Okay, so this is something that I was working on for NaNoWriMo, but didn't finish. I didn't make NaNoWriMo, but I thought that I would put this up on my Da [X-insomnicidalTaru-X] and someone on there kindly suggested that I put it up here, so I did. This is not my first fanfiction, but I had a damned hard time figuring out how to upload anything on here before. XD I have more fics on my DA.

"You know, I honestly don't understand why you don't just fuck him and get it over with." Kenny stated flatly, not looking up from his porn mag. Cartman turned to look at him from his sideways sitting position, not surprised that his friend could tell he was staring at Kyle without actually looking at them, nor that he was reading a porn mag in the school library.

When Kenny made statements like those, Cartman wondered whether or not the blonde was really their friend, or if he just hung out with them because it was so habitual. Cartman gave him a bored look, then slid his eyes back over to the unknowing object of his [rather twisted] affections before answering.

"You know that's not my style, Kenny." Kenny turned the page.

"Oh yeah, I forget you get off on mindfuck." One side of Cartman's mouth quirked up into a slight grin. Kenny glanced up in time to see it, taking in the look, expression unchanging as he contemplated his two friends.

Cartman watched Kyle and Stan talk and laugh, a certain amount of jealousy creeping into his conscious, belied by his ever calm exterior. Not that he would ever -could ever- let Kyle know how he'd felt about him since the 7th grade. Cartman mentally snorted at the sappy dialogue playing in his own head. Having always prided himself on being an apathetic asshole, such thoughts simply weren't allowed. He turned at the agitated sigh from his companion.

"Dude, this is gay. I'm tired of watching you oggle your boy crush. I'm ditching, you in?" Kenny said, closing his magazine and jerking his thumb over his shoulder to the entrance of the library. Cartman nodded, gathering up his worn and torn bag, casually slinging it over his shoulder as he and Kenny left.

One of the few benefits of hanging out with Cartman was that, due to his size, crowds naturally parted for him. Even though he was only two inches taller than Kenny at 6' 5", he was a lot heavier. Where Kenny was lean, Cartman was large and bulky, though most of his fat had converted to muscle when he'd decided he liked football. When he was a kid, everyone had just thought that his twisted selfishness was just annoying, as they also knew he was a wuss and wouldn't physically do anything to them, but now that he was both large and strong, people tended to give him a wide girth, as he'd proven to still be twisted and unstable. The only people that seemed to be safe from his ire were the only people that had surprisingly stuck with him through childhood; Stan, Kyle and Kenny. And Craig, but that was only because he was so unaffected by everything, and was possibly the only person who could kick Cartman's ass, even though he was way scrawnier.

Kenny and Cartman made their way outside to Cartman's black F150 truck, which was their usual getaway car whenever they ditched. Cartman rummaged in his pockets for the keys, then unlocked the car. They both climbed in and Cartman started it, the Offspring immediately blasting from his stereo. Kenny delved into his pocket, extruding his pack of cigarettes and his lighter. He pulled two out, replacing the box, and lighting them up, one after the other. He stuck one in his mouth and offered Cartman the other, who took it without comment. They both puffed silently as the radio blared, Kenny looking expressionlessly out the window.

Ten minutes later, Cartman pulled into the McDonald's they always went to. He parked the truck, making sure to take up two spaces and he and Kenny got out, taking their last drags of their cigarettes, then they dropped them to the ground and stomped them out. They went in, ordered the same thing they always did and sat in the same spot they always sat.

Cartman looked up when Kenny sighed from across the table. "What?" He asked

"Man, this is getting repetitive. And sad." Kenny said, leaning back in the booth. Cartman considered him for a moment, then started on his second quarter-pounder without comment.

"Dude, I mean, what's the point of ditching if we do the same damn thing every time?" Kenny continued. Cartman shrugged, not really even listening, thinking to himself that Kenny was being a whiny bitch, and willing him to stop talking so he could eat in peace. Kenny looked up and took in Cartman's unconcerned expression and resumed eating the last of his fries. "Whatever, man." They continued to eat in silence, although Cartman started to mull over what Kenny had said.

Their ditch days had indeed become routine and boring. However, while he was sure that Kenny just wanted to find a new hang out spot, or something else to do to bide their time until school let out and they went home, Cartman wanted to find something else to do. It wasn't just the ditch days that were boring him, it was pretty much his life as a whole. All he did was get up, go to school, sometimes ditch, go home, plop himself either in front of his t.v or computer, eat dinner, then go to bed. He hadn't had a girl since he and that fat bitch Henrietta had broken up after a brief fling a year ago, and even masturbation had lost its fun. He needed something.

Kenny waved a hand impatiently in front of his face. "Dude, you listening? School's over, let's go." Cartman grunted in response, shoved the last of his burger in his mouth, then gathered up his tray, lazily dumping the contents in the garbage on the way out. Kenny followed suit as they headed back to his truck.

They drove back to the school, Cartman dropped Kenny off by his beat up and rusted blue '96 Ford Fusion that was about on its last leg, then started home. The route had become so habitual that he could divide half his attention to the road and still make it home. As he drove, he thought again about what Kenny had said, about the rut they had fallen into. He thought about what he could do that would make his life less boring. Cartman stopped at a red light and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. A bit of red ahead of him caught his attention, and he rolled his eyes over to it. It was a red Chrystler 300. Huh. Didn't Kyle drive one of those? In fact, the passenger door was wide open.

Weird, Jew boy wouldn't ever leave his car parked haphazardly like that, and he definitely wouldn't ever leave it unlocked. Unconcerned, Cartman waited until the light turned green, then he casually drove up to Kyle's car and parked behind it. He turned his car off, then reached behind him and grabbed a wrench that he had in his back seat for the odd occasion that he should need to fix something with the car. He sensed trouble and got out. He slammed the door, not caring who heard, and immediately was assailed with the sounds of a fight. There were at least three male voices, all yelling, two of them menacing, one of them angry.

Cartman recognized the angry voice as Kyle's. He nonchalantly walked to the narrow alleyway between Tom's Rhinoplasty and the [strategically placed?] butcher shop next to it, swinging the wrench on his finger. When he got to the alley's mouth, he saw a sight that interested him. A bloodied and injured Kyle was being held up by a tall man wearing a dark hoodie who's face was covered by the stereotypical black ski mask. A shorter man dressed similarly held a knife threateningly to the side of Kyle's neck. Cartman rolled his eyes and mentally scoffed. Amateurs.

Kyle looked angry, his jaw set and his face red as he looked his assailant in the face. However, his knees sagged, showing how weak he was. Cartman could also see a hint of fear in his eyes as the man continued to threaten him. Deciding that he didn't want to explain to that idiot Officer Barbrady why he had been at the scene of a murder, he loudly cleared his throat.

It was almost comical; all three simultaneously jerked their heads in his direction and froze. The two assailants looked slightly panicked, and Kyle's expression was a mix of disgust and shock, as if he was thinking why you? Cartman had to admit, he liked the way Kyle looked with his clothes torn and dirtied, his face bloody, swollen and dirty as well, a look of stubborn indignation on his face.

Cartman smiled. He'd found something.

"What the fuck are you smiling at, fatass?" The short, knife-wilding man snarled, whipping around to brandish his knife at Cartman. Cartman actually scoffed.

"Oh, just thinking that I'm really going to enjoy this." He said casually, swinging the wrench again. The man snarled, then rushed him, the knife held in front of him. Cartman easily side-stepped him, grabbed his wrist, then jabbed the man in the face with his elbow. The momentum with which the man had been going made him slam into it hard. The high pitched scream that was emitted told Cartman that he'd probably broken his nose. Smiling almost sadistically, Cartman pressed a pressure point in the man's wrist and his fingers went limp, dropping the knife. He then brought the wrench down on the back of the man's head with a satisfying crunch, effectively sending him to the ground where he lay unmoving.

"You fucking killed him!" The other man yelled, shoving Kyle to the side where he fell to the ground. He sat up, too weak to do anything but glare at the man and pant heavily.

"Nah, I just incapacitated him a bit." Cartman said in a cocky tone, his sadistic smile now full-fledged as he resumed twirling his now slightly bloodied wrench. Kyle shuddered. He'd never seen that look on Cartman's face before. He didn't like it. It was the kind of look that people who could kill without a second thought had.

The taller man ran at Cartman, his hands balled up into fists. Right when he reached him, Cartman reached out, catching the man in the stomach with the wrench. The man grunted, but seemed mildly unaffected. He grabbed Cartman's shoulders, pulling him down and ramming his head against Cartman's. Cartman reeled, feeling slightly dizzy. He could feel a trickle of blood start to travel down his face from his hair line. How the fuck? He thought, wondering how a head hitting a head could make a cut. He didn't have much time to think about it though, because the man chose that moment to rush him, grabbing him and tackling him to the ground a few feet away from his unconscious accomplice. He landed on top of Cartman and landed blow after blow to his face.

Refusing to be bested, Cartman quickly grabbed the man by the shirt, brought his legs up under his stomach and used them to flip the man over his head and onto the pavement, letting go of his shirt just before he hit the ground. He heard a dull thud before he quickly rolled over and got back to his feet, wiping the blood from his head and mouth, ignoring the throbbing pain in his face. He saw the blood pooling beneath the man's head and surmised that his head hitting the cement had been the thud he'd heard, and that the man had knocked himself out. Or possibly killed himself, either worked for him. He stood over the two men, calmly twirling his wrench.

Better make sure he can't get away. Cartman thought, one side of his mouth curling up into a twisted smile as he brought the wrench down hard on the larger man's kneecap. He straightened up, then brought it back down again, this time hearing a loud cracking sound. Good.

Cartman turned around to Kyle and saw that he was now laying on the ground, unconscious. Huh. Must've passed out." He thought mildly as he whipped out his cell phone. He dialed a number that he used only when he needed discretion.

"What?" A low, slightly nasally voice said.

"Craig, you home?" Cartman asked, walking over to Kyle's comatose body.

"Yeah, why?" Craig asked suspiciously.

"I need you to do something for me." Craig sighed.

"What?" He asked.

"I need you to pick up Clyde. Then I need you two to come to the alley between Big Meats and Tom's Rhinoplasty. Kyle's car is parked in front of Tom's. I need one of you to drive his car to my house. I'll leave his keys in the glove box. I also need you to report what you see in the alleyway to the police. Got that?" Cartman knew that the idiot cops in this town wouldn't even ask questions. They'd see that one of them had a knife and that there'd been a struggle and they would just throw their asses in jail. What a town they lived in.

There was a pause, then Craig let out a very put-upon sigh, as if he could be doing something better.

"Yeah, we'll be there in ten."

"Good." Cartman said, hanging up. It was a good thing both Craig and Clyde lived just down the street from Tom's. Cartman dialed another number in his phone. He waited while it rang. After a few rings, he heard a click.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Mrs. Broflovski." Cartman said in a sugary sweet voice.

"Oh, well hello there, Eric." Sheila replied pleasantly. Cartman mentally scoffed at the amount of trust she had in him, considering he'd been a complete dick to her son for most of his life. But then, she was pretty damned stupid.

"Mrs. Broflovski, I heard that you and Mr. Broflovski are going on vacation this weekend?" He asked, trying to sound interested.

"Oh, yes. Mr. Broflovski and I are going to spend the next two months in Paris for our second honeymoon. Oh, it's going to be wonderful!" She said dreamily. How convenient. Cartman thought, smiling.

"Wow, Mrs. Broflovski, that sounds great." Cartman said, feigning interest.

"I don't know what I'm going to do with the boys, though. I just don't like the idea of them being all alone in that house, and no one we know around here could take them." She said, sounding worried. Wow, you are making this way too easy.Thank you, overprotective mothers. Cartman thought.

"Well, actually, Mrs. Broflovski, that's what I was calling about. In light of your honeymoon, I was wondering if Kyle could come stay with me? You know, I could keep him from getting lonely." If Cartman's voice got any sweeter, he was going to give himself diabetes.

"Oh, well that's a wonderful idea, Eric! I'm sure Kyle would like that. He hasn't come home from school yet, but I'll tell him when he gets home. I suppose Ike can stay with his aunt in Denver since it's almost summer vacation."

"Actually, Mrs. Broflovski, Kyle's with me right now. I'm behind in some of my homework, and since it's Friday, we thought he could come over and help me with it. He says he meant to call and tell you, but he lost track of time." Cartman tried to sound apologetic, all the while wanting to gag on the bile that he couldn't believe was coming out of his mouth.

"That's just fine, dear. Well, since we leave tomorrow night anyway, why doesn't he just spend the night tonight as well? Would that be okay with your mother?" She asked. Like my mom gives a shit. She's probably not even gonna be there. Cartman thought, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, sure, Mrs. Broflovski. I'm sure Mom'll be fine with it." He said, pouring on the honey.

"Okay, dear. Thank you for letting Kyle stay at your house while we're gone. We really appreciate it, hon."

"No problem, Mrs. Broflovski." Cartman said, trying to hurry the conversation along.

"Okay, well tell him we'll call him tomorrow before we leave, and he can go back to the house to get his clothes and things anytime."

"Okay, will do."

"Thanks again, hon."

"Sure, Mrs. Broflovski."

"Bye now."

"Bye." They hung up and Cartman pocketed his phone. "Stupid bitch." He muttered as he stuck the wrench in his back pocket and hoisted Kyle to his feet. He slung Kyle's arm over his shoulder and grabbed him by the waist, dragging him to his car. He set Kyle down briefly in the seat, and rummaged around in his pockets for the car keys. He found them and threw them in the glove box, then gathered Kyle up again and dragged him to his truck.