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Cartman sat Clyde Frog down in a chair and took a mental count of his guests. Everything seemed to be in order. He sat down at the head of the table, staring across at the last empty chair. It was empty on purpose. It would seat a human guest who had yet to arrive. Cartman was excited. He'd never had human company at his tea parties before. Probably for good reason. He knew one day he'd get that seat filled. He'd have someone to play with. Someone to, dare he say it, be friends with. Possibly more.
Today, it seemed, was going to be that day. Wendy stepped through the gate and into Cartman's back yard. Her confused frown deepened when she took in the odd setup.
"I got your note," She explained, an eyebrow raising when she noticed Clyde frog on one of the chairs. "Why'd you want me to meet you here?"
"This is where I always have my tea parties," Cartman explained, as if that actually explained anything at all. "Thanks for coming. Have a seat."
The girls eyes stayed locked with his a moment, moved down to his smile, which definitely wasn't normal, and then swept the table. "Why? She asked again, sure it was some sort of elaborate plot.
Cartman blinked. "Why? Because that's what you do. You sit and drink tea and talk. You never played tea party? God, what kind of chick are you?"
"What kind of a chick are you?" she fired back, taking a seat regardless. "shouldn't you be throwing rocks at cars with Kenny? Or torturing unsuspecting Jennifer Lopez dolls with Stan and Kyle?"
"Fuck those guys," he replied simply. He picked up the kettle and began 'pouring' tea for himself and his inanimate guests. He finally slid the kettle across the table to Wendy.
"Be careful, it's hot."
She stared at the alleged 'full' cup with disbelief. "Did someone, like, castrate you? I stopped playing tea party when I was six!"
Cartman scowled. "It's not my fault you grew up too fast ho. Now drink your tea."
Wendy's face screwed up in hatred at the insulting word. She'd almost thought he was cute. She'd almost gone along with it.
She stood suddenly. "I have better things to do than take orders from an overbearing asshole who hasn't gotten over his fetish for little girl toys!"
Cartman slammed his 'sipped' cup down. "Fine, that's fine! I invite you over to mah house for tea, and you question my manhood in front of all my friends hyaw? I don't need that crap!"
Wendy made it to the gate before turning back to him. "Cartman, you lost any trace of "manhood" you had the moment your mom bought you Polly, Prissy pants!" She stabbed her index finger in the general direction of the doll and then disappeared through the gate.
"Yeah bitch, you'd better walk away!" a threatening, higher-pitched Cartman voice called out. The noise was apparently supposed to be coming from the motionless doll that Wendy referenced, who was seated just to Cartman's left. As the doll 'spoke,' Cartman covered his mouth with his right hand. "I'll cut you!" the 'doll' added.
Cartman took his hand away. "Sorry about that Polly."
"What are we supposed to do now?" Peter Panda wondered. Again, through Cartman's not-so-subtle ventriloquism.
"Relax guys," Cartman told his doll army. "I didn't think the hippie would stay. I've got a plan B." With that, Cartman retrieved a cell phone from his coat pocket. He flipped it open, scrolled through his contacts list and dialed the number after Wendy's.
He dialed Stan.
The phone rang three times before he reached for it, but even as he did, his eyes never left the bright flicker of weekend cartoons.
"Kyle?" He asked out of habit, fully expecting it to be his best friend.
Cartman glared at the phone. "No, not Kahl. Get your shoes on and get over here. Meet me in the backyard."
Stan's face fell. "What? Why should I?"
"I'm having a party."
"A party?" He parroted, finally interested enough to turn away from the T.V. "Did you invite Kyle?"
Cartman's free hand smacked against his forehead. He closed his eyes and shook his head in exasperation. In his opinion Stan was so gay it wasn't even funny. Still, a homo would surely appreciate a tea party.
"...Yeah, of course I did," Cartman confirmed with as straight a face as he could manage.
"I'm coming," he promised, needing no further encouragement.
After hearing the promise, Cartman rudely hung up his phone. "On Kyle's face I bet."
Stan threw the phone on the couch, now eager to get to Cartman's house. He violently shoved on his shoes and made it to the house down the street in record time. When he knocked on the door, Lianne answered.
"Oh, hello Stanley," Lianne said with a smile and a hint of surprise in her voice. "Are you here for Eric's party?"
"Yeah," he grinned cutely. "Is anyone else here yet?"
"I thought I saw Eric's little friend Wendy here earlier. The party's in the backyard...Unless, of course, you'd rather stay inside the house with me..." she offered, her tone turning more sultry and suggestive.
"Uh...that's all right." Stan shrunk away from her and into the house. "Don't worry, I know where it is," he added quickly, darting out the backdoor and closing it behind him with a sigh.
"Hey Stan," Cartman greeted. Following the hello, Cartman put his lips to his cup of tea.
"Hi Stan," Peter Panda added.
"How's it going?" Polly Prissy Pants said.
Stan froze, his eyes moving back and fourth between the three. For a moment he wasn't sure if he was more concerned about Cartman's mental state of mind, or the fact that Kyle obviously wasn't there. "...What the hell is going on?"
"It's mah tea party," Cartman explained casually. "We saved a seat for you," he pointed out.
"A tea party?" He asked, just to be sure his eyes weren't betraying him. "With dolls?"
"Ay! I'm not a doll, I'm a frog!" Clyde Frog informed him, as though it weren't already obvious. Although his mouth didn't move on its own, Clyde Frog seemed to need no assistance from Cartman in order to speak.
Stan blinked, his jaw falling loose. He was ready to go back inside with the Mother at this point, but one thing made him stall. He looked back at Cartman.
"Kyle?" he asked, wondering if he'd really been invited.
"...Dude, Stan, this tea is super awesome," Cartman assured him, totally avoiding the question.
He hesitated. "What kind is it?"
"Try some," Cartman offered. He 'poured' a cup for Stan and placed it at the other end of the table, where Stan would hopefully be sitting momentarily.
It took another second to decide, but he was thirsty from rushing over so quickly. He sat in the indicated chair and pulled the cup toward himself, frowning when he looked inside. "This cup is empty." He observed, letting it rock back into an upright position.
Cartman closed his eyes, sighing. "Stan, you have a lot to learn about playing tea party. You're supposed to suspend your disbelief, asshole."
"No," He insisted. "I'm thirsty and this cup is empty. Why would I want to pretend to have a drink when I can go inside and get a soda from your mom right now?"
Cartman rolled his eyes. "Jesus Christ. Fahn."
Cartman stood up from his seat and walked closer toward the house so that he was in better earshot.
"MOM!!!" he yelled into the house.
"Get Stan a soda! And hurry it up!"
"All right Eric."
Stan settled back in his seat, having gotten halfway up to leave already.
"Thanks," he said when presented with the drink a half minute later.
"Let me know if you need anything else," Cartman's mom said with her left eye winking before moving back into the house.
"Dude, your mom is pretty fucked up," Stan remarked casually as he popped the can open and proceeded to pour the contents into the play teacup.
Cartman, now back in his own seat, poured more 'tea' for his stuffed companions. "She's just being nice," he explained.
"So, you think you're too good to drink tea with us?" Clyde Frog asked of Stan.
Stan eyed the doll, then pointed at it. "Did that thing just talk?"
"Yep" Cartman said as he 'sipped' his tea across the table from Stan.
"Answer the question!" Clyde Frog demanded.
"Ay! Settle down Clyde Frog," Cartman ordered.
"Wow," Stan set his cup down, looking thoughtful. "This is just... weird." He pushed his chair back and got up from the table.
"Ay! Where the hell are you going?!" Cartman asked, now getting upset that more than one human invite was bailing on him.
"I'm gonna go see what Kyle's doing," He answered easily, reaching for the door. "Sorry dude, but this is kinda... you know, gay."
Cartman huffed as he watched Stan exiting through the gate. "Oh, it's like that is it? Fine then! That's FAHN! Go hang out with Kyle for the billionth time! That's totally NOT gay huh? Asshole! Ah hate you! And Kahl! ESPECIALLY Kahl!!"
"Let him go," Clyde Frog insisted. "He's a dick anyway."
Cartman sighed. "You're right. We can get way cooler people for this party."
Butters laid on his stomach on his living room floor, flipping through a random magazine.
"Loo loo loo, I've got some apples," he sung to himself, pausing to flip a page. "Loo loo loo, you've-"
The phone blared out, making him stop. But he made a quick recovery. "You've got some too," he finished singing on the way to the phone. "Hello?"
"Hey Butters," Cartman greeted in a friendly tone. "Dude you wanna come over to my party?"
"Wah- you want me ta come to your party?" He pointed to himself, voice ringing in shock.
"Yeah, totally!" Cartman enthusiastically repeated.
Butters perked up at the enthusiasm. "Okay!" He exclaimed. "When does it start!?"
"It's already rocking pretty hard over here," Eric bragged. "Just get down here."
"Oh, gee! I'll be right there! Don't worry!"
Cartman once again hung up his phone. He poured some more fake tea and amused himself by conversing with his stuffed animal friends until Butters arrived.
Butters, unlike the other guest, looked pleased with the setup when he arrived.
"Oh, you have a little table and everything." He grinned, meshing his knuckles together. "Wah- well, where the heck is everyone?"
"Unfortunately Stan and Wendy left already, but we don't need them."
Cartman put a tea cup over his mouth again. As he did, doll Rumpertumskin 'spoke' for the first time.
"Hello Butters. Have a seat. This tea is delicious."
The blonde laughed openly, clearly amused at this little game. "Ah-alright then." He agreed, sitting obediently. "Boy, I haven't played tea party in a real long time. Last time, my dad caught me a-an... I got grounded for being a little queer."
"You are a little queer," Cartman confirmed. "But tea party is kewl." He handed Butters the same empty cup the others had rejected so far. "Remember to raise your pinky finger."
Butters complied, pretending to sip for a moment. Then he lowered the cup slowly, frowning at it. "I don't know, Eric. Tea party sure doesn't feel very cool."
Cartman glowered at his friend across the table. "Butters, this is my house and we're playing tea party, all right? I had the decency to invite you over to my sweet party, and you are not gonna leave me like the others. Do you understand?"
He looked around in consideration, meshing his knuckles together, then shot the other boy an angry look. "Now, you listen here, Eric. I'm still gettin' made fun of by the guys from the last time we played together, an-and you blindfolded me and put somthin' in my mouth, and made everyone think I was queer. Tea party is even gayer than that." He got up from the table, smiling apologetically. "Thanks for lettin' me come to your party, but I can't let everyone think I'm a homosexual just 'cause you are."
"Butters, you get back here!" Cartman ordered as the other boy started to walk away. "Butters I am seriously! Get back nyaw right now!"
The demands were of no use. Butters kept on walking. Apparently even Eric Cartman couldn't be very intimidating surrounded by stuffed animals and a tea set. As the gate closed yet again, Cartman sighed.
"You're a loser!" Rumpertumskin exclaimed. "You never have human friends at these parties, and you never will! No one likes you Eric!"
Cartman pulled his hand away from his face and frowned. "That's not true! I do so have friends! Lots of them! Someone is gonna hang out with me and play tea party, asshole! You'll see! You'll all see!"
"Whatever bitch," Rumpertumskin scoffed.
Eric's hands wrapped around the throat of the stuffed creature, choking him.
Kenny found himself walking into Cartman's backyard not long after Butters left, scratching his head and feeling mildly hurt. He paused when he noticed how very girly the set up was, but shook his head and marched toward the table.
"Whose fucking friend are you, anyway?" he demanded.
Cartman blinked, releasing the doll from his grip. "What do you mean?"
"You're having a tea party and you invited Butters but you didn't even stop to think about your best friend?" The blonde demanded, helping himself to a seat. "What the hell is that?"
Cartman cocked his head to the side in surprise. He instinctively passed Kenny a cup of tea. "You...You want to come to mah tea party?"
"Fuck yes, I want to come to your tea party." Kenny answered, grabbing the cup with greedy hands. "Now pour me some goddamn tea."
Cartman smiled smugly. "See that Rumpertumskin? I told you mah friends would wanna hang out and play tea party, didn't I?"
"Whatever, faggot," the puppet 'answered'.
Cartman reached over the table and 'poured' Kenny a cup of the invisible tea. "There you go."
Kenny pressed the rim to his lips and tilted his head back without pausing. But nothing came out. "The fuck, dude?" He frowned into the empty cup.
"I'm actually kinda surprised," Cartman admitted. "I mean, Stan and Butters are pussy enough that they might wanna do this, and Wendy's a girl so it's in her DNA...I never thought you'd wanna come to a tea party dude."
Kenny ignored the comment, leaning over the table to grab the teapot. He opened the lid and peered inside, then shook it. No tea.
"Goddamnit." He growled, figuring it had just all gotten consumed already. "You should have your mom make more. What're those?" He pointed to a tray of what looked to be mini sweet rolls. Normally he would just grab them, but he was allergic to strawberries and had to make sure he didn't eat any. He'd rather starve than die. Again.
Cartman looked over to the 'food' accompanying the 'tea.'
"We've got sweet rolls, cookies, biscuits..." Cartman said, extending the miscellaneous pink tray in Ken's direction.
Kenny's stomach growled appreciatively as he licked his lips and swiped a cookie with lightning speed. His teeth clamped down hard on the treat, but instead of sinking through, it make his whole jaw shake. The cookie fell from his hand. "Ow!" He howled, slapping a hand over his mouth. "Shit! My teeth!"
"AY!" Cartman said. "Don't get teeth marks on mah toys, Kenneh! Pick that cookie up."
"Goddamnit, Cartman, what the fuck is in those cookies?" he raved, having missed the mention of 'toys.'
Cartman shook his head. "Dumbass, people don't actually eat and drink stuff when they're playing tea party. Especially not poor people, you noob."
Kenny rubbed his sore teeth, glowering at his friend. "Why the hell would I want to pretend to eat and drink when I can actually do it?"
Cartman rolled his eyes. "Now you sound like Stan. You do it for the same reason you play with toy trucks instead of driving around. Now stop your bitching and play along."
Kenny growled beneath his breath. "You don't give a poor person who hasn't eaten all day FAKE FOOD you dumb shit!" He threw the plastic cookie at Cartman's head. "I'm going to Butters house. He's having mac and cheese for lunch, with little hotdogs mixed in and chocolate milk."
Cartman's hand formed into a fist, which he promptly smashed against the tabletop in frustration. "You're not going anywhere! I am SICK of this! I WILL have company at this fucking tea party! I WILL have a heart-warming display of friendship, Kenny!"
Following his statement, Cartman pulled a small handgun from out of his coat pocket.
"Sit down" he commanded in a cool yet dark tone of voice.
Kenny looked down the barrel of the gun, blinked, and broke into wild laughter.
Cartman placed a hand over his mouth.
"You'd better do what he says," Peter Panda advised Kenny. "He's fucking crazy!"
"Yeah. He's killed before," Polly Prissy Pants warned next.
"I know," he continued to laugh. "And I've been killed before. You think that's gonna keep me here?" He grabbed Cartman's hand and pulled it up until the gun rested against his forehead. "Go ahead and shoot, asshole. You're either killing me or I'm leaving. Either way, I won't be joining you for afternoon tea."
Cartman growled, glaring at his smartass companion. Out of spite, he quickly cocked the gun and pulled the trigger. He knew it wouldn't keep Kenny there for long, but it was worth it to cause the son of a bitch a little brief discomfort.
Kenny's soul peeled out of his useless body and began the journey upward. Apparently, there would be no macaroni and cheese with little hot dog pieces mixed in for lunch at Butters house today, either.
"Fucking Cartman," he sighed.
Cartman sighed in defeat. He tucked his gun away and reached for his cell phone yet again. As he kicked Kenny's limp body out of public view, he scrolled through his contacts list.
Realizing quickly that he didn't have many friends in that electronic phone book, or in life in general, Cartman frowned. He was running out of options. It would be dark soon and the dolls were growing impatient. The fat boy didn't want to spend another Saturday afternoon alone in his backyard with no one to play with. He'd never admit such a thing out loud-it sounded too gay-but it was the truth. He needed someone to interact with. Another human being to forge a fond memory with. Preferably a fond memory featuring Cartman's favorite game of make-believe. If only just this once.
His eyes bugged out as he glanced at the last name on his list: Kyle. Cartman's fat finger hit the appropriate speed dial button on his phone. He was glad he had the Jew on speed dial. He'd most likely back out of calling if he had enough time to think and slowly dial each individual digit. Just calling Kyle up for a friendly get-together made Cartman feel sick to his stomach. He repressed the bile rising in his throat and rehearsed his most pleasant tone as he waited for an answer.
Kyle grabbed the phone out of his pocket without even glancing at the caller I.D. He was on his way to Stan's house, and that usually only took a few minutes, but this time he'd got held up with Ike. Stan was obviously wondering what the hell was taking so long. Kyle flipped the phone open.
"Hey, Stan. I'm coming. Almost at the end of the block."
Cartman blinked. "Stan? No Kahl, it's me. Eric."
Kyle stumbled, nearly tripping onto the sidewalk. "It's you, 'Eric'?" He repeated, the quotation marks evident in his voice. "What the hell is wrong with you, Cartman?"
"What's wrong? Oh not much. I'm just having a sweet party and you're not here, that's all."
"I guess that's what makes it sweet," he snapped.
Eric rolled his eyes. Normally a statement like that was true.
"Just get down here Kahl," Cartman nearly ordered.
"Can't." He rejected flatly. "I'm meeting Stan and I'm already late. Come on, Cartman, you know I'd rather hang out with him than go to some stupid party, especially a party you're having."
Cartman frowned. As he spoke again, seemingly genuine sadness filled his voice.
"Yeah, I know. Believe me I know. All day long people had more important things to do than come to mah party. I was hoping you'd be different, but you'd rather see Stan for the millionth time. You're already late, but I guess you can't be a few minutes later."
"Yeah, I would rather see Stan for the millionth time." Kyle snapped, still not buying it. "Stan is nice to me. And unlike you, Stan would have invited me to his party because he wanted me there, not because no one else wanted to come!"
Cartman sniffled into the phone, now forcing himself to add a few crocodile tears to his real-life sadness.
"You think I'm enjoying this?! You think I WANT to invite my worst enemy to my party?! I've got no other options! You're damn right Stan would've invited you and you would've came! You know why?! Because he's your friend! You have friends Kyle! People want to go to your parties! I...I don't have that..."
With that, Cartman began to sob loudly into the phone.
Kyle's expression softened. "Hey... don't... don't cry Cartman. I mean, sometimes you're not so bad. I guess."
"Th-then wh-why don't I h-have...f-f-friends?" Cartman asked through choking sobs. "I j-just want s-someone to come to m-my p-party a-and no one wants to d-do it!!!"
He wailed into the receiver, letting the tears fall.
Kyle slowed his pace until he came to a stop, frowning into the phone.
"That's not true," he soothed, wanting Cartman to feel better, though he wasn't quite sure why. "You're... kinda my friend...thing."
"Then w-why won't y-you c-come to m-my p-p-party?" Cartman asked, still crying.
Kyle hesitated, pursing his lips together. "Well... Stan." He emphasized, as if to say "Duh!"
Cartman sniffed. "Couldn't you...Couldn't you come for just a little while?" he asked. "Please?"
He considered it a moment, then sighed. "Goddamnit. Okay, I'm almost at your house anyway, since I have to pass it to get to Stan. I can stop by for a little while."
"Really?" Cartman asked, sounding touched and relieved already. "You're seriously? Wow, thanks Kyle. Thanks a lot!"
Cartman hung up his phone and wiped his eyes. He sighed happily, quite pleased with himself.
Kyle slipped his phone back into his pocket, continuing onward until he came to Cartman's house. With a sigh, he knocked on the door, hoping to get this over with as quickly as possible.
Cartman answered the door, grinning widely. "Hey Kahl!" he said enthusiastically. He put his hand on the boy's shoulder, ushering him inside the house. "Dude, you are gonna be so glad you came," he bragged. "This party is awesome!"
"What's so awesome about it?" he asked dully, skeptical a party no one came to would be any fun at all, especially without his best friend there.
Cartman moved through the kitchen with Kyle, grabbing a snack for himself. He opened the backdoor, leading Kyle into the backyard.
"Tada!" Cartman exclaimed with a mouthful of pastry. "Guys, this is Kyle. Kyle, this is the guys." Cartman pointed his finger around the table. "This is Peter Panda, and Rumpertumskin, and Polly Prissy Pants. Of course Clyde Frog. And-"
"Polly Prissy Pants?" Kyle cut him off, one eyebrow arched high on his forehead.
Cartman smirked, nudging his friend in the side as he whispered to him.
"You like her huh? H'yeah. Clyde Frog's been checking her out all day."
"Dude, I..." He scoffed in disbelief, shaking his head, then turned to leave without another word.
Cartman once again went for his gun, stopping Kyle in his tracks when the other boy heard the clicking noise that accompanied preparing the weapon to be fired.
"Sit down," Cartman said calmly.
Kyle turned slowly, trying not to let his fear show. "Jesus Cartman. What the hell are you doing?"
"Having a heart-warming moment of friendship," he answered coldly. "Sit," he repeated.
"Don't be stupid, fat ass." He growled. "You can't seriously keep me here at gunpoint to play some stupid, girly tea party game! Do you have any idea how gay this is, dude?"
"Do you have any idea how it feels to not have anybody to play your favorite game with?" Cartman asked in response. "Everyone else has friends. Fond memories of playing games with people they like. I don't have that. Not with my favorite game. I deserve it, and I'm going to have my moment Kyle. Just sit down and cooperate, and you'll be out of here in a few minutes."
Something about his tone made Kyle sit, though he did so with an openly disgusted expression on his face. "Cartman- you're even more of a twisted fucking bastard than I gave you credit for."
"Flattery will get you nowhere," Cartman informed him.
Still aiming the gun at Kyle, Cartman walked over to the last remaining member of his animal posse: Welling Bear. Specifically, Wellington Speak and Record Bear. He turned up the volume on the toy, making sure it was still set to an ON position. Smiling, Cartman passed Kyle a cup of imaginary tea.
"How's your tea, Kahl?"
He folded his arms. "I don't know how the tea is, Cartman, because I'm not playing!"
Cartman's eyes narrowed. He aimed the loaded gun between the Jew's eyes. "Drink the tea, Kahl," he instructed.
His eyebrows furrowed darkly. "Goddamnit," he sighed, picking up the teacup and pretending to sip.
"It's good huh?" Cartman asked. He scooted Wellington Bear across the table with his free hand, making sure Kyle's response could be picked up by the recorder.
Kyle clenched his teeth, nearly breaking the handle off the cup with his tight hold. "Yes, it's very good."
"You want some more?"
"Don't give that dirty Jew any tea!" Clyde Frog said.
"Now Clyde Frog, Kyle's our special guest," Cartman reminded him.
"I agree with the frog," Kyle quickly interrupted. "He's right; I'm a dirty Jew. I shouldn't get any tea. I shouldn't even be here. It's like... it's like an insult to your other guests."
Cartman smirked. "Much as I enjoy getting that quote on tape, I'm afraid that's not going to save you. Why don't you say hi to your little girlfriend?" Cartman suggested, motioning his head to Polly Prissy Pants.
"That is not my girlfriend. That is a doll that little girls get on Christmas morning, and little brothers shoot at with Beebe guns because they suck!"
Cartman placed his hand over his mouth. Just then, the doll began to 'talk' once again.
"Whatever! You're just mad you can't have me!" the feminine doll replied.
"I could if I wanted, but I don't! I don't want you!" Kyle yelled. "Wait...Why the hell am I talking to a doll!?"
Cartman remained oddly quiet, his hand still over his mouth, as the other dolls spoke up.
"You were right, Eric," Rumpertumskin admitted. "You did get a human friend to play tea party with us. This Kyle kid is pretty kewl."
"Yeah, you're awesome for bringing all this company over, Eric," Peter Panda said next. "You are smart and kewl. Everybody likes you."
"Jesus," Kyle breathed. "You need help, Cartman. You need serious, professional help, because I don't think you're well at all."
"He's fahn," Clyde Frog assured Kyle.
Cartman's hand dropped from his face. "Well guys, I think tea party's almost over," he announced sadly. His hand went right back over his face.
"Awww!!!" the dolls cried out in unison.
"Oh, thank God," Kyle cried, squeezing his phone through his pocket. He was ready to call Stan the minute he was free.
"But we should thank our special guest Kyle for coming," Cartman decided. Again, his hand covered his mouth.
"Thank you for coming to our party, Kahl," Peter Panda said. "It's so nice to have a human guest for once. Even if he is a big-nosed, filthy Jew."
"My nose is not big!" he complained, covering it with one hand.
"It was very nice having you Kyle," Rumpertumskin said.
"Yeah. You still aren't half the man Eric is, but you're okay I guess," Polly 'complimented' next.
Cartman put his hand down, speaking normally again.
"Well Kyle? Thank them for the nice things they're saying about you."
"I'm not going to thank your stupid toys, Cartman!" Kyle wailed. "Just let me leave now!"
Cartman sighed. The stubborn little firecracker was starting to piss him off. Luckily, he'd already gotten what he wanted from Kyle. Cartman suddenly raised his gun in the air and fired off a warning shot, proving the weapon was loaded. He then just as quickly placed the gun's barrel right up against Kyle's forehead.
"But you did have a nice time at my tea party, right?" the fat boy asked.
Kyle sat ramrod straight, not even daring to blink. "Y-yeah, I did. Rumpertumskin is really nice. Thanks Rumpertumskin." He swallowed hard, making a mental note to never, ever be anywhere alone with Cartman again
Cartman smiled. He closed his eyes, savoring the moment a few seconds before he slowly pulled the gun away from Kyle's head. He shut off the recorder and sighed happily, seemingly finally at peace with his inner-dilemma.
"...You can go now," he announced to Kyle. "And Kyle? ...Thank you."
Kyle sat for a minute, feeling torn between hatred, concern, and guilt. Maybe Cartman was mentally fucked, but how much of that was his and Stan's fault for ignoring him half the time?
"Cartman? I guess... I guess this wasn't so bad." He rubbed his arm nervously. "You wanna come hang out with me and Stan?"
Cartman's eyes widened after hearing Kyle's generous offer. He then smiled, appearing as though he might accept the invitation.
Then, he laughed.
And laughed some more.
Then some more. He laughed so hard, he ended up accidentally firing the gun off again.
"Hang out?! W-with YOU and STAN?! HAHAHAHAHAHA!! Nah, that's kewl, you two go make out by yourselves! HAHAHAHA!!!"
Kyle glowered as dangerously as possible, but instead of arguing, he took his exit as quickly as possible, pausing only to shake his head and mutter to himself. "Fucking fat-ass."
The laughter stopped almost as soon as Kyle exited the backyard. Cartman sighed and began to pack up his stuffed animals and tea set. He made sure to pack up Wellington Bear extra carefully. Cartman knew he'd need that tape later on. Possibly for reminiscing, possibly for blackmail, or possibly for both.
Either way, it would be a long time before he felt the need to play tea party again.
-KyleisGod & BratChild3