Dear Diary,

My mom was feeling better today – well enough to take care of herself – and if the guy was gonna come to beat her around a little more, then he would've shown up already, so I went to school. Do you know that feeling when you wanna just hug someone really badly? Yeah, I felt that at the bus stop when Kyle asked me how my mom was. Nobody's ever given a shit about my mom before – all think she doesn't feel shit just cus she's a whore – so it means a lot, y'know. So I told him she was fine – banged-up, but surviving – and I thought that'd be that, but when the bus came he didn't sit next to Stan like he usually would; he sat next to me and kept asking me stuff. It almost felt like he wanted to get to know me. It was nice. Gave me hope.

In return, I gave him a flower – one I picked from the grass around the school. He still looked suspicious about it, but he didn't blow up at me and demand to know what evil scheme I was plotting – he just took it kinda hesitantly and said thanks real unsurely. He was a little pensive for a bit after that, but after a while he seemed to realise that accepting a flower from me wouldn't be the death of him, so relaxed. Meanwhile, giving him a flower was certainly almost the death of me. I couldn't even speak, couldn't even say, "Here's a gay little flower for you, Jew, whatever." My throat just closed up and I probably looked like a weirdo, mutely shoving a flower in his face. Maybe that was why he was wary about it. My nerves are really hindering my progress with him. I need to do something about that.

In other news, apparently Token's holding a party at the end of the week. I'm probably not invited – I'm never really invited anywhere by anyone – but fuck it, I'm turning up anyway. Gate-crashing that shit. Token's rich-ass house is cool as fuck and I ain't missing out on that. Also Kyle's going, so...Yeah.

Yours Truly, Eric Cartman

P.S. I should get Kyle a bouquet of his favourite flowers instead of just one measly little flower.

Author's Notes:

And here we can see the rare PartiPooper, gracefully side-stepping away from the angst and sads in favour of courting the light-hearted fluff. What a fascinating, complex creature the evasive Fanfiction Writer is.
Thank you for reading this, and I hope you enjoyed doing so as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Disclaimer: South Park does not belong to me, but to its creators, Trey Parker and Matt Stone.