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justahopelessaromantic · 5 months

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The punks are writing love songs (Oh-oh)

Fandom: South Park Ships: Style, Stendy, Tolkien/Nichole, and Bendy Disclaimer: The author of this work does not condone/endorse the messages, themes, and concepts presented by South Park. Considering how said work is melodramatic gay fanfiction written in theatrical script format of all things, I'm sure this seems reasonable to assume. However, it’s astonishing how many times I've stumbled upon people in this fandom who are wholehearted believers of almost everything the show says, and, quite frankly, I would rather evaporate from this plane of existence than potentially be presumed as a bigot or, god forbid, a centrist. Summary: "Abbreviate the longish names / You can bet that hearts will beat (Ooh-ooh) / The sort-of clever and nostalgic ones / Will sing their poems at breakneck speed" (Or:) It's a common writing practice among the pretentious and the soulful to put a little piece of themselves into their work, like a prize or easter egg of sorts for the listener to find. No one gave Nichole the memo.

SETTING:

The edge of a school cafeteria. Two wide exit doors are implied by characters walking off stage. Three standard lunch tables are scattered about the right side of the stage. Two or three teens, at least one of them eating something visually dull and unappetizing off of a lunch tray, sit at various tables, implying lunch is almost over and students have begun to leave in preparation for class. The tables look improperly washed, and there’s litter and a touch of graffiti scattered around the place. Optionally, a wilting potted plant can hang in the corner and/or posters, either inspirational or about school info., can be plastered haphazardly over some of the wall’s damages.

STAN is sitting at the table closest to down right, one chair away from the very edge. He’s clearly frustrated, yet incredibly focused, to the point where it looks like he’s at least partially unaware of his surroundings. He constantly switches from scribbling on a notepad, furiously erasing, and fiddling with the acoustic guitar hanging off his shoulder. NICHOLE emerges from stage left, briskly walking to the exit before stopping in her tracks. TOLKIEN sits at the opposite end of the table, patiently taking notes on his laptop from a textbook.

NICHOLE

(Whipping back around to take up the chair next to him, throwing her backpack on the floor.)

Oh, hey, Stan! So you’re still working on that song, right? About the guy and his girlfriend and the freaking out over,

(Taking an audibly sharp breath before taking on the stereotypical performing voice of a Shakespearean actor, gingerly placing a hand over her heart)

“The divine horror of impending familiarity found deep within the labors of a dear lover”,

(Teasingly)

As you so pretentiously named it?

TOLKIEN

(Looking up at the sound of her voice before smiling like he knows exactly what's about to happen, slowly closing his laptop, and pushing it to the side so he can rest his head on hand to watch them)

STAN

(Jerking up at the sound of her voice, decently surprised by her sudden and energetic involvement, before adjusting and gradually responding with a calm and friendly demeanor)

…I mean…as humiliating as it may be to admit, I write, like…a lot of those. You’re gonna wanna be a tad more specific.

NICHOLE

(Acting playfully exasperated before breaking out into a smile and lazily pointing a finger in Tolkien’s direction)

Oh, I know. You're more of a romantic than this dill weed.

TOLKIEN

(Fondly)

Takes one to know one.

NICHOLE

(Scoffing bashfully and waving her wrist)

Shut up.

STAN

(Clumsy jerking away as she grabs his notebook from underneath him, shooting Tolkien a comically exaggerated stupefied look)

TOLKIEN

(Casually shrugging his hands up while smirking)

NICHOLE

(Stealing the pen from Stan, startling him again, and jotting stuff down, occasionally glancing back up to check if he’s paying attention and emphasizing with her hands)

Ah, here we go! Okay-

(Getting distracted)

It’s turning out lovely, by the way. I mean it’s probably gonna be up there with “Dropping Like Fireflies” and “My Favorite Boy, My Dearest Wildfire”. I guess it's fitting, though, since the first one’s about the death of your dreams, and the second one’s about unjust yearning that everyone figures is getting kinda old, and they’re both really about outgrowing opportunity that sort’ve, may or may not have been real in the first place, and so is this, but…I mean…I hope you don’t take this as critique. Just, like…an idea or something.

STAN

(Speaking drastically slower than her and grinning with amusement)

Considering I only scribble this shit on McDonald’s napkins for geniuses like you to pick apart later, I would be delighted to hear it.

NICHOLE

(Sighing in slight relief)

Oh! Great. Okay, so-

(Stealing the pen from Stan, startling him again, and jotting stuff down, occasionally glancing back up to check if he’s paying attention and emphasizing with her hands)

Imagine you’re the guy, right?

STAN

(Playfully saluting with two fingers)

Can do, teach!

NICHOLE

(Lightly giggling)

And you're at her doorstep, picking her up for your date, and you notice how she’s only wearing a super casual dress, like one you don’t have to zip up or anything, you just throw it over your head and you're good? But usually, she dresses up for this kinda thing, with, like, a buncha layers. Like, like one of the characters from a Disney sitcom from the 2000s, yaknow what I mean?

STAN

(Nodding ridiculously intently, like he completely understands what she means. He does not)

NICHOLE

(Smiling brightly before cheerily going back to it)

Right! So she’s dressing weird, and she keeps messing with her hair, even though she never does that, ‘cause it takes her forever to do, and she hates messing it up. And then she calls you babe, instead of babydoll, which she never does. And then- And she’s not looking at you when she says this! She’s looking out at the distance, like, wistfully and forlorn!

STAN

(Jumping in with overzealous intrigue after Nichole realizes how pretentious those words might sound and how into it she’s been getting and freezes up)

Yeah, okay, I’m following ya!

NICHOLE

(Seeming pleasantly surprised, yet still visibly toning herself down)

Oh! But, ah, anyway. So then she starts complaining about how she had to leave some big sleepover early for this damn date, and that she and what’s-her-name planned it for weeks. Even though you always have date night around this time of the month and she scheduled it today anyway, which sets off alarm bells in your head, but whatever, right? You're probably just being paranoid again, and that’s what she’s gonna diagnose you with, ‘cause she’s a total, sort’ve…

(Gesturing unintelligibly and then later trying to catch her breath)

…armchair therapist anyway, and you’ve done that with your best friend too, so why even bother bringing it up? But then she goes into, like…crazy detail. Suspicious, crazy detail.

STAN

(Immediately sliding forward, leaning in closer to her in fascination while his fist holds his chin up and covering his mouth)

NICHOLE

(Getting visibly caught up in the romance by the end)

All of a sudden, she starts goin’ on and on about how she always makes banana pancakes and scrambled eggs in the morning before her dearest friend wakes up, ‘cause those are her favorite, and she always sleeps in too late, and what’s cooler than-

STAN

(Slowly growing more fidgety and visibly flustered as Nichole passionately and tenderly paints the picture)

NICHOLE

-watching your absolute bestie trail after the smell of their favorite breakfast into the kitchen, hair a mess, curls all over the place, and her eyes are all droopy n’ peaceful, and she’s giving you the cutest, tight-lipped smile you’ve ever seen as a neat little thank you? When it just makes you wanna…

(Waves hands around aimlessly until pausing, turning her head to look Stan in the eyes, and viciously squashing his now boiling red cheeks in between her hands)

Hmph…You know?

Stan desperately tries to save face. And fails. Miserably.

STAN

(Sounding squished due to the hands on his face)

May- uh…Maybe your brill- uh, lovely way with…wor-

TOLKIEN

(Cutting Stan off before nodding in Nichole’s direction, sounding absolutely enamored and brimming with wonder by the end of his slightly animated story)

Absolutely nothing. Not even that.

(Leaning over the table, arm and hands soon sliding all around, showing clear engagement with the conversation)

Me and Nicky woke Clyde up with crepes one time. He screamed “Holy shit, rich people pancakes!” so loud, the neighbors definitely heard it, shoveled them into his stupid puffy cheeks like a freakin’ chipmunk, and gave us “syrup kisses”–and yes, he did call them that–before accidentally hitting me with his backpack and making a mad dash for my car. All while never actually saying the words “Thank you”.

(Looking up to meet Stan’s eyes, trying to convince with his tone)

I…don’t think a nicer display of friendship exists, Stan. I don’t think this world is good enough to handle it.

NICHOLE

(Stopping herself before she gets caught up in reminiscing)

Oh, yeah! That was- Oh! No, no, no, wait, okay, wait. Okay, so the girlfriend tells you all that, right?

STAN

(Slowly, clearly dazed from the overload of information from both sides)

…Uh, y-yeah, right, I- I gotcha…

NICHOLE

(Gradually starting to emphasize her words more heavily)

And then she mentions how they both help with cleanup, ‘cause it's actually fun at their house. there. Plus, she wants to make a good impression on her mom, and thank her for having her over, yadda, yadda, yadda. You know the drill. And then they get started on homework, even though it's a Saturday. And, sure, your girlfriend’s a total freak who fucking loves school and stuff, but who the hell actually does homework on a Saturday, unless…

(Gestures to him, like he’s supposed to fill in the blank, and dramatically explains the rest when he stays quiet like nothing happened)

She’s with someone whose company makes Calculus and scrubbing syrup off dirty dishes worth it. And that’s how your character realizes what’s going on, ‘cause he’s totally been there and all that good stuff.

STAN

(Confused)

…He…He has?

NICHOLE

(Intensely, voice lowered)

But here’s the thing.

(Points to Stan and then herself)

You and I know that, ‘cause we know what the song’s about, ‘cause we’re co-writing it.

STAN

(Quietly confused)

We are?

TOLKIEN

(Casually typing up notes again and speaking with certainty)

Yup.

NICHOLE

(Ignoring him before gesturing to the audience watching this play)

But they know that, because I just gave them a buncha context clues to sift through. I didn’t have to turn around, break the fourth wall, and go:

(Shuffling her body over to face the audience)

“Hey, the grand twist in my friend’s song is that his girlfriend is falling for someone else, and he totally should be freaking out, ‘cause he knows exactly where this is headed:”

STAN

(Voice filling with terror)

I should?

NICHOLE

“The corner of nowhere and angstville!”

STAN

(Pauses for a beat before audibly squeaking)

NICHOLE

(Turning back to Stan and pointing her finger at the audience, speaking like she’s proud of herself)

They figured it out all on their own.

STAN

(Pitch shifting in mortification)

They did?

TOLKIEN

(Leaning in towards Stan and Nichole)

Also, follow-up question: Who is “they”? You're pointing to a brick wall, babe.

NICHOLE

(Dismissively)

Don’t worry about it.

TOLKIEN

I mean, I will anyway, but okay.

NICHOLE

(Joyfully and dramatically picks up the songbook, shuts it, and pushes it into Stan’s hands, placing her hand on the cover in triumphant confidence)

So, you don’t have to keep all those extra lines where you go,

(Recounting song lyrics in the style of dramatic poetry)

“Should I be taken’ notes? Will this be on her heart’s homeroom quiz?” and “Have I been down this sorry road before? Is it my time to send her on her way, without me?”. The crowd’ll get the point just fine!

STAN

(Awkwardly laughing to cover up his latent fear)

…I mean…bold of you to assume I play in front of crowds…or that I still want them to “get it” after…this…Or that anyone in this town will be “fine” about any of this…But, uh…

(Placing a hand on her shoulder while genuinely trying to sound thankful, but falling flat due to shock)

…Thanks?

NICHOLE

(Starts shying away, awkwardly swinging her backpack back over her shoulders and standing up)

I mean, I was just thinking about that, and I thought it could, um…help! Maybe. But, yeah, so I’d better head to class, so, uh, yeah good- uh, goodbye!

(Shortly waving before speeding away while staring down at the floor, mortified)

STAN

(Staring at her walk off, then slowly raising his hand to wave back, pale and dazed, before turning to look out at the audience)

Dude…Your girlfriend is insane…Or got the gift of prophecy from Apollo.

(Pauses for a beat)

Or some wisdom shit from Athena.

TOLKIEN

(Nonchalantly with a proud smile on his face, yet still showing pity/concern for Stan)

And yours is in the same boat as you, bud. So…good luck, and ah…

(Getting up, patting him on the shoulder, and walking off)

Save a writer’s credit for my girl on your big album debut, okay? I’m buying every CD!

END OF PLAY.

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