Kyle Broflovski groaned and smashed his face into his pillow. Today was the day. Everything in his room seemed to suggest it from the rented tux hanging from a knob on his bureau to the speech he was supposed to read in Hebrew sitting on his desk.

Forgetting that he didn't even know Hebrew that well and forgetting that he should already be extremely nervous, Kyle slowly proceeded to slide his covers back, scrunch his eyelids open and closed until it hurt less to see light, and touch his bare feet to the floor. It was a Sunday morning, the kind that made you want to get back into bed because the birds were silent and the temperature was cold and you were just feeling like you were really hung over even though you weren't.

While he stumbled down the stairs, Kyle tried to remember his speech in his head, realizing that he'd forgotten it already.

"Dammit," he muttered quietly as he sat down in his usual seat, picking up Ike's box of cereal, still feeling hung over.

"Kyle, just because you're bar mitzvah is today doesn't mean you can swear whenever you want. Actually, you should be acting much more mature after today, considering you're supposed to be a man now." Sheila Broflovski hadn't even looked back at her son from the stove as she fried something kosher. If it had been anyone else's mother they wouldn't have heard Kyle swear.

Feeling too tried to even muster an eye roll at his brother, Kyle yawned and poured cereal into his bowl, not bothering to apologize. It would only make the conversation last longer. Right before he raised his spoon to his mouth the phone rang loud and shrill. Kyle didn't have to guess who it would be. But that didn't mean he had to actually get up and get it just because he knew who it would be, did it?

"Kyle, it's probably Stan."

Kyle didn't move, just looked up at the phone as it vibrated madly, almost falling off the wall.

"Kyle," his mother said in her warning tone. Kyle sighed and got up to get it. So now his mother called him out on mumble-swearing and knew when it was Stan calling?

"Hello." He answered very enthusiastically, of course.

"Happy bar mitzvah, Kyle!" Stan cheered, somehow sounding cheery even at the early hour. Which was very unlike him. Stan, like Kyle, was not a morning person. Kyle scratched at his rear over his boxers.

"Um. Thanks, Stan." He twirled the phone cord (circa 1960) around one finger and leaned against the wall, still fighting off sleep.

"Are you even dressed? You sound like you're about to pass out. Have you eaten yet?"

Kyle groaned. Not Stan too. Couldn't everyone just try not to bother him for a few minutes? Ike chuckled at Kyle's groan, covering his laughs with the wet napkin in his hand. Kyle ignored him.

"No, are you dressed?" More muffled laughter from Ike.

"Well, no. Not exactly. I'm half dressed, at least. But seriously, have you eaten yet? You sound dead." Stan was always looking out for Kyle's annoying and exaggerated diabetes issues. Usually it was sweet. Today it was frustrating.

"I was about to before you called." He knew he must sound like a pissy little bitch, but he didn't care. Regardless of what his mother said, Kyle knew Stan would put up with his crap today.

"Oh. Go ahead. I'll see you there, then?" Kyle could hear Stan use his 'I swear I'm not offended, just ignore me' voice and Kyle instantly felt like a horrible best friend.

"Hang on, Stan. I'm sorry. Wanna meet me halfway there?" He softened his tone, keeping his voice low so his brother wouldn't hear. Ike had been even more annoying lately, taking everything he heard in the most sexual way possible and being especially sarcastic and cruel.

"Sure, Ky. By the bus stop?"

Kyle glanced out the window, eyeing the piles of snow outside with a death glare. Trudging through snow while he carried his garment bag and specially ordered shoes would not be easy. But he didn't want to bail on Stan.

"Yeah. I'll be there in about an hour, okay?"

"Sweet! I got you a present, Kyle. You're gonna love it!" Stan's frantic, enthusiastic voice could be heard over the sizzling frying pan and Ike's loud chewing. And chuckling.

"A present? Dude, you didn't have to. Just... make Cartman lay off the Jew jokes if you could. That'd be enough." Kyle really didn't know why he even invited Cartman to begin with. He supposed he would pay for it later if Cartman got his panties in a twist over it but he honestly didn't know why Cartman would want to come anyway. When he RSVP'd 'yes' Kyle had been a little disappointed, wanting to spend some time exclusively with Stan and Kenny today. Or, you know, just Stan.

"Please, Ky. You know you want it." Stan's ability to read Kyle's mind never got old.

"Okay. So maybe I want it," Kyle admitted. "I'm a little curious." Ike's laughter was almost loud enough to turn his mother's attention away from their breakfast cooking. He mumbled something that sounded a lot like "bi-curious, maybe" into his palm. And, of course, Sheila hadn't heard it.

"Alright, Stan. I gotta go but I'll call you before I leave."

"Don't forget to wear your special underwear, Ky," Stan reminded him gravely. The previous week, when they had been planning for the occasion Sheila had shown Kyle the specially designed underwear that was supposed to be made of some traditional Jewish material. In front of Stan, Kenny, and Cartman, of course. That hadn't been awkward or anything.

"No, wouldn't want to forget that. See you."

"See you, Kyle."

Kyle hung up the phone gently in it's spot on the wall. It surprised him how much brighter he felt after talking to Stan for a mere five minutes. It's amazing the power a best friend had. He didn't even really feel tried anymore. Making his way back to his chair, Ike just stared at him, surppressing laughter.

"What do you want, Ike?" Kyle said this as he spooned several helpings of Frosted Flakes into his mouth.

"Nothing," Ike snorted. "It's just you two, talking so casually about each other's underwear and special presents," he said meaningfully. Raising a brow, he continued. "What do you think your present is, Ky?" He asked, emphasizing Stan's nickname for Kyle.

Kyle flushed. "Shut up. And don't call me that." His mouth had dropped a bit at 'underwear' and he'd lost some of his cereal to his bowl, leaving a milk stain on his sleeping shirt.

"Why? Is it reserved for your boyfriend?"

"That's quite enough, Ike," Kyle's father said, finally deciding to get up. He crossed the room looking worse than Kyle had felt earlier, wrinkled shirt and pants, hair hanging off to one side of his head.

Ike finally shut up, making Kyle relieved. He was happy for once that their father didn't tolerate their bullshit.

"Is that kosher bacon I smell?" Gerald said, perking up. Sheila smiled and raised the pan, receiving an approving look for Gerald.

When his mother came around to him, Kyle politely declined the bacon, preferring only to eat the bacon at Stan's in secret, liking the taste of actual meat better. The last time Kyle had slept over at Stan's his parents had made extra food, knowing he wouldn't get any at home, making everything from bacon to hash browns and toasted bagels. But for now, what with Kyle's nervous stomach, he was feeling just fine with his Frosted Flakes, thank you very much.

By the time he had finished eating his stomach was acting up again, making nervous sounds and causing his hands to twitch. Kyle tried to hide them under the table but Sheila, like always, was particularly observant today.

"Buhbee, what's wrong with your hands? Are they cold? Do you need more sugar?" Sheila paced to the sugar container by the microwave and began to scoop out a generous amount.

"No, I'm fine. Just a little nervous, that's all."

"I would be too if I knew my boyfriend was going to be watching me give a speech in a foreign language," Ike said softly, under his breath. His father glared, not putting as much effort into it as usual, shoving helpings of kosher bacon into his mouth.

Kyle got up from the table, hands closed into fists as quickly as he could and ran upstairs, ignoring Ike's protests to be nice to his big brother on his 'special day' from his mother.

Up in his room, Kyle felt the pressure weigh down as he looked on his speech, fancy dress clothes and when he crossed his room to get to the bathroom, his mass of unruly red hair. Stan had always voiced his liking to it whenever he could tell Kyle was feeling embarrassed over it. But Stan wasn't here and Kyle thought -- no, he knew -- it looked like shit. He did his best to tame it, get it a bit calmer and brush it down as best he could before showering, doing it all over again to make sure it didn't look completely retarded and brushed his teeth, checking the clock on the wall for the time. He was supposed to meet Stan in fifteen minutes and he wasn't even dressed yet.


As he raced around his room, pulling on his shoes before his jeans in haste then trying to pull them on after the shoes with no success, he tried to remember his speech, missing a few lines here and there but he figured he'd be able to wing it after the easiest parts. Besides, no one else would know what he was saying besides the temple advisor and his parents.

And then there was Stan. The last time Kyle had practiced his speech on him, Stan had froze up, looking Kyle in the eyes more intensely than usual (if at all possible) and licking his lips before lying his eyes on Kyle's mouth. It was almost as if he'd enjoyed it. But that was ridiculous, wasn't it? Stan, the most gorgeous boy in their grade -- no, their school -- was looking at his best friend Kyle, Kyle the school nerd with the jewfro and pissy attitude, a little sexually. As if.

It's not like Kyle cared anyway. He and Stan had always been close, closer than any other best friends they'd even known and the way they often touched, not only friendly, brotherly touches on the shoulders or backs but comforting, soft ones on each other's knees or wrists were looked on more than a little strangely in South Park. It wasn't as if either of them had cared at all. It had never bothered them much at all, even when Cartman continually called them fags and Kenny often asked Stan if he and his boyfriend would be up for a threesome. Until, that is, Ike had jumped on the bandwagon, constantly snickering at every possible thing Kyle did that seemed even remotely sensitive or caring toward Stan.

Which actually happened more then you would think.

Like just last week when Stan had gotten a little emotional over a rom-com and maybe his eyes had watered a bit but there weren't actual tears. Besides, that P.S. I Love You movie had been pretty damn depressing. Kyle would even admit to getting a little overworked by it. And Kyle realized how gay that sounded. But the fact was, they'd only watched the movie because Sheila had rented it and left it on the coffee table and forgotten to get another movie for the boys.

But if he was being honest with himself, it got a whole lot gayer.

Stan had been about to sleep over that night, toothbrush and pajamas tucked safely away in his bag up in Kyle's room by the door. Only, they'd started the movie around ten and both of them had been playing video games for a while before that so they were already pretty tired. Plus, that damn movie was freaking long. Seriously.

And maybe Stan had pulled off one of his layers (maybe the only layer he'd had on top) and maybe Kyle had too by example. But. That wasn't the point. After the movie was close to being over, Stan been curled up in Kyle's space so while Kyle leaned up against the corner of the couch, sporting no shirt and a blanket from the back of the couch strung out on his hips, he'd ended up half in Kyle's lap, his head on Kyle's shoulder, arms over Kyle's waist.

And, okay, Kyle maybe hadn't woken Stan up when the movie was over because he looked really tired and peaceful, and honestly? It wasn't totally uncomfortable.

Of course, when Ike had come downstairs at three in the morning for a 'midnight snack' he'd walked in on something that even seemed a little weird to Kyle.

They'd gotten even closer in sleep. Kyle had apparently snuggled up to Stan, pulling him in until Stan's body fit into Kyle's like a mold made just for them. And without their shirts on, covered only by a thin blanket, limbs intertwined, they must have looked incredibly gay.

Which is exactly what Ike had said when he prodded them awake, laughing hysterically.

Kyle though it was pretty obvious what had happened next. Stan, a notoriously heavy sleeper, had been gently prodded awake by both Ike and Kyle until Kyle had swatted Ike's hand away for slapping Stan's bare torso too hard. Then, Kyle had become even more embarrassed (if at all possible) when Stan had groaned in his sleep and only moved in closer. Ike burst into another laughing fit and doubled over, clutching his chest while gasping for air.

By the time Stan was awake and had a shirt back on (Kyle's dignity continued to disperse when he'd found that he'd lost his) and gone to Kyle's room and they'd laid down in the same bed, still too close for comfort (at least according to Ike), Kyle knew he'd never hear the end of it.

And he hadn't. Luckily, Ike had kept his trap shut when it came to Cartman and Kenny. Like those two didn't already voice enough accusations. If that little shit so much as breathed a word of it to either of them, Kyle swore he'd hunt the kid down.

Just as Kyle was buttoning up a casual weekend shirt and stuffing his suit into the garment bag his cell phone rang, playing out Kenny's tone ("Shut Up {And Sleep With Me}" by Sin With Sebastian). The story to go with this song, Kyle wouldn't even bother to explain if someone asked.

Kyle frantically felt himself up, searching for his phone. The song continued to play out obnoxiously until Kyle found it and flipped it open, panting.

"Hello?" Kyle answered breathily. Kenny made a woo-hooing sound on the other end. He seemed to be clapping. "What's so funny?"

"Well, I was going to ask where your boy was but by your breathing I can already tell he's with you." He cracked up again.

"Kenny, you asshole, I'm alone in my room."

"Sure, sure. Now can you hand the phone to Stan, please? I need to ask him a quick question about his gift for you. Did he say it was an actual object by any chance?"

"Goddammit, Kenny! He's not here!" Kyle turned to look out his window just in case. Nope.

"Oh, come on, Kyle. I really need to ask him some-"

Someone came up behind Kyle and stretched their hand out, taking Kyle's phone in one quick movement and pulling it to their own ear. The person cleared their throat noisily into the phone. Kyle turned around slowly. Meeting the person's eyes, he sighed and rolled his own eyes, knowing now he really would never hear the end of it.

"What'd you wanna talk to me about?" Stan asked with a wink directed towards Kyle. He paused. "Now why would Kyle go and say such a rude thing like that? I've been here all morning with him...."

"Stan!" Kyle yelled, reaching for his phone. He could hear Kenny's loud cackles from a yard away as Stan raced out of Kyle's bedroom, running out into the hall.

Kyle spotted Stan leaning casually against Ike's bedroom door. Stan checked his watch and nodded. "Yes, I'll be sure to tell Kyle that. Now, we really must leave. Thank you for calling, Kenny."

"What did he want?" Kyle asked, walking up to Stan and leaning on Ike's door frame.

Stan shrugged. "Nothing much. He wanted me to tell you that he's going to tell Cartman about 'this' later." Stan chuckled at Kyle's horrified expression.

"Terrific. That's all we need, more supporters."

"More?" Stan asked with another one of his eyebrow cocks that made Kyle squirm.

"Yeah. Ike's been an jerk all month. I think he's modeling himself after Kenny, actually." Kyle was doing that leaning thing again. Every so often, when he was feeling especially comfortable with his Super Best Friend, he would subconsciously lean closer to him. It wasn't even a voluntary thing. Now they were standing rather close, elbows touching as they stood against Ike's door.

"You alright?" Stan asked questioningly. He laid one hand gently on Kyle's shoulder. "You're tense, I can tell."

To most people this sort of thing would be a little creepy. The sheer fact that Stan could tell Kyle was upset without Kyle have to say so could be considered a sort of coupley thing to be able to do. But after being the way they were for so long it was only natural that they knew everything about one another, down to the weird stuff. Sometimes Stan could even read Kyle's mind.

Kyle instantly relaxed under Stan's touch. He nodded. "I'm fine. Just... nervous."

"If you say so." His hands began slowly rubbing Kyle's tense shoulder. Kyle almost might have maybe started to let his eyes drop. Maybe.

The door opened.

"You guys are so screwing," Ike declared before chuckling and slamming the door shut.

Stan immediately dropped his hand. "You ready, then?"

"Sure," Kyle answered, already missing the feel of Stan's fingers.


By the time they'd gotten to the bus stop, Kenny was already there, waiting with a knowing smirk.

"You two look guilty," he noticed. "Have you been doing anything naughty lately?"

Kyle scowled but Stan slung a reassuring arm around Kyle's shoulders and grinned. "That's really not any of your business, is it, Kenny?"

Kenny wolf-whistled and followed Stan and Kyle, still feeling nervous and now, sort of pissed, up to the temple.

His mother, who had beat them all there by traveling by car though she technically didn't need to be there for at least an hour was standing- or rather, pacing- back and forth along the aisles in the place. When she saw Kyle, still wearing Stan's arm like a scarf, she raced up to him and pulled him away from Stan and Kenny roughly, red in the face.

"Kyle, you need to get dressed. You were supposed to have been in your tux fifteen minutes ago."

When Kyle didn't make any sudden attempts to move, his mother frowned.

"You can spend time with Stan later, Kyle. Go get ready!"

Stan grinned at Kyle as he left, sourly glaring at his mother for tearing him away from his friends. Before he was out of earshot, he heard Kenny whistle again and call out loudly, "What a sweet ass!"

Which was sure to get a few laughs in an uptight Jewish temple filled with the uber-religious and short-tempered. Right.

In the room in the back of the temple, Kyle laid out his tux, shoes, tie (which he still hadn't exactly gotten the hang of tying), and garment bag. Pulling off his shirt, pants, and shoes haphazardly so he could hopefully get in a couple of minutes with Stan and Kenny before his speech.

Just when he'd finished everything but his tie, he frowned and gave it a death-glare as if it would suddenly tie itself instead of being so uncorporative.

"Ky? You in there?"

Kyle flew around, keeping his eyes on the entrance. Stan entered, looking around a bit until he found Kyle, still fumbling over his tie, looking angry.

Stan chuckled to himself and walked up to Kyle, gently brushing Kyle's hands away from the tie to take it in his own and begin to tie it gracefully.

"What are you doing in here anyway?" Kyle asked.

"What? Didn't want to see me?"

Kyle immediately went red. "No, of course not. You just saved my ass."

"Good thing, too. I hear that's one of the things people really like about you," Stan murmured, finally finishing the tie, but letting his fingers linger there.

Kyle went scarlet again, fixing his eyes on the floor which made his neck twinge a little because of the tie.

"I just wanted to see how you were holding up. You seemed a little worried before."

"I was. Am, actually," Kyle confessed, wondering why Stan was still touching his collar and tie.

"Can I do anything to help?" God, Stan was such a great friend. How did Kyle ever get along without him? Oh, that's right, he'd never had too before. He was practically born with Stan as a Super Best Friend.

Kyle sighed dramatically. "Not unless you can take my mind off of this ceremony or my heart rate."

"That could be arranged," Stan whispered before leaning in. Kyle, who now couldn't believe his heart was capable of beating even faster than it had been before, inhaled deeply.

Stan pulled gently on Kyle's collar, which was still in easy-touching range and touched his mouth lightly to Kyle's. Kyle bit back a whimper, going limp beneath Stan's touch. When he pulled back, Stan was grinning.

"How do you feel now?" He asked.

Kyle gulped. "Less nervous. More... confused."

"But you're not nervous anymore?"

"Not particulurly, no." Kyle stared up at Stan with disbelief, wondering where this was going.

"Good. Then my plan worked, didn't it?"

Kyle's mouth dropped. "Huh?"

"Nothing, Ky. Good luck."

And then he was gone.


When Kyle stepped out onto that stage, in front of all of those people (which, granted probably looked to be more than was the case), he could literally feel his heart rate speed right back up. To match his pounding head.

But then he found Stan in the crowd in the second row, aisle seat, right next to Kenny. And Stan winked, making Kyle blush in front of said crowd. But then something strange happened. Miraculously, his head cleared up to full clarity, he stepped right up to the microphone and began rattling off his speech, completely in Hebrew, not missing one line.

When he settled his eyes on Stan again, he looked almost... hungry. There was something flickering in his eyes that hadn't been there before. And it would be an understatement to say that he didn't really mind it.

"Thank you, Kyle," The rabbi said, coming to a halt in front of Kyle and shaking his hand. "That was a truly wonderful speech."

And then everyone applauded and Kyle was just starting to feel completely embarrassed and nervous again when he realized that Stan wasn't in the crowd anymore which only made his heart begin to beat even more dangerously off track.

When Kyle had hugged enough people and shook enough hands to be considered appropriate, he snuck back into the back room where he assumed Stan had gone.

"Stan?" He asked, entering cautiously.

"Hey, Kyle." Stan stood by the opposite side of the room, leaning against the wall, smiling a little. "You sounded really good up there."

Kyle walked over slowly, thinking about how close he had to be to Stan to seem inappropriate. When he got close enough to see the exact color of the blue in Stan's eyes, Kyle slowed.


"You're welcome." Stan edged a little closer, moving away from the wall and into Kyle's personal space.

Kyle gulped.

"Stan," he tried, feeling idiotic. "What... what exactly was that before the ceremony?"

Stan looked to his feet, not speaking for a minute. "What do you want it to be?" Despite the words, he seemed genuine and curious, even a little shy.

Kyle didn't know what to say.

"I'm not sure to be honest. I mean, I know what it was but what was it to you? Did you mean it or were you just trying to calm me down?"

"Kyle," Stan began, "I'm not sure what it is you wanted that to be but I meant it. I knew it would calm you down, sure. But... I also did it for me." Stan seemed to be taking refuge in his shoes a lot today.

"So... you didn't just do it to calm me down?" Kyle felt his voice reaching his famous 'accusation' tone where it would keen and begin to sound almost rude.

Stan blushed, still looking down. "I understand if you don't want to... well... I hope we can still be friends." Glancing up finally, he raised a brow but somehow seemed to do it dejectedly. "We can, right?"

"Stan, why wouldn't I still want to be your friend?" Kyle asked, feeling confused again.

"Oh. I thought that that was the obvious part. I-I really like you, Kyle. More than I should, maybe. Like I said, I'd completely understand if you'd rather just forget this whole-"

Kyle leapt forward before he'd fully realized what he was doing. Hands coming up, one to cup Stan's chin because he still held it down, and one to hold onto the back of Stan's neck. This time when their lips touched both parties were participants.

Stan pulled back first. "Wait!" He exclaimed. "What- Kyle, are you sure about this?"

Kyle smiled. "Absolutely."

Then he leaned in again, brushing his lips against Stan's.

Why had he been so worried about this day, anyway?

"Guys, you in here?" Came a voice from the entrance. God, was it this obvious that they would come in here?

Kenny stepped forward, looking shocked to find that Kyle's arms were around Stan's neck and Stan was pressed up against Kyle, chests touching and breathing in the same air.

"Well, look at that," He breathed. "They finally worked up the courage. That, right there, is beautiful."

Kyle saw Stan rolling his eyes and had to too. It just figured that after all of this time, it turned out that Kenny had known all along that he wasn't really screwing Stan. Leave it to Kenny.

"But really, guys. We're going to Raisins to celebrate Kyle's manhood," Kenny said, motioning to the door.

"But-" Kyle started.

"Don't worry, Kyle. I already checked with your mom. Anything else?"

"Yeah," Stan piped up. "We haven't got any money, genius."

Kenny snorted. "Who are you to say you haven't got any money? Please, I told you, we're going and Cartman's paying with his mommy's credit card."

Stan took Kyle's hand and began leading him out of the backroom. Kyle, feeling slightly rebellious and thinking that by now, most people would have already left, didn't bother questioning Stan on his actions, especially when they agreed with him.

However, most people were not gone. However, his mother and father, Stan's parents, Ike, and Cartman were standing there, apparently waiting right outside the room for them.

Shell-shocked, Kyle went numb and didn't even think to let go of Stan's hand. Even Kenny stood still, looking a little guilty as well.

Cartman, however, began laughing hysterically, pointing and cheeks reddening, howling with it. Ike too, started exploding into fits of over-exaggerated laughter.

Even Gerald, Sheila, Randy, and Sharon were smiling just the teeniest bit.

Kyle had never wanted to die so strongly in his life. He could sense the same emotion in Stan.

Finally, as though just catching on, Kenny began to chuckle, first softly, then louder, and louder still.

Kyle, who was starting to get angry instead of embarrassed, left his hand in Stan's and huffed his frustration.

"What the hell is so funny?"

Cartman was, of course, the first one to speak, still red in the face. "You guys are really-" He stopped to catch his breath. "We all thought that you were just really, really touchy and shit and made up crap about you but you two have totally been fucking all this time, you faggy fags!"

Kyle glared, eyes widening. "First of all, we aren't fucking. Second of all, we weren't fucking." He paused, feeling guilty for swearing in front of his mother again. "Third of all, only you and Kenny and Ike have thought that."

When no one spoke, Cartman and Ike immediately began to laugh again.

"Oh, Buhbee. You know that whatever lifestyle you choose, I'll approve. As long as you're always Jewish, that is," Sheila said, smiling softly.

"What?" Kyle exclaimed.

Sheila chuckled. "Sweetie, you think I've been so blind as to not see that you boys have been dating for awhile now? Remember that night after you boys watched P.S. I Love You and you'd fallen asleep together on the couch, cuddling and-"

"Mom!" Kyle shouted, humiliated. Now everything he'd tried to prevent had happened anyways. By now, Ike was raging with laughter and Cartman was literally rolling on the floor, slapping it loudly.

Stan shrugged, stroking Kyle's hand. "It's alright, Ky. She's sort of right, you know." Kyle looked to Stan in utter disbelief. What was happening?

Sheila patted Kyle's shoulder awkwardly before speaking. "Now you boys go have fun at Raisins."

"Huh?" Kyle asked.

"Well," She said, laughing to herself. "I don't think we have anything to worry about there, do we?" All the parents now joined in on the laughter, sending Kyle into a rage. Which no one knew was good.

"Thank you for the invitation to this lovely ceremony," Cartman's mom said suddenly, walking up to Sheila and hugging her briefly. "But I'm afraid I must go now. I have an appointment with a very talented masseuse."

After she'd left and the boys had all safely made it out of range of evil, tattle-tailing parents, back-stabbing brothers, and cruel on-lookers, Kyle decided to vent his anger on Cartman, because really? Who better?

"Your mom is such a slut, Cartman," He stated as a fact. Stan tensed, still holding Kyle's hand. Kenny bit his lip when Cartman turned around and glared.

"What did you say, Jewfag?"

"You heard me, fatass."

And so, after Stan and Kenny had pried Kyle off Cartman and vice versa, leaving Cartman bruised and breathless, Kyle was once again in a cheery mood. He took Stan's hand in his own and grinned.

"You know, I learned something today..."