Pointless Noize: Yes, it is true, I've actually updated. Sorry 'bout the wait. Oh, and there's a subtle hint of slash in this chapter. And by subtle, I mean screamingly obvious. If you don't like slash, don't review and say "Ew, that's nasty," because you have been warned. Once again, sorry about the wait. Review and I'll write faster. That being said, enjoy!
Disclaimer: Nope, I still don't own South Park. Go figure.
"Ow."
Kenny hit the ground as he regained consciousness. Normally this didn't hurt too bad, but unfortunately for him, he happened to land on Butters' couch, right when Cartman was coming out of the kitchen. Cartman didn't see him, and he plopped his fat rear end right on poor Kenny's body. Kenny groaned from the weight.
Kyle glanced up from the TV, and frowned at Cartman. "Hey! Get up, fatass, before Kenny dies again!"
It took Catman a few seconds to realize what Kyle meant. When he did, he quickly rolled off of the body beneath him, and Kenny gasped for breathe.
"You…fat fuck…" Kenny coughed out. Cartman grabbed a popcorn bowl and slammed it over Kenny's head.
"Ay! Don't call me fat, bitch! I do what I want, bitch!" Luckily, the bowl was plastic, so Kenny didn't die. It did succeed in giving him a nice throbbing headache, though.
"Aw, come on, fellas, don't fight! My parents will be awful mad if they see you fighting." Butters glanced nervously at the door, as if expecting his parents to walk in right at that very moment.
"Don't be such a pussy, Butters," retorted Stan.
"Yeah," said Kyle, "besides, we should probably get going. We have a lot of cookies to sell."
Kenny grinned. "Not as many as you think. I managed to unload a few hundred boxes in heaven."
The boys stared at him. "Really?" Kyle asked, "To who?"
"I ran into Saddam Hussein up there, and I convinced him to buy 1,000 boxes." Kenny's voice (however muffled it was) was filled with pride. Cartman snorted, ruining his happy moment.
"You're acting like it was hard or something. I could do that too, you know."
"Whatever, Cartman. Great job, Kenny! We probably won't have to sell any boxes now!" said a happy Kyle. He really didn't want to walk around in that uniform.
"Yeah, whatever," Cartman said, placing his feet up on Butters' coffee table and relaxing in the couch.
"So what do you guys wanna--" started Stan, but he was cut off by the doorbell. Butters quickly ran over to answer it; he mustn't be rude and keep his visitors waiting. He opened the door and even from the living room, the boys could here Wendy, Bebe, and three other girls cry in singsong voices, " Would you like to buy some cookies?"
Butters glanced back into the living room before replying, "Uh, n-no thanks, ladies, we're selling some of our own, s-so no."
Bebe blinked stupidly, and responded, "Why would you be in the Girl Scouts? You are a guy, right?"
Butters blushed bright red, but was saved the embarrassment of answering as the other boys came over. Immediately, Wendy's mouth dropped.
"S-Stan! Oh God! Y-You're gay, aren't you!"
"No, Wendy, I--"
"It's Kyle, isn't it! Nonononono, this isn't fair!" she cried. This time it was Stan and Kyle's turn to blush. Cartman snickered behind them, and nudged Kenny. The Blonde, however, was too busy looking at his classmates in skirts to respond.
"No, Wendy, Cartman made us sign up. I'm not gay," Stan quickly explained.
"That's not what you told me…" muttered Kyle. Luckily, no one heard him.
"Okay, so you're all a bunch of Girl Scouts. So, um, how many cookies did you guys sell?" asked Chelsea.
Cartman smiled proudly and said, "I sold 1,000 boxes." He waited for the girls to gasp in shock, or at least congratulate him on his sale. To his surprise, they all started to giggle.
"That's it? We've sold, what, up to about 1, 356 by now. Right, Wendy?" asked Katie. Wendy nodded, still staring warily at Stan and Kyle. The boys stared in shock.
"You guys must really suck at selling stuff," Katie continued, "I mean, damn…"
Cartman's face was red with anger at this point. He was shaking with rage and Kyle knew what was going to happen, He pulled Stan and Kenny back just as Cartman lost it.
"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN, "THAT'S IT"! WE SOLD 1,000 FUCKING BOXES OF COOKIES! YOU'RE A BUNCH OF FUCKING WHORES, AND WE WILL BEAT YOUR SORRY ASSES! I BET WE SELL OVER 1,500 GODDAMN COOKIES!"
Wendy fumed and yelled back at Cartman, "FINE! We'll take that wager! But if you don't sell over 1,500 boxes of cookies, then you have to, um, be our slaves…yeah, that's good…for a month!"
"And if we do sell over 1,500 boxes of cookies, then you have to be our slaves! Deal?" Cartman stuck out a pudgy hand.
Wendy grabbed it and shook hard. "Deal." She let go of his hand and spun around, her friends following suit. They all stormed off, presumably to continue selling cookies.
Cartman gave them a farewell glare before turning to face his friends. Butters was is shock from Cartman's forceful yelling, and was gripping onto Kenny. Kyle stared angrily at Cartman, who had, once again, succeeded in getting them into a whole mess of trouble.
"Nice going, dumb fuck, now we have another problem."
"Yeah," Stan added, "It's just our luck that Wendy shows up when he's on his period." Cartman frowned.
"Shut the fuck up you guys, seriously."
Kenny rolled his eyes. "Whatever, fatass. Hey! Isn't that Craig?"
It was indeed Craig. Him, Tweek, and Token ran over, though the boys weren't too happy about being seen in skirts by their classmates.
"Hey, what's up," Stan asked, trying to act casual while still trying to keep his skirt to stay down right. Craig grinned.
"We heard Cartman yelling, and, well…"
Kyle blinked and prompted them to go on. "Well what?" Craig grinned again.
"We want to help."
More slash? More not-slash? Midget clowns? C'mon people, feedback...
