A/N: Trigger Warning: Rape and Death. If you're uncomfortable, please don't read.

Cartman had the house all to himself; his mom was gone on what she called "Mommy-time", but who was she kidding? Cartman was in 10th grade, if he couldn't figure out by now that his mom was a prostitute, she must think incredibly low of her son. He'd known since he was just a kid, and over time, he'd even learned to no longer give a fuck.

The only thing that was concerning him recently about the situation was that she was starting to get old. Who would hire an old whore? And- more significantly- how would she continue earning money for Cartman's spoiled lifestyle? Just last week she was bitching about the price of football materials Cartman demanded from her.

Cartman himself was actually surprised he'd stuck with this football thing for so long. Since they were kids, he'd expected Stan to go the athletic way, maybe even Kyle and his stupid obsession with basketball, or possibly Kenny since he was the tallest and skinniest (and poor people had the running gene). But the coach had told him quite seriously that he would make a good lineman if he lost some fat and gained muscle mass, and Cartman was actually doing his damndest best.

Now he was working out in the basement of his house, his equipment beside his old Antonio Banderas blow-up doll he'd had for as long as he could remember. Cartman's phone vibrated and he nearly dropped the weight. Working out without having Butters spot him was a bitch. He reached for the phone and rolled his eyes.

Fuckin Bebe. Cartman had only started hanging out with her freshmen year because he wanted into Wendy's pants and Bebe was her best friend. It hadn't worked. Wendy was a major prude and goody-two-shoe. If anything, Bebe wouldn't leave Cartman alone anymore. He wasn't sure why, but he was thought it had something to do with the fact that he was a JV football player and she was a JV cheerleader. And by the time he hit Varsity, so would she.

Bebe: Hey, Eric. Are you free?

Cartman: Yeah, sure. What's up?

Bebe: Well, I have some weed, if you're up for it..?

Cartman: Dude, always up for it! Can you come to mine?

Bebe: Okay! I have to walk, though, so I'll be a while.

Cartman: That's cool. See you!

Cartman grinned. It was awesome having someone who was willing to spend just as much money as his mom on him. Actually, now that he thought about it, Bebe was really a nice piece of ass. He was just more interested in Wendy than her. But still…

Deep in thought considering sex with Bebe, Cartman was surprised when his phone rang. Butters name and a picture of the blonde in his mom's lingerie popped up on screen. Cartman chuckled; the kid was always good for a laugh.

"Hey, Butters, what's up?"

"Eric! Do you want to hang out with me today at my house?" He asked, his voice (like always) stumbling over the precise wording.

"Sorry, Butters. I'm gonna have sex in a while and I wouldn't want you feeling like a third wheel- though you could probably learn some moves from me."

"Sex? With who?" Butters sounded extraordinarily astonished.

"Bebe. She said she's bringing weed. When girls say that, they want the dick."

"Oh, but you shouldn't do drugs, Eric! Don't you remember what Mr. Mackey used to say? Don't. Do. Drugs! That's what I thought when Kenny told me, too." Butters rambled, uncomfortable again with the topic of intoxicants.

"Yeah, but Kenny's poor. Everyone knows poor people are crackheads." Cartman said mildly.

"Kenny doesn't just do it, though. He sells it." Butters sounded sad for his friend.

Cartman's jaw dropped open. "That son of a bitch. No wonder he stopped being my friend. Selfish asshole!" He yelled into the phone.

Butters hung up suddenly, intimidated by the screaming and continued topic. He stared at the phone for a moment then wondered if he had made a mistake telling Cartman about Kenny's sideway money methods. He remembered a while ago, Kenny had kissed him in the school bathroom and given him his first ever orgasm with a blowjob. Butters pretended that had never happened, but he couldn't deny that he had liked it a lot.

On the other hand, Cartman was still fuming about Kenny and how he had lost the friend that could've provided him with weed. As a result, by the time he let Bebe in through the back door, he was impatient and edgy as he lead her down to the basement.

She had already rolled the weed into a joint and was lighting it up on the long red sofa Cartman used to play "The Coon" on as a kid. She took a drag and passed it over to Cartman.

Soon, both had lost themselves in the hazy aftermath of a kick-ass high. Bebe was giggling about some stupid story that had happened earlier at cheerleading practice and the sound was beginning to get on Cartman's nerves. Mostly to shut her up, Cartman said, "Hey Bebe, I'm horny."

"Oh? Anything I can help with?" She asked demurely and began giggling again. To Cartman, her intake was like a high pitched hyena barking.

He scratched his balls and slowly replied without thinking, "Well, since Wendy's not here, you'll have to do."

That shut Bebe's laughter right up. She looked up at him, his messy brown hair and red stretched jacket over the bulging muscles and fat, his lazy eyes studying her for a reaction. "What do you mean? I thought you liked me."

"Sure I do. I like Wendy more, but I like you too, Bebe. Very much. C'mon, gimme a blowjob."

"What? No." Bebe answered, frowning. She blinked several times, struggling to think clear and backed away from him on the sofa. "No. You don't even like me; you just like my best friend? Is that why you always hung out with me?"

"Everyone knows you're good at that stuff. How else would you become a cheerleader?" Cartman winked and began unzipping his jeans.

"No, wait. Stop, Eric." Bebe stood up too quickly and her head whirled, her sense of balance failing and the world turning upside down as she landed hard on her ass on the hardwood floor. She spoke a bit more firmly, "No, Eric!"

"Just do it. What do you mean, 'no'?" He mimicked her voice in a terrible high falsetto. He slid his jeans off and laid them on the arm of the sofa. He took her wrists and pulled, and guided her closer to his crotch.

She feebly pulled back, but Cartman was too strong for Bebe's drugged condition. "Stop. Stop it. I'm going home. You're an asshole, Eric. Let me go." Her voice trembled. She tried to get away in earnest this time, succeeding in freeing one hand and using it to push away.

"No, you stupid bitch." Eric grunted, gathering both of her wrists in one beefy hand and shoving her on the sofa. "Fine, I guess we'll just have sex if you're such a slut."

"I'm not a slut. Stop it right now! You're scaring me!" Bebe cried as Cartman landed his bulk on her body, shoving his tongue down her throat. She bit his tongue, and as he drew back angrily, she yelled, "Get off me, you fat fuck!"

"I'm not fat!" Cartman yelled, now both angry, upset, and bursting with more power than he had experienced before.

Bebe's heart was racing, the drugs effect worn off as adrenaline took over. She beat her fists against Cartman, who wasn't phased in the least. He sat on her legs, gathered her hands in a single one of his own and pinned her down against the sofa hard. He slid one free hand up her skirt and began pulling her panties down.

"Stop! HELP! RAPE!" Bebe shouted at the top of her lungs.

"Basement's… soundproof… stupid… whore." Cartman growled and reacted with more fury. He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook the girl violently. She bit her tongue and whimpered in pain as he slammed her into the arm of the couch repeatedly. "Now shut… the fuck… up." He whispered in her ear, warm breath fanning across her face as Bebe's eyes widened in fear.

He positioned his dick to her entrance and grinned with a cruel glint in his eye. He thrust in and Bebe shrieked with pain, clawing at Cartman's sweater. He didn't stop, instead thrust forward with more force. Tears welled up in her eyes as she screamed until her lungs ached and her throat was hoarse. Cartman brought a hand up, keeping up his pace, and squeezed Bebe's throat.

She was sure she was bleeding and her vision was going fuzzy, but Cartman continued to choke her. When he finally let go, she wheezed and, with a bit of remaining strength, spit at Cartman. Cartman slapped Bebe across the face, her neck jolting to the side and her body went briefly slack under him as she tried to catch her breath, eyes closed in defeat and humiliation.

Cartman tensed up a moment later and came inside her. Pulling out with deliberate slowness, he stared at the lithe girl lying wasted and bruised in her torn tight red shirt. Cartman rose off her legs in satisfaction. Blood flowed back into her legs in a painful rush. Opening her eyes, squinting under the seemingly bright light, Bebe leaned over the coach and vomited.

"Aw, you stupid bitch. Look what you've done now." Cartman glared at the mess in dismay. "I'm not cleaning that shit up, you unhygienic skank." He calmly zipped his jeans back up and backed away from her. "Now you listen here, okay? You tell anyone what happened in here and I'll kill you. And trust me, I will kill you and nobody will ever find your little body again."

Bebe stood with painstaking slowness, swayed where she stood, and took a tottering step toward the entrance of the basement. Realizing she didn't have the energy to make it, she sank back on the sofa. "You're not going to get away with this." She told him, the words somehow sounding menacing despite her aching and raw vocal chords.

Cartman became infuriated again. He grabbed her arm and forced her to stand, yanking her already lolling neck back once more in the process. "I'm not getting caught and you're not telling anyone!" He screeched and smacked her across the face with the back of his open hand.

Bebe fell back out of his grasp on the floor once more. Cartman paid her no heed, turning his back and instructing her, "Now put your shit on and get the fuck out of here. And if you tell anyone, I'll have absolutely no problem convincing them you're full of shit. Mostly because you are." He added. He turned to see her still lying there. Cartman casually nudged her with his foot, and then noticed.

When he hit her, she had fallen on his weights and apparently hit her head. There was a spreading pool of blood so bright that Cartman could nearly make out his expression in it. Her blonde hair was stained crimson and the viscous substance was managing to disperse with an alarming speed. It continued to move across the wood while Cartman stared. In panic, he leaned down and cleared the hair from Bebe's face, finding the wound near the left side of her brain. Cartman futilely pressed his hands up against the injury.

"Hey, get up. Get up! Goddamn it, get up Bebe!" He yelled. He tried to pull her up but she kept slipping through his hands, now slick with her blood. Cartman took a few steps back in horror, appalled that he had a dead body lying on his floor.

The weight of the situation suddenly hit him, accompanying a wave of nausea. Cartman fought to keep from puking, as Bebe had earlier, and managed successfully. He went into overdrive mode, running to the closet and pulling out a large piece of tarp. He wrapped Bebe's body into the material with clumsy hasty moves, tying both ends with rope.

Cartman hoisted it up onto his shoulders, the package still dripping with blood and made his way to his car. He left a red handprint on every door in the house and a smattering trail of blood out to his truck. He shoved the body in, then himself, and drove fast.

Finally, Cartman stopped by the large ditch separating the Park County border with the next neighborhood over. He glanced around to make sure there weren't any watchers, then dumped Bebe's body over the brigde. He stayed only long enough to hear the splash.

Now he started plotting. He needed to not get caught; he needed a scapegoat. Cartman quickly ran through the options in his head, inventorying every student in Park County High School in his head. His initial instinct would have been to frame Kyle, but considering the Jew no longer lived in town, he skipped over that option. He briefly thought about Butters but decided nobody would possibly believe the naïve little kid had done it.

He hit Jackpot: Kenny McCormick. Drug dealer. Piss poor. Had definitely hooked up with Bebe in the past. And they'd find the drugs in Bebe's system; Kenny could easily have been the one to sell her those drugs then kill her when she refused to pay up. Cartman drove to Whistlin' Willy's and went to the phone booth. Holding an old Taco Bell napkin to mask his fingerprints, he dialed a number.

"911 Operator, state your emergency."

"This is an anonymous tip. Kenneth McCormick of South Park has killed a girl and dumped her body." Cartman said in a rough voice.

"I'm sorry? Who's this? Where is the girl? Where are you calling from?" The operator asked with urgency in her voice.

Cartman slammed the phone down and got back in his car, trying to figure out how he'd get the bloodstains off the truck seat. His own phone buzzed. Butters again.

"Hey, Eric! Sorry for bothering you, but-"

"Butters! Thank god you called! Dude, I am freaking out. Listen, there's been this accident, right? And Bebe got really hurt and now I need to make sure nobody thinks it was me." Cartman was certain Butters wouldn't tell anyone. He was too innocent.

"Accident?" Butters voice was strangled.

"Yeah, but don't worry. I called the cops and told them it was Kenny."

"Kenny!" Butters demanded.

"Yeah. The cops'll probably arrest him and I'm definitely gonna get away with it." Cartman laughed a little harsh sound.

Without thinking, Butters cut the line and ran out of his house. He knew where Kenny lived; everyone knew where he lived. He just had to find him and hope he made it in time. The running was all a blur; Butters was hardly aware when he was standing outside the small, rundown McCormick shack, knocking on the bell-less door and completely out of breath.

Inside the house, Kenny started at the sound of the bell. Nobody had any business being at his house at this time of night. He didn't deal anywhere near his house and he damn sure didn't let anyone dangerous near here. He surreptitiously felt under the couch cover and closed his fingers around the gun he'd had since middle school.

"Finish your veggies, Karen, you won't get dessert without them." Kenny instructed his little sister who was watching TV and generally ignoring her microwaved dinner plate.

"Okay, Kenny." She said, gazing up at him with adoration in her eyes.

Kenny smiled reassuringly and patted her cheek as he carefully went to the front door. "Who is it?" He asked, wishing not for the first time the door had a peephole, even a ghetto homemade one. Since his parents had both disappeared for good, Kevin had become man of the house, and that wasn't comforting to Kenny in the least. Kevin was in and out of the house all the time.

"Its… Butters." Butters called from the other side of the door, still catching his breath.

"Butters?" Kenny was confused as he pulled the door open, gun still clutched in a hand under his orange parka. It was indeed the little blonde boy on his front porch, doubled over and looking terrified. "What're you doing here? What's going on?"

"Kenny, listen to me. You need to leave."

Kenny snorted. "Are you insane?"

"I'm serious. Eric… Eric did something to Bebe and he's really scared about it and he called the cops and told them it was you and I'm really worried for you and I hate Eric Cartman!" Butters blurted all in one long sentence.

Kenny's expression instantly changed. He understood as soon as Butters told him. He marched back inside, went straight up to his room, and grabbed the duffel bag he kept for emergencies. Even if he was proven innocent in whatever Cartman was blaming him for, there was still the case of the marijuana plants growing in the backyard, of unlicensed weapon possession, of living alone without being 18 yet.

Coming back down the stairs, he saw Butters showing Karen a stupid little magic trick with his hands. She was laughing hysterically and wiping a little tear from her eyes. Kenny's heart sank. What was he going to do with his sister? He couldn't take her on the run with him; he couldn't leave her alone with Kevin. Maybe she was better off in foster care.

Kenny hugged Karen fiercely and said, "You be good, little sis. I'm going on a small break, okay? I love you." Karen cocked her head to the side, wondering what was going on. "Butters, can I talk to you?" Kenny asked quietly.

Butters shot to his feet and followed Kenny out of the house, Karen's bewildered eyes on both of them. "Look, I'm sorry! I didn't want you to get in trouble, when Eric told me, I was really upset!" Butters babbled incessantly.

"Butters!" Kenny said sharply, shutting the boy up. "You need to promise me something; take care of Karen. Don't let Kevin take care of her. She's only in 7th grade, man. You have to take care of her. I'll send you money if you need it."

Butters looked ready to protest, but then he paused. He knew it was his fault on some level for letting it slip to Cartman. His guilt would drive him crazy. "Okay," he agreed, "I'll convince my parents; I'll keep her in my room."

"And if she gets hurt, I'm coming for you, Butters." Kenny threatened in a quieter voice, which somehow made it seem all the more scary.

In the distance, both boys heard the sound of a siren. Kenny felt for the gun, adjusted the bag on his shoulder, and said gruffly, "Go on and get her out of here. Don't let the cops catch her in this house. Tell them you haven't seen me in a while and Karen's been staying with you until I came back." Kenny turned to leave, then stopped. "Butters? Thanks." Kenny hesitated and finally kissed Butters on the cheek.

Then he was sprinting down the broken street under the flickering streetlamps and Butters was scrambling inside to get Karen gone before the police came.

A/N: I hope you all liked it! Please review and let me know how I'm doing so far!