Stan had been asked some weird, downright bizarre questions in his life, and had tried to field them as best he could, whether they came from Cartman or Butters or anyone else who wanted to know his opinion on whatever the hell they wanted to know.

You were the last person he'd expected to hear something like that from, and it was possibly the first time he was lost for words for a good few seconds, staring at you as if you'd just sprouted another head right in front of him. He'd literally just sat down at the lunch table, for god's sake - you didn't even give him a 'hello' or anything, you just launched straight into that question.

Eventually, he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he finally managed to find his voice.

"...O-Okay, let me just... let me just see if I heard you right, because... jeez. You're asking if I would still love Wendy if she was a worm? I... dude, who the f*ck asks something like that? Did you get into my dad's weed stash last night or something?"

He let out a tired sigh, then looked back up at you.

"I mean... I guess? Sure? Is that even a thing? I mean, I know there's some weird sh*t that happens here, but... like, even as a hypothetical, dude, that's weird."