It was a nice and quiet, peaceful day after school. Stan, Kyle and Kenny sat around in the grass, taking turns burning the heads off a bunch of old barbie dolls they'd stolen from Stan's sister Shelly. Kyle noticed a chubby figure in a blur through the corner of his eye, and it seemed to be running straight for Stan's backyard where they played. He looked up to confirm the misfortune. "Oh god. Here comes fatass," he mumbled. Kenny and Stan looked up to see the boy running faster than he had ever run before. "You guys! You guys!" Cartman shouted from across the yard. They momentarily stopped their after school activity to see what the big fuss was about.
"What is it this time, Cartman?" Stan sighed. "You guys! I have the best. Idea. Ever," the fat boy panted vigorously.
The other boys looked at him, waiting for him to continue. "Okay. Are you ready? It's...cancer-free underwear," he blurted out. Kenny raised an eyebrow. Obviously, their excitement didn't quite match his own.
"What the hell does that mean?" Kyle asked.
"Well, you know how people are so scared of getting cancer nowadays that they'll do anything to prevent it? My mom got me all these crappy pairs of underwear from Wal-Mart, and I obviously don't need them. So I thought, hey, we can sell them to people saying that they'll prevent cancer, and then charge them like $100 a pair! Genius idea, right?"
"That's the dumbest idea you've ever had..this week," Kyle replied.
"Mmhmm, I agree," Kenny spoke, voice muffled through his hood.
Cartman's facial expression shifted from looking excited to looking pissed. "No it's not! It's totally smart! You guys are just jealous you didn't think of it first!" he yelled.
"Okay, whatever. We're still not going to help you exploit a serious disease for some lame ass scam," Kyle argued. "Besides, nobody would be dumb enough to believe that underwear is going to prevent cancer. It's impossible."
"Yeah Cartman, I mean you've come up with some stupid ideas before, but this one is pretty retarded," Stan added, picking up the flame lighter to resume in the burning of dolls.
"Oh yeah? Well I'm going to prove you hippies wrong! If you don't want to help me, that's just fine! Just means more money for me then. Screw you guys, I'm going home!" Cartman raised his middle finger at them all, pointing it in the opposite direction, before storming out of Stan's yard angrily.
10 minutes later.
Butters was drawing pictures of smiling suns when he heard the doorbell ring. He opened it to find Cartman standing there with a pile of stuff in his arms. "Butters! I have the greatest idea ever, but I need your help," he panted.
20 minutes later.
Butters pulled at the ugly suspenders on his pants, watching as they flung back at his chest annoyingly. He put the briefcase he was holding down for a moment to reposition the oversized glasses on his face. It was Cartman's idea for them to dress like nerds, though he wasn't exactly sure what that had to do with the plan.
Cartman had his hair gelled and wore a lab coat with large glasses. Presumably, to look like a scientist.
"Okay, what did you do with the briefcase?" he asked.
"It's uh-right here." Butters picked up the briefcase and they made their way down the street. The door-to-door salesmenship had begun. Cartman smirked to himself..he knew that by the end of the day, Kyle and those douchebags would be so jealous once they found out how much money he'd made. Money simply wasn't a matter for people when it came to cancer.
30 minutes later.
Cartman sat on the curb, frustrated. The briefcase was still full of underwear, even after visiting every house on the block. Their tally so far = zero sales.
"God dammit! Why doesn't anyone want to buy our stuff! It's not fayaiirrrr!" he whined.
"W-well maybe we just haven't found the right target audience yet. We've only tried sellin' em to people in their mid thirties and fourties. Maybe they don't care about cancer all that much?" Butters responded. In all honesty, he thought the idea was pretty darn silly even when he first heard about it, but he didn't want Eric beatin' him up or nothing, so he just went along with it.
Then a light-bulb went on in Cartman's head. "That's it, Butters. We just have to find some old people. Old people are super lame and will believe anything you tell them!"
Butters shrugged. "Well, I know one house a couple blocks down, an' they say some old crazy lady lives in it. Maybe we should try there," he suggested.
10 minutes later. At the old crazy lady's house.
They waited on the doorstep as an old woman came out, one large popeye staring down at them in interest. "Can I help ya darlins?" she croaked as she opened the front door. This woman must have been at least 80 years old. Perfect, Cartman thought.
"Oh, hello Maam!" he said through a fake cheery smile. "We're part of the American University of Cancer Studies of Colorado. We were wondering if you would be interested in some our special, groundbreaking new products in cancer prevention. How would you feel if I told you that you could be cancer free for the rest of your life?" he piped up.
The woman raised a hand to her chin and rubbed it, her popeye closing slightly. Butters couldn't help but notice the pulsating mole on her forehead. He cringed slightly at the sight.
"Well, y'see hunny, I've got so many diseases already..I don't think getting cancer would hurt much. Y'see, every day I wake up to more broken bones, not to mention these strange warts that have been popping up all over..it also seems lately that my hair is falling out." She pointed to her balding scalp, and suddenly Butters felt overwhelmingly guilty. His slow brain started to wonder if maybe helping Cartman wasn't a good deed after all.
"Not to worry maam, our specially designed underwear can help you with all of those problems. They're made with all natural cotton and infused with antioxidants and other medicines that will cure all your health problems," Cartman explained. He nudged Butters in the arm, and the boy pulled a cheap pair of Walmart undies out from the briefcase. "Uh-here you go lady, have a free sample. T-They're really flexible, so uh, one size should fit all."
The woman took the underwear and stretched them with her bony fingers, as if to test their durabilty. "My my, these are very nice panties," she commented.
"Why yes, they are. Super durable, and they'll solve all your troubles!" Cartman grinned.
"And these are scientifically engineered, you say?" she inspected them with her reading glasses, obviously not noticing the big "Fruit of the Loom" tag inside of them.
"Yes maam, developed by NASA scientists," Butters replied nervously.
"Well in that case, I'll take 12!" the lady responded. Cartman's face lit up right then and there; he had her by the hook now. "No problem! That will just be a hundred dollars, please," he said.
She looked hesitant for a moment, but then spoke. "Well..I suppose that's a fair price for health. I'll be right back with the money!" She turned and shut the door, retreating back into the house to find her purse. Cartman waited ecstatically, unable to keep the huge smile off his face. He couldn't wait to get one hundred dollars.
"You know, Eric, I-I dunno if what we're doing is really right," Butters said, interrupting Cartman's trail of conniving thoughts.
"God dammit," Cartman thought. He was not going to let Butters ruin this one for him. He shot him a devious glare, causing Butters to nervously rub his knuckles together.
"What are you talking about? This is freaking awesome! She's going to pay me one hundred dollars for some crappy underwear that only cost five dollars at Walmart!" he mused. "This is our best accomplishment to date!"
"W-wuh well, yeah, but I just don't think it's very nice trick old ladies. Besides, what do I get out of this for helpin' you, anyway?" Butters asked.
Cartman arched his eyebrows. Obviously, the Jew tactics from Kyle had begun to rub off on Butters; he was starting to expect actual compensations for his efforts. "Well asshole, you can either keep your mouth shut or you can have a knuckle sandwich. The choice is yours," he warned, raising a fist. Butters decided to keep quiet after that. He kept his focus the door, anxiously waiting for the lady to return.
The woman returned seconds later with her purse, hunching her way back to them. "Ehh sonny, I found my purse. But it seems I don't have a hundred dollars at the moment. How about instead I give you five dollars and some cookies? I just made them and they're very sweet. Oatmeal raisin, I might add," she grunted, smiling sweetly.
Cartman's face paled, his hopes shattered into pieces. It was just too good to be true, wasn't it? Whenever he thought he'd finally succeeded at something, God had to come and kick him in the balls, before ripping the dollar signs out from before his eyes.
"Maam, I don't think you understand that these are state of the art undergarments we're talking about. I can't just sell them to you for five dollars," he argued.
The woman looked sad for a moment, then sighed and turned around. "Well, I'm afraid you'll just have to take your business elsewhere then. Good luck." She was just about to shut the door on them, but Cartman budged his arm in before it could close. "Wait! Five dollars is better than nothing...perhaps we can make a deal."
30 minutes later.
Cartman threw his glasses on the ground as he counted the five dollar bills in his hand. He wiped the cookie crumbs off his mouth. "God damn penny-pinching senile bitch!" he yelled. "She totally owned us!"
Butters just shrugged. "Aw, don't be so harsh Eric. At least you made some bit of money."
Cartman furrowed his eyebrows. "Whatever. I guess you're right. So we didn't get our asking price, but at least we got something. Besides, those cookies weren't too bad."
Butters looked at him in bewilderment. "Wait. You..you ate the cookies? All of them?" he asked in disbelief.
"Yeah dude, they tasted pretty good," Cartman replied with a burp. But the way Butters was staring at him was starting to worry him. "Butters; why are you looking at me like that?"
"W-Well..i-it's just that, rumor says that there's an old lady on that street who likes to give little children poisoned cookies. I heard a few months ago, a kid named Billy Turner died just because of that."
Cartman's eyes went wide in fear. "OH MAH GAHD! Are you serious?"
"I'm afraid so. You've probably only got 5 hours until you're next," Butters replied in a grim tone.
"Oh Jesus, I gotta go to the hospital!" Cartman dashed down the sidewalk like a madman, not noticing the five dollars he'd dropped on the ground as he left.
Butters smirked deviously as he watched him run away. He picked the dollars up off the pavement and stuffed them into his pocket. "Idiot," he cackled.