A/N: Here we are, the second chapter! Not much to say, I think, besides that it's pretty long... Enjoy! Also, tumblr user artishtic drew some wonderful art of the characters based on the ballroom scene in the last chapter! Go check it out, it's awesome!
Chapter 2 – Mr. Cartman's Visit, Which Brings With It Music And Foolishness
Kyle informed his mother that the family should expect a visitor in the near future, and Mrs. Broflovski wasted little time in tidying the home herself, in addition to forcing the men of the household to do so as well. Ike quickly regretted his having helped Kyle become acquainted with Mr. Cartman when, after two weeks of keeping the house absolutely clean (Mrs. Broflovski refused to have her guests unearth even a speck of dust during their stay) the man never made an appearance and their work seemed to be all for naught. And while Mrs. Broflovski's resolve to maintain a cleanly home was lessening gradually with each day, Kyle found himself more curious by the minute, becoming increasingly concerned with the quality of Mr. Cartman's character, and the extent to which he had been concealing his true disposition while at the earlier ball.
And as Kyle's curiosity was fomented by the man's absence, so was his worry upon remembering the vital connections which he would find impossible to make without Mr. Cartman's assistance. The idea of relying upon Mr. Cartman, while it was not one which Kyle found appealing, was necessary to take into consideration when deciding how to present himself around the wealthy man. Were he to offend, in any way, there was a significant possibility of his current opportunities disappearing, and being swiftly replaced with a certain amount of slander against his name.
Kyle began to spend a large portion of his time sketching enormous mansions, in the style of Mr. Garrison's recent work, which he often left unfinished, and whose cost he estimated to be approaching 50,000 pounds. However rich Mr. Cartman truly was, he would think distantly, the likelihood of his having 50,000 pounds to toss gleefully at a fickle architectural project was quite small. Yet Kyle continued his designs, and began adding more decorative aspects to each, which would raise their cost to an unimaginable sum.
It was while Kyle was drawing such an estate, in midafternoon, and approximately one week after Mrs. Broflovski's need for total cleanliness had subsided, that Mr. Broflovski, in a voice filled with sudden anxiety, called his son to the front door. Upon doing as his father requested, Kyle found himself facing the familiar heavy brunet he had met at the ball, who still wore his mischievous smirk, as if it had never left his face. Surrounding him were his fair-haired cohorts.
"It seems that Mr. Cartman has answered your invitation," Mr. Broflovski proclaimed, sounding simultaneously thrilled by the presence of such a rich man at his doorstop and horrified by the prospect of having to meet the needs and expectations of all three odd-looking characters. "How wonderful for us to be host to such respectable guests!"
"Yes, I cannot begin to imagine how excited you must be!" Mr. Cartman declared. As his eyes left Mr. Broflovski's face and fixed themselves upon Kyle's, the two orbs lit up in an expression of happy anticipation. Mr. McCormick and Mr. Stotch remained silent, although Mr. Stotch, still very eager to please both his companions and his hosts, performed a small bow of gratitude. Kyle could not keep himself from looking slightly displeased, as he had been expecting a quiet evening away from company, and was hoping that he might spend his time alone, consumed by his sketches. He attempted, but was unable, to change this expression into one of a more welcoming variety. And yet, he found that his unhappiness need not be hidden in order to accommodate his visitor; the sight of Kyle's frown only added to the length of Mr. Cartman's pleased grin.
Mr. Broflovski had, by this time, taken his leave to inform Mrs. Broflovski of the sudden increase in dinner guests; thus, a short, angry cry could be heard from the kitchen, where the woman, who had been taken entirely by surprise at this announcement, hurried to engage every hand she could in the preparation of their meal. Kyle therefore thought it wise to lead Mr. Cartman away from the dining room, and showed the motley trio to the family's drawing room, instead. Mr. Cartman followed Kyle's lead, with a small bounce in each of his steps, and was quite obviously pleased with the small amount of chaos he had thus far been able to incur. Mr. McCormick surveyed the house with the utmost care, steering clear of larger objects and wall decorations, particularly those that appeared especially heavy or sharp. Mr. Stotch repeatedly smoothed his hair, which continued to defy him, and held his hands clasped nervously in front of him.
Upon their arrival into the drawing room, Mr. Cartman suddenly cried out, and pushed past Kyle to inspect the worn piano which lay across the far wall. Mr. McCormick rolled his eyes, yet did not hesitate to walk towards the chair which was in the middle of the room, in an arrangement which included two more chairs and a sofa, and was centered around a small table. He sat down in the chair without an invitation, removed his hat, and placed it on the floor. As Kyle was about to make an attempt at conversation, or perhaps protest his guests' impolite attitudes, Mr. Stotch approached him.
"Excuse me, Mr. Broflovski, but would it be alright for me to make use of your furniture?" Obviously the man had great trouble articulating himself around strangers, and so Kyle refrained from reprimanding the trio and instead led Mr. Stotch graciously to the sofa, where he, too, found a seat.
"Who plays?" Mr. Cartman suddenly called out. Kyle turned to see the man running his fingers upon the wood of the piano, which was rough and in places likely chipped. Kyle was tempted to approach and ensure that Mr. Cartman did no harm, as he seemed the sort of man who had little concern for the property of others. But Mr. Cartman handled the instrument with care, and discovered the keys with little trouble.
"I play but a little," Kyle admitted, wary of being forced to perform a song which was far above his skill level, "as do my mother and father. My younger brother, however, finds the piano a fine source of amusement, and often plays to entertain himself."
"I see, 'amusement', only," Mr. Cartman repeated, his voice edged with a sneer. Kyle was surprised by the slight hostility which the man now exhibited. "And does he not have respect for music in a different sense?" Mr. Cartman brushed off the piano seat, and placed himself upon it, his fingers poised carefully above the yellowed keys. He suddenly looked much more like a gentleman.
"I do not believe he has practiced with artistry in mind," Kyle said, now curious towards Mr. Cartman's apparent expertise in music.
"Hm." Mr. Cartman seemed to consider this shortly before playing a single note. "Nonetheless, I should like to hear him play." He then stared at Kyle, apparently expecting him to fetch Ike and force the boy to perform.
"I do not think he would enjoy performing for an audience," Kyle said, willing himself to speak less sharply than before. Mr. Cartman smirked, yet again.
"But, Mr. Broflovski, there are so few other sources of 'amusement' here, that I think you would be doing your guests a great disservice if you were to deprive them of music as well." Mr. Cartman's eyes shined, and although Kyle understood that the man took enormous pleasure from tormenting him, he could not resist glaring and otherwise expressing his annoyance.
"I shall retrieve him from his room, then," Kyle spat, standing suddenly, "as, if this would satisfy Mr. Cartman, then quite clearly the rest of us have nothing to be upset about!"
Immediately upon ascending the stairs and stopping outside of Ike's room, Kyle cursed himself for letting his temper get the best of him. However, on another level, he admitted that, were he to succeed in his efforts to befriend the exasperating Mr. Cartman, he would likely find himself expressing his rage indiscriminately on a more frequent schedule. It was to his advantage to become acclimated to the man's brash nature now, then. Kyle rapped his knuckles upon Ike's bedroom door.
"Ike," he called, "we have visitors."
His brother's head appeared quickly as the door was pulled aside. Ike wore a small smirk, which, thanks to Mr. Cartman's similar expressions, angered Kyle far more than it should have.
"Your employer has finally arrived? I must say, I am surprised!"
"Yes, yes, but do not remain surprised for long, as he has requested that you perform for him on the piano. Oh, Ike, do not look too excited, or Mr. Cartman shall believe you are actually eager to play."
Ike's smirk had quickly dissolved as the news of this request reached his ears. In its place was a wrinkled nose, a telling sign of his distaste towards the situation. Kyle, having already dealt with Mr. Cartman's smart mouth, reached out and grabbed Ike's wrist, determined to lead him to the drawing room despite any protests. However, his younger brother predictably struggled.
"I am not an animal who only plays piano for the amusement of your company," Ike declared defiantly, "but I may be willing to act as one if you should provide me with ample compensation."
"I can ensure payment only if I secure a position of trust with Mr. Cartman," Kyle said, "and while it appears he may want me for company again at a later date, I do not think my skills as an architect are currently being taken into account." Kyle thought of Mr. Cartman's gleaming eyes at his reactions to being even slightly prodded by the man's teasing words. "I have never met a man I so want to impress. And if you should help me in this endeavor, I shall certainly repay you. In twice the amount you expect, I am sure."
Ike scrutinized him, to determine how well he could trust his brother's word.
"Then I will aid you," he said. "But you should consider a reward of three times what I expect, and you should consider that my expectations are quite high." Kyle smiled weakly, but led his brother to the drawing room without another word.
As they entered, Mr. McCormick paid them no mind, likely because he had covered his face with his hat and looked to be asleep. Mr. Stotch waved timidly and smiled.
"Ah," Mr. Cartman exclaimed, upon catching sight of Ike, "you are the brother. Sit." His demands startled Ike, who had approached Mr. Cartman with his hand extended. Kyle was slightly confused at this display as well, as Mr. Cartman had acted much more interested in making his acquaintance at the ball so many weeks ago. It was, Kyle thought, as he watched Mr. Cartman once again eye the piano, perhaps because Mr. Cartman was too involved with his music to bother with a proper introduction.
Ike, with a look over his shoulder at his brother, complied, and seated himself carefully before smiling up at Mr. Cartman, who had stood and had taken a spot to the side and still had a hand on the top of the piano.
"I know a good few songs, although I would like to know your preference."
Mr. Cartman waved his hand dismissively at the boy.
"No, begin playing. I am merely looking for a way to approximate your skill."
Ah! But these words were Ike's bane, and although Kyle had been assured that a short, enjoyable song would be played, the beginning notes of a more challenging piece, one which Ike had only begun to practice a week before, were plunked out on the piano as Ike attempted to prove himself.
It took less than a minute for Mr. Cartman to sigh and say, "stop, stop," while swatting Ike's hands from the keys. Ike now looked cross, having been treated horribly from the moment he entered the drawing room.
"Dear god, Kyle, your brother has not even bothered with a certain tone for this piece; he merely hits the keys and hopes for a melody to come out!" Mr. Cartman laughed bitterly, and motioned for Ike to stand. Shocked and thoroughly insulted, Ike huffed and disappeared from the room. Kyle, meanwhile, was still standing, paralyzed by Mr. Cartman's rudeness towards his sibling as well as his sudden use of Kyle's first name.
"I believe you have violated a social convention of the upper-class, Mr. Cartman," Mr. McCormick said, hat still over his face. He waggled his finger in the air, mocking the gesture commonly used while reprimanding a young child. "It is considered vastly impolite to speak to your casual acquaintances using such an intimate address as their given name."
"Oh! But how tired I am," Mr. Cartman bewailed, seating himself at the piano, "of the polite!"
Kyle remained stunned by this display, while Mr. Stotch looked embarrassed for everyone; Kyle was about to speak (what he did not know) but was silenced by Mr. Cartman suddenly playing a song himself, the very same that Ike had attempted only a moment before.
"John Fields' Nocturne number three, A-flat major." Mr. Cartman spoke smoothly over the clear sound coming through the instrument. "It should not be played so loudly, or so determinedly as your brother had approached it, Mr. Broflovski." Kyle wandered towards the piano, finding himself wholly impressed by Mr. Cartman's display. He took up a spot next to the piano, watching the man's hands dance across the keys with a certain kind of gentle accuracy. "It is a bit soft, and I have always played it as such. It brings a picture to the forefront of one's mind, does it not?" Still playing, Mr. Cartman turned to grin at Kyle. "The tune tries to stay graceful, but often sounds strained. As if it were someone who is trying their very, very best to remain composed. And while the calm veil may seem adequate to the man himself—onlookers can see through it quite easily."
This statement, full of bad manners, was the last such sentence Kyle would tolerate. He turned without another word to Mr. Cartman and forced his legs to carry him from the room, lest he make a terrible mistake and lose any chance at maintaining Mr. Cartman's friendship. As he walked away, face burning red, he heard the nocturne continue, and then there was one more call from Mr. Cartman:
"This piano needs tuning!"
...
Mr. Cartman's bad manners remained flawlessly intact while the family and their guests dined; his comments caused Kyle significant discomfort throughout the entire affair, for if they were not inappropriate, Mr. Cartman's words were always irritating.
Yet the odd trio did not request lodging at the Broflovski estate, for which the entire family was glad, and they readied themselves to leave almost immediately after the meal was through. Kyle felt guilty over his having been the one to invite such a loathsome bunch, and even more so when his mother retreated to her room early even before she finished her plate. So, he alone took the initiative to lead his guests to the door and see them off.
"My hat," Mr. McCormick said suddenly, after the four of them were poised at the entrance, and were about to make their exit. "I have left it in the drawing room; if you'll excuse me." That said, he pushed past Kyle to retrieve his possession, and Mr. Cartman's eyes flashed before he sharply prodded Mr. Stotch in the back.
"Accompany him," Mr. Cartman said, "for, with his luck, he'll likely forget the way back and end up delaying us atrociously, or else return bearing a new wound." Mr. Stotch wasted little time in nodding, although by now his anxiety had calmed, and as he submitted to Mr. Cartman's will, it appeared to be more out of habit than fear. With both blondes occupied elsewhere, Kyle was left alone to speak tête-à-tête to Mr. Cartman, and while he decided to remain silent, his company was not willing to. Kyle realized that Mr. Cartman had sent Mr. Stotch away in order to hold a private audience with him.
"Am I to assume you are still in pursuit of an architectural position at my hand?" Mr. Cartman spoke with ease and smiled good-naturedly, as though his presence had not caused Kyle enormous amounts of stress and anger for the past several hours. Kyle thought suddenly that the man, while rich and wildly uncouth, was still very much an enigma to him, and that Kyle had learned very little about him in the time they had spent together. Additionally, Kyle did not believe he had earned the man's respect.
"I have absolutely no reference for your abilities," Mr. Cartman continued cheerfully, "yet I have enjoyed myself in your company, thus far. And would be willing to work around a certain amount of failure on your part, if you are prone to it."
"I am," Kyle said, very quickly, "that is, I am still interested in assisting you with your project. I intend to still do so." He was undeniably confused, with what he believed was good reason; Mr. Cartman was not blind to the pain he had caused his hosts tonight. But he acted as though he and Kyle had formed a bond throughout the visit. And, perhaps they had, but a different sort of bond than Kyle had wanted or expected.
"I am glad," Mr. Cartman said. He appeared to be making a great effort to maintain eye contact with Kyle, which was not difficult, as Kyle remained curious as to the man's inner workings, and so they continued to gaze at each other, until both were startled by a loud crash that came from the drawing room.
Mr. Cartman set his jaw and, with an angry stomp, stormed into the room, with Kyle at his tail, to find his two friends standing frozen beside a broken vase. Mr. McCormick's reflexes returned to him first, and he immediately lifted his hand to point accusingly at Mr. Stotch.
"My d-deepest, deepest apologies," Mr. Stotch said, stuttering often, his stare shifting between Kyle and Mr. Cartman. "Although, it seems that there is a f-false accusation at hand, as, s-sorry, Mr. McCormick, but you were indeed—"
"Be quiet," Mr. Cartman snapped. Mr. Stotch did as he was told, and Mr. McCormick rolled his eyes slightly as he placed his hat back upon his head. Kyle steamed besides them. First, their rudeness, which continued throughout the visit, and now, actual, tangible damage done to his home—
"Do not touch a shard of it," Kyle said, his voice quite shrill. "And make your exit as soon as possible!" With a final smirk, Mr. Cartman tipped his hat and left, with his companions following him in a haphazard procession.
Kyle was left alone to look blankly at the shattered vase, which held only a few wilting daisies, but the destruction of which he still took as an indication that he was already bearing marks of Mr. Cartman's unruly presence.
...
Less than a week later, a messenger arrived at the Broflovski home with a strange and unexpected parcel. The thick brown paper which served as wrapping was quickly stripped away by the family, and an expensive vase, white with golden edges and a feather pattern brushed onto the sides, was revealed. If used to replace the broken vase, it looked horribly out of place in the humble Broflovski home. A note accompanied the treasure:
The price of this vase greatly exceeds that of the previous. Due to this difference in cost, and given your character, I expect that you feel you are now in my debt. I shall be attending the Valmers' ball, which is to be held in two weeks, and if you choose to attend as well, you may consider us even.
Sincerely yours, ETC
...
It seemed to Kyle as thought the decision to visit the Valmers was made for him months ago, when he first heard of Mr. Cartman's existence. Whether he would ultimately have been better off had he never caught wind of the man, he knew not. And although Mr. Cartman proved consistently aggravating, whether at the Donovans' ball or the Broflovski's own household, Kyle conceded that there was, at some level, a curiosity he felt towards the man. This curiosity did not entirely make up for Mr. Cartman's crude ways, but it did compel Kyle to seek his company when he felt he should be utterly repulsed.
His meeting Mr. Cartman in the Valmers' ballroom did very little to change these feelings, and may have even encouraged them.
The Valmers' home was approximately the size of the Donovans', if a bit smaller. Kyle was not closely acquainted to their son, but the younger Mr. Valmer was known to be crippled, and often resided closer to the city, where medical attention was at hand. However, when he returned home for visits, the family orchestrated balls to ensure he remained close to his friends. The ball was held in a series of rooms, as, unlike the Donovans', there was no large central room where crowds could gather. As such, the Valmers' balls were often smaller and more intimate. Kyle walked through the home and paused to speak with a few of his other acquaintances before moving on to the farthest room.
Upon entering the room, Mr. Cartman spotted him immediately, and called him to his side (in a manner a bit too similar to how one might call a dog, Kyle mused). Then, Kyle was made to stand while Mr. Cartman and his two friends—the trinity of which, Kyle now realized, was essentially inseparable—gushed over the array of treats available for consumption at the ball. The four stood beside the long tables as they had at the Donovans', as though the food might vanish were they to step away from it.
Mr. McCormick drank heartily, frequently refilling his wine glass, while Mr. Cartman gladly procured a plate of small appetizers for himself. Mr. Stotch and Kyle, however, remained less impressed. It seemed odd to Kyle that a man of such high status as Mr. Cartman would find an excessive joy in the simple foods of a rather mediocre ball.
"Kenneth," Mr. Cartman began, "if we were to compare the Valmers' to the Donovans', who, in your most honest opinion, has presented their guests with the superior food and drink?" Mr. Cartman's bright eyes continued to shine while he busied himself with a pastry.
"The Valmers' are most certainly the hosts with the better wine," said Mr. McCormick, "although, I am unsure as to whether I am saying so because it is the truth or because I am drunk." Kyle, horrified, forced a smile.
"I-I preferred the Donovans', myself," Mr. Stotch said carefully.
"As did I," Kyle added, smiling at Mr. Stotch, as both Mr. Cartman and Mr. McCormick scoffed and Mr. Stotch received a harsh slap on the arm for expressing his opinion.
"The two of you," Mr. Cartman sneered, "are much too proper."
"I was raised to be," Kyle said combatively. "Good breeding, you understand. It has a lasting impression on some of us." Mr. McCormick did not seem to appreciate this comment, as he soon left in pursuit of more wine; however, Mr. Cartman turned his full attention to Kyle, likely excited to be engaged in a debate with him once again. Kyle, although he believed Mr. Cartman to be on the whole mystifying, understood that the man had a need for someone who would be willing to insult him, if only so that Mr. Cartman could be justified in flinging insults of his own. Therefore, he now found himself less cautious when making blunt comments towards the man.
Yet Kyle caught sight of someone, over Mr. Cartman's shoulder, which distracted him and forced a look of distaste onto his face. Mr. Cartman quickly followed Kyle's gaze, which led him to Miss Stevens, who was discussing a likely male-oriented matter with a young friend of hers.
"An acquaintance?" Mr. Cartman inquired as his face darkened slightly.
"Ah, I suppose," Kyle sighed, "although not one which I am overly fond of. She has quite a penchant for me, however."
Kyle understood that Miss Steven's attraction to him was mostly due to his status as a respectable enough (if not overly so) bachelor who was widely regarded as having a bright future. And while she was by no means an unpleasant lady—in truth, Kyle respected her tenacity—Kyle believed her to be much too interested in material possessions to be of any interest to him. And as Kyle remembered his current company, he was suddenly struck by a new solution to his problem.
"Mr. Cartman," Kyle declared, "would you be opposed to meeting Miss Stevens?"
Mr. Cartman now laughed.
"What reason would I have," he chuckled, "to become a friend to a woman you seem to be trying to rid yourself of?" He shook his head.
"In terms of romance," Kyle began, and Mr. Cartman quickly turned his head in order to fix Kyle with a questioning gaze, "I believe, if she were to meet you, she would no longer consider me such an agreeable match for herself." Surely, when confronted by a man of such great wealth, Miss Stevens would find it suitable to direct her attentions to the clearly better option?
Yet Mr. Cartman remained puzzled, although his eyes had certainly widened, and Kyle suspected that he must have at some point misspoken, to cause this sudden change in demeanor.
"If you are uninterested—"
"No, no," Mr. Cartman interjected, "please, by all means. Your plan sounds excellent." Again, Kyle observed another change; now, Mr. Cartman acted with childish excitement, which reminded Kyle strongly of the first night they had become acquainted. Presently, he wondered whether this excitement had a specific cause which he was overlooking.
Mr. Cartman smiled, in a way quite different from his familiar smirk.
"If you should remain here," Kyle assured him, "then I should approach Miss Stevens and bring her to you." He turned to give a nod to Mr. Stotch, who both he and Mr. Cartman had been neglecting in conversation, but found that the timid man was now eyeing Mr. Cartman with a look of vague disappointment. As Kyle turned to retrieve Miss Stevens, he overheard Mr. Stotch and Mr. Cartman's rather befuddling exchange.
"M-Mr. Cartman, I believe you are misinterpreting Mr. Broflovski's—"
"Silence; what you believe is of no consequence to me, and if Mr. McCormick has again expressed to you his concerns over my intentions, you would do well to forget them."
Were Kyle not very enticed by the idea of no longer having to dance around Miss Steven's affections, he might have stopped and become concerned over the thought of Mr. Cartman possibly taking advantage of his friendship. But, Kyle was enticed, and, truthfully, was unable to think of anything that Mr. Cartman might gain by abusing their relationship.
He approached Miss Stevens—it appeared that she had seen him walking towards her, and had dismissed her friend in anticipation of his arrival. As such, she was now standing alone, her hands clasped gracefully in front of her as though she were posing for a portrait.
"Hello, Mr. Broflovski," she greeted him. "It is a pleasure to see you again."
"As it is to see you," Kyle agreed. "Though I do have another aim in approaching you, other than to make conversation; and that is to acquaint you with my friend, Mr. Cartman. Surely you have heard of him."
This certainly provoked a reaction out of Miss Stevens, although it was not the one Kyle had desired. Miss Stevens gasped, then motioned for Kyle to come closer, apparently eager to share what must be a shocking fact about the man which she had learned from local gossip.
"Yes! Why, of course I have heard of Mr. Cartman! The gentleman who has so recently acquired a colossal inheritance?"
Inheritance? Then Mr. Cartman has not always been so wildly wealthy, and has just now entered the sphere of the super-rich? Kyle thought briefly of Mr. Cartman's excitement towards the meager food supplied by the Valmers', and his horrid lack of manners. Both were marks of the lower class, and that was now quite clear to Kyle.
"Then, you have knowledge of the man? And, perhaps, there are other details which you might share with me?" Kyle, despite himself, was now leaning towards Miss Stevens as though he himself was gossiping, which, upon reflection, he was. For shame.
"Indeed; it seems that Mr. Cartman was once not only poor, but a bastard as well. His father by blood was Mr. Tenorman, who was quite well-known," indeed, Kyle knew of him, but by name only, "and after the man passed, his inheritance went to Scott Tenorman, the recognized heir and Mr. Cartman's half-brother. However, it seems that the younger Mr. Tenorman then passed away as well, although he was quite young, and the cause remains unknown. And then, a will was found, not the younger Mr. Tenorman's, but his father's, which gave Mr. Cartman's name and stated that, if no other heir remained, the Tenorman fortune was to go to him!" Miss Stevens, by this time, was making hand gestures and was as engaged in her story as Kyle was. "Imagine! And what does that say about the man, that he becomes lucky only after the deaths of many others!"
That, Kyle mused, was wildly in-character. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Mr. Cartman arguing with Mr. McCormick, who had come back from refilling his glass. Kyle was unsure as to how he should take this new information; certainly, he felt little pity for Mr. Cartman if his dead relations were merely people he did not know personally. Yet he was still in the dark as to the situation regarding Mr. Cartman's mother, for instance, or any other part of Mr. Cartman's life for that matter.
"Mr. Broflovski?" Kyle had nearly forgotten that Miss Stevens was there. "Is something the matter?"
"Oh, no, not at all. It is just that, given your knowledge of Mr. Cartman, and his rather dark history, am I correct in saying that you have little desire to meet him?"
Miss Stevens, although not overly superstitious, took her gossip quite seriously. Kyle, therefore, spared her from appearing rude by turning down his invitation.
"It is no problem, I assure you," Kyle said, as if Miss Stevens was afraid of Mr. Cartman, then there would be little chance of her being attracted to him. She smiled apologetically. And although she would have preferred that he stayed and continued conversing with her, he took his leave and returned to his other companions.
As soon as Mr. Cartman caught sight of him again, the man ran to him, and away from Mr. McCormick, who Kyle had assumed he was still fighting with. As the topic of their argument did not concern him, Kyle had desired to stay out of it. Yet, when Mr. Cartman stood in front of him and placed his hand on Kyle's arm, Kyle received a stiff glare from Mr. McCormick, and understood that he had already been involved.
"Mr. Broflovski!" Mr. Cartman shouted. He did not comment on Kyle having not retrieved Miss Stevens, as his thoughts were clearly elsewhere. "I will take this opportunity to formally invite you to visit me, over a period of a few days, at my estate, which is located—well, that can wait, what is important is your willingness to go." Kyle, although he knew this would be quite a positive experience for his career, hesitated slightly, as the offered stay did not appeal to him.
"But we should stress that it is pivotal that you should supply us with more company, as well, and extend the invitation to your close friends, perhaps," Mr. McCormick said, and Kyle sighed in relief while Mr. Cartman took to gnashing his teeth.
As Mr. McCormick and Mr. Cartman exchanged silent glares, Kyle prayed that Stanley would be merciful enough to accompany him. Mr. Cartman was still greatly mysterious to him, and he was rather opposed to visiting a house whose owner he knew only fleetingly. That, in combination with Mr. Cartman's general obnoxious attitude, repulsed Kyle. However, if Stanley was at hand, he might find the trip tolerable.
A/N: What kind of shenanigans will Kyle and Stanley get into at Mr. Cartman's place? Please leave your comments and concerns, or story alert if you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading!
