I'm Wendy Cartman. I'm nineteen years old and three and a half months pregnant. I live with my husband, Eric (or, as you may know him, Cartman); my best friend, Bebe; and her boyfriend, Kenny. We live in an off campus apartment on the bad side of town. It's not a huge deal since we all grew up in South Park, where there isn't even really a bad side of town because everything is equally shitty. I'm not taking classes right now, because Eric fancies himself a controlling prick, but everyone else is. Bebe is studying interior design. Cartman and Kenny are studying to be a lawyer and doctor, respectively. I was planning on becoming an editor. I guess I still can someday, after this baby comes. Until then, however, I'm going to write this book. So that you, the masses, can read and enjoy.
I was asleep when Eric and Kenny left for classes this morning. I usually am. I was a very driven morning person before this pregnancy. Bebe and I have the apartment to ourselves from 7 to 9 every weekday morning, and I usually sleep through all of this. I woke up a little earlier than usual this morning.
"Hey, Bebe," I greeted, glancing in her direction. When we got to high school, Bebe got into an artistic phase. She's a bit of a hippy. Not a hippy like Eric things I am, a real hippy. She can pull it off though because she's beautiful. Anyway, she always wears interesting clothes that she usually makes herself. Bebe uses anything cheap that she can get her hands on, iron-ons, beads, feathers. This morning she had on an electric blue t-shirt with beads sewn everywhere. Her blonde curls were pulled into a bun atop her head.
"Hey! You're up early, sleeping beauty." She smiled at me.
"I know," I groaned. "The shower woke me. Usually it doesn't."
Bebe wrinkled her nose in thought. "That is kind of weird. You've been sleeping like the dead lately. It's a good thing though, I guess, because you can hear the Spawn of Cartman crying." Bebe never referred to my baby as anything other than "The Spawn of Cartman". I wondered if she thought I'd actually name it that. She had some issues dealing with my relationship with Eric. It was a surprise when I dumped Stan Marsh for him, but she was mostly over it. Especially because we had a theory Stan was gay.
"I wish you'd be nice to the baby," I murmured for the thousandth time, running a hand over my barely visible baby bump.
My friend frowned. "You said you'd give me as much time as I wanted to get over the whole 'I'm in love with Eric Cartman' thing. This is a coping technique." She skipped over to the table with a bowl of cereal.
"Well, you have 5 months to be done coping. I don't want my baby to be a serial killer because you called it 'spawn'."
After breakfast, Bebe headed to class, leaving me alone. I turned on the TV and watched a cooking show. Eric doesn't know how to cook. And I'm about 95% sure he will never be tempted to learn. He's not quite as spoiled and mean as when we were kids, but some things never change. Basically, I'll be cooking for the duration of our marriage.
Eric comes home around noon to change his books and eat lunch. He brings his friends with and they make me feed them. Normally, I would so not comply. But my life is sadly very dull and I have nothing better to do. Usually, I don't make them anything special because for boys, food is food. As long as there is lots of it, they're good. Today, though, I was kind of in the mood to impress them (or at least impress Butters, he'd appreciate something nice).
I started cooking around 11. I put spinach on 6 paper plates and then crumbled blue cheese on top of that. I added pecans and then peeled, and sliced, pears. I topped it off with vinaigrette. When I was done, I ate mine. Being pregnant makes me so hungry all the time. I put the salads on the table with placemats that Bebe had decorated. I also left a bunch of other food out on the counter, since I knew Eric would whine about a little salad not being enough food. Kenny probably would too. I heard the guys pounding up the stairs. I sat down on the couch with a magazine.
The front door flew open and Eric, Kenny, Stan, Kyle, and Butters ran in. They crowded around the table, eager to see what I'd made for them.
"This looks good, Wends." Stan noted. Stan was studying environmental science. Secretly, I thought this was kind of a joke. What does someone do with a degree in that?
"W-would it be alright if we ate it?" Butters questioned from his typical position at Stan's side. The two had become strangely close in the last couple months.
"Duh, fuckface. This is seriously awesome, Wendy," Kenny commented with a full mouth. His salad was already halfway gone. Kenny ate more or less anything that was set in front of him; Eric was a little pickier than that.
I didn't hear a single word from any of them as they ate for five minutes. When they were done, they rinsed their plates and placed them in the sink before joining me on the couch to watch TV. Eric sat down next to me. The couch held five people, but it was a tight fit. A minor fist fight ensued between Stan, Kenny, and Kyle, during which Butters pulled a chair over from the table. It was kind of sad that he expected to lose…but at least he was being realistic. In the end, Stan won the fight, I think, but it didn't matter anyway.
"Dude. That guy with the gun was fucking scary," Kyle commented.
"You saw a guy with a gun?" I didn't like making a big deal out of such things, since I usually pretended like I was perfectly fine living on the bad side of town. Eric and Kenny were already stressed about enough things; I didn't want to make it seem like we needed a better apartment.
"Yeah, outside the building," Eric replied. "Don't worry, babe. I could've taken him if he had tried anything."
The boys all erupted into laughter and I raised my hand to my mouth so Eric wouldn't notice that I was struggling to hold my own in. "Sure you could, fat ass," Kenny scoffed.
"Shut your goddamn mouth, poor boy." This is probably a good spot for the Eric Explanation. He's not that fat anymore. Big, sure. Eric Cartman would not be Eric Cartman if he wasn't large. But it really is more on the "buff" side of things now and he is impressively tall. Only Stan is taller than Eric. He's still mean most of the time, but not all that often to me. And loud and obnoxious. But, for whatever reason, I love him. It's kind of hard to understand, believe me, I know.
"Hey," I started, breaking up a potential fight that would probably happen later anyway, "let's just be thankful no one got shot."
Kenny flipped up the hood of his sweatshirt. "Not that it would've mattered," he mumbled.
"Kenny, stop being such an emo pussy. That's Stan's job," Kyle replied. Over the years, the intelligent, redheaded Jew had become really, really attractive, to top it all off. He knew it though and since he was pretentious enough before, it was almost painful to be around Kyle on occasion. He was kind of a womanizer, except a bisexual one. Who usually swung for the gay team, especially when he was drunk, which he was quite often.
"Please, Wendy, he wouldn't have just capped some random kids," Eric replied, blatantly staring at my boobs. It was a new pastime of his, since my being pregnant had made them bigger (moving up from near non-existence prior).
"You're a pig," I told him.
The guys broke into laughter. "You're supposed to be at least a little fucking discreet, fat ass," Kyle laughed.
"Glancing was created for a reason," Kenny added.
Eric raised an eyebrow at his friends as his face turned red. "Ay! Stop glancing or whatever the fuck you do at my girl's awesome rack! Got it, r-tards?"
Stan, Kyle, and Kenny quieted down quickly. "Bebe's is nicer anyway," Kenny muttered into his hood.
"Can you all kindly shut up?" I asked, wriggling myself out of the couch. I was quickly replaced with Butters, who is smaller than me nowadays. Lovely.
The door opened. Bebe was back from her classes for the day. Thank the fucking Lord. I ran over to my blonde friend. "Hi!"
Bebe shot me a glare and headed towards the bedroom that she shared with Kenny. Eric and Kenny looked at me over their shoulders, obviously telling me to solve this problem, so I followed her in. "What's the matter?" I asked.
She looked at me, her chocolate colored eyes filling with tears. "None of my pieces made it in to the art show," Bebe cried.
I sat down next to her on the bed and she rested her head on my shoulder. "That's alright, honey. The people picking the pieces obviously have no taste. Your stuff is beautiful; it's just different. We can hang it here. All over the fucking walls if you want."
A watery giggle escaped Bebe's lips, before she caught herself. She lay down on the bed, turning on the small TV and flipping through channels. "My work was different from the others, I suppose."
I heard some of the guys leave. "I'm going to go sit with Eric for a little bit. You know how he gets when no one pays attention to him," I smiled.
Bebe nodded and I passed by Kenny on my way back to the couch. I guessed he was going to spend some time with Bebe before heading back to class. As in, they were going to have a quickie. Or Kenny was going to suggest it. "Thanks, Wends," he said.
I craned my neck in order to glance up at Kenny. He was a good guy, despite the overpowering sex drive. He made Bebe happy and that was enough for me. "Sure, Kenny."
"What was Bebe having her period about?" Eric asked from the kitchen where he was working his way through a bag of chips.
I shook my head disapprovingly, which earned me the finger. "She didn't make the art show." I walked over to the mattress on the floor where Eric and I slept. For some reason, Bebe and Kenny got the bedroom, even though Eric and I lived here first. It had something to do with Kenny needing somewhere to wake up after dying or something completely ridiculous like that.
"What a whiny bitch. Hey, are you going back to sleep?" Eric looked slightly concerned, which was a feat for him. He only ever looked remotely concerned when it had to do with me or food.
"Maybe, my back hurts," I answered. I closed my eyes.
When I woke up from my nap, no one was home. I looked at the clock; it was 7. Eric didn't come back from his afternoon classes until 8. Bebe and Kenny had probably gone out to dinner or to the bar. I laid back down and fell asleep again. The second time I got up, I was greeted by blaring emo kid music. "Jesus Christ, turn this off, please!" I moaned. I opened my eyes to find about 20 people in the room.
"Oh, hey, babe. You're up," Eric said, walking towards the mattress.
"So it would appear," I replied. I walked into the bathroom to find Kyle and some guy making out. I couldn't tell if Kyle was drunk, but the other guy definitely was. There weren't that many gay guys in the area, but apparently if you're drunk enough, Kyle starts to look pretty feminine. Kyle liked his guys drunk. I headed over to Bebe and Kenny's bathroom instead; the door was shut so I knocked, no wanting to interrupt anything.
"Just a second!" Bebe's voice called. She opened the door wearing Kenny's orange zip-up. Kenny was in boxers.
I rolled my eyes at the pair. "Classy. And, isn't it a little early?" I let myself into the master bathroom.
"Not really," Kenny replied. "You slept through half the party. It was pretty awesome; you totally missed out. Butters is fucking plastered." He laughed, but I could tell he was kind of mad at me for barging in. They have sex more than Eric and I, which is why they got the bedroom. But, it is still my house, so I should get to use their bathroom whenever my little heart desires, I think.
Before walking out of the room, to leave my friends to have drunk sex all night long, I glanced at the clock. Midnight! No wonder I was absolutely starving. I dug through our fridge for a few seconds before slamming it closed with frustration. "Eric! You ate all the goddamn food, asshole!" I yelled.
"Tough love, ho," he joked, sending a bag of chips my direction. I caught them and sat at the table with a pout. Eric came up behind me and rubbed my shoulders. "Wendy, come lay down with me. Please?"
Truthfully, everyone knew that Eric Cartman's begging was nearly impossible to resist, but I usually tried to put up a fight. "I'm eating," I snapped.
"Baby, come eat in bed." He placed a kiss against my neck. I sighed, pushing myself up from the table and following him over to our mattress.
"Can we turn this awful music off first? Who decided this was even music?"
"It's Stan's. Fucking emo pussy." Eric said this as if it explained everything. It kind of did. Stan had embraced the inner emo kid that had always been inside him. Eric went over to our shitty stereo and changed the music to something a little more manageable.
Eric pulled me up against his back once we'd laid down. "Bebe called the baby 'Spawn of Cartman' again this morning. Maybe if we pick a name, she'll stop?" I suggested, rubbing my cheek against Eric's arm.
"I'm not in a rush," he murmured into my ear. "I'd like to have some time left with just my girl before the little monster takes over our lives."
Eric was so charming. Excuse my sarcasm.
"Wends!" Stan called. I sighed and removed myself from Eric's grasp. Stan was the most high-strung out of everyone, surprisingly. It happened sometime after Kyle decided he was going to be a huge slut. Stan felt like he needed to take care of everyone since Kyle didn't anymore. Butters was the most mother hen-like, but he tended to get smashed at every party we went to. "Butters spilled beer on the rug."
I sighed again and got up to grab the stain remover. Butters was an interesting drunk. He was clingy and he usually cried and he acted slutty and he always spilled things. It was like every drunk stereotype rolled up into one tiny little flamer. After cleaning the spill, I wandered back to my bed. Eric had been replaced by two randoms more or less having sex with their clothes on. I walked around looking for Eric. The door to Bebe and Kenny's room was open so I went in. A few seconds later, Kenny came in. He had a spill down the front of his shirt.
"Butters is having a meltdown," he said, gesturing to the spill. "He through a cup of beer at me."
"Where's Bebe?" I asked.
"Trying to get some people to leave. There are people here that none of us fucking recognize."
I nodded. "There are people dry humping on my bed."
Kenny grinned slightly at my choice of words. "I'll take care of that for ya, Wends," he said.
Soon after Kenny left, Eric arrived. "You're staying in here," he told me. "There are some major fucking sketchballs and I don't want them near you. Kenny, Bebe, Stan, the Jew, and I are trying to get them to leave. Butters is passed out on the couch. I'll come back for you later." Eric shut and locked the door and I curled up in the center of Bebe and Kenny's bed. I tried not to think about how many times they'd had sex in this very spot. If I was going to be locked in here, I could at least get some sleep on a real bed for once.
When I woke up for the 3rd time that night, Eric was moving me to our mattress. "Sorry, babe. I tried not to wake you."
"It's OK," I muttered, snuggling into his chest. "Where are Be and Kenny?" The party had been cleared out and the apartment was silent.
"They took Butters home since the Jew left with some guy and Butters decided he was pissed at Stan. They'll back be soon," he replied. Eric climbed onto the mattress beside me and I fell asleep yet again.
A/N: Yes, this is very similar to one of my KND fics. But, I think it helps me work on characterization. Although, I fear it might be kinda OC. Older Cartman is always kind of hard to write. Who knows if he'll actually become a nice person or not?
I wrote this so that I could get over the disappointment that was the new South Park episode. Puke. And also because I'm having writer's block with everything else. I hope you liked it!