Author's Note: This fic isn't slash, but I suppose if you really read into it, you'd be able to find some subtle hints pointing toward one certain pairing…but honestly, this is just a fun boys being boys story. Please read and review! :D
Disclaimer: South Park is owned by Trey Parker and Matt Stone.
It was a warm, sunny afternoon, both a rare and peculiar occurrence for a place like South Park. The sun shined brightly over the town, casting long shadows and illuminating the sky.
Of course, on a particularly warm day such as this one, Stan, Kyle, Cartman, and Kenny had obviously decided to take advantage of it. Well, it wasn't exactly their original idea. They actually planned on spending the whole day inside, playing video games and eating junk food, as they usually did on a Saturday afternoon. Unfortunately for them, their parents forced them out of their comfortable homes, so they had no choice but to come up with something else to do outside, so they chose to play football in a random vacant lot, since there was no place better to go anyway.
"Go long, Jew!" Cartman called after him, clutching the football in one hand, ready to throw it.
Kyle, standing a long distance away from him already, backed up a little further.
"More!" Cartman ordered loudly.
"Goddammit, Cartman! Just throw it already!" Kyle shouted back at him.
"Yeah, come on dude, stop screwing around," Stan, who was standing just a few feet away from Cartman, said impatiently.
"Yeah!" Kenny, standing on the opposite side of Cartman, said in agreement.
"Okay, okay, Jesus. Quit twisting my nuts on this and let me have some Goddamn fun," Cartman said. He stretched his arm out behind him and hurled the ball with all of his strength. He watched with amusement as Kyle ran to catch it.
Kyle jumped up and grabbed onto the ball with both hands, and immediately afterward, came crashing down to the ground, still tightly grasping the ball. "Ow, fuck," he said weakly.
Cartman broke into laughter, holding onto his sides. Stan and Kenny had stunned looks on their faces.
"Damn, dude, I'm surprised Carman can actually fucking throw," Stan commented. "Dude, are you okay, Kyle?" he yelled.
When they didn't hear anything, Stan and Kenny walked over to where Kyle had fallen. Cartman grumbled in annoyance, but he quietly followed behind them.
"Guys!" Kyle said, suddenly popping out from a large heap of trash that he was hidden behind a moment ago.
The other three boys screamed out of shock.
"Holy shit, dude, don't do that!" Stan said, putting a hand over his chest to calm down his rapid heartbeat.
"Oh, sorry," Kyle apologized. "Well, not to you, fatass," he made sure to add. Cartman scowled at him. "But seriously, though, you guys gotta check this out." Kyle motioned for them to follow him.
They walked behind Kyle, and each boy stopped and gaped in amazement at what was laying on the pile of trash in front of them. It was a blue mountain bike, and it looked like it was in pretty decent shape, aside from a few minor faults. The seat cushion was torn slightly, and the chain was a bit rusted. The handle bars definitely needed a good shining, too, but other than that, it really was a perfectly good bicycle.
"Wow, dude. Who the hell would be dumb enough to throw away a bike like this?" Stan asked.
"A retard?" Cartman offered.
"Yeah, well, it doesn't matter anyway, 'cause it's mine now," Kyle proclaimed.
"Whoa, hold on a second, Jew. What makes you automatically assume it's yours?" Cartman questioned, folding his arms over his chest.
Kyle blinked in confusion. "What the hell do you mean, fatass? I'm the one who found it."
"Yes, but I'M the one threw the football, you stupid Jew!" Cartman corrected him. "So, really, if it weren't for that, you wouldn't have found this awesome bike in the first place, so technically, it should be mine."
"Wait, dude, but we were using MY football, so we wouldn't have been playing catch if it weren't for me," Stan argued.
"Hey, wait a fucking second!" Kenny broke in. "I was the one who found this crappy place! So none of this would have happened if we hadn't even fucking come here to begin with!"
"Alright, alright, everyone just shut up for a second," Kyle commanded. "Now, come on, you guys know the rules…finder's keepers."
"Fuck that!" Cartman screamed. "There's no fucking way I'm gonna let you weasel your way into taking this bike, Jew!"
Kyle glared at Cartman menacingly. "Do you even know how to fucking RIDE a bike, fatass?!"
Cartman looked offended. "OF COURSE I do, you fucking Jew!" he defended himself.
"Hey, stop it!" Stan broke up their argument, knowing that it was just going to get worse. "Come on, guys, you all know that I've wanted a new bike for a long time now."
"What about me?!" Kenny asked angrily. "I'm POOR for fuck's sake! I deserve this bike the most!"
"Okay, let's all just calm the fuck down," Stan said, losing his patience. "Now, let's think…we have to come up with a fair way to decide who should get to keep the bike."
The boys pondered in silence for a few seconds.
"I've got it!" Cartman exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "Let's kill Kyle!"
They all gave him surprised and confused looks.
"Come on, you guys, think about it! If we killed Kyle, it would increase the rest of our chances to get the bike!" Cartman explained.
"Huh, that IS true…" Stan reasoned.
"Dude!" Kyle said, horrified.
"Dude, relax, I'm kidding," Stan assured him. "No, seriously guys, maybe we could just share it or something…"
"Are you kidding? As if we could really trust Cartman with it! He'd end up fucking ruining it somehow," Kyle said.
"Yeah, he'd probably fucking break it as soon as he sat his fat fucking ass on it," Kenny added.
They all scoffed at this, except for Cartman. "Ay! Screw you guys!" he said. "I wouldn't wanna ride it anyway if I had to share it with the filthy Jew!"
"Fuck you, fatass!" Kyle snapped at him.
"Okay, okay…why don't we just have a contest or something?" Stan proposed.
"What kinda contest?" Cartman asked curiously.
"Ooh, I know, let's have a stripping contest!" Kenny enthusiastically suggested.
"Eww, dude, no!" Stan quickly rejected the idea. "I was thinking more like…"
"A spelling contest?" Kyle asked.
"Oh, how about an eating contest? I would totally kick all of your asses at that," Cartman informed them.
Kyle rolled his eyes, deciding to just keep his remarks to himself this time.
"No, no, it has to be something that all of us are equally good at…" Stan said, rubbing his chin with his hand as he contemplated the possibilities.
The other boys did the same.
"Hey, I got it!" Kenny said excitedly. "Let's fucking wrestle!"
Stan and Kyle looked at each other and shrugged. "Okay, sure. You in, Cartman?" Stan asked him.
"Alright, fine, but I call wrestling Kyle!" Cartman said, eyeing Kyle with a vindictive grin.
"I guess I'll wrestle Kenny then," Stan assumed. "Winners wrestle each other."
"Deal," Kyle said.
"Okay, let's fucking do this!" Kenny shouted, expressing his determination. He unzipped his hood and ripped it off of his body, revealing a white t-shirt he was wearing underneath it. He tore off his brown gloves and threw them down next to his hood, which was now wrinkled up on the ground. He ruffled up his already messy blonde hair.
Stan took off his jacket as well, because apparently it was necessary to take off your clothes when you were about to wrestle someone, which Stan was previously unaware of. He also pulled off his poofball hat and tossed it beside his jacket.
Cartman and Kyle backed away to give the other two some more room. Stan couldn't help but suddenly feel scared as he looked at Kenny standing directly in front of him, fiercely staring him down.
"Just fucking go already!" Cartman hollered.
Kenny ran at full speed toward Stan, catching him completely off guard. He knocked Stan to the ground and, now lying on top of him, he tried to pin Stan down by grabbing onto his wrists.
But Stan was not about to give up THIS easily, because not only would that make him look like a total pussy, he just really wanted to win that bike. He broke free of Kenny's grasp and mimicked Kenny's move by tightly latching onto his wrists. He promptly elevated his head, struggling along the way as Kenny tried to hold him down. Finally, to Stan's surprise, he managed to pick himself up and push Kenny until he fell onto his back.
"One," Cartman said, crouching down to smack the ground. "Two," he said, repeating the action. "Three!" he finished at last.
Stan instantly let go of Kenny and got off of him, giving them both enough space to breathe. Kenny was panting loudly, his chest moving up and down.
"Damn, dude," Kyle said to himself quietly.
"Dude, are you okay, Kenny?" Stan asked as he held out his hand for him.
"Yeah…sure…" Kenny said in between his long breaths. He reached his arm out and took a hold of Stan's hand. Stan lifted him off of the ground, and their hands quickly released.
"Sorry, dude," Stan said.
"Don't worry about it," Kenny replied, brushing the dirt off of his body.
"Hey, quit being fags!" Cartman said, disgusted. "Let's go, Jew," he said, nudging Kyle.
They switched places with Stan and Kenny and began taking their hats off, followed by their jackets. Kyle stood perfectly still, narrowing his eyes at Cartman, concentrating on nothing but him. Cartman held up his fists, ready to attack the evil Jew.
"This is gonna get ugly fast," Kenny whispered to Stan, who nodded. "GO!" he shouted afterward.
Cartman and Kyle ran at one another so fast that they collided into each other, causing both of them to fall right to the ground.
"Ouch," Kenny said from the sidelines.
Kyle, noticing that Cartman was still on the ground, scrambled to his feet and pounced on him. Cartman groaned in agony as Kyle crushed him. He held Cartman down firmly, squeezing onto Cartman's arms.
"One," Kenny said, slapping the ground with his palm. "Two," he said, doing the same thing again. "Three."
Kyle grinned with personal satisfaction as he moved off of Cartman. "Yeah, take that, asshole," he said, giving Cartman a swift kick in the nuts.
"Goddamn Jew," he said as he coughed from the pain. "I fucking hate you."
"Well, who didn't see THAT coming?" Kenny asked sarcastically. "He got beat up by a fucking GIRL, for Christ's sake."
"Yeah, that was fucking awesome…" Stan said, remembering the time Wendy kicked Cartman's ass.
"Alright, dude, let's do this," Kyle said to Stan, fully motivated and ready to go.
"Yeah, that's right, now you two gotta fight…now THIS should be interesting," Kenny couldn't help but mention.
"Oh, yes, I can't WAIT to see this," Cartman, who had finally managed to pick himself up from the ground, concurred with Kenny.
Stan and Kyle stepped a few feet away from each other and got into their wrestling poses, which was essentially just bending their knees and leaning their bodies forward, so that they could each prepare themselves to charge at their opponent.
"Go already, Goddammit!" Cartman screamed.
The two best friends lunged toward one another at the exact same time, and they both began shoving each other forcefully in hopes that one of them would be able to tackle the other to the ground. This went on for a while as Stan and Kyle slid back and forth, for neither one was willing to give in.
The battle continued to grow more intense. Both Cartman and Kenny were so fixated on it that neither one noticed when Butters started approaching them from the opposite end of the vacant lot.
"Hey, fellas!" Butters greeted in his usual cheerful manner. "Jeez, what the heck is goin' on over here?"
"Butters?" Cartman said inquisitively as he turned to him. "Where the fuck did you come from?"
"I was just passin' by when I saw you fellas over here, so I figured I'd stop by to see what was goin' on," Butters said.
"Yeah, well, go away, Butters," Cartman said, waving him off. "Nobody wants you here."
"Wait, b-but, why are Stan and Kyle fightin' though?" Butters asked, gesturing toward the brawl that was still going on in front of them.
"They aren't fighting, you little gaywad, they're wrestling!" Cartman verified. "And whoever wins gets that bike over there." He pointed in the bike's direction.
"THAT bike?" Butters asked, pointing to it as well. "Well, gee whiz, that's MY bike."
Stan and Kyle, both hearing him say that, stopped pushing each other right away and looked at Butters.
"YOU'RE bike?" Cartman asked, sounding perplexed.
"Y-Yeah, my parents said they were gonna buy me a new bike, so I threw out my old one last week, but now they've been tellin' me that if I want a new bike, I have to work for it and buy it myself," Butters said, rubbing his knuckles together as he explained. "A-and, well, if I get a job and my grades start to slip, my parents will ground me, s-so…I was plannin' on coming here anyway to get my old bike back."
"Well…I guess if it's yours, it wouldn't be right for one of us to take it…" Kyle said, still trying to control his heavy breathing.
"Th-thanks, fellas!" Butters said happily as he walked over to his bike. He climbed on it and started to pedal away.
"Well that sucks," Stan said, watching Butters ride away on the bike.
"Yeah," Kyle agreed. "I would've totally won, too."
"What? No way, dude, I was so beating you!" Stan claimed.
"Dude, please, no offense but, I'm way stronger than you," Kyle affirmed.
"Oh yeah?" Stan asked, sensing that Kyle was challenging him.
"Yeah," Kyle replied simply.
"Well, well…there's only one way to find out," Kenny said.
"FIGHT!" Cartman screamed.
Stan and Kyle attacked each other once more, and as they did this, Butters was already on his way home, riding on the sidewalk.
"Suckers," he whispered to himself as he pedaled faster on his new bicycle.