Wendy, straight-A student, feminist, and above all a good girl found herself staring dumbly at the little pink + sign on a piss-stick pregnancy test. "No." She whispered hoarsely. "No fucking way." It was the fourth test she'd taken, and the fourth to come back positive. She was royally screwed. Pregnant at sixteen.

Bebe was the first one she called, and after they'd exchanged words of disbelief, she called the father. Eric Cartman. It was his fault. He was the one who'd gotten her knocked up that night at the meteor shower party. She'd had a little too much to drink. He'd taken advantage of her! She told herself these things, knowing that they were not true. If anything he'd been drunker than she was, and she had initiated the sweaty makeout session that would end in frantic, wonderful lovemaking. She'd walked home with a smile on her face. So much for getting "lucky".

"You are fucking kidding me." Cartman said over the phone. "That's very funny, Wendy. Hahaha. You got me."

"You are the father jackass. What the hell are we going to do?" She sniffed.

"Well, there's this little thing called an abortion and-"

"I'm not getting a fucking abortion!"

"Well, then you leave me no choice but to insist that you raise it on your own."

"Grow a fucking backbone. It's your responsibility too."

"Jesus fucking Christ... you're killing me, Wendy. What am I supposed to do about it."

"Marry me."

"What!"

"You heard me."

"Hey, bitch! I can't do that! You can't make me! I'm sixteen years old!"

Wendy's voice shook with tears. "Well, so am I, Cartman. I'm scared as hell, and I don't know what to do. Maybe you should have thought of that before you got me pregnant. Because, I can't do this alone."

There was a long silence. "Wendy, are you at home?"

"Yes."

"Well, stay there. I'm coming over. We can talk about this face to face."

Tears slid over Wendy's pale cheeks and make dark spots on her winter coat. "Thank you, Eric."

They told Mrs. Cartman first. Rather than flying into a rage she seemed, if anything, pleased that her son had found such a nice girl. It wasn't that surprising now. Eric had spent the summer before his freshman year literally working his butt off to lose some weight. He was a pretty good looking guy now. Wendy's parents were not such an easy matter. There was much yelling and many tears were shed, but in the end everything worked out fine... oh, wait. That's not what happened at all. Actually, Wendy was kicked out of the house and had to stay at Cartman's house.

Mrs. Cartman didn't seem to mind. She treated Wendy with a maternal sweetness the dishonored girl craved. "Don't you kids worry about anything! Everything will work out fine!" She was ever optimistic.

They did their homework that night silently on Cartman's bed, munching on chocolate-chip cookies like they were just normal kids. They fell asleep spooning. Breakfast was delicious and filling. Wendy could see how easily one could gain weight on Mrs. Cartman's cooking. Eric was uncharacteristically quiet on the way to school. Wendy wondered if he was having second thoughts about her. She wanted to cry, but found she was emotionally too drained to summon tears.

Then, he draped an arm around her and planted a kiss on her cheek. "It'll be okay. If anyone gives you shit I'll kick them in the balls." His voice was so serious and sincere she could have laughed and cried at once. She snuggled deeper into his arms. For a moment she was not afraid.

It didn't take long for the news to get out once Wendy started to put on weight. She was often emotional, tired, and always felt dizzy. Mrs. Cartman explained all of these symptoms to the young couple just so they wouldn't worry themselves to death. Wendy hated the weight of the stares she got, but it felt good to have Eric to defend her from whispered comments.

"Eh, at least she is pretty enough to get laid, bitch. You'll die a virgin." He told one especially gleeful freshman girl. That shut her up quickly enough.

They married in a private ceremony. Cartman seemed to find infinite pleasure in calling her his wife. "Hands off my wife, faggot!" "That's my wife you're talking about you ugly horse faced bitch!". Every time he said "wife" it brought a smile to Wendy's face. Who would have thought she'd be so glad to be a part of the institution of marriage.

"Hello, Husband." She whispered one morning. Cartman rolled over to face his wife, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. "How about getting a little biblical?" Wendy said, a devilish smile upon her lips. And who was Cartman to refuse such an invitation? They made love softly, just to be safe, but it was the slow poetic sex of legends. They ate breakfast feeling very much awake. Mrs. Cartman wore a knowing smile as they left for school.

The pregnancy was an easy one, but when the time came for delivery, Wendy panicked. She refused painkillers at first, but relented when it became painful. Hours of screams later, Wendy was holding up a beautiful little boy.

"Can I touch him?" Eric Cartman whispered. There were tears in his eyes, but he didn't seem aware of them, and if he was he simply didn't care.

"Say hello to your daddy, baby." Wendy cooed.

"He's so beautiful." Cartman's voice caught. "He's really ours."

"I sure hope so, after what I just went through." Wendy snorted. "I think he's got your eyes."

"Yeah. I hope he's got your figure." Eric Cartman had turned into a man overnight. Seeing that little creature, all covered in gore he couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. "He's one hell of a kid. I'll bet he'll be kicking ass in no time." He felt the child's tiny hand. "Wont you kid?"