"So were do you want to go, Butters?" He asked once he'd slowed down to a low chuckle.
"Um…" I remembered that we were supposed to put toilet paper all over Kenny's house, but I also recalled that wasn't very nice either. "I'm not sure. W-what about you, E-Eric?"
"I don't know- let's hang out at my house?" Eric suggested in his "respect-my-authoritah" tone.
"W-well…sure, Eric. I s'pose we could." I preferred not to complicate things by arguing or going against anyone especially my own boyfriend who fed a kid's parents to him. I guessed I would have exclude my own parents after the stunt I pulled.
When we arrived, Eric barreled through the door and settled down on the couch and I noticed Mrs. Cartman walking through the kitchen door into the living room with a fresh batch of cookies. "Well, hello, Butters," she greeted in her soft, mothering voice. "Would you like some cookies? I wasn't expecting you over or I would have made more- Linda said you weren't allowed out today; guess she changed her mind." She smiled.
Eric grunted. "She sure did. Mom, where are my cookies and cheesy poofs? I'm starving!"
"Right here, sweetie!" His mother said in a sing-song voice. She set the plate of cookies in front of her son along with two large bags of cheesy poofs. Then she looked pointedly at me.
"Uh, no thanks, ma'am- my parents say that eating snacks will ruin my appetite…" I trailed off as I realized she'd already gone back into the kitchen to make more for me. I sighed and sat down next to Eric who had turned the TV to the channel that Terrance and Phillip were on. He was currently laughing at fart jokes I had to find as a little juvenile and immature, but he was my Eric.
"So, uh, E-Eric," I don't know why I still stuttered horribly around Eric and our friends when I had gone out with him for two years, but I supposed it was the excitement that would break my words and syllables. "What do you want to…to do?"
He sent me a sharp look as if it were obvious- and it probably was. "I'm watching Terrance and Phillip, Butters; that's what I want to do." He turned his attention back to the television and laughed nearly spraying cookie bits and cheesy poofs all over his mother's nice couch.
I admit that I was a little annoyed when I was jilted by my own boyfriend for a damn TV show, but I couldn't think of a time since our adventure to Super Phun Thyme, that I'd spoken against him. He was my teddy bear, and everyone has their own faults, right?
So watching the television with my "beau" was only interrupted by Mrs. Cartman bringing me my un wanted snack (or, should I say meal), and my own tentative thoughts about Eric and mine's relationship.
Perhaps it was time to say goodbye…?
"AY! I'm talking to you, you black asshole!" Eric yelled faintly, his accent growing even thicker.
"I-I'm sorry," I drew my eyes to the floor, "what were you-you tr-trying to say, Eric?"
He sighed heavily, clearly annoyed at my ignorance. "I was talking about a joke from the show. Don't worry about it, Butters; it's not funny anymore." He returned his large form to the front, facing his favorite show once more. I felt immeasurably guilty as I repeated his motion. Why couldn't I do anything right?
I guessed I deserved his emotional seeing as most of it was true, just as my parents were in the right to punish me as often as they did. I needed to learn the harsh reality that was the real world and step out if myself or I'd never do anything right.
I guessed I was only a dreamer whose fantasies were only delusional nightmares. But what would a dreamer be without his sick, twisted visions?