EDIT: This is a more heavily edited and (hopefully) improved version of this story- I am known to periodically do this to my old stuff to make it more palatable. For those of you who are new, this was written before Scott Tenorman's revenge in the Chili Con Carnival. For those of you who have read this before, I hope you see improvement- and I'll be adding a little short extra scene soon as a treat for dealing with these updated chapters spamming your email boxes. Thanks for reading!
Prologue: Don't Make An Ass of Me
Mephisto printed out the results to the most recent DNA test he'd done and walked over to the printer, ignoring the screaming child behind him. Nonchalantly, he picked up the sheet of paper and scanned the lists of letters and numbers, giving the occasional stoic nod to fool his guest into thinking he was actually giving a damn about what he had to say.
However, he couldn't blame the boy for his tantrum; after all, DNA was one of Mephisto's life's passions as well. The fresh ink on the paper tickled his olfactory sensors and he held it up closer to his nose to take a big whiff. The secrets it revealed were amazing, spectacular, wonderful, pulchritudinous, sensuous, bodacious, buxom, buttcheeks…
"Read the damn results! Stop fantasizing about your many-assed animals!" To speed up the process, the angry nine-year-old flung a nearby hamster by one of its five posteriors into the donkey with the same unusual mutation. "Do it!" he hollered.
Nodding placidly once more, Mephisto took another look at the sheet in his hands. Yes, the data was listed here. He looked at the boy and answered him gravely.
"In my hands, I hold the answer you seek."
"I know that!"
"She resides here in South Park."
"Well, duh, assmaster! All the samples I collected were from here!"
"It is a ninety-nine point nine percent match."
"Come on! Just read the damned results!"
Mephisto, fed up with his client's interruptions, handed the paper to his midget assistant and turned his full attention to his guest. "Child, your ass may be as big as all my beautiful creations' put together…"
The child gave a belligerent screech. "Aw, you're gonna stop to lecture me about these freaks being fivesome butt buddies?"
"…but that doesn't mean that you have the right to ruin my anticipation building. Be patient," Mephisto finished.
The boy turned livid.
"Dammit, Mephisto, I've waited three whole days for these results, and my whole entire life for these answers! Don't be telling me about building up the anticipation!" He jumped Kevin and tore the paper from his midget hands.
"You should really pick on someone your own size," Mephisto commented, but the aggressive child was too busy absorbing the facts on the paper to make a wise-ass crack about the scientist.
Here in his hands was the answer- so many mysteries and secrets would be stripped butt-naked by this knowledge! His eyes flew over the paper in search of the one sentence that could make his little world bear all.
Instead of revealing the secrets of the unknown, the information the boy absorbed turned the tables and left him exposed and vulnerable.
"No way." he swallowed hard. "No way. This can't be." Mephisto watched his young client's face fall in disbelief.
"Mephisto, is this a joke? This is some kind of sick-ass joke, right?"
The mad scientist shook his head.
Eric began to tearfully beg. "No! No! This isn't true! Do the test again! It can't be right!"
"I'm sorry. I have no doubt in my mind that this is correct. Everything matches up." Mephisto gave Eric a long, hard stare. "Besides, you don't have the money for another test," he reasoned.
"No! No! I can't deal with this! I CAN'T DEAL WITH THIS!" Despite his protests, Eric knew that there was no denying the words on the page. With dread, he chanced another glance at the paper lying innocently on the floor.
The words on it had not changed- they still bore the inconvenient truth- the other one, the one Al Gore failed to share with the world.
The DNA test revealed that the biological mother of Eric Theodore Cartman was none other than Sheila Broflovski.