetly.

Stan lifted his head and rubbed his eyes, his potato heart sinking to see it was his dad in the doorway. He looked a bit too frazzled.

“Staaaan?” Randy said. Before Stan could say anything back Randy grabbed him in a tight hug.

“Okay dad. I’m fine, I think. you can let me go.” Stan said, patting his dad on the shoulder.

“Stan, I was so worried. I got this call and had to come get you right away. Come on son, we can’t be late.” Randy takes his hand and drags him down the hall of the school.

“Late? What do you mean. Do I have a doctors appointment or something?” Stan asked as he tries to keep up with his fathers pace.

“No, Stan. Even better. Talent agent.” Randy grins.

“What?”

Stan found himself in a cushy office chair in downtown Denver. His father talking over with a fat balding man smoking a cigar.

“So I used to be a record producer but no one buys records anymore. So I got into advertising. With your son and his viral game we can get him endorsements.” The man was saying as he smoked.

“What kind of endorsements? How much are we talking about?” Randy asked.

“Dad? Dad! Can we go?” Stan asked, waving the smoke away. This couldn’t be good for him.

“Well the kid is famous for being part potato. I could get you a deal with I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter right now. They want to make their image cool to the millennials.” The guy continued.

“Millennial? I’m ten!” Stan grumbled.

“How much?” Randy asked again.

The agent shuffles the paperwork on his desk. “Let’s see, the deal for a young cool influencer here starts at 10K a video. You’ll make commercials and do some tie-ins for other stuff.”

Both Randy and Stan’s mouths drop open. “Ten thousand a video? Woohoo! We’re rich. Stan, you're gonna be famous! Where do I sign?” Randy reached for a pen.

“Wait what kind of videos? What do I have to do?” Stan frowned.

“Details will be worked out later. Here Mr Marsh. Welcome to Shady Talent Agency.” The agent shook his hand.

Tuesday morning Stan woke up. He yawned, stretched and rubbed his eyes. He looked at his closed bedroom door expectantly. His mother knocked on the door and opened it up as a camera crew and his father followed.

“Say the line.” The director guided Sharon.

Sharon tried to hide her distaste. “Stan, sweetie. Time for your daily medicine. Bacon, chives, sour cream and a large healthy glass of melted I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter, the only butter substitute good enough for the boy with the potato heart.” She forces a smile and puts the breakfast tray on Stan’s lap.

Stan made a face at the bright, hot lights and cameras shoved in his face. He takes his glass of butter, rolling his eyes as the director makes a gesture telling him to smile. “Yummy.” Stan said flatly as he sipped his glass of butter.

“Cut!” The director yelled out as Stan grabbed some water to choke down his bacon and chive pills. “Where is the enthusiasm?”

“About butter? Seriously?” Stan rolled his eyes.

Sharon sat down on the edge of Stan’s bed. “I’m sorry but that’s just how my son is. This isn’t the most pleasant experience for him or us.”

“What?” Randy said. “Come on, Stan. Ten thousand bucks an ad is on the line!”

“I just don’t want to be fake. It’s stupid and embarrassing. I’ll look like a loser and everyone will know the ad is full of shit.” Stan glares at the director. “Let me be myself and the ads will be better, just trust me dude.”

“Stan, you sure?” Sharon asked.

“Trust me, mom.” Stan took a deep breath and grabbed the lens of the camera so it was level to his face.

“Okay, roll.” The director orders.

“Hi, I’m Stan Marsh. A few weeks ago I was ice skating with a girl that I like and suffered a horrible accident.” His eyes narrow. “That was my own fault…Kyle. But I almost died. The doctors had to make me a new heart made out of a potato which totally sucks ass. But I guess it’s cool I didn’t die. Now I have to take all these condiments and fixings to keep the potato well seasoned.” His eyes move off camera to look at the director and his parents. “But I’ll document my journey here with living with a potato heart and using this fake butter crap to keep it maintained.” Stan smiles into the camera now and sips from the glass of butter. He doesn’t even make a face this time.

Stan walked into the school a week later. Again conversations stopped when he would pass people, but this time it was because his fellow students would ask to take pictures with Stan or congratulate him on his videos blowing up.

“You’re so funny, Stan!”

“So brave.”

“So honest.”

Stan held his head a little higher as he took selfies with his fans. The younger kids squealed and cried as they got to actually talk with their local celebrity.

“Hey, Stan.” Wendy smiled as she caught up with him in the hall.

“Hey, Wendy.” Stan put an arm smoothly around her as they continued to walk down the hall.

They pass Kyle leaning against the wall and glaring. His arms crossed. “Look at him, Kenny. Dude's ego got way too big.”

Kenny also stood slouched next to Kyle. “Yeah, why is he famous and rich now because he died.
No one ever gave me money for what I’ve been through.”

Kyle raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Kenny just grumbled before he was shoved to the side by Cartman. “Get out of my way, Kenny. Need to talk to my best friend!”

“His best friend?” Kyle said in shock.

Cartman rushed up to Stan. “Hey dude! Long time no see! How’s the YouTube and Tik Tok channels going?” He reached to push Wendy out of the way.

Stan took a deep breath and grabbed Wendy’s hand tighter. “What? You’re being nice since I’m getting successful on the internet, again?”

“Come on, Stan. We’ve always been cool. I have ideas to make our channel so much better!” Cartman put an arm around his shoulders. “Your own video game, movie. Imagine it, Stan. Just imagine.”

“I don’t know…” Stan started even as the corners of his mouth pulled into a smile.

Wendy was completely pushed out of the way now as Stan’s agent also shoved his way in. “Hey, hey, don’t crowd the talent!” The agent yelled at Cartman.

“Crowd? What percent are you giving Stan? Are you even thinking of the big picture? You need an idea man…” Cartman started to pitch as he and the agent moved Stan away.

Wendy glowered in anger and went to go stand with Kyle and Kenny.

Butters was already there, also leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “Why does Stan get to be the butter boy? Should be me, it’s my name. Then I could get the fame and bitches.”

Kenny giggled but Kyle shot him a death glare. “Shut up, Butters. Stan doesn’t actually like doing that stuff, he has to…right?” He uncrossed his arms and relaxed his posture as he looked at Kenny.

“I dunno. Looks awfully happy.” Kenny watched as Stan stopped to take a few more photos before being led by his agent and Cartman out the back door of the school.

Wendy went to go stand with Stan’s friends. Kyle narrowed his eyes at her. “What, you’re mad you’re not getting an endorsement from Wendy’s or something?”

“Sir, this is a Wendy’s.” Butters laughed at himself as the rest of the group groaned.

Wendy shook her head. “No, I'm really concerned about Stan. I didn’t want things to get this bad and I’m worried now that he’s actually listening to Cartman.”

Kyle held up a hand. “Okay, okay. We’ll put our differences aside for now. For the good of Stan. I don’t trust that tubby asshole either.”

“Sunday, Sunday, Sunday!” The announcement rang out all over Kyle’s social media by Thursday. “One night only, the debut of Stan Marsh playing his new game, Nightmare Cafeteria. Sure to be a night of horror and thrills from the hottest new online celebrity with the potato heart.”

“Ugh.” Kyle rolled his eyes as he scrolled all over the news. “How can anyone make anything good in a week? This has to be Cartman’s doing.”

He pulled up his group text with Kenny and his truce with Wendy. They had Butters in the group chat but kicked him out due to him being annoying. Kyle quickly forwarded the link.

Kyle: You see this shit?

Kenny: Looks kinda lame. Wonder how much he got paid for it.

Kyle: I’m more worried this stuff is going to his head. He won’t talk to me, Wendy can you?

Wendy: Of course Kyle, maybe I can knock some sense into him.

Stan laid on a table in the doctor’s office waiting for another scan of his chest. He kept his hands up and it was very quiet and almost claustrophobic in the machine.

He welcomed it.

No phone, no one to bother him about something, no one wanting him for health stuff, money or to drink down more butter. The silence to be alone with his thoughts was nice and peaceful.

Eventually the tunnel lit up and he shut his eyes in his little bit of peace as the scanner took pictures of his organs. Before he knew it he was out again and instructed to get dressed before the doctor would let him know about the results. He had a long day ahead of him.

He stood outside the hospital, hugging himself in the cold and trying to go over in his head all he had to do today. Meetings and contracts to sign. He’d get a new cool computer and streaming equipment in his room to make his own commercials and promote the game they made for him so quickly. Made him nervous and he barely had time to fit in this little doctor's appointment, but he had fans and money on the line. Couldn’t let them down.

He put a hand to his chest and thought about Kyle. Still mad about him insulting Wendy and not supportive of his new thing. His spirits lifted as he saw Wendy approaching to meet him.

“Hey, Wendy.” He reached over to hug her, still getting used to this having a girlfriend thing.

She hugged him back, her fingers digging into the back of his coat. “Stan, you have to be careful. I think this whole thing is getting out of hand.”

Stan pulled back and frowned at her. “What do you mean? This is the best thing to happen to me. I had nothing before.”

“That’s not true. How can you even think that?” Wendy’s eyes filled with tears. “You’re not who I thought you were or the boy who I liked.” She wipes her eyes and turns her back on him.

Stan felt a pain go through his potato heart. “Hey, Wendy no. Don’t do this. None of this would’ve happened without you. I wouldn’t be famous without you.”

“Being famous? That’s all you care about?” Wendy snapped at him.

“No, that’s not it at all. I owe this all to you. Just you wait, babe. This will all be worth it.” Stan grabbed both her hands in his and briefly squeezed. A moment later a stretch limo pulls up and the window rolls down.

“Stan, stop trying to get laid. We have a recording to do.” Cartman yelled from the limo.

“My ride's here. Don’t be mad.” Stan kissed Wendy on the cheek and hopped in the limo as it peeled out down the street.

She stood in shock on the street, holding her cheek. Stan wouldn’t listen but she had a very bad feeling about this.

Stan walked out onto the sound stage. They had formatted his bedroom to show the simple, cozy background but with a sweet gaming rig in front of the cameras and lights. He looked over his set up, nice headphones and microphone. He had a large glass with the I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter logo on it. He knows he’s getting all this cool stuff and the stream time because he’s getting paid by the company. Sales had been better since he had become the butter boy.

He squeezed his eyes shut, he didn’t want to fuck this up. He felt another weird shock of pain through his chest, it was more than just fighting with Wendy. Before he could worry about the pain his agent came up to him.

“Okay, Stan. This is your big moment. In just a few hours you’ll become a household name, among such big celebrities like Ronald McDonald, Chester Cheetah, or the snuggle bear.” He pat Stan on the back a little too hard.

Stan put a hand to his chest and tried not to fall over. “I’ll be on the level of a clown, a dorky cheetah or a nameless bear? Ugh.” Stan rubbed his chest again, rethinking of his selling out.

Cartman pushed through now. “Don’t you dare think of backing out. Come on, Stan. You’re gonna be rich after this, for playing video games for a living! That’s the dream!”

Stan nodded slowly. “I’m…just gonna lay down for a bit before the stream starts.”

“You do that, Stan.” Cartman took Stan’s phone to charge it. He saw a few missed calls from the hospital but deleted them. He had a show to film and Cartman had a cash cow to milk.

Wendy walked along the road with her hands in her pockets, she heard footsteps from behind as a very frazzled looking doctor approached her.

“Do you know Stan Marsh?” The doctor asked.

Wendy shrugged. “Thought I did, now I’m not so sure.”

The doctor frowned. “Little girl, this is very serious. He’s very butter deficient.”

Wendy gave him a weird look. “How can that be possible. He’s been drinking gallons of butter for the camera.”

“He’s been drinking margarine. He needs 100% pure diary fat butter or that potato in his chest is a ticking time bomb!” The doctor says.

“Oh no!” Wendy says. “We have to warn him. Stan!”

“Wake up, Stan. Wake up!” Cartman shook Stan roughly as Stan woke up from his stupor.

“Huh? What?” Stan yawned and looked around. “Five more minutes.”

“I swear if you fuck this up. It’s time for filming now.” Cartman yelled again.

Stan finally shoved him away. “Fine I’m ready, fatass.”

He stumbled and yawned as he sat down at his desk. He slipped on his headset, and looked up at the webcam, trying to get his head, and heart, into the game. He looked at the new sweet gaming computer he got, next to a supply of freshly melted I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter. His stomach turned at the thought of having to keep drinking this stuff every time he was jump scared.

Wake up you stupid idiot. He scolded himself. A lot of people are counting on you. He ignored the pain in his chest and smiled for the camera as he settled in to debut the game that was sponsoring him: The Butter Effect.

…really? That’s the name they came up with.

Stan sighed but forced a smile as the camera rolled. “Hi this is Stan and welcome to the stream.”

Wendy ran down the road after the doctor went back to the office to try and call Stan again. She ran until she reached the group of houses at the end of Bonaza Street. “Stan? Stan!” She yelled as she went to the front door.

“I’m sorry little girl, closed set. Can’t distract the talent.” A security guard pushed her off the doorstep.

“Please this is important, a matter of life and death. Stan needs real butter, not margarine.” Wendy begged.

Cartman appeared at the security guard’s side. “Get out of here, Wendy. Don’t say that or we won’t get paid. Marcos, get her out of here.” He snapped his fingers.

Marcos grabbed Wendy by the arm and tossed her out into the snow. Wendy let out a cry and hit the ground. She stood up to brush herself off and saw Kyle’s house a few doors down. She took off to find help from Stan’s friends.

Stan continued to smile for the camera, his eyes flicking to the corner of his screen as it showed his views and subscriptions go up. People watching were even donating money to him.

He focused on the game, where you had a first person view as the new dry cook in a fast food restaurant. Stan’s eyebrows knitted together at the first task the game gave him, he had to drop I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter into a fryer and cook up food for customers who were coming in. Not scary so far. Stan wanted to scoff that this was like one of those cheap mobile games but after a moment he got into the flow of the game as he made French fries and chicken strips for customers.

A moment later a notification popped up. “Customer complaint. Let’s see.” Stan moved his character around the screen as the views and donations raked in.

“Boss one, Karen. Fight!” The game notification popped up. “Oh holy shit.” Stan smiled as he grabbed his spatula and hot butter, prepared to do battle with an angry and entitled customer with a bad haircut.

Tears streaked down Wendy’s face as she ran to Kyle’s house and knocked on the door frantically.

Kyle answered a moment later, frowning. “They kicked you off set too?”

“Kyle! I talked to Stan’s doctor. He shouldn’t be drinking margarine.” Wendy cried out.

“Yeah that shit is gross.” Kenny said lazily from behind Kyle as Stan’s live stream was currently on the tv.

“I’d drink a whole bunch of margarine if I could be famous like Stan.” Butters said, making Kyle and Kenny glare at him.

“Butters, shut up.” Kyle snapped. “We tried to get in earlier but Cartman told security no one’s allowed. He’s hiding something and keeping us from Stan.”

“That’s what I’m saying. Stan’s going to get very sick, he should be drinking dairy butter and not margarine. If he keeps it up he’s going to have a heart attack!” Wendy cried.

“Don’t you mean potato attack?” Kenny asked, standing next to Kyle at the door. He looked at him worriedly. “He’s playing a horror game, that can’t be good for him.”

Boss defeated. The game announced as Stan sat back in his chair. His cheeks were flushed pink and he breathed in hard, never being winded after a tricky video game. His game character went up to grab a key off the body of the Karen monster, a baked potato stuffed in her mouth. It was almost disgusting but Stan grabbed the key from around the monster’s neck. He took a moment before he continued onto the next puzzle. The Karen monster’s eyes opened suddenly and glowed as she jumped scared him, her mouth spitting potato chunks at him.

“Gah.” Stan jumped, his headset knocked askew. “Fucking bitch, didn’t expect that. Well, everytime I get jump scared I have to drink. Bottoms up.” He grabbed a glass of melted I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter and brought it to his lips as he gulped it down. He’s gotten better at hiding his distaste, even if those who know him best would see some discomfort on his face.

Now if only he could do a better job at hiding and ignoring that crushing pain in his chest and down his left arm.

Kyle watched Stan on the tv at his first jump scare and chug down the margarine. He saw a slight grit to Stan’s teeth and a hand to his chest before he resumed playing the game. “Fucker. He doesn’t look good.”

Kenny looks around the Broflovski home and out to the back yard. “Maybe you can get a ladder or something and we can climb through the window to get to him?”

Kyle nodded. “My dad keeps the ladder in the garage, help me Kenny. Wendy, maybe you can log into the chat and try and warn Stan through there.

Wendy nodded and pulled out her phone to watch the stream. She rolled her eyes as she made a new account for the site.

Stan ignored his chest pain and moved on in his game. “Let’s see. Now I have the key so I’m going to unlock the door to the creepy basement of the fast food restaurant.” He clicked the door and had his little character walk through, he saw a box to his left. “Hmmm oh sweet, a butter gun.”

He saw the chat in the corner go crazy with his online fans cheering and the donation button getting hit like crazy. Then he saw a message in purple.

‘Stan, stop drinking the butter. Call your doctor. Danger.’

“Huh?” Stan looked at the next glass of melted I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter next to him. “This is a joke right?”

‘No! Stan. You’re gonna have a heart attack. Stop playing and go call your doctor!”

Wendy’s words were drowned out as the chat swelled with comments of ‘wouldn’t it be a potato attack?’ ‘This game is cool if it’ll kill you.’ ‘Damn, how scary is this game?’

Stan hesitated before he got back to his game, seeing the user had been banned by the chat admin. Cartman and his manager most likely. He opened his mouth to ask again when he was jumped scared by an evil blood dripping Ronald McDonald.

“Gaahhhh!” Stan leaped in his chair as his chest pain got worse. He took some deep breaths before he was prompted by the chat again to drink his butter. “Screw you, this is serious.”

“Is it?” A voice said from behind him, startling Stan again, his hand shaking as butter dripped down the side. “You have a deal with the sponsors Stan. Drink the butter.” Cartman told him.

Stan narrowed his eyes, but he looked at people tuning in to watch, the money pouring in and his own fame increasing. He nodded and drank the glass down again.

“Good boy.” Cartman patted his shoulder. “Use the code Potato Attack for a free butter gun to use when you buy this game.” Cartman said into the stream before slamming the door behind him.

Stan heard the door lock behind him and his eyes widened. “What the fuck? Am I a prisoner now?” He yelled. He jumped up to pound on the door but pain shot through his chest and he fell to his knees.

“Finish the level Stan and we’ll open the door.” Cartman yelled back before laughing and going down to watch on his monitor. Might as well add some drama to make the stream more popular.

“The fuck? Help! Someone help! I’m a prisoner!” Stan yelled as he crawled back across the floor and painfully pulled himself back up into his chair. He blinked back tears as he put his headset back on. “Help, someone help me please.” He asked into the camera before taking an uncomfortable breath and continuing his game.

Kyle, Kenny, Butters carried in the ladder from the backyard as Wendy growled in frustration. She was close to throwing her phone across the room. “Fatass kicked me out of the chat. At least Stan knows but he’s being held prisoner as he plays the game!”

“Wendy, call the cops…maybe the paramedics as well. Come on guys, let's try and rescue our friend, even if he’s an idiot.” Kyle said as they carried the ladder out the front door and snuck it next door to Stan’s house.

Stan’s hand shook as he continued to play the game. He felt his heart beat faster in anticipation, he was sure some stupid mascot was going to jump out and kill him but he was more terrified at who was outside his bedroom door. He loaded up his butter gun as he had his character journey deeper into the basement of the haunted fast food restaurant.

Chat had disappeared from his view but he hoped someone had realized he was seriously in danger and hopefully was sending help.

The next instructions came up on the screen for Stan. “Okay…stupid game. Go into the walk-in freezer and get some more chicken nuggets. Fine.” Stan held his tongue between his teeth and breathed in slowly to try and calm his potato heart.

He gently opened the door…

Darkness pure darkness as Stan’s character scrambled around the dark meat freezer as the door slammed behind him. He jumped again and put a hand to his chest as he searched his inventory for any source of light. He managed to find a glow stick and equip it, causing the freezer to be illuminated in dim yellow light. He kept journeying further and further into the freezer until a pair of eyes shone in the dark.

“The fuck?” Stan had his character pull back as he slipped on piles of frozen vegetables.

The creature broke into a smile, it’s teeth sharp and pointed. “Ho, Ho, Ho.”

“Arg Jolly Green Giant.” Stan looked around and saw a vent as he had his game character crawl through to try to escape as the green giant stepped forward to try and get him. Stan’s character climbed into the vent and crawled away as fast as he could. The giant was so big that hopefully it couldn’t grab him.

He crawled forward, getting into the game again as the chest pain radiated down his left arm. He grit his teeth as kept forward, he caught a glimpse of those spooky green eyes and yellow teeth in a vent as the jolly green giant broke through to jump scare and grab Stan.

Game over.

Stan fell out of his chair and to the floor, pain unbearable. He was going to die alone but have the whole thing captured on the stream. He shut his eyes as he felt butter come up out of his mouth.

Then the sound of a ladder clanging against his window as Kyle, Kenny, Wendy, and Butters scrambled into Stan’s bedroom.

Stan felt arms around him as he was lifted up. He lifted tired eyes up to see Kyle. “Thought you were mad at me?”

“Yeah dude but not gonna let you kill yourself. Wendy called an ambulance, you’ll get help.” Kyle hugged him tighter.

Stan coughed as more butter and small chunks of potato came up. “Might be too late for me, but glad I get to say goodbye to you one last time, I love you, man.”

Kyle shook him. “Don’t say that. Don’t fucking give up on me, Stan!”

There’s a pounding at the door as Stan’s breathing slows and he coughs up more butter. Wendy rushes over thinking it’s the paramedics but the manager and Cartman rush in.

“What happened to our star?” The manager yells.

“Think he’s having a heart attack. Have you not been paying attention?” Kyle hugs Stan again as his eyes slowly close and he goes still. “Nooooo! Stan, why!” Kyle yells dramatically as Stan quietly dies in his arms.

“Aw, that's just tragic. Now we need a new star. How bout you kid?” The manager points to Kenny.

“Me?” Kenny looks worriedly over Kyle and Wendy crying over Stan and the sweet gaming computer his friend would leave behind. “Sure, I’ll try.”

Kenny hesitates before grabbing the headphones and slipping them on. He stares at the camera for a few seconds before winking and taking over narration. “This game is so scary that it gave my friend a heart attack. Proceed at your own risk. Okay let’s escape this stupid giant and see what more of Butter Effect has in store for us.”

Kenny took over the role of the character with ease as he moved through the frozen walk in, even giving little sarcastic quips as the door slammed behind him. “Okay get ready for this giant green fucker.” Kenny says at the monster approaches him and he moves the game character into the vent.

He starts to crawl through and the giant's eyes glow as he shows his crooked yellow teeth. Kenny maneuvers his character to take a toner route and crawls as he shoots the butter gun behind him. “See this is why you need the butter gun, look how much it slows down the giant.” Kenny says as he puts more butter down. He looks over at the manger waving his hand at him as Kyle and Wendy cry over Stan. “Uhhh use code RIP Stan to get the free butter gun upgrade.”

“Maybe we can save him?” Kyle gets down and starts to press on Stan’s chest. Just more butter and potato chunks come up. “Now that’s just gross. I don’t know what to do, I’ve never had a friend die before.”

Kenny gets out of the vent and cheers, he’s running down a hall when the wall busts open and the demonic cult leader kool aid man jumps out to pour poison onto Kenny. His character slips on the butter from the gun and dies.

Kenny clutches his chest and his eyes roll back and he passes out and dies as well.

“We’ll…I’ve never lost an important friend anyway.” Kyle scoops up Stan’s dead body. “Why god whyyyy!”

As the rats drag off Kenny’s corpse the manager starts to argue with Cartman. “We can’t keep up the stream with no star. No star no stream.”

“No stream, no money.” Cartman thinks. “I’m sure as hell not gonna risk it. Butters, it's your time to uhhh shine or something.”

Butters nods, determined look on his face as he sits in the chair now to grab the headphones. “Wow, this game is real neato fellas. Hi mom, dad! I’m on TV.”

“No you’re not, ugh. Don’t fuck it up Butters.” Cartman grumbles. “The chat views and money is still pouring in.”

Butters clicks the mouse around before he realizes the character is walking into a wall. He figures out he needs the keyboard to make the guy move.

“Goddammit this new kid sucks, cut to commercial.” The agent says as he cuts the game.

Butters watches as a Burger King commercial pops up with the Burger King himself giving his dead eyed stare.

“Areegggggg!” Butters screams as he pisses his pants and runs off. The chat blows up with laughter and lots of ‘what the hell was that?’ as the fans tuning in start to take their donations back.

“No, no way. That wasn’t even the game? The sponsors are gonna be pissed. Shut it down. This thing was a flop. You’re fired!” The manager threw his clipboard at Cartman as he stormed off.

Cartman stares in shock as the money from the stream dwindles down to zero. It’s completely silent except for the sounds of Kyle and Wendy crying over Stan’s dead body.

“But, I’m still getting paid for this right?” Cartman asks again. He’s still in shock as the worst thing that can happen to him personally dawns on him. “Right? God fucking dammit!”