Warning: AU –Second World War
M-Rated!Contains coarse language, violent imaginary related to the context of war, and sex.
I do not own South Park. I do not own anything. I wish I was that f* genius!
Herr Cartman and Stan chatted for a while longer.
Their conversation became increasingly businesslike, as details about the purchase of Jews became their subject. Meanwhile, Clyde, Butters and Tweek were playing cards and became increasingly loud, due to their enthusiasm. Bebe, on the other side, was feeling rather bored. She noticed Kyle was silently following the boys' game (or at least, it looked like it, since he was actually immersed in Herr Cartman and Stan's conversation). She smiled happily and soon was walking graciously over to him with two glasses of whiskey.
"You played wonderfully again." She kindly complimented and he stood up in a polite gesture.
"Thank you." He replied with a sincere smile.
"Here. You deserve a drink." Bebe said while she handled him a glass, which he accepted. "Come sit with me." The girl invited, pointing to the other couch with her head. Kyle hesitated for a second, but smiled in agreement and followed her.
"Honestly, Cartman. You cannot expect anybody to pay the same price for children as adults…Cartman?" Stan called out a bit confused, when he realized the fat Nazi wasn't listening to him. He noticed the SS's attention was elsewhere and followed his gaze's direction. Stan saw Bebe and Kyle were sitting on the opposite couch, engaged in a conversation. Herr Cartman was clearly distracted by them and Stan read some irritation on the SS's face. "Cartman?" Stan cautiously called again, hiding an amused chuckle.
"Uh?…Oh, sorry. I got distracted." Herr Cartman said, sounding like if he had just woken up from some daydream.
"It's okay." Stan dismissed with a smile. "As I was saying, children make less expenses, therefore their price should be inferior…" Stan stopped again and had the urge to sigh exasperated. The fat Nazi was again distracted by the other two and scowled when Bebe laughed at something Kyle had said. Stan resisted the urge of pinching the bridge of his nose. Herr Cartman was obviously jealous.
"She's very pretty." Stan said knowingly, hiding some of his impatience.
"Who?" Herr Cartman turned to stare at him a bit confused. "Oh yeah, she's truly… hot." Herr Cartman suddenly said, realizing he had been staring at Kyle for too long. Luckily for him, the other teenager misunderstood his interest for the blond girl. Yet, his words had come out too quickly, so it sounded fake and forced. Stan stared a bit perplexed but smiled in recognition. After all, Bebe was Clyde's girlfriend. He figured out Herr Cartman didn't want his crush for the blonde to be exposed. "I must disagree with you about the Jewish children, though." Herr Cartman said nonchalantly, to cover up his repetitive distraction. "You do realize children's expenses are actually equal as adult's. They eat the same amounts of food as adults eat, and use the exact same facilities as grown-ups, but they produce less. Therefore, children are more expensive, which means, their price should be higher."
"What?! But that doesn't even make sense! It's exactly because they are giving you setbacks that they should be cheaper! They are less productive to you, so they are less valuable!" Stan argued outraged.
"You're breaking my balls, Stan." The fat Nazi replied calmly. There was another giggle coming from Bebe. "Children are more expensive, therefore the extra costs have to be compensated." Then a giggle came from Kyle. Herr Cartman could feel the fire burn up to his head and had enough. He couldn't think properly like this. "Kalh! Get your Jewish ass right here!" The fat Nazi shouted. Kyle, Bebe and Stan, all looked startled at him. The redhead gave him an annoyed look, but obeyed. "Get me that sheet with the statistics of labor per age!"
"Statistics of labor per age?" Kyle questioned, not understanding what the fat Nazi wanted.
"The one where you can see in which ages Jews are more productive!" He impatiently explained. "Bring it to me, now!" Kyle gave the Nazi a bothered look but followed his order right away. He was back in a short while, gave Herr Cartman the paper and was already walking in Bebe's direction when the fat Nazi called him again. "You stay here." He patted the empty space on the couch right next to him. "I might need you here to clarify some matters."
"Why don't you guys leave that stuff for another day?" Bebe asked from her couch. "Come on, this is a soiree. We are supposed to have fun, not discuss economics."
"We are not discussing economics! This is serious business!" Herr Cartman replied irritated.
"I think she has a point." Kyle muttered upset, but the angered Nazi heard him.
"Nobody asked your opinion, Jew!" Herr Cartman spat and Kyle gave him an incensed look. Stan, stared at the two of them, worried this would escalate. It became obvious to him they were both interested in Bebe and the dark haired boy feared Herr Cartman would do something to his best friend. So he decided to intervene.
"Actually, I agree with Bebe. Let's talk about this better in the morning." Stan said in a diplomatic manner. Herr Cartman looked at him thoughtfully and then nodded with a smile.
"Sure, it can wait for tomorrow." The fat Nazi said in a fake sweet tone, so Bebe rolled her eyes upset. He gave the paper back to Kyle, who stood up, ready to leave the room. "Kalh, bring the box. It's on my desk, third drawer." He said in a whisper and the redhead nodded.
…
"Ah! Finally, the drugs!" Clyde happily announced when Kyle entered the room with the box. Herr Cartman patted on the couch again, instructing the redhead to sit down next to him again.
"Drugs? You mean Panzerschokolade*?" Stan asked surprised, not truly excited with the idea of experiencing drugs.
"Of course not! That's soldiers' shit. What I have is way more enhancing." Herr Cartman opened the box revealing the pipes and dry plant. The guys keenly gathered around Herr Cartman. "Opium."
"Opium?! I thought its trade was forbidden." Stan replied shocked.
"It is. But, let's say I have my resources." The fat Nazi said with a wink, clearly referring to the smuggling market. "I'm afraid I don't have enough pipes for everybody. Clyde, Bebe, if you don't mind sharing." He kindly said while he handled the brown haired boy their pipe. He turned to Kyle and practically whispered in his ear. "We are sharing too." Stan saw the gesture and found it a bit peculiar, but didn't think further than that. He was instead worried with the pipe and drug he was holding in his hands.
"I don't know…I'm not really into this kind of stuff." Stan hesitantly said.
"Don't be a wuss! Everybody likes it. Tweek, Butters, even the Jew!" Herr Cartman stated casually while he lighted up his pipe. Stan stared wide eyed at Kyle who blushed embarrassed and avoided his friend's eyes. Herr Cartman took a few puffs and gave him the pipe. Kyle hesitated, feeling all at the sudden guilty under his best friend's gaze. "Come on, Jew. You're not having nightmares every time." Herr Cartman insisted, referring to the former soiree.
Kyle, knowing the fat Nazi wouldn't give him the choice, sighed and did his best to ignore Stan's shocked gaze. The redhead filled his lungs with smoke and slowly released it. He returned the pipe to the Nazi and looked instantly more relaxed. Stan stared at his friend with widened eyes and open mouth. Kyle was the last person he would imagine doing drugs.
The dark haired boy nervously looked around and everybody else had already surrendered into the opium's soothing powers. He stared for a long while at his pipe and then his gaze went back to Kyle. The redhead was staring back at him, his eyes slightly unfocused. He gave a small encouraging nod with his head, while a soft smile hung on his lips. Stan hesitated but considered. Perhaps the drug was indeed enjoyable. Trusting Kyle, he decided to take the chance and took a smoke. He chocked in the beginning, but continued inhaling the drug until he could feel its first effects on his brains. There was a pleasant tingling spreading throughout his whole body. His senses grew sharper, while his body grew number. He smiled positively surprised at the pleasant sensation but startled at a sudden horrible scream in the room.
"Aaaaarg! It's too much pressure!" Tweek yelled, holding his pipe between his fingers. Suddenly his body stiffened completely like a wooden plank and he fell unconscious, with his back on the floor. Butters, who sat next to Tweek, giggled in his drugged state of mind.
"Oh my God!" Stan shouted in a slurry voice. "Is he dead?"
"No." Herr Cartman said with a chuckle. "I don't know why, but opium always has that effect on him."
Stan found it difficult to think if he found it amusing or not. Actually he found thinking quite hard and chuckled as the thought. Because, right now, he didn't really care. He was enjoying the strange effects of the drug and slowly let himself sink in a fantastic world of bright colors and lazy sensations.
…
Stan had dozed for a while and woke up feeling wonderfully lazy. His mind was still relaxed and he smiled happily for not feeling any kind of worries. He lifted his head in curiosity, when he heard whispers close by. He furrowed his brow in confusion. Sitting close to him were Herr Cartman and Kyle. They were talking very low, so he could not make out their words. But what his slowed mind thought odd, was the fact Kyle's head was resting on the fat Nazi's lap. And Herr Cartman was playing with the Jew's red curls. There was a particularly tender look on the SS's face that Stan somehow didn't think it fit him. Just like the way his hand moved gently on the redhead's curls, brushing his fingers on the Jew's forehead once in a while. Stan shook his head and tried to force his sluggish mind to think again. A strange feeling was growing in his stomach. There was a thought in the back of his head telling him there was something very off in this situation. Stan redirected his hazily gaze to his best friend's face. Kyle looked completely relaxed. His face was peaceful and, although his eyes were open and he was talking, he looked more asleep than awake. A new thought managed to emerge from Stan's lazy mind and told him this was not normal for Kyle. He strained his ears and cursed for their voices being so low.
"You're meh Jew." He finally discerned Herr Carman's soft voice.
He watched Kyle's lips draw a smile. Stan knew this wasn't the reaction he would have. His brain was starting to wake up and told him, Kyle should be horrified by these words. The unpleasant feeling in his stomach grew worse, while the dark haired boy gradually woke up from his somnolent state. The opium effects were clearly wearing of, and as they did, troubling thoughts invaded his mind. Flashes of hours ago returned to him. Herr Cartman's annoyance towards Kyle and Bebe's interaction. The way the SS officer had patted the seat next to him, so Kyle could sit there. Close to him. The way the fat Nazi had smiled while Kyle played the violin. The way he had whispered in his ear. Stan's heart started pumping faster when he realized, the fat Nazi wasn't jealous about Bebe, but about Kyle. His stomach revolved with the realization Herr Cartman liked Kyle. And his friend was too drugged to notice what was going on. He had to help Kyle, otherwise the fat Nazi could try and…
"Bluargh!" Stan suddenly threw up.
"Stan? Dude, what's up?" Herr Cartman asked when he heard the sound. "Shit!"
"Oug…I'm sorry." Stan apologized embarrassed, but still horrified by the whole idea. He had to save his friend from the SS's clutches. "I have a weak stomach."
"Kalh, better get a bucket and clean-up that shit." Herr Cartman said, while he moved his legs, forcing Kyle to come out of his sleepy state.
"Are you sick?" Kyle asked worriedly, as he sat up and saw Stan's vomit. He noticed right away how pale his best friend looked. Stan merely nodded.
"Come on, I'll help you go to the toilet." Kyle said while he headed to his friend and helped him stand up."
"Ehm…I'll make him a tea." Herr Cartman said a bit disconcerted about the situation. "Don't forget about the bucket."
"Yeah, yeah." Kyle said while he exited the room, Stan leaning on him.
"Kyle. I need to tell you something important." Stan said when they were alone and far away enough from the fat Nazi. "Herr Cartman….The guy likes you!"
"Yeah, know." Kyle calmly answered.
"No! You don't understand…. He likes you in a romantic manner!" Stan said with horror. The redhead grimaced upset his friend had figured out this.
"Stan, I know that." Kyle said in an oddly serene voice. Stand halted and turned to face his friend. His expression was of extreme concern.
"You know? But…how can you live like this? Before you know it, the guy will try and make…make out with you!" Stan said feeling repulsed. There was a heavy silence and Stan noticed Kyle was becoming red. "Kyle?"
"We already…do it." The redhead dryly admitted. "In a regular basis." Stan stared a few second paralyzed as his friend's words sunk in.
"Bluargh!" Kyle jumped back when Stan vomited for a second time. He stared at the Jew horrorstruck. "He rapes you?"
"No! No it's nothing like that!" Kyle nervously tried to explain, while he felt all the blood raise to his face. "I…I actually like it." This time he didn't even flinch when Stan threw up another great wave of vomit. There was a lot of explanation to be done.
A/N
*Panzerschokolade ("tank chocolate"). It was a drug used during the World War II. It was a methamphetamine compound launched onto the market in 1938. In September 1939, the drug was tested on university students, who were suddenly capable of impressive productivity despite being short on sleep. Army physiologist Otto Ranke saw in it a true miracle drug that could keep tired pilots alert and an entire army euphoric. It was the ideal war drug.
From that point on, the Wehrmacht, Germany's World War II army, distributed millions of the tablets to soldiers on the front, who soon dubbed the stimulant "Panzerschokolade". British newspapers reported that German soldiers were using a "miracle pill."
But, as enticing as the drug was, its long-term effects on the human body were just as devastating. Short rest periods weren't enough to make up for long stretches of wakefulness, and the soldiers quickly became addicted to the stimulant. And with addiction came sweating, dizziness, depression and hallucinations. There were soldiers who died of heart failure and others who shot themselves during psychotic phases.
