In a series of mixed feelings, Kyle's future occupations were available by the bunch with his prestige and academic achievements throughout all of high school, and later, university. With a lot of careful consideration and the lack of desire to take up his father's law firm, however, the eldest Broflovski child made his decision to take up perhaps the most insensitive but well-paying job he could think of.
Not particularly vexed about the condition of his corvette as he drove up the dusty road to the farmhouse in the most rural parts of the outskirts of South Park, adjusting his pink tinted sunglasses as he stepped with leisure out of his car and made his way to the front door of the house.
He took in a casual notation of his surroundings, acknowledging the location as he clicked his file folder open and reviewed the draft for the person inside as he knocked on the wooden door, ignoring the chipped paint. He frowned at the lack of answer, adjusting the collar of the fitted suit he was wearing carefully before wandering toward the barn instead, peering in and spotting his victim inside.
"Ah, mister McCormick. How nice to see you," his business voice on, the redhead flipped a few curls tagged back neatly in two clips against his right temple and strolled up to the blond calmly, pulling the photocopied forms from their folder.
"It seems that you still aren't paying those taxes, and so I'm here to inform you of your final warning before we seize belongings to compensate. I'm here personally because you appear to have cut off your phone lines, so it seems. So this is the last notice before we evict you."
He flipped through the files calmly a moment before offering Kenny a winning smile. Kyle was entirely aware that it was Kenny McCormick standing before him, but not an ounce of pity slid past his business-like demeanour. A relationship they'd carried in high school ending in Kenny tooling him of over a thousand dollars in savings from bank card theft and fraud had ended both their steady-goings and their friendship as well. He was pleased to see the blond rolling around in mud and straw where he belonged.
Kenny, however, had it pretty good for a kid who had grown up in poverty; sure, the old farmhouse was a piece of work and was a death trap no matter where you walked, and sure, the roof of the barn was falling in, and sure, Ken was making most of his money off the marijuana plants that were growing in the middle of the corn field on his property, but it was sure as hell better than living in a shack and getting molested by his father every five seconds. At least he was eating.
The man was shovelling a pile of hay as Kyle approached, making room for his bony and half-dead horse so the damn thing would have at least something to eat. Dressed in a wife beater and a pair of ragged cutoff jeans along with a pair of pink Converse All Stars he had swiped from some guy he had fucked, the blonde was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, a day or two's worth of stubble speckling his face. He looked like a man living alone on a farm should; utterly uncaring about appearance. But there were still those raw good looks that had made him a favourite of the ladies in high school and had hooked him the redhead currently standing in the barn.
Kenny straightened up at the sound of the all-too-familiar voice, turning and looking at the redhead before smirking rather nastily, grabbing the other's hair and dragging him forward a little bit. "Well fuck me sideways and call me a bitch, if it isn't Kyle fuckin' Broflovski. I was almost sure you had gotten outta this fuckin' hick town."
He offered a predatory smirked, shaking his head and running his tongue over his lips. "I'm gonna tell you right now, man, I ain't gonna move out no matter what you threaten me with. You're no better than a fuckin' pig in my mind. And you know what else, Kyle?"
The redneck twisted his hand, immediately slamming Kyle up against the poorly painted wall of the barn, pinning him there. "I ain't gonna put up with your fuckin' shit. You got me in jail, you little whore, just for some money. Guess Cartman was always right about fuckin' Jews. So I'm just gonna take from you what you took from me. Who're you fuckin' now? Craig? Tweek? Token? Or are you finally sleepin' with Stan? Imagine headin' back home and havin' to explain to our super best friend what I did to you."
Kyle stared Kenny down dully with disinterest to his words, taking the time to look at his polished watch a moment as he was held back against the wall before adjusting his shoulders and calmly peeling Kenny's hands away from his body with the majority of his strength.
"Look, Kenny. You stole over a thousand dollars from me. When we were seventeen. Meaning, essentially, all of my money that I had saved personally for school. And for what? Drugs," he crinkled his noise with a curt smile and patted the side of Kenny's rough face before brushing himself off and licking his lips.
"What I'm doing with myself now is about as much of your business as what you're doing with yourself. Which is nothing. Not only I do I not care, but I never asked for you to not pay your bills, nor did I ask what you're spending your money on, because we're well aware you're making it, Kenny."
Taking a moment to walk a few steps away, he shifted his shoulder uncomfortably, unbelieving to Kenny's threats but still weary even so. "I always knew you were a bit selfish, but you stole from me when I put all of my trust in you, and now that you're a criminal as well, I want nothing to do with you."
He pegged his blackberry with his thumb in order to tell Stan that things were going terribly. The accountant replied for details and he relayed the stitch in a nutshell before stuffing his phone back into his inner breast pocket and staring at the scraggly excuse for a man ahead of him.
"This is my job. I can't help what I'm doing to you at the moment. So you can stop being an anarchist in the underbrush and get a job and pay off the money you owe, or you can lose your house and all of your belongings. It's your choice," he muttered, patting the horse on the muzzle before turning his back wistfully and attempting to make a retreat toward the barn's entrance.
"Holy fuckin' hell. You gotta be kiddin' me. What the fuck happened to you, man?" Kenny eyed the other man distastefully, making a face as he watched the guy he had once been desperately in love with. This wasn't Kyle in the slightest. Kenny grabbed Kyle's hand as the other made to leave, twisting him around again and slamming him against the wall for the second time. He just stared, looking at the redhead as if searching for clues as to why the other was such a... well, a dick. He saw nothing physically that indicated this except for maybe the pink sunglasses, but that made him look more gay than like a douchebag.
Kenny kept him pinned; he easily outweighed Kyle and had a couple inches on him. There was no way the redhead was breaking away this time. "If gettin' a job turns me into a douchebag like you, I'd rather live on the goddamn streets. You're like a fuckin' robot or somethin'. Goddamn disgustin', people like you."
The blonde dug his fingers into Kyle's shoulder, leaning forward and looking over the other man with disdain. "So you found out I'm sellin' weed. Whoop-de-fuckin'-doo. Took you what, one look at Google Earth? Fuckin' asshole. You know the fantastic think about livin' all the way out here, Ky? No matter what you do, no one's gonna hear you ever. We're about a mile away from the nearest neighbour. Neat, ain't it? I can do whatever the fuck I want with you and no one's gonna know. Now why don't you drop your phone on the ground, Kyle, so we can talk this out like adults without you callin' your boyfriend for backup."
If there was something that Kyle had never abandoned from his childhood, it was the stone cold attitude that he was giving Kenny from his place against the wall as the other male spoke to him. Feeling his teeth twitch together as his anger began to override his business face, he let his expression sink away from it's previous sunny composure and instead evaporate into a nasty scowl.
"Kenny. A job doesn't make someone a dick. You stole from me. You broke my trust. You took drugs and cigarettes over my love for you, and now I hate you, and I have every right," he relayed through gritted teeth. "Living out in the woods like a hobbit was your decision. Everyone else is riding out life fine with their jobs, including Craig, and Stan, and Cartman, and everyone else. Guess what? We all get along just fine. If you stopped playing camp kill yourself and crawled out of your hole and cleaned up a bit, you would understand, and you would come to realize that the only one being a total dick is you."
He made a slight attempt to wiggle free, finding no use in his actions. His own insight on life left him slender and curved as Stan liked it, and he was regretting it no more than he was right then, being that under his layers of fury he was starting to panic. Feeling his pulse escalate slightly, he let his bottle greens flicker for a chance of any escape, finding none and then returning to stare Kenny back down with as much dryness as possible.
"If you do this, you're going to regret it. You know you will and I know you will. So drop this now and let me go. I'll send another associate to come next time if you can't handle being this close to me," he shot at him with empty humour, leaning his head back and shifting his shoulders. There was no way...
Kenny laughed, a dry, unamused sound that held no humour whatsoever. He moved his hand a little so the heel of his palm was digging into Kyle's collarbone, licking his lips as he watched the other. He knew the redhead, and the slight flicker of panic in Kyle's eyes was enough to tell Kenny that he was freaking the other man out. And that was good. That was great. That's what he set out to do and he was accomplishing his goal quickly enough. As Kyle finished speaking, Kenny just smirked, shaking his head. "You honest to god think that I'm gonna regret rapin' the guy who put me in jail? Jeez, you're fuckin' stupid. I don't love you anymore. Hell, it's hard to tell if I even loved you in the first place; you were such a bitch to me. Maybe I was just stupid. Whatever it was, I ain't in love with you. If you think that I'm gonna go easy on you because we used to be friends, then you're stupider than I figured."
Kenny yanked open Kyle's jacket, pulling out the Blackberry and chucking it across the barn, the thing breaking against the far wall. Scratching idly at his stubble, Kenny looked over the man in front of him and drove his fist upward, breaking the redhead's nose in one fluid movement and shoving him to his knees. "We can either play this game my way and you can cooperate or there's the old cistern I can lock you up in. You can starve to death in there or play along now. What's it gonna be, asshole?"
Kyle could taste blood in his mouth instantly. Shit.
Shit shit shit.
He grappled with his nose, stars still flashing behind his eyes as pain temporarily blinded him, one hand gripping the rough straw beneath his palm. This was not good. Not at all. Pulling his legs up slightly he felt his heart only pounding faster as his vision slide back into focus on the chalky canvas of Kenny's shoes.
He staggered upward slowly, using the barn wall to stabilize himself before turning to stare at Kenny, opening his mouth to speak.
And then he ran.
The redhead sprinted out of the barn with the speed of a cheetah on fire; being lithe did have some upsides to living as he tore across the lawn with his rush of adrenaline pumping through him in full. Not only did the fucking little ginger run, he ran like a fucking Kenyan, taking off across the lawn like the devil himself was at his heels. Kenny stared in shocked silence as his prey got away before his eyes flicked to the rusty but trustworthy pickup truck sitting on the front lawn.
Not wasting time with the stupid door as he vaulted over the door to the convertible, Kyle shakily wasted no time slamming his keys into the ignition and slamming his foot down to the floor of the car, sending the corvette speeding down the dusty road at full speed.
Kenny ran, wrenching open the door to the truck and taking off, dust flying up from under the tires as he sped after the convertible. Kenny felt like he was on heroin, the intensity of what was going on running through his veins like a full dose of some good old-fashioned smack.
Holy fuck. The little bitch actually ran.
The redneck tore off down the road, pushing the piece of shit pickup to his limits; his one advantage was that this was an off-road vehicle and the convertible most certainly was not. Ken drew level with Kyle's car and clipped the nose of the expensive corvette, taking it out and flipping it over in a ditch. He slid to a halt, the pickup skidding a little on the dirt and sending up a spray of gravel, but the truck stayed upright and Kenny slid out of the door, walking over to the upside down convertible and dragging his victim out.
He hefted Kyle into a fireman's carry, starting to walk back towards the house with the unconscious redhead in his arms, panting but feeling accomplished. Once there he chucked the redhead onto the beat up sofa, waiting for him to wake the fuck back up so they could have a little 'discussion'.