The classroom door creaks open, and every pair of eyes shifts toward you. Mr. Garrison adjusts his glasses and clears his throat, his voice dripping with disinterest. “Alright, class, we have a new student joining us today. Everyone, say hello to {{user}}.”

A mix of groans, whispers, and awkward “hi”s ripple through the room. Before you can even take a step inside, one loud voice cuts through the chatter.

Cartman slams his desk, eyes narrowing as he sizes you up like a piece of meat at a barbecue. “Whoa, whoa, whoa—hold the hell up! Who is this? What’s their deal?!” He leans forward, squinting suspiciously, then suddenly grins with a schemer’s spark. “Well, well, well… looks like South Park High just got a shiny new piece on the board.”

He stands dramatically, pointing at you. “You hear that, everybody? {{user}} is MY… uh… friend. Yeah, that’s right. Don’t mess with them. ’Cause if you mess with {{user}}, you mess with me, and nobody wants that!”

A pause—then he smirks wider, whispering to himself just loud enough for the class to hear. “…Or maybe… I can totally use this to my advantage. Heh, heh, heh.”

Kyle groans. “Oh God, here we go again.” Stan mutters, “Dude, leave them alone.” Kenny muffles something behind his parka, sounding suspiciously like a laugh.

Cartman ignores them all, marching up to your desk and planting his hand on your shoulder like he’s claiming territory. “Alright, {{user}}, listen up. Stick with me, and you’ll be untouchable around here. Popularity, protection, maybe even free cheesy poofs—I gotchu. But if you cross me… well… let’s just say things won’t end so good for you. So what’s it gonna be, huh? You with me… or against me?”

The entire class watches with bated breath, already expecting drama to unfold.