Author's note: I hadn't planned for the next chapter to take this long to finish. I also hadn't planned to end the chapter here originally, but I'd rather get something out there sooner and leave my readers wanting more. I hope you'll all stick with this story. As you can hopefully see after reading this chapter, the most exciting is yet to come. Please read and review? Thanks.

/

As the cellular phone rang in his ear, Cartman continued watching the pornographic images on his computer's screen. He didn't want to. The sight of his girlfriend grinding under the covers with a dirty Jew rat made Cartman want to gouge his eyes out. Yet, he just couldn't will himself to look away. It was like staring at a car crash. Except normally when Cartman saw a car wreck he was amused. This time he was just angry.

Okay, not just angry. Horny! Cartman felt fucking horny. He hated admitting that fact, even to himself, but the hard bulge pressing uncomfortably against his pants made it impossible to deny. In Cartman's opinion Wendy was still hot as hell no matter what, or who, she was doing. He listened intently as she moaned another man's name. His mouth drooled as Wendy's succulent breasts bounced up and down; her hands gripping Kyle's afro, making the redhead look her dead in the eyes in a moment of what Cartman assumed was intimacy. Wendy whipped her long, silky hair from side to side in apparent pleasure, while Cartman's face grew red from both rising rage and flushing cheeks. Slowly, reluctantly, Cartman's eyes started to water. His lover was tainting herself forever. She was ruining their relationship. It was a tragedy. A sexy tragedy.

Cartman didn't have time to cry. The cell phone's ringing ceased. The phone made a clicking sound. The person on the other line finally answered.

"Dude, leave me alone. I'm sick."

"You're going to be sick as hell when you see this! Get over to my house right now!"

"Why?"

"Because you're good with computers and everyone else is in school right now. Goddammit this is important!"

The voice sighed in defeat. "Fine, I'll be there in ten minutes."

"Good. Hurry up, Stan!"

/

Stan Marsh entered Eric Cartman's bedroom a few minutes later. His eyes were half-closed. He was holding a tissue against his face, coughing into it and using it to catch the snot that dripped out of his nose. Cartman saw none of it. The fat boy didn't even say hello. He was still too fixated on the computer. Stan cursed himself for once again listening to one of Cartman's demands.

"All right Cartman. What the hell's so important that you had to get me out of…."

Shock quickly consumed Stan's face just as it had done Cartman's before. Words no longer able to escape his dropped jaw, Stan pointed to the computer's monitor. Was he seeing what he thought he was seeing, or was the current illness creating mirages in Stan's mind? Cartman stood up from his computer chair, his own eyes remaining focused on Kyle and Wendy.

"Sit down. I need you to make me a copy of this. Upload it online. Do something. Hurry up. It's only going to play once."

"…"

Stan captained the seat, still unable to believe what he was viewing. He didn't touch the computer, choosing instead to merely get a closer look at things. Cartman stood at Stan's side, waiting for the other boy to make a move. When nothing happened, he waved a hand in front of Stan's face.

"Stan? Can you hear me?"

"Is…Is that….?"

Cartman sighed. "Yes. Kahl and Wendy made a porno together. A porno I need a copy of," he reiterated.

"Isn't that your copy? You didn't…film this, did you?"

"No! Wendy gave it to me to piss me off. We got into this whole big fight about porn and…" Cartman observed the clock on the video's length counting down. "Look I don't have time to go into it."

Stan frowned. "Dude…Not cool. Since when has Kyle been into Wendy?"

"How the hell should I know? Now can you make me a copy or not?"

Stan raised an eyebrow. "Maybe. What are you going to do with it?"

"Ruin their lives of course," Cartman said casually.

Stan blinked, the frown on his face growing longer. "How could they do something like this? This doesn't seem like them. When Wendy was my girlfriend we never did anything crazy like that. And Kyle…I didn't even think Kyle liked girls let alone Wendy."

"Well clearly you thought wrong!" Cartman said, pointing an accusing finger toward the screen. "Look Stan you can share your gay little feelings with Kahl for not telling you about this later. Right now we have to move it!"

This was obviously very important to Cartman. He didn't even take the time to slam Kyle with a gay joke following Stan's comment about being suspicious that the Jew didn't like women. It was such an easy setup too.

"I can't." Stan finally said.

"What?"

"I can't help you, Cartman. Even if I wanted to I can already tell you the security on here's way too strong. Besides, I don't want to help you blackmail Wendy and Kyle. Even if I'm upset with him right now, Kyle's still my best friend and Wendy's still my friend. And you're…well, not."

Cartman rolled his eyes. Why did his stupid friends all have to be so moralistic? "Well I can't just let them get away with this. I have to do something," Cartman said while glaring at the monitor.

Stan took hold of the computer's mouse, moving the on-screen arrow toward the giant red X mark in the upper right corner of the screen. Cartman's fat hand took hold of Stanley's, stopping him.

"Whoa, whoa! What are you doing?"

"I'm turning it off. You can't get a copy so why would you want to see more of this?"

"I just uh…"

Cartman's eyes darted from side to side as he tried to think up a reasonable explanation. He could come up with none, because love didn't make any sense to begin with. Love didn't rely on reason or logic to function. Neither did hormones. They were both feelings that existed separately and independently from rational thought. Even when one's head screamed that hormones and love should not get involved, at the end of the day they would feel how they felt regardless of what any brain cells dictated or how much sense it may or may not have made. The love/hormone combination could make a person say and do all sorts of insane things, and right now Eric Cartman was caught under their powerful spell. He didn't need a reason for any of it. He completed his thought.

"…It's hot, dude!"

Stan narrowed his eyes. "I don't think so," he spat somewhat venomously. "I don't see how it can be hot at all watching someone you love do that. Just the thought of it makes me sick."

"Everything makes you sick; you've got a weak stomach," Cartman reminded his friend.

Stan's eyes went from narrowed to closed. "Cartman please, I can't look at this anymore. Just let me turn it off." Stan's voice cracked as he spoke, almost begging for the video to end. Cartman, ever observant, noticed this and tightened his grip on Stanley's hand.

"No! Stan I want to see this!"

"WELL I DON'T! I can't look at this anymore! I can't listen!" Stan screamed.

Stan struggled with Cartman a moment for control over the computer's mouse, but Stan was too upset to truly fight for long. Each moan from the on-screen couple seemed to make his strength grow weaker. His arm finally went limp. He wiggled his hand out from under Cartman's and hurried out of the bedroom, because unlike Cartman, Stan's tears were starting to fall. Cartman stared after the departing boy a moment. He thought about giving chase. That idea was abandoned as soon as the movie's panting and moaning increased in both number and volume. With a hand creeping down his extra tight pants, Cartman watched in amazement as the dirty Jew apparently reached his peak under the covers along with Wendy.

Cartman's Wendy.

/

The fat boy waddled into the home's bathroom following the video's end. Stan was already inside blowing his once again running nose and drying his newly reddened eyes. Cartman ripped a piece of toilet paper from the wall's roll and stuffed it down the front of his pants.

"Dude!" Stan said disgustedly. He was able to see Cartman's action through the bathroom mirror's reflection. He wished to God he hadn't.

"I told you it was hot." Cartman gave an unapologetic shrug of his shoulders. "Now you mind telling me what the hell that gay little outburst was about?"

Stan faced away from the mirror so that there would be no mistaking which of the two boys in the room he was glaring his eyes at. "You know what, Cartman? You need to shut your fat fucking mouth with that 'gay' talk. I come over here when I was too sick to even go to school to help you; you show me that when I get here, and now you wanna call me names? You say one more thing and I swear to God I'm gonna kick your ass!"

Cartman cocked his head to the side. Something was going on here. He had a question nagging his mind that needed to be asked. He made sure to phrase it in a way that wouldn't get his ass kicked.

"Stan? Tell me something. In a non-gay way…what, exactly, crawled up your ass?"

Stan clutched the sink as if it were keeping him from falling to the tiled floor. His emotional reaction had been too obvious. He couldn't hide anymore. Cartman would only continue to pry until he got an answer. Stan knew that whether he liked it or not, the time had come to explain himself.

"…I like Kyle."

To Be Continued