1Author's notes: Since it's Christmas time, I figured I should get another chapter of this story posted for the two people still reading it. I know this chapter isn't very long considering how long I've made you wait for the update, but something is better than nothing right? Consider it a present for the holiday. I want to thank everyone who helped me out with this chapter too. I had no idea what to make Butters wear since I'm one of the only guys on this site. By the way, there are some comments in this chapter that I guess one could interpret as Kenny/Butters and Butters/Cartman slash, although neither pairing is going to be in this fic intentionally. There's only one more chapter to go after this, hopefully. Thanks for those of you still reading, and Merry Christmas (or whatever you celebrate).

It was a move stolen right out of Eric Cartman's playbook, but Wendy didn't care. The ends would justify the means in her opinion. She was already running out of patience, but with the dance drawing closer and Cartman still on the hunt for a date, she was also running out of time. She hoped Cartman would recognize, and possibly even appreciate, her aggression when it came to getting his attention.

The knock on the door was loud. Cartman complaining about having to get up as he approached the door was even louder. He flung the door open, and was surprised to find Wendy standing at the doorstep.

"The hell are you doing here?" he asked.

Wendy smirked. "Actually, I came to get your opinion on something."

Cartman blinked. He was too surprised by Wendy's politeness to think of a snappy comeback. "Um, okay," he said.

Wendy unzipped her coat, revealing the 'I Love Jewish Boys' shirt she was wearing underneath. Cartman scowled at the mere sight of it.

"What do you think I look better in?" Wendy asked. "This, or this?"

Wendy slowly lifted her shirt, making Cartman's eyes bug out in shock. That is, of course, until he realized Wendy was wearing a second pro-Jew shirt underneath of the first one.

"Neither!" Cartman spat hatefully. "Since when do you need my opinion on stupid Jew fashion?"

Not wanting to embarrass herself in Cartman's presence again, Wendy had already prepared an answer for that question.

"Because you have authority."

It made no sense, but Cartman's massive ego was sure to buy into it.

"Yes I do, but my authoritah doesn't extend to crap like this. Go ask your stupid boyfriend."

Wendy smiled. She took a mental note of Cartman's exasperated facial expression, and his remarks about her not looking good in either 'stupid Jew' shirt. It was time to ask the big question.

"Are you jealous?"

Cartman rolled his eyes. "Excuse me while I puke."

He attempted to close the door in the girl's face at that point, but Wendy wouldn't have it. She was far too close to the truth now, one way or another. Cartman threatening to puke wasn't a direct 'No' reply to her question, and Wendy knew from past experience with Stan just how romantic a boy vomiting over you could be. She managed to slip a portion of her slender body inside the Cartman's living room.

"Let me in!" Wendy demanded.

"Why?!"

"It's cold out, asshole!"

"You're the one walking around in shirts!" Cartman argued.

Wendy's foot rose up from the living room carpet, kicking Cartman in the shin. His hands left the door to clutch at his injured leg, allowing Wendy to enter the house and close the door from the inside. Once recovered from the kick, Cartman glared at the girl who was now making herself comfortable by sitting on the living room couch and petting the family cat.

"Congratulations on breaking into my house," Cartman complimented while walking toward the telephone inside the kitchen. "Wait right there while I call the police and have you arrested."

Wendy frowned. "First of all, this is your mother's house. And secondly, if you do call them, I'll just say you're my abusive boyfriend and have you arrested for assault."

"What?! But I didn't do crap!"

Wendy shrugged. "All it takes is a little crying and some heavy eyeshadow. I have my makeup with me and I usually get starring roles in our school theater productions. Do you really want to try me on this?"

Cartman grumbled and hung up the phone.

"Did Kyle put you up to this?"

Wendy ceased petting Mister Kitty. "Huh?"

"He did, didn't he? He wants to rub it in that he has a date for the dance and I don't. Well you go tell your little boyfriend that I will have a date before this is over! Kenny's little vegetable sister isn't leaving that hospital, and Stan and Kahl are gonna owe me big!"

Wendy stood up from the couch. "Kyle didn't put me up to anything. And just because Katie's in a coma doesn't mean anything. You're both still dateless until you find somebody, which you won't!"

"I will too!"

"Who?" Wendy challenged. "You've asked out every girl in school!" she reminded him.

Cartman opened his mouth to respond, but stopped himself when he thought about Wendy's words.

"...That's it," he said quietly, as though the secret to life itself had just dawned on him.

"What's it?" Wendy asked.

Cartman smirked. "Oh, you really messed up now, ho! I'm gonna win the bet!"

Before Wendy could ask what he meant, Cartman was already out the door, running off to God knows where. She ran up to the still-opened door.

"Wait!" Wendy shouted. She'd barely gotten anywhere reading his possibly jealous but also possibly just anti-Semitic body language.

But Cartman was long gone.

"Oh goddammit!" Wendy said in a tone similar to Cartman's when one of his many schemes failed.

"Are you sure you took a shower before you came over? You still smell like crap."

"Yes Cartman," an annoyed Kenny said.

Kenny really had showered, but probably not well enough. After spending so much time in the hospital, one was bound to stink more than usual.

"Is your sister gettin' any better?" Butters asked.

"No" Kenny said sadly. "But our parents finally said to go home. Gotta go to school and shit, you know?"

Cartman raised an eyebrow, concerned. "Token didn't leave too did he?"

"No. He's still there with her."

"Yes!" Cartman exclaimed.

Kenny glared at his fat friend. "Cartman, I know you're happy Katie's in a coma. I fucking hate your uncaring fat ass, and the only reason I'm helping you is because it fucks over Stan."

"Fellas? D-do I really have to wear this thing?" Butters asked.

"Yes!" Cartman insisted. "You owe me Butters. Katie stopped thinking you and Token were fags. You totally screwed me over."

Butters frowned. "Gosh, I'm sorry Eric. It's just that this bra feels funny."

Butters was dolled up quite nicely: A pink, form-fitting sequined dress that went down to his mid-thighs, a bra, thong underwear, silk stalkings, a frizzy blonde wig that made Kenny long for Bebe, and platform shoes. The clothes were a combination of Katie's belongings, Kenny's mom's old clothes, and good will items.

"Ah, now that's a slutty girlfriend," Kenny said, giving Butters his thumbs up of approval after looking him over.

Butters smiled. "You mean it?"

"Yeah, I'd buy you as a chick," Kenny admitted. "...Which is kind of a scary thought."

Cartman shrugged. "As long as he fools Kyle and Stan. Now, what's your new name, Butters?"

Butters sighed. He was still having trouble keeping the back story Cartman had invented for his girl character straight. "S-Sally?" he guessed.

"No! Sally is your older sister who you hate, asshole! Your name is Victoria!"

Butters nodded. "Victoria. Got it."

"What's your favorite thing in the whole wide world?" Cartman asked, continuing to drill the background into Butters' head.

"Your weiner?"

Cartman smiled. "Right."

Kenny rolled his eyes at that one.

"Favorite food?"

"Salad."

"Favorite dessert?"

"Ice cream."

"What are your parents like?"

"M-mom and dad met each other at the circus. Mom was the bearded lady and daddy was the clown. They moved to South Park after dad got fired for gettin' drunk and crashing that little clown car. It killed six people, and the guilt just made daddy's drinking problem worse. Mom's sayin' she's gonna leave him again, but she never does. They're both still unemployed since we just moved to town. I got a job at Happy Burger to help them pay bills, b-but no matter what I do they still love my stupid older sister more!"

Kenny's eyebrows rose questioningly as he listened to the odd history of this character. He looked over at a smiling Cartman and expressed the thought on his mind..

"What the FUCK is wrong with you?!"

"The back story needs to be elaborate or no one's gonna buy it!" Cartman argued.

"This better work dude."

"It will work Kenny. You'll see. I'll have my money, and you'll have your revenge on Stan by helping me get my money."

"Hey fellas, wh-what'll I have?" Butters asked.

"Probably an identity crisis," Kenny guessed.

"Yippie!"

To Be Continued