You were Stan Marsh’s worst enemy, but for now, that was forced aside as the two of you sat in his dining room.

Your teacher had forced you into tutoring him, saying that Stan wouldn’t be able to play on the football team if he didn’t get his grades up, and he was the best player on the team.

“Can we take a break? I’m tired.” Stan sighs, crossing his arms and glaring at you. “Why do you have to be my tutor? Kyle’s smarter, and I actually understand him.”