Just An Average Night At Willie's

First up, a quick apology to anyone who story alerted my recent fic Life – I've decided to abandon it, mainly because I've had a crappy time recently and I haven't had time to write it, and I seem to have hit a brick wall with it. Maybe it'll come back in the future in some form. Once again, sorry!

I came up with the idea for this fic while at work (shows you how interesting my job is…), and I just had to write it. I promise I will finish this one! Anyway, enough ramblings, on with the story!

Chapter 1

Kenny's POV

Weird stuff happens in South Park a lot, I'll admit that. Hell, I'm one of the weirdest things round here. We get coach-loads of Japanese tourists travelling through the town on their way to Denver, and they always stop outside my house, amongst other places, to gawp. You see, I'm the kid who dies. I'm pretty convinced that'll be my epitaph (if I ever have one) – the kid who dies.

On the odd occasion when nothing weird is happening, we all hang out at Whistlin' Willie's pizza place. At 17, we're too young for the bar and Shakey's has really gone downhill since it got taken over, so this is the only place to hang out, unless you wanna freeze your nuts off at Stark's Pond with the sixth graders. Willie's is gayer than Big Gay Al's sanctuary for gay animals, but you gotta take what you can get. I learned that from my parents.

I'm on my way to Willie's right now with my 'date' for the night, Wendy Testaburger. I say 'date' because this'll be her first time going out with a guy who isn't Stan Marsh, and already, sitting with her in my dad's pickup, I can tell her heart's not in it. She's sitting quietly, hands clasped in her lap, staring out of the side window. She looks like she's going to a funeral rather than on a date.

We arrive at Willie's and I search for somewhere to park, which is made all the more difficult by the sheer lack of space, and the fact that people just park anywhere. I find a small space just across the road from Willie's, and manage to squeeze the pickup into it. We have a fender bender with an old Buick parked in front that I think belongs to Clyde Donovan, but whatever. People should learn to carpool.

I can't help but admire Wendy as we walk in. She's wearing wet look leggings, which perfectly emphasise her long legs, and a blue minidress. Her long black hair is wavy rather than the usual poker straight. She looks amazing. It definitely makes up for her lack of enthusiasm.

We find a booth and sit down. Willie's is busy, which is fairly normal for a Friday night. All the usual crowd are in – Kyle Broflovski and Bebe Stephens are sharing a corner booth and making out as though their lives depended on it, Pip Pirrup and his boyfriend, Damien (the Antichrist) are sitting at one of the tables in the middle feeding each other pizza, Craig Tucker is irritating a group of girls sat in another booth, Clyde and Annie are at another table (from the looks of things, their date is going about as well as mine), and lastly Butters Stotch, Tweek, Jimmy, Timmy, and, rather surprisingly, Token Black are all sat round a large table towards the back, otherwise known as the Dateless Table (okay, I'll admit, I've sat there myself a couple of times). The only notable absence is Eric Cartman, who got a 2 week ban a few nights back for trying to steal money from the pinball machine. He's probably at Stark's Pond, trying to score pot off the sixth graders.

"What would you like?" I ask Wendy, signalling Willie, who's busy serving the Dateless Table. We don't need to look at the menu; we know it off by heart.

"I don't mind. You choose," she replies, smiling unconvincingly.

All righty, then. It may not be a barrel of laughs so far, but at least this date can't get any worse. Just as I think that, in walks Wendy's ex Stan, with his arm around Red. Oh, thank you, Jesus. Not. Wendy's reaction says it all. Her eyes fill with tears as she watches them go over to say hi to Kyle and Bebe, who've briefly come up for air.

"You okay?" I ask.

As I say that, Red looks over this way, spots us and says something to Stan. She giggles and nudges him in the ribs. Stan looks at us, but his expression is unreadable. He smiles at Red as she grabs his hand and leads him to the pinball machine. I glance at Wendy and then wish I hadn't. She blinks rapidly a few times and turns towards the window, staring out at the snow rather than her ex-boyfriend. God, I hate Stan right now.

I look away before I glare a hole in his back, and find myself looking at Kyle and Bebe, who're eating pizza now, instead of each other. Bebe has had a thing about Kyle since elementary school and has wanted to date him for ages. Finally, a couple of weeks ago, Kyle caved in and asked her out. I can't help feeling a little sorry for him though – he really doesn't know what he's letting himself in for. Bebe Stephens is one crazy bitch. I should know, I dated her for a while. Right now, she's got that naughty look on her face that I know so well. She 'accidentally' knocks a fork off the table and disappears under it to retrieve it. About 30 seconds later, Kyle jumps violently.

"Bebe, what the hell are you…oh Jesus Christ." He grips the table, hard.

"Slut." There's almost resentment in Wendy's tone as she says it. We can't help but stare at Bebe, whose blonde head is just visible between Kyle's legs. Mind you, we're not the only ones staring. Clyde can't take his eyes off Kyle and Bebe, not just because of what's going on under that table, but also because he fancies Bebe rotten. Clyde and Kyle haven't spoken since he hooked up with Bebe. Poor Annie has to smack Clyde around the head to get his attention; he glares at her indignantly as he rubs the back of his head.

I guess I'm not the only one on a fake date tonight.

Well, that's it for chapter 1, short and sweet! This was supposed to be a oneshot originally, but it just got longer and longer, so I've decided to multi-chapter it instead! Anyway, hope you're enjoying, and remember…

Reviews are good! Thank you! Chapter 2 up soon