A/N: This is how much I love you, readers. I updated twice. Once; last week and now on its respected update, date. I'm trapped in lab so I figured…why not? Though I'm afraid this chapter is short. (shamed) I hope you folks enjoy! I don't own South Park or Princess Bride, blah blah blah.

Cartman looked up when he heard someone entering his office. Clyde stood at attention. "Rise and report." Cartman said dully.

"The forest has been cleared out, sire. Thirty men guard your castle." Clyde stated. Cartman huffed. "Double it. My Jew will be safe."

"Er…yes, sire. Though I only have…thirty men." Clyde mumbled as he turned and walked out of the room, passing Kyle along the way. Cartman smiled widely at the redhead. "My little kosher-boy!" he greeted earning himself a nasty glare from said boy. Ignoring the look Cartman continued; "Tonight we marry. And in the morning we will be escorted to the South-otia Park-ia's channel where every ship in my armada will accompany us on our honeymoon." The over-sized brunette concluded happily. Kyle frowned; "Oh yeah? Every ship but your fastest, huh? Every damn ship but the ones you sent out…right?" Kyle questioned walking up to the table Cartman sat at. Cartman gritted his teeth but kept his smile.

"Yes, of course, every ship but those."

Kyle slammed his fist on the table, glaring at Cartman intensely. "You unbelievable bastard." He spat. "Don't you lie, damn it! You never sent those damn ships in the first place! Did you?!" he demanded. Kyle didn't wait for an answer. "Doesn't matter. Stan's gonna come back for me."

"You really are a silly Jew."

"Yeah I'm a silly Jew but—For fuck's sake. Screw you, fatass! There I said it! That's all you are. A cowardly, manipulative fatass."

Cartman's eyes darkened. "I wouldn't say such things if I were you."

Kyle scoffed. "Why? You can't hurt me, fatass. What I said is true. Stan and I love each other, something you could never comprehend. Do you hear me? Never. And you're a coward for trying to pull us apart like this."

Cartman slowly pushed himself up. "I wouldn't say such things if I were you." He repeated. Kyle kept his narrowed eyes on Cartman but back away. "I just did." He said coldly and left the room.

--

Cartman practically stormed into the Pit of Despair and went right over to Stan who was still hooked up to the machine. He glared down at him with pure malice. "So you two truly love each other." He growled down at him. Stan stared back up at him, and really if looks could kill, Cartman would be the one 6 feet under. "Well that's fucking fine. I don't care, fags, but I will be fucking damned if you ruin my chances on ridding the world of those damn hippies!" He screamed before taking the lever and shoving it up to the last number. Garrison shot up from his seat with a look of horror. "Not to 50!" he shouted. But that was drowned out the anguish cries from Stan.

--

Christophe stopped walking and stopped Chef as well. "Chef! Do you 'ear zat?" he asked quickly.

"Uhh…" Chef listened. "People talking?"

Christophe looked around the crowed village. Indeed people were talking loudly and obnoxiously. But he heard something else. "Zat is ze sound of ultimate suffering. I made it when I was condemned to Catholic school. Ze man in black, 'e makes it now." He replied, pulling his cigarette from his lips.

"The man in black? How do you know?" Chef asked.

"The one 'e loves is marrying anozzer tonight, so else has a cause for suffering?"

"Someone who's badly constipated?"

"Shut ze 'ell up!" Christophe snapped before walking on, a chuckling Chef following.

--

Christophe and Chef roamed the forest until they stumbled across Mr. Slave who was pushing a wheelbarrow filled with assorted naughty toys. Christophe took a drag of his cigarette.

"Where is ze man in black? You get that from zis grove, oui?" he asked. Mr. Slave kept quiet and just stared. Christophe sighed. "Chef, jog 'is memory."

Chef bonked the leather wearing man on the head, knocking him out. Christophe looked up at him with a exasperated look. Chef shrugged. "Sorry." He apologized. "…What are you doing?" he asked watching as Christophe drew his shovel.

Christophe held up his shovel. "I am going to bash in zat 'ead of yours." He replied. "Stay still." He said before lifting his shovel over his head and ran at Chef. Chef easily side stepped and watched as Christophe's shovel stuck a knot on a tree. The side opened. The two carefully looked inside, and saw someone laying still on a table.

Christophe walked up to Stan's lifeless body. "He's dead." Chef said quietly. Christophe shook his head. "Eet is not fair."

---

"Wait, wait. No no. What does Chef mean 'He's dead.'? Stan's only faking it, right?" Butters cut in.

"You want me to continue or not?" Kenny asked boredly.

"Who gets Cartman?" Butters asked a new question, ignoring Kenny's. Kenny blinked. "I don't understand."

"Who kills Cartman?" He asked. Kenny shook his head. "No one. He lives." He replied. Butters frowned. "Why'uh, Professor Chaos wouldn't stand for that!"

"I'm sure he wouldn't…Listen, Butter-ball, you're sick and you're taking this story too seriously. I think we better stop now."

"No! No…I'm okay…please finish?"

Kenny sighed. "Alright…"

---

"Well…" Christophe started, as he unstrapped Stan from the machine. "Ze DeLorne's never take defeat easily. Follow me, Chef. Bring ze body."

Chef frowned. "The body?"

"And do you 'ave any money?" Christophe asked. Chef patted his pockets. "Just a little bit. Why?"

"I just hope it's enough to buy a little miracle. That's all." The Frenchmen replied, walking off.

--

Christophe and Chef stood outside a small shack of a house. Christophe lifted a hand and knocked. After a few crashing noises and a shriek the door opened to reveal a tired looking dark haired male.

"Are you Miracle Craig who worked for ze queen?" Christophe asked.

His answer was a lovely view of Craig's middle finger. "The queen's shitty son fired me, and thank you for bringing up such a painful subject. While we're at it, how about you give me a paper-cut and pour some lemon juice on it? Get the hell out of here. We're closed." Craig mumbled sarcastically going to close the door.

Christophe stuck in his foot to stop the door. "Look, we need a miracle. It's very important."

"I'm retired and I'm not even 30 what does this tell you?" Craig asked. "Besides I might kill whoever needs help."

" 'E is already dead."

Craig paused. "He is? I'll take a look. Bring him in." Craig said side stepping. "Just lay him on the table."

Craig examined Stan's body after it was laid down. "I've seen worse." He stated after a minute.

"Sir…we're in a terrible rush." Christophe said. Craig looked up to him. "Don't rush me. Rush me and you get shitty miracles. Now how much money are you going to pay?"

"We 'ave sixty-five…"

"…I have never worked for sooo cheap. Except once, but that had a noble reason."

"This is a noble reason….'is wife is crippled. And 'e 'as children on ze brink of starvation." Christophe explained.

"You're a horrible liar." Craig noted.

"I need 'im to help me kill a man who sent me to Catholic school years ago."

"Your first story was better. He probably owes you money…I'll ask him."

" 'E is dead, what part of zat don't you get?" Christophe asked bemused.

"Actually he's mostly dead. There's a difference between mostly dead and actually dead. If he's mostly dead, he's slightly alive…now open his mouth please."

Chef pulled Stan's chin down a bit. Craig looked down at him. "Hey! Hello you….What's so important to you that you're holding on for dear life?"

Slowly Stan rasped out; "T….tru…l…o-ove."

"See!" Christophe cried. " 'E said true love! Zat alone is noble enough!"

Craig nodded. "It is, but he clearly said; 'To blave.' Which mean to lie and bluff. So-"

"GAH!! You lair! LIAR!" A new voice screeched. Craig jumped back when a boy with wild blonde hair came rushing in pointing at him.

"Get back, spazz!" Craig boy twitched and ran forward chasing Craig around the table. "I'm not a spazz! I'm your 'husband-wife'! But after what you just said I'm- ergh! Not sure if I want to be that anymore!"

"You never had it good." Craig grumbled. The boy twitched again. "Gah! He said 'True Love', Craig! True love! Oh Jesus!"

"Not another word, Tweek."

"He's afraid!" Tweek said turning to Christophe and Chef. "Ever since Cartman fired him, his confidence- geeh has been shattered!"

"You said his name! You promised you wouldn't!" Craig cried. Tweek trembled and looked at Craig. "Geeh! What? Cartman?"

"Arrgh!"

"Cartman! Cartman! Cartman! Cartman! Cartman! Cartman!" Tweek shouted over and over, chasing Craig around the table again.

"This is Kyle's love." Christophe cut in. "If you 'eal 'im 'e will stop Cartman's wedding." He explained. Craig and Tweek stopped. Craig looked between Stan and Christophe. "If I help him, Cartman will suffer?"

"Oui."

"That's noble enough for me." Craig said and looked to Tweek. "Go get the things."

"Ergh! Okay!"

--

An hour later, Craig and Tweek sat at the table, Tweek was painting chocolate onto a small pill.

"Chocolate?" Christophe asked. Tweek nodded. "Helps it go down easier." He replied. "It takes fifteen minutes for it to work, or maybe even an hour."

"Yeah an hour." Craig confirmed. They gave the pill to Christophe.

"Zank you for everything." Christophe said as Chef lifted up Stan. They walked out of the hut. Craig and Tweek waved from the doorway.

"Gah. Think it'll work?" Tweek whispered. Craig didn't stop waving. "It'll take a miracle." He replied.

"Bye-bye!" The two called out.

A/N: Yeah, short. Eewie. I promise the next chapter will be better and longer!