Wendy, being Queen of the Debate Team, once argued for Flat Earth theory and Clyde was utterly convinced it was all true. Of course, that's fucking Clyde for you, Cartman snorted internally. Point being, that to remain diplomatic when speaking about Eric Cartman was an art only Wendy could excel at, but he didn't hear a single word of what she said during his eulogy. The faint imprint of other lips on his own was at the forefront of his thoughts and drowning all other senses.

Kyle had kissed him then skipped off like it was nothing. Maybe that was Cartman's fault. He hadn't exactly dipped him and proclaimed endless love at the contact. Didn't even give me a fucking chance to, he thought. Had he wanted to? Had Kyle wanted him to want to? Kyle stood beside him innocuously, having decided not to disturb the service further by making his way back to his seat. He'd caused enough fuss and concern leaving before.

Cartman glanced at his attentive face, absorbed by Wendy's speech and mouth mutely forming around the familiar poem she was reciting, familiar to Kyle at least, being as much a nerd as she was.

Sure, he'd thought about fucking Kyle; if he were honest he'd thought about fucking most people – he was an average teenager with average hormones and average curiosity and a huge… imagination. But a fantasy was a fantasy and he definitely wasn't into guys, least of all a Jersey day-walker.

So why was he breathless when he didn't need to breathe? He tore his eyes away from Kyle's mouth, a sardonic chuckle bubbling in the back of his throat as he realised he was probably the first person to get horny at their own funeral.

Things wrapped up soon after Wendy had said her piece and Cartman trailed after the casket as it trundled out and onward to the gravesite. There were flowers designated for the girls to throw into the grave as the casket was lowered but Kenny defiantly grabbed two for himself and Butters, silently daring anyone to comment. Stan didn't complain either when Wendy handed one to him. Kyle didn't pick one and Cartman supposed he would throw a handful of earth with the other guys. A few more words, a few more wails, and he was in the ground. Anti-climactic indeed, and the piles of dirt and dead flowers littering the lid looked oddly unfeeling.

By and by, people peeled away from the gravesite to their cars, or the school bus that had brought some of his classmates as an exception from its normal duties. Now mostly alone, Kyle had taken out the curiosity-baiting gift-wrapped box from under his jacket. "I know it's a few years too late," said Kyle to the casket rather than Cartman stood next to him, as he was still in public, "but here's the Red Mega Man you wanted."

"You serious?" Cartman gawped as it landed on the lid with a light clunk. "What's the point in that? I don't have the other two anymore. And I'm dead."

Kyle rolled his eyes. "It's supposed to be a nice gesture. You're never grateful, are you?" He curled a finger against his lips with a thoughtful smile and Cartman stamped down the arousal the small movement caused. If he wasn't careful he might end up convincing himself that he wanted to kiss Kyle again. That absolutely could not happen. Of course if Kyle made the first move that was different. If Kyle kissed him first then anything that happened from that point forward would be on him and Cartman would be exempt from any responsibility. Deep down, far away from his conscious psyche, he hoped Kyle would give in soon.

Cartman closed in when he saw Kyle wipe the corner of his eye. "Hey Jew, are you crying because I'm dead or because you just threw thirty dollars into the ground?"

Kyle stared blankly out at the graves for a moment, then broke out into bewildered giggles. "Oh my God, Cartman, that's so typical of you," he tried to whisper between gasps. "Asshole." They ignored the few fellow stragglers at the graveside glowering at him. Cartman nudged him playfully and Kyle leaned against him, looking down at the box and the earth and the flowers and what once was Cartman.

The ride over with his mother had been a real buzz-kill and the weirdness between him and Kyle that had only escalated with that kiss was bringing Cartman down. The best way to cure it, it seemed to him, was to see just exactly what his wings could do and he surfed on the top of one of the cars headed to his house that had a roof rack he could hold onto. It was an odd sensation – the wind dragging over the thin skin and his eyes soon stung more than he could put up with. He turned around, wrapping the leathery appendages around him for warmth and waited for home.

Whilst everyone was distracted he dashed inside and stole a few snacks. His mother's almost constant cooking and baking had been torture, especially as she had made all his favourite things in his memory, and fuck it he was going to risk finding out what happens when you eat when you're dead. He hid out in his room with his cat hoping no-one was interested in grieving up there today and stuffed several things in his mouth at once. He could chew, so far so good. Mr. Kitty uncurled herself from his pillow with a purr and stared at him. "Mrow?"

"No kitty, this is my funeral finger food."

"Mrow?"

"Noooo kitty, MY funeral finger food."

She hissed unhappily, pawing at his feet.

"No kitty, that's a bad kitty!" He felt a static shudder in his body and when he looked down she was nibbling happily the pre-chewed snacks that had fallen through him. "God fucking dammit." Well, it was better than crapping it out, he supposed. The cat arched slightly at the sound of the door and did a little sideways hop backwards to Cartman's bed, retreating underneath. It was his mother, trying to get a moment to herself, or just feeling overwhelmed: he didn't know. She sat down on the bed and gazed around unseeingly. Mr. Kitty crawled out from under the bed and rubbed against her legs, demanding food and attention. When she didn't get it, she ran back to Cartman. "Go 'way," he muttered, pushing her face back. She head-butted his hand eagerly.

"Kitty?" Mrs. Cartman cocked her head primly at the strange behaviour. "Kitty? What's wrong, sweetie?"

"Mrow!" she complained.

"Fucking moron," Cartman said. "She's going to think you're nuts too. You'll get put down for having rabies or something."

His mother picked up the purring bundle and nuzzled her. "Such a funny kitty. Do you miss Eric, is that it?" She paused a moment, lifting her face and searching the place where he stood. For a moment she looked at him. "Oh no," she shook her head with a sad smile. "How silly that would be. Come on, kitty, nummies time!" The cat seemed to almost pout as she was slung over Mrs. Cartman's shoulder, mewing unhappily as she was taken away. As no-one could see or hear him, Cartman made the same sound back.

"Now seems like a good time," Kyle whispered to Cartman when he returned.

"Huh? Oh right. Yeah, go for it."

Kyle sought out a gap in the crowded living room and tapped a glass with a knife. "Sorry," he said, putting them down as his audience began to hush. "I know that's more of a wedding thing but it's the only way I could think of getting your attention. I don't know where Cartman keeps his megaphone." There were a few polite titters. He took the will out from his inner pocket and Cartman sucked in a breath at the hole in his shirt. Kyle cleared his throat. "As many of you know, Cartman was never the most organised of people when it came to his homework," more titters, "but when it came to financial affairs he couldn't be beat. He therefore thought it prudent to create a will, even at such a tender age. He didn't get around to making it official, and I'm the only person that saw him write it, but I've already spoken to Mrs. Cartman and she has given the contents her blessing."

Cartman raised an eyebrow. He'd never even thought about his mom voicing a complaint. "Clever Jew," he chuckled beside Kyle. "That's all that lawyer blood in you."

He ignored him and began, "So without further ado, Cartman's last will and testament, verbatim." He held out the quivering paper. "I, Eric Theodore Cartman, now residing in the town of South Park, state of Colorado, and being of (relatively) sound mind and (not anymore) body and not acting under fraud, menace, or Durex," Kyle shot him a dirty look, "or the undue influence of any day-walker whomsoever," another dirty look, "do hereby make, publish and declare this to be my last will and testament."

Kyle stopped for air and every eye was on him with burning interest. "First: I direct my executor, hereinafter named, to pay all my debts, expenses of administration, and my last illness and funeral costs as soon after my death as is convenient." He cleared his throat again. "Um, basically that's me and I've already sorted out all that stuff with his mom. No-one wants to hear all that right?" The murmurs of agreement persuaded him to skip forward a little. "To Stanley Marsh, I leave all my sporty jock shit."

Stan shrank down in embarrassment and confusion at being first.

"To Shelly Marsh, I leave my Wild Wild West vinyl soundtrack album."

"Kick assh!" she lisped, punching her little brother's arm.

"To Wendy Testaburger, who has no desire for material things, I instead donate $1000 to the American Breast Cancer Foundation."

"Holy crap," she whispered, grabbing Stan's other arm.

"Told you she'd cream herself over that," Cartman snickered in Kyle's ear. Kyle smirked back. There were a few more random items to classmates that were mostly subtle jokes in his memory, such as a personally signed bass guitar for Token, which they could all pick up at the end of the reception.

"To Leopold Stotch," Kyle dug into his pocket, "I leave this key and this code. Um, apparently you'll know what to do with it?" Butters took the small piece of paper and key and nodded sincerely. Kyle didn't question further. Whatever it was, it was obviously between them. Kyle motioned him closer for a moment with a grin. "The will also asks you to take care of Kenny for him, and to hurry up and be gay together already."

"How-how did he-?"

"Beats me," Kyle shrugged innocently, resisting the urge to wink at Cartman. "To the Furry Purry Pretty Kitty Cat Sanctuary," and he couldn't believe Cartman just made him say that, "I donate $1000." He felt Cartman bounce excitedly. His favourite part, and Kyle's too, was coming up. "To Kenneth McCormick, my BFF, I leave the rest of my estate."

"Woah, seriously?"

Kyle nodded, folding the will back into his pocket. "Yeah but uh, obviously all the finances have to be sorted out first but along with all Cartman's material possessions you'll be getting about…" He mumbled a number into his ear.

Butters squealed as Kenny slumped to the floor in an unmanly faint. Cartman rubbed his hands together and hooted, "Epic!"

Next Chapter:

Heidi flicked out her hair animatedly. "This one time, Cartman bought me a teddy bear. Well, he won it from a claw machine. Actually a little kid won it and he took it when he wasn't looking but it's the thought that counts!"

"Uh-huh," Kyle sighed, not even trying to sound interested. Hearing about Cartman's romantic adventures with his ex-girlfriend was not helping his mood.

~~I know it was a dick-move making the previous teaser the last part of this chapter. You're going to hate me even more when you see what a slow fucking burn this is. It will hopefully be worth it?~~