Hey hey! Things are going to start getting bit darker starting this chapter. As always, please LMK how you liked it by continuing to review!
"I knew it was time because I had been waiting forever to purpose to her, Butters." Stan replied, his eyes glowing with excitement.
"Basically, I was just waiting until I had saved up enough money to buy the ring that she wanted."
"You hear that, Jew?" I asked, placing my legs in front of me and placing them on top of the coffee table.
"That means you'll have to actually spend money someday if you don't want to be alone."
"Fuck off, Fatass." The ginger responded apathetically, checking his phone here and there for texts.
Kyle wasn't the only person who wasn't showing much interest in the conversation. Kenny, Stan and Kyle were all sitting on the couch while me and Butters were sitting in the two chairs adjacent to the couch. Stan came in like a blazing, energetic star of gayness, unable to contain his excitement. I couldn't care less, Kenny was indifferent, and Kyle seemed like he didn't want to be around his (now ex) boyfriend. Butters was the only person who was interested in Stan's incessant girl talk.
"Where did you purpose to Wendy, Stan?" Butters asked enthusiastically.
"Bennigans," He responded.
"Hahaha WHAT?!" Kenny laughed. "Why didn't you save more money and just take her to Taco Bell?"
Stan rolled his eyes. "Look, I know it may seem cheap," He prefaced whatever he was going to say. Then I added;
"Yeah man are you Jewish now?"
"- But Bennigans holds a lot of significance for Wendy and me," He continued, ignoring my question.
"Well what's that Stan?" Butters was chomping at the bits.
"Bennigans was were I took Wendy out on our first date EVER," He explained. "I mean, back when we were 8."
"Awwwwwwwwwww!" Butters mused wistfully. Gross.
Stan smiled, shamelessly showing his pride.
"I remember saving up my allowances for 3 months straight to make sure that I had enough money to pay for both of us," He reminisced.
"Aww, Stan! You're sooooooo romantic!" I said in my sweetest, girly tone ever. The hippie rolled his eyes.
"Anyways, that's why I'm here. I was hoping we could all go out tonight to celebrate,"
Kyle's bored gaze went from his phone to Stan. The idea of "going out" peaked his interest
"Sure, man." Kenny said. "Where to?"
"It doesn't matter," Stan replied. "Bobbie's?" Bobbie's used to be a pretty popular bar, it's clientele mainly SPU students.
"Bobbie's shut down last year," Kyle responded. "They weren't too great with checking people's Ids."
Well, the Jew would know.
The hippie shrugged. "Like I said guys, it doesn't matter. Where would you all like to go?"
Kenny's face lit up with an idea. "How about Eleven Bar?"
"NO FUCKING WAY!" I spat. Eleven Bar was a local bar/ "lounge" that turned into a club quite often. Maybe I would like it better if everyone there- and I DO mean EVERYone- weren't always getting shit-faced to the extreme…. Especially my obnoxious ginger roommate.
"That place is a SHITHOLE!" I said.
"Aww geez," Butters said. "Why do you say that, Eric? I had a good time the last time I went with Kenny and Kyle!"
"It just IS, Butters!" Then I added, "Plus, there's too many black people!"
Butters simply smiled. "Colored people don't really bother me. And besides, I enjoyed the dancing!"
"And Clyde works there!" Kenny added. Yes, while Clyde Donovan tried academia, he insisted that he was making more money doing what he was doing now than he ever would with a college degree; waiting on tables during the day and bartending at night. He was actually a decent bartender, probably due to the fact that he's not as much as an asshole now as he was growing up. Kenny and Kyle speak highly of the prick, anyways.
And with just the mention of his name, Kyle's eyes lit up with excitement.
"He will totally hook us up, Stan! He gave me like a 75% discount last time!"
I'm sure that's because the Jew drank so much that Clyde still made some good money off of him.
Stan nodded. "Sure, Eleven Bar it is, then."
"Nooooooooo!" I whined. "Anywhere but there!"
Kyle's eyes narrowed at me. "I think this is Stan's decision, Cartman." His voice was flat; in a tone which meant he meant business.
"We're going to Eleven Bar."
LATER THAT NIGHT
As soon as we walked into the shitty little bar, my nose was overwhelmed by the smell of cigarettes, hookah, alcohol and cheap cologne. The was some ghetto Chris Brown song blasting, and while there was a DJ, the night was too early for anyone to get up and dance yet.
While in between taking orders from customers, Clyde saw spotted us, yelled hello, and motioned for us to come sit at the bar, which we did.
"What can I do for you?" He smiled. His medium-brown hair was spiked and it was amusing how charming he could be, with his new his gauges and his sleeve tattoos.
Kyle beamed at the sight of Clyde. Kinda funny, seeing that he is much more excited to see Clyde than the way he acted when Stan was at the front door earlier tonight.
"Vodka Redbull," The redhead responded.
"Irish Car bomb," Kenny requested.
"Good to see you two deciding to take it easy tonight," I observed. They ignored me, again.
"Just a Blue Moon for me," Stan responded.
"Yeah, same here." I said. I mean, who the fuck doesn't like Blue Moon?
Clyde nodded at each of us, taking it in. Then he looked at Butters.
"Ohh! U-uuum," He stumbled, being caught off guard. "Well j-just a coca-cola for me, thanks."
"That's it, Butters?" The redhead asked. "Tonight's a night to celebrate!"
"M-maybe later, Kyle." He said. "Alcohol makes me…. Well, it makes me woozy…." He rubbed his knuckles together.
"That's the whole point, man!" Kenny responded. Kenny and Kyle laughed as Clyde brought us our drinks. As he started to turn away, Poor Boy got his attention yet again.
"Oh and, I'd like to add on a jager bomb too,"
Clyde shrugged and got on it.
Kyle seemed to be gurgling his drink, "Fuck you, man!" He said with a smile on his face.
Kenny laughed playfully. "What?"
"You know you can't do a shot and not have me do one with you."
Kenny looked at Kyle, smiling.
"Clyde?" The blonde said.
"Yep?"
"Make that TWO jager bombs,"
"Okay."
Butters seemed nervous and Stan looked apprehensive but was trying to give the benefit of the doubt.
And so the three of us watched ss Poor Boy and the Jew downed several shots back-to-back. At some point during the night, Kyle bought Butters a Sex on the Beach, to which he actually enjoyed. As the night went on and the dumb bar-goers got drunker, there seemed to be more and more people on the dance floor. Butters and Kenny were the first two out. Kyle went for a minute but came back for another drink. I watched the whole debauchery in shame. I asked Clyde for the check and paid it. Since we all carpooled, I was about ready to take a taxi back, but then I felt a hand on my shoulder.
"Hey, you!"
I turned around to find it was Kyle. His face was flushed and he had his dumb drunken smile on.
Ohhhh booooy. Here we go.
"Kahl, I'm leaving." I announced, standing up to leave the bar
"Nooooooo but whyyyyyyyy!?" He whined grabbing both of my arms.
" Because I want to, Jew." I shook my arms free of him. "And don't fucking touch me! You're drunk!"
Then, something flashed in his eyes, almost a combination of anger and pain.
"You always pull this shit," He said, his eyes blazing.
"What the fuck are you talking about, Jew?"
"You always go out of your way to ruin a good time!" He yelled, perhaps too loud, despite the blaring rap music.
"Tonight was supposed to be about Stan, not you Fatass!" He was getting uncomfortably close to my face. God I wanted to smash his stupid, drunk face. Then I realized that a good bit of the people in that God-Forsaken bar/lounge/shithole were watching us, since it probably did look like I was going to hit him. And God did I want to.
"Kahl?" I asked in a questioning tone.
He just looked at me, dazed.
"Go FUCK yourself, Jew!" I spat in his face and then immediately walked out of the shitty bar.
As I was walking over to one of the taxis that was parked on the street (waiting to pick up drunks), I heard a familiar voice calling me and running after me.
"Cartman!" Stan huffed.
"The hell was that all about?!" He asked, in shock.
"THAT was all about why I didn't want to come here tonight!" I said, pointing towards the bar.
"Or anywhere tonight. Kyle ALWAYS gets shit-hammered and makes a fucking scene!"
Stan shook his head. "We all have the occasional bad drinking night, Cartman. Yeah he was being too loud, but-"
"Occasional?! OCCASSIONAL!" I laughed in shock. "No no no no, you stupid hippie. This is every. Fucking. Night."
The hippie looked at me in disbelief. I continued.
"And his drinking got a lot worse after you left," I stated.
"You're exaggerating…." He said, looking at the ground.
"Exaggerating?! OH REALLY?!" Now I was pissed.
"How many times has Kyle made an ass out of you like that in public when he was drinking? How many times have you helped Kenny bring Kyle in from the car and put him to bed? How many times have you seen him you get violent for absolutely no reason, other than he's drunk?"
Stan kept his gaze down, not wanting to hear any of this.
"Or better yet, have you ever even cleaned up the Jew's vomit? Even just once?"
"Look, things got serious with me and Wendy!" He retorted. "I've been busy!"
I motioned to the nearest taxi that I will be in there, but to give me one more second.
"Too busy to send him a text, Stan?" I asked, walking backwards closer to the taxi.
Again Stan hung his head, ashamed.
I stood there, observing his shame since I called him on it.
I nodded. "Yeah. That's what I thought."
Stan stood there dumbfound as I got into the back seat of the taxi. I quickly told him where to go and then I rolled down the window.
"By the way, congratulations," I said hollowly, not meaning a word of what I just said.
I turned around and watched Stan's body get smaller and smaller as the taxi drove away.
What a fucking night.