New Policy!
“Why do we do this again?” Craig complained.
“Because it’s a fun way to make sure we’re all here!” Wendy chirped, clasping her hands together with a bright smile.
There was a collective groan despite the fact that they all secretly adored her.
“Henrietta Biggle,” Henrietta started with a roll of her eyes.
Tolkien laughed quietly next to her, politely trying to cover it up with a hand. “Tolkien Black.”
“Trent Boyett.”
Clyde shuddered as he took a tiny step away from the threatening presence and towards Kenny.
“Eric Cartman,” Cartman huffed, also finding the roll call pointless.
“Rebecca Cotswolds,” the anxious girl announced quietly.
“Christophe DeLorne,” the Frenchman said from his seat on Tweek’s desk, lit cigarette hanging out of his mouth.
“Clyde Donvan!”
“Brimmy.”
Wendy’s eyes twinkled with mischief, waiting for her early morning opportunity to annoy her dear friend. “Do you have a last name?”
Brimmy rolled his eyes, ignoring the few snickers it always garnered. “Fallon.”
“Thank you.”
“Michael Hayes.”
“Stan Marsh!”
“Oh my god, tone down the excitement Marsh. We’re at work not a Chuck E. Cheese,” Cartman jeered, earning a lazy smack to the side of his head from Craig.
“What, so Clyde gets to be excited about work but I don’t get to be?” Stan rebutted.
“Yes! Because Clyde gets a prissy pants–” He was cut off by another slap to the side of his head. This time it was Wendy, the smack coming with a death glare. “Oh my god, fine!”
“Red McArthur!” Red chimed, obviously playing up her excitement just to aggravate her boss.
“Kenneth–”
“Ew, don’t say it like that,” Bebe teased.
Kenny barked out a laugh. “Kenny McCormick.”
“Nelly Morgan,” Nelly got out through a yawn.
“Monica Ryland!”
Dovakien Soma gives Wendy a nod of acknowledgement, continuing with their eternal vow of silence.
“Kevin Stoley,” Kevin muttered, eyes focused on his hands
“Marjorine Stotch!”
Wendy gave Damien a nod. He shot her a halfhearted glare. “I thought you were between Stotch and Thorne, miss,” he teased.
She laughed in response. “Wendy Testaburger.”
“Damien Thorne.”
“Craig Tucker,” he added in lazily leaning against the wall he was standing in front of. Tweek shot him a look, trying to conceal his laugh.
“Heidi Turner!”
“Tweek Tweak.”
“GOOODMORRNINGGG FUCKERS, TAMMY WARNER REPORTING FOR DUTY!” she all but screamed as the front door slammed open.
Cartman slowly traversed the now silent room, locking gazes with the amber eyed demon from the South. She shot him a toothy grin, knowing what was coming, but finding the entire thing hilarious. She stood there, waiting. He stopped right in front of her and slowly rolled up the small stack of papers in his hand. He looked down at his makeshift paper bat before looking back up at their dear secretary.
“Really drawing it out today, huh?” she asked.
He looked back down at the paper bat before looking back at her.
“C’mon, I don’t have all da–” THWACK.
The entire office devolved into sleepy giggles, enjoying the nice delay before they all started work.
“Come on,” Wendy scolded, knowing Nelly was glaring holes into the side of Cartman’s head without even looking to check.
He raised his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m behaving, God.” He exchanged a look with Tammy, laughing to himself quietly. “Alright, assholes. Get to work.”
—
Tweek was sitting on his desk as everyone filed out of their offices and cubicles. Wendy stood in front of him with a small frown. His eyes trailed over to Cartman who was as nonchalant as ever. Craig was visibly fuming. The two made eye contact. What’s wrong? Tweek mouthed.
Craig rolled his eyes. You’ll see.
Tweek’s nose scrunched. Christophe slinked in behind Kenny, the two scurrying over to fight over the second spot on top of Tweek’s desk. He laughed quietly when Christophe pushed Kenny out of the way, hopping up and taking the seat next to Tweek. He leaned in slightly to whisper. “Been a while, mon ami.”
“Only been what? Two hours?” he responded with a chuckle.
“Okay, shitheads, I was in the middle of something so this better be important,” Tammy said, coming in from the breakroom. Damien followed her in, permanent scowl etched into his face. He didn’t say a word, he just floated over, taking a seat on Dovakien’s desk, the cubicle directly across from Tweek’s.
Wendy quickly glanced over the group, silently taking a head count instead of subjecting them to a second roll call. Wendy stood in the middle of their managers in front of them, a bit away from the door to Craig’s office. “Unfortunately, chain of command has sent down a new workplace policy,” she said with a tinge of sadness.
There was a collective groan. “What if we just pretend you didn’t get the message?” Red tried, no doubt knowing what was going on already.
Wendy shot her a half hearted glare as if to say ‘You know why I can’t do that.’ “Because of what the policy is, I don’t really have a way of doing that.”
“Oh my god, please just tell us already,” Henrietta huffed, crossing her arms.
“So… Corporate has decided, I don’t know why–”
“Because they’re assholes and they hate us,” Craig deadpanned.
Wendy tried to suppress a laugh and failed. “Moving on. They have banned email communications. All correspondence around the office must be had via phone or in person. Or on letters if you really want to be stubborn. That goes for communications between us and corporate as well.”
“This sounds like a way of them telling us we’re on our own while also telling us to go fuck ourselves,” Michael noted.
“That’s exactly what it is!” Red chimed in. “Which is ridiculous!”
Wendy threw her hands up in surrender. “Believe me, I agree! You have no idea how inefficient this is going to be. But they monitor our company emails so all we can do is just try and go with it. They’re sending out write ups for people sending out emails using their work emails.”
“Are you actually kidding me? I was mid back and forth with a client on email!” Monica complained.
“I’m not following it,” Nelly said flatly. The tiny bits of chatter stopped to look at her. She tucked two dark strands of hair behind her ears, pushing her pigtails off her shoulders and towards her back with the motion. “The thought of having to hunt you chucklefucks down every time I need something is unbearable. I’ll take the write ups.”
Craig put a hand over his mouth, trying to cover up his laughs. “I personally won't be writing you up, I can’t speak for them though. Do as you please, miss.”
“Great.” Nelly spun back around and walked right back into her office, the door closing loudly behind her.
“Now that grumpy’s gone,” Tammy said playfully.
“I don’t want to do this either!” Red complained, gesturing at Craig. “He’s just gonna make me hunt you assholes down and talk to you instead of doing it himself because he’s socially constipated!”
“Then take the write ups?” Bebe offered.
“Not allowed,” Craig muttered.
She brought her arm in towards herself before flailing it back out in Craig’s direction. “See?!” She looked directly at him. “You just don’t want me to because if I get fired then you need a new secretary! And you won’t be able to get one! Because you suck at talking to people!”
Craig rolled his eyes. “I do not suck at talking to people.”
“Your boyfriend doesn’t count,” Clyde noted.
Quiet giggles erupted throughout the room.
“Hey, Craig talks to me, asshole,” Cartman jeered.
“Somehow,” Stan shot in.
“Can we get back to the point?” Wendy asked.
“No.”
She looked around for a moment, trying to figure out who that was from before deciding it ultimately didn’t matter.
Rebecca continued to quietly fidget with her hands, eyeing Dovakien out of the corner of her eye. They were just watching the scene unfold. “How do you feel about this?” she whispered.
They look at her, tilting their head slightly before offering her a small smile and going back to watching the chaos.
—
The marketing office was nearly dead silent as Wendy walked in, checking up on the group for the first time since the announcement was made. Marjorine was laying across Bebe’s desk, presumably doom scrolling, legwarmers slightly askew from lazily kicking her feet off the side. Bebe was sitting at her desk, casually scrolling on her phone as if there wasn’t someone strewn across it. Clyde was half on top of his desk, in a deep squat on his chair, looking like he was in the most uncomfortable position known to man as he worked on drawing something.
Wendy tried not to laugh at the trio as she walked in. “How goes it?”
Marjorine sat up but Wendy’s attention was immediately stolen by Clyde’s “Wha-” The small sound was followed by the wheels of his chair rolling backwards. Clyde thankfully caught himself before he was fully ejected from his chair and onto the ground. “Hey!” he said brightly, ignoring the fact that he did slam his head on his desk despite catching himself.
Wendy covered her mouth and took a quiet deep breath before addressing them again. “I wanted to check in and see how it’s going with your new lack of emails!”
Marjorine crossed her hands. “This isn’t directed at you,” she said calmly, giving Wendy a reassuring look.
“Of course,” Wendy reaffirmed.
“Banning emails from an office doesn’t make any fucking sense! We are marketing! How are we supposed to market without emails! What, do they expect me to go throw on a hotdog costume and stand on the street corner?!”
“We have nothing to do with hotdogs, babe,” Bebe said, not looking up from her phone.
“What do we even–” Clyde started. “Y’know what. Nevermind.” He sniffled. “Wendy! This is so annoying! Craig keeps sending me away and I can’t email him to tell him things!”
“Okay…” Wendy said, trying to keep her composure as she suppressed a laugh. She found this group particularly funny, but she knew their concerns were extremely valid. “Between you guys and IT, I think you’re our best bets. Instead of working on marketing today, maybe you three can brainstorm an alternative solution?”
“I’m allowed to do that?” Bebe asked, eyes trailing up.
Wendy shot her a small smirk. “Go crazy, Miss Stevens.”
Bebe pulled her long coils up into a ponytail as she sent Wendy a cocky smile. “Wonderful.”
—
Tweek sat on top of Craig’s desk, smack in the middle, cheek resting on his hand as he watched his boyfriend type away at his computer that remained on the right side just so they could sit like this. His left eye closed involuntarily, nose scrunching slightly. “So what’re you doing since you can’t send emails now?”
Craig’s eyes trailed over. He smiled slightly when he met his boyfriend’s gaze. “Brainstorming ways to get around this,” he said with his usual flatness. “Clyde has tried to come visit me six times today since he’s not allowed to email me.”
Tweek snickered quietly. “It’s only three.”
Craig rolled his eyes. “Two more hours.”
Tweek leaned forward slightly. “What if we go home early today?” he tried.
Craig’s face softened ever so slightly. “Hon.”
Tweek leaned forward a bit more. “C’monn.”
Craig leaned in a bit. “Y’know Nelly’s actually gonna drag us both outta here one of these days, right?” he asked quietly.
Tweek bit at the corner of his lip. “I mean–”
“Craig, Clyde’s here again,” Red announced, swinging the door open without a second thought. She barked out a laugh. “Yeesh. Can’t separate you two for eight hours, huh?”
Craig leaned back into his chair with a quiet sigh, flipping her off.
“What am I doing with Clyde?”
“I don’t know?” he huffed out. “Firing him?”
Red gave him an unimpressed look.
Tweek dropped his head into his hands to conceal his giggles over the two.
“Fucking–” Craig dragged his hands across his face. “Ugh. Fine. Send him in.”
“Okay!”
Tweek looked up, eyes landing on the spunky brunette. “Hi guys!” he chirped.
“Yes, Clyde?” Craig responded.
“Hi!” Tweek chimed in.
Clyde bounded over, pulling himself up on Craig’s desk, somehow managing to fit next to Tweek without disrupting anything else on his desk. Craig let out a dramatic groan as he noticed tears in Clyde’s eyes.
Tweek put an arm around Clyde. “It’s okay, bud,” he said warmly.
“Don’t encourage him,” Craig complained.
Clyde let out a sob. “I miss you guys!”
Tweek pulled him into a hug, trying not to laugh at the boy. “We missed you too, Clyde.”
“This place is so boring without you!”
“What about Kenny?” Craig interjected with his usual monotone.
Clyde stiffened slightly in Tweek’s arms. “What about Kenny?”
“He never has a problem entertaining your antics.”
Clyde’s face tinted rose. “He’s busy, I’ll have you know!”
“Is he busy, or are you just scared you’re going to bother him?” Craig pressed.
“Don’t do that!”
“Do what?”
“That! You’re matchmaking! I see you!” Clyde argued.
Craig laughed, putting his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m not doing a damn thing. I’m just saying that out of all days, you two were both assigned to think up solutions and this would probably be the least likely day you’d bother him.
Clyde narrowed his eyes at Craig, slowly detangling himself from Tweek. “I see you, Tucker.” Craig didn’t say anything, opting to watch in amusement as Clyde slowly climbed off his desk, not taking his eyes off him as he backed away and out the door.
Clyde shut the door behind him and circumvented the cubicles, walking into the hallway and practically storming towards the IT office. He stepped in, reveling in the ten degree drop and the fact that the IT office felt like it was part of an entirely different universe. The walls were all cool toned dark metal as opposed to the regular beige of the rest of the office. The lighting was soft and somehow never too much. Christophe’s and Kenny’s desks were wherever they decided to move them based on the week. This week, they were both in the middle of the room, not touching any walls, facing the door. Clyde figured he’d ask about it later.
The two looked up from their work. “What’s up, pleureuse?” Christophe greeted casually. Clyde would put up a fight if the nickname was given to him by anyone else. But whenever Christophe said it, something about it was endearing.
“Hi, Clyde,” Kenny said fondly.
“Hi.”
Christophe let out an annoyed grunt and took a long drag of his cigarette. “Going to bother Craig.”
Clyde laughed quietly as he stepped further inside. The two passed each other as Clyde nervously approached Kenny’s desk. “How’s your day going?”
Kenny shot him a toothy grin. “I could ask you the same, handsome.”
Clyde playfully rolled his eyes. “This email thing is fuckin’ killing me.”
“What if we team up? I have an idea, I just don’t know if it’s too simple.”
“Too simple?”
Kenny put a hand on his monitor, moving it to his left and tilting it slightly outwards. Clyde wanted a monitor like his. It seemed convenient to have the thing attached to an adjustable arm so he could just move it wherever. Kenny patted the desk in front of him. “C’mere cutie.”
Clyde raised a brow. “You sure?”
Kenny responded with a playful eye roll. “Get up here. I have options.”
—
“Since when the fuck is Kenny allowed to call meetings?” Cartman complained.
“Since we’re not allowed to email each other,” Craig shot back.
“But! You-” Cartman sputtered a laugh. “You would really rather redistribute your job than talk to them?”
Craig rolled his eyes, flipping him off.
“Everyone be respectful,” Nelly scolded as she walked in, already over it.
“Nelly, you are thee most disrespectful person in this office,” Kevin teased.
She rolled her eyes. “No. Trent is.”
“The fuck did I do?” Trent huffed as he walked in.
“They just can’t handle your cute little grumpy self,” Tammy cooed. Trent shot her a threatening glare that she took without a second thought.
“Christophe is by far the most disrespectful in this office,” Trent noted before walking back out.
“Ah, yes. Coming from the janitor that tells us to clean up our own sheet,” Christophe said around his cigarette.
“Can I say our thing?” Kenny asked patiently.
“Yes, Kenny, go ahead,” Wendy said warmly.
Kenny grabbed Clyde by the hand and pulled him up to the front of the group. “Okay. So there were a lot of ways to get around this but they all involved me doing a shitton more work than I wanted to do. So I made us all set gmails that are not attached to the company. So now we just have unofficial work emails.”
“That’s your solution?” Stan asked with a laugh.
“Nah, I’ll take it,” Craig said flatly.
Little bits of chatter started to erupt amongst the group.
“I could make this into a whole thing but it will take me like a week or two. Your call,” Kenny said evenly.
“Nope! We’re good. Please, just say we’re good,” Red pleaded.
A small round of agreement rippled throughout the room. It was interrupted by a quiet tone of eight chimes.
Cartman shot the group a wicked smile. “That’s our day. Screw you guys, I’m goin’ home.”
The group was quick to clean up and pile out, ready to go home for the day.