Don't no-one tell Kyle's dick what to do.

"Hey Kyle, can I ask you something personal?" Kenny lowered his voice conspiratorially once Butters and Stan left for the court. At Kyle's nod they went to a different bench from Wendy and he shyly continued, "When we used to… y'know… it felt good, right? I didn't hurt you?"

"A little but…" Kyle considered his answer carefully. "There's always a bit of a sting in my experience. But that's kind of the pleasurable part, at least for me. Does that make any sense?"

"Like how picking a scab is fun."

"Dude, sick. Only you could compare sex and scabs, Kenny." He wrapped his ushanka's ear flaps around and under his chin in deep thought. "You can make it easier by concentrating on relaxation and lubrication. But that's about all you can do."

"Shit. Was hoping there was a trick to it."

"Sorry dude. Have you and Butters not…?"

"Oh no, we have," said Kenny lowering himself onto the seat beside Kyle with a sour face. "But I had a feeling I was a little gung-ho when I jumped on his dick. Regretting it now, I tell ya." He wished he had his phone out because Kyle's face was a picture. "What's up?"

"Just didn't expect… um…"

"I thought it best. I didn't want to scare him off if it did hurt." He squeezed his eyes shut. "Which it did."

"Don't worry about it, Kenny. Before you know it you'll be riding penises like the pro you were born to be. Just be careful and don't let gravity take over in that position or you'll get a dick in your lung."

Kenny howled and gripped his side. "You bastard! Don't make me laugh right now." Kyle was sympathetic; he'd had his fair share of morning aches.

Kenny's laughter faded when Kyle squeezed his hand and said, "I'm happy for you. Really."

"Thanks. I was worried you might be a little pissed. Especially since…" Kenny let the rest of the sentence fall away naturally.

A loud whistle from the direction of the gates distracted Kyle before he could reply and he almost pushed Kenny off the bench when he saw Cartman leaning against the wire fence. He excused himself and breathlessly ran after Cartman into the nearby woods, flinging his arms around him once the coast was clear and kissing every exposed part of him he could reach. Cartman helpfully tilted his neck in accordance to Kyle's exploring mouth thinking to himself that he really should disappear more often if this was going to be his reception.

He forgot what happened the last time he left Kyle.

"You asshole!" Kyle yelped, hitting Cartman's chest frantically. "How could you do that to me AGAIN!"

Cartman waved his arms around for defence. "It's not like I had a choice. Satan dragged me away."

"Really?" Kyle stopped.

"Of course. Why would I wanna be away from you?"

He wrinkled his nose. "Dude, come on. That's so sappy."

"You're totally falling for it though, right?"

"Yes," Kyle murmured, kissing Cartman's smirk away. "Sorry I got so worked up. I was scared you weren't coming back."

"Me too." Cartman wrapped himself, wings and all, around Kyle. "M'not going anywhere again. I promise."

Kyle sighed happily into his neck, relishing the intimate warmth. "Hey, what exactly did Satan want with you?" he asked as a sudden afterthought.

"Oooh er…" Cartman shut his eyes and waited for the onslaught of more hitting. "Basically he yelled at me for having sex with you. He failed to stipulate that I'm not supposed to fuck anyone. So we should probably stop in case of… you know… smitey smitey."

"What?" Kyle's scream erupted from under the flailing wings. "Who the fuck does he think he is? Where is he now? I'm going to give him a piece of my fucking mind!"

"He's at 221B Baker Street, where do you think? He's in Hell, dipshit."

Cartman watched on, slightly terrified, as Kyle paced around seething with New Jersey fury and grumbling under his breath, "Not going to let that son of a bitch tell me what to do with my dick. After the game we're going to spend the whole day disobeying Satan."

Cartman liked the sound of that. "But what if he does… smitey smitey."

Kyle faltered in his steps. "Shit yeah… he already took you away once."

"Shouldn't matter anyway. Apparently I can leave whenever I want – like a fag out of Hell. Satan doesn't seem to realise."

"Or he does and he's playing the long game," Kyle worried at his lips, opening an old wound he made that morning when he woke up anxious and alone. "Something doesn't sit right. I don't like it."

"So we are going to stop fucking?" Cartman's wings hung limply behind.

He shook his head. "No way. I'm just saying we need to be prepared to punch him in the dick if he comes after us."

"You're so hot when you talk about defying the Prince of Darkness, Kahl."

Kyle laughed. "Thanks. Come on we should get back. Oh and I have great news – Kenny and Butters are engaged."

Cartman gasped camply. "Omigawd, my babies are getting married! I hope that stupid bastard didn't waste all my money on a ring."

"Nah, they looked pretty basic to me. But nice." They looked at each other, the same bleak thought passing through them simultaneously. Wordlessly they linked hands and walked back to the courts wondering what kind of rings they would have picked out if given the chance.

Cartman had expected some kind of double-cross to occur when Damien had so ambivalently shown him the gateway to Hell but he simply left him there and patted his thigh for Pip, calling him like a dog. He disappeared into the same type of smoke cloud that his father had knowing Pip would follow in his own time. He didn't dare not to. Cartman brushed Pip's arm with his and in a low whisper – because he didn't doubt that the walls in Hell had ears – he said, "Look I'm not very good at this but uh, you know you can do better right?"

His smile was beautifully sad in its defeat. "You're sweet to say so, but you're wrong."

Cartman saw he wasn't going to win this particular battle. "Well if you're ever on Earth, maybe we can hang? You're not so bad I guess."

"Hmm, are you sure you don't just want more treats?"

"Aw you saw right through me."

Pip giggled, producing a bag of Cheesy Poofs from behind his back. "One for the road, as they say."

"Sweet!"

He stepped back as Cartman took the gift and tore it open hungrily. "I look forward to the next episode," Pip remarked.

"The next what?" He looked up but Pip had already gone. Cartman threw the rest of the bag down his throat, savouring it whilst he could, licked his fingers clean then took a good look at the gateway. It seemed a lot like the viewing portals except it stood in the middle of the path rather than embedded into a wall. People were tumbling out of it in an almost constant stream, screaming or crying or in voiceless shock. He supposed it depended on their death and personality as to what their reaction to the end of their mortality would be.

He was approaching the gateway when a hand landed on his back. "In or out?" a moustachioed man asked him.

"Out."

"You want the other side. Obviously."

"Oh obviously," Cartman sarcastically echoed. He marched past the wailing throng of Deceased waiting to be initiated into Hell and around the other side of the gateway.

"Is there really such a rush, boy?"

He squinted past the glowing edges of the portal. "Stop following me, asshole."

"Ah, so I don't look familiar then, Eric?"

He squinted again. "Actually…"

"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.

The man cocked his head to casually regard the petrified boy. "Don't worry about running for it. I'm not here for revenge. Besides, if I wanted to corner you, I wouldn't do it right next to the easiest escape route around."

"I guess not. How have you been, Mr. Tenorman?"

"Not so bad. You've been doing very well for yourself, all things considered. Gerald's boy has turned into a nice young fellow, hasn't he?"

Cartman's wings flexed restlessly.

"But I have small confession to make – I'm the one who convinced Satan to bring you back early."

"You fucking what?!" Cartman yelled. Where was a meat grinder when he needed one? He settled for grabbing at the slim black tie hung around Jack's neck and wrenching him closer.

"Now now, hear me out," Jack said calmly. "He was going to punish both of you, did you really want that? I'm just looking out for my boy." Cartman released the tie and Jack sighed, bringing his hands back up to rub his temples wearily. "My wife is on a different level of Hell from me, and Scott is still alive. You're all I have, son."

"So you convinced Satan to bring me here just so you could hang with your illegitimate kid. Even if you thought I wouldn't kick you in the nuts for that, you must've figured Satan would have a bug up his ass about it. He's not gonna like being played like that."

"With your help, that won't matter."

"My help?"

"You really have no idea what you are. What those mean." He gestured to Cartman's wings as they stretched out with a long slow flap. "Allow me to demonstrate." He flexed his shoulders and Cartman was thrown back at the gust of air that accompanied the sudden burst of wings from behind Jack.

He stared at them, extremely irritated that he now owed Kyle an apology for saying retractable wings were a stupid concept. "You've got to show me how to do that."

"I'd be happy to. But you'd need to stay here for a while."

Cartman stuck out his fingers. "Screw you pops, I'm going home."

"That's an awful shame. There's so much I could teach you about being a demon. And in turn you could help me exact a little revenge on Satan."

Cartman decided to ignore the term 'demon' for the moment. There was something far more interesting that Jack had just said. "Revenge, huh?"

"You don't think he deserves a little something for dragging you between worlds? Teasing you with just one night with Kyle."

"You've been watching me."

"I like to take an interest in my children's lives."

"Okay," said Cartman standing up with feet apart and arms crossed. "I'm all ears."

Next chapter:

Damien slowly removed the dark cloak from Pip's fleshless shoulders and hung it calmly on the bedroom door. Pip silently awaited the backlash, the slew of angry slurs and condemnation that would eventually burst forth from him but all Damien managed was a wistful chuckle as he relaxed back into the pillows on his bed, smirking down his body at the English boy's bemused expression. "Cock's don't suck themselves, Pip."