A Note From Ben: Sorry for the delay on this one. I've been kinda busy lately. On top of that, I've been planning other stories. If all of that wasn't enough, every time I'd try to write this chapter, I'd find myself stuck. Normally, the story plays itself out like a movie in my head and I just write down what I see, but this one was stubborn, like the film was broken or something. Anyway, here it is, mostly from Cartman's perspective. Enjoy!

Chapter Two – Toy Blocks and Cell Blocks

Cartman had never known rejection like this, and it was pissing him off seriouslah. Butters had refused to heel and obey his orders on numerous occasions, busting him in the face each time he tried. Now, to add insult to injury, his friends had taken the little blonde on as their new best friend. He had, in other words, been replaced by the biggest loser in school.

"You had it coming to you, Cartman," Kenny told him when he cornered him by his locker. "You've always treated your friends like shit and we finally got sick of it."

"But Kenny," Cartman responded, "I thought you and I….we're best friends forever…"

Kenny gave him a look of pity before reaching into the pocket of his parka and pulling out a chain. Cartman knew without seeing the pendant on the end that it was his friend's half of their Best Friends Forever necklaces.

"Here," Kenny said, handing over the keepsake. "I don't think I should keep this anymore."

And with that, Kenny walked away, leaving Cartman standing there in shock.

Cartman pulled himself out of his own thoughts when he reached the bus stop and saw his old friends there with Butters. They were all laughing and talking about their plans for the weekend. When he walked up, they gave no indication that they saw him or that they even cared he was there.

"Hey, Kyle," Cartman said.

"So you guys are definitely coming to stay over at my place this weekend, right?" Kyle asked, brushing him off entirely.

"Hey, Stan."

"Totally dude," Stan said, following Kyle's lead and pretending like he didn't hear.

"Hey, Butters."

"It'll be great!" Butters exclaimed. "I can bring over some movies if ya want."

"GOD DAMN IT!" he screamed.

He stormed away, feeling as though someone had stepped on his chest. He wasn't one to get emotional over things, but these guys were his friends. They had always done everything as a group, and that included ripping on the little Melvin that they had replaced him with. Sure, he had always made it a point to tell them all how much he hated them, and had even gone out of his way to make Kyle's life miserable, but weren't guys supposed to do that to each other?

The rain started pouring down hard, soaking him to the skin within a minute, but he didn't notice. He was too far into his own thoughts to notice his own discomfort or to think that he'd probably catch pneumonia out in this horrible weather.

How could they do this to me? he thought. They can't treat me this way. I'll make them eat their parents!

No, that wasn't right, was it? All the plans for revenge, all the scheming; that's what had gotten him into this mess in the first place. He thought back over all the times he had made fun of Kyle for being a Jew, ripped on Kenny for being poor, and tortured Butters for being….well, for being Butters.

"Butters!" he exclaimed suddenly, his usual wicked grin spreading across his face. "Yes, of course. All I have to do is ap…apologize to Butters and be his friend and those guys will forgive me for sure!"

It was so perfect, he was surprised that he hadn't thought of it before.

Butters was in his room with Kenny, playing with his blocks, of all things. Butters had never known Kenny to be interested in toys like his before, especially since a lot of kids their age considered blocks to be for babies. He looked over at his friend and noticed he'd been spelling words like "TITTIES" and "MUFF"; he suddenly understood entirely.

"Gee, Kenny," Butters said, "you sure can get creative with toys."

He remembered yesterday, when he and the others had been messing with his Play-Dough and Kenny had somehow managed to sculpt a naked woman, complete with enormous breasts. Kyle had just shook his head and muttered something about the hooded boy being a "sick freak".

"What can I say?" Kenny replied, bringing him back to the present. "It's a gift."

They heard a knock on the front door and leapt to their feet, forgetting the toys entirely. They had been expecting Kyle and Stan for quite some time and had been wondering where they were.

"Oh, boy," Butters cried, "they're finally here!"

They rushed downstairs to see Mrs. Stotch standing there, talking to Cartman. Butters stopped suddenly, causing Kenny to crash into him from behind. They both went tumbling down the stairs, but Kenny somehow got trapped under the other boy as they hit the bottom, causing him to land on his neck.

"Oh, my God!" Butters moaned, genuinely upset. "I….I've killed Kenny!"

He burst into tears and threw himself onto his friend's lifeless body.

"What's the big deal?" Cartman asked. "He'll be back tomorrow."

Butters looked up at him with a furious scowl, tears still running down his face. Either he hadn't caught on to the You-Killed-Kenny gag or he just didn't care. After all, he was a loving boy and cared deeply for his friends, especially since he had never had many.

"You bastard," he growled at the fat kid in the doorway.

"You're a little late," Cartman scoffed. "You're supposed to say that right after "I/You/We killed Kenny, not after somebody says something else."

"YOU BASTARD!" Butters screamed, launching himself at Eric with a look of hatred. "YOU BASTARD! YOU BASTARD!"

He landed on Cartman, causing them both to tumble backwards. Butters heard the other boy's head crack sickeningly against the sidewalk, but didn't stop to think about it. He began beating Cartman in the face again and again, busting both his nose and his lip as well as blackening both his eyes. He only stopped when Mr. Stotch rushed out of the house and pulled him off.

"No, Butters!" he cried, trying to restrain his thrashing son. "No!"

"Kenny's dead!" Butters wailed, still trying to wiggle out of his father's arms to finish the job. "Kenny's dead and this fat asshole doesn't care! He never thinks of anyone but himself!"

"It's over, son," Mr. Stotch said firmly into his ear. "It's over!"

Cartman was in Hell's Pass for three days due to excessive bruising and head trauma. When he woke up, he noticed right away that there was nobody by his bedside, which actually hurt more than his wounds did. Nobody cared whether he lived or died or whether he'd wake up retarded or something.

"Jesus," he swore, "I really have been an asshole, haven't I?"

He was released shortly thereafter and give a prescription for painkillers. Instead of heading straight home, however, he went to the police station where Butters was being held.

"I want to see Stotch," he told Officer Barbrady.

"Sure thing," the officer replied. "You know, that was quite a beating he gave you. We're not sure whether we want to nail him for assault and battery or attempted murder."

"I don't want you to nail him for anything," Cartman said softly.

"What?" Barbrady asked, not sure he'd heard him right.

"I….I don't want to press charges. It was my fault."

They reached the cell in which Butters was being held and Cartman walked up to the bars alone. The Stotch boy was laying there, staring up at the ceiling, and didn't notice when they approached. Apparently, he was too lost in his own thoughts for much of anything to get his attention.

"Butters," Cartman said, causing him to jump in surprise and finally look over.

"What the heck do you want?" Butters asked bitterly.

Cartman braced himself for what he was about to do. He wasn't one who normally apologized, but this whole thing had taken it's toll on him. Maybe it was time for him to change. Maybe he could start being a little nicer from now on. Well, he knew that he couldn't be completely nice all the time, at least not at first, but he'd try and improve bit by bit, starting now.

"Butters," Cartman said again, "I…want you to know….that….I'm….s-sorry."

The other boy said nothing, but continued staring coldly at him through the bars.

"This is all my fault," Eric said, taking a deep breath. "I guess waking up in the hospital and seeing that there was nobody there, that…nobody cared if I was dead or not…it made me realize something."

"And what's that?"

"When Kenny died, you cried over his body. You were really upset over it. If something like that happened to me…I mean, if I were to die or whatever…nobody would shed a tear. Nobody would even notice."

Butters looked down at his feet. For the first time, he actually felt sorry for him. Everyone had always pitied him because they thought he was weak and gullible, and he supposed that yes, he probably was once. Still, he'd had a decent upbringing by two moral people who had tried to instill certain values into him. This boy, on the other hand, had been raised by a crack-whore hermaphrodite who coddled him, gave in to his every demand, and never tried to give him any kind of principles at all. It wasn't really his fault that he was like this.

"I would," Butters said softly.

Barbrady opened the cell and allowed the Stotch boy to come out.

"What did you say?" Cartman asked, shocked.

"I'd care if something happened to you."

Cartman was too stunned to say anything else. Wasn't this the boy he'd tortured and taken advantage of? He remembered putting him in a bomb shelter and telling him society had fallen. He thought back on the whole "bi-curious" incident, in which one of his pranks had backfired and gotten Butters put in a Christian anti-gay camp.

This has to be a trick, he thought to himself as they turned to walk out. It has to be….right?

"Why, Butters?"

"Well, shucks, you apologized, right?" Butters told him in his old cheerful voice. "You ain't ever apologized before. Besides, we've been friends almost as long as Stan and Kyle. Guess that means we shouldn't hold grudges or nothin'."

Cartman had never looked at it that way, but Butters was right. They had even been together in that whole Trent Boyett incident back in pre-school in which, in an attempt to be real firemen, they had started a fire and accidentally burned their teacher beyond all recognition.

"Sure, Butters," he replied with a smile as they emerged onto the street. "Mind if I walk home with you?"

"Shucks no, Eric!" the other boy exclaimed. "That'd be real nice of ya!"

He didn't know why he offered, or what was coming over him. He had no idea why he suddenly felt the need to change. After all, it had never mattered to him before that everybody hated him. Once, he would have considered it an honor, for everyone had hated Hitler as well. Three months ago, if he had found himself in the hospital with no one there, he would have just taken it as a reason to be extra cruel to them.

What the hell is happening to me? he asked himself.

Chapter Three will come a lot sooner than this one did. Stay tuned, y'all!