"You ready Scotty?"called Jack Tenorman to his ten year old son, Scott Tenorman.
"Dad, I don't want to play football," groaned the ginger boy. The Denver Bronco's son, unlike him, did not hold the same enthusiasm for football and was sick of his dad trying to train him to be in the next starting lineup.
"It's not football, Scotty. We're just playing catch with a football," the mustached man reassured his irritated son. When Scott was younger, he had begun perfecting his manipulation technique, acting innocent to adults so that way they wouldn't believe the other kids when they say he scammed them out of twenty dollars or their snacks. There were moments, however, he just couldn't hide his true feelings.
"I want to watch Terrance and Phillip and stop calling me Scotty. I hate that name," the fourth grader complained.
"Please Scott, just catch the ball for your old man, huh. I won't be around forever, you know," Jack lamented, not so subtly guilting Scott into playing with him. Seriously, what the fuck was up with his family and manipulation?
"Fine Dad," Scott sighed and stood in a ready stance, preparing himself for the ball.
"Okay, ready...go!" Mr. Tenorman announced before the boy jumped up into the air and caught it.
"Great catch Scott," the right tackle said to his only son, well the only one he knew about. Scott, despite his best attempts, he let a smile creep across his lips, breaking his stony expression. It was one of the rare moments he was happy from something genuinely wholesome rather than from tricking or tormenting someone else.
"Scott," Jack called. "Scott… Scott… SCOTT!"
The redhead woke up from his recurring dream which felt more like a nightmare to the sound of someone yelling from upstairs.
"Where the hell are you, asshole!" rang out a familiar voice.
"Of fucking course," the ginger teen sighed. It was bad enough his brother was the reason he had bad dreams, fucked up hair, but he was the reason his life sucked in general. Invigorated by annoyance, he pulled off his covers and began walking up the flight of steps.
Meanwhile, on the first floor of the house, two fourth graders searched for him.
"Dude, maybe your brother is not home?" Kyle contemplated aloud to the much more pissed off Eric Cartman.
"No, he's here. That douchebag is probably still sleeping or jerking off… or maybe both," Cartman stated, disgust traveling through his body in the form of a shiver.
"Whatever dude," Kyle replied. "By the way, where's your mom?"
"Oh, she's probably still sleeping off her hangover. All I know is she better be awake by lunch time because I already missed breakfast for that damn movie!" The thought of missing breakfast AND the new release of Terrance and Phillip made Cartman even more irritated.
"SCOTT-"
"What the fuck do you want piggie!?"
The fourth graders jerked their heads in the direction of the kitchen and saw Scott Tenorman standing before them. Kyle's mouth went dry when he saw him less than five feet away, the last time he was within that close proximity with him was during the great Chili Con Carnival. Cartman, on the other hand, was not impressed.
"What do I want? I'll tell you what I want. I want to kick you squa in the nuts because you seem to forget that you're living in MY house!" The obese brunette heaved with anger while Scott smiled in amusement at the reaction he was able to trigger.
"Shut up fatass," Kyle interjected before the dueling sides could continue bickering.
"We're here to talk things out, remember?" The ninth grader diverted his attention from his younger brother and sized up the other kid. Huh, his voice sounds familiar, he must be the kid that called me about Farmer Denkin's pony. He's willing to defy Eric, but I doubt he will defy me. He could prove to be valuable to me.
"Hey Eric, who's your friend?" Scott asked, the question was directed at Cartman, but the ninth grader never broke contact with Kyle. Scott wanted to see how long it would take to intimidate the ten year old into looking away, but Kyle, despite being scared, kept on a poker face.
"We've talked on the phone before, but I never actually told you my name. I'm Kyle Broflovski."
"Hmph, interesting," the teenager said with his left thumb and index finger stroking his chin,
"And what brings you here today, Kyle Broflovski?"
"I...I mean we...um, huh," Kyle sheepishly laughed. It was one thing talking to Cartman, while he had his dangerous moments, for the most part he was a whiny fat asshole. Scott Tenorman, meanwhile, was capable of doing everything his brother did, but with no sanity to hold him back.
"Back off Tenorman," Cartman cut in, deciding to put an end to Scott's tortue session.
"Jew boy here is going to help us talk things out because you need to get some things straight if you're going to continue living with me, otherwise, I'm gonna arrange a little family reunion," the sociopath threatened, ending the sentence by dragging a finger across his throat.
"Here's the thing, little brother," Scott sweetly replied while clasping his hands to his chest. "The only reason you were able to kill my parents was because you manipulated someone else into doing your dirty work. In a real fight," Scott said, bending down to the younger boys' level so that both of them could hear him, "I would beat your pudgy ass into a bloody pulp, everytime," stressing the last word.
"Okay…" Kyle nervously uttered, clearly unsettled. The fourth grade Jew had to proceed carefully in Scott and Cartman's game of chicken, each waiting for the other to crack under the pressure.
"I'm going to keep this short because I don't want to be here any longer than I have to be. I, along with the rest of South Park cannot put up with you two constantly fighting. One Cartman is bad enough, two is unacceptable," Kyle emphasized by raising two gloved fingers.
"Look, I'm not saying you guys have to be friends because there's no way in hell that will ever happen, but you have to at least be civil to each other. Okay?" Kyle looked over at both of the boys and neither Cartman nor Scott looked at the other.
"I said okay!" Kyle repeated in a loud bitchy tone similar to the one his mother used when she wanted him to do something.
"Alright," Scott replied.
"Whatever," mumbled Cartman.
"Cartman," Kyle sternly expressed.
"Okay… I'll try to be nice, jeez."
"Good," the boy in the green hat commented, his words conflicting with his pessimistic thoughts. Let's see how long this will last?
*Knock Knock Knock*
The trio turned their heads towards the door surprised, they weren't expecting anyone. Despite all three being equally confused, it was Cartman who decided to walk over to the door and answer it. When the chubby boy answered the door, he saw two teenagers, one in a red hoodie and the other in a purple sweater.
"Is Scott Tenorman here? I'm here to get my hat back," the brunette teen in the purple sweater stated, not bothering to greet Cartman. The fourth grader did not take kindly to those who did not respect his authoritah in his home.
"Um, well I guess that really depends on just who the hell you think you are," Cartman cooly responded, concealing the malice from his voice.
"Tyler, don't you remember?" the red hooded teen piped in, "He's the kid Scott sold his pubes to and then he fed Scott his parents. You're Scott's brother? How are you not in jail?" The redhead was bewildered by the fact, THIS kid, was not only his friend's brother, but also the same person who killed his own dad and stepmom.
"In jail for what?" Cartman rebuffed, amazed by the stupidity of some people. "Farmer Denkins was the one that killed Mr. and Mrs. Tenorman, not me. Not to mention there's no way anyone could link the crime to me let alone lock me up. Face it, I'm too big in this town." While he may have accidentally killed his own father, Cartman was still proud of himself for the way he carried out and got away with the feat that was his and his wife's demise.
"Yeah, you're big I'll say. Damn piggie, how much are they planning to fatten you up before Christmas dinner," the brunette laughing at his own wisecrack along with his associate. In response, Cartman grinded his teeth as the pair chuckled at his expense. These assholes think I'm a joke, well let's see who's laughing when they end up missing on the side of a milk carton.
"Hey kid," *ha ha ha* "is Scott here or-" *ha ha ha*
"AUGH," he was fed up with his half brother along with his friends' bullshit.
"Hey Scott," Cartman yelled to his half brother, "Hurry up and give Bitch 1 back his hat so that he and Bitch 2 can get the fuck off my propertah!" Both teens subsequently stopped laughing when they heard what the overweight ten year old had called them. They furrowed their eyebrows together before a realization came over Tyler.
"Wait, why am I Bitch 1?" he asked.
"Because you have to be the biggest bitch on the planet to not only be friends with, but take orders from a bunch of gingers," Cartman retorted nonchalantly.
"Argh," the ninth grade bully let out, embarrassed and furious about being insulted by a fat fourth grader. The tall brunette began walking over to Cartman as he was not above putting his hands on a little kid.
"Here's your hat, Tyler," Scott said, handing over the blue winter cap and leaning in to whisper something to him. The two fourth graders couldn't hear what was being said, but they saw the brunette nod his head at Scott. Whatever Scott had said had successfully diffused the situation and Tyler and Aaron left Cartman's house followed shortly by Kyle.
"Well, I'm getting dressed," Scott stated aloud as he headed towards the basement "and after I eat something, I'm going into town to buy some hair dye."
"Wait Scott," Cartman called to his older brother who was in the doorway of the basement.
"Yeah?"
"What did you say to that guy?" Cartman asked, the curiosity becoming too much for him.
"Well, not that it's any of your business," Scott retorted at a now scowling Cartman, "I made it clear to him that he should let me deal with you and that I was the only one who could put my hands on you." The bleached redhead continued to walk down the stairs unconcerned while the obese boy stood perplexed. Scott Tenorman had implied he would beat him up, but wouldn't let anyone else do so? The boy didn't know whether to be cross or touched. I guess this is what having a brother must feel like.
I'm seriously considering starting another story where it will be drabbles regarding Scott and Cartman. This doesn't mean this one will stop, it just means I will be able to write more frequently about random scenarios involving the two.
