8. Catching up with Cartman

The fucking Jew had cut him out again, he knew it. Stan had invited all of his friends to go with him to do something at Stark's Pond, but they made sure not to call him. It was outrageous, and clearly all Kyle's doing. Though none of them ever treated him fairly. You could even tell it simply in how they referred to him.

All the other kids their age had first names. Not Eric Cartman; he was only known as, 'Cartman' to them. Who knows who Eric could have been, what personality was buried underneath the veneer of Cartman. But it was too late; any other personality could have come from the boy, but not now. Now he was Cartman, and his vengeance was never-ending.

Tonight it was carrying him through the woods around Stark's Pond, following Stan and Kyle. He wasn't sure exactly what to do, but revenge was going to be cold tonight against the Jew.

Cartman wasn't exactly sure what they were here looking for. He had followed Stan to Stark's Pond, and the only one here was Kyle. As Cartman trailed behind them, walking alone through the woods, he began to wonder if this was something… gay. The two of them, through a moonlit stroll in the snow-laden woods. Sounded like a damn gay romance novel.

But he knew that Butters and Kenny had been invited as well, so Cartman let the thought pass. Kyle maybe, but Stan? Stan wasn't a fag, he liked football.

Cartman's train of thought was negated by a startling crashing sound from the woods. He tried spinning on the balls of his feet, but fell over and landed on his ass, causing a spike of pain. He heard a scream and covered his mouth, only to find the scream wasn't from him. It was coming from wherever the crashing sound was.

He snapped his head back to watch as Stan and Kyle sprinted toward the havoc. Cartman got up and started running, but was hobbling at half speed in comparison. The two other boys were out of sight quickly, and all Cartman had to go on was the general direction they had disappeared into.

After what seemed like hours of heaving and gasping for air in a dash, eventually Cartman came across where he assumed the boys had gone. At the bottom of a hill, glowing softly, surrounded by a sliding mist, was a small blue box.

Cartman blinked and took a step back. This box was familiar. He'd seen it before, he was sure. But he was also sure he'd never seen it before, as if the box were disappearing and reappearing in his memory. One second, he'd feel close to remembering what it was entirely, and the next second all that sense of recollection was meaningless. …the fuck?

But no matter how much he did or didn't remember the box, there was a feeling that stayed with him at the sight of it. Deep inside, he felt an unfamiliar, cold fire building in his chest. He took a step backward and sank behind a nearby tree for cover.

The feeling, not felt from Cartman for a long time, was fear. Outright fear. Maybe even panic. This box, whatever it was, struck fear in him. And he couldn't even remember where he'd seen it before.

Interrupting Cartman's attempts at recollection, the door to the box swung open. Cartman looked on, expecting to find Stan and Kyle. Instead, a tall, lanky man emerged, in a suit that looked like he had robbed a thrift store.

More embers for the cold fire. Something about this man, striding out of his box, was adding to Cartman's fear. This strange looking man, with his chaotically confident stride, was eerily familiar.

Soon after the man appeared, familiar faces reappeared to Cartman. Stan and Kyle, shouting at the man. The man ran back to them. Cartman couldn't see too well from staying out of sight, but it looked like he grabbed Kyle. He could vaguely hear their voices. The man sounded… British. More cold familiarity.

Soon, the two boys were heading away from the man, who quickly stepped forward to catch up with Stan and Kyle. And Cartman saw his chance.

He had to find out what this box was. Why did he remember it? Why did it scare him? What were those two assholes doing in there? And who was this man?

Cartman waited until it looked discreet, and slowly made his way down the hill, careful not to slip or cause too much commotion on his way. When he arrived at the side of the box, he stared at it wide-eyed. Being this close to it was causing the fear to escalate even further. He shoved the raging inferno into his depths and blinked. HE crooked his head to the side and examined. The door was open.

He had to step in, there was no choice. He couldn't come this close to this thing and not step into it. He pushed the door open wider and took a small step into the doorway. He stood motionless as he stared into the box.

It wasn't a box. It was a giant, metallic room. It softly hummed and whirred. It was bigger on the inside. And none of this was surprising Cartman as much as it should be.

That was the biggest surprise. He'd seen this before, been here before. He took another step inside, gave the door a push shut, and sat down in the doorway, leaning on it as he tried to remember more. He closed his eyes.

As if pulling the shades on his vision were turning on a movie, he saw images flash into his mind. A forgotten lifetime was catching up with Cartman. But the images moved too fast, he couldn't make out any of them. He opened his eyes in shock. What the hell is this!

"Okay," he said softly to himself, trying to reassure his inner self "Try again Cartman."

He closed his eyes again and fought the urge to push the torrent of images away. The first thing he could focus on was the blue box. He saw it, clearly. Cartman worked on reconstructing from there. What was around the box?

Nothing? Space! Outer space was around the box! And fire! And explosions! And screaming! But why, what was going on? Where had the TARDIS been that he saw explosions?

Cartman snapped open his eyes, realizing what he just remembered.

"TARDIS!" he shouted to no one but himself. "This is a TARDIS!"

Things were returning. He was in a TARDIS, a ship taking advantage of Time And Relative Dimensions in Space. And the giant center mass of the room was the console.

He stood up and slowly, almost in a trance, walked up the stairs and toward the console. He looked at the levers and knobs with half a sense of familiarity.

Stabilizers. Inducers. Thrust. He slowly walked around the console, mapping in his mind all of the things he could identify. He softly cursed at his small stature. If he were taller, he'd be able to see more of the console, reach more of the controls.

As he strolled around more, he found a large switch that was very familiar. "Engines!" he shouted! He jumped up as high as he could, which put him two inches closer to the lever. But it was enough, and the switch was thrown forward.

The entire room shook, the column in the center of the console began wheezing, and the mechanisms inside began pushing and pulling against each other. The room rumbled with the might and power of a rocket exploding to life.

Eric Cartman was in control of the TARDIS, piloting it, he knew not where. Everything was coming back to him though. Slowly, these memories of how to operate this ship were returning.

As the room lurched again and pitched him forward into the console, he caught himself from a nasty head collision with the underside. Stepping backward and finding relief on nearby leather seats, he sat and watched as the engines fired and the room rocked.

This ship was definitely his now. Sweet.

As he sat back in the seat, he blinked. The moving pictures in his memory hadn't stopped, and a new image appeared. It was a face, swollen and aged. But Cartman immediately knew who it was. This face he could see and remember now, despite never having seen it before. It was a face deeply ingrained into his memory.

Cartman slowly rolled open his eyes, staring through everything infront of him. He softly admitted to himself who the face belonged to.

"Dad?"