A/N: I'm gonna put in more slash hintage just because…. I can! Ha… Anyway, the problem becomes evident in this chappy. I chopped a good 12-13 pages off of three separate chappies to make this, including a pointless sidetrack where Kenny's slutty ho-bitch ex girlfriend pointlessly walks in.
Huh.
It was pointless, but I'll try and work in some of the slash hintage and funny one-liners in.
"Cartman? What the hell do you want, fatass?" Kyle asked, opening the door to his house.
"Kyle, can I come in?" Cartman sighed, staring down at his black shoes. He was dressed for church, but looked less than pleased that he had to go. He chewed at his lip, making Kyle a little worried that something was up, as Cartman hadn't called him a 'dumb Jew' yet.
"No, dude. I gotta go to the Synagogue. Why aren't you at church?"
"Fuck church." Cartman stepped closer to Kyle, frowning up at him. "And fuck the synagogue. Kyle, I wanna talk to you."
"Dude-" Kyle could do nothing but open and close his mouth for a while, at a loss for words. Cartman hardly ever showed anything but hate towards him, and even when he didn't, his kindness was artificial or fake.
"Shut up! Now, how can someone stop doing something that they don't want to do but can't resist doing?"
"What? Cartman, you're not making any sense. What are you talking about? What do you want to stop doing?" Kyle failed miserably at hiding his annoyance.
"I can't say. But it's bad."
"I can't help you if you don't tell me, fatass!"
Sighing, Cartman rolled up the sleeve of his long dress shirt for church. He bit his lip, keeping his gaze on the deep green grass of the Broflovski's lawn. Already he was regretting going to Kyle for help. Why didn't he go tell Stan? Even Kenny would understand more than Kyle. Kenny was in the same boat, with a shitty family life and low morals, and no one to teach him right from wrong. He had always figured that Stan and Kyle were kind to everyone because they were taught to be so, or because they had some parents that cared. Cartman might have been nicer if his mother was around once in a while, and Kenny might have been less perverted if his father had hidden his porno mags better.
Although he resented Kyle for having a mom, dad, and a little brother, he really never minded him all that much. None of the guys he minded, even though he regularly spat hateful words at all of them. He mocked Kyle for anything and everything, he teased Stan about having a girlfriend, and he ripped on Kenny about being poor. He respected them for tolerating his antics, all of which he was starting to regret. It really surprised him that only Kenny kicked his ass anymore, and did a poor job doing so. The only person who actually seemed to really hate him was Butters, and, after a night of really thinking about it, he couldn't blame him.
"Holy shit, dude!" Kyle yelled, gaping at the self-inflicted scratches all the way up Cartman's forearm. "What the fuck did you do that for!?"
"Goddamn it, Kyle, it doesn't matter why! Just help me stop!"
"OK, dude. Just a minute." Kyle slammed the door, and Cartman was almost sure Kyle actually looked worried. At what, he couldn't say.
He shuffled his feet, sighed, and put his shirt sleeve back down. Whatever Kyle was doing seemed to take hours, only increased by his anxiety. Finally Kyle reappeared at the door, looking down at him. Cartman hated when he did that, and backed out of Kyle's long distorted shadow.
"Kenny's coming over."
"Kenny? Why?"
"Dude, you weren't at lunch yesterday. It was pretty deep, what Kenny said about Stan, Butters, and me."
"Yeah, right. Kenny couldn't be deep if.. If…" Cartman searched for a clever metaphor. "Um.. If he was in a huge ass cave! Or a whore!"
"You'll see." Kyle grinned, waving at Kenny, limping slowly down the street. Kenny flipped him off with the hand that wasn't clutching a coffee cup and a cigarette.
Kenny looked disgruntled, a look he rarely wore. Of course, Kenny was never a morning person. He stopped in front of Kyle's house, standing on the street. As he glanced from Kyle to Cartman, who both watched him intently, he alternated between drinking coffee and puffing on the cigarette. Like Stan, he only smoked when he was really pissed off, which disappointed Kyle a little. Finally Kenny tossed the butt of the cigarette on the ground and started towards the two. "You fucking woke me up, you motherfucker." Kenny glared up at Kyle as he hobbled closer, but didn't pose much of a threat. Kyle was easily a foot taller, and won the stare down taking place. "What the fuck do you assholes want, anyways?"
"Geez, Kenny, you don't have to go Cartman on us!" Kyle laughed, prompting Cartman to punch his arm in anger and Kenny to smirk a little.
"Sorry," Kenny laughed. "Now, seriously. This better be really fucking important." As he continued staring up at Kyle, his look turned cross again.
"It is." Kyle turned and led the two up the stairs of his house. He pushed open the door of his room and let Cartman and Kenny in before him.
Kenny glance around Kyle's room, wishing he had one similar. It was neat and tidy, with every piece of furniture aligned perfectly. The few bits of junk and little trinkets he had were even setting proudly on his dresser, in a perfect line. If everything in his room was white, it could have been a room in a psychiatric hospital.
Kyle pulled out the chair tucked nicely in into his desk and placed it by the bed. Pointing at it, he ordered Kenny to sit. "Cartman, lay down on my bed. If you mess it up, I swear, I'll kill you."
"What are you trying to prove, Kyle?" Cartman snorted, obeying Kyle by flouncing down on the bed. He smiled at Kyle gritting his teeth.
"Yeah!" Kenny added, a little slow to react. He turned to glare up at Kyle.
"Nothing." Kyle sat on top of his desk, watching Kenny and Cartman staring at him from across the room. "Well? Cartman?"
"Ok, ok…" Cartman pulled up the silky material of his dress shirt's sleeve, showing Kenny his left arm.
"Whoa… Dude." Kenny sniffed, then leaned back on the chair. After drinking the last measly sip of cold coffee he had, he held the cup out to Kyle. "Fill that up, asshole."
Annoyed, Kyle hopped off his desk and snatched the cup. He looked down at Kenny, who held up two fingers, indicating that he wanted two sugars.
"AY! Get me some coffee, too, Jew!"
"Fuck you," Kyle growled as he stepped out and closed the door behind him.
"Well, Cartman, why do you do it?" Kenny started.
"Do what?"
Kenny pointed to Cartman's arm. "That."
"Well, I have my reasons, Blondie!"
Smiling, Kenny crossed his own scarred arms across his narrow ribs. "Okay… why do you call us all names, then?"
"No reason…"
"Sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure, Kenny!"
"I'm back," Kyle said flatly, pushing his door open with a bony shoulder blade. In each hand he held a coffee cup. One was cracked and plain white, obviously Kenny's, and the other was dark blue, with the words, "Home Economics MATTERS!" printed in plain text on one side. He passed the white one to Kenny and set the blue one down on his bedside table for Cartman. "Anything else?"
"No," both Kenny and Cartman answered.
"Good." After Kyle resumed his position nestled on his neat desk, Kenny looked over at Cartman again.
"You're sure you don't have a reason for calling us all names?"
"I already said yes, Kenny! What the fuck!?" Cartman took his turn glaring angrily at Kenny.
"Just making sure. Now, why do you cut yourself?"
As Cartman thought of an answer that wouldn't trap him in a corner, Kenny downed the coffee.
"Kenny! I made that coffee with precision and care… and you drink it all in one sip!? I put-"
"Kyle, shut your stupid mouth," Cartman commanded, which struck Kenny and Kyle dumb and then made them nearly piss themselves laughing. "AY! I have severe emotional trauma going on here!"
Kenny sat back up from his position doubled over on the chair. He looked somewhat professional. "Well?"
"Uh, well, I don't got a fucking dad! Remember?"
"No, you don't have a mom."
"That, too…"
"Is another reason because we make fun of your fat ass?"
"Kenny!"
"Well?"
"Um, yes. And you guys never even pretended to like me…" Cartman bit his lip, and across the room Kyle raised a surprised eyebrow.
"Cartman, you didn't pretend to like us."
"AY! This is about me, Kenny!"
"OK. Yeah. You really like attention. Without attention, you don't feel loved and, us, we never paid much attention to you."
"What the hell? Now you're telling me what I like and how I feel? Kenny I swear, I-" Cartman stood up, waving a threatening fist in Kenny's face.
"Goddamn it, Cartman! I'm trying to fucking help you. Now sit your fat ass down and listen." Only when Cartman obeyed did Kenny continue. "Anyway, you think that cutting yourself gets you attention, but your mom doesn't notice and we 'wouldn't care.'"
"Kenny, what are-"
"So is Kenny right?" Kyle asked eagerly, growing a bit interested in the debate happening between his friends.
"Uh…"
"Kyle, gimme something to write on, so I can look even more professional."
Kyle tossed one of his readily available notepads at Kenny, then followed with a pen. Kenny jotted down some things with the pen, his morning stupor smudging the notes terribly. "Shit…" As he tried to salvage the notes, he rubbed them even more all over the paper. "Fucking pen…" After giving up on the words that now resembled a watercolor ocean, he glanced up at Cartman.
The teenager on the bed was staring, pissed off, at Kyle, who glared back. Kenny's laughter broke the tension.
"I love you guys. I really do."
Stan pinned the picture up on the wall next to his bed and stared up at it. It was an ugly little thing, but kept it because Wendy had made him. Even looking at it made him recall that night's events, as odd as they were.
He stood there, a bit stupidly so, with his arm awkwardly around Wendy. He had his weight balanced on one foot, and the other hand in the pocket of the Ugliest Dress Pants in the World. To match the Ugliest Dress Pants in the world, his mom had made him wear the Ugliest Dress Shirt in the World. His black hair was slicked back, and looked terrible, as no hats were allowed, being considered 'too casual.' He honestly didn't see how half the girls in the entire town could think he was cute. He quickly switched his gaze to the black haired beauty, and felt turned on all over again.
The previous year, for their last year as middle schoolers, their parents forced them all to dress up nice and go to the middle school gym for three hours of uncomfortable stuffiness and graceless slow dances. Stan had gotten an instant erection at Wendy's super short dress and had excused himself to go jack off in the bathroom. Also in the bathroom taking care of pesky hardons he'd seen Butters, Clyde, Tweek, and Kyle. The memory itself made him laugh a little, remembering everyone uncomfortably looking around as they jacked it. Kenny had walked in with Cartman and they both almost died laughing.
He smiled and slid his hand down his pants, then fell asleep that way.
For some reason, Butters had joined Kenny in moping around in the corner.
"What is with you guys?" Stan asked, annoyed, as the group gathered around the two in the lobby.
"N-nothing', Stan," Butters mumbled into his knees.
"Kyle, do you know?" Stan glanced toward Kyle, next to him.
"They had a party last night and now they're paying for it."
"Why didn't you invite me?"
"I d-did." Butters raised a sleepy head, looking up at the black-haired teen in front of him. His eyes were puffy and red-rimmed. "B-but your mom said you was doin' your huh-homework."
"Yeah…"
"K-Kenny and Kyle could actually come, though."
Kyle grinned at Stan as his friend glared at him. "I didn't stay long…" he said in his own defense.
"Y-you're goddamn right you didn't stay l-long! You came and saw some g-girls you didn't like and l-left!"
"Sorry… but my mom won't let me stay at wild parties all night like Kenny's parents."
"It w-wasn't that wild…" Butters admitted, then remembered all the sex that had been going on. "Uh, except for the sex."
"There was sex!?" Stan and Kyle yelled together, which drew some curious eyes.
"Yessiree!" Kenny answered cheerily, struggling against gravity to get up and failing.
"Son of a bitch! Butters, you're telling me that I could've been at your house boning actual chicks instead of falling asleep jacking off to some old picture!?" Stan reasoned angrily.
"Again?" Butters, Kyle, and Kenny all chorused, amazed.
"Ha ha, funny." Stan rolled his hazel eyes.
"Dude… help me up," Kenny ordered Kyle, who held his arm out for Kenny to grab on to. Kyle lifted Kenny up almost effortlessly. "Thanks."
"Was the party that good, Kenny?"
"It was pretty good." Kenny leaned against the wall to support the weight of his body thathis legs, in their current hungover state,could barely support.
"Was it really good?"
"I've been to better parties, where I've actually gotten laid."
"Wait…" Kyle interrupted. "You mean… you, Kenny, the king o f sex at a ridiculously young age, didn't get laid?" They all gasped when Kenny shook his head no.
"Come on… I gotta wake up. Let's go play that gay British game," Kenny said as he started towards the open gym doors.
"You mean Pickle ball?" Stan clarified.
"Whatever. Me and Butters verses you and Kyle!" Kenny ran into the gym, closely followed by Butters, Stan, and Kyle.
"S-sorry I'm so b-bad, Kenny," Butters apologized dismally.
"Naw, it's not your fault. Stan's just good at every sport ever invented," Kenny told Butters, glaring playfully at Stan.
"Hey, I'm bad at soccer," Stan reminded them.
"You suck, man," Kenny laughed, punching Stan's arm lightly.
"What?"
"Nothing. All that Pickle ball got me thinking…" Kenny turned to rush down the hallway towards something obviously important.
"Wh-where are you goin'?" When Kenny kept on walking, the other three he had left behind followed him to the art room. He waited outside the door, ignoring questions thrown at him, until the bell rang only a minute later and the Art Club's members walked out. The three boys watched Kenny tap a pretty sophomore girl on the shoulder and ask her out. After she nodded yes, embarrassed, she hurried to her next class.
"Whoa, dude," Kyle whispered to Stan as the girl shouldered past them. "She is fine."
Stan agreed, but thought, in the back of his mind, of Kyle. You are much finer, Kyle. He drove the thought even farther back in his head, but it roared back with a ferocity. Stan liked Kyle, but wasn't sure how to tell him yet. He had a feeling that Kyle might have caught on, and hoped the opposite. Knowing Kyle's family's take on anything even slightly different from the normal and predictable, he figured that the results would be disastrous. He wasn't even sure how much he liked Kyle. Maybe he didn't like him at all. You don't like guys, you fucking homo. Especially not Kyle. Not Kyle.
"Well?" Kenny was staring at Stan, who had a feeling that he'd missed something important
"What?"
"I said, don't you think she's pretty?"
"What?" Stan thought of Kenny's many other girlfriends, and he'd never called any of them 'pretty.' Just 'a sweet piece of ass' or 'hot,' but never pretty. For that reason, most girlfriends dumped him within minutes.
"Goddamn it, Stan! If you're not gonna waste the first ten minutes of class with me, then leave!"
"You said she was pretty… you've never called anyone pretty before…"
"So?" The others contested.
"It's just… weird."
"Not really," Kyle said dismissively, not wanting to talk about girlfriends since he was the only one of them without one. "Let's get to geography before someone bitches us out. Come on, Butters." Kyle and Butters turned to go to their lockers, determinedly wasting as much time as possible.
"I gotta go. Have fun in English," Stan told Kenny.
"Right!" Kenny whooped, joining the two teenagers in their slowed search through junked-up lockers.
"Young man, we have to talk," Butters' mom informed her son as he walked through the front door.
"Oh, sweet Jesus!" Butters' already huge gray eyes widened at the porn tape his mom held in her hand.
"Young man, I found this in your closet. But that's not all I found." She waved her hand behind her, where a stack of porno magazines and tapes teetered next to each other. Scattered around them were some used condoms from Butters' wild party, various alcoholic items, and a balled up bloody towel.
"M-Mom, I-"
"Save it, Butters. We're sending you to military school! Go pack; you leave in three hours!"
"Y-yes, ma'am." Butters obeyed dismally, absentmindedly climbing the stairs. Once in his room, his anger could surface and he started smashing things randomly. He cleared off his entire desk, threw all of his clothes on the floor, and knocked over all the furniture he could manage. When his room was a complete disaster area, he sank to his knees in the middle of it all and started crying, bawling, letting out all of his sadness that was overpowering his anger.
"I'm sorry, Son," his dad said without a hint of emotion as he opened Butters' door.
"D-Dad! Tell mom that-"
"I already tried."
"B-but all that stuff you taught m-me about stickin' up for myself, wh-what about that, D-Dad?"'
"Get packing." A swift kick in the side and a punch in the jaw left Butters huddled on the floor, biting back the angry tears he did not want his father to see. The man he had so come to hate shut his door, leaving him alone again.
"Kenny! Git down here! It's time for supper!" Kenny's mom called, her speech impaired by it's usual southern slur and drunken babble.
"Kenny," the girl grunted from under her boyfriend. "Shouldn't we go eat now?"
"Just a minute…" Kenny planted one more loving kiss on her forehead and got off of her. After throwing her clothes to her, he hunted for his pants. The two dressed in silence, then, hand in hand, walked downstairs together, positively beaming.
"What the hell are you two so goddamn happy about!?" Kenny's dad yelled drunkenly. He turned his drunken anger on Mrs. McCormick, who was digging waffles out of the freezer. "What's taking so long, you fucking bitch!?"
"Nothing! Kenny, sit down. Is this girl eating, too?" Kenny's mom asked, turning.
"Sure."
"What do you think we are, a food bank? Jesus Christ… Fucking little girlfriends wanna stay for supper…" Susan mumbled, throwing the box of frozen waffles on the table.
A loud ring interrupted whatever other insults Kenny's mom was about to throw at them under her breath. Kenny rushed to get it, just for an excuse to be out of the kitchen.
"Hello?"
"Kenny? Get over here, hurry," Stan commanded.
"Why?" The dial tone was his only answer. Irritated, Kenny ran back upstairs and threw on an orange hoody over his dirty tee shirt. As he pulled the hood on, he smiled in spite of himself. He stopped in the hallway and looked in the kitchen.
"Kenny? Where are you going?" The girl wondered, looking at him oddly.
"Stan's house." Kenny's familiar mumbling was back, and when the girl only stared incomprehensively, he took the hood off and said it again. Hesitantly, he hurried into the kitchen and gave her a quick kiss, then pulled his hood back on and ran out the front door and up the street.
Whoa, dude. Haha, I lied. Next chappy has all the 'problems suddenly become clear' shit in it. Sorry is I hyped up everyone. (Yeah right...) :P
