Olympics!!
Wendy wiped at her face with the heel of her hand. “Morning everyone,” she said hoarsely. “Do the thing.”
“Trent Boyett,”
“Ike Broflovski.”
The door behind Wendy opened. Their third manager stepped out, throwing his unruly copper coils up into a ponytail. “Kyle Broflov…ski.” His mouth fell open slightly as he looked around the group, jaw fully dropping as his eyes landed on Marjorine. “What the fu-”
There was a thud from somewhere.
—
“Rebecca Cotswolds.”
“Christophe DeLorne,” he said, eyeing his managers carefully.
“Clyde Donovan,” the brunette muttered, not looking up from his hands.
“Brimmy Fallon.”
“Pete Thelman.”
There was a moment of silence.
That dragged.
And dragged.
And dragged.
“Stan,” Ike tried.
Stan was just sitting on Dovakien’s desk, staring.
“Stanny,” Kenny whispered with concern.
“Stanley,” Kyle demanded.
Stan’s eyes focused back on Kyle. “Huh?” Kenny nudged him hard from his place next to him. “Fuck. Oh.” He laughed, the action brightening up the sickly paleness seemingly that came from nowhere. “Sorry. Um. Stan Marsh. I’m here.”
Kenny put an arm around Stan’s waist, clearing his throat “Kenny McCormick.”
Dovakien Soma gives Wendy a nod of acknowledgement, continuing with their eternal vow of silence.
“Bebe Stevens,” she got out tightly, leaning into her girlfriend.
“Kevin Stoley.”
“Marjorine Stotch,” the blonde chimed, brightening up as her curly haired manager gawked at her.
“Wendy Testaburger.”
“Damien Thorne,”
“Craig Tucker.”
“Tweek Tweak.”
“TAMMY WAR-whaaat the fuuuuck.”
“Hi, Tam,” Wendy greeted quietly.
“Right. That’s done. Um.” Kyle swallowed hard. “Stanley. Ike. I need to see you both in my office. Now, please.”
Stan nodded, detaching himself from Kenny and hopping off Dovakien’s desk. The two followed Kyle into his office without another word.
The room was quiet for a moment.
“What do you guys think they did?” Clyde blurted.
Some of the tension in the room dissipated at that.
—
Stan and Ike had been in Kyle’s office for nearly an hour. Tweek eyed the silver picture frame on his desk before getting up with a quiet sigh. He walked past the empty front office and straight towards Craig’s door. He knocked twice before opening the door. “Babe, you alright?” he asked quietly.
Craig didn’t pick his head up. “Bad day,” he said tightly.
Tweek’s hands shook slightly as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.
—
Quand je t'ai demandé quelle était ta plus grande peur, j'ai prié pour que ce ne soit pas la mort, afin d'avoir une vraie réponse pour toi. Quelque chose qui aiderait. Le fait était que votre plus grande peur ne pouvait pas être quelque chose qui pourrait arriver là-bas. Cela a toujours été quelque chose qui m’a protégé.
Mais pour la première fois, la perte ne semble plus être un symptôme de la vie et j'ai vraiment peur de te perdre. Je suis dans un monde que je ne comprends pas et je ne suis plus en sécurité, Jonqui
“Holy shit, you are on a grind today,” Kenny greeted from behind Cristophe.
Christophe let out an exhale as he closed his browser before spinning around. “What’s up?”
“Nothing. Just killing time.”
“It’s weird now that he’s here,” he muttered.
“He took two days off,” Kenny said sharply. “Not that weird.”
“Right.” He leaned back in his chair. “What are we doing today?”
“Coming to the front. Wendy’s calling a meeting,” Clyde said tiredly from the doorway.
Kenny was next to him in a flash, throwing his arm around Clyde’s shoulder as they left the room. Christophe sighed, flipped off his monitor and got up.
—
“So what is it that we’re doing?” Pete deadpanned.
“Office olympics!” Wendy chimed.
“Yaaaaay,” they all drawled with absolutely no enthusiasm.
“We can do paperwork all day or you chucklefucks can start moving stuff,” she threatened.
“On it!” Tammy shouted, jumping into the fray that was clearing a path.
—
The front room was nearly cleared out. There was a row of six office chairs. Tammy, Damien, Christophe, Kenny, Ike, and Clyde were all racing across the room like maniacs. Kenny flung a pen in front of Ike’s chair, sending him onto the ground.
“DUDE!” Ike yelled.
“AND JUST LIKE THAT, IKE’S OUT!” Marjorine announced.
Clyde smacked an arm against the farthest wall, winning the office chair race. Damien and Kenny were close behind him but Tammy pulled forward taking second place. Kenny and Christophe wound up tying for third with Damien just behind them.
“I’m up!” Stan called out.
Kyle rolled his eyes. “Please.”
“What? Think you’re faster?” Stan asked playfully.
“Obviously.”
“Okay, tag me and Ky in.”
“Alrightttt, Stan, Kyle,” she paused, eyes lingering on him. He shot her something that almost resembled a glare. “Who else?”
Pete grabbed Brimmy’s hand, pulling him towards the unoccupied chairs. “C’mon, handsome.”
“I thought you weren’t talking to me,” Brimmy muttered.
“Well if you stopped moping so much I’d be able to stick to that.”
Dovakien walks towards the chairs, taking a seat on the one on the end.
Rebecca shrugged before walking over and taking the last seat.
“Alright… Ready?”
“ON WITH IT!” Clyde jeered, earning a lazy smack to the side of the head. “Ow!” Marjorine let out a quiet laugh.
“GO!”
The group scrambled to get across the room. Stan and Kyle were neck and neck. Rebecca was quick to steal the lead. She didn’t bother to brace herself, just smacking into the wall before any of them could even grasp what just happened. She threw her arms up with a quiet cheer. Christophe ran towards her.
Stan was about to touch the wall when Kyle grabbed the back of his shirt, slapping a hand against the wall. “NO FAIR!”
Brimmy and Pete caught up, ignoring Stan and Kyle’s bickering, which really consisted of Stan bickering and Kyle just playfully brushing him off.
“When the hell did Dovakien get there?” Kenny cut in.
“After Rebecca. Before Brimmy. No idea,” Ike responded.
“And the announcer becomes part of the race,” Marjorine announced with a smile. “Who’s taking over?”
“MEMEMEMEME,” Clyde shouted like he wasn’t within smacking distance. “Please Marjie, I’ll do so good.”
She rolled her eyes, playfully tagging his arm. “You’re in.”
The last of the group took their places. The line up consisted of Bebe, Kevin, Marjorine, Wendy, Tweek, and Craig. Tweek fidgeted with his hands slightly as he waited for Clyde to tell them to go.
“GO!”
Marjorine slammed an unscuffed Mary Jane into the wall, sending her outwards, but it did little against Tweek and Kevin’s surprising speed. Wendy zoomed past the two of them, but Tweek was relentless. It was shocking to see, coming from someone who was generally perceived as kinda frail. Craig gave up halfway through. “You got this babe!”
Tweek laughed, pushing through and smacking against the wall. Marjorine and Kevin hit the wall at similar times with Wendy just behind them. Bebe came up next. And Craig just stayed in the middle of the room.
“I quit.”
“Alright, fuck it,” Marjorine said with a laugh. “Tweek, Rebecca, and Clyde, get up there!”
Craig and company abandoned their chairs and Clyde and Rebecca took their rightful places.
Marjorine sent them off and Kyle leaned closer to talk to Brimmy. “So I have a question,” he muttered.
Brimmy and Pete exchanged a look. “What’s up?”
“What do you guys think my job is??”
“We seriously don’t know what your job is,” Pete deadpanned.
“Would you like to tell us?” Brimmy added.
“No.”
“Great,” Pete said flatly.
“Great talk,” Kyle breathed out, floating back towards Stan.
“NO!” Clyde yelled dramatically.
Kyle looked up just in time to see Tweek smack the wall, claiming his victory. He put a hand on Stan’s shoulder, causing the taller to flinch. “‘S alright. Just me.”
Stan spared a glance, offering him a weak smile. “Course.”
Kyle smiled back. “I wanna ask you about something later.”
His cheeks tinted slightly. “Okay, yeah.”
Clyde was eyeing them from across the room, trying to suppress his giggles. He nudged Kenny. “Appears Kyle and Stan are finally about to fight for Tweek and Craig’s titles,” he whispered.
Kenny slapped a hand over his mouth, trying to keep in the laugh that escaped him. “Shut up. Come help me set up the desks for our next game before Wendy yells at us.”
—
“I thought we were stapler sprinting!” Kenny complained.
“I changed my mind,” Wendy responded.
“So then what did me and Clyde set the desks up for?!”
Wendy sputtered a laugh. “We’re still doing stapler sprint. Maybe. I thought of something more fun.”
Clyde nudged Kenny. “Don’t be lame.”
Kenny gasped, feigning offense. “Don’t be mean to me!”
“You’re cute, princess,” Clyde teased.
“You’re kidding,” Wendy said with a snicker. “Like–?”
“No idea what either of you are talking about,” Kenny said sharply.
“Okay, okay,” Clyde relented, walking towards the door of the IT office. “What do you have planned for us?”
“Oh, we’re doing rubber band archery.”
“You’re shitting me.”
“No!! Christophe suggested.”
“Wait, that actually sounds fun.”
“Yeah, there’s eighteen of us, so even teams.”
“Wait, Trent’s seriously not playing?”
“Actually, Craig bowed out. He’s having… bad day. Y’know.”
“He okay?” Clyde asked. The two exchanged a look. “Alright. I’m gonna go check on him before we start.” Clyde slipped past her.
Kenny cleared his throat before throwing his arms above his head, trying for a lazy stretch. “Alright, miss. Lead the way.”
—
“Where’s Clyde?”
“I’m here!” Clyde called, running into the breakroom. His eyes widened as he looked at the makeshift archery range. At the far end of the room was their usual table with stacks upon stacks of plastic cups. Rebecca had broken out the whiteboard to keep score.
Clyde joined his team that also consisted of Tweek, Marjorine, Tammy, Rebecca, and Ike. The second team was Wendy, Stan, Kyle, Kevin, Christophe, and Trent. The third team was Brimmy, Damien, Pete, Bebe, Kenny, and Dovakien.
“Alright, losers. Three shots each. One point for knocking a cup down. Three points if you hit the bullseye on Tweek’s mug,” Wendy announced.
Bebe was the first to step up, holding a thick rubber band with absolutely no precision. She stretched it back, exaggerating the movement. When she let go, it landed limply, halfway to the target.
The group continued at this, going in between the teams. Kyle was fluttering about the group, landing next to Tweek. “Question for ya,” he whispered.
Tweek narrowed his eyes at him. “What’s up?”
“What do you think my job is??”
Tweek sputtered a laugh, breaking out into a smile. “Good fuckin’ question.” He and Kyle exchanged a look before his eyes widened. He shot Kyle a glare. “I-I don’t know,” he muttered.
“Right.” Kyle leaned closer. “Sorry.”
“You-’re fine.”
Kyle stepped up, knocking down cups with all three shots. Stan followed, shooting Kyle a playful smirk. “This is for you.” He then proceeded to miss every single shot.
“You did good,” Damien muttered to Brimmy as they proceeded to watch the idiot olympics unfold.
“You too,” Brimmy responded, not looking at him.
Damien took a tiny step closer. “I wanna talk to you about something.”
“Mhm.”
Damien looked up at him. Brimmy was seemingly laser focused on Christophe fumbling with his rubber bands. Damien rolled his eyes, floating towards Wendy.
“You’re actually a dick,” Pete muttered from Brimmy's left.
Marjorine stepped up to plate, channeling all her focus as she closed her left eye. Tweek narrowed his eyes at her. But with the snap of her rubber band, it smacked straight into the bullseye no larger than a quarter on Tweek’s mug.
Her team cheered for her, save for Tweek who seemed to be on the verge of some sort of meltdown.
Wendy put an arm around Damien’s shoulder, leaning on him slightly. “And just like that, team one wins with twelve, team three in second with eight, and team two in third with seven.” She tossed a rubber band ball in Marjorine’s direction.
The blonde caught it with her right hand, shooting her a smile. “Thank ya.”
—
The idiot brigade was still going when Brimmy entered the IT office without knocking. Christophe looked up, closing out his browser. “What?”
“Cigarette me,” Brimmy pleaded.
“Me too,” Pete said, trailing in behind him.
Christophe narrowed his eyes at the two. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. Brim’s incapable of dealing with his emotions.”
Christophe pulled a pack out of his top drawer, waving them over. A moment Brimmy let out an exhale full of smoke and relief. “Fucking hell,” he muttered, leaning on Christophe’s desk.
“You know, there’s this wonderful thing called communication,” Pete drawled. He paused to light his cigarette, ignoring Brimmy’s glare. “When you do it, it makes your life so much easier.”
“You have trouble communicating?” Christophe asked, leaning back, dropping his feet on his desk.
“No.”
“Yes he does.”
Christophe let out a contemplative hum. “Have you tried writing?”
“Writing…”
He put his hands up in mock surrender. “It helps. Swear.”
Kenny barged into the office, throwing the trio off kilter. “Guys! Last game is happening. We need everyone!”
Christophe shot the two a look. “To be continued, then.”
—
“And just like that, Marjie wins this years olympics!” Clyde announced.
The group cheered for the blonde who just laughed quietly to herself. “Thank y’all.”
“What does she win??” Bebe asked Wendy.
“What do you want?” Wendy asked.
Marjorine looks for just a moment.
She looked back at Wendy, lips curling up slightly. “I want a favor.”
“A favor?”
The blonde tilted her head a bit. “A one time favor, to be determined, at my discretion.”
Wendy’s brows furrowed slightly. She took a moment. “Oh. Okay.”
Clyde swatted at her arm. “MARJIEEEE YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO REQUEST A PIZZA PARTY.”
She laughed, rolling her eyes. “And I want a pizza party.”
“I literally already ordered pizza,” Kyle chimed in.
“Wait, seriously?” Tweek responded.
“Yup.”
“Kay. I’m gonna go get him.” Tweek was out of the breakroom in a flash, presumably going to get Craig who had been absent for most of the day.
“Does that mean we’re done working for today?” Pete asked.
“If you have shit to get done you have to do your shit.”
There was a collective groan.
“But we’re working with pizza,” Wendy tried with a smile.
“I mean, I’ll take it. We didn’t do shit for most of the day,” Kevin sighed out with a small smile. “I’m goin’ back to my desk.”
“Alright, losers. Get back to work,” Kyle ordered.
“What about the winner?” Marjorine asked playfully.
“Actually–” Kyle started.
—
“You get back to work too.”
Her nose scrunched slightly. The two exchanged a look. “Later then,” she murmured.
He nodded. “I have my own stuff to do. Please do not burn the office down while I leave you to your devices. And please get your work done.”
“We will!”
He smiled at the group, nodding slightly before walking off. Kenny sputtered a laugh. “We are not fuckin’ workin’ today.”
Wendy swatted at him. “Behave.”
“YESSSSMA’AMMMMM,” the group drawled dramatically, clearly already over their work day. But with their office olympics completed and only a few hours left of work, it was clear they would all survive the office another day.