A/N: ...Uh heh heh. Not much to say on this. Nope. Well actually, it's just a small little joke and for my sister, I might not even finish this at all. But we'll see soon won't we? Because if you like it, I will finish it. I don't own South Park or Princess Bride, blah blah blah.

"Ooo-oo girl, b-baby please don't go..."

A weak, and raspy cough interrupted the boy's quiet singing and echoed through the small, dark bedroom of the timid blonde, known best as "Butters". The small boy cleared his throat and swallowed hard. The cold he had was taking a real toll on him. "But that's what I get for messin' around in the snow when I shoulda been doing homework" Butters would constantly scold himself. Ah, self discipline.

A knock on the window brought Butters out from him thoughts. He lifted his blue eyes in time to see another pair of blue eyes that belonged to another blonde around his age. Butters let out a squeaky gasp and crawled over to his window opening it up shyly. "K-Kenny, What...What are you doing here?" he asked, he kept his voice down. In fear of two reasons; he'd lose it completely and that his dad would hear and ground him. Kenny grinned and leaned into the open window sliding his whole body inside and plopped onto Butters' bed.

"I just came to check on my little buddy is all." Kenny replied with a shrug. "How are you feeling, Butters?" he asked reached over and pressed a gloved hand to Butter's forehead. Butters frowned.

"Lousy, Ken. Why-Why I-" a sneeze and loud sniffling. "Lousy."

Kenny smiled and pulled his hand back. "I don't got any medicine but I do got something better."

"Oh hamburgers, please keep it in your pants, Kenny." Butters pleaded weakly. Kenny rolled his eyes. "No, you numb nuts. I'm gonna tell you a story."

Butters' face nearly light up like Christmas. "Really? A story?" he asked. The taller blonde nodded, his locks bouncing as his head moved.

"Oh boy, what's it about? Is it about a lost kitty that goes on a neat-o adventure to find her way home?" Butters asked excitement clearly in his voice. Kenny stared at him before breaking the horrible news; "No, dude. No." he mumbled shaking his head, still staring at Butters.

"Aw shucks."

Kenny hoped off the bed and laid Butters back and pulled the covers over the sick boy then pulled up chair and plopped down on it. "Ready?" he asked, tilting his head slightly. Butters nodded as his reply. Kenny hummed and rubbed his chin. "This story is called..."

"Wait, Kenny!" Butters interrupted. "Is-Is this story gonna be scary?"

Kenny laughed; "Are you kidding? Fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes…"

Butters pulled the covers up to his nose and looked up at Kenny with wide eyes. "Oh golly...I-I guess I can try and not pass out f-from fear." Butters mumbled meshing his knuckles together.

"Wonderful. Your vote of confidence is overwhelming." Kenny commented. "Anyway, Butters. The name of this story is The Jew Bride." He went on, making himself comfortable in the small chair. Butters lifted a brow. "The Jew Bride?" he repeated with slight uncertainty.

"Yes as in the bride is Jewish." Kenny replied trying to keep the annoyance clear from his voice.

"What's her name?" Butters pressed. Kenny frowned and leaned in staring intently at Butters "Maybe if you'd stop interrupting me, you'd find out, Butters."

Butters let out a short squeak and nodded, keeping quiet. Kenny proud of this new silence, cleared his throat and began;

"Once upon a time, long ago…there was a Jew named…Kyle."

Butters opened his mouth but a fit of coughs and sneezes came out rather then a comment on the name. Kenny waited till Butters blew his nose and then continued his story.

"Kyle was raised on a small farm in the country of uhh…" Kenny trailed off. After a moment he smiled happily and spoke again. "South-otia Park-ia! His favorite pastimes were riding his horse and tormenting the farm boy that worked there. His name was Stanley, but he never called him that."

Butters blinked and looked at Kenny with a questioning look. "South-otia Park-ia?"

Kenny frowned. "Shut up, Butters. It's creative. Now…Nothing gave Kyle and his Jew pride more pleasure than ordering Stanley around…"


Kyle walked along the small path towards the small stables at the side of his family's home, he kept a strong but gentle hold on his horse's reins as he made his way. His green eyes falling upon a boy slightly older than him with ebony hair falling before his eyes and framed his face was working hard cleaning up the stables. Kyle came to a stop, calling out to him.

"Stan, polish my horse's saddle. I wanna see my face shining in it by morning." He said nearly haughtily. Stan paused in his working and looked to Kyle, nodding his head and replied.

"Sure thing, dude."


Kenny placed his hands behind his head, stretching slightly. " 'Sure thing, dude.' Was all he ever said to him."


Kyle came up towards Stan who was once again working some task on the farm and set down two large pails at his feet, glancing at Stan shyly as if it were his first time speaking to him. "Stan, fill these with water." He commanded, but then softly added; "Please."

Stan walked up towards Kyle, and stopped just mere inches away, Kyle's face flushed. Stan bent down and lifted up the pails.

"Sure thing, dude."


"Kyle was amazed to discover that when Stan was saying 'Sure thing, dude.' What he meant was, 'I love you.' And even more amazing was the day Kyle realized he truly loved him back." Kenny said, glancing down at Butters with a grin.


Kyle was standing in the large kitchen, his hands working the dough for a Lekach. He jumped slightly when he heard someone entering from the back door. He looked over to see Stan setting some bags of grain down and was turning to leave. Kyle's eyes quickly darted around the kitchen, looking for anything to keep Stan from leaving the kitchen. "Stan!" he called out, making the dark haired boy stop in his tracks. He turned and faced Kyle with an expecting look. Kyle swallowed and glanced up, pointing timidly to a pitcher just above his head. "Fetch me that pitcher." He finished quietly. Stan slowly walked over, smiling a bit knowingly. He reached up and grasped the pitcher and brought it down, placing it in Kyle's hands.

"Sure thing, dude." He said softly. Kyle's face nearly turned redder than his hair.

The two boys soon found themselves; standing outside atop a hill that over looked the land. The sun was setting as they looked into each other's eyes, slowly Stan leaned in, Kyle lifted his head to meet Stan's lips.


"Wait, wait!" Butters cried. "Oh Christmas, Kenny…you never said anything about…kissin'! I thought this was gonna be scary…"

Kenny waved a hand. "Wait, just wait. Ya want it to get scary right now? I mean it gets seriously…scary." He whispered. Butters gulped. "Ah…no…kissin's not that bad I guess."

"Now quiet, Butters…where was I? Oh, yeah. Stanley had no money for marriage, so he packed a few belongings and left the farm to seek his fortune across the sea. It was a very emotional time for Kyle."

"Oh, hamburgers."


Kyle held onto Stan's shirt tightly, not willing to let him go for anything. "What if I don't see you again, Stan?" he asked. Stan gave him a reassuring smile. "But you will." He said. Kyle snorted and narrowed his eyes. "What if something happens to you? What then?" he asked with a small snap. Stan sighed and shook his head. "Listen. I'll always come for you."


Kenny busted out laughing, holding his stomach. Butters looked at him with a raised brow. Kenny wiped his eyes and shook his head. "Sorry, dude…" He apologized. "But I said that wrong." He explained to a still clueless Butter and continued.


Kyle frowned at Stan's promise. "But how can you be so sure?" Stan grinned. "This is true love, dude. You think this happens every day?" Stan questioned pulling Kyle into a warm embrace.


"Stanley didn't reach his destination. His ship was attacked by the dread pirate Mysterion, who never left captives alive. When Buttercup got the news that Stanley was murdered,--"

"Mysterion is a meanie." Butters noted rubbing his head.

"He went into his room and shut the door, and for days he didn't sleep or eat." Kenny continued.


Kyle sat in his room, staring at nothing. His eyes were seemingly dead and void of any emotion. They were red and puffed from all the tears he had cried. "I will never love again." He swore to himself.


Kenny glanced at Butters who was rubbing his red nose and sniffing, but not from the cold this time. Kenny chewed on his lower lip but continued his storytelling;

"Five years later, the main square of South-otia Park-ia was filled up like never before to hear the announcement of the great fatass, Prince Cartman's bride-to-be."

Butters erupted into a fit of giggles, and Kenny couldn't help but laugh along.


Cartman stood proudly on his balcony overlooking the ground that was filled with people. He threw out his arms, his robes flapping.

My people, a month from now, our Town will have its 500th anniversary. On that sundown, I'll marry someone who was once a commoner like yourselves...but they're Jewish but I can forgive as you can too. But perhaps you will not find them common now...but still a Jew. Would you like to meet them?

The crowd cried out in unison; "Yes!"

"My people, the Jew- I mean…Kyle!" Cartman announced motioning towards to large doors that opened to reveal an extremely pissed Kyle who wore a dress and tiara to top it all off. He stomped out, his fists clenching at his sides, he glared up at Cartman as the people bowed to him respectfully.

Kyle rode his horse through the small forest just away from the castle. He slowed the animal to a halt when he saw three strangers standing there by the riverside. One was an elegant looking blonde young man, the other a rough looking tanned boy with messy brown hair, and the last was a large dark skinned man.

The blonde stepped forward. "A word my fair man." His voice was soft and apparent that he was English. "We are but three poor, lost circus performers."

There was an annoyed snort from the tanned boy. The blonde smiled ignoring him and continued. "Would you happen to know of a nearby village?" he asked hopefully. Kyle shook his head and replied; "No, sorry there's not a village for miles really." He said, watching as the larger of the three walked forward. The blonde's gently smile turned into a wicked smirk. "Then there is no one to hear you scream." He said before the man grabbed the back of Kyle's neck, silencing the boy's starting scream.

Christophe watched Gregory stick some strange looking fabric onto Kyle's coat. The French boy took a drag of his cigarette and pointed. "What iz zat?" he asked

"Fabric from the solider of Denver-via." Gregory replied.

"Who is Denver-via?" Chef asked, carrying an unconscious Kyle in his arms.

Gregory sighed and finally got the fabric to stick. "The country across the sea. The sworn enemy of South-otia Park-ia!" he set the coat onto the horse and slapped its side. "Go!" he commanded and the animal ran off.

"Once the horse reaches the castle, the fabric will make the prince suspect the Denver-vians have abducted his love. When he finds his body dead on the Denver-via frontier, his suspicions will be totally confirmed." Gregory explained turning to the other two that headed for their boat. Chef frowned. "Wait a minute now…you never said anything about killin' anybody."

Gregory's eyes nearly flared. "I've hired you to help me start a war. It's a prestigious line of work, with long and glorious traditions."

"I just don't think its right to kill an innocent boy." Chef continued. Gregory sighed. "I didn't hire you to think, Chef!"

Christophe pulled the cigarette from his lips and flicked it out to the water. "I 'ave to a agree wiz Chef."

Gregory threw up his arms. "The God hating Frenchmen speaks! What happens to him is truly not your concern! And remember THIS. NEVER forget THIS: You were slobbering drunk when I found you, you couldn't even buy brandy!" Gregory roared, he set his furious eyes on Chef. "And YOU." He bellowed. "Friendless, hopeless, helpless…want to go back working as a lunch man…IN GREENLAND?!" Gregory demanded. He looked between the two not waiting for an answer from either before he stormed off to the front of their small ship. Christophe glanced to Chef.

"Zat Gregory, 'e can fuss."

"Fuss…fuss…I think he likes to scream at us." Chef replied.

Christophe hummed. "Probably 'e means us no 'arm."

"He's really very short on…charm."

Christophe grinned and started to ready the sails. "You 'ave a great gift of rhyme."

"Yes, yes. Some of the time." Chef laughed, helping the French boy out with the ropes.

"Cut that out!" Gregory's voice snapped.

"Chef, are zer rocks a'ead?" Christophe asked glancing up to him. Chef smiled. "If there are…we'd all be dead!"

"No more rhymes. I mean it!" Gregory shouted.

"Anybody want a peanut?"



Kenny jumped when he heard the sound of feet coming upstairs. "Oh shit." He whispered. He looked around before Butters pulled his blankets up. "Hide under the bed, Kenny. Hurry up!" he said, Kenny jumped off the chair and quickly crawled under bed, and was out of view before Butters' parents walked into their son's room.

"Butters, honey." His mother cooed. "We're going to a small dinner party. Will you be alright here alone?" she asked. Butters sniffed and nodded. "Yuh-huh."

"That's my boy. Now you get some rest or you'll stay sick and well…we'd have to ground you, Butters." His father put in.

Butters swallowed. "I know. I understand." He replied. His parents hugged him and left out of the room. After five more minutes the sound of the car leaving could be heard and that's when Kenny crept back out.

"That was close." Butters breathed out. Kenny pulled himself up with the help of the chair and sat back down. "Yeah but now that means we don't have to worry about your parents." He said grinning. Butters nodded and nestled into his blankets and waited for Kenny to start the story again.


"We should reach the cliffs by dawn." Gregory explained. "Why do you KEEP doing that?" he asked, looking at Christophe, who was glancing over his shoulder for what seemed to be the hundredth time that night.

"I zink zat someone iz following us." Christophe replied. Gregory rolled his eyes. "That would be inconceivable." He grumbled.

Kyle who was now awake, glaring at his captors spoke up. "Whatever you jackasses think you're all gonna get caught and when you are the prince will see you hanged." He spat.

"I would be worrying more about your own neck, your highness it's---Christophe, enough!"

"You sure no one iz following us?"

"It would be totally inconceivable. No one in South-otia Park-ia knows what we have done…out of curiosity…why do you ask?"

"Well I looked behind us and somezing iz zer." Christophe explained pulling out a new cigarette and lights it up with a match.

Gregory sighed. "It's probably a fisherman out for a midnight ride…in eel invested waters."

Just then a loud splashing snapped the three men from their bickering. They ran to the side to see Kyle swimming away. Gregory kicked the boat's wall. "Go after her!" he ordered glaring at Christophe.

"I do not swim, and I fucking HATE eels." He replied nonchalantly. Gregory looked to Chef. Chef moved his hands up and down a bit. "Doggie-paddle." He said simply.

Gregory let out a frustrated shout "VEER LEFT! LEFT! LEFT!" he ordered. He glared over to Kyle who stopped swimming, and was looking around fearfully when he heard loud shrieking. "DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT SOUND IS, HIGHNESS?" Gregory taunted. "THOSE ARE THE SHRIEKING EELS. IF YOU DON'T BELIEVE ME JUST WAIT! THEY ALWAYS GROW LOUDER WHEN THEY'RE ABOUT TO FEED ON HUMAN FLESH. IF YOU SWIM BACK NOW, I PROMISE, NO HARM WILL COME TO YOU. I DOUBT YOU'LL GET SUCH AN OFFER FROM THE EELS!"


"He doesn't get eaten." Kenny sighed when he felt a tight pressure on his hand. He pulled Butter's hand off his own.


"The eel doesn't get Kyle. So calm down." Kenny mumbled. Butters blinked. "Ooh oh. That's-That's good."

Kenny nodded and rubbed his hand. "Man you got a grip, dude."


The shrieking grew louder. Kyle felt his heart pounding in his chest as he looked around, the head of a large eel popped out. Kyle's eyes widen largely but before the eel could come closer, he was lifted up and out of the water by Chef and was set down. His red locks hung wet and limply by the sides of his face. Gregory stood over him, sneering. "Thought you were brave, didn't you?" he questioned.

Kyle glared at him. "Only compared to some." He bit back.

Just as Gregory said, they had reached the cliffs by dawn. Christophe pointed. "Look! He's right on top of us!" he said motioning to the ship from the previous night."

Gregory shook his head. "Well whoever he is, he's too late." He said looking towards the cliffs. "Only Chef is strong enough to go up our way, he'll have to sail hours till he finds a harbor." He said with a smirk.


A/N: And I believe I shall stop here. So, what do you folks think so far? I'm taking some lines from the movie since I've seen it enough times, and then I like to add South Park spice to it. Like I said I'm writing this for my sister as a small joke, but if you would like to read more let me know, send me your thoughts!