Hi, again. I'm having a bad day, so I decided to write another chapter. Lucky you.
Oh, yeah, and hiatus is over early. Surprise. I'm still going to post my last filler oneshot on Monday, since I'm actually rather proud of it (and it's Butters. Who doesn't love Butters?).
I was concerned about the dialogue in this chapter, so I added the part with Stan to get the masculinity levels back up. Plus, Stan is just too much fun to write. As is Katie. I actually like Kyle quite a lot, too, although he's harder. I think a Butters chapter is up next.
Disclaimer: I don't own South Park.
Ch. 7: The Jew and the Pauper
"So you're back again, are ya?" asked Mrs. McCormick, as Kyle entered the front door.
"Is Katie here?"
"Yup."
"Is Kenny?"
"Nope."
"All right."
"Y'know, normally Katie's little boyfriends don't come back for a second time." Kyle nodded and ran into Katie's room.
"Hello, Kyle," Katie said, in a voice that was half-bored and half-seductive. Kyle closed the door behind him.
"So. How's it going?" Katie got off her bed and closed her book. Macbeth. Homework, probably.
"You mean in general, or specifically regarding Cartman?"
"Um. Both?" Katie smiled. Her teeth were nice, considering that the McCormicks probably couldn't afford a regular dentist.
"Well, I'm fine. I need to practice my routine."
"What is it?"
"It involves ping-pong balls." Katie laughed, and then added, in a less whorish tone, "I'm just kidding. Actually, I'm baton twirling." Kyle smiled, weakly. He cleared his throat.
"And about Cartman?"
"Oh, yeah. We practice our talents in private. Apparently some of the girls tried to sabotage another girl's routine back in the seventies. Unthinkable, right?" Kyle smiled, more easily this time. "Anyway, I'll manage to get in there. Even if I can't do anything to ruin him, it's better to know everything I can, right?"
"What about the dance?"
"Surprisingly, he's getting better. He must be practicing."
"So, what are you going to do?"
"Nothing I really can do, other than attack him with a golf club. I'm nowhere near him, so I can't 'accidentally' trip him during the dance. I could get another girl to do it, but it's probably better not to get anyone involved unless we have to."
"Do you know what he's doing for his talent?"
"Not an earthly clue. You know him. What do you think he's doing?"
"I dunno. He used to sing when he was younger, but I thought he quit after his voice dropped." Katie nodded.
"Maybe he didn't." Then came the awkward silence. Then Kyle remembered the money.
"Oh. I never gave you your $250."
"I thought it was $325."
"No, $250."
"No, $325. I can't tell Kenny, remember?" Kyle sighed. Damn.
"I only brought $250."
"All right. Pay me a hundred when I make it to the prelims."
"I'm not made of money, you know!"
"Bullshit." Kyle pulled out his wallet and said nothing. Idiot. Of course she'd think he was made of money. She was a McCormick. It's only $25 more than you were going to pay her. It's no big deal. "So, where'd you get all of your money? Mom and Dad?"
"No." Kyle pulled out the five bills and handed them over. "That's seven year's worth of savings from my allowance. The rest of the money I'm giving you will be from my job." She raised her eyebrows. "I intern with my dad."
"Oh." Katie looked down at the money. "Sorry." Kyle shrugged.
"Not your fault." Kyle smiled. Katie pocketed the money, not meeting his gaze. "Well, goodbye."
"Bye." Then Kyle left. Thinks that I just mooch off my parents. Thinks I'm just a rich kid. Was that how Kenny saw him, too? He preferred not to think about it.
As he was walking home in the perpetual snow, his cell went off. Kyle checked the Caller ID and saw that it was Stan. He flipped it open.
"Hey, Kyle."
"Hi, Stan. What's up?"
"I need help in Pre-Calc. Can you come over?" Kyle rolled his eyes. He always ended up helping Stan with his math.
"Sure. Tell your mom to make cookies."
"OK, but tell your mom that I'm not responsible for any resulting diabetic comas."
"Deal." Kyle hung up. Mrs. Marsh's cookies were worth passing out for.
"So, how was your day?" Stan asked, when they had finished his homework and were busy playing Guitar Hero. Kyle, having relaxed with a combination of trigonometry and sugar, merely shrugged.
"I went to see Katie again today."
"Oh. How did that go?"
"Not well. I mean, we sort of pissed each other off." Stan nodded. "She thinks I'm a dumb rich kid and I think that she's a biased bitch. Is all."
"Ah."
"She just... irritates me. I feel weird when I'm with her. She's such a slut. But then she can change gears and actually be kinda cool. Does this make any sense?"
"No."
"Well, too bad." Kyle sighed. "It's frustrating. And confusing. I think she's a bitch, but she's a cool bitch."
"Kyle, I'm going to give you some advice. First of all, stop talking like a girl."
"I'm not talking like a girl!"
"You're telling me that the girl you like is giving off mixed messages, and that you feel all confused inside. Pretty gay to me, dude."
"I do not... Wait, I don't like her!"
"Well, that totally ruins my next piece of advice."
"What?"
"But you don't like her."
"Just tell me!"
"Jesus. Anyway, since you like her, I suggest that you get out of this before Kenny finds out. Because if she likes you, too, then you are so incredibly dead." The song ended, and Stan took off his guitar. "Well, that was a pretty sweet song."
"I don't like her."
"Sure, Kyle."
