"Would you like some more Cheesy Poofs?"
"Duh, yeah I want more Cheesy Poofs." Cartman rolled his eyes and practically snatched the bag out of the air the second Pip conjured it up. Hopefully the supply Pip was stealing it from wasn't under great scrutiny. "That's so coooool. I wish I could do that."
It's possible you can, thought Pip but he chose to keep silent about his suspicions and watched with the same kind of satisfaction Mrs. Cartman probably got from watching her son happy with food. Except Cartman wasn't happy, not one bit.
"This is some fucked up shit right here," Cartman spat. "He can't change his mind like that, we had a deal. Back in my day a deal with the devil fucking meant something."
"You're only eighteen. This IS your day."
"You know what I meant." Cartman poured out the dregs from the bag into his mouth and threw it into the abundant pile of trash he was creating. "Got any ice-cream?"
"Sorry, it's too difficult to keep cold. The only ice-cream in Hell gets fed to lactose-intolerant people for fun."
"No ice-cream?" Cartman whined. This really was Hell. But at least he could have some food now, and that was better than none at all. The thought 'but not better than Kyle' emerged from the back of his mind and he kicked the pile of empty packaging angrily. Pip shifted back on the assumption he might be next in line, as he often was.
"Pip! Where are you?" a sharp voice rang out above and Pip shrank back further against the cave wall.
"Who's that?" Cartman tried to peer through a fissure in the rocks.
"Damien…" Pip shivered and rocked piteously. "I'm not supposed to be here. I'll be punished. Severely." Something about the way he played that word on his tongue like it tasted sweet made Cartman shiver too. Idly he wondered if Pip had deliberately disobeyed anticipating some sort of castigation for his efforts.
They heard the sound of small stones scattering from Damien's purposeful footsteps and Cartman slid down beside Pip. "He's the son of the devil right? He's got the power to get me out of here, back to Earth?"
"Theoretically, but why would he?"
"Because," said Cartman with a gentle pat on the blond's head, "I think I've found me a bargaining chip. If you don't mind a little play-acting."
"It won't work. He'll just erase you, and myself at that."
"He might erase you anyway, when he finds you having a romantic picnic with another guy. Worth a shot, right?"
Pip's round unblinking eyes took in the self-assured glint from Cartman's own and the crooked smile that rarely failed to charm. "If you insist, but on your head it shall jolly well be."
"Kyle! Took you long enough," said Stan thrusting his basketball across the court. "Not that Butters and Kenny bothered to show up on time either."
Kyle caught it with no trouble and dribbled it casually back to its owner. "Teams of two when they get here?"
"Kenny called - he's sitting it out. So I was thinking one on one and then winner takes on the next."
"Huh, Kenny never misses out on basketball. What's up with him?"
"Ask him yourself," Stan nodded to behind Kyle. "They just turned up." Kyle looked back over his shoulder and sure enough Kenny was talking to Wendy, furiously scribbling corrections over Stan's dismal homework.
Butters bounded past them to join Stan and Kyle on the court. "Come here, come here," he squealed. "We have to show you something. Why we were late." They exchanged confused looks but trailed after Butters back to the benches.
"Ta-dah! We went jewellery shopping," said Kenny once they were near enough to see the shiny metal band on his finger, Butters waving his own in front of them earnestly. Kenny planted a kiss on his beaming face. "Hung up my man-slut badge for good, right?"
"No way! That's great you guys!" Wendy and Kyle squealed almost as badly as Butters had.
Unusually Stan was more pragmatic than his girlfriend and best friend. "Aren't you a little young?"
"We're not going to go skipping off to San Francisco next week or anything. We're gonna wait until after college."
Stan visibly relaxed. "You're really going then? That's great Ken. Sorry, I didn't mean to sound…"
"It's okay. Thank you Stan," Butters whispered, toying with his ring finger.
"Anyway," huffed Wendy. "I don't think there's anything wrong with getting engaged at OUR age."
Stan wasn't stupid enough to miss a hint like that. "Did you want me to propose?"
"Yes, silly, but not now. You're going to propose to me at prom."
"Oh… I am?"
"Congratulations Stan," Kyle giggled and hugged his other officially engaged friends. "How'd it happen?"
Kenny stood back dramatically. "I'll tell you, but I'm warning you; it's super cute. You might want some sick bags."
"Noooo Kenny, don't tell," Butters blushed.
"But it's fucking adorable!"
Butters moaned a little more but indicated he could continue.
"So picture the scene; we're in bed and I'm looking super sexy in just my pants."
Butters buried his face in his hands.
"And Butters is wearing his unicorn onesie."
"You don't have to go into that much detail," he pouted. Kyle massaged his shoulders reassuringly. Everyone already knew he had a unicorn onesie. Cartman had snapped him in it long ago and shared the picture with virtually everyone he met.
"But details make the story-meal nutritious, Bee," Kenny reasoned. "Anyways he asks me what college I'm going to and says he wants to pick the same or nearby so he can make sure we'll always be near to each other."
"Aww," said Wendy, as if a million other teenage couples didn't do the same thing, usually with dire results.
"And I said it didn't matter, because we'd always be together." Kenny smiled brightly at the mental vision of Butters on his bed holding out his hands for his and carefully rolling him to face him.
"Kenny, would you please marry me."
Butters almost ate his hands in embarrassment. It was such an awkward clunky way to ask, and the 'please' made him sound so needy. At least Kenny had left out the part where an hour beforehand they had been making love for the first time. They all agreed that the story was, as Kenny had put it, super cute, and Butters and Stan headed out onto the court first.
It wasn't exactly like tracking someone's energy, like in anime or the suchlike, but something akin to it, and Damien had no trouble locking in on the signature feeling of Pip's fragile soul and the unusual one hovering by it. They were in an area of Level Thirteen – the entrance to Hell – but he knew no more specifically than that. But he was close. He could almost taste Pip's trepidation.
"Hey Gaymien!"
Of course, Damien sighed as Cartman hove into view, dragging his pet with him. "Let me guess Pip, your favourite character from 'Gays of Our Lives' was doing a meet-and-greet and you just had to get his autograph."
"Something like that," Cartman answered on his behalf, pulling him closer and caressing his face. "I've decided if I'm gonna be stuck in Hell without Kyle I'll need some other entertainment. I think Barbie will do nicely."
Damien threw his head back with a hearty laugh. "If you can even find your dick under all that fat in order to use it then you're welcome to him."
"Well that's fucking rude," said Cartman but he didn't unhand Pip. He was at a stalemate and he had to find leverage somehow and fast. "Fine, I'll take him right here." He threw Pip to the ground and straddled him before he could squirm away, clasping his mouth closed and grinning up at Damien's uptight expression. "Do you mind, devil-boy? I can't bring out my A-game when I'm being watched."
"Oh dear me," Damien cooed derisively. "You really are desperate to get back aren't you?"
"Desperate? Course I am. I'm so desperate to get back I just threatened to rape Rapunzel here." Pip forgot his role in their performance and let out an affronted grunt from under Cartman's hand.
Damien hummed thoughtfully, extending out his arm and firing a bolt of flame at them that skirted Pip and sent Cartman flying back into the granite cliff behind. "As amusing as you are, Cartman, don't you ever think you can get away with touching my property." He placed a foot on Pip's chest letting his weight do the crushing for him. "As for you, darling, how dare you allow another to sully you, especially some plebeian mortal. You're going to reek of the common touch for weeks." Pip held back tears and caressed the foot with guileless reverence.
"Jesus, Damien, are you on the rag or something? Leave him alone."
He looked across to see Cartman staggering to his feet. So he wasn't as pathetic as he used to be. That piqued Damien's interest. He stepped off from Pip's torso and he sat up in mixed relief. Damien approached the large half-demon boy and tapped his finger against his lips with a chuckle. "I can see you're going to be troublesome if you stay. If you want to get out, first you have to find the gateway. Just this once I'll be nice enough to take you there."
There was something about the way Damien spoke, almost a smug purr, which rang alarm bells in Cartman's head. But he couldn't work out the angle and he needed to see Kyle, especially after watching the interaction between Damien and Pip. It had unsettled him and part of him knew why. He looked down at Pip's shivering form, staring up at Damien as if he were the most perfect precious thing to ever exist.
"I'm not your property, Cartman…"
He blinked the memory away. "Thank you," he answered hoarsely and the other two seemed surprised at his suddenly meek demeanour. "But why would you do that?"
"Why?" Damien chuckled again. "Because I'm a teenager… and daddy will hate me for it."
Next chapter:
"If you're having trouble recognising me perhaps it's because I'm not ground up into mince and combined with three different kinds of bean," he laughed.
Although surrounded by hellfire, Cartman froze.