Eric Cartman grumbled as he trudged through the newly fallen snow from the night before. It was a quarter past nine a.m. on Saturday morning and the overweight boy was walking to meet his friends at the theater to see the new Terrance and Phillip movie. The fourth grader suspected that inviting him to the movies was his "friends" way of apologizing to him about what happened yesterday, like they were actually sorry. Cartman rolled his eyes thinking about the three jerks he always hung out with despite them all hating him and him feeling the same way.

"I can't believe I missed breakfast to go hang out with these assholes," the boy thought aloud as he heard his stomach emitting noises like it was trying to talk to him.

"I guess I'll just eat some popcorn when I get there … and some candy… and maybe a large diet soda," the obeses child debated. If he was going to eat a lot of junk food, he might as well try to drink something "healthy." All this thinking about food was making him hungrier.

"Ugh," Cartman sighed as he tried to keep his mind off of food by focusing on the sound of snow crunching underneath his boots, a sound that he was more than familiar with from living in South Park all his life. The sounds, however, did not keep his mind from wandering and he was soon playing back all events from that week that made it one of if not the "shittiest week of his life." First, his arch nemesis and older half brother, Scott Tenorman, moved in with him, then he proceeded to embarrass him by not only bad mouthing him and his mom, but replacing his body wash for glow in the dark body paint, the latter of which he spent three hours soaking in a tub trying to get the stuff off his skin! The cherry on top of his crappy sundae, however, would have had to have been when Scott compared him to their father. Everything he had said, the words swirling around in his head ever since. It had first started when Cartman was staring at his thick arms and legs in the bathtub, wondering why he hadn't inherited his father's "muscular physique" as his brother put it.

"Why did I have to be so fat- I mean big boned," the ten year old said, quickly fixing his mistake before anyone overheard. Luckly, few people were walking around this early on a Saturday morning, most still sleeping or eating breakfast with their families, so the child relaxed. That remark, however, only hit the surface compared to everything else Scott had said. Something that you did not inherit from our father, just like his muscular physique, his money, and definitely not his love, the last words causing the sociopath to form a lump in his throat similarly to when he first heard them. The brunette took a few deep breaths in an attempt to make it go away, but then he felt his eyes beginning to burn.

"Ah goddamnit," Cartman cursed, thinking that snow flew into his eyes, resulting in him furiously rubbing his stinging eyes.

"Hey fatass, what're you crying about?!"

Cartman quit rubbing his eyes and turned to his left to see some dark haired sixth grader sitting on a blue bench.

"I'm not crying douchebag," Cartman retorted, "I just got some snow in my eyes, that's all." Cartman knew it wasn't wise for him to mouth off to sixth graders, but he just wasn't in the mood to put up with anybody's shit.

The short sixth grader smirked at him as he stood up from the bench with his hands in his green jacket, "Yeah right fourthie, I saw you stop walking and before I knew it you were weeping like a bitch."

The fourth grader, out of curiosity, felt his wet face and tasted the salty liquid before he realized the older boy was right. He was crying. The Eric Cartman was crying over some stupid remark made by someone that he hated, this should not be happening.

"You know, I had a doctor's appointment yesterday, but I heard about what happened at the auditorium, blue boy," the sixth grade boy sneered at the stunned boy. Cartman snapped out of his shock and rolled his eyes because despite how long he sat in the tub and scrubbed, his skin still had a light blue tinge. Ugh, I spent all day yesterday putting up with this crap from everyone at school and now I have to spend my weekend getting shit from a nobody sixth grader. No, not today, Cartman had a movie to go see and snacks to eat.

"Look, I got better things to do today than be bothered by some dude who clearly has nothing going on in his life and has to pick on younger kids to make himself feel better," Cartman replied as he began to walk away from the visibly irritated pre-teen. The other sixth graders had been giving him a hard time for not messing with enough fourthies and that was hurting his reputation as a sixth grader bruiser. There had to be something he could do to get this kid to cry or to take his money or to beat him up, hopefully all three. What did Josh say about this guy, oh right!

"Oh yeah," the sixth grader called after him, "at least my mom's not a slut." The only answer the twelve year old caught in return was a bored "whatever," Cartman had heard that insult almost as many times as he had about his weight. Think harder Ethan, what else did Josh say about this kid. The dark haired boy thought for a few seconds and then he had a massive epiphany. This was going to be bad.

"Well, at least my dad is in my life," this comment stopped Cartman in his tracks.

"It must be hard enough knowing that your mom's the town whore, but to not even know who your father is," the sixth grader shook his head in fake sympathy as Cartman walked back over to him.

"What the hell do you know about my father," the sociopath rhetorically asked, venom dripping from his words. Painful emotions threatened to pull the brunette back into a dark place, back to when he was a sobbing five year old on Father's Day because everyone at school had a father, everyone except him. He would make him pay for making him feel so small.

"Poor little fourthie, never knowing the love of a father," the sixth grader said only three feet away from the other boy. He had enough.

"You poor little bast- ugh," the sixth grader yelped as two yellow gloves were thrown at his face.

"Huh, is that you got fourthie-," but the sixth grader's taunt was cut short because before he knew it, he heard an enraged scream and felt himself being tackled to the ground. The dark haired being knocked flat onto his back while the obese boy straddled.

"What the hell, get off me," the older boy screamed as he tried to push the fourth grader off him, but unfortunately for him, he messed with the only fourth grader who weighed roughly the same that he did.

"Fuck you, don't ever talk about my dad, you motherfucker!" Cartman took his right leg and pinned the older boy's left arm under it and used his left hand to grab the other kid's right arm before proceeding to repeatedly punch the sixth grader in the face with his right hand. All the pain the obese boy had ever felt, about his father, his body, his mom being known as a "slut," and Scott Tenorman, was released as he repeatedly punched the shit out of the sixth grader.


"Where the hell is fatass, I'm going to miss the movie," Kyle groaned against the side of the movie theater. It was bad enough that he was waiting for Cartman, but he was the only one that would be seeing the movie with him. Stan had canceled last minute because he had to help his dad on the farm and Kenny couldn't make it because he was killed in a hit and run on his way to the theater… again. The Jew looked back down at his wrist watch to see that it was now 9:20, the movie was supposed to start in ten minutes. Hmph, this is unusual even for Cartman, Kyle thought as he impatiently waited for his frenemy to arrive. While Kyle knew that it was normal for Cartman to be late because of his weight and due to the fact he was an inconsiderate ass, even he wouldn't be late for a Terrance and Phillip movie. This analysis of the situation led the daywalker to the conclusion that he should start walking in the direction of Cartman's house to see if he could find him before the movie started. I mean, he might have gotten into it with Scott again and wasn't able to leave the house, Kyle anxiously wondered. Even though he would never admit, he was becoming increasingly concerned about Cartman living with Scott. The whole week his Cartman had been spacing off and switching between paranoid and irritated. Even last night when he had invited Cartman on the phone last night to go to the movies, he didn't sound annoyed, but sad.

"Ow, somebody help me!"

Kyle quickly snapped out of his thoughts and saw a peculiar sight. Several feet in front of him in the snow, a large boy was punching another boy in a green jacket. The daywalker immediately realized that not only were the duo Cartman and one of the sixth graders from their school, but that Cartman was kicking the sixth grader's ass!

"Who's crying now pussy!" Cartman screamed while the other boy desperately tried to grab his hair, but only managed to yank his hat off. It was then the sociopath decided to stop punching him and instead grabbed a handful of snow and shoved it down the other boy's pants.

"CARTMAN!" Kyle yelled and ran over to his "friend." The obese boy, who was so absorbed in his rage, barely noticed when two arms reached under his arm pits and yank him off the sixth grader. When the brunette had stopped to notice the change of events, he turned his head around and saw Kyle, who looked more shaken than he did despite being in a fist fight.

"Kahl?"

"Cartman, why the hell were you beating up a sixth grader," Kyle exclaimed in the same bitchy tone that reminded Cartman of Kyle's big, fat, bitch mom, Shelia. This is what made Cartman hate Kyle, that and being a Jewish ginger from Jersey.

"Well he started it," Cartman defended himself to his lifelong adversary. Meanwhile, the sixth grader caught up from the ground and gasped for air, something he could not do before with the incredibly heavy fourth grader sitting on his chest. Blood dripped from his nose and mouth while his face felt sore, he knew it was going to bruise badly. The black haired boy stared at his attacker who only had scratch marks on his face and the other fourth grader who was yelling at him. The sixth grader male stood up, wiped the blood off his nose, and cleared his throat to get the other kids attention.

"You better hope I never see you again, fourthie, because next time it won't just be me," the older boy warned before walking away with his nose in his hand. The two ten year olds stood in silence before Cartman turned to Kyle.

"Look, I'm sorry I made you late for the movie. If you go now, you can get there before the previews end," the brunette said before proceeding to pick up his yellow gloves and signature hat.

"What, no dude, I'm not leaving before you give me an explanation for what the hell just happened!" Kyle stood in an aggravated stance with his arms folded over his chest, waiting for the other boy to give him an explanation. Cartman, however, simply picked up his things and began to leave.

"Cartman! Eric! I'm talking to you! Why won't you answer me!" Kyle demanded, walking behind Cartman.

"Cartman," Kyle grabbed his arm and pulled him to face him, his anger evaporating as quickly as steam when he saw the tears on Cartman's face.

"Kahl, could you just believe me for once when I say I did what I did for a good reason?" In that moment, the usually unbearable know it all, moral compass that was Kyle Broflovski fell silent, he was not used to seeing Cartman cry real tears. Tantrum tears, yes, cowardice tears, definitely, but he couldn't remember the last time he had seen him cry real tears of sadness. This made it impossible for him to deny the boy his simple request.

"Yeah, sure dude," Kyle agreed and both boys proceeded to walk back to Cartman's house, forgetting about the movie.

Well, I finally did, I got around to making this chapter. Even after all my procrastinating.