I like the way you, put your hands up in the air,
I like the way you, shake your hair,
I like the way you, like to touch,
I like the way you, stare so much,
but most of all....
Yeah, most of all...
- - -
"I like the way you move!" sang Cartman, flicking his head back, trying to get his sweaty bangs out of his face. Panting, he whispered as the music faded out to Kyle , who was positioned closest to him, "God, I hate that song. Stan is such a shit songwriter." Kyle rolled his eyes and didn't respond. Stan, who had overheard, said, "This coming from the fucking doofus who thinks 'eye' is spelt with a capital 'I', shut the fuck up."
The crowd cheered and the band took their routine bow, and Kyle took the mic, "Thanks for coming you guys! Are you ready?" he said and the crowed cheered. Him, Stan and Kenny all shared knowing smiles. Cartman looked confused, "Dude," he whispered to Kyle, "That was our last song."
Kyle just smiled and said, "Alright guys, like we rehearsed before the show. One, two..."
"Happy birthday to you!" the crowd of thousands of people sang. Today was Cartman's birthday, and since it was a tour date, they had to perform. But rather than do nothing, they had talked to the crowd before Cartman came on to sing.
"Happy birthday, dear Cartman! Happy birthday to you!" they finished.
Cartman was blushing, and he had a rare genuine smile on his face. Not the kind of smile they were used to seeing, like when somebody was in pain or he had just turned someone's parents into chili. No, it was the kind of smile you get when your best friends surprise you with a serenade of 'Happy Birthday' courtesy of thousands of your fans.
When they had finished, Stan, Kyle and Kenny smiled and chorused, "Happy birthday, Cartman!" Stan's grin was the widest, all his previous agitation at Cartman vanished when he saw Cartman smiling. He had been the one who had thought of surprising Cartman on his birthday.
Cartman grinned and said, "Thanks guys, but I was expecting a more expensive present, if you know what I mean."
The crowd laughed and the guys rolled their eyes.
"We're partying hard tonight and you're not paying a dime. Be grateful, fatass." said Kenny. Stan said into the mic, "Guess what guys, everyone with backstage passes is invited to party with us at Club Zydeco tonight. Refer to our publicist, Wendy, for directions."
"Goodnight everyone!" the guys chorused, taking another bow and finally exiting the stage area to the sound of cheers and a few 'Happy Birthday, Cartman!'s
- - -
It was three in the morning, and the boys were all suitably drunk. They had just left the club they went to after the show, and even the usually uptight Kyle was on the verge of throwing up all over his shoes. As Kyle was holding a nearly passed out Cartman upright and Stan and Kenny were giggling about nothing in particular, the paparazzi's camera flashes were blinding Wendy. She cried out, "Hey, could you guys let up a little bit?"
Most of the annoying cameramen grinned and one piped up, "Sorry, Ms. Testaburger. Business as usual." She sighed and opened the car door.
As she sat down, Cartman passed out. Wendy rolled her eyes as Stan was trying to feel her up. Normally, she would have let him. But he reeked of alcohol and probably had no idea where he was.
Cartman was passed out on Kyle's lap, and Kenny was giggling and drawing a unibrow on him. Crowds of paparazzi followed the limo as pulled out the parking lot.
"Stan stop." Wendy said, "Your friends are right there."
Stan grinned and said, his words slurred, "Cartman's passed out, Kenny isn't paying any attention to us."
"What about Kyle?" she said, agitation clearly evident in her voice. Normally, she would have given the boys hell for going out and getting ridiculously drunk, but since today was a special occasion she made an exception. She knew that the stunt they had pulled earlier tonight with Cartman and his birthday song was cute, so it was basically a free pass out of the media's bad graces.
Stan and Wendy looked over at Kyle, who hiccuped and promptly threw up into a garbage can, which was conveniently located next to him. Kyle looked even more out of it than Stan. He hiccuped and then passed out on top of Cartman. Kenny was having a field day drawing naughty words and special body parts on his unconscious bandmates' faces.
Wendy gave Stan the okay to continue, but Stan had already passed out, his head located uncomfortably between Wendy's breasts.
She shoved him off and sighed, "I guess it's just you and me now, Ken." she looked at Cartman and Kyle who had 'penus' and 'vageyena' written on their foreheads.
Kenny was giggling, and didn't even notice his name being called. Suddenly, his face went green and he threw up into the same bin Kyle did, then promptly passed out.
Wendy growled and muttered to nobody in particular, "Happy birthday, fatass. Good luck with your hangover in the morning. There was still a way to go to their hotel, so she rolled over and closed her eyes. The limousine reeked of expensive cologne and vomit, never a good combination. But she drifted off into dreamland nonetheless.
- - -
A/N: I like this chapter, and I hope you do to. This one is for R.d, who asked me to write a longer one. Well, this is my longest one to date.
I really hope this makes up for the ridiculously short and crappy chapter before this one that I had the misfortune of writing. So enjoy!
And I know I'm a bit late for Cartman's birthday, but whatever.
I DO WHAT AH WANT.
Review, please! :P
I Like the Way You Move – The Bodyrockers
