Author's Note: Two teachers got stuck in the elevator at my school not too long ago. I decided to place Cartman and Wendy in that same situation, since I find this particular pairing to be pretty interesting. (I'm not gonna lie, part of me was kinda hoping Cartman and Wendy were just gonna start intensely making out in that last Cartman fantasy in Fishsticks. XD)

Disclaimer: South Park © Trey Parker and Matt Stone. Love in an Elevator © Aerosmith.

"This is un-FUCKING-believable!" Wendy cried, pounding her fists against the elevator doors. Her hands glided down the surface until they dropped to either side of her, lying limp.

She shot a look at the overweight boy trapped inside the elevator with her. He was busy pressing every single button on the elevator wall. They each lit up one at a time, but nothing happened.

"Stop it, you idiot!" Wendy said, tugging on Cartman's sleeve. "That's not going to help!"

"AY!" Cartman said, shaking off Wendy's grip. "Quit it, bitch! I know what I'm doing!"

"Don't call me a bitch, you prick!" Wendy snapped. She let go of his sleeve and took a glance at her watch. "Fuck…the reception starts in fifteen minutes!"

"No! I can't miss the food!" Cartman said. He pushed one last button, and now he stared at all of them, genuinely disappointed to see that nothing was happening.

"Are you honestly thinking about food? We have more important things to worry about right now, you fat son of a bitch!" Wendy said.

"For your information, you fucking whore, I haven't eaten in like, 45 minutes," Cartman said.

"Oh, EXCUSE ME! You know, there are children in Africa starving to death, you fucking ignorant bastard!" Wendy said. She put a hand to her forehead, almost as if to knock some sense into herself. "Oh, God, why did I choose to take the elevator?"

"Because you're fucking stupid?" Cartman said.

"I wasn't fucking talking to you!" Wendy said. "And that would make you fucking stupid, too!"

"Hey, I'm not stupid, ho!" Cartman said. "I just didn't feel like taking the stairs, that's all."

"Well, that sure as hell isn't a surprise," Wendy said, rolling her eyes. "You're too fucking fat to even walk up the stairs." She leaned against the wall and slid down until she hit the floor.

Cartman crossed his arms. "So…you're just gonna sit there?"

Wendy glared up at him. "Screw you. I don't know how to get this fucking elevator to start working again. We're just going to have to wait for help."

"You know what, fine." Cartman searched through his jacket pocket and withdrew his cell phone. "I'll handle this." He dialed a number and waited for the answer on the other line. "Hola, Raul? Este es Cartman…sí, sí…escucha, estoy en un ascensor en la recepción de boda…sí, ayúdeme…gracias, señor." He hung up the phone and slipped it back into his pocket.

Wendy stared at him, dumbfounded. "You speak Spanish? And who the hell did you even call?"

"That was my Mexican friend, Raul," Cartman said, rolling his tongue as he said the name. "I told him we were stuck in the elevator at this stupid wedding reception and we need help."

Wendy disregarded the fact that he'd just insulted the occasion they were both supposed to be attending in a matter of minutes, and instead she asked, "How long is it gonna take for him to get us out of here?"

"How the hell should I know? Probably not too long. After all, Mexicans are pretty handy when it comes to mechanical stuff," Cartman said. "They aren't really good for much else."

Wendy shook her head and sighed. "You are so goddamn racist."

Cartman smirked. He simply could not deny a true statement like that. "Yeah, well, at least I fucking called for help," he sais, plopping down in the corner opposite Wendy. "So you can't bitch me out anymore. Seriously, you need to learn how to control your mold swings. You must be PMSing pretty bad, huh?"

Wendy immediately jumped up from where she was sitting. "FUCK YOU! I'M NOT PMSING!"

Cartman smirked even wider, amused to see Wendy getting so upset. "Yeah, whatever, skank."

At that, Wendy walked right up to him and grabbed him with both hands by his shirt collar. "I swear to God, I'll fucking kick your ass. Right here, right now."

"Oh, please, as if you could really kick my ass a second time," Cartman said.

Wendy bent her face close to his. "I could kill you."

It was at that very moment that Cartman realized he could practically hear his own heart beating in his chest. His breathing grew heavy as he gazed up at Wendy, who looked more menacing than ever. Finally, he took a hold of her hands and pushed them away, freeing himself from her iron grip.

"Yeah, I don't think so," he said as he stood up and fixed his shirt. "You know, I didn't want to tell you this, but I totally let you win that last time."

Wendy scoffed. "Yeah, okay. And I find you attractive."

Cartman raised his eyebrows, and for a split-second, he felt his heart skip a beat. He promptly collected himself and proceeded to play along. "I knew you couldn't resist my charm. All chicks secretly want me. I have that kind of effect on them."

"Shut up," Wendy said, though somehow, there was less anger in her voice than before. "I was kidding."

"Sure you were," Cartman said. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me."

Wendy rolled her eyes, her impatience rising again. "You are so unbelievably conceited."

"It's not my fault I'm so awesome," Cartman said, suddenly loosening his tie.

"What are you doing?" Wendy asked.

"Taking off this goddamn tie," Cartman said. After undoing the knot, he removed the tie and tossed it aside. "Much better. I hate getting dressed up."

Wendy glanced down at her own outfit, a simple pink dress, while Cartman went on complaining.

"Seriously, who even cares that these two assholes just got married? God, I fucking hate weddings."

"So, I guess you don't plan on ever getting married then," Wendy said.

"Hell no. I could never put up with some bitch nagging at me every single day for the rest of my life," Cartman said. "All girls are the same. They whine about stupid shit, like if a guy doesn't notice their dumb new haircut, and then they'll cry about it and refuse to make their husband his dinner."

"Well, it's pretty annoying when a guy is too fucking oblivious to even notice when a girl goes through so much trouble to look nice," Wendy said.

"All right, all right, you look nice. Jesus Christ," Cartman said.

"What?" Wendy said, taken aback. "No, no, I didn't mean…" She trailed off, as the realization that Cartman had actually just complimented her sank in, and she suddenly blushed. "Um. Thank you."

"Yeah, sure, no problem," Cartman said, also turning red. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, only to pause when he felt something inside one of them. He took out the item and beamed when he saw what it was. "Aww, sweet, I forgot I had these."

"A bag of Skittles?" Wendy said.

Cartman ripped the bag open with his teeth. "Nuh uh, Sour Skittles. This stuff's the shit." He poured a handful of the sugary candies into his palm and popped them into his mouth.

"You know, that stuff is nothing but pure sugar. It has no nutritional value whatsoever," Wendy said.

"Who cares?" Cartman said. He poured another handful into his hand, this time offering them to Wendy.

Wendy hesitated, only to finally hold out her palm, where Cartman dumped the Skittles. "Thanks," she said. "But I'm only eating them because I'm hungry, and I don't know how much longer we're going to be stuck in here."

"Whatever," Cartman said. "Shouldn't be too much longer."

"Oh, yeah? How do you know that? What if we're trapped in here for hours?" Wendy asked, chewing on the Skittles only one at a time.

"Why, are you scared or something?" Cartman asked, an amused smirk stretching across his face once more.

"I'm not scared," Wendy said. "I just hate being stuck in here with you!"

"Oh, really? 'Cause I just love being stuck in here with a crazy fucking bitch!" Cartman said. "Goddammit, you're seriously starting to piss me off."

"Don't fucking talk to me like that, asshole!" Wendy said.

"God, just SHUT UP," Cartman said, putting his hands to his head.


"FINE!" Cartman said, slamming down the bag of Sour Skittles and taking a step towards Wendy.

In one swift motion, Cartman cupped Wendy's face in his hands and pulled her in, kissing her right on the lips. Wendy went rigid. Her initial reaction was to resist the kiss, but at the same time, she liked the sweet flavors lingering on Cartman's lips from the Skittles. She liked how his hands let go of her face to find the small of her back. Feelings of desire took over as Wendy found herself closing her eyes and returning the kiss.

Just then, however, the elevator bell went off. Cartman and Wendy broke apart as the doors slid open. They each tried to gain back control of their fast breathing, their lips tingling from the sour sensations.

"Qué?" a bewildered man asked.

Cartman and Wendy exchanged a glance. Cartman cleared his throat, then commanded Raul, in Spanish, to get the hell out of there.

Raul stared at the two of them, both looking disheveled and sweaty. "You two…getting it on, yes?" he asked in a bad English accent.

Cartman's eyes widened. He looked over at Wendy, who slowly nodded her head in response.

Raul smiled and headed out the door, giving them the privacy they both wanted. Cartman and Wendy grinned at each other as the elevator doors slid shut once again, sealing them away from everyone else, where they were free to kiss some more.

In that moment, Wendy decided that being stuck in an elevator with Cartman wasn't such a bad thing after all.

Edit: I don't know whose wedding it was. I'll leave it open to you, the readers.

Also, in my mind, Cartman and Wendy are nine years old in this, but I suppose their exact age isn't all that important.