South Park © Matt & Trey.
On Friday, Cartman beats up Jason and Mr. Mackey cancels group therapy for the week – instead, giving Cartman detention all by his lonesome. Mr. Mackey is likely hoping this will give the insane teenager something to reflect on, but those who know Cartman know that the attempt is in vain.
"His own fucking fault for being violent idiot," Kyle says without sympathy as he leaves the school alongside Stan and Kenny.
"Yup," Stan agrees.
Kenny snickers, but says nothing.
"I wonder why he did that…?" Kyle muses aloud. "I mean, they don't get along but they never fought before. Must've been one too many fat jokes."
"Musta been," Kenny says, though he knows the truth. Cartman did it for him. Kenny will thank him later.
"Cartman is such a fat psycho," Kyle continues, gritting his teeth with each word. The hatred for his frenemy is all too clear.
"His favorite movie is Salò, or the 120 Days of Sodom," Kenny says with confirmation and a frown. He can't disagree with what Kyle said – he's fat… and not exactly the sanest guy around. In fact, he's very far from it. Emotional stability is something Cartman has always lacked. It's something he let go of a long time ago and it's something he isn't looking to get back.
"I know," Kyle grimaces. "Stan cried during it, so I took him home. I didn't want to sit through that twisted shit, either."
Horror movie night was something they did frequently in junior high and they all dreaded when it was Cartman's turn to choose the film.
"Sh," Stan says awkwardly. "That was so embarrassing."
"He also likes Cannibal Holocaust," the blond adds.
"Those movies shouldn't even be fucking legal," Kyle bites bitterly.
"Yeah," Kenny agrees with a sigh. "I sat through and pretended it didn't bother me, but it did and I felt sick for days. I couldn't stop thinking about all the awful things in that movie…"
"Why would you do that?" Kyle asks. "You shouldn't tolerate that kind of crap. It's just a movie. You should have made him turn it off and then done something productive… or fun at least. I mean, shit…"
"I know," the blond laughs sadly. "I just… wanted to see into his mind, I suppose."
"Well, it doesn't take a genius to understand that the mind of Eric Cartman is a pretty nasty place," the Jew says surely. "He's the worst kind of sadist."
"The movies made me feel really intense," Kenny adds, "even if it wasn't something pleasant… At the time, I thought it was okay."
"Tsk," Kyle clicks his tongue, glancing at Kenny. He raises a hand and puts it atop the blond's messy head. "Don't do shit like that," he murmurs, ruffling his hair.
Kenny smiles sheepishly before parting ways with his friends. Once he's gone, Stan asks, "Did you refill your prescription yet?"
"No," Kyle admits.
"Don't you think you should?"
The redhead sighs before begrudgingly admitting, "Yes…"
"What's stopping you?"
"I've been meaning to do it…" he admits, "I just end up doing other things or hanging out with you and the guys and I don't really want the fat ass to find out I'm on happy pills."
"It's nothing to be ashamed of," Stan offers sincerely.
Kyle can't help but laugh. "Kids are fucking evil – case and point being what Cartman and you did to Craig."
Stan purses his lips, but says nothing. He doesn't have a comeback for that. Kyle is right – it was really low of him.
"I'll do it now," Kyle says with a sigh. He takes his backpack off and digs his prescription out from inside before zipping it back up. He stares down at the paper with a frown. "Ugh," he whines.
"Come on." Stan gives him a reassuring smile and together they walk to the pharmacy.
After Cartman's detention, he heads to Kenny's house for some stress relief – whether it be sex or just hanging out. He lets himself in, knowing the blond's parents are usually too stoned to notice when someone is at the door. Upstairs, he finds Kenny sitting on his mattress, hair damp and a towel around his waist as he sits in front of his laptop. "Hi, Eric," he greets, not looking up.
"Hmph," Cartman mutters, shutting the laptop.
"Hey…" Kenny whines. "I was talking to Bebe."
"Too bad," the chubby teenager retorts. He's not a fan of being ignored.
Kenny pouts, but relents with a sigh. "Fine. So, what's up?"
"I just finished detention," Cartman states. "It was fuckin' gay."
Kenny softens. "Thank you… for doing what you did. I mean it. I'm grateful."
"Whatever," Cartman says dismissively. "It had to be done. I knew you weren't gonna do shit to him, so I did… Fuck, though. He deserves way worse than a punch."
"True," Kenny admits, "but you've hurt people, too, you know… You've even killed people. Like your father, for instance. There are plenty of killers in this town."
Cartman makes a face before rolling his eyes. "Details, details…" After a brief silence, he reaches forward and pulls Kenny's slim body towards him, reaching beneath the towel. He slides his hand up the blond's smooth thigh until a hand is placed on his wrist.
"You know… just because I'm exposed, it doesn't mean you're entitled," Kenny says, stopping him.
"Since when?" the brunet laughs. "Who'd you learn that from?"
"Bebe," Kenny admits.
"Fine, then," Cartman relents, holding up his hands innocently.
Kenny stands up a moment later and makes his way to his closet before dropping the towel. He quickly puts on some of Stan's old hand-me-downs. Once modest, he flops back onto his mattress.
"You're hot but you're fucking crazy," Cartman says out of the blue. "There are a lot of flaws beneath that pretty face of yours."
"Cool," the blond murmurs, "an insult and a compliment all wrapped into one. You have talent."
Cartman shakes his head.
"And hey," Kenny adds, "you're just as crazy, only in different ways."
Cartman chuckles at that, unable to disagree. "Then I guess we're perfect." A moment later, he can see the tears begin pooling in the corner of the blond's glassy eyes. "Damn it," he mutters. "What did I do this time?"
Kenny lets out a breath. "Nothing bad," he promises.
Cartman reaches forward and smudges the tears off the blond's face. "You're such a fucking cry-baby."
The blond exhales, lightly slapping his cheeks a few times. "I know, I know."
"How do you feel?"
"All right," he answers. "How do you feel?"
"Hella," Cartman responds.
On the weekend, the boys go to a party. Drinks? Of course, but this time, Kyle doesn't overdo it. Stan makes sure of that. The redhead makes a weak drink and sips it slowly.
Ambient music plays on the speakers as kids grind their bodies together with one another. Kyle and Stan both skip out on that part. They stand against the wall with their drinks along with Cartman, who watches as Kenny jumps around on the dance floor with Bebe. There's something in his eyes – Kyle notices it. He won't call it love. Is Eric Cartman even capable of loving someone? Kyle doesn't know. For Kenny's sake, he hopes so because no matter who he settles with, the blond deserves to be happy. He deserves someone who will give him a reason to smile big every damn day. He deserves someone who will help him feel the best emotions.
The three boys stare fondly at their friend, all thinking the same thing.
Later in the night, Kenny joins them and steals the cup out of Cartman's hand before taking a sip. "Woah! That's some strong stuff!" he exclaims.
Cartman smiles slightly, taking the cup back. "Not for the faint of heart, freckles."
"I don't even have that many freckles," Kenny murmurs, touching his nose.
Cartman shrugs before lightly offering, "At least you're not a ginger." He eyes Kyle and smirks.
"I'm not a ginger and even if I was, who cares?" Kyle snaps.
"Gingers are evil," Cartman insists. "Don't you remember when they tried to take over the world?"
Kyle scoffs. "Ha! Fat ass, half of that's your own damn fault."
Stan lets out a weary sigh and grabs Kyle by the sleeve, dragging him away before a fight ensues. Cartman gives them both a humored look, but doesn't bother getting the last word in. Kenny stares at the chubby teenager, giving him the doe-eyed Bambi look.
"What?" Cartman mutters expectantly.
"I'm sober and I don't want to be sober," Kenny says in a simpering tone. "Make me a drink?"
"Why don't you want to be sober?" Cartman pries.
Kenny frowns. "They haven't said it yet… but Kyle and Stan are together."
The brunet raises an eyebrow at that. "So… Marsh cracked the straight boy?"
"Guess so," Kenny sighs.
"And that upsets you?"
"Guess so," he repeats.
"Well, you ain't gonna drink yourself sick on my watch," Cartman declares. "Especially not over those two fags. Besides, it's only funny when Kyle throws up."
Kenny rolls his eyes. "I have pills in my pocket. I could just pop those right now, but I thought I'd go softer tonight and forego harder drugs."
Cartman grimaces. That's one thing he hates about Kenny – the drugs. Drugs are for hippies, after all, and everyone knows how much he hates hippies. Without hesitance, he reaches forward and digs a hand into the blond's pocket, fetching the little plastic baggy. He raises it to his eyes, staring at the little, round pills with stupid shapes on them. "Ecstasy?" he murmurs.
"Hey…" Kenny whines, holding out his hand. "Give them back."
Cartman ignores him and turns around, exiting the room and exiting the house. Kenny follows him and soon the two of them are outside. Cartman walks to the end of the driveway and dumps the pills out of the bag, stepping on them before tossing the baggy aside. When he turns around, Kenny is staring at him with his jaw open.
"Don't give me your money making mouth," he says somewhat lightly.
"Asshole," Kenny murmurs. "I paid for those."
"With what?" Cartman snorts. Kenny only smiles lewdly in response, causing Cartman to realize that what he paid with wasn't money. "Oh," he mutters tartly.
The two of them return inside, leaving the cold behind. "You care," Kenny accuses offhandedly.
"Don't be a sentimental shit," Cartman says with a scoff.
"You do," Kenny insists. "You care about me. You like me."
"Of all the hos in this damn room, I could take my pick," Cartman says, gesturing to his surroundings. "Look at them all, begging for a dick."
Kenny smiles knowingly. "Abusive asshole, stop trying to overcompensate. Even if that was true, you don't want any of them. I'm the only ho you want."
"You're not good for nothin' else," Cartman mutters, but it's a blatant lie.
"Liar," Kenny calls him out. "You like me, not just what I give you. Stop trying to convince yourself of otherwise."
Cartman makes a face at him, but doesn't say anything more.
"You're allowed to drink, right?" Stan asks Kyle. They're seated in the kitchen on barstools with Butters and Kyle is mixing himself another vodka lemonade.
"Yeah," Kyle says. "It's just Zoloft and I did my research. It's not gonna kill me."
Stan nods slowly.
"Zoloft?" Butters pries. "What's that?"
"Candy," Kyle tells him.
They went to the pharmacy to get Kyle's medication earlier and then they went back to the Broflovski house. When Kyle was in the bathroom, Stan looked over the prescription. Before all that's happened, he never even knew Kyle was suffering. He hides things well… and clearly he manages. Either way, Stan is glad Kyle chose to tell him. They're friends, after all. Well, no… Now they're more than that. Stan still isn't used to it.
After a minute, Kenny and Cartman enter the kitchen. "Cartman likes me," the blond announces.
"No, I don't," Cartman says before insisting, "I tolerate you."
And everyone in the room knows that it still means a hell of a lot.
"Nonetheless… you suit one another," Kyle adds. "I mean that."
"I know," Kenny replies with a suggestive wink. "Pain is my kink and he's a sadist. It works."
"Gee whiz!" Butters exclaims, covering his ears.
In the late hours, Cartman – being the gentleman he is – walks Kenny home. They stroll along the icy sidewalk silently until Kenny breaks into song and rhyme. "There was a crooked man and he walked a crooked mile," he starts, hopping onto the bus stop bench and walking down the length of it as if he were walking a tight rope, "he bought a crooked sixpence upon a crooked stile. He bought a crooked cat, which caught a crooked mouse and they all lived together in a crooked little…" He trails off, jumping back onto the sidewalk before finishing, "House!"
In the back of Cartman's mind, Bebe's words are still singing at him - telling him to be better. For Kenny, maybe he could be. Cartman stares at him fondly before declaring, "You're the biggest faggot in the world."