AN: THE CANNON! Oh, how I love The Cannon. Well... not love it... but yeah... I am Cynical B. Itch (who inspired this story a bit [a lot]) Nightie wrote this BUT IT WOULD NEVER HAVE REACHED YOUR EYES IF IT WASN'T FOR ME XDDDDD. It has been dedicated to me by Nightie herself. You should also read this * http:/www . cracked . com/article_ 17372_ 18-more-worlds-most- disturbing-sex-toys .html *(just, you know, delete the spaces) to get the full POWER of The Cannon.
Disclaimer: *has run out of witty disclaimers* Meh. Isn't the word enough?
"Oh Buuuutters..." Cartman called out sweetly as he entered the room. "I have a present for youuuuu..."
"What?" He heard the other's excited squeak from somewhere in the house as he walked in, and quick footsteps sounded from inside, the blond appearing in the hallway. Cartman grinned as Butters bounced toward him, latching around his thick girth with clutching hands. Butters looked more like an excited puppy than a human being, all smiles and blushes.
"You got me a present?" He let go of Cartman and bounced in front of him, eager. "Ooh, thank you, Eric, wha' is it, wha' is it?"
The brunet ran fingers through the smooth gold hair, his honeyed voice coming out as thick as syrup. "I got it 'cause I know how much you love surprises..."
"I'ah do, oh please, tell me, wha' is it?" Butters pleaded.
Cartman's grin grew ever-wider at the innocent eagerness in his boyfriend's eyes, reaching into the bag he held and pulling out a large unmarked box. Opening it, he retrieved The Cannon from inside, and Butter's smile dropped, his face paling. Cartman stroked the surface with one finger, his devious smirk growing at the look on the other's face. "I saw it and I knew you'd love it...we could go up to the room, and...have some fun with it, whaddya think?"
Butters took a step back, his eyes riveted on the huge thing. "I-I...what?" He squeaked pathetically.
Cartman took a step forward, eyes flashing evilly. "What, Butters? You don't wanna play with it?"
Only a tiny strangled noise came from Butters' mouth. The brunet chuckled, taking another step forward. "Come on, Buttercup, it'll be great. We can play with it all day, if you want..." He leaned toward the blond a bit, teasingly nearing the thing toward Butters' face.
As soon as it touched his cheek, Butters snapped. "Wha' did my ass ever do t'you for you t' think it deserves that?" he wailed, running from the room sobbing.
Cartman grinned triumphantly, turning to the little table in the middle of the living room couches. Wiping off an invisible fleck of dust there, he placed The Cannon on it, petting it lovingly.
"Good boy." He chuckled.
Cartman was sitting in the kitchen with Butters, eating breakfast wit him when the doorbell rang. He placed his meaty palms on the table, intent on getting up, but Butters got up first. "I'll get it, Eric!" The blond chirped.
"Thanks." Cartman grinned, slapping his boyfriend on the ass as he passed. Butters jumped with a squeak and a giggle and left. After a second the brunet heard the door open, and a murmur of voices before Butters' called out,
"Eric! It's Stan; he says he wants t' talk t' you!"
Grumbling, Cartman heaved himself up, cursing people that wanted to interrupt him when it was breakfast time. He walked into the living room, and Butters left the two of them, walking back into the kitchen to finish his own breakfast. The brunet sighed loudly enough so that Stan knew he was being a bother and said, "Whaddya want?"
The raven ignored the sigh, being used to Cartman's ways, and stepped inside without invitation, knowing that Cartman wouldn't invite him in anyway. "Hey, I haven't seen the guys in a while, and me and Kyle got everyone together for some drinks tomorrow. Kenny said to invite you, seeing as you owe him money or something."
"I don't owe po' boy, nothin'." Cartman scoffed, clearly remembering the fifty bucks he'd bet him that he couldn't eat 250 Peeps in one sitting. Damn asshole had a stomach on him, that was for sure...and an insane sugar tolerance. Stan shrugged and walked in a little farther, and then froze as his eyes alighted on The Cannon, sitting on the living room table.
"...Cartman...what is that?"
The larger male grinned suddenly, an evil light shining in his brown eyes. "That's The Cannon." He said loftily. "It's Butters' private plaything."
There was a sudden choking sound from the kitchen and a series of coughs started. Stan looked completely horrified, staring at it with a slightly green tinge to his face. Cartman was just laughing his ass off on the inside.
Stan left very quickly that day.
Cartman steadied the camera, making sure it was aligned right and both The Cannon and the Coke can next to it could clearly be seen. Holding his tongue in his cheek, he snapped the picture, and looked at it through the display screen critically. He grinned. Perfect.
Walking into their bedroom, he found Butters in front of their PC, checking his email."Butters! Get offa there, I gotta go on!"
The blond turned a pout on him, staring up at him with big blue puppy eyes. Cartman was barely moved. It worked better when Butters was naked. "But Eric, it'll jus' take a few minutes..."
"No, go on the laptop or something!" Cartman demanded.
"But...it's still got tha' virus on i—" Butters tried to protest, but Cartman crossed his arms, leveling a stare at him. The blond sighed, standing up unhappily. Moving away, he muttered lowly, "I'ah ain't gonna make you almond puddin' no more..."
"Ay! What?"
Butters squeaked and darted out of the room, and Cartman frowned after him. Ooh, he better not have been threatening him for real... Settling his ass on the computer chair, he plugged in the camera to the computer, putting the picture he had just taken in his folder. He opened up a new tab on the internet browser, leaving Butters' email untouched—he didn't actually want to upset his boyfriend...and he wasn't about to risk his almond pudding—and opened up his own email account, one under an alias and not his own name, clicking the 'Compose New' button. The subject was, "Congratulations! You've just won a new plasma-screen TV!"
This town was a sucker for free stuff.
Chuckling, he attached the picture he'd taken, and sent the recipients to all of the town. This was going to be fun.
Somewhere across town, Tweek heard a ping from his phone and looked up from the embrace he was currently in. Slipping an arm away, he reached into his pants pocket, drawing out his phone. He'd gotten a new email. Hmm.
"What is it?" Craig asked. He'd heard a ring from his phone as well, but that was all the way across the room on the dresser, and he wasn't going to get up just for that. Tweek muttered lowly something about spam and viruses as he saw the subject was about a free TV, but opened it up anyway.
He paled and fell off the couch screaming, clawing frantically at his eyes. "OH GOD, MY EEEEYES! THEY BUUUUURN!"
Craig picked up the fallen phone, looking at the email. He curled his lip in disgust. "Gotta be that fatass..."
"Hey! Hey Sharon, look! I won a free plasma-screen TV!" Randy pointed excitedly to his computer screen.
His wife's voice came from the bathroom. "It's probably just spam, honey, you know that."
Randy gave off something like a raspberry, muttering defiantly. "No, maybe it isn't..."
Clicking on the email and continuing to mutter, he opened it up. "What the—"
Leaning over to the side, he threw up violently on the carpet.
Kenny was walking through the streets of South Park when his phone beeped at him. Taking it out of his back pocket, he flipped it open. A new email...oh cool. He read the subject. A free TV? Sweet! Opening it up, he stared. And stared.
"My God," he breathed reverently. "Where have you been all my li—"
He only got that far before a speeding semi ran him over.
Later that night, Cartman sat on the couch with Butters, holding him to his side possessively—some bastard had been ogling him when they went out to eat earlier, fucking hippie—as they watched the evening news.
"Tonight, we have a special story," The anchorman said. "Just today, the Hell's Pass Hospital has received a sudden pouring in of patients suffering from massive trauma caused by vomiting, as well as scores of attempted suicide, and the entire town is in an uproar. The cause? A mass email sent out offering a free TV, but only containing this picture."
Butters froze as The Cannon and Coke can appeared on the screen, whimpering slightly and clutching onto Cartman's side in terror. The other only grinned, pulling him in tighter.
Yes, today had been a good day.
Butters woke up suddenly, instantly alert. Something had woken him up, but what? Listening intently, he cocked his head curiously. There was silence, and then he heard the squeaky bathroom window close, and a door creak open. Eyes wide, he saw a shadow pass under the door.
Stifling a shriek, he shook Eric urgently, trying to wake him up.
"Eric! Eric, wake up!" he whispered anxiously. His lover groaned and stirred slightly. "Eric, please!"
"If you wanna get fucked again, wait 'till the morning." Cartman grunted, yawning and trying to remain asleep.
"But, Eric!"
The other sighed. "Fine." Lifting himself up, he pushed Butters down, trapping his lips as his large hands roamed over the blond's naked body. He felt himself harden and smirked. "Only a quickie, though, I wanna sleep." He muttered. "And you gotta make me pudding for breakfast if you want it to be any longer than that."
Butters struggled to make himself heard, but he was being kissed, and sex with Eric was beckoning. Damn. Pushing the temptations away with a regretful heart, he pulled back, trying not to let Eric see how turned on he was already. "No, Eric, tha's not what I 'ah meant!" He pleaded.
Cartman rolled his eyes. "What?"
"There's someone in th' house!" Butters whispered frantically. "I'ah heard them!"
Cartman weighed his choices pensively. He could stay here, and have sex with Butters, and it would most likely be much longer than a quickie even without the breakfast pudding and he would enjoy himself very throughly and sleep even better when they were finally done. Or, he could go and confront whatever asshole that had broken into his house.
"Whatever." he grunted, bending down to suck at Butters' neck—he liked to leave marks where other people could see them. The idiot out there could wait; he was about to get laid—again—and he wasn't about to let some thief interrupt hot sex with Butters.
Butters moaned as he felt Cartman's lips, trying futilely to resist—he liked Eric leaving marks where people could see them. "B-but Eriiiiiic..." the name came out like a groan. "What if...what they take somethin'? Or...mmm, t-try...try to come in here?"
Cartman gave a huff and drew back. "What do I get if I go?"
The blond thought anxiously, and then sighed in resignation. "I'ah'll...I'ah'll let y'use th' cock ring again..." He figured his life was worth the embarrassment of begging like a whore on Eric's lap.
The brunet brightened up. "Fuck yes!" Lifting himself up, he swung his feet off of the bed, picking up his boxers from off the floor and pulling them on. He reached into his bedside drawer and pulled out his gun, and with a silence that would astound mere mortals, was out the door before Butters could change his mind. Ghosting down the hallway, he stopped and listened, and heard a noise coming from the living room.
Frowning at having to do this when he could be fucking Butters, he comforted himself with the thought that his sex life was going to be much more busy from now on if he had his way—and he always had his way with Butters, heheh—and peered into the living room. He paused, raising an eyebrow.
Kenny was standing in his living room, holding The Cannon and cooing to it like a baby. Cartman stepped into the room, voice weary and slightly irritated.
"Kenny...what're you doing?"
The blond froze, eyes darting around and meeting Cartman's. He stared at him for a second. "Uhh...nothing?" There was a pause. "YOU'LL NEVER CATCH ME ALIVE!" He screamed and ran toward a window, jumping out of it with a loud crash. Cartman watched as he ran through the town, holding the massive thing in his hands.
He let out a frustrated groan, looking down at the tent in his boxers. Dammit, he was gonna go back, fuck Butters like he should have done in the first place and then go to sleep; fuck this shit.
Turning around, he went back to his room, where he could gift his blond with the greatness that was his hard dick.