Murderarson's South Park IV: Party-Part One
POV: Stan
The day of the party has arrived! I'm psyched to see what my dad has planned for the alcohol (he said it was a special surprise). I woke up after an approximately two hour nap, and saw a shocking sight. Huge sixteen-wheelers filled with beer, mescal, and whiskey are in my driveway. "Dad, what the hell is going on?" I ask my father.
"Oh, hey! Your awake! Well, I got all of this from a friend of mine that lives in Mexico," replies my father.
"Well, that explains the mescal," I state, "But how did you get the Jack Daniels? Isn't that from Tennessee?"
"What, you think they don't have Jack in Mexico?"
"Okay, then." At that moment, I see Wendy walk up the driveway in awe of the beverage trucks.
"Stan! I tried calling you! What is all this?" my sweet asks.
"Alcohol from Mexico," I elaborate.
"I have some friends in Tijuana that have warehouses of this shit," my dad further explains to Wendy.
"Randy, can Stan and me take a short walk?" Wendy asks.
"As long as your back before the party, and you don't give him an early birthday present," said my father.
"Dad! Would you please shut up? Jesus!" I ask my annoying father.
POV: KyleThe Night Before...
I took Kenny's advice and went on this "business date" with Bebe. We went to B. F. Chang's for this date. I think that Bebe took this as more than a casual dining. She talked about very private subjects, such as my genitals, and I think she felt my crotch once or twice. When we both knew what she was doing, I said to her, "Hey! Would you cut it out! Your my best buddy's girlfriend, for Christ's sake!"
"No, I'm not," she casually replied.
"What! When did you ever end your relationship?"
"It's pretty complicated."
"How?"
"Well, my family convinced me that Kenny is just poor trash."
"Don't talk about him like that!"
"Don't you tell me what to do!" She sounded really pissed now. "Besides, there are plenty of better fish in the sea... Like you," she said in a seducing voice, as she felt up my leg.
"BACK THE HELL OFF!" I shouted at her.
"Is there a problem?" asked the waiter.
"Fuck yeah, there is! This whore is trying to fuck me, an she's dating my best friend!" I shouted at him.
"No, I'm not! Now shut up! You're making a scene out of yourself!" Bebe said to me.
"I don't give a rat's ass if I'm making a damn scene! Get the fuck away! I never want to see you again, you whore!"
Mothers were covering their kid's ears, fathers were complaining to waiters, and Bebe was about to choke me. Finally, the manager walked to our table and kicked us out. It was a wild night.
The next day...
I'm taking a shower in preparation for Stan's party. I'm pretty mad at Stan for this. He was supposed to just have a bonfire or something with some friends. Now this party bullshit! I have a bad feeling about this. For one, I think that Bebe might take advantage of a drunk me. Next, I might say something that I don't mean to Stan. Third, and this is a wild card, I may get hammered, blackout wasted and rape Wendy. I put in my shampoo. Despite my strange thoughts and suspicions, I'm still going to the party. What kind of a dick move would it be to not show up at my best friend's birthday party, when I know damn well when and where it's at? I put in my conditioner. My hair has turned from Jew-fro to emo-like hair. I constantly comb it back with my hand, but conditioner and my hat help a lot.
My phone rings. I decide to ignore them, and call them back after I finish. But, it kept ringing. They called about five times in succession, replaying the chorus of "Your Betrayal" again and again. Finally, I pick it up after I finish my shower (rather hastily for my liking). Of course. The bitch I loathe the most in the damn world right now; Bebe. "What the fuck do you want?" I ask with contempt.
"Why so angry? Is it from B. F. Chang's last night?" she asks. Damn whore, trying to fuck my head.
"Leave me alone."
"Why? I like you. If you don't..."
"Look, I might be acting a bit harsh. But I have legitimate reasons for this. As for liking you, I do like you, well, sort of. Your nice, your hot, but, your dating my friend-"
"How many times do I have to tell you? I am not dating him!"
"In his eyes, you two are still in a relationship! I can't betray him like that! But if he knew, then I guess I would date you, after some time for Kenny to cool down."
"Well, Kyle, it's now or never with me!"
"If he knew, then I'd go out with you! But he doesn't!"
"Then call him and let him know!"
"I tried to! It just goes straight to voicemail!"
"Oh, well." She then hung up.
"Fucking bitch!" I shout to myself.
I then get a picture message that says, "Unless you want to miss out on this, get over your feelings and meet me at the party." It also has a naked picture of her masturbating attached to it. The towel rose when I saw that, if you get what I mean. I don't know what to do. Should I do her? Should I not and be true to my friend? God, this is all so confusing! Well, I should just get dressed, go to the party, and see what happens...
POV: Cartman
This sucks ass, being on the streets like this! At least I know of one place to go: The KKK Fair. Alright, so you might be thinking, "What the hell? The KKK has a fair?". Well, they do. Don't ask me why, but it's for the kids, I suppose. I walk up, and there's a "Whiteness and $5 Admission" fee. Well, one of those is obvious! No need for a sign! However, I pay the fee (adding $5 to an otherwise empty pickle jar) and walk past to Klansman wearing those white dress-like things and AK-47's. Except for those two people (who were pretty nice to me, wishing me a good day) everyone was wearing normal clothing. The place wreaked of home-brewed ale, urine (from the "Piss on a Live Mexican" stand), corpses (from the "Lynch the ****** And Win a Hitler Doll or a Swastika Armband" stall.)(the stars represent the "n" word), and vomit.
Besides the attractions I mentioned, I also saw port-o-potty's lined in a row, a "Kike Gun Poker" stand (where you play poker, and when you win, you shoot at an Jewish woman), and an entire mobile home community, with a clubhouse at the center which stated, "Now Accepting Members". That's where I'm headed. I walk over (after paying $10 to piss on the Mexican. $10? Come on!) and enter the clubhouse. The room all looked at me, and I said, "Die Personifikation des Teufels als Sinnbild alles Bösen übernimmt der lebendigen Gestalt des Juden."
"Okay, then! Your in, brother!" said what I believe to be the head Klansman, at least at the time.
"Willkommen auf der Klan, Bruder!" said another person in the room. I never knew that the Klan spoke German (well, with Hitler and all, I see why). I sat down with the men, and joined a game of poker.
POV: Stan
Wendy and I began to walk on the slate path through the woods hand-in-hand. "So, what do you want to talk about?" I ask my love.
"Well, at the party, we both might get pretty drunk," Wendy said to me.
"What, do you think I'm gonna take advantage of you or cheat? You know that I'd never dream of that, even if I'm hammered," I reassure her. Truthfully, I don't have any idea whether I'll cheat on her or take advantage of her or anything like that.
"You don't know if you'll do anything wrong or not," she says, seeing through my faux comfort. "You've never had a drop of alcohol in your life."
"The same goes for you!" I retaliate (I don't know why I am, though). "You might get horny, and a drunk me probably won't stop you from screwing him!"
"Please don't turn this into an argument. Neither of us wants to put up with bullshit like this today."
"You're right. Sorry."
"Apology accepted. As I was saying, we both might get wasted and we might have sex. If so, I want at least one of us to be ready."
"So, what are you saying?"
"I'm saying you should have condoms."
"Oh, come on! Don't make me ask him!"
"If not I'll ask him."
"What?" This hit me by surprise! "You would do that?"
"Yes, I sure as hell would."
"You'd be sabotaging our relationship!"
"No, I wouldn't! Your dad's cool!"
"But it's so embarrassing!"
"Unless you want me to ask him, you'll do it."
"Okay, fine. You win. I'll ask him. Now, how about some sugar to hold me over until tonight?" We then promptly made out. Sure, it's not the smoothest line, but at least it got the job done, in a sense.
Later that night...
Of course, nobody's on time! No big deal, though. I'm sure they'll arrive soon. And sure enough, here's Kyle! He is wearing no hat (strange for him), a Bullet for my Valentine t-shirt, jeans, and a glum look.
"Hey, man! Where've you been? Why so down?" I ask him.
"It's Bebe." he replies with a sad tone.
"Didn't you have that dinner with her?"
"That was the biggest disaster that restaurant has ever fucking seen," he says, more agitated than before.
"Okay! Well, I'm sorry for you. I wish I could understand your situation, man. But, you might as well enjoy yourself for the time being," I tell my friend.
"What, are you trying to get me drunk?"
"No! Why would I do that?"
"I don't know. Sorry I'm so hostile. It...it's just the situation with Bebe. Everything is so confusing."
"I see. Well, there isn't much to do, you're the only one here, I spoke too soon! Hey, Clyde! Hi, Rebecca!" I say to the couple advancing up the driveway. Heidi followed them, then Token and Rhoda (at whom Wendy scowled at), then Butters, then Pip (I don't know why he'd come here), then Bebe from whom Kyle hid from for as long as possible. Then the party got started, as well as the Call of Duty tournament (Pip, surprisingly, won; who would've known he kicks ass at Call of Duty?).
A/N: I am not racist, nor do I support any of the ideology of Adolf Hitler. This is all fictional. Also, to any Jewish people that may be offended, I apologize for using the term "kike" to describe a person that practices Judaism in my story. Also, I don't know if the restaurant name is B.F. Chang's or B.F. Wang's or whatever. Please don't complain. As long as you get the point, it doesn't really matter. Just wanted to clear that up before the end of the chapter.
POV: Wendy
The party really got started after the stupid Call of Duty tournament. Honestly, I don't see what the big deal is with boys and video games! It's like an addicting drug that causes loneliness and people to live in their parent's basement until forty! Well, enough of my ranting. I noticed that Rhonda was cheering Token on a lot, mostly distracting him with her seductive cheers. I think that she was competing with me on being a good girlfriend, though I didn't do much else other than verbal encouragement. Unlike her, I have a little something called dignity, so I didn't take her on. Even though I probably would in a different situation.
Anyway, after the tournament, as a result of the bet formed from the challenge, all the boys bought Pip a round of shots (he requested brandy, but since no one here was a British-y fag, he got the hardest mescal that Randy could buy). After the public drinking display, the stereo was turned on and everyone started to dance. Stan and I were dancing like there was no tomorrow (mostly because Rhonda was trying to compete with me again). Everything in the house bounced and vibrated in pace with the music. Clyde and Rebecca were dancing with forties in hand, most of it spilling on them. Pip was on the bar, dancing like a blithering Neanderthal. Wow, that mescal had to be strong! The bartender, Randy, as you can plainly deduce, wasn't pleased with this. He pantsed him, exposing his balls to God and everybody. Pip lost his balance, and tumbled down off the bar, surely bruising himself.
"Hey, Wendy! Quit staring at his sack and get over here!" Stan shouts. "I'm gonna have my first beer!"
"Oh, God!" I thought to myself. Still, I approach the crowd around Stan.
"Come, on! Get over here and have one with me!" Stan said, beckoning me over to the center of the throng.
"Yeah, whore! Go and speed up your fuck-fest with your man!" Rhonda said.
"You little fucking bitch! I'll fucking choke you!" I shouted, outstretching my hands, which were inaclaw.
"Hey, hey! Break it up!" said Bebe, in a courageous move. Token was the only one restraining Rhonda from clawing Bebe's eyes out. Kyle, who was standing next to Stan, recoiled as Bebe passed him with a wink. I didn't need to respond to Stan's request. He took the hint.
"Okay, Kyle! This is a defining memory in both our lives!" said my handsome, masculine Stan.
"You said it! Three, two, one, Bottom's up!" said Kyle, as they interlocked arms and chugged. Kyle has a shot of mescal, but Stan has a twelve-ounce can of beer. Both of them recoil a little after drinking their beverages, but let out a synchronized "Woo-hoo!". We all give them applause (I find it strange why, but I chime in for Stan's sake). Then, my boyfriend got a forty for himself, and a twelve-ounce can of beer for me. We then proceed to dance, as Kyle just sat at the bar, shooting mescal like it was milk.
POV: Kyle
Jesus Christ! Will this bitch leave me the fuck alone already! I don't want to deal with this bitch right now! My only solution is to drown my problems with mescal, similar to my dad. I keep having to move from place to place until she finally catches up to me and I'm forced to confront her. Fuck!
"Ugh! What do you want, for the love of God?" I ask in an annoyed tone.
"I don't see why you resent me so much," Bebe stated.
"Look, if I could get a hold of Kenny, then I would tell him about this break-up! Until then, I won't accept your advances, devil!" I shout at her, in a tipsy drawl. That last sentence was most likely from the tequila.
"Okay, you're obviously buzzed. Now, why don't you try to talk to him now?"
"Fine, I will! But not from your advice, Lucifer-a!"
"Wow. You might be more than buzzed."
I dial the number, and walk out of the house. "Stay away, will you?" I ask Bebe. Luckily, she obeys. Dial tone. "Yes!" I cheer quietly to myself. Dial tone. Dial tone. Now I start to worry. Dial tone. Just as it goes to voicemail, he picks up.
"Hello?" he asks. I can tell he's driving.
"Hey, man! What have you been doing?" I ask him. I only talked to him once, so something's up.
"Never mind me. What have you been doing, Mr. Alcohol?" Damn! He knows I've been drinking! Not that it's not too hard, but this ruins my credibility!
"Mescal, for your information." Idiot! Why did I blurt that out?
"Huh. Well, how did the business date go?"
"Shitty as diarrhea! Ha ha! But, she took it as more than a date."
"You probably made a wrong move somewhere down the line. Don't worry."
"No, no! You don't get it! She broke up with you! She wants me now!"
"What alcohol can do." He then proceeded to laugh hysterically, almost like he was crazy.
"You don't-" I was cut off by him rudely hanging up on me. Jack off! I'm trying to help him out! And he just hangs up on me and ignores me! Then, the damnedest thing happened. Bebe, with a smirk on her face, took-
POV: Cartman
"Brother, you need to prove your allegiance to the Klan!" said the head Klansman.
"We understand that you know of a covetous, thieving, conniving kike in South Park; a boy by the name of Kyle Broflowski," said another, higher Klansman.
"Your assignment is to kill him."
"What?" I said with surprise. "Why not Token Black?"
"You would be, what we call, a 'Jew Specialist', since you hate the kikes so Goddamn much."
"Thus, you must kill the kike," chimed in another Klansman.
"I see. When will I get my chance?"
"How and when you kill him is up to you. You just have to kill him, and present to us a picture of his corpse to confirm your service to the White Kingdom," said the head Klansman.
"Alright. I understand," I say to him, and bid him a good day. With these feelings I've had lately, I don't know if I can do this. I can't think. I decide to go to Stark's Pond to think, and guess who I find there? Fucking Butters! Oh my God! I can't have a moment to myself! And guess who he's with? Heidi! How the Sam Hell does a loser like Butters get with a fine bitch like Heidi? The world makes no Goddamn sense! I just hide under the pier and jack off to the scene. It's just not the same as the gay porn, but it can still get the job done for me. After that, I just sit under the pier and think. Can I kill Kyle? Well, first I must find out my definite sexual orientation. I'll go to that party of Stan's, and try to fuck a drunk whore. I'll use the suicidal trick on them (pretend that you're suicidal because you're ugly or something, and then see if they will fall for the bait and fuck you to save your life). So I'm not noticed by any of the other girls as trying to get laid, I'll simply buy a round for all the girls once or twice.
Once that part is complete, I will attempt to kill Kyle. Most likely I will actually get the ammunition for the gun I will use in the first plan, then shoot him after a carefully-planned abduction (that will be arranged at a later time), and when I find a place for the kike corpse to be hidden, I will proceed to put him there. But first, before all of this, we must report to the party. Wait. We? Who's we? Me, Cartman. Your only companion, the voice in your head, T. T? Is that why you sound like Towelie? Precisely, Cartman. We will help you throughout your days as the conqueror of the Jew Race. Okay, T. We're off to the party, the party leading to a murder...