Kyle missed his best friend.

Ever since Stan started to develop this annoying cynicism, Kyle had gotten closer to Cartman since Stan wasn't there for them to fight over. But there was only so much of that fat bastard that the ginger could take.

There had to be a cure, right? There had to be something that could save Stan! There had to be something that could help Stan so he could have his best friend back.

So he left South Park, following the yellow brick road of rumors, and he would continue until he found success. It took days, but finally Kyle found his answer.

The way to cure cynicism is to get laid. But not just with anyone—it has to be with your best friend.

The answer was clear. He was Stan's best friend. Stan had told him so before he moved from South Park.

After riding several busses, Kyle finally made it to the address that Stan's dad, Randy, had posted on Facebook. Why he'd post such personal information on there, Kyle didn't know, but he was glad.

Kyle climbed up a tree and jumped onto the roof of the house and opened a window. He had to break in since nobody was home. It wasn't hard to figure out whose room belonged to Stan, though people who didn't know the Marsh family at this particular time would have been confused.

Randy's room was the one filled with various posters of the new 'hip' group that adults thought sounded like shit and instruments that he was trying to learn how to play. Stan's room was… plain, for a lack of a better word. White, brown, and black—neutral colors—were the only colors in the room. He had a bed with white sheets and a brown cover, a black television set in a corner and a brown dresser.

Kyle sat on his bed and looked at his watch. Stan should be out of school by now and on his way home. He waited a few more minutes before he heard the sound of a car pulling into a driveway. He stood up and looked out the window. It was them.

Kyle stared at the door nervously as he heard someone walking up the stairs. His heart beat rapidly. Today he was going to lose his anal virginity and he would be a man.

"Kyle," Stan's voice sounded incredulous as he laid his eyes on his best friend that had hurt him.

"Stan, I can save you," Kyle said, waving his arms dramatically. "And we can go back to South Park and be best friends again."

Stan turned around sadly and closed the door, "But Kyle, I tried… And I couldn't change. This is just how I am now."

"No, I found a way," Kyle said softly.

Stan turned around to face his friend, ready to object, but was shocked to see his friend turned around, bent over.

"I'll do it for you, buddy." Kyle said, pulling his pants down, showing twin round orbs.

Stan's jaw dropped. "What are you doing!"

"You have to have sex with your best friend, so take me!" Kyle commanded, wiggling his butt in an enticing way. After a few seconds, Kyle opened his eyes again to see Stan just staring at him with a thoughtful expression on his face.

Kyle had a very nice ass. It was like one of those asses that belonged to a Gerber baby that would later grow up to be an underwear model. His ass looked nicer than Wendy's.

Wendy…

He couldn't picture his former girlfriend… In place of her was just a long haired crap… wearing purple clothes? Yeah, that was disturbing… Ah, screw it, he was gay!

Stan pulled his pants down and walked behind his friend, about to press his little flaccid penis against the round butt—hey, he was a third grader, he didn't know how all that junk worked—but before he could, his mind imagined crap spurting from the beautiful butt and onto him.

"Ah!"