Cartman wasn't stupid. In fact, he was brilliant.
As much as he wanted to, Eric resisted the urge to go to school the morning after he had printed out the picture (and got very good, clear shots of certain zoomed in parts of said photo) and show everyone. No, he had since grown from the mistake he made in the fourth grade by attempting to show off that one… pretty awkward… picture with Butters.
You know how that turned out.
Instead, he kept it to himself. He would wait until he knew exactly what to do with it, and then he would use it.
But damn it was hard. He was addicted to that photo. It was like… Like heroin. He felt like a junkie, going cold turkey. It was killing him.
That picture was gold! Pure gold. It was better then the time he witnessed hearing Bebe and, not one, not two, but THREE guys doing sick things in an empty classroom. And that alone could have done so much. It was WAY better then when he slept over at Kenny's crappy house and found that lone issue of Play Girl tucked between his mattresses.
No. This was Kyle.
Stupid Jew rat, Kyle. Always messing things up for him. Always pissing him off. God, Cartman hated Kyle. This would ruin Kyle forever. Not only would this picture totally humiliate him, but it would ruin his friendship with Stan. Oh, this was good.
Cartman thought long and hard about what he should do with the photo.
He would often find himself staring at it, with lustful eyes. He reasoned with himself that he was just hungry for the Jew's defeat. He would gaze at Kyle's face, frozen in a moment where he was completely controlled. He knew that soon enough, that face would be his to see.
"Eric, do you have something you want to share with the class?"
Eric's head snapped up from his phone at looked Mr. Mackey (who was substituting for their math teacher that day) in the eye. He quickly regretted it, feeling a jolt of pain run through him.
"Ow. What?" Cartman rubbed the back of his neck, wincing.
"You have something funny? Are you instant messaging in the middle of class, Eric?" Mr. Mackey made a, 'gimmie' or 'c'mer' gesture.
Eric blinked and figured he must have been grinning. Of course. "No, Mr. Mackey. I was just thinking of how funny you are."
"Funny? I am not trying to be funny, mmk."
"Oh, I'm not talking about in class." Eric smiled and rested his chin on his palm, automatically opening a special document that was in his phone at all times for this sort of occurrence. "Here's a hint, Mr. Mackey: 'Karaoke.'"
Mr. Mackey paled slightly, but didn't drop it. "Now, Eric, I'm going to have to confiscate your phone, mmk."
"Oh? Not ringing any bells? I'll give you one more hint, then I can pass my phone, along with a certain recorded Britney Spears amateur, up to you. 'Feather Boa'."
Mr. Mackey didn't say anything for a moment. Cartman grinned and twirled his phone, open, by the antenna. He slowed down and showed Mr. Mackey the video as it played, muted, and meaningfully inched his finger to the volume button while Mackey stared.
"…And… The Pythagorean Theorem is used in this formula to find…"
Cartman nodded and closed his phone with a loud, 'snap' as Mr. Mackey went on with the lesson plan. Yeah, that's what I thought.
He felt a chill down his spine, feeling someone was watching him for a longer then the acceptable time of when Cartman did stuff like this. He looked to the left of his desk and saw immediately Kyle, who was pretending to pay attention to what Mr. Mackey was saying. Eric knew he wasn't, because he knew Kyle already knew this stuff. And if he looked carefully, Cartman could see Kyle staring directly at him through his red locks.
Cartman couldn't help it. He grinned and wiggled his fingers in a casual wave toward the Jew.
Kyle rolled his eyes and transfixed his gaze onto Stan instead.
Cartman just grinned wider and mouthed something that he wasn't sure Kyle read or not. Then, he went back into his phone and thought more of what to with the picture while he stared at it.
He did this for the remainder of the day, and whenever a teacher called him on it, he would just pull out the blackmail. He really did have something on everyone.
I… have… you… trapped.