Author's Note: I came up with this idea to re-write the same events from this fic, but in Cartman's point of view. As always, I hope you like it, and I'd love it if you'd leave a review once you're finished reading. Maybe you could tell me whose perspective you enjoyed reading more.
…Who the hell are you?
Well, fine, bitch, if you're not gonna tell me, I guess I'll just introduce myself then. Whateva, I do what I want!
The name's Eric Cartman, but most people just call me by my last name. I don't know why. They're all assholes for doing it.
I live in this crappy mountain town called South Park, and I absolutely hate it. It sucks. Trust me, if you lived here, you would know.
And that's about it. I don't feel like sharing anything else about myself. There's nothing else you need to know, anyway.
Oh, except that I'm awesome. I'm super awesome. You fucking wish you could be as awesome as me. But you can't, and therefore, you suck.
Don't feel bad, though. You're not the only one to be jealous of me for being so cool. I'm seriously, a lot of people hate me because of it. Stan, Kenny, Craig, Clyde, Token, Jimmy…
But no one and I mean no one hates me as much as this one kid… This no-good, sneaky, conniving, self-righteous, nosy, irritating, pesky fucking Jew rat…
I can't even begin to tell you how much I can't stand Kyle fucking Broflovski. He's just so annoying. He thinks he's fucking right about everything. He constantly tries to push his gay morals on everyone, especially me. And he's always telling people to 'do the right thing.'
I know, lame, right? Seriously, where's the fun in that? That's why I do whatever the hell I want all the time. I don't let anyone stop me, not even Kyle, no matter how many times he's tried before.
And, believe me, he's tried a lot. Like, for example, the time he tried to stop me from going along with one of my many brilliant plans that I came up with, which was pretending to be retarded so I could win $1,000 in the Special Olympics.
Or the time he tried to prevent me from getting the worst show in the world, Family Guy, off the air. And he fucking beat me, because despite all of my efforts, they aired the Goddamn 'offensive' episode after he gave the president of Fox one of his gay little speeches.
Then there was that time he tried so hard to weasel his way out of a bet we made over whether or not leprechauns were real. And I totally fucking won, but he still refused to follow through with his end of the deal. I wanted him to suck my balls, but he wouldn't fucking do it!
So I had to imagine him doing it…
Look, the point is, he's already gotten away with way too much shit in the past, but all of that is about to end tonight. 'Cause I have this awesome plan to totally humiliate him once and for all. I'm telling you, it's a pretty sweet plan, and there's no possible way it could go wrong.
Oh my God, I can't fucking wait to see how he's gonna react… Maybe he'll cry. Oh, please, God, make Kyle cry! I would seriously savor that moment forever.
But I can't think about that right now, because I gotta keep my focus on breaking into his house…
Not that it's hard for me or anything. I mean, I've broken into his house loads of times… More times than I can even remember.
Ay, fuck you, it does not make me a gay stalker! I just enjoy doing things to him while he's asleep.
Fuck, that didn't come out right.
Goddammit, you know what I meant! I like messing with him, all right? And anyway, it's mad fun to pull pranks on people. Come on, you know it is.
Now I can see his house straight ahead of me in plain view. I slyly turn my head to make sure that there's no one around behind me, and then I look forward again. The coast is clear. I dive from the bush I was just hiding in, landing on the grass in front of me without even making a sound. (Yeah, that's right. I'm like a fucking ninja. You wish you had my skills. Don't even try to deny it.)
I quickly scramble to my feet and tiptoe the rest of the way until I reach his back porch. Once I do, I peer through his window, pressing my hands and face against the glass. Fuck, I can't see him at all. I can barely make out the shape of his bed.
Oh well. Time to wake him up now. I love doing this.
I start knocking on his window, and it doesn't take long before I'm able to see his shadow getting up and drawing closer.
Yes. There he is. Look at him. He looks fucking exhausted. I wonder if he… Wait a minute, what's he doing? He's reaching his arm up… Shit, he's about to close the curtains, isn't he? Dammit!
I pound on the window with my fist even louder.
"Jesus fucking Christ, what?" he screams, looking at me with angry eyes.
"Let me in, Goddammit!" I command.
He'd better respect my authoritah. He'll only be making it worse for himself if he doesn't, because then I'm gonna be more pissed off, and I'll have to make him do something even more humiliating than what I already had in mind.
Well, I guess that wouldn't be too bad, actually…
He shakes his head vigorously back and forth. "Fuck no!" he shouts. "Go away, fatass!"
Well. There's no need to have a fucking attitude. I swear, he can be such a whiny little bitch at times.
Whatever. No big deal. I know exactly how to win him over anyway.
"Pleeeeeease?" I ask sweetly, clasping my hands together as if I'm praying.
He continues staring at me with that harsh look on his face, but after a few seconds, he rolls his eyes and starts to unlock the windows. I smirk. Wise decision, Kyle.
Not for him, obviously, but that's his own damn fault.
I take a step back as he pushes the windows open, and then I grab onto the edge with one hand, the other on his curtain. I pull one leg up and immediately feel myself shake a little bit. Whoa, steady now…
I try to keep holding myself up, but it's no use. My leg gives in, and I instantly collapse face-first into the floor.
Motherfucker! That hurt like a bitch! My head is fucking throbbing right now. I hope I didn't get a concussion or something…
I use every ounce of strength I have left to pull my head up from the ground. I glare directly at Kyle. Is that a fucking smile on his face? He's actually enjoying seeing me get hurt like this? That son of a bitch.
"You know," I begin to say as I help my own fucking self up from the ground. "You could've fucking helped me, Jew!"
Seriously. That would've been the fucking nice thing to do.
Not that I would've done anything if it were the other way around, but that's beside the point.
"You wouldn't have helped me, fatass! You would've just fucking laughed!" he yells.
That isn't true!
…All right, fine, maybe it is kinda true, but so fucking what? I'm not about to admit that to him, that's for sure.
I check myself to make sure that I don't have any massive bruises or anything, and while I'm doing that, I hear him ask, "Dude, why the fuck are you even here, fatass? I mean, it's…" He pauses to look at his clock. "…three fucking thirty! Jesus, what's so Goddamn important that you just had to wake me up at 3:30 in the fucking morning?"
Oh, so now he cares!
"I'm glad you asked, Kyle," I say with a devious grin on my face. I turn my back to him, cupping my hands behind me and walking away from that Goddamn window. I spin around to look at him again.
This is it. I carefully reach into my jacket pocket and pull out an old doughnut that I stuffed in there earlier right before I left my house. I hold it out in his direction, squishing it in between my fingers. "Do you recognize this, Kyle?" I ask. I doubt he does, but we'll see.
Dammit, some of the jelly is leaking out of it. What a fucking waste! The jelly is the best part. Everybody knows that.
"Dude, is that a jelly doughnut?" he finally asks.
Took him long enough.
"Yes, Jew, that's exactly what it is!" I shout out of frustration.
"Okay…" he says in a confused tone. "…and that's important because…"
Well, it's not necessarily important, but it is the first step to my amazing and well thought out plan.
"You don't remember, Kyle?" He shouldn't. That's the whole point: to catch him off guard. I love doing that to him. It's hella fun. "Well then, let me remind you about what happened exactly 37 days ago, on a Thursday, at 12:06 in the afternoon…"
I'll let you in on a little secret. I totally just made up all of that stuff I just said. It's all part of my plan. You'll see what I mean.
"It was during lunchtime, Kyle," I go on. "You were eating one of those gay kosher meals that your mom packed for you, while I was enjoying my awesome food that isn't meant for complete Jewish pussies, such as yourself."
Seriously, kosher? I'm so fucking glad that I'm not a Jew. I'm not even kidding, if I were a Jew, I would've killed myself a looooong time ago. I mean, for one thing, Jews can't eat pork, which makes them pussies.
"Anyway, Kyle, just when I was about to eat my delicious jelly doughnut, you decided it would be a good idea to pick it up with your filthy Jew hands and take a bite out of it. I'm sure you thought you were gonna get away with it, too!" I say accusingly. "Well, not this time, Kyle."
I got him now!
Aww, man, I can't really see the look on his face though… It's way too fucking dark in here.
"Yeah?" he asks. "And what exactly are you gonna do about it, fatass?"
Sweet. Here comes the fun part. I start to wander over to him. "Well, Jew, since you just had to take a bite out of it in the first place, I want you to finish it." I stop in front of his bed and extend the doughnut out to him. "Right now."
Can you imagine what'll happen to him after he eats it? He'll probably puke or something. That would be hilarious.
He swats the doughnut away. "So, let me get this straight," he says, scowling at me. "You found it necessary to wake me up in the middle of the fucking night…just so you could force me to eat an old, moldy doughnut?"
Well, when he puts it like that, it just sounds stupid…
But I shove the doughnut back at him anyway. "Just fucking eat it, Jew!" I bellow. Why does he always have to be so stubborn all the time?
He pushes my hand away again. "Why don't you eat it, you fat fuck!" he shouts at me like a little bitch.
"Ay, I'm not fat!" I say in my defense.
"Yes you are!" he says even louder and bitchier. "Dude, are you really that oblivious, Cartman? You can't honestly believe that you aren't fat. You're fucking blind if you do."
I'm not fat! I'm just big boned! Why doesn't anyone ever fucking listen to me when I try to explain it to them?
I know just how to respond to him, though…
"At least I'm not a Jew," I reply coldly.
I fucking hate Jews. They're greedy, they're evil, and you simply can't trust them at all. The fact that Kyle is a Jew only makes me hate him even more.
I see him bury his face in his hands. Holy shit, is he about to cry?
Nope, he's just sitting there. Dammit. I got all excited for nothing.
I quickly stuff the doughnut back into my pocket and place my hands on his bedpost. He lifts his head up, giving me another cruel look. I stare him down, too, my eyes narrowing into thin slits.
I wonder what the hell is going on in his head right now… Oh, God, I hope he isn't using his Jew voodoo magic to melt my fucking brain or something.
Screw you, I'm being fucking serious! You don't know what kind of powers Jews have! Especially Kyle…
"Dude, why do you always have to fight with me like this, Cartman? Do you have any idea how annoying it is?" he asks. "I mean, can't you think of anything better to do than to pick fights with me all the time?"
My body stiffens, and my mouth drops open a little bit. What kind of fucking question is that? Why does he even care, anyway?
But I'd better answer him before he starts getting suspicious or something…
"Because I like fighting with you, Jew," I whisper.
He cocks his head to the side and blinks. "Why?" he asks.
I dig my nails into the wood of his bedpost. God. DAMMIT. What's up with the annoying questions? Why the fuck should I have to explain my reasons?
But I suddenly find myself talking again before I can realize what the fuck I'm even saying. "'Cause, Kyle, you're just fucking fun to mess with!" I blurt out. "Way more fun than messing with Butters, that's for sure. He's too much of a pussy. He doesn't actually fight back, and that's way too fucking boring for me! I'm just so used to pissing you off all the time! I mean, if I didn't have you to fight with, I'd go fucking insane! That's why when you moved away to San Francisco that time, I-"
Holy SHIT! What the fuck is wrong with me? I can't tell him that! I've already been keeping it a secret from him for so fucking long. There's no way in hell I'm about to let it slip now.
I see his eyebrows go up. "You…you what?" he asks. The surprised tone in his voice is super obvious.
God, why does he have to make this so hard for me? Can't he ever just let things go?
I put a clenched hand to my mouth and cough into it. "Nothing. Don't worry about it," I say quickly as my eyes fall to the floor.
"No, fuck that. Tell me right now, fatass!" he whines.
"Just forget it, Jew!" I lash back, my gaze staying glued to the floor. I pray to God he'll just drop it already and finally shut the hell up.
"Just fucking tell me!" he cries out.
I look up at him. He looks even more pissed off than usual, but then again, I'm sure I do, too. I've never felt so fucking aggravated before in my whole life.
"Didn't you ever wonder how you and your Goddamn family managed to get out of that city alive when it was about to be fucking destroyed?" I ask harshly. "I'm disappointed in you, Kyle. I thought you would've figured it out by now. I mean, you are a smart, know-it-all Jew, aren't you?"
I hold back for a few seconds, thinking twice about whether or not I should even bother telling him anymore.
Fuck it. I'll say it. I'm not a pussy.
"It was because of me, asshole," I finish, making sure to say it with nothing but venom in my voice.
His eyes widen, and to say he looks shocked would be an understatement.
Yeah, that's right. I fucking saved his ass. Now, before you go off thinking I'm such a nice guy for doing it, I need to make something perfectly clear to you right off the bat. I did not - I can't emphasize this enough – do it because I missed him. I did it because I missed fighting with him. There's a difference. So shut the fuck up.
He leans back against his bed. "Well, I guess that makes us even then," he says casually.
What the fuck, man? He just found out that I saved his life, and that's all he has to say? And what does that even mean, anyway?
"The fuck are you talking about, Jew?" I ask, raising one of my eyebrows.
Seriously, I have no clue. Unless I'm forgetting something…
He smiles. Goddammit, I hate when he smirks like that. It means he's got some kinda wise ass comment to throw back at me.
"Don't you remember that time we all got trapped in that gay Cave of the Winds, fatass?" he asks. "And me and Stan thought you were fucking dying, when later we found out that you just ate fake fucking treasure? Yeah, I was the one who nearly died trying to save you! When it started flooding in there, we both would've drowned if it weren't for me!"
Fuck, I totally forgot about that… Still…
"Well, yeah, but that's nothing compared to what I went through to save you, Jew," I say with a shrug.
It's true! He knows it is.
"It's not a fucking contest, fatass!" he snaps at me.
Yes it is. And I won, Jew, but you just won't admit it.
He hates when I'm right. He really does. Seriously, I can think of maybe only two or three times when he's admitted to my face that I was right about something. And when he does actually have the balls to say it, it's like, the greatest fucking feeling in the world. Let me tell you, one of the best moments in my entire life was when he came to my porch in the pouring rain after he saw The Passion and admitted that I was right about Jews all along.
It was awesome. You should've seen him. He looked so… defeated.
Speaking of which, that's kinda how he looks right now…
"Anyway…" he sighs, but he doesn't say anything else after that.
He's still staring at me, but it's in a different way now. The look on his face is…softer.
It's sorta freaking me out, to be honest. I don't think I've ever seen him look at me like that before. I mean, I'm so used to him being pissed off. Come to think of it, he's pretty much pissed off all the time. Especially when he's talking to me…
"Thanks, Cartman," I hear him say in a really low voice.
…Thanks? Did he just say thanks? Is this a fucking joke or something? He's never said that to me before. Is he trying to mess with me? Because if he is, I swear I'll… Well…
I hope he's not.
"You're welcome," I mutter, feeling my face grow hot as I say it.
I really don't want to say these next words, but here it comes. "And…thank you, too, I guess…"
After I say that, I see him smile a little bit. It's a kind smile, though, and the fucked up thing about it is that I don't even think he's aware that he's smiling like that…
Huh. You know, I never noticed it before, but he has a pretty nice smile…
I freeze as I realize what I just thought. Fuck. What am I, a fag? (Don't you dare say yes.)
I swear to God, if you tell anybody I thought that, you're dead. Got it?
"Dude, listen," he suddenly says with a yawn, "I'm really fucking tired, so I think you'd better get going now."
"Oh," I respond. Well, that certainly snapped me out of my thoughts. Thank God. "Well, see, the thing is, Kyle, I would do that if I could, but I can't."
"…Why not?" he asks with a slight attitude.
Oh, God… He's gonna think I'm so fucking stupid for this…
"I sorta…accidentally…locked myself out of my house," I admit grudgingly.
He's gonna flip out any second now. I can feel it.
"So just break in," he says.
"I can't," I reply.
Now he's gonna flip out.
"Why the fuck not?" he asks impatiently.
Okay… He's almost about to explode…
"I don't know how," I answer.
"Dude, you break into my fucking house all the time!" he roars.
Ha, there it is. I love pushing him to the point where he just can't take it anymore and starts to lose it. It's funny to watch.
"But your house is super easy to break into, Jew," I say as if it's a fact. "Plus I've done it, like, 500 times…"
No, I haven't actually done it that many times, you fucking bitch!
He sighs again. "Fine. You can sleep on the floor," he offers.
I tap my chin, pondering that over. "How about…you sleep on the floor," I suggest, just to piss him off him even more.
"It's my fucking room, fatass!" he says angrily.
And his point is?
"Yes, but I'm the guest!" I mention to him. "You need to show some hospitality, Kyle."
He stares at me for another second or two, and then he plops down on his bed and says, "Just go to sleep."
I grumble under my breath. Fine, whatever. I'm fucking exhausted anyway. I walk over to the middle of his room and lie down on the cold, hard floor. Dammit, this sucks! Maybe I'll just…use my hat as a pillow or something. I pull it off and scrunch it up into a ball, tucking it under my head.
Meh, good enough, I guess…
I toss and turn, trying my best to find a comfortable spot, but it's hopeless. I open my eyes, and I can see the sun beginning to shine through the window, which is only making it even more impossible for me to fall asleep. Not only that, but I'm also freezing my ass off. This blows.
That's it, screw this.
I sit up, and then I use my sexy, awesome ninja skills to sneak across Kyle's room 'til I reach his bed. I hold my breath as I cautiously pick up his blanket in between my two fingers. I lift it up very slowly, and after giving myself enough room, I hop onto the bed and slide myself underneath the blanket, and once I do that, Kyle suddenly moves his arm closer to his body.
My heart stops.
Oh my God. Don't tell me he's waking up!
I stare at him for a couple more seconds, but he doesn't make any other movements. I breathe a small sigh of relief. That was fucking close.
Finally, I can relax now. After I comfortably settle in, I start to close my eyes.
This is much better. A nice, warm bed…
…with a nice, warm Jew.
Shit, I really hope he doesn't hit me when he wakes up.