Disclaimer: All places and characters referenced to the television show South Park are the property of Trey Parker and Matt Stone
"Alright, children; make sure you don't forget to do your math homework for tomorrow. The questions are 1-15 odds only on page 235 and – Garrison was interrupted by the three o'clock bell – 2-20 evens only on page 236. Have a nice afternoon!"
All of the kids gathered up their things and headed for the hallway.
"So what are you doing this afternoon?" Kyle asked Stan as they reached their lockers.
"I don't know. I'll probably do this stupid math homework and then play videogames for a while. How about you?"
"Cartman thinks he can take me in a game of basketball. He was gloating about how much better he is than me at every aspect of it after we played during recess earlier. Can you believe that?" he said, throwing everything but his math book onto the shelf in his locker
"Cartman?" Stan closed his locker, "Yeah, I can believe that!"
Kyle giggled as the two headed toward the door.
"I know, right? So I challenged him to shut him up but he actually accepted!"
"Really?" Stan was genuinely surprised.
"Yeah, but he's to chicken to play me one on one so he got Kenny as a partner and wants to play a two on two."
"And you want me to be your partner?" Stan anticipated what was coming next.
"Yeah! We could totally cream those guys! We've done it before."
"I don't know dude… I got this math homework to do and…," Stan's voice was laced with disinterest.
"Please!" Kyle begged.
"I was just kidding, dude! Of course I'll be your partner!" He laughed.
"Man, you actually had me worried I was going to have to go find someone else to help me put Cartman in his place!"
"So when's the game?" Stan asked as they exited the school.
"Right now," Kyle beckoned toward the basketball courts on school ground where Cartman and Kenny were already dribbling a ball.
"This better not take too long… I need to be home soon," Stan followed.
"Me too. This shouldn't take long," they both chuckled as they approached the other two boys.
"Stan, huh? I told you Kenny!" Cartman threw the ball to him.
"First team to 25 points wins. Alright, Jew; are you ready to do this?"
Stan and Kyle took their positions on the court, "Bring it on fat boy!"
The first few minutes of the game were a pretty even trade. Stan and Kyle scored first but Cartman and Kenny quickly answered back. A surprisingly even number of points were traded until Kyle sunk a three-pointer and their team pulled ahead.
"Come on Kenny!" Cartman panted as he tried to guard the ball from his defender: Stan. "Get open Kenny! I can't do anything with Stan on my balls!"
Kenny juked left and right trying to break Kyle's defense but wherever he went, Kyle shadowed quickly.
"Gah! Screw it!" Cartman grasped the ball and attempted a shot, Stan bumped into him trying to swat the shot away.
"Foul!" Cartman yelled as the ball fell depressingly short of the hoop.
"Foul?" Stan was confused.
Cartman walked over to the ball and grabbed it up.
"I get at least one free shot for that!"
"I don't think so, Cartman! Stan barely even touched you!" Kyle interjected.
"Did so!" He pouted.
"Fouls exist because player behavior that jeopardizes the safety of another player is unacceptable, especially since basketball is a non-contact sport. There was no potential for injury there, Cartman. I mean Stan bumping into you didn't even shift your massive body weight, let alone put you in any danger of bodily harm," Kyle continued, "No foul!"
Cartman grimaced as he threw the ball toward Kyle, hard.
"Don't be a baby, Cartman! We still have a game to play."
Kyle stepped to the sideline.
"17-12, our lead," he called as he inbounded the ball to Stan.
Stan received the ball in heavy traffic but managed to weave between his two opponents into the open with a clear run to the other hoop.
"Go Stan!" Kyle cheered running up the court.
Stan quickly dribbled up to the three-point line and fluidly transitioned into a charged three-point jumper, he did not get the chance to follow through completely as he was violently shoved off balance in mid-air. He extended his arms instinctively in an attempt to cushion his backward fall. Stan landed hard on the solid-cement basketball court.
"Now that is a foul, Cartman – the three point shot is all net – Three points plus two free shots!" Kyle smirked at Cartman.
"Two shots?! That was not a foul!" Cartman whined.
"That was the definition of a foul, Cartman. You could have really hurt Stan!"
The slight pause in conversation was filled with a faint whimpering.
"Stan?" Kyle turned to the boy who was still on the ground, cradling his right arm to his chest.
"Stan?!" He rushed to the side of his super best friend and kneeled down beside him. Cartman and Kenny walked over.
Kyle could see the tears streaming down his cheeks.
"Stan, what's wrong?!" Kyle was very concerned.
"It – it hurts… It really, really hurts…," He sniveled, pulling his arm closer to his body.
"What hurts?!"
"My – my wrist…," he mewled.
"Oh, please. He's just over dramatizing it so he can get the foul shots! The pros do it all the time!" Cartman dismissed Stan's 'injury'.
"Shut up, Cartman!" Kyle snapped, "I think you really did hurt him!"
"Well I guess that means we won the game then, doesn't it, Kahl?" Cartman beamed. "I told you I was better at basketball than you, Jew! Come on, Kenny; let's get out of here. We can go to my house and you can watch me eat some dinner. Maybe I'll give you the scraps"
Kenny turned back to give a concerned look at his other two friends before walking off with Cartman back toward his house.
Kyle shrugged off the fat boy's stupidity and blatant lack of empathy or remorse and turned back to his hurt friend.
"Let me see it, Stan," Kyle held out his hand.
Stan moaned painfully as he slowly extended his right arm out to Kyle.
Kyle observed a large black and blue area around his buddy's already visibly swollen wrist.
"Can you move it?"
Stan gingerly tried to move his wrist.
Unsuccessful, the boy merely shook his head no.
"I think this is serious, Stan."
He was full-on crying by this point.
"It'll be okay, dude," Kyle soothed, patting him on the leg. "We need to get you home. Are you okay to walk?"
Stan nodded and extended his left arm to Kyle for help up.
The two quickly made their way back to the Marsh residence. Considering the circumstance, Kyle let himself in unbeknownst with Stan in toe still cradling his arm.
"Mrs. Marsh!" Kyle yelled.
"Kyle? Stanley? Is that you?" Sharon's voice echoed from the kitchen, "I spent all day cooking your dad's favorite dish for dinner tonight and it turns it he has to work late! And on top of that Shelly is going out to eat with some of her friends tonight! We'll have a lot of extra food if you want to stay for dinner, Kyle."
"Mrs. Marsh, please! This is an emergency!"
The sounds of rustlings pots and pans and the sounds of dropping cooking utensils could be heard as she rushed out of the kitchen into the living room where her crying son and his distraught best friend were standing side by side.
"Stanley?!" She rushed over to her son, "What happened?!"
"We – we were playing basketball and Cartman pushed Stan during a shot and I think he's really hurt!" Kyle stammered.
Sharon took her son's left hand and led him to the couch.
"What's wrong, honey?"
"My wr-wrist hurts…"
"Can I see it?"
Stan held his arm out just as he had showed Kyle.
She observed the bruises and swelling as well and gently touched the area with the backside of her fingertips to see how bad the swelling was, this caused Stan to yelp in pain.
"I'm sorry, sweetie!" She rubbed circles on his back to calm him down.
"Can you move it for me?"
Without wanting to cause himself any more unnecessary pain, he just shook his head no without trying again.
"Kyle, can you grab me the ice pack from the freezer and a towel from the drawer in the kitchen, please?"
He nodded and ran to the kitchen.
"You'll be alright, Stanley," she pulled him into a gentle embrace, lulling him.
Kyle promptly returned with the ice pack and towel and handed them to Sharon.
"Can I see your arm again, please?" Sharon extended her arm to support her son's above the point of injury. "This might hurt a little bit but we need to do it, okay?"
Stan was worried but agreed nonetheless.
"Kay…"
Sharon carefully placed the ice pack on the affected area and began snuggly wrapping the towel around it and Stan's lower forearm to stabilize it.
This pressure induced intense pain and again reduced Stan to tears.
"Okay, Stanley. Can you be a big boy for me?"
"Yeah…," he sniffed and exhaled deeply.
"Alright, sweetheart. We need to take you to the hospital; I think your wrist might be broken."