Chapter 2: I definitely have breast cancer
Author´s note: If I owned South Park, I would have told Matt and Trey to kill the whole Tegriddy thing a loooooong time ago. Yes, I know it´s been a long time since I´ve posted this thing, but man, does life get in the way of writing fanfiction. Also, kudos to anyone who gets the reference for the first two chapter titles.
There is a fog of unreality that everyone experiences first thing in the morning. A haze of confusion where your dreams slowly fade as your reality slowly reenters your consciousness. The cloudiness of it all was very enticing to Wendy at the moment, even though she couldn't quite remember why. Slowly, her weird dream about her husband being in a duo akin to Simon and Garfunkel with Mr. Mackey and her having to save the lollipop fields and a heard of sentient twinkies from their music faded, as memories of her actual life took hold. That fog is mostly short lived, except when enhanced by a major hangover, or in Wendy´s case, that amazing morning afterglow from a sex induced coma, courtesy of the epic fucking she had with her husband the night before.
She remembered, in that fog, when she first started to be physically attracted to him.
Sure, there had been the whole "flag debate" debacle when they were 9, but they were only children back then. No. REAL physical attraction to a male only came to Wendy Testaburger at the age of 14, when during a sleep over, Bebe wanted to watch Tenacious D and the Pick of Destiny for some reason (probably recommended by Kenny).
All the other girls roared with laughter when the kid version of Jack Black appeared on screen and Bebe said "HOLLY SHIT, THAT´S CARTMAN!"
But Wendy wasn´t laughing. No, Wendy was mortified that she felt the strong urge to grab that fat kid singing about chopping off a dragon´s penis by his shirt and furiously make out with him. And Bebe was right. It was basically Cartman with longer hair.
She felt both ashamed and aroused by the image, as he prayed to Dio, in the same way Cartman surely prayed to Mel Gibson.
She had her first sex dream that night, as a very shirtless 14-year-old Eric Cartman engulfed her small frame with his large body. She could vividly feel in her dream his fat belly pressed against her own as his pudgy arms surrounded her and his massive cushioned hands explored her body.
Even as she woke in horror, it wasn´t long before she accepted a very troubling, however undeniable, reality:
She was attracted to fat guys. Well, mostly brown-haired fat guys. Well, brown-haired fat guys who curse and make a lot of inappropriate jokes. And they also had to sing with a raspy, yet undeniably great voice to get her going too.
Well fine, she was desperately lusting after Cartman.
Thus ensued a years long maelstrom of confusing feelings, wet dreams and picking pointless random fights with each other which culminated in them being together before the end of junior year.
And thus ensued the decades long maelstrom of furious lovemaking, vigorous arguments, stupid shenanigans, questionable ethics and surprisingly effective parenting they called "marriage". Which culminated in the sound that brought Wendy a little further out of the fog of unreality
"Well, go suck a bag of dicks!" Cartman screamed into his phone "I don´t fucking care that you´re an actual gay person, go lick a bag of vaginas then! Just go do something unpleasant involving your mouth and someone else´s junk!"
Who, Wendy thought to herself, was the poor soul, unfortunate enough to receive such a call from Eric Cartman at 7:30 in the morning?
"I´m paying for full coverage, asshole. Either you cover my wife´s cancer exams or I´m suing your asses!" She could hear Eric screaming while she walked down the stairs
'oh, yeah' she thought, sadly 'I have breast cancer'.
Damn it. She could have gone for a few extra moments in the fog. Instead of the very appealing prospect of just saying 'fuck it' and going back to sleep, she was greeted with the visage of her husband in his underwear, phone in one hand and coffee mug in the other
"This is your last warning asshat! My lawyer is a jew!" Ah yes. The old 'threatening people with Kyle' routine. It always worked, even though Kyle wouldn't take a case from Cartman if his business depended on it. Well, mostly anyway. He might just take this one
"I´m glad we understand each other. You have exactly one hour to email my wife her full schedule. Tick tock, bitch!" He shut off the call in a manner that would have felt much more satisfying if it was a landline phone he could slam against a table.
Behind him, a whiteboard with various notes and schematics written on it. Above it all, the title: "Operation Tittyfixer"
Phase One: Exams
Phase Two: Blond Bitch Squad. It didn´t take a genius to know he meant Butters and Bebe, the two doctors on their friends list. Beneath it, a post it that read "tell people: When?"
Phase Three: Chemo/Radio/Whateverthefucktheyhave
Phase Four: Weed
Phase Five: Wigs
Phase Six: Chopping off the titty (AVOID AT ALL COSTS!)
Phase Seven: Boob job (AVOID AT ALL COSTS!)
Phase Eight: No more killer titties
Even with the dark subject matter at hand, Wendy was still trying to postpone dealing with this shitshow as much as possible without compromising her health. She knew, deep down, she couldn´t avoid it for too long. In one hour, she would have the exam schedule on her emails. Before the day was out, she would have told all the important people in her life.
And it was that certainty that made her tell the important subjects to go fuck themselves and resorted to perving on her husband´s semi naked body.
She might have been self-conscious about doing so earlier in her life, but after almost 30 years together, there was no judgement that would come from simply basking in what was, to her, a positively glorious image.
That beer belly, that large and hairy chest, those pudgy yet strong arms, those big hands…
And to top it all off, greying hairs and a neglected greying beard that gave the man before her a "daddy" vibe that she couldn´t resist. To most people, Eric Cartman was just your average middle aged stocky white guy. To Wendy, he was a beautiful hunk that aged like whiskey on an oak barrel.
Therefore, her first action was to gently put her body against his, caressing his chest hair and gently kissing his neck.
"Good morning, honey" she said, in a tone that reminded Eric of a very affectioned cat
"Good morning" He said, returning her affections by using his free hand to stroke that one spot in her back he knew she loved the most. "Sleep well?"
"Like a rock" She said. "What´s all this?"
"Operation Tittyfixer. There´s room for improvement, but this should cover most of it" He said
"Hmmm" She purred "You don´t seem to like phases six and seven very much, though"
"Of course, I don´t!" He said "Who the hell want´s their wife´s titty chopped off?"
"But then, I can get a new one. Bigger, better, more firm…" She said, rubbing her head against his bear
"To hell with that, you´re just entering milf territory with those tits. Besides, you can´t beat the original Coronel´s Recipee" He said, with a smirk.
Most women would object to having their boobs compared to KFC. Most women were not Wendy, fully aware of how much her husband loves KFC.
"As much as I would love to bang over the living room couch, we really need to go to work. Langley is breathing down my neck about the Pakistani guy and you need to give your speech at town square" He said, releasing her from his embrace and pouring her some of the coffee he brewed.
He worked for the CIA as an analyst/interrogator. He sometimes worked from home, but he also went to an undisclosed facility on the outskirts of South Park not even Wendy knew the location of, even if she was the mayor. McDaniels retired some years ago and Wendy has been running unopposed ever since.
"Yeah, I know" Wendy said, somewhat defeated, sitting down and eating some of the bacon and eggs on the table. "What time is everyone getting here?"
"Kenny and Bebe are getting here around 2, along with my mom. She´s helping in the kitchen, by the way. Everyone else should be coming a little later though" Cartman said, eating his breakfast.
"Good." She said, taking a long pause before finishing her sentence.
The time for avoiding reality was over. She should face this head on from now.
"I think we should tell everyone after dinner. Before everyone gets drunk, though. I don´t want to fully ruin thanksgiving, but I also don´t want to postpone the whole thing too much"
"Good. After dinner, we tell everyone. I´m hiding the whiteboard until then"
And so, they got ready for the day that lay ahead. Fully prepared to deal with whatever problems life would throw their way.
Beside their cars, Cartman loaded his "enhanced interrogation devices" unto the trunk as Wendy looked herself in the windshields to see if her pantsuit was decent enough for today's activities
"Alright, let´s recap" Cartman said, closing the trunk
"Good" Wendy answered looking at him
"Do we have enough booze?"
"For normal people, yes. Kenny, Stan and Randy are coming, though, so you never know"
"I´m telling those assholes to bring some, just in case. Turkey?"
"In the fridge, ready to go to the oven."
"Stuffing?"
"Your mom is making that bacon stuffing you love so much"
"Sweeeet. Pork loins?"
"Marinating"
"Side dishes?"
"Ingredients are ready, shouldn´t take too long"
"Jew food?" He meant kosher
"Kyle is bringing some stuff"
"Hippie food?"
"Stan is not vegan anymore"
"Snacks?"
"We have enough for normal people, but then again, you live here, so we never know"
"Screw you bitch!" He gave her the finger
"Up yours, fatass!" She responded in kind
He pecked her quickly on the lips
"Love you, ho" He said, entering the car
"Love you too, asshole" She said, doing the same
As she drove off to city hall, all she could think about is the battle that lay ahead
The fight of a life time against what was arguably the worst disease on planet earth. Wendy was, perhaps for the first time ever, afraid.
She was afraid of what lay ahead and she was, like every other person on earth, afraid of dying.
And yet, even if it all went to hell, Wendy wouldn´t go without a fight. She would fight back every step of the way. The Grim Reaper would have to drag her to hell kicking and screaming and Cartman would grind that motherfucker into chilli if need be.
Cancer would learn a very hard lesson. A lesson a lot of people learned the hard way along her 44 years on this earth. A lesson that even her husband knew too well from basically day one of their relationship.
"Don´t. Fuck. With. Wendy. Cartman. Nee. Testaburger!"
Attention all personnel. Operation: Tittyfixer has been cleared for commencing.
End Chapter note: My God, was this a fucking bitch to write. My Microsoft Word kept deleting the file because of some configuration error, so I wrote this entire chapter three times over before finishing it. A few thoughts
A: If they ever do a South Park live action, asking Jack Black to play Cartman is a no brainer
B: The whole "Wendy likes chubby guys" thing is based on some people I know personally. The whole rundown of what Wendy likes in his body is almost a direct citation of that person describing her boyfriend while drunk.