A week later, Cartman finally knew what to do with the blackmail.
It was so perfect, so simple, so obvious. Why hadn't he thought of it sooner?
After school on Wednesday, he met Kyle at Stan's dad's truck in the parking lot, where Kyle usually waits for Stan to get out of football practice to drive him home.
Kyle showed up right on time.
"Oh, man. Cartman, school's over. Can't you just wait to try and insult me tomorrow?" Kyle rolled his eyes and hopped up to sit in the bed, getting comfortable for the half an hour wait for Stan.
Cartman couldn't help but grin. Kyle had no idea. No idea at all. It was funny, really. "Nice to see you too, Jew."
"Fuck you, fatass." Kyle said offhandedly, hoping it would send Eric away as he pulled out his homework.
Cartman shrugged, still smiling. There was a good icebreaker.
"No thanks, Kyle. I think you would rather fuck Stan." Unseen, Eric's hand pulled out a few four by six copies of the picture and some zoom shots from his back pocket.
Kyle gave Cartman a look, like, what the hell are you talking about? Cartman chuckled.
"Oh, that's right; you would rather get fucked by Stan." He waved the pictures in front of Kyle's face, who just gave a confused look. "Have a look-see. I have tons more, so you can just keep those."
Kyle stared at Cartman, the same look he gave him that time in Math. Finally, he just sighed and mumbled. "You are such an idiot, Cartman…" And he took the pictures from Eric's hand.
Cartman turned around and leaned with his back against the truck while Kyle looked. He looked through the corner of his eye and saw Kyle pale and flush at the same time, however that worked. He grinned, wide, and heard Kyle shuffle through the pictures, panicked.
He turned back around when the shuffling stopped and saw that Kyle was staring intently at the one shot of just Kyle's face. "Oh," Cartman said, smiling. "That one's my favorite too."
Kyle was pale as fuck and if Cartman didn't know any better he would have thought he would puke. Luckily, Kyle had a stronger stomach than Stan. "Why, Kyle..." Eric said with a mock-concerned tone. "You're white as a sheet. Are you not well?" He gently put his hand on Kyle's forehead.
"Don't fucking touch me, you asshole!" Kyle screamed much, much too loudly and quickly pulled back from Cartman's hand. Eric didn't like that, but didn't let it show and grinned instead.
"Don't… don't touch… me…" Kyle mumbled and crumpled the one print of him. He took a moment to settle his mind. Once he stopped shaking, Cartman thought it was safe to get closer. He folded his arms and rested his head on them, smiling.
"Pick your next words very carefully, Kyle. They could be the ones that judge just what I do with these pictures."
Eric leaned lower and looked up under Kyle's hair into his eyes, only to find that the pupils seemed to be dilated, crazed even. He wondered if Kyle was having a mental attack, or an asthma attack, or what.
He tried not to flinch when Kyle's hand quickly darted to his back pack and dug around briefly, pulling out his inhaler.
Cartman grinned. He didn't know he could have that affect on Kyle. It just… turned him on.
Once Kyle seemed calmed down, Cartman regained his own breath. "You hear me, Jew?" He asked, not wanting to repeat himself. Kyle took mind to what the other said, and only nodded. He mumbled something inaudible.
Cartman quickly climbed into the truck bed. He wanted it to be clear that he wanted to hear the next words Kyle said. He crawled over Kyle's legs, straddling him, and got to be a literal inch from the Jew's face. Kyle seemed unfazed, defeated. God, Cartman loved that look. Cartman leaned down to whisper in Kyle's ear.
"I'm sorry," He said, his breath in the Jewish boy's ear in a very odd way. "What was that?" He moved so Kyle could tell him.
"What do you want?"