(A.N) South Park isn't mine. It belongs to a Mr. Parker and a Mr. Stone.
Another sunny morning had risen over the quiet, snow-covered mountain town of South Park, Colorado. Today was a school day so the majority of the population under 18 were lingering about the only place of education in town, South Park Elementary. Currently it was recess, so the kids who were in attendance were either playing in the playground or walking and talking through the halls. Anyone who was anyone was out enjoying the few minutes of fun they had before they had to get back to "learning".
Except for one student who had decided to spend her recess in the school's computer lab.
Wendy Testaburger, fresh from her latest crusade against the next big social or political evil, was currently sat down on a chair staring at her computer screen. The image on her screen was of her own class photo. The picture smiled brightly to any who looked at it. If Wendy herself had been smiling, it would have almost been like looking in a mirror.
Wendy took a deep breath, exhaled and began to move her mouse.
She started to crack the mirror.
Outside the computer lab a boy was wandering absent-mindedly. When he noticed the one occupied chair in the otherwise empty computer lab, the boy's curiosity rose. Moving closer to the windows, he spotted a girl he knew all too well.
Unaware of her new observer, Wendy continued to alter her picture. She had already changed her hairstyle and shrunk her head a bit. She had even given herself an hourglass figure! Photoshop was surprisingly easy, even for those who hated it and wanted nothing to do with it. The pink-hatted girl, usually so tough and outspoken, felt tears threaten to fall as she moved on to giving her image makeup, her hand moving faster in an attempt to just get it done with.
The boy's eyes widened in shock as he witnessed what the poor girl was doing to herself. "Oh my Jesuschristmonkeyballs..."
By the time she was done, Wendy felt sick to her stomach. Her class photo now sported longer, wavy hair and a shorter beret. Its hips were wide and its waist tiny, its chest larger and its eyes and eyelashes bigger. It looked like a smoking hot bombshell. Sexy, flirty, amazing, flawless...
And nothing at all like nine-year-old crooked-teeth, pimples-on-her-forehead Wendy Testaburger.
The mouse feeling more and more like a weight, she clicked the send button which brought up the menu which would seal her fate.
"Mass Email File: 'My Pic'?"
Wendy moved her mouse cursor over the "Yes" and let it hover there, her finger resting on the left mouse button. Just a little push, and the photo would be out there. Her new, changed, destroyed-and-then-put-back-together class photo. A few tears broke through, falling down her cheeks as Wendy tried to will herself to click.
The observer shook his head, knowing it wouldn't do much. "No..." He knew what had to be done.
"No!"
With speed he didn't even know he had, the boy burst into the computer lab and headed straight for his target, knocking her down. Wendy fell to the ground, not expecting anyone to just push her like that. She had landed on her arm, it would definitely be bruised tomorrow. Feeling pissed off and forgetting that her face was now marked with tear lines, she looked up at whoever pushed her, ready to give them a piece of her mind. What she saw was a large blob wrapped in a red buttoned-up coat. A smaller blob was attached at the top. This smaller blob had eyes and a face, which were both wide open, and was topped by a light-blue hat with a yellow trim and matching poofball on the top.
Fortunately (or unfortunately), Wendy had seen this walking blob before. And she knew its name. "Cartman!?"
The walking blob of fat, who answered to the name Eric Cartman, was currently locked in a staring contest with the image on the computer screen. His face was plastered with a look of shock and disgust. "The fuck...?" he murmured, his voice barely audible in the quiet computer lab.
Having managed to raise herself to her feet, Wendy faced Cartman, still ready to chew him out for pushing her down. "What is wrong with you, Cartman?"
Her question went unheard by the boy and she didn't get to ask any more before he responded with his own. "The fuck is this?"
"Wha-"
"The fuck is this!?" Cartman shouted, turning to face the raven-haired girl while pointing at her screen. Slightly confused, yet still pissed, Wendy responded. "That's my class photo-"
"No it's fucking not!" the fat boy cut her off again with a shout. Wendy jumped at his sudden shout, feeling nervous despite having bested the large blob in a battle to the unconsciousness not a few months ago.
Said large blob was finding it hard to find words. A rarity for someone like him. "I... You... ARRGH!" he roared in anger. "You stupid ho!"
And like that, the nervousness flushed itself away in Wendy's mind as she remembered why exactly she hated this boy. "Goddamnit, Cartman. How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me a..." Before she could finish, she noticed Cartman's hands on her keyboard and mouse. "What the hell are you doing, fatass!?" she exclaimed, though her question again went unheard.
"'Do you want to save changes?'" the red-coated boy read to himself. "Fuck no!" he clicked the No and closed down the photoshop, also logging Wendy out for good measure.
Wendy's eyes widened as she witnessed what the fatass had just done. "Did you just log me out!?" she asked disbelievingly.
"You're welcome, hippie!" Cartman addressed the girl before turning to face her once again. "I can't fucking believe what I just saw. Wendy Testaburger using photoshop."
"Why do you care?" the pink-coated girl asked "You were all for ogling photoshopped pictures along with all the other boys!"
"This is different!"
"No it's not!"
"Is too!
"How so?"
"It's different because it's you!" Cartman found himself shouting. Wendy was not expecting that response and so she had nothing to say. A small silence fell which was quickly broken by Cartman. "Oh that reminds me. I left my iPhone at home. Can I borrow yours?"
"Huh?" Wendy spoke, confused by the sudden change of topic. "Why?" she had to ask.
"Because I think I need to call up Kenny and ask him if fucking HELL! Has FROZEN OVER!" the boy returned to shouting. "The great Wendy Testaburger bowing down to peer pressure!? What the fuck is wrong with you!?" he ranted.
Wendy Testaburger, confused as all hell as to why Eric Cartman was shouting at her for using photoshop, tried to respond. "Nothing is wrong with me..."
Cartman was not convinced. "Yes there is, ho! What happened to the Wendy I know?"
The black-haired girl folded her arms. "I'm standing right here, fatass."
"Nooooo, she's not." Cartman claimed. "I'm talking about the Wendy who kept going on and on and on about why photoshop is bad and why self-respect is good. The Wendy who kicked the shit out of me a few months ago because I wouldn't stop going on about tittie cancer. The Wendy who's always so passionate about her morals and who's so willing to spend precious minutes of her life bitching to people about this issue or the other, that she's on par with Kyle's Mom for the title of 'Biggest Bitch in South Park!"
Cartman gave himself a few seconds of silence before continuing. "That Wendy would never just give up and give in because people don't like her. So where has she gone, replaced by this imposter who would gladly edit her own class photo just so people would like her!?"
Despite the constant mockery laced throughout Cartman's speech, Wendy actually felt a little warm inside after hearing his words. "Cartman..."
The fat boy wasn't done, apparently. "Maybe it worked for all the other whores in the school, but who cares about them?"
And Wendy once again reminded herself that Eric Cartman was an asshole who cared for nobody. "Fuck you! They're my friends! I care about them!"
Cartman was unfazed. "Well I don't! If you ask me, I couldn't give two shits! Not about them!"
Wendy was completely ready to punch Cartman right in the face for disrespecting her friends when she noticed something odd about his insult. He only said "Not about them". "Them" obviously meant her friends. But he hadn't mentioned her there...
Wendy Testaburger briefly considered the possibility that maybe, just maybe, Eric Cartman wasn't an asshole who cared for nobody after all. "But..." she began "You give two shits... about me?"
That shut Cartman up, apparently, as he found himself unable to respond. They stood there for a small while, Cartman trying to avoid looking the girl opposite him in the eye, while Wendy felt her heart flutter as she reached a mental conclusion. Eric Cartman did care for at least one person in the school...
Finally managing to regain his voice, Cartman said "Whatever, ho." without any hate or malice present. "Just... Don't let me catch you doing that again, OK?" he asked as he turned around. "You had me worried, fucking hippie whore..."
With that, Cartman slowly walked towards the door, not noticing the growing smile on Wendy's face. He was almost at the door when he felt a pair of hands on his shoulders, stopping him. "What the-?" he spoke before he felt the shocking warmth of lips against his cheek. Speechless, he looked at Wendy, who was still smiling.
"Thank you, Eric." she said, using his first name. Wendy then walked past the frozen Cartman and out of the computer lab. Cartman watched her go, raising a hand to touch the spot on his cheek where Wendy had kissed him. Wendy had kissed him!
Eric Cartman smiled.
"Sweet!"