Disclaimer: All South Park-related things are owned by Matt and Trey...I just made a cool story out of it!

I'm BAAA-AAAACK! This isn't a romance story, but don't worry, if you squint, there's some Kyman goodness. Please enjoy this story, it's a favorite of mine!

Help! I'm Trapped in a Jew's Body!

Ch. 1: It Could Have Been

It could have been a great day. You know when you just wake up and feel happy to be alive? I was going to see all my friends at school, my mam made a delicious breakfast…yup, just fine. I slipped into my nice, warm red coat, grabbed my knapsack, and headed out the door. The weather was a perfect Colorado fall. It was cold enough to see your breath, but not uncomfortably cold. I exhaled a long breath, watching the vapor slide out from my lips like smoke. Doesn't that just sound gorgeous? Well it was. I made my way to the bus stop, pausing to look at my three friends.

Even though I hated him, I was probably closest with Kenny McCormick. He was tall and thin. Well, probably thin because his family didn't have the money to feed him properly. As usual, his facial features were hidden by his orange parka. Too bad, because between the pure blue eyes, gentle smile and flowing light blond hair, he was pretty damn hot. At least that's what most girls say. I think he's poor and therefore nothing more than a piece of crap! Kenny was a known pervert, but also very shy. I often wondered if this personality had anything to do with his tendency of dying. Would it really be worth it to be out-going and make tons of friends if you were just going to die within a few days anyway? Not that Kenny ever let shit like that get him down. He nodded as I stood between him and Kyle Broflovski.

Kyle was smaller than both of us, and though he was thin, he wasn't as bony as Kenny. He was a smart little goody-two-shoes with a bitch of a mom and a temper like a minefield. Like his mom, the ginger could always find something to bitch about…it was his hobby. I really hated Kyle; especially that bright green ushanka he wore to cover his red curls. His green eyes darted to me so quickly; I may have just imagined his ever looking my way. He did stuff like that a lot. He's so indirect and creepy.

"Hey, dude." Stan Marsh actually bothered to talk. He was my third friend and aside from being a total hippie and best friends with Kyle, he wasn't sooo terrible. He wore a brown jacket and red and blue hat over his ebony locks. The dark-blue-eyed hippie must have been in a good mood to be talking to me, telling me once again that it was going to a perfect day. The bus came and we departed for school.


Ah, yes. The continuation of the day that could have been perfect proceeded without a hitch until fourth period. That was when we got our break. As usual, Stan and Kyle led the way with Kenny following aimlessly behind. I followed suit.

"So, what do you wanna do?" Stan queried.

"It doesn't matter," responded the gingerJew. Oh, yeah. The reason I hate Kyle? He's Jewish. I mean, it's not like I'm anti-Semitic or anything, I just hate Kyle and he's Jewish. Anyway, we finally settled on doodling since we only had a few minutes.

Kenny drew girls...with huge racks. I mean H-U-G-E. Ew. What else is new?

Stan drew a football stadium. The freak was even designing uniforms for the team to wear. What a weirdo.

Kyle doodled different faces and expressions. He had this dumb combination of innocence and concentration on his face. It was nauseating, really.

I drew a dinosaur. An effin' sweet dinosaur with fire breath and dragon wings and fangs and a lizard tail! I mean, I was proud. My dino was the pinnacle of cool and I should know, right? So Kyle looked up, green eyes scanning my work.

"Hey, dudes," he simpered in his high, girly voice. "Fatass made a self-portrait."

A self-portrait?! I didn't look like that! Shock ran through my system. How dare he?! My surprise and hurt turned to anger rapidly. Leave it to Jewboy to instigate.

"Ay! Shut up! It is not!" I snapped.

"Yeah," Stan sided with me...wait. Stan sided with me? "It's his dad." So he didn't side with me. Kenny frowned. He knew that kind of thing cut deep. Real deep. I knew my poor friend felt bad, but the redhead simply snickered at the hippie's remark. I stood up, infuriated.

"That's it! It's not true so DON'T LAUGH!!!" Mr. Garrison looked up, glaring. Oops, I had raised my voice. Kyle blinked. I shouldn't get mad. It was a great day, after all.

"Why not?" he asked, his voice challenging. "I bet that's just what he looked like, Cartman. I mean, I can see the resemblance. And we all know your mom'd do anything that moves--"


I moved so quickly, I hardly registered what happened. But suddenly, I was standing over Kyle, who was holding his nose as blood dripped from it. His face was contorted in pain and he looked utterly shocked.

"Eric! Eric, what did you do?" Garrison's voice boomed from behind me.

"Me?!" I cried, turning away from the bloody idiot crumpled beneath me. "He insulted my art, Mr. Garrison."

"No violence in school." he snapped, Mr. Hat waving frantically in his right hand. "Detention! Today! 3:00!"


Stan snickered. "Serves you right, Tubby." he mumbled. He was helping Kyle to his feet. "Mr. Garrison, can I take Kyle to the nurse's office?"

"Of course, Stanley," he responded.

"Fine," I growled, "go make out in the hallway."

"One more work from you and I'll extend that detention, Eric. BREAK IS OVER, STUDENTS!"

Kids all returned to their seats, grumbling. I sat in mine, simmering.


Well, I wish now that I could tell you that I got over our dispute. That as the day went on and Kyle returned from the nurse's office with an ice pack over his nose, we were forced to make up and I felt remorse for hitting him and he for insulting myself and my mam, all because we're friends and that's what's important. But this is South Park. Mr. Garrison didn't give a damn about us fighting. Neither did any of our classmates. It was normal, expected, even. After all, I was the loud mouth, rude, fatass, ego-centered Nazi. And Kyle just happened to be the short-tempered, goody-too-shoe, razor-tongued son of a no-good bitch Jew. We were enemies. He may have instigated this fight, but the chances were it'd be my turn next. And so went the cycle of life.

I at least might have worried about getting said gingerJew back another time had detention not been quite so miserable with Craig flipping me off, Clyde sobbing in the back corner, and Kenny drawing topless women all over my homework paper. (In case you're wondering, Craig was there for flipping Principal Victoria off one too many times, Clyde for slapping Bebe's butt and Kenny for dying on school grounds on Monday.) Oh yeah, and after detention as I walked home, the sixth graders rode their bikes past me, sloshing icy water from the side of the road all over me. I finally did return home, drenched, shivering, and homicidal.

Funny thing about me, when I say homicidal, I mean it quite literally.

Kyle'd be dead by sundown tomorrow.

Uh-oh! Fear not, I'll update in a few days! Tell me what you think in a lovely review!