A/N; Another K2 drabley-thing, from Kyle's POV again. This time talking to Eric, though, about Kenny. You remember the season three episode "the succubus"? Eric's having the piss taken outa him by his eye doctor, so at the end of the episode he takes Kenny's head in and requests an eye transplant. Yeah, this is totally based on that.
Oh yes, and this was started in the time when Kenny only had character depth in fanfics, meaning people know about the dying thing...
Disclaimer/warning; Not my characters. For 500 odd words, this thing has a decent allowing of swearwords. And a slight biblical reference which could possibly upset people.
D'you wanna know why I hate you so much, you fucking fatass? Why, no matter the amount of times I claim this hatred, I can't stop this 'sort of friend'ship?
It's your eyes. Your stupid, fantastic, blue-as-the-sky eyes.
But they aren't really your eyes, are they?
I can remember when they were brown. I bet you love having his eyes now, don't you? It must be lovely to have another trait of your beloved Nazis. But I imagine you haven't put much thought into them since the victory of not having to visit the eye doctor again wore off.
He was pretty pissed, you know, when he found out. I expect you didn't notice that, but it was fairly obvious. I can understand why, he must feel so violated whenever he sees you.
He probably feels more angry than I do.
But I bet he doesn't feel mesmerised, or that sharp stab of pain that I do. Did you really never notice how I'm more friendly towards you if he's dead? I hate it, but it's so worth it just to see him again for the briefest of seconds, no matter the evil look to give them, the way you squish his beautiful eyes within your fat face.
His real set would never look so manic, so dead, set to the one shade you limit each eye to. His eyes are so alive, they shine a new colour each time he dies, each time his mood changes. They make you feel like you're flying, swimming, living.
Yours are dead. Hating, lying, killing.
Greedy. So much greedier than he could ever be, no matter how poor he is, no matter the lack of food he has. Did you know I have to force him to take food I bring to school for him? He hates being a burden, but I've managed to convince him I feel worse about him not eating than having to make a couple of extra sandwiches. You wouldn't know what that's like, would you? Not having food, I mean. Seeing as your crack-whore of a mother seems to be trying to fatten you up. Maybe she's gonna sell you one day as meat, or use you to smuggle drugs. It's strange, you'd think that Kenny, the poor white trash, would have a more dodgy life than you, but you win hands down.
God, sometimes I wonder if you made a deal for Kenny's food allowance before you were born. It seems like the low sort of thing you'd do, and I bet you could pull it off. You probably threatened to turn Jesus' disciples into lamb stew, or something.
Well whatever. Unfortunately for me I wont see him for a while, seeing as your last plot to take out some government personal- or whatever the hell it was- left him falling of a roof. I hope you're at least happy with what you got. I hope you get what you deserve. You want a sandwich? You might as well; it'll serve more use fattening you up than it will to Kenny. After all, I can't bear to see his perfect eyes in need of food. Guess I'll see you tomorrow, fatass.
Sorry if I stare.