It was a pleasant and casual day in the small mountain town of South Park, Colorado. The civilians of the little town are milling about, while some just stayed in their houses. The snow blanketing the streets were white and crisp. The mountains stood tall and green. Leaning against the post of the mailbox outside of his house was a 10-year old young boy, who has medium brown hair. He was dressed in his regular clothing, which was a red winter coat, yellow mittens, a blue hat with a yellow border with a puffball on top, chocolate brown pants, and black shoes. He is also overweight with a double chin. His name was Eric Cartman but is typically called Cartman.
Cartman was waiting for the mailman to arrive with something as he busy humming a merry tune before he checked his watch. In no time at all, the mailman came up to drop off the mail in the mailbox. He popped up from behind the mailbox and he greeted with a smile, "Hi, mailman!"
The mailman responded to this 'friendly greeting' by screaming in hysterical terror as he dropped his envelopes everywhere. He dashed away as he waved to the frightened mailman, "OK, see you tomorrow!"
"Hey, the mail's here," a voice laced with gladness said. The voice came from another 10-year old young boy who came walking up to Cartman. He has blond hair styled in a small tuft, leaving his head mostly bald, and was dressed in a turquoise jacket, dark green trousers, and black shoes. He also spoke with a Southern accent. His name was Butters Stotch, Cartman's best friend. "What'd you get?"
Cartman bent down to pick up the envelopes that the mailman dropped and he began to look through them, tossing away a few envelopes. "Let's see. Mr. Kitty, Mr. Kitty, Mr. Kitty, Mr. Kitty, Mr. Kitty..." After Cartman tossed away the last envelope, his eyes brightened when he came across the last of the mail. "Hey! A magazine!"
The magazine held in Cartman's hands showed a man dressed in fancy black, which was a tuxedo, a black bow tie, a white undershirt, and a black top hat holding a dollar bill with a small flame on one end in his hand.
Cartman wondered, "That's funny. I don't remember subscribing to Fancy Living Digest."
Butters sidled up to Cartman. The obese boy opened up the magazine, and their eyes widen with complete surprise. The magazine was widespread in illustrations of how people live a fancy life. "Whoa…" The two boys marveled.
"Look at these glossy depictions of the higher standard of living," Cartman said, entranced by the magazine's pages. He looked over a photo of a mansion that has a pool in front of it, with a full kiddie pool floating in the middle of the water. "This guy's so rich, he has a swimming pool in a swimming pool."
Butters' eyes fell on a picture of a man with glasses and a tuxedo standing next to a pile of money bags. "This guy's got shoes!" Butters said, pointing to the man's shoes.
"Give me that!" A voice demanded as a hand snatched the magazine from Cartman's hands. The person in question was another 10-year old boy with curly but short hair, which was covered up by a bright green ushanka, an orange jacket with a green collar, dark green trousers, and black shoes. His name was Kyle Broflovski, their next-door neighbor. The magazine that Cartman and Butters were reading was put in the wrong mailbox, meaning that it was supposed to be for him. From what he would believe, he thought that they were trying to purloin his mail.
Kyle growled, "Stealing my mail, eh?" He accusingly pointed to Cartman and Butters, "You're lucky I don't report you to the authorities!"
"Hey, Kyle, how do the people in that magazine make all of that money?" Cartman asked.
Kyle explained, "They're entrepreneurs. They sell things to people."
"What kind of things?" Cartman asked confusedly.
"How should I know?" Kyle scoffed. "Things people wanna buy." He stormed off to his house while clutching the magazine tightly in his fingers. He grumbled, "Now, keep your paws off my mail."
Cartman soon got an idea of how they can live a much richer life. "That's it, Butters! We've gotta become entrepreneurs!"
Butters asked, "Is that gonna hurt?"
"Quick, Butters, without thinking," Cartman urged. "If you could have anything in the world right now, what would it be?"
Butters sweated nervously as he tried to come up with a practical idea of how they would earn cash. "Uh...more time for thinking!"
Cartman pondered further, "No, no. Something real! An item, something you would pay for."
Butters popped up from behind Cartman's head, and he guessed, "A chocolate bar?"
"Good idea, Butters! We'll be traveling chocolate bar salesmen!" Cartman said as he put his arm around Butters. "We could sell chocolate to all of the people in South Park!"
Meanwhile, Cartman and Butters were walking out of a supermarket carrying large stacks of chocolate bars. What's about to happen next was their first step into living the life of a rich person, or so they would think. "Fancy living, here we come!" Cartman called out.
'Make way for a couple of ontre-prenyooers!" Butters added, mispronouncing the word a bit.
The two boys walked up to the first house. But little did they both know is that the inevitable is about to happen. "OK, Butters, this is it," Cartman said. The first step on our road to living fancy. Just follow my lead."
Cartman and Butters walked up to the doorway and Cartman gave the door a knock, and the person swung the door open as soon as he heard the knock. The resident in question was a 10-year old boy with brown hair. He was dressed in a burgundy coat with a blue collar, grayish-brown pants, and black shoes. He sometimes has a green T-shirt with a cow face underneath. His name was Clyde Donovan.
Cartman greeted, "Good afternoon, Clyde." He held up a fresh, hygienically-wrapped chocolate bar for Clyde to see. He offered, "Could we interest you in some...chocolate?"
"Chocolate?" Clyde questioned with wide eyes. "Did you say 'chocolate'?"
"Yep!" Butters nodded. He held up two different chocolate bars, with one wrapper depicting a peanut on the front. "With or without nuts?"
Clyde got this angry look on his face. He knew what Cartman and Butters were trying to sell. "Chocolate?! CHOCOLATE?!" Clyde's eyes grew veins as he began to spiral into extreme insanity. He yelled at the top of his lungs, CHOOOOCOLAAAAAATE! CHOOOOCOLAAAAAATE! CHOOOOCOLAAAAAATE!"
Cartman and Butters' chipper faces contorted to a look of worry. The two boys looked at each other with concerned faces. Uh-oh. They both nervously and slowly backed away from Clyde before they took off down the road, with Clyde yelling maniacally about wanting their chocolate. The two had somehow managed to escape Clyde and went up to another house.
"OK, so Clyde didn't count," Cartman stated as he rang the doorbell. "This is our real first step." The door opened, revealing a man dressed in a fedora, a white button-up shirt, a red vest, a dark magenta tie, brown slackers, and black leather shoes. This man was a con man, to be specific. "Good morning, sir. Would you like to buy some chocolate?"
"Chocolate bars, eh?" the con man asked with a smirk.
"Yes, sir. We are chocolate bar salesmen." Cartman said.
The con man put on a derisive face and thought of how he would take this action to his advantage. He chuckled with a devilish grin, "A couple of mediocre salesmen if you ask me. That's no way to carry your merchandise."
Cartman and the con man and looked down to see many chocolate bars stuffed to the brim in the rear of Butters' pants.
"No, no, no, no, wrong!" The con man shook his head. You boys wanna be good salesmen, right?"
"Oh, most certainly, sir!" Cartman and Butters said in unison with big innocent eyes.
The con man replied, "Well, no respecting candy bar salesmen would be caught dead without one of these!" He held up a small, bright orange zip-up pouch.
"Wow...what is it?" Cartman asked curiously but bewilderingly.
"It's a candy bar bag, you knucklehead." The con man said, rudely on the inside. He stretched his arm out so that the boys can get a clear view of the aforementioned bag. He explained, "It's specially designed to cradle any kind of candy bar in velvet-lined comfort." Cartman and Butters were both about to set a finger on the bag, only for it to be pulled away by him. "But...I'm wasting my time. You don't need these bags."
Figuring that the boys can handle carrying the chocolate bars in their hands, the con man nonchalantly walked back into the house. Cartman and Butters both fell for the con man's scam, and they both desperately pleaded, "We need 'em! We need 'em!"
That was when the con man put on a wide but devious and cunning grin, putting his plan into action.
The con man, having sold large amounts of the candy-bar bags, proudly ran his fingers through a stack of money. He waved to Cartman and Butters with a slightly faux friendly voice, "So long, boys. Happy hunting!" Cartman and Butters, carrying several bags stuffed with their chocolate bar supply in them, walked off to embark on the next house.
"Suckers," The con man chuckled devilishly, walking back into his house again before closing the door behind him.
Cartman and Butters walked down the road. They're both growing excited as they sang a merry tune of living the fancy life.
Fancy living
Here we come!
La la la la la!
"Let's try next door," Cartman said as they walked to another house just next to the first one. He and Butters walked up to the door, and Cartman rang the bell with his foot. The door opened, and out came a familiar somebody…
"Yes?"
"Huh?" Cartman knew that it was the same con man they saw a few seconds ago. "Say, weren't you the same guy who sold us these candy bar bags earlier?"
"Uh, I don't recall." The con man rubbed his chin in confusion. He brightened the subject, "But it looks to me that you guys have a lot of bags there. You too ladykillers are too smart to be without one of my patented Candy Bar Bag Carrying Bags." He held up two large scarlet zip-up pouches.
"We'll take 20," Butters replied without any hesitation.
Later that day after purchasing the bags, Cartman and Butters journeyed to the next house. Cartman knocked on the door and out came another resident. The person in question was a woman in her early 30s. She had an unusually inflated head, scrawny limbs, brown hair in a bob, and black reading glasses. She wore a light gray turtleneck sweater, white pants, and black shoes. She also wore gold earrings on her ears. Her name was Heather Conduct, whose overall appearance resembles their school counselor, Mr. Mackey.
Heather greeted the two with a polite voice in the same accent as Mr. Mackey's, "Oh, what can I do for you two nice young men?"
"We're selling chocolate bars," Cartman grinned. "Would you like to buy one?"
"That sounds heavenly!" Heather said. "I'll take one."
"One chocolate bar coming right up!" Cartman said.
Cartman opened up his dark red bag carrier and pulled out his orange candy bar bag...only to pull out another bag that was stuffed inside. This brought the chubby boy baffled. "Huh?" he asked.
Putting on a nervous face, Cartman repeated the same action by bringing another candy bar bag out of the one he took out just now. The two boys couldn't have been able to put a candy bar bag inside of each other—could they? Heather's smile began to fade as he began to check her watch with a slightly dull look on her face. Cartman chuckled sheepishly pulled out even another candy bar bag, then another...then another...then another. Heather frowned and crossed her arms as her patience was running thin. Cartman frantically searched through more and more bags to search for the candy he was intending to sell to the woman. Butters just stood beside him, zipping and unzipping his pants that he took off.
"I know it's in here somewhere!" Cartman said anxiously.
Heather had finally seen enough. "I don't have time for this," she muttered as she walked back into her house and closed the door behind her. Cartman finally pulled out a chocolate bar, but it was too late to give it to Heather.
"I've got it!" Cartman exclaimed. "One chocolate bar for the lady who looks like Mr..."
"CHOOOOCOLAAAAAATE! CHOOOOCOLAAAAAATE!" a familiar voice in the distance screamed. To make matters worse, Clyde Donovan was still screaming fanatically for their chocolate bars.
"...Mackey." Cartman gulped. He and Butters took off running with Clyde hot on their heels
It was already in the afternoon and the two boys were at Kentucky Fried Chicken, Cartman's favorite restaurant to have some lunch. As they were eating fried chicken, Cartman's face was fueled with worry. He remembered how selling chocolate bars was no problem at all, how they were swindled by the con man, and how futile their attempts to sell their candy bar supply to...could this get any worse?
"We're not doing so well, Butters," Cartman said, rubbing his temple in anxiety. "We need a new approach. A new tactic."
Butters thought for a moment, and he came up with an idea. He exclaimed, "I got it! Let's get naked!"
Cartman's eyes widened a little at how crazy Butters' idea of going around nude in public could be. "No, let's save that for when we're selling real estate in our adulthood." His brow furrowed, "There must be something. What was the reason we bought those bags?"
Butters clarified, "He said we were mediocre."
"That's it! He made us feel special." Cartman said.
"Yeah, he did." Butters pondered. He sprang up, "I'm going back to buy more bags!"
Butters began to sprint out of the restaurant at breakneck speed. Cartman hastily shouted, "No, wait, Butters!" The voice was audible enough to make Butters halt in his tracks. Cartman walked up to his friend and suggested, "Why don't we try being nice?"
"Oh, OK." Butters nodded.
Meanwhile, further down South Park, Cartman and Butters had gathered up their chocolate bar bags, having left KFC. Once they were done with lunch, the boys were back on their venture of selling their chocolate to the public. They walked up to another house as Cartman explained whatever plan he had in mind to Butters. He said, "Remember, Butters, flatter the customer. Make him or her feel good."
Butters knocked on the door, and a 10-year-old girl appeared in the doorway. She had brown hair tied in two pigtails, and she wore a green sweatshirt with a white daisy on the front, dark green pants, and black shoes. Her name was Nelly.
"Hello?" Nelly answered.
Butters looked at Nelly with a strange but goofy smile. He purred, "I love you." Nelly stared at him and Cartman for a few seconds, then she slammed the door hard in their faces, expressing perturbance by the boy's sentence.
"Uh, I think you went a bit too literal there, Butters," Cartman said hesitantly. "Let me try."
Cartman rang the doorbell, and the cowardly Nelly cracked the door open, never bothering to come fully out.
"Please. G-G-Go away!" Nelly shivered, still weirded out or frightened by Butters' statement.
Cartman cleared his throat and tried to act nice. He forced a strangely wide grin, "Um, how are you doing?"
Nelly asked bewilderingly, "How am I doing?"
Cartman held a chocolate bar up to Nelly as he asked, "Want to buy some chocolate?"
"WE'VE GOT HER NOW!" Butters exclaimed excitedly. They're finally about to sell their first chocolate bar! Or at least, they thought they were.
"Sorry, but chocolate has sugar and sugar turns to bubbling fat," Nelly interjected. "Isn't that right, lover boy?"
Butters looked down at his belly, which started producing tiny bubbles. He giggled, "It tickles!"
"As you can see, me and chocolate no longer hang." Nelly held up a photo of her younger, but chubbier self at age 7 to make her point. She handed the photo to Butters and she replied, 'You could keep that for five dollars."
"I'll take ten," Butters said, mindlessly spending ever more of his money.
A few seconds had passed since Cartman and Butters left Nelly's house and were walking down the road. Cartman felt both worried and disappointed with not being able to sell even a single chocolate bar to anyone in the small town. Cartman had always been determined to live a rich life with Butters, and he's not any closer.
"We haven't sold one chocolate bar," Cartman groaned. He turned to Butters and he said, "I get the feeling we're too easily distracted."
Butters was preoccupied, however. He was busy staring at the 10 fat Nelly photocopies in his right hand. And just like that, Butters wasn't paying any attention to whatever Cartman is saying. "Huh?"
"Let's make a vow right now that we will stay focused on selling at the next house," Cartman declared, his face fueled with a newfound resolve.
"What?" Butters questioned, still staring at the pictures.
"Let's shake on it," Cartman said, extending his left hand to Butters for a handshake.
Butters finally shifted to Cartman, and lowered his hand holding the photos down."Did you say something?" he asked.
Cartman reminded Butters, "Remember, Butters. Focus."
The boys went up to another house in the neighborhood, Cartman knocked on the door. Appearing in the open doorway was a boy with black hair. He was dressed in a sky-blue coat with a red collar, red gloves, dark blue pants, and black shoes. His name was Kevin Stoley.
"Yes?" Kevin answered as he came out.
"Good afternoon, Kevin," Cartman said. "We're selling chocolate bars."
Taking Cartman's advice a bit too literally, Butters walked up to Kevin, and he stared at him long, his eyes going back and forth continuously. What Butters was doing made Kevin feel a little anxious. "Why is Butters here staring at me?" Kevin asked timidly.
Butters replied, "Focusing."
Kevin walked back into his house as Butters' eyes stretched further out. Getting sick of Butters' behavior, he grabbed the door… "Back up, Jack!"...and slammed the door right on Butters' eyes. Despite being trapped in the sealed door frame, Butters' eyes started looking around the interior of Kevin's home, much to his chagrin.
"Nice place you got here," Butters commented.
Cartman and Butters were walking down the path again, having gotten the latter's eyes out from the closed door to Kevin's house. Cartman was once again unsatisfied with the progress of selling chocolate bars to the town. Butters, who was still not paying attention to Cartman's brooding, munched on one of the chocolate bars they were going to sell.
Cartman said, "I can't understand what we're doing wrong!"
"I can't understand anything," Butters said as he continued eating the candy bar.
"There must be something to this selling game that we're just not getting," Cartman assumed. "Other people do it! I mean look at that!"
The boys stopped in front of a billboard towering above them. "'Eat Broccoli Cheese Chips! They're Delicious'". Butters read the advertisement aloud.
Cartman interjected, "They're most certainly are not delicious!"
Butters replied, "Not the way I use them."
Cartman clarified, "Yet they sell millions of bags a day."
Butters looked down at the candy bar in his hand. He said, "Well, maybe if they didn't stretch the truth, they wouldn't sell as many."
What Butters said made Cartman's face brighten up with a clever, new idea. Maybe there can be a way to sell the chocolate bars to the public. He turned to =Butters and cried excitedly, "That's it, Butters! We've gotta stretch the truth!"
"CHOOOOCOLAAAATE!" Clyde screamed in the distance. Sensing Clyde hot on their heels, Cartman and Butters ran away to evade from him.
After they managed to escape from Clyde once more, the duo stopped at another house. Cartman and Butters had worked out their plan: by stretching the truth, they are sure to sell their candy bars and earn some money in no time at all.
"We'll work as a team," Cartman said. "Let me get this customer warmed up, and then you come in for the kill."
"The kill." Butters smiled slyly but eagerly.
Cartman rang the bell, and the door opened to reveal the resident of the home, Hillary Clinton (from The Tooth Fairy Tats 2000).
"Yes?" Hillary answered.
"Hello, 'young' lady," Cartman said, pretending to be polite on the inside. He winked to Butters, who responded with a chuckle. "We're selling chocolate. Is your mother home?"
"MOM!" Hillary called out. To her response, a much more decrepit woman with blindness and inability for hearing, sitting on a wheelchair came rolling up to the open doorway.
"What? What? What's all the yelling?!"
Cartman and Butters were completely shocked at the overly-aged appearance of Hillary's mother. "You just can't wait for me to die, can ya?!"
Hillary said to her mother, "These boys are selling chocolates!"
"Chocolates?"
"Yeah!"
Due to her lack of clear hearing, Hillary's mother could never make out what her daughter is trying to say. She asked, 'What? What're they selling?"
"Chocolate!"
"What?!"
"Chocolate!"
"I can't hear you!"
"THEY'RE SELLING CHOCOLATES!" Hillary shouted loud enough for her mother to hear.
"Chocolates?"
"YEAH!"
Suddenly, Hillary's mother began to have flashbacks about her first time having chocolate. She said dreamily, 'Chocolate. I remember when they first invented chocolate. Sweet, sweet chocolate." Her dreamy tone changed to a more bitter voice, "I always hated it!"
Cartman held up a chocolate bar with a sheepish grin on his face. "Oh, but this chocolate is not for eating. It's for, uh…"
Butters came up with a way to stretch the truth to the Clintons by telling a false story of what the chocolate will do to them. He announced, "You rub it on your skin and it makes you live forever!"
"No, no, no, no…!" Hillary tried to deny while waving her hands dismissively.
"Live forever, you say?" Hillary's mother said, interested at the thought. "I'll take one!"
Hillary slapped her forehead in frustration as there was no turning back. Hillary irritatedly took out a dollar and paid for the chocolate. Hillary's mother called from inside, "Come on, you lazy Hillary! Start rubbing me with that chocolate!"
Hillary had gotten sick of her mother's antics. She now has to keep her mom happy at the thought of 'being immortal', or so she would believe in. Hillary then uttered three loathsome words to Cartman and Butters. "I. Hate. You." With that said, Hillary slammed the door.
They did it! Butters' lies had finally made them sell their first bar of chocolate to the town. Cartman announced to Butters, 'If we keep exaggerating the truth, we'll be fancy living in no time!"
"Hooray for lying!" Butters cheered, pumping his fist in the air.
As time went on, Cartman and Butters have been successfully selling their product to all of the South Park residents by bringing up rather preposterous claims about their chocolate bars.
"It'll make your hair grow!" Cartman told a bald customer.
"Great!" the bald man exclaimed. "My wife's trying to grow a beard!"
"It'll make you sound smart!"
"I'll take 20!" a hillbilly said.
The absurd stories keep going on and on as Cartman and Butters's profits went ever upwards.
"It'll keep your face from getting any uglier!" Butters reported.
"Just in time!" replied Butters' adult future self (from My Future Self n' Me).
"They'll make you fly!
'You'll fall in love!"
"They'll bring world peace!"
"You'll walk through walls!"
"YOU'LL RULE THE WORLD!"
By the time every single chocolate bar was brought by almost everyone in town, Cartman and Butters stopped at the very last house to sell chocolate to the person of the residence. They both are in crutches, bandages, and arm slings, disguising themselves as if they were in dire need of an emergency operation. "This will be the best lie yet!" Butters chuckled.
"Yeah, this guy will feel sorry for us so much, he'll have to buy all of our chocolates!" Cartman agreed.
The door cracked open an inch, the image of the resident blanketed by the darkness of the living room. "What can I do for you boys?" asked a soft, yet very familiar voice.
"Hello, sir!" Cartman hailed. "Would you like to buy a chocolate bar? We need an operation."
"Really? Small world." The customer hobbled out on the porch, wrapped in a full-body cast, wearing an oxygen mask and an eye patch. "What's the matter with you guys?"
"Uh, we've got some head trauma and internal bleeding," Cartman said, albeit a bit hesitantly.
"Oh, some guys have all the luck," the customer said. As a sad violin song began to play, he said, "I was born with glass bones and paper skin. Every morning, I break my legs. And every afternoon I break my arms. At night, I lie awake in agony until my heart attacks put me to sleep." Cartman and Butters were so devastated by this harrowing story, that they were both on the verge of breaking down into tears.
Just then, the wires keeping the 'injured' customers leg elevated started to break off. "Oh, no!" More of the wires on the machine behind him snapped off too and he began to fall down the steps as he groaned in pain from the impact of his fall, and the sounds of glass breaking resonated throughout in the background. On the last tumble, he landed at Cartman and Butters' feet.
"Quick, Butters! Let's help him!" Cartman urged.
Moments later, Cartman and Butters carried the customer back into the house, as Cartman held him by the legs and Butters holding him by the head. "Careful. Put him down gently." However, Butters didn't listen as he dropped the customer on the wooden floor. He landed hard right on the cranium as a loud shattering sound echoed throughout the room.
"Owwww…" the man writhed in pain.
"You poor, poor man." Cartman and Butters felt sympathy for the man's condition, "If there's anything, anything we can do to help you…"
"There is one thing…" the customer clarified. "As you can well imagine, my medical bills are extremely high. But luckily, I'm able to keep myself alive by selling...chocolate bars…"
Cartman and Butters looked behind them to see a mountain of wooden crates with chocolate bars littering the floor and the boxes.
Meanwhile, the customer watched the two boys leave with the crates of candy bars, having bought the crates of candy bar supplies.
"Such nice boys…" The man looked out to the two departing boys. "It does my heart good to con a couple of class-A sucker-roonies like those two!" The guy unzipped his cast, which turned out to be just a costume and revealing his true appearance. It turned out to be the con man who sold them the candy bags many hours earlier! He let out a roar of laughter as he flipped through the cash he received from Butters and Cartman, feeling satisfied that he had once again swindled the boys.
Cartman and Butters were walking down the road, carrying the heavy boxes of chocolate bars with their strength.
"Don't get me wrong, Butters," Cartman said to Butters. "It's great that we helped that guy out, but there's no one in left to sell chocolate bars to!" The weight of the crate containing the bars was so heavy, that he fell backward, with the crate resting on his face. "Let's face it, Butters. We're failures," he moaned.
"I can live with that," Butters replied simply but stupidly as he set his crate on top of Cartman's before sitting on the top.
"Let's change our names to 'Why' and 'Bother'," Cartman said solemnly.
Suddenly, Clyde Donovan snuck up from behind and he bellowed at the top of his lungs. "CHOOOOOOCOLAAAAAAAATE!" Clyde yelled, his eyes harboring murder. The force of the scream was so strong that it sent Cartman, Butters, and the crates of chocolate flying.
The two boys embraced each other in fear, scared out of their wits about what's going to happen to the two. "NO! NO! DON'T HURT US! PLEEEEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE SPARE US!" Cartman and Butters whimpered fearfully and simultaneously.
"AH-HA-HA-HA-HA!" Clyde laughed insanely, and this was scaring the two boys further. "FINALLY!" He pointed his index finger to Cartman and Butters, "I'VE BEEN TRYING TO CATCH YOU BOYS ALL DAY! NOW THAT I'VE GOT YOU RIGHT WHERE I WANT YOU…" Clyde instantly calmed down and took out an extremely large pile of dollars. "...I'd like to buy all your chocolate."
Cartman and Butters stood right where they are with stunned expressions frozen on their faces. Not only had Clyde calmed down and regained his senses, but he wanted to buy every one of their chocolate. They paid no mind to a few chocolate bars that fell out of Butter's pants and onto the pavement, followed by a Hershey's Kiss. The two boys melted into puddles to the pavement at Clyde's feet as Cartman was more than willing to thank Clyde for his debate.
Cartman said wearily, "Thank you for your patronage."
An hour has passed since Clyde spent his money on the crates of chocolate Cartman and Butters were carrying earlier. Due to the high rate of moolah, Butters was pushing forward a wheelbarrow stuffed to the brim with green and silver. And they both knew that their first experience of living life of a wealthy billionaire is just beginning.
"Are we living the fancy life yet, Eric?" Butters asked.
Cartman popped up from the pile of cash. He replied "Not yet, pally." He gestured to the dollars and the coins, "First, we gotta spend all the money."
Butters asked, "What should we spend it on?"
Cartman began to rub his chin and think of how they could spend their money. "Hmmm..."
Time had passed, and nightfall came. Kyle Broflovski entered the Buca de Faggoncini, a lavish Italian restaurant. Since it was a fancy restaurant, Kyle was dressed in a black tuxedo with matching pants, a white undershirt, a black bowtie, and a top hat on his head. He approached a waiter standing at the podium behind the dining space, where the tables are at.
"Good evening sir," Kyle greeted the waiter. "Table for one, please."
"Sorry, but the whole restaurant has been rented to a private party," the waiter said.
Kyle complained, "But it's my only night to be fancy! Oh, who could afford to rent out the whole restaurant?!"
The waiter said with a sly tone, "Oh, a couple of rich entrepreneurs..and their dates."
Cartman and Butters, who are donned in top hats, sat at one of the tables in the dining area. Their so-called 'dates' turned out to be none other than Hillary Clinton and her mother from earlier when they were selling their chocolate bars.
"So, how long have you two ladies known each other?" Cartman asked.
After a moment of silence, Hillary's mother asked in confusion, "What? What did he say?!"
THE END