Life

Chapter 2 – Home Sweet Home

Sorry for the long wait for this chapter, but I haven't had much time to write recently. Anyway, here we go – this is Cartman's (and South Park's) future.

I don't own South Park – just this story. Honest.

Eric Cartman stepped out into the blazing sunlight, clutching the small plastic bag that held his worldly belongings close to his chest. One of the guards that flanked him glanced at him and asked:

"Watcha gonna do, Eric?"

"Fucked if I know, Chad."

Cartman was 33 now, still as fat as he had ever been (even 7 years of prison food hadn't cured his weight problem), and his light brown mop of unruly hair was beginning to recede.

7 years, Cartman thought, as he breathed in the crisp Californian air. 7 years is a helluva long time to be stuck anywhere, but 7 years in Colorado State Penitentiary is a fucking eternity. And what had he done? What was his actual crime, apart from losing several million people their life savings and almost bringing down the American financial system? The judge had called it "the biggest fraud in corporate history." Cartman pulled a face. Fraud was such a faggy crime. Why did he have to get done for that?

Now, 7 years into his 10 year sentence, he was being released, all thanks to a new Government scheme called the Prisoner Work Release Program, which was some crap about rehabilitating prisoners in the workplace. Companies would get to choose a prisoner to take on and 'rehabilitate', and in return would get a nice chunk of taxpayers' money for their trouble. Cartman and a few others had been chosen for the program thanks partly to good behaviour and the nature of their crimes.

The firm that had chosen Cartman was called KMC Enterprises, which was based in his old hometown of South Park. Cartman had never heard of it, and had no idea who ran it. He hadn't been back to South Park since his mom's funeral. He lowered his head and blinked quickly a few times, pain stabbing across his chest. Liane Cartman had died of a heart attack shortly after his conviction, and in all the time he'd been inside, he'd never cried once. To cry in prison would mean being called a pussy, and be buttfucked regularly until the end of your sentence. No-one was going to call Eric Cartman a pussy.

The chaplain who had broken the news had told Cartman the heart attack was probably brought on by the stress of the trial but, deep down, Cartman knew that his mom had simply died of a broken heart. He swallowed hard, ignoring the hotness behind his eyes. There would be time for that later.

He looked up just in time to see a white stretch limo pulling up in front of him. Chad the guard whistled appreciatively.

"Looks like your ride's here, Eric."

"Who the hell…" Cartman tried to peer in, but the windows were tinted. Suddenly the back door nearest him opened. He walked to it and leant in. A good looking blond haired man wearing a black Armani suit, who looked around the same age as himself, motioned for him to get in, and said:

"Get in Eric. Let's get you out of this hellhole." He glanced quickly at Chad. "No offence, man."

Cartman climbed in and sat next to the man. The interior of the car was amazing, with leather seats, a small fridge and a plasma TV. He sat back and closed his eyes, inhaling the smell of leather and the guy's exotic aftershave. He listened to the soft hum of the limo's engine as it sped him away from the place he'd called home for 7 years, and back to the place he'd called home for almost 20. He opened his eyes and looked across at Blondie, who was smiling at him in a way that made him feel unnerved.

"It's been a long time, Cartman," he said.

"Am I supposed to know you?" Cartman asked rudely.

"Well, I was kinda hoping you would," Blondie replied. "We were best friends, once."

Cartman stared at him. He had been the most hated person in South Park, so he hadn't had many friends - just Stan, Kyle and…

"Kenny?!" His eyes widened as he finally recognised the man sitting next to him.

"Yep! It's me!" Kenny said. He pretended to wipe his brow. "Phew! I'm glad you got there. That could've been embarrassing. I mean, I go to all this trouble to help you and you don't even recognise me…" He forced a little laugh as the atmosphere in the limo suddenly became awkward.

"So, um, you work for KMC Enterprises?" Cartman said, trying to defuse the tension.

"No, I am KMC Enterprises," Kenny said. Cartman stared at him blankly. "KMC…Kenny McCormack. The clue's in the title," he added testily.

The two men sat in silence for a short time, staring out of their respective windows at the Colorado landscape.

"You still blame me, don't you."

Kenny turned to look at Cartman. "For what?" he asked.

"For losing your goddamn house all those years ago!" Cartman shouted. "You've never forgiven me for that, even though it wasn't my fault!" He stared moodily out of the window again.

"Dude, you got me all wrong!" Kenny said defensively. "Sure, I was mad at you at the time, but that was like, 20 years ago! A lot's changed for me since then. In fact, I should probably thank you. It was when we lost the house that I realised I couldn't rely on other people to bail me out all the time. If it wasn't for you, I'd probably still be living on handouts. I wouldn't be a billionaire right now."

"You're a billionaire?" Cartman asked incredulously.

"Yep," Kenny said, smiling proudly. "Not that I like to brag, or anything." He opened the fridge. "You want a beer?"

Cartman took the bottle he was offered and popped it open, still staring at Kenny. He took a long drink. "Jesus Christ," he said when he came up for air. "I've been away a long time, man."

*

Cartman was pretty well oiled by the time they reached South Park, having not had beer for so long, naturally, it went straight to his head. He sat slumped in the limo's leather seat, with a woozy grin on his face and a few beer bottles scattered around his ankles.

"Well, here we are," Kenny said.

Cartman pulled himself up and peered out through the window to get a glimpse of his old home. Instead of the usual multi-coloured houses and shops, all he saw was a tall grey wall with barbed wire running along the top. A metal door was built into it. Kenny pushed a button on his armrest and the door slid open, admitting them. When the limo passed through, it slid closed again. The wall stretched out all around the edge of South Park, casting a dark shadow over the small mountain town. Cartman stared, hardly able to believe his eyes. South Park was literally walled off from the world.

"What the hell's going on?" he asked. He could feel sobriety starting to kick in, and he didn't like it.

"What, you mean the wall?" Kenny said brightly. He chuckled. "Everybody's a little shocked when they see that, but it's purely for security reasons. You see, my company develops technology for NASA and many other agencies, so it's very top secret. We had some security breaches a while back, hence the wall."

"And people don't mind that there's a great big fucking wall around the town?"

Kenny shrugged. "They're okay with it. It's not to keep them in; it's to keep certain people out. The townspeople know they can come and go as they please."

The limo pulled on to Main Street, or what was left of it. All the shops and other businesses that Cartman had known in his childhood were either boarded up or in a severe state of disuse. Even Tom's Rhinoplasty had gone. Only a few select stores, like the 99c store, were open. And then there were the townspeople. Everybody looked so miserable. A few of them looked up as the limo went past, but most deliberately looked away. Cartman had that same unnerving feeling he'd had when he'd first seen Kenny. What the hell was going on here?

"Hey, Jason," Kenny spoke into an intercom near the door. "Pull over here, will you?"

The limo pulled over to the kerb and Kenny scooted across the seat, leant past Cartman and pushed a button on the door. The window slid down and sunlight streamed in, almost blinding Cartman.

"Hey, Clyde!" Kenny shouted. "Come here!"

Cartman recognised Clyde Donovan instantly as he sauntered over to the limo. He still had the same baby face, although he was a lot thinner than he used to be, and his dark brown hair was nearly shoulder length. Cartman couldn't help thinking that he looked like a homeless hippie, rather than the guy who'd been offered a scholarship at Yale.

Clyde bent down and peered into the limo. He looked at Cartman, then Kenny. "Yeah?"

"Why aren't you at work?" The question sounded friendly enough, but Cartman noticed an edge to Kenny's voice.

Clyde suddenly looked nervous, and mumbled something that Cartman didn't catch.

"Oh, I see, okay." Kenny nodded for a moment, looking thoughtful. "How's Craig?" he asked blithely.

"C-Craig?"

"Yeah, you know, Craig? Craig Tucker. Your little fuck-buddy."

Clyde looked taken aback. "I don't…I, uh, um…"

"If you wanna screw Craig, you do it on your time, not mine," Kenny said sternly. "Don't think that just because I leave town for a few hours you can do whatever the hell you want. This is gonna mean some serious overtime, buddy. Don't be late."

The window slid closed and Kenny pressed the intercom again. "Okay, go, Jason."

Cartman glanced back at Clyde and saw him flip the limo off as it pulled away.

"Clyde and Craig?" he asked Kenny, eyebrows raised. "When did that happen? The last I heard, Craig was boning Tweek."

"Tweek died six months ago," Kenny replied. "Clyde's been comforting Craig in the only way he knows how."

The limo left Main Street and travelled down a street that was all too familiar to Cartman. His friend Stan Marsh had lived down here, although it seemed that his old house, along with most of the others, had been knocked down and replaced by a large, ugly, sprawling mansion. Yet another wall, a brick one this time, surrounded it, and a couple of wrought iron gates with KMC in gold lettering across them stood in front of it. They swung open as the limo approached. The limo travelled up a long gravel drive and parked in front of the house. Cartman recognised another of his old classmates, Kevin, as he hurried out of the mansion to greet them. It seemed like Kenny had half of South Park working for him.

"Welcome home, Cartman, " Kenny said, as they clambered out of the limo.

Cartman looked at the mansion, then at the town's wall with its menacing barbed wire, and finally at the dilapidated Main Street. The feeling of unease that had been inside him since they'd entered South Park had gotten worse. There was something very wrong here. He shook his head.

"Home sweet fucking home."

Chapter 3 up soon…