The Masochism Tango, a south park fanfic

OK, so the next chapter of The Miss Cowbell Pageant isn't really coming along, so I decided to do this oneshot. Normally I hate songfics, but I just thought that this song perfectly described Wendy and Cartman. Hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I own neither South Park or "The Masochism Tango".

The Masochism Tango

I ache for the touch of your lips, dear,

But much more for the touch of your whips, dear.

"I can't believe I agreed to this," said Cartman, as Wendy led him to the dance floor. "These lessons are so gay."

You can raise welts

Like nobody else,

As we dance to the Masochism Tango.

Wendy grabbed his shoulder in a vice-like grip, and put his hand on her waist.

"This is going to be fun, honey," she said, in a way that threatened bodily harm if it wasn't. The music began.

Let our love be a flame, not an ember,

Say it's me that you want to dismember.

Blacken my eye,

Set fire to my tie,

As we dance to the Masochism Tango.

Cartman made a half-hearted attempt at the steps. Wendy rolled her eyes. As she spun into him, she pulled on his tie until he gagged.

"At least pretend to try."

"Whatever, ho."

At your command

Before you here I stand,

My heart is in my hand...

Yeech!

It's here that I must be.

The things I do for her, Cartman thought.

My heart entreats,

Just hear those savage beats.

As Cartman danced closer to Wendy, she felt his heart beating. He's getting tired already! I told him to lose a few pounds.

And go put on your cleats

And come and trample me.

"I love tangos," Wendy said. Cartman nodded. "Ow!"

"Sorry."

"Watch where you put your feet!"

Your heart is hard as stone or mahogany,

That's why I'm in such exquisite agony.

My soul is on fire,

It's aflame with desire,

Which is why I perspire when we tango.

"You're sweating already?" Wendy asked.

"Well, it's not my fault!" Cartman replied. "I mean, you get to wear the short little dress and I have to wear a blazer."

"Well, it's not my fault there's a dress code. Don't pin this on me."

The music started to slow down.

You caught my nose

In your left castanet, love,

I can feel the pain yet, love,

Ev'ry time I hear drums.

They were face-to-face now, only about an inch apart. Slowly, Cartman dipped Wendy to the ground. Jesus Christ. For a skinny bitch, she's heavy. He let go.

"Asshole!" The music stopped with her yell. Cartman looked up to see the entire room staring at him.

"Is everything all right?" asked the hippy teacher.

"We're fine," said Wendy, through clenched teeth.

"Sorry," Cartman said, rolling his eyes. "Didn't mean it."

And I envy the rose

That you held in your teeth, love,

With the thorns underneath, love,

Sticking into your gums.

"Oh, I bet," she said, as the music started up again. Wendy took the rose from behind her ear.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm keeping myself from screaming," Wendy mumbled.

Your eyes cast a spell that bewitches.

The last time I needed twenty stitches

To sew up the gash

That you made with your lash,

As we danced to the Masochism Tango.

Her brown eyes flashed with anger as they started dancing again. She dug her sharp fingernails into his back. Cartman bit his lip to keep himself from screaming. She'd kill me if I made any more of a fuss. But he could feel that diamond ring he'd given her two weeks ago.

I told her we should've just got a gold ring. But no. Dumb bitch.

Bash in my brain,

And make me scream with pain,

Then kick me once again,

And say we'll never part.

"Now, we're going to dip again. Don't you dare drop me again," Wendy said, taking the rose out of her mouth. Cartman said nothing, but dipped her. She wrapped a leg around him and dug her heel in his fleshy skin.

"Ah!" This time, the instructor didn't bother stopping the other dancers. She just pointed to the chairs.

I know too well

I'm underneath your spell,

So, darling, if you smell

Something burning, it's my heart.

The two sat down, not talking. Cartman turned to his fiancée and started to say something, but she just crossed her arms.

"What's that smell?" he asked, after a while.

"Cooking class next door," she replied, tersely.

Take your cigarette from its holder,

And burn your initials in my shoulder.

"Goddamn, I wish I still smoked." Wendy smiled and looked at her diamond ring.

"Thanks for giving it up," she whispered. He smiled, wanly. "And thanks for coming to these dance classes."

"Whatever."

Fracture my spine,

And swear that you're mine.

The class began to walk out. The dance instructor walked up to Wendy, looking concerned.

"Listen, Wendy. I hate to interfere, but..." She slipped Wendy a business card. Wendy took a quick glance at it. Couples Counseling: Tuesdays and Thursdays.

"Thanks, Tina, but I don't think we need that," Wendy said, grinning at Cartman. He smiled back. As they walked away, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

As we dance to the Masochism Tango.