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Philip hastily walked through the high-school’s lengthy halls, dodging and weaving past and through people as he did. He got to his locker and put the 5-digit code in, swinging it open and grabbing the extra keys he put in there before closing it again.
“Hey Frenchie!” the tub of lard bellowed as he threw a screwed-up paper ball at the brit’s head, ”Why’re ya in such a rush, huh? Gotta get home to your mommy- oh wait! you’re an orphan” his posse of tormentors laughed along. Philip winced a bit as he just hung his head low and rushed through the crowd.
“Where is he going?” Stan asked, ”Normally he’s one of the LAST to leave.” He crossed his arms.
“Dude i dont know!” Kyle shouted, “Its suspicious though…”
“mmph-mmph mph mmph mph mrph mmph.” (maybe we should check it out) Kenny said, stuffing his hands into his parka pockets.
“Sure, we can beat him up when we find him anyways!” Cartman grinned and chuckled evilly as they left the school to follow Pip.
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Pip knocked on the old shed in the woods, the one with rotting and discombobulated wood and moss all over it.
“What do you want you American idio- Oh, bonjour, Philipe. Pourquoi as-tu mangé ici ?” Christophe coughed and tilted his head slightly, looking around for any spies or passers-by.
“I am here for my guitar, we are doing a gig tonight, remember?” Philip had gotten used to Christophe’s ‘accidental french’ and decided the best way to get around it is to learn some of the language, which he wholly hated. Christophe spluttered and stormed inside, the floor boards creaking behind him.
“GREGORY!” He shouted,”SINCE WHEN DID WE HAVE A GIG?! HM?!”
“Well i thought you knew! I told you the day i arrange it, but you werent listening and you refused to because you were playing your drums YET AGAIN and knew i was talking to you but thought it was a *great idea* to just ignore me.” Gregory scoffed from inside the cabin. l
“Beetch.” Christophe crossed his arms and leant back on the broken door frame, “Come in, step over the blunts.”
Philip cautiously stepped inside, not knowing Stan, Kyle, Cartman and Kenny were watching stealthily from in a bush.
“So what now, fatass?” Asked Kyle, being as quiet as he could.
“Hey!” Cartman yelled as Stan quickly shushed him, “What we’re gonna do is we’re gonna show up to their ‘gig’ “ Cartman air-quoted, “And were gonna crash it! Then they’ll see what a stupid fag he really is!”
“Thats a pretty faulty plan, Cartman..” Stan whispered in reply.
“Whatever.” Cartman crossed his arms as the bush rustled in response to him. He quickly noticed them all leaving the shed, with one extra person… Damien Thorn. They knew Damien and Pip, but not the other two. They were all dressed weirdly as well, Pip didn’t look so… British or ‘French’ as he normally did, he wore baggy black jeans with white stitches and an oversized tee with holes in it. His hair was done up in a loose, short ponytail but he still had his prized newsie cap on. Damien more or less looked exactly the same from what he did all those years ago, but he had more piercings now and he was a tad bit taller.
Pip had a guitar case on his back and Damien was using his powers to carry a whole cased-up drum-kit with him. The actual french one has another guitar-looking case in his back and the fruity one had a wide rectangular case that he was just holding in his hand.