Rating: T for their dirty, dirty mouths.
This was inspired heavily by the youtube video Stan X Kyle [Crazy Possessive]
You can find the video at this link, it's worth a look.
http: /www .youtube. com/watch?v=1GPqb7XF4X8&feature =BFp&list=FLsg0rzthI7Ys&index=3
(Remove the spaces)
If you watch the video or know the song, I think you know how shit is going down.
Disclaimer: I don't own South Park, or the song Crazy Possessive, or the fantastic video that you should go comment on, rate, and favorite.
End of author's note
Beginning of story
It all started with football, specifically, the first game of the year. Stan was on the team as quarterback, so even though Cartman was on the team too (still as fat as ever) Kyle went to support his boyfriend.
He knew that slapping teammates on the butt, while kind of stupid, was a football tradition. However, Kyle didn't like how Cartman did it to Stan repeatedly, even if he had been across the field. He had a nagging suspicion that it was another of Cartman's plans to mess with his head, but since he very well couldn't walk onto the field and throw a hissy fit, he let it go.
The cows lost badly to the other team, but that didn't stop Stan and Kyle from going out to celebrate. They went to Shakey's and got halfway through their meal before he showed up.
"Guys! Hey guys! Isn't this a coincidence, seeing you here? I mean, of all the places to be, we all showed up here- move over, wouldn't you, Kahl? Thank you." Kyle felt a twinge of annoyance at Cartman's barging in, but not enough to yell at him-yet. Stan looked slightly uncomfortable.
"Um, Cartman, don't you think-"
"-that I should get some food? No, it's alright, I can share with you guys! I mean, unless Jew doesn't want to…" Kyle narrowed his eyes.
"You know what Cartman? I kind of don't."
"Fine, be a greedy Jew then. I'll just share with Stan." The way the obese boy said his boyfriend's name made Kyle's skin crawl.
"Listen here fatboy…"
"I know, don't belittle your people…you're like a broken record! Don't you agree, Stan?" Cartman waited until Stan had reached down to grab a fry before doing the same, making their hands touch.
"Um…I'm going to go to the restroom." Stan stood and power-walked (some would say 'ran the hell') away from the table.
"What the fuck is wrong with you, Fatass?" Kyle demanded as soon as Stan was out of earshot.
"What ever do you mean?"
"You're hitting on my boyfriend." Kyle stressed the last word as if Cartman hadn't known and needed to be clued in.
"Ay! I'm not a faggot! You shut up!" He sounded convincing enough, but in his eyes there was a small glimmer of humor.
"Whatever, just remember, if you do hit on Stan, I'll have to maim you."
"Ha! Like you could! You'd probably just have Stan and Kenny do it for you!" Kyle scowled. Ever since puberty, his manliness had become an issue. Because while Kyle wasn't weak, Stan was stronger. While Kyle wasn't feminine, Stan was more masculine. While Kyle was in basketball, Stan was in football (the ~manlier~ sport) The only thing Kyle had going for him was the fact that he was way taller than Stan, and even that just highlighted the fact that he was so thin.
He could rant on that for an hour or two, but Cartman started talking again.
"Get the sand out of your vagina, I'm not going to steal your boyfriend." Somehow, during Kyle's internal quandary, Cartman had moved across the booth without the redhead noticing. He started eating Stan's food, and Kyle just sat and glared until Stan returned. He was a little confused at the new seating arrangement, but tentatively squeezed in next to Cartman in the booth. Due to the first boy's enormous girth, and the second's muscle mass, it was a tight fit. Sensing the obvious tension, Stan tried to ease it a little.
"So…the game…" He tried. Cartman grunted, and Kyle raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
"What about it?"
"Well, we lost…" For possibly the first time ever, the brunette and the redhead agreed on giving the short boy a 'no shit' stare. "I think it was number 96's fault. Did you see him? He was like three times Cartman's size, and twice as tall as I am!" Cartman burst into fake laughter, throwing his arm around Stan's shoulders.
"When you're right, you're right, dude." Kyle's nostrils flared as he saw Cartman's eyes flick his way to make sure he saw.
"Cartman, can I talk to you outside?" Kyle's voice made it a question, but his face and the death grip on the other boy's arm made it an order.
"Sure thing Kahl! I'll see you in a minute Stan." Kyle dragged him through the restaurant, before letting go once they were outside.
"You're hitting on Stan. I told you not to." Cartman rolled his eyes.
"Stop being such a crazy Jew bitch." Kyle growled.
"I'll show you crazy!" And he attacked. At first Cartman was able to block the assault, but he eventually got slower and slower, until he was helpless to the abuse. "If you touch him again…If you even think about touching him again, I will personally deliver your sorry ass to Satan's front doorstep. Do you understand me?" Kyle didn't wait for an answer as he left the bleeding boy on the pavement. "I'm glad we had this conversation."
Kyle wiped his hands off on his jeans as he returned to the table.
"Sorry about that dude, Cartman won't be joining us again." Stan looked relieved.
"For real? I think he's on PMS or something." Kyle shook his head.
"Nah, he was flirting with you."
"Sick! Ugh, that's disgusting!"
"I know dude, I know."
"I mean, at least Kenny's attractive!"
"Yeah! Wait-what the hell?"
"I'm just saying, you're lucky that Kenny was hitting on you instead of…" He shuddered. "…Cartman."
"Kenny was hitting on me?" Stan blinked, then suddenly became very interested in his drink.
"Well…he was…" Kyle's eyes lit up in realization.
"That's why he died yesterday! I thought he got knifed in an alley!" Stan snorted.
"He did. I made sure of that."
End of story
Beginning of author's note
I'm not asking you to like the story, but if you decide to give me a review because you don't like it, I would appreciate it if you didn't do it by involving 'frkkin rtrdd' in the context. Because that's just ASKING to be brought down a peg, and I'm non-confrontational.
I think I used italics too much.