fandomhigh | Fandom High Welcome Picnic, Front Lawn of the School, All Day: Part II

Entry tags:

!event: welcome picnic

Fandom High Welcome Picnic, Front Lawn of the School, All Day: Part II

In order to give people a place to get away from the traffic jam of the buffet and information tables, most of the chairs and tables for guests were set up further out on the lawn, under a tall blue and gold tent. There was plenty of room for everyone to sit down and enjoy themselves, but it might not have all been dry. Did we mention being grateful that it was just water falling from the sky?

[OCD is up! This is the FIRST post for general mingling. Please use this post first, if your browser can handle the comment load. Roommates, fake siblings and teachers are all here and there's more room for mingling here. Since it's outside, the picnic is open to all students, teachers, and townies!]

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"Something like that," Jim agreed, picking a Twinkie off of his plate and offering it to Stan with a smirk. "I'm beginning to wonder if they're not one of Earth's great wonder-foods. I mean, they don't seem to ever go bad."

Where Jim came from might have had interstellar travel and holographic imaging technology, but their take on food preservation was still decidedly fifteenth century.

Hey, like Stan would turn down free food. "Maybe because they're filled with chemicals," he replied, shoving it into his mouth all at once before snickering.

Sigh, teenage boys.

Not to be outdone, Jim shoved a whole Twinkie into his own mouth, and then contemplated following it up with a second, just because. Instead, he chewed and swallowed and kind of gaped at Stan instead, trying to make sense of the words that just came out of his mouth, there.

"Chemicals?" News to Jim! "What... kind of chemicals?"

"How the hell would I know?" Stan replied, stealing another. Because there was a freaking pile there. "It's just... chemicals. And stuff."

"Well, I kind of figured out that there was stuff. I mean... there's the gold-ish part, and the cream-ish part. Stuff." That was the technical term, right there. "What are the chemicals for, then?"

"To keep it from going bad," Stan said around a mouthful of twinkie. So, the details might have been lost.

There was a brief silence while Jim tried to parse that.

"I... guess?" He squinted down at the pate of Twinkies, and then shrugged and started on another one. "We usually just dry things out when we don't want them to go bad. Or salt them. Or pickle them..."

So very fifteenth century, indeed.

"Pickled Twinkies probably wouldn't be so great, though."

"Deep fried ones aren't bad, though," Stan added once he got the image of a pickled twinkie out of his head.

"They fry them?" Jim was now wondering how in the world he'd never heard of a friend Twinkie before. Jim was possibly doomed, now. "Have you ever had one like that?"

Stan shot him a look. "They have them at all the fairs back home. Maybe we could find a deep fryer and make Butters make them."

Poor, poor Butters. Always scalded by hot oil.

"Hey, that would be great!" See, Jim was easy. "I haven't really been to any fairs, you know. Not in years, at least. Things back home were usually way too busy for that."

Busy playing busboy. Busy doing maintenance on his surfer. Busy being arrested...

"It's summer, they have to have them--somewhere." Stupid Atlantis. "Maybe we can find a way to get back to the normal places."

Like Baltimore.

"I think your normal places would probably still be kind of weird to me," Jim noted thoughtfully. "But I'd be willing to check out what you guys pass off as normal, sometime. Just so long as there aren't Pop Tarts involved, I mean."

"Everything is weird to you," Stan pointed out. "It'll be fun. Probably."

Considering the fact that it was still a battle just to get Jim to spit out a swear word, yeah, things were going to be weird to him for quite a while longer, most likely.

"Well, yeah. Even that stint back in Japan was still pretty fun, even if I spent a whole afternoon trying to scrub the makeup off my face."

"We usually don't repeat things, so make up shouldn't be an issue again." Unless you're the new Butters.

"I... think that's a relief." This was said with all the certainty of a guy standing on the end of a plank, about to be tossed in to wrestle with sharks. With his hands tied behind his back. Possibly after being rubbed down with raw meat. "It keeps things from getting... boring?"

That only happened once!

"It walking away doesn't help. Sometimes it just makes sure things happen."

Clyde.

"It's like there's no escape." Please, pardon Jim while he facepalms. "Things are just weird no matter what, huh?"

"You get used to is," Stan said earnestly. "I mean, I haven't snapped yet over it."

"I guess that's something." It had to be something. It just... did.

Jim was going to console himself with another Twinkie.

Mmm. Chemicals.

"With any luck, I won't crack before the end of summer, myself. I mean, not that there's really much reason for me to crack, anyhow. Pretty much the worst thing I have to face down on a regular basis is the sign over at the Fixer-Uppers."

That thing was dangerous.

"What about the sign?" Stan really needed to get out more.

"It's kind of... um..." And now Jim was looking for a nice way to describe it.

But there was no nice way to describe it.

"The first time I saw it, I crashed my surfer into an alleyway and pretty much plowed through a dumpster because of it."

"...dude, are you sure it's not someone trying to kill you?"

"... I really hope not, because the person who made the sign gave me a job that same day."

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