"Dude, I fuckin' hate school." Stan muttered as he walked along side his best friend. His friend Kenny walked beside his right side while a fat boy Eric Cartman walked beside Kenny. His best friend walked along his left side and replied,

"I know, Stan, you've said that a million times today. Why do you hate it so much?"

"I need a reason? Ugh, I hate high school…it's too much stress." Stan rolled his eyes.

Kenny muffled, "Fidjoohurawoutrehblay?"

Cartman scoffed, "Ha! Yeah, I heard about the school play. Did you hear about it, fag?"

Stan glared, knowing full well that Cartman was referring to him. His best friend stuck up for him, though and took the hit, "How do any words penetrate the layers of fat around your ears?"

Cartman glared as Stan and Kenny laughed. Cartman snarled, "Shut up, Jew, I'm not fat, I'm big-boned."

"Well that explains why there's no room in your skull for anything more than a pea-size brain."

The boys laughed again as Cartman's face went red and he barked, "Shut the fuck up, you fuckin' Jew, no one cares what you think!"

The laughter died out slowly and reluctantly; as Stan wiped away an invisible tear with a last chuckle he asked, "Well, what about the school play?"

Cartman told him all-knowingly, "Well they wanted to do Romeo and Juliet, but apparently there wasn't a girl good enough in the load they got to audition."

"…so they're not doing Romeo and Juliet?" Stan inquired.

"No, they're doing it. They're just doing it 'the old-fashioned way'. Just boys doing all the parts. The girls are going to be extras and crew helpers. It's gonna be mad gay. Total sausage fest." Cartman mocked.

The boy in the green Ushanka who walked alongside Stan's left sneered, "God, you're so immature, Cartman. You know people actually enjoy that kind of stuff, you shouldn't insult it just cause you have no talent and an ego fatter than your ass."

Cartman glowered towards the boy and fought, "What about you, KAHL? HUH? YOU WANNA GO AROUND SPEWING POEMS TO GAY BOYS?"

Kyle rolled his eyes again and retorted, "Not at all, you fuckin' fat ass. I'm just open-minded."

Cartman smirked, "You call me fat ass cause you're jealous, everyone knows that chicks dig big butts."

"What?" Stan and Kyle snorted.

Cartman added confidently, "Duh, haven't you ever heard the song Daddy Got Back?"

Kyle glared as Stan and Kenny burst into laughter, Kyle told him all-knowingly, "You fuckin' retard, that's Baby Got Back, and it's about girls with big asses."

Cartman snorted, "Whatever, doesn't matter cause girls still like guys with good butts, but you don't even have one."

Kyle flustered and perked a brow, "Oh, so you hate gays cause you're insecure about staring at my ass all day, Cartman?"

The fat boy's eyes filled with anger as he argued, "N-NO! YOU FUCKIN' PERVERT!"

Kyle laughed, "Heh, yeah, 'I'm' the perv."

Cartman seethed and announced, "That's it! Screw yew guys, I'm goin' home…"

With that the boy stormed away from them. Kyle looked to Stan as he laughed with Kenny and asked,

"What's his issue?"

"He's a power-hungry, obese, hormone-driven adolescent with sociopathic tendencies." Stan replied.

Kenny added, "Mehtendgisgomsfuhdowr"

Stan repeated, "Yeah, and his mom's a whore."

Kyle smirked, "Yeah I guess…"

"Teelewjeesyata!" Kenny called as he waved good-bye and ran off to another block.

They waved and responded cheerily, "Yeah, see ya, Kenny!"

They walked in a comfortable silence for a few moments before Kyle began watching his feet striding across the cement. Kyle suddenly muttered, "H-hey, Stan…would you…uhm…we're still…super-best-friends, right?"

Stan chuckled, "Yeah, 'course…why?"

"Well…super-best-friends…they…they'll do anything for each other, right?" Kyle asked shyly.

"Uhm…yes?" Stan responded hesitantly.

"Well…would you…" Kyle finally looked up to Stan with pleading eyes and an awkward smile, "would you tell me if I have an ass or not?"

Stan's face contorted as he stammered, "W-what?!"

Kyle blushed, "I just…I just want to make sure Cartman isn't right…I mean…I have some ass, right? I'm not just…just bone, right?"

Stan sighed and looked around; there was no one within miles. The streets were practically deserted. Stan reluctantly breathed deeply and told Kyle, "Uh…okay…walk…walk ahead of me."

Kyle laughed ungracefully, "T-thanks, dude…"

Kyle did as told and walked ahead of Stan, and after a moment Stan followed. Stan watched Kyle's big (but not obnoxiously so) feet moving along the concrete, then to the hem of his green corduroy pants. Where his calves and knees met was clear because of all the muscular shaping they earned from the track team at school, but although he was strong and his muscles were certainly there, he was still lanky and thin. His thighs did not touch, making him almost appear like a scene-kid on some Ska CD cover. Finally Stan's eyes met the bottom of his best friend, but instead of the repulse he was positive he would feel wash over him, he was intrigued. He examined the small crease between his thighs and bum; where the corduroy lines curved in a little hump and crawled upward. The lines hugged Kyle's form, tightly wrapping around the small, but full hill of Kyle's end. Either side of the pants lifted or fell slightly as either leg lifted or strode, becoming tight and loose around his cheeks in intervals. Stan admired the perfectly rounded shape and short distance from his thigh; his face flooded scarlet as he realized: Oh, God…Kye…has a…cute butt…

He gave himself a mental shake and finally spoke up, "Uh…it's fine, Kye…"

Kyle turned to him and Stan found himself stuck staring at that small crease that rotated as Kyle's hips swiveled. The cute bump was surely hypnotizing him, forcing him to stare;

"F-fine? What does that mean? Was Cartman right? Do I have nothing there? Am I like a flat board?" Kyle interrogated.

"Uhm…" Stan trailed; too distracted to respond.

Kyle looked behind him, spotting nothing interesting he asked, "What are you looking at, dude?"

Stan literally shook his head and stuttered, "W-what? N-nothing…"

Kyle stepped toward him and clutched his shoulders, shaking him and directing, "Dude, I can't have you zoning out on me like that! You've gotta snap out of it, this is a time of crisis! I need to know, is my ass acceptable?!"


"Even satisfactory will do! I don't mind, really, I don't need to be Advanced Placement for everything! I just want to know…is my ass okay, Stan? Is it…is it good at all?" Kyle begged, embarrassed eyes pleading…

Stan sighed, trying to drain the blood from his face as he replied, "It's…it's good, Kye…it's great."

Kyle flustered, "Great?"

"Y-yeah…I'm…uh…kind of jealous, dude…" Stan told him honestly.

Kyle chuckled, "You're funny."


"Yeah. You can always make me laugh."

Stan smirked, "Well, I wouldn't call this your most desperate hour, dude."

Kyle let go of Stan and moved back to his side, walking with him again. Stan's eyes kept trying to travel to Kyle's back-side, kept trying to sneak a peek at the curve of the small of his back onto that perfect, small hill. Kyle suddenly spoke, shocking Stan and forcing him to instantaneously snap his eyes forward;

"Hey, Stan…Wendy's over there…"

Stan looked to her; he had grown to really dislike Wendy Testaburger. Sure, she was a nice piece of ass, but other than that she was snobby and self-centered. She seemed like a lifeless puppet when she wasn't the center of attention. Stan sighed and groaned, "Why do you still tell me that whenever you see her?"

Kyle rubbernecked to stare at the girl gabbing to her friends across two blocks as he replied, "Dunno…guess it's instinct."

Stan stopped in mid-walk and turned to Kyle, "Hey…Kye…we're going to my house…and getting…water balloons."


Stan grinned viciously, "Because I hate preps."