Disclaimer: I don't own South Park. I am not making money off this (I honestly don't think I could if I tried.)
A/N: Kyle's POV.
"Ai! What dirty hippie stole my chocolate caramel munchie snacks!"
Screechy Cartman voice drifts into my room through my open window. Crap, the fatass is here.
"Oomph. Dff lkkk um mm."
And apparently Kenny too.
"Kenny, I know it wasn't YOU. It was probably Jew-boy. Let's go ask him."
DING DONG.
Goddamit. Please, Mom, do NOT let them in the house. Mom, I repeat, do NOT under any circumstances, let them walk up those stairs. Don't let them be knocking on my door.
Crap. That is most definitely Cartman's annoying bang of a knock on my bedroom door.
With a swoosh I open my door to find my friend/enemy Eric Cartman and his shadow, Kenny. He glares at me menacingly. Although it doesn't have much of an effect since he has a big streak of dirt on his cheek, giving him the look of a grumpy four-year-old.
"Kehl, I KNOW you took my candy. Where is it, eh? In that faggy little dresser of yours, your closet maybe? WHERE THE HELL IS MY CANDY!"
Oh, the dramatics. His whore-y mommy seriously needed to get him some therapy.
"Goddamit, Cartman! I didn't steal anything! Now leave me the hell alone."
Peripherally, I see Kenny digging through the drawers in my bedside table. My seven pairs of green underwear are being thrown about- on my TV… my bookshelf… out the window.
"Kenny!"
"Shweee, Kmm."
He drops my undies and goes to rummage through my closet.
"Kenneh! Don't apologize to the Jew! You'll just encourage it."
Cartman has joined Kenny in the ransackment of my poor bedroom.
I give up on my attempts to halt their futile search for candy. Bemoaning, I fall onto my bed with a resounding THUMP.
A few grueling moments later I hear an AHA!
Uh-oh. An aha was never good coming from Cartman. Kenny is snickering in the background. An owl hoots. Thunder rolls. A car backfires. Goddam, I just KNEW something bad was going to happen.
Cartman dances around my bed waving a green, spiral notebook in my face. "Ha ha ha ha. I found Kyle's JOURNAL. I found Jew-boy's JOURNAL!"
He lets out a few raspy notes of song before collapsing on my floor to read through it.
"You, fatass! Give that back, dammit!"
I just know that my ears have turned cherry-red. Fuck it all.
He continues to arrogantly flip through the book, accentuating each turn to mock me. Kenny stands behind him, reading out loud from the pages.
"Mmph nhmph me shtnnnmm. Mhh npphh shnunun. Chhh muh luuuh."
No! Cartman can't know that! It's my biggest secret! He'll rub it in my face forever! No!
Despite my clumsy grabs at the book, Kenny continues.
"Jppphh uh dpphh shnnff hwwffh guh."
I let out a scream in Cartman's eardrum. "ARGH! GODDAMIT CARTMAN! GIVE ME THE FUCKING BOOK!"
Sneering, victorious Cartman is so much worse than any other Cartman. Worse than annoying, screechy Cartman, worse than diabolical Cartman, even worse than Jew bashing, neo-Nazi Cartman.
Kenny lets out a triumphant yelp as he reads the last line from that fateful paragraph. Stupid journal.
"Ndd thss whoo hmm lub hm."
I let out an outraged war cry as I lunge for him.
"Oh my God, you killed Kenny!"
Stan screams down from the street below us.
Godammit! I sigh.
"I'm a bastard."
Cartman's laughing his fat freakin' ass off in the corner, holding onto my notebook like it's his fucking Dawson's Creek trapper-keeper or his last bag of cheesy poofs. His snorting subsides when he notices the rats starting to eat away at Kenny. His eyes screw up in confusion. "What the fuck did you do to Kenny, hippie?"
Stan shuffles into my room to stand next to me and we both stare at Kenny's flesh being teared away at.
"Holy shit, dude! WHY exactly did you kill Kenny? Again?"
I mumble and shake my head in disbelief.
Cartman finally gets up and points an accusing finger in my face. He leans in close and I smell chocolate on his breath. "You fucking Jew! This just proves it! I am gonna kill you all, just you wait! I'm gonna exterminate all you bastards so you can't harm people like poor Kenny ever AGAIN!"
Stan pulls him away from me. "Come on, fatass. You're just trying to come up with another reason to kill Kyle. You don't really care about Kenny."
He huffs indignantly. "Oh, and how would you know, hippie?"
Stan talks slowly, enunciating every syllable so dumbass Cartman can understand him. "Because you are a Grade-A son of a whore fucked up BASTARD."
Cartman yelps and jumps out of Stan's grip.
"AI! You sons of bitches hippie Jesus-hating FREAKS! You know what…"
Stan and I look at each other, rolling our eyes, knowing what's coming next.
"SCREW you guys… I'm going HOME!"
He saunters out, forgetting the notebook (thank God.)
Stan goes over and sits on my bed.
"Dude, what was THAT about?"
I shake my head at him. "Nothing. Cartman being Cartman."
I speak quickly, averting my eyes. Stan gives me a weird look but accepts my excuse.
We just got out Monopoly when Cartman comes back in. He leans lazily against the door, holding his hand up and staring at his fingernails, ignoring us.
"What do you want, Cartman?"
He gives me the evil eye and walks up to Stan.
"Hey, Stan. Just thought you might want to know that Jew-boy over there is in love with you. Goodnight."
He grabs my notebook on the way out, glaring maliciously at me the whole time.
Fucking fatass.
I let out an oomph as an unconscious Stan falls into my arms.
A/N: Reviews are much appreciated.