"Fuck off!" Kyle screamed as he looked over his shoulder. In his line of vision was the image of Eric Theodore Cartman, complete with all the personality traits Kyle hated him for.
"Hmm, let me think about that one...No. I do what I want. And I want to know what is wrong with you. So shut up and talk." Cartman demanded, sitting down on the bench next to his Ginger enemy.
"Shut up and talk? Oh their not contradicting commands at all." Kyle shot back, shuffling up the bench in order to get away from Cartman. The attempt failed because though Cartman had lost weight, he made up for it with plenty of muscle and he took up most of the said outside furniture.
"You know what I mean, you sneaky Jew-rat. Now tell me." Cartman ordered again, bringing his knee to cross over his right one so he could rest his elbow on it.
"Stan and me broke up again!" Kyle suddenly blurted out, and Cartman's eyes widened slightly. "Why the hell does he keep doing this to me? Its like he likes to see me hurt like this! Sick bastard. He just always pick fights...He's like you in some ways! Why, Cartman, why? Its not fair." Kyle sobbed, covering his newly freckled face (It was Summer after all) with his also sun-kissed hands as he cried. Cartman rolled his eyes and chuckled sadistically.
"Beacuse your a Jew, idiot." At that statement Kyle's head jerked back up almost as an instinct to hearing the insult.
"Shut up! Just shut up! Why are you even here? Why do you keep turning up, offering me a shoulder to cry on, then punch me when I'm already down? Fuck you!" Kyle shouted, jumping up and balling his fists.
"One, I'm here because I'm bored of listening to you ramble on about your shit and annoying everyone in South Park with it. Two, I did not lend you a shoulder to cry on. As if I would want you disgusting Jew-tears staining my t-shirt. And three, I did not punch you when you were down. I gave you a good and simple answer. Your a Jew. Jew's are stupid, and can never admit what's obvious!" Cartman told him in a steady voice, raising his volume slightly when he spoke the last part. Kyle raised his eyebrows.
"And what's so obvious?" Kyle questioned, sitting back down but keeping a safe distance away from the brown haired boy.
"That you should be with me." Cartman said and before Kyle had time to even register that, he smashed his lips against the Jew's and latched his fingers onto the said boy's ginger locks. It was a short kiss, rough but passionate, and when it was over Kyle just sat there for a while, thinking.
"Why did you do that?" He asked, pushing back the strong feelings of guilt for kissing someone who wasn't Stan. Oh god, Stan.
"Because I love you. And I know you love me. Honestly, Stan's just a dick and a complete hippie. Break up with him for good. He's just a jackass who's been stealing what is mine!" Cartman exclaimed, pointing at Kyle as he made the possessive accusation.
"One," Kyle began, copying Cartman. "I hate you. Two, yes he can be a dick but he's not a hippie. You need to think of more insults, fatso! Three, I'll probably do that. Four, I am not yours." Kyle told him, crossing his arms.
"Yes you are. And you don't hate me." Cartman laughed as Kyle scowled.
"Yes I do." Kyle argued, glaring at the teenager in front of him. Suddenly, his lips were almost entwined with someone else's and he was simply overwhelmed because the passion and the heat in that moment was so intense. Fingers tangled themselves in his hair and tugged at the natural strands of ginger as he panicked mentally about what the hell he should do with his hands. He didn't have to worry for long though as Cartman soon pulled away again.
"Oh no you don't." Cartman declared in a low whisper.
Then he made Kyle worry some more.