Hello! This is my first South Park story so please be nice! I got the idea from watching St. Trinian's and The Brother's Bloom hahha. Umm, if any pairings occur, they'll be Kyman and Creek. There'll also be side Style and Stendy.
Eric Cartman was not a coward, no matter what Kyle Broflovski used to say about him. Had he been such a coward, he surely wouldn't have become the greatest conman to ever grace the earth. Or, that was how he liked to think about it..
He had swindled thousands of people, broken into thousands more places and captured thousands more hearts before crushing those hopeful dreams they held and running off with their money. It was just the way a conman worked. A conman could never let himself care, because the moment he did, his con was already falling downhill. This fact was solely why Eric Cartman was the best. He was heartless, as his partner in crime often told him. He was a heartless bastard, but he was the best there was.
But he hadn't done anything amazing in nearly a year and he was starting to lose his edge. His partner brought up new ideas now and again, but Eric denied them. If he wasn't the supplier, he would deny it, because no idea thought up by someone else could be half as great as his.
"Eric, the police are snooping around the neighborhood."
He opened an eye to face his blonde friend, Kenny McCormick. The way he'd ended up had still surprised Eric, even though he'd been watching him grow all these years. Kenny's dark blonde hair had turned a lighter shade over the years and it fell messily around his head, different layers sticking out on weird angles when he'd never bothered to brush. His skin was a light tan and his crystal blue eyes were one of the most amazing pairs of eyes Eric had ever set sight on. They were such a beautiful blue; more blue than the Grace Bay Sea itself.
He had only laid sight on one pair of eyes that were more beautiful. A pair he'd never cared to admit, but those emerald greens were captivating in a way Eric couldn't explain. Once or twice when they were younger, he would fantasize about scooping them out of his enemy's sockets because he didn't think Jews deserved such beautiful eyes.
"Eric, are you listening to me?" Kenny crossed his arms, tapping his foot against the floor. "The police are snooping around the area. If they find you, you're toast."
"They won't find me," he replied, opening his other eye and propping himself up on his bed. He and Kenny never stayed in one place long enough to get found, but the occasional time the police were lucky enough to be snooping around the same area, the two men hightailed it to another safe area. "In any case, if they find me, they'll find you and you'll be toast too," he smirked, watching the irked expression on his friend's face.
They were staying in an old hotel on the corner of a street neither knew the name of. It didn't matter really; they would be gone soon anyway. "Pack up your things," Eric finally said, hopping up and giving his arms a good stretch. "Or, whatever you have."
Money from their last con on a pair of twins was running low and both men knew they needed to figure something out or they would have to start running credit card scams. "You should have a better idea," Kenny said once he'd packed up what little items he had into a small shoulder bag. Even though they were in the same boat, Eric still teased him about being poor every now and again. Kenny had learned to deal with it though. "Remember all those times in elementary school at South Park? You had a million and one ways to come up with your ten million. Are you telling me that now, at twenty-three, you've got nothing? Jesus, I thought you were better than that, tubby."
"I'm not fat," Eric mumbled, adding a soft, "anymore" at the end. When they'd hit high school and appearance did matter, he decided it was high time he really did grow some muscle. And he did. He'd lost his fat and gained some real muscles. Then he joined the football team. Kyle and Stan made fun of him for it, but Kenny told him he was making a good choice. This was part of the reason they were partners now. Kenny never gave up on him. Through all his experiments during junior high, high school and even part of college before he dropped out, he'd stayed by Eric's side, even when he was spending quality drug time with the talking towel that followed them around once back in South Park. Kenny was always the strangest one.
A few years back, when he was seventeen, he was arrested for having a meth lab in the basement of his home. He claimed that he didn't know anything about it, but he was ratted out by his neighbour. But that was back in South Park and God knows that when you're arrested in South Park, you get out pretty much the next day, and mostly it didn't matter what you did.
"Whatever," Kenny said, shoving his hands in his pockets and waiting for his companion. Eric grabbed a few clothes and books, shoving them into his backpack. He then grabbed what little money they had left and zipped it tightly into the front pouch.
Kenny crept over to the window and peered outside. The neighborhood was less than well off. It was sketchy and dark, even though it was daytime. He could see two cop cars parked on the side of the road and a few officers chatting up passersby.
"Oh, shit, dude, it's Wendy!" Kenny spun around, jabbing his finger at the dusty window. "She's here, man; she's still trying to find you."
"That annoying little bitch," Eric hissed under his breath. "How many times is she going to come after me before she realizes she'll never find me?"
"Maybe she's getting leads from Stan. He is her boyfriend, after all."
"No, Stan may be a pussy, but he wouldn't rat me out. In fact, I doubt he even knows where we are."
"Then, what about Kyle? He can track us down with the right information, you know. He was always a whiz with computers, plus, seeing as he's a detective for the force, it's highly possible," Kenny said.
Eric really didn't want to hear that from him. The last time he'd spoken to Kyle—really spoken to him was over the phone. Kyle had tracked him down to the Hotel de Luna somewhere south, but when the police broke into the place, he and Kenny had already fled. Eric called him from a payphone a few miles away, when he knew they were safe. Kenny had gone to get a burger, so he hadn't even known of the call and Eric planned to keep it that way.
"Kahl," Eric cooed into the phone once Kyle had been put on. "You keep trying and you keep failing."
"Cartman!" he heard the man on the other end snap. "Where are you, fatso?" he sounded panicked and Eric didn't know what to make of that.
"Like I'd tell a sneaky Jew like you," he retorted. "Besides, this little game of cat and mouse is rather fun, isn't it?"
"You asshole," Kyle breathed into the phone. "I'll find you one way or another, I promise you that. There's no way you're getting out of this a free man. I'm going to take you down!"
"Sure you are, Kahl, sure you are. You just keep thinking that." And with that, he hung up the phone and sauntered off toward the burger joint Kenny was eating at.
That was the last time he'd spoken to the fiery redhead. More than once he'd considered calling him up again just to torture him, but he'd always decided against it. What would he say? He hadn't even done anything major in the past year; he didn't know why Kyle and Wendy insisted on still finding him.
He wondered what Stan was doing. Both his girlfriend and his best friend were on the force, one being the detective and the other being the head of investigation. He wondered if Stan wanted to take him and Kenny down as much as Wendy and Kyle did. It almost made him wish he'd chosen another life. Maybe if he had become the CEO of that big company like he intended to, things would have been different. Kyle would have undoubtedly admired him more and Wendy wouldn't be after his ass all the time.
But that wouldn't be fun. Eric loved the constant rush of adventure that came with being a conman. You never knew where life would take you and that was one thing he ached for this past year. He had to find something else and fast or he was sure he'd lose his mind.
"Alright, Kenny, let's go through the back window. They won't catch us back there. Then, we can take the bus."
"Kay, man, let's go then. I don't want to get caught by psycho Wendy and her chick squad. Even if they are hot, they're insane and therefore, so not worth banging."
Eric rolled his eyes. Kenny was such a pervert; not like it mattered. If his partner was boring, there would be even less fun to be had. Plus, Kenny was really useful during cons where seducing girls was a number one. He enjoyed it far more than he should have.
The two teammates left through the back window, jumping onto the stairs leading down to the alleyway. Kenny was down on the ground first, followed by Eric only shortly after. The two gave each other a momentary glance before nodding and sneaking down the dirty, garbage clad alley to the main street. Kenny peered around the corner, motioning for Eric to run ahead when he saw the coast was clear. They jogged down the sidewalk, getting the odd stare from the townsfolk but dismissing it like it was nothing.
Yet again, they were on the run and yet again, Eric was starting to think up a plan and it all started with a phone call. A phone call that would set this little game of cat and mouse back into motion and at full force.
"Yo, Kenny, bus stop up ahead," Eric motioned to the sign, dodging a group of greasy teenagers. He groaned, rolling his eyes. "This is the last time you pick the town. You poor people are all attracted to each other, I swear."
"Fuck off, Eric. I didn't see you coming up with any better options. Next time you want to pick the town, don't act like such a prissy bitch with a dick up your ass." He jogged to a stop, reaching his arms behind his head and changing the subject completely. "When do you think the bus will be here? Wendy and her gang of sexy crime fighters are only a little while away. If they look around the corner, they'll probably see us."
"Yeah, well Wendy's a whore," Eric said. "She's a useless whore. Even if she does spot us, what's she gonna do, huh? Chase us down? Yeah, right."
"I suppose," Kenny mumbled, staring down the cracked pavement. "Hey. Bus."
The bus wobbled on its wheels as it rode down the street, stopping with a squeak in front of the men. The doors opened with a sigh, letting the two jump on and grab themselves some seats. They sat together in the back; Kenny let out a sigh and peered out the window next to him. "Damn, I see Wendy," he ducked his head, pulling Eric down with him.
"What's she doing?" Eric said.
"Some guy she's talking to is pointing to the hotel we were just in," he peered out the corner of the window. "She looks pissed," he chuckled. "She's sending her sexy squad in…"
Then, the bus started driving again, leaving behind Wendy's chance of catching them yet again. "Well, what now?" Kenny looked at his fellow conman. "You still don't have a plan?"
"On the contrary," Eric said. "I'm thinking."
"About what?"
"We need to make a phone call," he smirked.
"To who?"
"You know how much I hate including other people in our plans, but as far as heists go, this is going to be a big one. So, I'm not thrilled to admit it, but we might need a team."
"No way," Kenny grinned. "You're back on your toes, finally. So, what's the plan?"
"We're going to get my ten million," Eric said, "and we're going to accomplish that goal within one week because so help me, Mel Gibson, if I don't, then I have lost my touch. I may as well just get captured by Wendy and let Kyle have a good chuckle about it."
"What are you going on about, dude? You've completed thousands of things within less than a week before. This should be no problem. What exactly are you planning on doing anyway?"
"I told you. We're going on a heist to get my ten million."
"Yeah, but from where?"
"The old museum just outside of our hometown. The one that opened up the week we left for good."
"Shit… The things in that place are, like, priceless," Kenny said. "Why didn't you think of that sooner?"
"Because I never wanted to go back, dumbass," he paused momentarily before continuing. "South Park… I didn't want to ever have to return to it."
Kenny frowned, "Because of Kyle?"
"Not just that dirty little Jew," Eric sneered. "Everyone. They all suck."
"So, I take it this phone call isn't directed to South Park, then?" Kenny mumbled.
Eric stared out the window opposite Kenny, "Wrong again."