Cartman had missed Wendy during lunch, only discovering later on the bus from Kenny that she'd been placed in detention.
"Damn!" he exclaimed, "What'd that crazy bitch do?"
"Well, I heard she punched Heidi in the stomach," Kenny replied.
"And I missed it? Aww, I always miss the fun shit!" Cartman whined. A starstruck expression grew on Kenny's face.
"Yeah…that would've been super hot." Cartman shot him a capricious look.
"This is why you're always getting caught with porn, dude." Kenny never bothered to respond to any of the accusations leveled at him, mostly because he fully agreed with them.
"Don't forget to come over tomorrow," Kenny commented, "The new movie I got is gonna blow your socks off!" Cartman chortled.
"Dude, I'm not blowing anything offat your place".
Cartman stepped off the bus and began the short, snowy journey toward his house. He wondered if his mother had returned from her "date" yet. The answer to his inquiry was quickly made apparent. The house was dormant, quiet as a tomb, and felt frigidly cold. "Fucking heater's broke again," He muttered to himself. Cartman decided to quickly whip something together for dinner, settling on chicken and rice. He left his jacket on in order to combat the cold and set to work on his meal. Cartman had come to enjoy cooking quite a bit, as he'd taken to preparing meals for himself more and more often. When he finished, he greedily inhaled the pleasant aroma. To his surprise, he discovered that he'd made twice as much chicken and rice as he planned on. He quickly recalled why. Cartman had become accustomed to fixing dinner for his mother on her "rougher" nights, when he walked in on her unconscious with a pile of empty bottles laying at her feet.
The boy stored the leftovers in small container and prepared to eat his dinner. He grabbed a small bottle of iced tea out of the fridge, neglecting the many bottles of whiskey surrounding it. Cartman had resolved to never touch a drop of the stuff after seeing what it did to his mother. Cartman then popped the lip off his tea and began to eat. The meal was quite delicious, but he found that something still didn't sit well with him. As he ate, he discovered that a sense of worry had begun to develop in the pit of his stomach. "What if she's actually hurt?" He pondered to himself. Cartman decided to text his mother just to be certain she was okay.
"Hey Mom, just wanted to make sure you were alright" He texted, setting his phone on the table and waiting impatiently for her reply. Cartman lightly tapped the kitchen table while he ate, stealing an occasional glimpse at his phone just a few inches away from him. The phone suddenly vibrated and he quickly picked it up into his hands.
"Hi sweetie Mommy iz doing just fine! I'll b back on Saturday luv u v much!" She replied, the message trailed by a multitude of emojis.
"…She might text like a dumbass, but I guess she's alright," Cartman chuckled, his worries assuaged for the time being.
After his dinner concluded, Cartman made the brief journey into his basement to exercise, emerging around an hour later. He was now fully prepared to sit down and enjoy the quiet of an evening home alone. This peace and serenity that he so relished was not destined to last, though. Around 6:00 in the evening, several soft knocks came across the front door. "Who in the fuck is out there at this hour?' He thought, sullenly lifting himself from the couch. As he approached the door, he felt an urge to pretend he wasn't home and head up to his room, but realized that it was likely futile. Cartman's steps were far too loud for him to pull off that manner of deception. As he opened the door, a light jolt shot through his system and his eyes widened. "W-Wendy?" He stuttered, trying his best to remain calm.
There she stood, right in his doorway, like a dream-born fantasy come to life. Despite her heavy jacket and thick woolen cap, Cartman found her strikingly beautiful, her silken black hair illuminated in the glow of his front porch light.
"Are, uh, you going to invite me in?" She questioned, causing Cartman to realize that he'd been staring. He then graciously stepped to the side and bowed in an over-the-top manner.
"Let me guess ho," Cartman scoffed, "You've come here to profess your undying love for me!" Wendy brushed the light dusting of snow off her jacket and stepped inside.
"If I ever say anything that stupid," She remarked, "Have me committed."
After Wendy had peeled off her bulky jacket and thick gloves, she rested herself on the end of Cartman's couch.
"You hungry?" He questioned, motioning towards the kitchen.
"No thank you," She replied gently, "I didn't get a chance to ask you something important today, so I figured I'd just do it now." Cartman sat down next to her on the couch, giving her a mischievous grin.
"Sorry bitch," He chided, "I'm not breaking your legs to get you out of that shitty movie Stan's dragging you to." Wendy raised an eyebrow.
"I had no idea you were listening to that, figured you and Kyle were too busy arguing about anuses." Cartman laughed heartily.
"Hah! 'Love in the Snow', that's the gayest shit I ever heard of in my life!" Wendy giggled, nodding in agreement.
"I swear he's trying. But I wonder some days…if he even knows me anymore." Cartman was pleasantly surprised at how well their conversation was going. He began to gather courage within himself, preparing to tell Wendy that he liked her. Unfortunately, the words failed to leave his mouth.
"Cartman," Wendy began, "I need help with something you know very well." Cartman flashed her another nefarious smirk, resulting in her quickly jabbing him in the arm. His only reaction was a light chuckle. "Revenge, fatass," Wendy groused, looking intently at him. "That's what I need your help with." Cartman was slightly shocked by this request, but had a strong idea of what she was after.
"Let me guess, Heidi? I thought you beat the shit out of her yesterday after school! What's left, stealing her kidneys?". Wendy's face began to flush slightly red.
"That's a lie!" She growled, "Heidi made all it all up to get me in trouble, even punched herself in the stomach to make it look convincing. To top it off, she sat there and cried like a bitch in front of the Principal."
"Wow, that's pretty fucked up right there," Cartman responded, "That actually sounds like something I would've done back in the day, heh." He spoke with a nostalgic glint shimmering in his eyes.
"I hope you realize that Heidi learned most of her tricks from you, asshole," Wendy stated, glaring at Cartman. The boy shrugged.
"That's probably true, but I never tried to get revenge on her." Cartman sighed heavily. "We probably broke up a hundred times, and that bitch could be vicious." Wendy had her eyes fixed closely on him as he spoke. "I really loved her, y'know? She had me convinced that every time we broke up, it was my fault. I sat there like a bitch while she pelted me with every insult in the book. Good God, what a cunt." Cartman had managed to build up a considerable rage of his own while he spoke, his hand trembling slightly.
Wendy placed her hand over Cartman's own, dwarfed by his much larger size. "Eric," She whispered, "Sounds to me like we have a whore a stone." Cartman felt another powerful jolt surge through his body. Hearing Wendy call him "Eric" instead of "Fatass" had a strange, but pleasant, impact on him.
The odd pair then made their way up the stairs into Cartman's bedroom. "By the way Cartman, where's your mom?" Wendy questioned. Cartman winced a bit at the question, hesitant to respond.
"S-She's, well, um…"
"Don't worry, you don't have tell me if it's a touchy area." Wendy then quietly dropped the subject. Cartman slowly pushed open the door and the pair slipped into the room. Cartman's room was a bit of a mess, but Wendy didn't seem too bothered by it. A breath of fresh air to him, considering how angry Heidi used to get when she saw his room in disarray. Wendy found her way over to his bed and sat down on the edge. Cartman then produced a large notebook from a drawer in his desk, its cover coated in obscene scribbles. "Y'know, it's a little bit fucked up that you drew Scott Tenorman's parents on here, Cartman." Wendy narrowed her eyes in his direction.
"Its my revenge book, ho," Cartman replied simply, "Every plan I've ever conceived is written in there."
"…Wow. Some of these are twisted, fatass. Wait, did you write one for me when I beat you up back in fourth grade?"
"Yes, I did." Cartman refused to elaborate further, though Wendy had noticed the rips from a removed page about halfway through the book. Wendy then glanced over to the open drawer on his desk, noticing the shine of a golden barrel in the back of the compartment. Cartman took notice of her eyeing, and produced an antique revolver from the drawer. "Pretty sexy, huh?" Cartman smirked.
"Holy shit!" Wendy practically drooled, "Is this a Colt 1860 Army?" Cartman looked taken aback.
"You know guns, bitch?" Cartman's surprise was evident on his face.
"Know 'em well enough to shoot people that call me 'bitch', you dickhead." Wendy's tone failed to match her words as she closely inspected the piece. The golden barrel of the revolver bore a curious inscription: "Et in Arcadia ego". "It's beautiful. Who'd you steal it from?" Cartman breathed in dramatically.
"For your information, Ms. Testaburger, this antique was given to me by my dearly departed grandfather!"
"…You're lying."
"…Yes, I am." Cartman once again promptly closed the topic.
Cartman and Wendy must have sat up for at least three more hours, discussing all manner of plans to take revenge on the person that had hurt them both so much. Cartman's suggestions were certainly potent, but they unsurprisingly all ended with Heidi deader than a doornail, which is something Wendy had hoped to avoid. They managed to fill nearly seven pages of Cartman's notebook by the time 11:00 rolled around.
"We could always just invite her over here and freeze her to death," Wendy teased.
"Our shitty heater breaks all the time," Cartman lamented, "Mom won't shell out the cash to fix it, that would cut too deep into her whiskey budget." Cartman feared that he may have said too much as the words escaped his mouth. Wendy didn't cast any judgmental looks his way though, simply continuing to scan through the several pages the two had scribbled over the course of the night.
Suddenly, Wendy's head shot up from the book. "I've got it!" she cried. Cartman looked over in alarm.
"What's the plan, ho?" Cartman asked anxiously.
"Tell me Cartman, during all the times you and Heidi dated, what was the one thing that she cared about the most?"
"Uh… making my life a living hell?"
"Well, second most, I guess," Wendy giggled. Cartman squinted his eyes in contemplation for a few moments before the realization hit him.
"Her fucking clothes, has to be," He grunted in annoyance, "That bitch would lose her mind if you got so much as a stain on anything she wore."
"Yep, and do you know what's happening on Thursday, Cartman? School picture day. She'll no doubt have her nicest clothes on."
"Are we going to set them on fire? With her in them?" Cartman grinned evilly at the very thought.
"I was actually thinking about planting an explosive filled with dye inside her locker on picture day. Think about it: ruins her clothes and her self-image all in one fell swoop!" Wendy explained her plan with great pride. Cartman had to admit that he was impressed. While it sadly didn't involve murder, Heidi might honestly find social death a more painful experience.
"I actually have a couple dye bombs from another 'project' I've been working on," Cartman remarked, "We'll sneak into the school tomorrow night, plant one in her locker, then…BOOM!" The pair grinned with satisfaction at their fully realized plot.
Having finally settled on a plan, the two laid back in Cartman's bed, gazing up at the ceiling. "Wendy…" Cartman stammered nervously, "I-I don't know if I'll ever get another chance like this, so I just wanted you to know that I really like you and I think that you're-"
Cartman stopped mid-sentence, hearing a strange noise from the other side of his bed. He looked over at Wendy, only noticing now that she had already fallen asleep, her gentle breathing being the noise he'd heard. He attempted to leave the bed, but quickly realized it would be impossible, as he was lying next to the wall. What's more, Wendy had moved in her sleep, snuggling herself up next to him, her arm now resting on his chest.