Eric Cartman Must Die
I don't own South Park, or any of its characters. I wish I owned Butters…
Thanks to those who reviewed the first chapter, I hope you're enjoying reading this as much as I am enjoying writing it! Anyway, on to chapter 2…
Chapter 2 – Plan A
The next day, Butters awoke early and headed down to the basement. He emerged a little while later with a small plastic box and a large brown bottle, which he slipped into his backpack. He was sitting on the sofa, eating toast and watching CNN, when his parents came downstairs.
"My, someone's up early," his father, Martin, remarked as he went into the kitchen.
"I think someone's getting excited about Christmas," his mother, Linda said in the same singsong voice she had been using ever since Butters was 3, and would probably still be using when he was 30.
Butters smiled weakly at her. If only she knew what he was about to do. His stomach was in knots already. This was, as Professor Chaos had put it last night, a Big Day.
When the time came to catch the bus to school, Butters kissed Linda, shouted goodbye to Martin, and headed up the road to the bus-stop, walking like someone being led to the gallows. He half-hoped he might miss the bus, but no – there it was waiting for him. A couple of kids were getting on as he arrived at the stop. He sighed miserably and trudged towards the bus.
"Come on, asshole, I haven't got all day," the driver, Mrs Crabtree shouted shrilly at him as he got on. Mrs Crabtree was a mean old woman with a gnarled face and messy, greasy hair that her pet bird used as a makeshift nest. All the kids and teachers at South Park High hated her.
"Oh, shut up, you stupid bitch," Butters muttered under his breath.
"WHAT DID YOU SAY?"
"I said: 'Oh, Mrs Schuster's a stupid witch.'"
"Hhm." Mrs Crabtree seemed to consider this for a moment. "Yes she is."
The bus started moving so Butters walked down the aisle, looking for an empty seat. There was only one left, next to…Eric Cartman. Butters groaned inwardly and sat down. Cartman glared at him. Cartman was a tall, obese boy with light brown hair and dark, menacing eyes. He took up most of the seat, so Butters had to squeeze onto the edge. Butters looked around, and saw Cartman's friends, Stan Marsh and Kyle Broflovski, sitting just across the aisle, deep in conversation. Stan, the captain of the South Park Cows football team, was tall and muscular, devastatingly good looking, with long black hair. Kyle was smaller, thinner, with short red curls that made him look like he had a small red afro. Kyle was easily the most intelligent student in their grade. Just in front of Kyle and Stan was their other friend, Kenny McCormick. Kenny was rail thin, with messy blond hair. He was lying stretched out on the seat, snoring gently.
Butters pulled his backpack onto his knee and hugged it. He took a deep breath and shut his eyes, trying to ease the queasiness that had been building since he'd boarded the bus.
"What's the matter with you?" Cartman asked suddenly, startling him. "You gonna hurl or something?"
"I dunno," Butters admitted truthfully.
"I'm warning you, Butters," Cartman said threatingly. "You hurl on me and I'll throw you out the fucking window."
Butters groaned and sank deeper into his seat.
*
The morning passed quickly, too quickly for Butters' liking. He spent most of his lessons sitting silently, staring intently at the clock, while around him his classmates laughed and screwed around. But it was here. 12.00. Lunchtime. Showtime.
"Okay children, today we've got turkey, mashed potatoes, peas and gravy," South Park High's cafeteria chef, erm, Chef said cheerily as he dished out food onto plates. He was wearing a Santa hat today, instead of the usual chef's one. Just behind Butters in the lunch queue were Cartman, Kyle and Stan. Kenny, being from one of the poorest families in South Park, couldn't afford school dinner, so had been sent to save a table.
"Enjoy, children," Chef said as he loaded Butters' plate with food.
Butters smiled at him and walked through the cafeteria, sitting down at an empty table that was just across from Kenny's. He picked at his lunch impatiently. Craig and Tweek sat down with him, but he ignored them. Eventually Cartman, Stan and Kyle arrived at their table, Cartman trying to carry 3 very full plates as carefully as possible.
"You do not need three lunches, fatass," Kyle was saying as they sat down.
"Yeah, I thought you were supposed to be on a diet," Stan said.
"I had one slice of melon for breakfast this morning," Cartman said bitterly. "One measly fucking slice."
Cartman had been overweight all his life, mainly because of a fondness for Cheesy Poofs and Smacky Smores. When he reached his teens, however, his eating habits got worse and his weight spiralled, and even his devoted mum, Liane Cartman, had to admit that maybe, just maybe, her son had a weight problem rather than just being big boned. She was finally forced into action when Cartman won the dubious title of "Colorado's Fattest Teenager" and put him on a strict diet, depriving him of all his favourite foods. It was working though – by the end of his first week Cartman had lost nearly 3lbs, by the end of the first month it was nearly 9. To his friends, watching Cartman lose weight was like watching air slowly being let out of a tyre.
"Yeah, well, maybe you wouldn't need a diet if you weren't the size of a small oil tanker," Kyle remarked, winking at Kenny.
"Yeah," Kenny said, taking up the baton. "Your ass is the size of a small country."
"Ai!" Cartman shouted.
Kyle and Kenny laughed. Cartman was so cranky these days; it was almost too easy to wind him up.
Butters watched the group and remembered how he had been a part of their gang, once. Then they'd rejected him, and Professor Chaos had been born out of that rejection. He grimaced. It was time.
He went under the table and pulled the plastic box out of his backpack. Carefully he released the contents – a mouse he'd christened Betty – onto the floor and then sat up again. He waited. About 5 minutes later, there was a scream from Bebe Stephen's table.
"Oh my god, it's a mouse! Ewww, get it away from me!"
Bebe was crouched on her chair, holding onto her friend Wendy Testaburger for support. Butters watched as all the boys from his grade – including Cartman and his gang – rushed to Bebe's aid. Whatever Bebe wanted, she usually got, especially when it came to boys.
Butters slipped the brown bottle out of his bag, and, unnoticed by everyone else, went to Cartman's table. He took the lid off and was nearly knocked out by the smell. Weedkiller. He dribbled some carefully onto one of Cartman's plates, then glugged some on for luck. He put the bottle back into his bag and then joined the crowd around Bebe's table, so as not to arouse suspicion. Eventually the crowd dispersed, and Bebe was finally persuaded to sit down again. Betty the mouse had scarpered. Butters returned to his seat, along with Cartman and the others. Kyle was still going on about Cartman's 3 lunches.
"Remember what your mom said, Cartman," he warned. "She said if you break your diet, you won't get that car you've been banging on about since April."
"All right!" Cartman shouted, his patience snapping at last. "Here you go, pov, you have one."
He shoved a plate towards Kenny. The poisoned plate.
Kenny smiled. "Thanks dude."
Butters stood up, and sat down again. He could feel Craig and Tweek staring at him, but he didn't care. This was wrong, all wrong! He watched as Kenny ate greedily, barely pausing to breathe between mouthfuls. When he'd finished, he sat back, grinned, and patted his stomach. Butters sighed with relief. Maybe Kenny, thanks to all of his varied deaths, was just immune to some things that would kill normal people. Maybe…
Or not. Kenny began to convulse violently, banging against his chair and the table. Foam came out of his nose and mouth. He screamed in pain and then…nothing. He slumped forward onto the table and lay still. The room was deathly silent. Stan, who was sitting next to him, gently placed his finger against Kenny's neck. He pulled back in alarm.
"All my god, they killed Kenny!" he shouted.
"You bastards!" Kyle yelled to no-one in particular.
With that protocol out of the way, the noise level in the room went up again. Butters, still in shock, slumped back into his chair, shaking his head. For the next 10 minutes he sat there, mumbling quietly:
"The wrong one. He was the wrong one."
*
"Snap out of it, Leopold!"
"But I killed Kenny! I didn't mean to, but I did!"
"A minor setback."
"A minor setback! Is that what you call it?" Butters stared into his mirror. He was in his room, where he'd spent the rest of the afternoon since getting home from school. Kenny's death had tormented him, replaying constantly in his head during the afternoon's lessons.
"Everyone has killed Kenny at some point," Chaos said dismissively.
"But not like that," Butters said, tears welling in his eyes. "That was horrible."
"Listen, Leopold, you need to stop this," Chaos said gently. "Kenny's death was tragic, but it was an accident. You need to understand that. I need you on top form tomorrow, if we're to carry out Plan B."
"There's a Plan B?"
"Oh yes." Chaos' tone was sinister. "Eric Cartman got lucky today, but he won't escape tomorrow, I promise." Chaos stared into the mirror. He raised Butters' left hand.
"Are you with me?"
Butters stared at the floor for the moment. Then he covered his left hand with his right.
"I'm with you."
Phew! Well, I hope you're enjoying so far, please review if you are or even if you're not! Next chapter coming soon, hopefully.