What you want
Though they had a usual volatile on and off relationship, Stan and Wendy have been going steady for the last three months. Which was amazing in Stan’s book, he felt like he was on top of the world with her every time they were “on” for the past god knows how long.
So you can’t excuse him when she asked him to a nice fancy dinner in Denver, expecting her to finally pop The Question. Wendy was always the more dominant one in their relationship after all.
“Oh she’s so going to ask for your hand,” Kenny told his friend as they were walking towards their room of their shared fraternity, “It’s Wendy, man, what do you expect?”
Stan gave him a wide smile, “You really think so? God, what should I wear?” He unlocked the door and rummaged through his closet to look for anything presentable. Wearing a limited edition Broncos’ tuxedo somehow didn’t seem like the best idea.
The blonde shrugged as he threw himself onto their shitty couch. “One,” Kenny held up a finger for Stan to see, “You’re fucking loaded thanks to your dad’s weed farm, so you could wear literally anything. Two,” he held up a second, “Butters is good with fashion, text him or something.”
He looked at his blonde friend, “You sure that’s the only reason I should text Butters?”
All Stan got was a shrug for an answer.
For some reason, Butters wasn’t a part of their fraternity, but considering how he practically spent all his time there, he was basically a part of their brotherhood anyways.
Nevertheless, he texted Butters about needing help for fashion.
It took a while, but soon Stan went to Macy’s with Kenny, Butters, and Jimmy in tow. The trio grabbed as many tuxedos as their hands could carry and Stan began to look like a human coat rack.
“Irh es rlhmy nesheiay?” He tried asking through the layers of fabric.
Jimmy tilted his head, “W-what was that Stan?” as he put another tux on his arm
“...”
Kenny rolled his eyes and took off the tuxedos that covered his friend’s face.
“I said,” He coughed a bit to clear his mouth of the extra fabric bits, “Is all of this really necessary?”
Butters chuckled, “Of course it is silly! This is the most important date of your life! You can’t just go and wear something you bought on sale!” He pushed Stan into the nearest men’s changing room.
“Now go try those on dude!” Kenny yelled once Stan went into the stall.
Every time he went back out to show the trio, however, they all had choice words to share with the jock.
“Too bland.”
“Or-orange is so not yo-your color.”
“You don’t seriously think that one looks good, right?”
He was tired of their comments by tux #25 , “Guys you chose these, you can’t just hate everything I try!” To emphasize his point he grabbed the ones he already wore and threw them on the bench Jimmy was sitting on.
They all frowned at him. “Stan, tonight is going to change your life forever, work with us here,” Kenny looked him in the eyes as he grabbed his shoulder.
Stan sighed before walking back into the stall, “Fine…”
Two and half hours later, Stan finally had the perfect tuxedo. He fixed his tie again as he waited for Wendy to pick him up at his fraternity house.
“Calm down dude!” Kenny laughed at Stan when he re-refixed his tie for the millionth time.
The jock gave him a look, “So I’m not allowed to worry about my appearance for ten minutes but you can for three hours?”
“Yes.”
Stan rolled his eyes at the reply and was going to retort when suddenly Wendy walked into the frat house. He tripped over himself, trying to reach her, smiling dumbly when she laughed at his antics.
“Are you ready to go, Stan?” She held out an arm for him to latch on. He nodded and they left with her car to go to a fancy Italian restaurant. He could hear the cheers that came from those inside as the door closed behind them.
The drive was uneventful but Wendy did look nervous for what’s to come, which steeled Stan’s nerves a bit, he briefly wondered where she was hiding The Ring.
----
Stan looked around the Italian restaurant, seeing a vase on the center of their table, with a single red rose inside. Little tea cup candles surrounded the vase and a chandelier above them were decorated in beautiful lights. He could hear a gentle violinist play their instrument in the background.
It was a perfect setting to get engaged in.
“You look perfect,” Wendy smiled at him.
“No you,” He smiled back at her.
“No you,” She replied.
He rolled his eyes playfully, “Okay.”
“So Stan,” Wendy started after the waitress came over and gave them their waters, “I want you to know how happy you’ve made me. You’re really a great guy. Everyone dreams of a guy who looks like you. And well, you know I’m going to Harvard.”
He smiled, “Yeah, you’re gonna try and be a senator right?”
“Yeah,” She hesitated as she tried to find the right words, “And well, Harvard is a pretty serious place to be in, filled with very serious people.”
Stan tilted his head, “What do you mean Wendy?”
She took a breath before continuing, “I’m breaking up with you.”
Stan was taking in her words when, all at once, time stopped as he finally understood what she meant, “WHAT??”
“What do you mean you’re breaking up with me, Wendy!?!” He stood up from his seat, “I thought you were proposing?” Tears began to weld up in his eyes, and soon enough Stan was crying.
The woman in question slunk into her seat when she noticed people began to stare. “Stan, it’s just that, I need someone serious. Not someone I break up with practically weekly.” Wendy went over to sooth him, accidentally going down on one knee doing it, which made him cry even harder.
“But I am serious,” he spoke softly, the tears slowly streamed down his crestfallen face, “I’m seriously in love with you.”
Wendy looked at him, “Stan we’ve been dating for three months.”
“Yeah! But we've been together for over ten years!”
“Stan-” she began but he cut her off.
“I should go.”
“I’m sorry,” Wendy said as he ran away from her and out of the restaurant. She took another sigh before calling over their waiter, “Check please.”
---
Jimmy perked up when he noticed Stan walk in, “Stan the m-m-man! H-how was the en-gagmeh, en-gae-mehhh, eng-gage-mehhhhhh,” he sighed before continuing, “What’s your ring look like?”
Stan was going to say something but Butters jumped up from off the couch, “Oh yeah! Does it have a big shiny stone on it?”
“I-”
“It’s obvious she went with something less flashy, it’s Wendy guys, she probably proposed with something more conservative,” Kenny rolled his eyes at his friends suggestions.
“Guys-”
“You think she got him a peridot?” Butters asked, “I think that color would really compliment your eyes.”
Kenny and Jimmy nodded, “Yeah blue and green go g-gr-great together.”
“Will you just listen to me?!?”
The trio were confused at his outburst, “What is it Stan?
“Wendy broke up with me.”
They looked at the black haired man like he grew a second head. Kenny was the first to recover from the shock, “You’re kidding right?”
Stan choked back a sob as everything began to set in, “She says I’m not serious enough,” he wiped his tears with the tux they spent three hours finding. He latched onto Kenny and cried his heart out on his friend’s shoulder.
Kenny stood there awkwardly before patting his back, “There there Stan, we’re always here for you.” Jimmy and Butters followed and soon the black haired man was enveloped in a hug.
He looked at his friends, tearing no longer streaming down his eyes, “Thanks guys, it means a lot.”
--------------
“Stan it’s been tw-twelve days,” Jimmy called out as he knocked on the jock’s door.
Butters held a bag of candy accusingly, “We know you’ve been eating milky ways!”
Jimmy’s face scrunched up at the sugary sweets, “Please tell me those are fu-fun sized.”
Kenny sighed, “Dude come on, you can’t just stay in there forever.”
A muffled voice came from the other side of the door, “I can and I will!”
“Stan…”
“We got you the new Sports Illustrated?” Jimmy told him, giving Butters the magazine for him to slide under the door. They all smiled when the door began to open.
To say Stan’s seen better days would be an understatement.
His hair was unkempt and greasy, stubble were sticking out, eyes were red rimmed and sunken, and there were a million mystery stains on the clothes he most likely hadn’t changed out of since he locked himself inside his room. Quite frankly? He looked like total horse shit.
The door was opened wide and he stood there, thumbing through the magazine.
Butters smiled the widest when the door was fully opened, “I think the baggy clothes really define your figure, Stan!”
“Butters that won’t help Stan’s sh-shame spiral,” Jimmy shook his head at the blonde.
Kenny rolled his eyes, “You’re just gonna have to hold on dude, the NFL's Hall of Fame award isn’t announced until next week.”
Stan smiled softly at his friends’ attempts at a pick-me-up before noticing a large spread inside the magazine. “Holy shit!,” he held it out for his friends to see, “It’s Wendy’s cousin and her bride, pictures from their wedding...” He took in the two women, Wendy’s cousin was a well endowed tennis player while her new wife was one of the greatest chess players in the world, they looked to be pretty serious people.
Wait.
Wait.
Wait.
“This is the kind of person Wendy wants! Someone serious! Someone lawyerly! Someone who doesn’t cry when the Broncos lose the Superbowl!” He dropped the magazine during his revelation, “Guys! I have a completely brilliant plan!”
The trio looked at him, “That is?”
“I’M GOING TO HARVARD!”
They all shouted in cheer before Kenny realized what exactly his friend was saying.
“That’s a nice plan and all, dude, but please think this through. Harvard Law School?”
Stan rolled his eyes, “Oh come on Kenny, I have a 4.0 average.”
“In Exercise Physiology…” he sighed, “What really makes you think you could do this?”
“Duh, love obviously. I love Wendy so much that Harvard would never not think of letting me in!” The dirty blonde crossed his arms, not impressed with Stan’s reason, so he continued, “Don’t lawyers feel love too?”
Jimmy put his hand on the black haired man’s shoulder, “What you want is a la-large order, you’re gonna wreck your sen-senior spring!”
“Yeah it looks like you’re gonna need an LSAT score of at least 175 to even think about applying,” Butters showed them his phone to show them one of Harvard’s requirements.
“No more parties for you dude,” Kenny almost wanted to laugh at Stan’s scrunched up face, “you’re gonna need a bomb ass essay and stellar recommendation letters.”
His face dropped for a few seconds, but Stan was filled with determination to see this through, “Oh I’m fuckin’ getting into Harvard Law, nothing’s gonna stop me now.”
-----------
Except maybe his parents…
“Law school?!” Randy shouted over the sounds of his tractor, “Stan you wanna go into Law school? Why? That’s the place only for boring, ugly, serious people!”
Sharon rolled her eyes, “Shut up Randy, I believe in you Stanley, we’ll gladly pay your way only if you can get in, right Randy?”
“Yeah, yeah,” the man in question waved his hand dismissively at his wife and son.
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Or the fact that there’s a party right outside the frat house....
“Fellas! Fellas!” Butters came running in with men and women clad in the skimpiest swimwear, “It’s the Spring Fling Beer Bash Extreme!” He ran back outside, taking most of the frat brothers outside with him.
Stan felt his mouth water as he got up from the table where he was studying at, only to be pushed back down by some unseen hand, “Wha?”
“Not for you,” Kenny’s stern voice left no room for argument.
“But, but, but this year’s theme is-” He desperately needed to be out there.
“Do you wanna go party?” Stan nodded like his life depended on it, “Or, do you want to get into Harvard Law?” Kenny smirked when the black haired man frowned and looked down.
“Harvard Law…”
“Good. Now keep studying, you got a 151 and that’s not good enough. But you’ll get a 176 soon enough Stan, we all believe in you.” Kenny patted his friend’s back reassuringly.
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Or because the Harvard acceptance team is full of prudes…
“We let in Jason White and Bebe Stevens,” the oldest, most wrinkliest man of the trio said, “what about Stanley Marsh?” He frowned while pulling out of a photo of the young man in question.
The less wrinkly but still old woman never felt younger looking at the jock, “He’s applying?”
“He does have a 4.0 average!” the youngest of the group, a man aged around 64, stated. He too felt like he was in his early 20’s while looking at Stan.
“In Exercise Physiology.” The eldest deadpanned.
She needed to make sure this Stanley Marsh got in, “But look at his fa- I mean LSAT score! A 176!”
“And he has a recommendation letter from Roger Goodell!” Damnit, he needed to see Stan in too.
The eldest rolled his ancient eyes, “Is this really the face you want to see represent Harvard Law?” The two looked at each other, then nodded back at him.
“Yes.”
“Fine,” He groaned at his horny peers, who smiled sheepishly at him,
“Welcome to Harvard Law, Stanley Marsh.”