NOTE: In progress. Juicer parts soon to follow in a day or so.

Tell me what you like/don't like. I'd value you're opinion.

*This is an indirect sequel to Get Your Jew On! (Look it up in my archives)

In which Kyle, Stan and Kenny made love and Cartman with Butters on their school trip to Oregon. *

PLEASE REVIEW :O

Part 1: The Jew Remark

Sunday evening in South Park.

Stan and Kenny stood by watching as Cartman hauled in a big cardboard box, giving it a push down the stairs and into the basement.

The box hadn't lost shape. It fell to Kyle's feet and he stood looking down on it. –'It's a box.'

-'It's a big box.' Stan said halfheartedly.

-'Nooo, it's a box of possibilities.' Cartman sung, climbing down.

The basement was bathed in soft yellow light and the four of them had been solving Mr Mackey's 'murder' in their make-believe Park County police station. They wanted Kenny's mom to be the victim but Kenny broke into a cry and said he didn't want to play anymore.

-'Fine, Kenny. Don't be such a whining bitch.' Cartman said, loosening an oversized tie around his drooping neck. The boys decided to distance Kenny from the game because he drew women's breast instead of police sketches which he was supposed to be doing as a police sketch artist.

Cartman was made detective along with Stan, who was his deputy. Kyle sat through the game as a psychiatrist from Quantico, Virginia. He had his arms folded across his chest, making smug remarks and half-baked profiles.

They've been playing police station until Cartman disappeared upstairs and threw the box Mrs Cartman received after she ordered the new chrome deluxe shower for the upstairs master bathroom.

-'Get in that box, Kyle.' Cartman said, sliding down the wooden stairs.

-'Why me?' Kyle asked puckering a brow. He stood leaning against the washer and dryer smoothing the back of his flap-eared hat. He wore a long sleeved white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

-'Why do I have to be in a box?'

-'So we can play concentration camp.'

-'What?' Kyle uncrossed his arms in shock.

-'Hop in, Jew.' Cartman snapped his fingers, sliding off the detective jacket which was his Sunday church suit. He was slightly annoyed.

-'That's it! Fuck you, fatass!' Kyle yelled. –'Come on, Stan.'

-'Where, dude?' Stan asked, bothered. –'Cartman's mom's making French toast.'

-'We're playing Guitar Hero at my place.'

-'Didn't your dad snap it in half?' Stan reminded, frowning.

-'Come on, Stan.' Kyle hissed, heading towards the staircase. He pushed Cartman's shoulder roughly as he passed, hindering every now and then to make sure Stan was following.

Cartman pointed a finger up the stairs. –'Alright with me, Kyle! Don't let the door hit you on your way out. Come on, Kenny. Let's go watch Terrence and Phillip.'

Woohoo! Kenny said briskly. He was getting bored, anyway. And French toast!

Stan released a groan, reluctantly going after his best friend. Cartman's house smelled of freshly baked brownies and his mom was in the kitchen humming to the radio, checking on the French toast.

-'Not staying for munchies, Stanley?'

-'No, Mrs Cartman. I have to go.' Stan said.

The snow had settled; the clouds gathering created a halo of curious peace. It was going to snow again by midnight. The mountains were veiled in thin fog.

He found Kyle walking down the street slowly, his hands tucked in the warm pockets of his only winter jacket. His figure reflected off the street lights, his shadow seeping at his feet. There wasn't a car in sight.

Stan ran until he could touch him. –'Are you okay, Kyle?'

-'Hot head. What's that?'

-'Cartman's mom.' Stan said, holding a piece of chocolate brownie on his palm until Kyle shook off the pocket and took it. –'Bad timing, dude.'

Kyle shoved the brownie in his mouth and sunk his teeth into the warmth. He felt chocolate chip and walnuts and chewed until he could talk consistently. Then he said; -'Someone should kick the crap out of Cartman's fat ass.'

-'Round up the synagogue.' Stan said through a smile, pushing Kyle's side gently.

-'Yeah. Hah.' Give me more.' Kyle looked at Stan, who shook his head.

-'All gone, guy.'

-'You couldn't have taken more?' He asked awkwardly.

-'Small hands.' Stan said showing his red gloves. –'Plus, I kinda thought I'd convince you to go back for more with me.'

-'And tolerate Cartman's rips? No, thank you.'

Further along the street, Kyle slowed down. He caught a glimpse of Craig standing behind a navy blue Honda. He was twisting his wallet out of boredom and didn't notice the two of them approaching from the street.

-'Craig?'

Craig looked up. He didn't look pleased with the invasion. –'Yeah?'

-'You heading home?' Stan asked.

-'No.' He replied with a tone. –'I'm waiting for Tweek. We were supposed to meet five minutes ago.'

-'Where you going?' Kyle asked. Craig sucked in air through his teeth, pulling out a crumpled piece of pink paper from out his blue coat. Under it, he seemed well dressed. More flashy and there was a strong smell of body spray, probably from his dad's side of the sink.

The pink paper was a flyer from a dance club. It was black print with a busty woman in a dancing pose and beneath her high heels it said Party on Two Floors! and Martini Bargain. The name of the place was Club Diamond.

Craig's eyes skirted the surrounding houses while Stan and Kyle read the pamphlet.

He resembled a salesman wasting time while the customers looked around.

-'What, like Raisins?' Kyle asked eventually, maneuvering the paper nearer to Stan in case he wasn't done reading.

-'No, it's a night club. It's in Denver.' Craig said by design.

-'Denver? What are you telling your parents?' Stan asked curiously.

-'That I'm staying over at Tweek's. And Tweek's doing the same with me.'

-'But it's school night.'

-'I told my mom I have Mr Garrison riding my ass on a project.'

-'You told her that?'

Craig nodded. –'Emigration problem in China. She just said yes. I left the books in the school locker.'

-'That's smart, dude.' Kyle complimented, clearly awed.

-'Yeah…' Stan said gradually.

Tweek wrenched from across the street, nearing them. Craig waved for him to notice and Tweek shook as if startled by a ghost. He hugged himself, urging forward and almost breaking into a run.

-'We're paying some guys $40 to take us to Denver and we'll take the morning bus home.'

Part 2: Craig and Tweek are Cool

Kyle gave his school locker a slam; exposing Stan's uneasy face as soon as he turned away. –'I haven't slept all night.' He said.

-'Yeah, I know. We neither.' Kyle retorted, carrying his books under an arm.

It was lunch break and they avoided the canteen so they could discuss in privacy. Kyle successfully ignored Cartman and Cartman in return, looked more annoyed.

Craig and Tweek were accompanied by a crowd wherever they headed, opting to retell every new face about their night out. Craig's face was sallow and pale, dark rings formed under his eyes. Tweek had green glitter on the bridge of his nose he was constantly aware of, trying to shake it off and rub it clean with a paper towel.

Butter's continually showed admiration and nervousness. Cartman didn't see what the big deal was and he pushed Kenny out of the way whenever they were in hearing range of some new impressed commentator or another girl fourth grader who thought Craig seemed cuter now that he was a daredevil.

Kyle and Stan caught Craig talking to Clyde in the boys restrooms.

-'It's a rule whenever you hear Sexyback playing; the girls must take their shirts off and dance.'

-'What's a Sexyback?'

When the door flapped shut, Kyle let cold water run in the sink. –'That's it, Stan. We need to ask Craig to take us with him next time they go.'

-'I don't know, dude. Denver.'

Kyle smacked the edge of the washers, face flushed. –'I can't take it anymore, Stan! I need to go. I hear Craig talking about it and I realize I could have been there, that could have been me dancing on the stage, buying drinks!'

-'You really believe it's as great as Craig and Tweek say?'

-'I have to, Stan. Don't you see?' Kyle said, grabbing Stan by the upper arms. His eyes were glistening.

Cartman entered the restrooms, the pale blue hat taken off his head. He held it clenched in his hand. –'Oh, good. You're here. I need you to come to my place after school. That's A.S.A.P.'

Part 3: Cartman Does His Magic

Kyle arrived late. He needed to wait while his dad ransacked coat pockets for a dollar in quarters for the arcades.

In the basement of his house, Cartman had pulled up folding chairs and sheets of drawing paper on wooden holders. He saw some of his classmates; Clyde, Butters, Kenny, Token and Jimmy sitting and staring at Cartman to start talking. Stan saved a seat for him in the back and Kyle sat down quickly, realizing that he was the thing causing the hold up.

-'Fine, now that the Jew's here, we can get started.'

Cartman tore a sheet of paper from the wooden frame mounted in the middle of the basement, revealing a well-elaborated plan only a person of Cartman's lying range could muster.

-'It's Friday night and you have your meeting of Young Christians for Life. The theme is Camping by the fire with Jesus by your side.' He looked at Butters. –'Butters, hand out the parent flyers.'

-'Why, sure thing Eric!' Butters got to his feet and scrambled for the stack of white-on-black flyers informing the parents that the meeting was fundamental. Butters loved handing out flyers.

-'Wow, Cartman's sure through.' Token whispered to Clyde.

-'You'd be too, Token, if you had to lie your way out of as much crappy deals as me.'

Cartman said, heaving a sigh and overdoing it by looking into the distance at nothing in particular, hands clasped behind his back.

Kyle watched Stan taking the flyer from Butters. –'What about me, fatass?' He asked angrily. Cartman pulled out two balloons from his pocket and held each in one hand.

-'What's that?' Kyle asked.

-'You blow them up, Broflovski, and put them under the blanket.'

-'What?'

-'So your parents can think you're sleeping.'

-'That's so stupid! You're doing this on purpose.' Kyle said, throwing himself back against the chair. Everybody shot a glance towards him. Cartman put the balloons down, turning to the plan layout. -'You should have thought of that before you rejected Jesus.

-'Okay, where were we…?' He snapped his fingers, remembering. –'It's against the law for minors to be on the streets after eleven. That's why we're not minors.'

-'We're n-not?' Jimmy repeated. Everybody looked confused.

-'No, Jimmy. We're a group of European midgets.' Cartman said, taking out a plastered cookie box. The basement was filled with murmur and a single laugh-out-loud from Kyle. Cartman continued.

-'You will each get your own false ID and a declaration on German saying that you were born a midget. And if someone calls you a midget you tell them it's little people. I don't know why, but that works.'

-'And how will you get us to Denver, brainiac?' Kyle asked.

-'For $40 some guys are gonna drop us off. Sounds good to you, Daywalker?'

-'Cartman!'

-'No, you had this one coming.' Stan said, patting him on the chest.

Friday 7 p.m. Stan got dressed in front of the bathroom mirror. He put on a Terrence & Phillip t-shirt and pulled the brown coat over it. He slicked his hair with some hair gel and pulled the red poofball hat on with care.

Stuffing the back pocket of his wash pants with paper bills he had been saving up for some while, he continued downstairs. In the living room Sharon Marsh was watching a talk show on TV, waiting for a movie with a bowl of popcorn in her lap.

-'Where's dad?' Stan asked.

-'In the basement playing with his model car.' She replied with a tight face, before looking at him up and down. –'You're going like that?'

-'I don't wanna overdo it. It's just camping.'

-'Where are your things?'

-'I already left them at Kyle's, mom.'

Sharon looked away from the TV. –'Kyle's? The Broflovskis?'

Stan shook his head in realization. Shit! –'I mean Kenny's. I said Kyle's automatically because he's my best friend.'

-'Alright, Stanny. I know church's isn't all that fun, but try to have a good time.'

-'Okay, bye.'

Exiting the house, Stan rolled his eyes in relief. Thank God for Cartman, he thought and instantly felt a spark of discomfort.

Kyle left Ike in the kitchen and hurried up the stairs.

-'I'm going to bed!' He said loud enough for his father to turn down the volume on the television.

When he closed the door to his bedroom, he was bathed in darkness. The light shone from street lamps onto his bed. He took out the two balloons slowly from his pocket, sighing heavily in defeat. He blew them up and shaped them under the blanket so it would resemble a human figure. As he did so, he felt the throbbing of Cartman's eyes against the back of his head. Kyle emitted a drained look, patting the pillow into shape.

Stan threw a snowball at his window. Kyle showed his head, signaling for him to cease fire. Stan withdrew on the curb, hands down. He watched his best friend sliding down the drain pipe with much difficulty.

They walked alongside, the intoxicating smell of Stan's neck hanging back in the freezing ether. –'Dude, are you wearing cologne?' Kyle asked, twisting his head.

-'A midget can smell good.' Stan replied and both snuck a smile.

Part 4: Club Diamond

The night club in Denver was by far one of the awesomest places a person could be on a Friday night.

The music was loud, drinks cheap, lights subdued. Crowded, yes, but definitely kick-ass. It was a double-room dance floor with glittered walls and slick polished black tiles, and the DJs were boxed up and zoned out. People bobbed their heads to the music, jumping up and down to the chorus.

Something about the tall forest of drunken strangers made Butters feel jumpy. Not like Tweek, though. Tweek, who stood by the entrance shaking off the tremors. Even he looked nice. His blond hair was glossy with gel and slinging in uneven slices away from the base of his skull. He wore jeans and a shirt his mom buttoned fast.

Butters grabbed Kenny by the hand, and Kenny turned his head at him.

-'Kenny I think we should stay close. We'll get lost if we spread out.' He said in a shaky voice. Cartman pushed them apart, heading for the bar. –'Fuck this! Let's spread, you guys. Mingle.'

Kenny lowered his flaxen eyebrows. He took Butter's hand into his and pulled him closer so that Butter's hand looped under his boney elbow.

Stan and Kyle stood at the entrance until a couple shoved them aside roughly. Kyle cursed them but his voice came out muffled and inaudible against the foreground noise. Token, Craig and Clyde stood in a circle just outside the doors, smoking a cigarette and passing it between themselves. Tweek was clutching the corner of the wall, nose pressing against the rough veneer.

Kyle grunted. Looking over at Kenny and Butters holding him by the arm, he turned to Stan. –'Stay close, Stan. I wouldn't wanna get lost here.'

-'It's easier said then done.'

Cartman hung low by the bar, pressing the vodka shot to his lips whenever he saw his friends staring. Token went dancing after drinking two tequila twists and even he staggered to get on the dance floor.

He saw Kenny and Butters sitting on the elevated bars lining the black wall, Butters looking around with interest while Kenny stared at a group of girls with low cut dresses. Butters clung to Kenny's elbow like a keychain.

Seeing Kyle nearing, Cartman pressed the shot to his lips pretending to take a swig. Kyle drew his hands against the metal edge, standing next to Cartman but keeping his eyes focused on Stan, who stood with his back pressed against a corner by the entrance, looking around.

-'Oh, hey. Kyle.' Cartman said, lowering the shot glass once more. Kyle granted him a distracted glance. –'Lay off the sauce, Cartman.' He said, staring skeptically at the neon sign hung above the bar. Two bartenders attended to raised hands. The bar and everything surrounding it was crowded to the maximum. Kyle had a hard time ignoring the random bumps in the chest or a sizzling sting from a cigarette stub.

Cartman twisted his lips downwards. –'Sure thing, Kyle. Whatever you say.'

-'Not whatever I say. Just do it.'

-'Look I'm not leaving this place without a hangover.' Cartman said pleasantly. –'Mine has to be stronger then Clyde's.'

-'What the hell are you talking about?' Kyle yelled against the noise.

-'Fuck off, Jew. Did you come here to stalk me?'

-'No, I came here to tell you not to get drunk.'

-'What's it to you, Kyle?'

Kyle bit his lip. -'You know what? Suit yourself. I'm not drinking. You should do the same, if you know what's good for you.'

-'Well what the hell does that mean?'

-'You know what it means, fatass.' Kyle replied sharply, diverting Cartman's attention to Kenny and Butters. Butters caught them staring and he smiled widely and waved.

Cartman's face hardened. –'If you tell anyone about that, I'm going to execute you.'

-'What?' Kyle frowned. Cartman jerked him by the jacket, pulling him closer.

-'I said I'm going to kill you, you dreidl-spinner.'

Kyle grabbed Cartman's hands wrapping around his jacket, sinking his fingernails into Cartman's thick skin. Cartman's eyes shrunk. –'Kyle...'

Kyle pressed deeper, tearing crescent pink marks on Cartman's fatty fists.

-'Take your hands off me, you fat fuck.'

-'Unhand me, bitch.'

Stan stared at the two of them, standing by the bar in the sea of drinkers with their faces rigid, red and glistening in sweat running down their skin, foreheads almost knocking together, Cartman twisting Kyle's jacket tightly and Kyle sinking his fingernails into Cartman's clenched fists; waiting for the other one to back off.

Cartman spraying insults. Kyle trying to keep up.

-'Stop pinching me, you fucking ginger.'

-'Don't call me ginger.' Kyle said through his teeth.

-'What's the matter, ginger? Got sand in your vagina?'

-'Better sand in my vagina then Butters on my dick.'

Kyle said, directing the blow and hitting the target.

Cartman cracked. It was the equivalent of having broken a chair on his head when his back was turned.

Stan spread his elbows against their chests, pushing them back. There was still shock in Cartman's beady eyes. Kyle couldn't believe the words sliding out of his mouth. Stan said pleadingly; -'You guys stop fighting. They're gonna kick us out.'

Cartman fell silent. He didn't even dab for his vodka shot, leaving it there for the bartender to collect. He withdrew into the crowd and disappeared towards the dance floors, his fists scarred with the throbbing dents of Kyle's nails. It was a pathetic sight and Kyle didn't want to win that way.

-'What the hell was that about?' Stan asked when they had gone out. The air was fresh, the club filled to the total. The gates were closed, a pair of simian guards slacking on their jobs.

Kyle passed the boys smoking, and Craig shot him a look under the eye.

Kyle pushed a beer bottle out of the way and sat down on the concrete stairs, folding his arms over his head with knees spread. Stan brushed Kyle's arm, slowly sitting down next to him.

The sky was starless and thick with billows. They sat across three concrete stairs leading nowhere. Few people walked out on the cold to smoke a cigarette in some peace or hear the other person talking on the phone.

Kyle's hand squeezed Stan's securely and they sat inertly without saying a word, hands held together where nobody could see them.