"Ay! Where are my cheesy poofs? Butters! BUTTERS!"
"Coming, Eric!" I called as I came bustling out of the kitchen. "Here you go!" I said with a cheery smile, handing the junk food over.
"It's about time." He started to shovel it all into his mouth, then stopped and looked over, considering me. "Don't be such a fag, Butters." He said decisively, before turning back to his one 'o clock snack.
"Yes, of course, s-sorry, Eric." I mumbled, sitting down onto the couch next to him. I don't know why he would say that to me- I was only trying to be nice. But that was how Eric Cartman- my boyfriend of almost two years- was. He was a fat-ass, racist neo-Nazi who enjoyed watching kids he hated eat their own parents. He was a manipulative bastard but that was the way I liked him- being himself with no smoke, mirrors or compromises. I suppose he also liked the way that I was as well: gullible, quiet out-of-the-way, willing to do anything he asked me to do Butters Stotch. I was okay with this though. I may get grounded from time to time for doing what he wants, but he always charms them into lessening my punishment. Besides, now I had someone who cared about me outside of the family- even if it's waaaay down in there.
Some people, including my parents, did not like Eric. In fact, they hated him. Kenny McCormick, Stan Marsh, and Kyle Broflovski constantly told me that Eric like to abuse and take advantage of me.
I knew he loved me though. It showed little things he did for me such as allowing me to give him hugs in public (even though he made sure it was brief and that no one was watching). Or when he let me have the very last cheesy poof if I was sent to bed without dinner, however rare he did that. Oh, and he even let me give him my ideas on his plans once…although, he didn't use them because they were "inadequate."
I suppose this would be the naiveté that would lead to my downfall and the loss of my gullibility.