It's Buttman, Baby!
Summary – After a prophetic dream, Cartman awakes convinced that he must finish what Hitler began. To begin with, he'll have to start the perfect Aryan race, and there is only one boy with the genes for that.
Warning – everything Cartman-related, i.e. extreme anti-Semitism, cursing, offensive language; and now really cute gayness!
Disclaimer – South Park is owned by Trey Parker and Matt Stone, both of whom I idolize and do not wish to profit from their marvelous work
A/N – To clarify, their ages are as you see them on the show.
Butters wasn't really sure how, but moments after their conversation in the hallway he found himself sitting on a baby blue exam table, twiddling his thumbs and waiting for someone to please, please tell him what was going on. When the door opened, he let out a sigh of relief. Oh, the doctor's here.
"Hello young man," Cartman said in a calm, dignified voice. "How are you feeling today?"
"E-eric," Butters blinked. "Are you a doctor now?"
"When I need to be," Cartman replied smoothly. "Now, I will be performing a check-up on your condition. This will determine whether or not you're suitable for the job I have for you."
"Well, gosh, I hope I'm alright."
"First, I need to examine your eyes. Open 'em. Open 'em wide, Butters. C'mon! You can open 'em wider than that!"
"I'm doing the best I can!"
"Alright, fine, that's good enough. Let me see…" Cartman peered in, humming softly in thought as he studied the balls of Butters' eyes, and then pulled out a paint sample. "I see these are of a…sky blue hue. Perhaps even a more saturated maya blue. Very nice, very nice."
"My eyes are okay, doctor?"
"Yes, now I would need a hair sample."
"Why would you need s-something like that?"
"To figure out how healthy your hair is, retard," Cartman snorted. "And to make sure that's not dyed blond. I know you thought you could trick me."
"Well, doctor, I—Ooouuuch!" Butters cried as Cartman yanked a sizeable clump of hair from the back of his head. "W-why, that was more than just one strand!"
"Who said I was just taking one strand?" Cartman said, bringing out the microscope. He dutifully placed the hairs on a medical slide with some drops of water and slid the other one on top, and now began to study Butters' hair most carefully under the lens. "My. God."
"What?" Butters cried. No literally, he was weeping just a little bit.
"Dude. You are fucking perfect." Cartman threw off his white lab coat, as well as his stethoscope, otoscope, tongue depressor, tape measure, and soon Butters watched unblinkingly as Cartman threw off his monthly allowance, flame thrower, guitar hero controller, bus pass, wad of membership cards, and a casa bonita key chain. He quickly picked up his monthly allowance though. "Alright, we need to go make a baby right now!"
With that, he rushed out the door. Butters stared down at his thumbs. "A baby? B-but I'm awful young to start having these sort of responsibilities—"
"Butters!" Cartman roared, "Get your ass over here, now!"
"Well, alright."
The next day on the playground, Stan, Kyle, and Kenny found Butters reading a how-to book on parenting.
"Wow," Stan observed, "Butters is really taking this thing seriously."
Kyle let out an annoyed huff. "Yeah, I can't believe it!"
Stan blinked. "…Dude. I know you're upset about what Cartman said—"
"Of course I'm upset!"
"—but that still doesn't mean you should hog all the lines to yourself."
"…What?"
"Yeah. Sometimes, you just need to step aside and allow other characters to speak out. Like Kenny here, he always has something to say."
"Wray righh whi wha ruwing wo way."
"See? I understand that what Cartman said can seem offensive, maybe even hurtful, but that doesn't mean that it's not true. Your angry Jew persona has taken up way too many lines. Sorry, dude, just telling it like it is."
"…Urrghhhh!" Kyle threw up his arms and yelled into the sky.
"Well, hiya fellas!" Butters called, looking up. "Kyle, you look awful angry."
"I'm. Fine."
"Yeah, so what are you doing, Butters?" Stan asked. "Did Cartman actually convince you to make a baby?"
"Well, sort of. He's still arguing with the hospital a-about whether we're allowed to or not. I wasn't sure what to do, with all this waiting around, so I decided to start reading this book," Butters patted the cover happily. "It's real interesting. Some of the stuff is awful wrong though. My dad never hesitated before yelling at me and calling me a-all sorts of things."
"Doesn't your dad also beat you and ground you for no reason?"
"'Course...don't your folks do that?"
"FUCK!" Cartman's voice carried over from the other side of the playground. "I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!"
"Uh-oh," Butters muttered, and they all watched as the door slammed open to reveal a red-faced, furious Cartman striding their way.
"Guys, can you believe it?" Cartman shouted. "The average test tube baby costs seventy-two-thousand dollars. Seventy-two-thousand! Where the fuck am I supposed to get seventy-two thousand dollars?"
"Oh," Butters looked at his book. "Gosh darn it. Well, I guess I won't be needing this anymore."
"Don't you chicken out on me, Butters!" Cartman snapped instantly, pointing his finger accusingly. "You're gonna father a bajillion little Aryan babies, if it's the last thing I do! So help me, Hitler!"
From across the playground, the girls watched as Cartman yelled. "I wonder what's going on," Wendy wondered.
"From the sounds of it, Cartman is trying to convince Butters to have a test tube baby with him," Bebe said. "A lot, actually. A bajillion test tube babies. How much is a bajillion again?"
"A lot."
"Ew," Red said, "why would anyone want to have a baby with Cartman?"
"I don't know," Bebe said, "I think it's kind of cute that Cartman seems so devoted to Butters as the father of his child."
"Hey, yeah!" Annie cried. "Do you think they're going out?"
"Ooh, maybe they're planning on getting married!"
Wendy raised an eyebrow. "Is gay marriage even allowed in Colorado?"
"Who knows?"
"I think their bravery should be commended," Bebe said. "Girls, we should all show support for their baby. It is, after all…the Buttman Baby."
"Yeah…that makes sense," Wendy said slowly. "Butters. Cartman. Their baby would be a fat, blond Buttman!"
"To the Buttman Baby!" They all cheered, and clinked their juice boxes in agreement.
A/N - Hands up if you caught that That's-What-He-Said.