Playin' the love game
By the Unlucky-charm
When you've been living in a town, secluded from civilisation since the younger years of your life, you don't grasp ideas the same way normal city kids do. As you bloom into your teenage years, you start to realise that your parents are, in fact, close minded hillbillies from the mountains and that you yourself are slowly becoming one as well. Of course, as the generations go, the concentration of 'hick' in their lifestyle decreases, but never disappears.
Then again, that's was South Park was: a small hick town in the Colorado mountains.
In South Park, no one took kindly to strangers, especially if you were from a different culture. To be able to live in South Park comfortably , you had to be white as trash, Christian (or claimed to be) and possess a hatred for everything else, including: Muslims, Canadians, gays and so on. So technically, any social group that wasn't your own, would be instantly out casted.
That's where he came in; Kenny McCormick, the poorest, dirtiest boy in town. His smartass of a friend , Kyle, would call him 'South Park's little exception'. Why? Because the young man could be qualified as a poor, bisexual, perverted, trashy, immortal man-whore and yet was still accepted by the townspeople. On the contrary, based on what he knew, he was on good terms with everybody.
As for the rest of the citizens, putting aside their own tastes and personalities, were all the same...or so it seemed. Kenny could tell, after having lived with those people for a long time, if one of them had a dirty little secret, a skeleton in the closet, or even if they themselves were in there...
In all honesty, it was all very obvious to Kenny's eyes and it would have been to any other person's, but everyone else remained oblivious, along with the subjects of observation themselves. It was so pathetically amusing that, Kenny had made a little game of it.
Since the most interesting things to do around town included porn and death, the young blonde needed a hobby to himself. He hadn't actually sat down and thought up a game with rules, it all just had happened on its own and went on, eventually taking the title of 'game'.
It began when Kenny, being the observant bastard he was, spotted a few patterns emerge in the behaviour of his friends. Then, when his curiosity reached its peak, he took action and did some research.
Now, 'research' wasn't really the right word to use. He wouldn't go into a person's personal things or records or anything like that. He used a more subtle technique. By asking carefully picked questions discretely to the right person, he could get his answers. Kenny remained sneaky and smooth during the process, not that he had much of a choice. He couldn't really walk up to Stan and go: "Are you madly in love with your best friend?". Poor guy would have probably shit his pants by hearing that one true fact out loud, a fact he would no doubt deny with every fibre in his being.
His eyes closed, lying in his bed, Kenny chuckled at the image of Stan's reaction. He attempted to open his eyes, which squinted at the sudden flash of light. He picked his phone up from the mass of dirty sheets it was tucked into and checked the time: he still had half an hour before school started, but he had been awake for more than an hour. It was around 6 o'clock when the sound of his father hurling in the bathroom shook him out of his dreamless sleep.
Today was Friday, which meant they started with history (aka nap time), followed by English, which was Garrison's class, meaning a whole hour of pop culture updates. After lunch they had math and then ended with science; the only class Kenny was looking forward to. Today, they were dissecting an eye!
Without wanting to get out of the sweet clutches of his bed yet, he reached for his jeans on the floor and pulled them on from under the sheets, wanting to conserve the warmth of his feet for as long as possible. Once his pants were on, he sighed at the ceiling and closed his eyes.
"1, 2 and 3!" He counted down before hopping out of bed. He checked himself in the mirror hanging on the back of his closed door. He ruffled his hair around, fixing the strands that disobeyed and fell on his face. It looked a little messy but was acceptable. A girl had once told him it looked hot so he didn't really mind. He tugged on his tight fitting, black wife-beater and pulled his orange jacket over it. This was his everyday routine; he wore the same clothes, sometimes varying between a grey tank or a white tank, his sweats or light blue jeans and his jacket.
Kenny dragged himself to the bathroom and his lit up as he entered. It was his lucky day: there was toothpaste! With a smile on his face, he brushed his teeth. He was probably the very first teenager to take that much joy in oral hygiene. He spit out the white mousse, smiling at how it looked a lot like another kind of white substance.
Happy that his breath smelled nice, he walked to the kitchen prayed for another miracle: breakfast.
The empty kitchen raised disappointment, but he really didn't have his hopes up that high in the first place. The blonde considered going back and eating the toothpaste, but then decided against it.
Slipping on his black high tops, grabbing his bag, he yelled a 'goodbye' to his mom and a 'feel better' to his dad and left for school.
He was met with the cold that crawled into his chest through the thin fabric, as if it was angry at him, the wind yelling against his bare chest. Kenny obeyed it and zipped up his parka. In the distance, he spotted Stan and Kyle standing at the bus stop.
"Gaydar: activate." He whispered to himself and picked up his pace.
When around his 2 best friends, he would make it a point to keep his eyes extra open. Even the slightest gesture from Stan's part could prove a whole lot. Kenny had tested him several times and he never failed to meet his 'expectations'. If Stan was trying to hide his feelings, it wasn't working one bit. Every time Kenny ever flirted with the Jew or made any kind of contact, Stan tensed up. At time, when bored, he would do it just for the fun of seeing his jock friend aggravated.
"Hey Ky!" He said cheerfully and appeared right in front of the redhead. "Check it out."
He hooked his index finger into Kyle's shirt and pulled his face uncomfortably close to his. With flirty eyes and an open mouth, he breathed hot air into his face.
When Kyle wrinkled his nose and looked away in disgust, Kenny used the opportunity to glance at the noirette.
Death glare, clenched fists, gritted teeth behind a tightly shut jaw= jealous and frustrated.
He would have to write that down in his notebook later. Yes, he had a notebook where he wrote all his observations down. It was really a sort of binder where each section was entitled after a different couple. The very first section was of Stan and Kyle because it was the easiest to figure out.
"Kenny! What the hell was that for!" Kyle yelled, losing his temper with ease.
"Did I have bad breath?" Kenny asked with fake innocence.
"N-no but-! Oh...no, it actually smelled minty... oh cool you got toothpaste?"
Kyle's tone went from 'punch you in the face' to 'I'm so excited for you'.
"Congrats dude." Stan said and patted him on the back, adding a little force, obviously as some form of revenge for having gotten too close to his Kyle.
"Was it a big tube?" Kyle went on, maintaining his same bouncy air, causing Stan's frown to relax and form into an adoring stare.
The thought of making the perverted joke with 'the big tube' crossed the blonde's mind, but the bus arrived and they stepped in, ignoring the shrill yells of the aged Mrs. Crabtree.
Since Mr and Mrs Marsh always sat together, Kenny would take the seat behind them, next to Butters. He would greet him with a smile and share his cheerio's he always had in a Ziploc. So Kenny never really minded.
"Hey Kenny, how are you?"
"Hey Buttercup, you ready for today?"
This little blonde was the only friend Kenny never had to test or take notes about. Butters was open about everything, especially with Kenny.
"O-oh, dear no. I don't think it's very nice to cut open the eye of a sweet little cow."
It was when he said things like that when Butters was at his cutest.
"The cow's already dead Buttercup, so it's okay isn't it?"
"I guess..." He pouted. "But it's still yucky,"
Kenny chuckled at his friend's innocence. With Butters, 'fuck' became 'fudge', the words 'mean person' were used to describe bitches and even 'gross' wasn't gross, it was yucky.
"It'll be fun, don't worry." He tried assure him. Truth was, the perverted blonde couldn't wait to cut through some flesh and guts to rip out a retina, but he didn't think it appropriate to tell Butters that.
"Were gonna be late again." The smaller blonde sighed, pulling his sleeve up to check his Hello Kitty watch.
"Sort of defeats the purpose of taking the school bus, huh?"
Mrs. Crabtree usually decides to sleep in on school mornings, so they all got to school right on time. They were dropped off and then forced to go to class. So, if you hadn't done the work for 1st period and you took the bus, you were in shit.
Today was even worse. They were actually LATE for school and the second the bus stopped in front of the school entrance, Kenny watched as everyone in the bus bolted out of the bus and into the school, not wanting to be late for their lessons, in Butters' case; history.
Despite being late for the same class, Kenny took his time and got to class a few minutes after everyone. Being the small group they were, absolutely everybody their age was in the same class. They never got to live that 'high school experience'. It was all just like elementary only harder. The only positive thing about it was that you were never separated from you friends when it came to classes and you never needed to tell them stories since they were there with you when it happened.
"You're late McCormick." Mr. Levithan said as Kenny entered the class without even knocking.
The blonde ignored the teacher and sat down at his place, not even bothering to pay attention. A minute hadn't even passed when he fell asleep on his desk and was woken up by the bell and hour later.
"Do you always sleep during history?" Kyle asked when they were putting their books into their lockers.
Kyle's tone was casual but Kenny could tell he was concerned.
"Yep! And I still pass!" Kenny said happily. "I don't really try that hard in school or pay attention, really"
At this, Stan snorted.
"Yeah you do. Sometimes I see you taking notes in your binder during class."
'damn, they've noticed...' Kenny thought to himself.
"True, but they're mostly doodles and stuff." He lied.
They continued walking to Garrison's classroom, with Kenny smiling. He was, once again, imagining Stan's reaction if he had told him something like: 'Yeah, I'm taking notes of how you stare at your best friend's ass and drool all over you desk when he's up at the board doing math problems'.
He let out a soft chuckle, unheard from his other two friends.
"Hey guys." The annoying, nerve wracking voice appeared from behind them. The owner of it matched their pace and walked with them.
"Hey fatass." Kyle said casually.
"Hey Jew." Cartman answered in the same tone. They were so used to it, a stranger would have thought they were using cute nicknames for each other (Kenny and Stan would assure them that, that was not the case, for sure).
"Token's inviting us to breakfast tomorrow morning. He's paying, you guys up for it?"
"I'm down." Kyle answered, Stan nodding along him.
"Sure." Kenny answered to nobody's surprise. For the record, it WAS considered free food and Kenny would never have turned down such an offer.
Breakfast with Token wasn't really 'new'. They would do it occasionally, just hang out at some fancy place with a really good buffet. Token was a God when it came to good taste, one of the very few people in South Park who had any (the others were his parents).
Garrison's class was one of Kenny's favourite classes . No, not because he cared so much about Justin Bieber's relationship with Selena Gomez, but because it was the perfect time to write in his notebook. He was in the last row, sitting right behind Kyle who sat right next to Stan, so that way he wouldn't miss any special moments. Every conversation, look or argument (which Kenny dismissed as lovers' spat) would be heard and registered by the sneaky blonde sitting behind them.
So there he was, sitting quietly in the classroom, alert and ready for the slightest move or exchange of words that would be worth writing down. And then, 20 minutes into class, it happened.
"Hey Ky?" Stan whispered.
If Kenny was a cat, his ears would have shot up right then.
"How do you spell 'decapitate'?" He asked naively.
The red head sighed. "D-E-C-A-P-I-T-A-T-E. Idiot."
"Hey! Shut up fag."Stan replied and gave his friend a gentle shove.
Kenny instantly took note of it. Stan was hiding it pretty well, but that uneasiness and awkwardness in his voice when saying 'fag' did not go unnoticed by Kenny.
When he called his best friend a fag, it could have been to cover up his own sexuality by using such a crude word. And the blonde was sure that that was not what Stan had meant. When a guy like Stan is 'in love' everything he says has a double meaning.
'Shut up fag' is actually a plea meaning: 'Oh God Ky, please be a fag with me!'
And that shove was obviously just an excuse to touch him, to be able to feel him without breaking the boundaries of friendship. Besides his inability to spell, Stan was a smart guy and knew how to not act purely on emotions.
The time passed with Stan throwing quick and short glances toward Kyle, his face a little reddened and his lower lip held captive by his teeth.
Could he really not take his eyes off the Jew? Was he THAT allured by him?
The answer to both those questions may be yes, but the reason why Stan was blushing, biting his lips and sweating nervously was because he had a total hard-on. That's right, Stan was aroused in class.
Cause: Kyle Broflovski.
'Tsk, tsk, tsk, dirty thoughts Stanley~' Kenny thought to himself.
Before saving the information into his binder, Kenny wanted to be sure of his hunches. He crumpled some tissues into his hand and got up to throw them out. Passing next to Stan, he slowly lowered his eyes to Stan's crotch.
Results: Stan had chosen the wrong day to wear skinny jeans.
The bell rang and the whole student body was off to the cafeteria for lunch. Lunch was a special time for Kenny where he could get lucky or just sit around hungry, depending on the moods of his piers. It was also a time of day that the blonde looked forward to; it was one the rare times where he could witness some Gregory and Christophe moments. The two almost never showed up for class (other than gym) and would only appear at the cafeteria for some food. They always had some large plans laid out on the table as they munched on organic and low fat crap. Nobody really knew what they were up to, but that wasn't what interested Kenny.
The fact was, neither of the two Europeans was ever associated with any female activity. It was always just to two of them, never anyone else. Well, except for this one time where they needed to hack into something and Kevin helped them, but other than that they were always alone together. Now, according to Kenny, that isolation was bound to create some sexual frustration.
"Kenny you want my fries?" Stan asked him and pushed the food towards him.
So, this WAS his lucky day and hopefully he'd spot some touchy-feely from the part of his objects of observation.
Christophe was examining some of the large blue papers on the table in front of him. He was wearing his usual tight black t-shirt and gloves. On his arm were over 4 nicotine patches and cigarette dangling from his mouth. What was the point of it? Nobody knows. His brown hair was messy as hell, complementing the dark circles under his dark eyes.
Gregory, on the other hand, was wearing a button down shirt, rolled up to his elbows and clean jeans. His blonde hair was gelled back with a few strands dangling over his forehead. He was chattering on cheerfully, obviously trying to get some attention from the Frenchman, who refused to allow him any. Gregory just rolled his eyes and sighed, giving up and stared at the plans with boredom.
Kenny's guess was that Christophe put his work (whatever it was) before anything and Gregory was fighting to take up first place in Chris's thoughts. The Brit has been losing that battle for a long time, but just kept on trying. Unlike his partner, he had the patience of a kindergarten teacher. But his patience had a limit, Kenny knew that one day, Gregory would snap and blow up all over Christophe and of course, he would be there to witness it all.
Closing away the conversation his friends were having beside him, he observed them attentively. Gregory's eyes seemed to have shifted from the plans to the nicotine patches on Christophe's arm. Not pulling his eyes away from the arm, he said something the Christophe who looked at his arm as well. Gregory frowned and Christophe stared at him like a child who had gotten into trouble. The blonde Brit plucked out the cigarette from his partner's mouth and shook his head at him. The brunette smiled apologetically, an old and tired smile, which made Greg smile back in return.
They were cute, that was a given. Kenny imagined them at their 'work' in a near death experience, where they confessed to each other just in case their lives were taken away from them, leaving no feelings unspoken. Sad part is, something like that could actually happen. Christophe was from Paris, wasn't that the city of love or something? Shouldn't he be all romantic and shit? No wonder Gregory was so charmed by him. Kenny wrote all this down.
"What are you writing in there Ken?" Kyle asked, startling him.
"Oh, um, just some work I have to catch up on."
After the break, math class started. The teacher put them into teams of two and expected them to do some work.
"Ugh, Kenny I don't get this." Butters whined.
"Butters, you're seriously asking ME? How the hell should I know?"
"You're a terrible partner." He complained.
"So are you."
A few seconds passed with both of them staring at the problem and then Kenny spontaneously shut the book and turned to the other blonde.
"So how's life?" He asked.
"Terrible." He said and held his face in his palm.
"Okay, okay what's wrong."
"The blonde preppy kid? What about him?"
"He came out of the closet the other day..."
"Well he suddenly seems, I don't know...sexier."
"Shut up Kenny! It's not like I can control my feelings!"
Butters shoved him hard, which barely made him move, being that it was Butters who was pushing.
"He just looks yummier than I remember." He continued.
"Okay, first of all, never say 'yummier' ever again. Second, maybe it's just the fact that he's available to you know that you feel you have to take a shot at it."
"So what should I do then?" He asked.
"Take a shot at it. Ask him out."
"I don't want to sound like some whore who just wants to get some."
God, there was really no pleasing this kid, Kenny complained in his head.
"You won't sound like a whore." He assured. "Just really, REALLY, horny."
After that, Butters really got angry. He ignored Kenny for the rest of the course, and instead, spent it staring at his 'beloved' Bradley. Seeing Butters watch a guy like that was actually very creepy. His facial expression didn't express love nor affection. There were only two things Kenny could make out when watching the scene: Butters and his prey. That's all there was to it. The blonde felt a sudden urge to hold the smaller boy in his arms just in case he suddenly pounced on Bradley and began eating him. So all the cute innocence that Kenny would see in his friend melted away, revealing the perverted monster he really was, which scared him. However others might have found it...yummier. Kenny kicked himself for having even thought of that word and got up to get to his final class.
Ten minutes into the break, the science teacher opened the door. Kenny sat in front of the lockers a bit further away.
"Should we go in?" Stan asked.
"Let's just wait for the bell." Kenny answered, not wanting to move from his spot just yet.
Suddenly, the ground began to shake and a heavy thumping noise got louder and louder. Cartman dashed passed them, headed towards the science lab, yelling about 'cutting up eyeballs'.
"I wouldn't do that If I were him." Kyle said.
They all watched as the large boy ran into the class, only to come out of it seconds later, crawling and coughing.
"What the FUCK is THAT!" He yelled, his eyes watering.
"You okay fatass?" Stan yelled back to him.
"It smells like SHIT in there!"
The bell rang and the rest of the boys went off to class, which apparently smelled like shit. Only this time, at the doorway, stood Mrs. Crowes, handing out hospital gloves and masks.
"I feel like a surgeon." Kyle said, his voice barely audible from behind the mask.
Now Kenny knew how it was like for his friends when they were kids and he wore that hood of his.
"Ugh, even with this thing on my face, I can still smell the guts." Stan complained, positioning his mask and pressing it harder to his mouth.
"It's not the eyes that smell, it's the chemical they were soaking in." The Jew explained. "It's called formaldehyde."
"Well this formalde-crap is disgusting."
The smell was strong and made everyone in class dizzy. After the teacher explained for what seemed to be this very long time, they all got to work. Science was the only class where all three of them were put into a team.
"Okay so what are we doing here?" Stan asked, rubbing his gloved hands together.
"Did you not hear a THING the teacher said?"
"We have to separate the different parts of the eye." Kenny said and poked the eye with his scalpel.
"What's the white squishy stuff on it?" Stan asked, wrinkling his nose.
"Fat." Kyle said. "We have to remove it."
The whole situation reminded Kenny of an operating room, only he was the cow's eye, Stan was the surgeon and Kyle was his sexy nurse.
"Okay, I got this." Stan began to cut out the fat, concentrating hard.
"Ew! I got some on my finger!" He complained and shook his hand in the airs, trying to get it off.
"It won't come off!" he continued.
Neither Kyle or Kenny could have predicted it, not could have thought that Stan was that stupid.
"Wholly fuck I'm bleeding!" Stan yelled and began to panic.
The idiot had tried to remove the piece of fat with his scalpel, cutting through the latex, his skin and deeper into the flesh.
"Goddamnit Stan!" Kyle yelled and lost all the color in his face.
The redhead removed his gloves and Stan's as well. Then he took his best friend's hand in his and began wiping off the blood.
"Should I call the teacher?"
"Um, no please don't, just help." Stan panicked, also becoming white.
Kyle stopped in his actions, grunted and looked at Stan.
"Then I'm going to have to disinfect it right away. Like, now."
"Will it burn?" Stan said, sounding like a little girl.
Kyle looked hesitant, and Kenny suddenly had an idea of what was going to happen.
"Not sure." He said and gulped. He then brought up Stan's hand to his mouth slowly.
He licked the gash gently. Stanley whimpered, not really in pain, and blushed. His eyes widened and then closed. He was probably fighting the urge to rape the Jew and Kenny would have done the same if he were in his shoes.
But this bothered Kenny.
Kyle had no idea of Stan's feelings and here he was, creating false hope in the noirette's mind. Kenny wanted to yell out, wanted to say something, but knew he couldn't. He had no right to be mad at Kyle's actions, because they were unintentional. He was leading Stan on blindly. What Kyle didn't know, was that it was those small favours and gestures he did, which over the years had gotten him the number one position in Stan's priorities
Kenny was suddenly wishing he had his notebook.