Get Your Big Fat Ass Out Of My Face
Kyle Broflovski didn't want to be on the wrestling team. It was the last thing on his mind in fact, as he wasn't one to try out for any sport whatsoever. But Nurse Gollum was a bitch and said he had to try out for sports teams so he could be more healthy. What was healthy about getting bruised and exhausted was completely beyond Kyle.
Team sports used to be for anyone who wanted to play on them but since the Middle Park school burned down, all their students were bussed to South park elementary and team sports were officially try-out worthy. Kyle did not make the football team. Or the soccer team. Or the baseball team. He had wanted a team sport desperately, in hopes of being benched for the year perhaps, but it was no good. So he had to sign up for a sport of one on one combat. Apparently, chess didn't count as a sport. Karate looked awesome but it was full, so instead he had to be on the wrestling team. Actually, he was pretty good at it to his own surprise.
He could still hardly stand wrestling though because Eric Cartman had also taken up this sport, and that was bad. Normally, a kid Cartman's size would be in the heavy weight class but since he was only kid in school who's weight ranged so high he had to wrestle with the middle weights. Middle weights like Kyle. Kyle had managed to avoid fighting Cartman for three weeks, but he knew he would have to eventually. He was too good at the sport, as was Cartman. Well actually Cartman wasn't that great, but he had two advantages that made him beat every other opponent. One was that he was so fat that if he pinned you, you had little hope of escaping his bulk. The second advantage was his ass. Cartman had a horrible technique of attacking ass-first, and most people couldn't take being so close to that ass. Some went so far as to run from the ring to avoid it. Those who did withstand the mere ass would soon discover Cartman's talent in flatulence, making pinning much easier for Cartman. He had a little trouble getting his opponent on the ground otherwise.
Kyle was too good not to be matched up with Cartman. He would hardly try and most of the kids would go down without a fight, though perhaps they were just worried about facing Cartman. Kyle couldn't say he was looking forward to the prospect himself.
That day Kyle had finished pinning Clyde to the matt without too much trouble and found Clyde giving an almost apologetic look as he got up and walked away. Kyle winced as he turned to his next opponent, afraid of why Clyde's face had looked like that. He was horrified to find his suspicion confirmed, as Cartman was the one looking at him with a smirk. The coach told Kyle it was time to face off his two star wrestlers. Kyle's stomach squirmed as he and Cartman faced each other. Both had been fighting for nearly half an hour and were perspiring heavily in their spandex.
"I've been waiting for this a long time," Cartman said, licking a drop of sweat off his lip and appearing to savour the salty taste "You're going down Jew."
Kyle fought a shiver at that word and felt two splotches of high colour come to his cheeks. He glared hard at his adversary.
"Let's just get this over with," Kyle growled low, furious eyes locked tightly with Cartman's malicious ones. At the teacher's signal, the two boys began to circle, slowly approaching. Suddenly, Cartman lunged forward apparently to try a fireman's toss or something of the like. Kyle managed to mess up his attempt by stepping to one side. Cartman stumbled over Kyle's foot and fell, an inch from the line.
"WHAT THE HELL JEW?! YOU TRIPPED ME! CHEATER!" Cartman yelled.
"I did not! My foot happened to be there, it's not my fault if you don't look!"
"Now Kyle, no cheating" the teacher said from the sidelines and Kyle rolled his eyes. The next round began and he went for Cartman, who had gotten to his feet again. This time Cartman grabbed his shoulders and Kyle was surprised to be driven to the edge of the ring. He dug in his heels and pushed back, managing to slow his assault drastically, but he knew he was close to the edge. Then Kyle got an idea. With a quick twist at the last minute he removed his counter weight and Cartman tumbled forward, out of the circle, landing on his face. He got up with rage etched in his features.
"CHEAP JEW TRICK!" he protested "He shouldn't get any points for that! The slippery Jew slipped away from me!"
"Kyle, no cheating, but you still get... two points. I think. How do you score in this sport anyway?" the teacher asked with a frown.
The two boys faced off for the final round. They stared each other down a long moment before the teacher came out of his space out daze and said "Begin". Kyle started to move forward, but Cartman decided it was time to get serious. He smirked, and turned. Kyle stopped dead.
That ass.
That horrible, large, fleshy, spandexed ASS. It was no wonder it had repelled the advances of every opponent to date. The only wonder was why Cartman hadn't used it against the Jewish boy earlier in the fight. Now it was down to this. Would Kyle collapse as the others had, faced with this mighty obstacle?
Kyle did of course have two advantages others did not. And those advantages were that Cartman was his lifelong adversary. This counted as two advantages because first of all, it meant that Kyle would be more determined than anyone to beat the fat boy. Secondly, it meant that Kyle had dealt with this ass before. Certainly not in spandex, but he had dealt with it. And as he had, he knew its strengths, and its weaknesses. He knew what the ass liked, and did not like. And he knew that after such experiences as being locked in an airplane cargo hold with a gassy Cartman and having Cartman repeatedly fart in his face over the years, he had built up an immunity to his flatulence. At least... he thought he had. He prayed he had.
He cringed as Cartman backed towards him, ass held at the ready. Kyle stumbled back, just a bit, but then decided he would hold on. He could not lose to Cartman of all people. The Jew held his ground.
"Oh, is the little Jew going to play hard ball then?" Cartman grunted, evidently trying to push out a fart. Kyle froze a moment, terrified. He could only put his faith in God now and believe that he had the will to stand against the pungent blast of wind. Kyle steeled himself as Cartman let one loose.
A big one.
An enormous one.
Never before had a fart been let with such intensity.
Kyle found himself blown backwards out of the ring and into the bleachers. He lay with the wind knocked out of him. But when he caught his breath the smell crept onto him and he could not help but pass out.
*****
"How're you feeling?" Stan tried to comfort his friend in his hospital bed.
"How Stan?" Kyle breathed in his respirator, as he had for the past ten days. He was to make a recovery, but his nasal passages would never be the same. "How could that ass have been so powerful?"
"I don't know," Stan replied, the same as every time Kyle had asked. "We've always said that his ass had powers we were not aware of."
Kyle shook his head. "Stan, how long have we known Cartman? How much time have we spent with him? How could we NOT know he was capable of... of that?"
Stan frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose.. "Kyle, please, stop doing this to yourself. You need to move on. Cartman's ass overpowered you, so what? It's done that to a lot of people. Why should you be immune?"
Kyle glared weakly. "There was something seriously wrong with that fart Stan."
"What do you mean? Like, he cheated? Used steroids or something?" Stan smiled a little, as if he thought Kyle was joking.
Kyle shook his head and coughed. "Not steroids Stan... apple juice."
Stan gasped, and stared wide eyed ."N-no. He wouldn't."
"Oh wouldn't I Stanley?" came a voice from the doorway. Both boys' eyes flashed to the dark, fat shadow that chuckled darkly.
"Cartman, you DID use apple juice! I knew it!' Kyle coughed again, harder, and Stan grabbed his best friend's hand in concern.
"So what if I did?" Cartman smirked "Check the rule book Kyle, nothing against using apple juice in wrestling. I didn't cheat," He strode over to the Jew who looked warily up at the dark brown eyes leering at him. Stan glared.
"Cartman, get out of here! You aren't helping Kyle's condition at all!" Stan snapped and tried to stand but Cartman pushed him back into his seat.
"Calm down pussy, I have as much a right to look at the lovely damage my wrestling awesomeness has done as you do," Cartman smirked and Kyle offered a pitiful look of anger. "How does it feel Kahl? How does it feel to know I beat you... fair and square?"
"That was NOT fair and square!" Kyle choked out.
Cartman shrugged. "Well, there's no rule against it, so I guess it was. And you know it, and always will. You lost to my ass out there. You lost to me out there Kyle. And you'll never forget it, will you?" he leaned close, holding back Stan to whisper in the Jew's ear, "You'll never get that smell off either."
Kyle gaped as Cartman drew back. Stan leapt his feet.
"GET OUT!" he shouted and punched Cartman in the arm as hard as he could manage. Cartman's eyes immediately welled with tears and he bawled, running from the room, shouting about how he was going to tell his mom on him or something.
"Don't let him get to you man," Stan said to his friend.
"I know," Kyle sighed and closed his eyes to rest.