A/N Here it is: my first fanfic written for South Park. It does have abusive Creek, JUST so you know... don't yell at me for it... ;n; I'm not trying to imply that rape is good, because it's not. The chapters will be a variety of lengths. This is a shorter one. I've finished the story already, so I'll be getting chapters out at a steady rate of one a week. Apologies for any OOC-ness, but it's a tad necessary. It'll take a few chapters to get cranking, but once we're at about 8, things'll be moving along quite smoothly. Also, you'll notice that this is a sort of mutant story: half in "texting" format (here, specifically Gmail chat) and half in traditional. It's interesting, IMHO. We'll see what you think. And you'll review to tell me. Won't you? By the way, this was based on an RP between me and a friend (deviantArt's SouthParkDoodles), so credit for the storyline (as well as Craig and Tweek's online dialogue) goes to her.

Rated M for language, violence, and sexual content that isn't actually that bad

Disclaimer I don't own South Park or any associated characters, events, etc.


S.t.a.g.e 1. ([[{e.x.p.o.s.i.t.i.o.n}]])

4:08 pm

July 30th, 2011

South Park, Colorado

Hiiii

Craig Tucker scowled at the ridiculously stretched-out word on his computer screen. Who was bothering to try and chat with him now? He was due to be at Tweek Tweak's house in mere minutes for some odd sort of… what was it? A family birthday party? What kind of family celebrates its own birthday? Did they all have the same one? Maybe that would explain part of Tweek's twitchy oddness, if his whole family shared a single birthday. No, scratch that—it was all the fault of his intense overexposure to coffee.

Sighing with annoyance, Craig's eyes traced the bolded name in the blinking orange chat box. Bebe. Of course. She'd been pestering him near-constantly ever since he and Tweek had declared themselves a pair. Of course, Bebe had always stuck around with Tweek, but her overprotectiveness could be seriously annoying. He considered logging off just to avoid her, then checked the time. He'd have a moment to talk to her a while before heading over to the blonde boy's house. Shrugging internally, he typed in a quick response.

Me: Hello

Bebe: sup?

What was up? Tickling his guinea pig, Stripe, behind the soft pink ears, he replied one-handedly.

Me: Nothing really. Petting Stripe

Bebe: ah

Might as well turn the irritating question on her. But, at the very least, he could phrase the inquiry fully, instead of using that ridiculously stupid-looking "chatspeak."

Me: what are you up to?

Bebe: Chatting with a friend

I'm not your friend, he thought disgustedly, a moment before he realized that, quite possibly, she hadn't been stating the obvious and actually meant adifferent "friend."

Me: Who?

Bebe: as a matter of fact…

Me: What?

Bebe: A certain blonde spaz.

Tweek. Craig swallowed involuntarily and sat back from the computer, holding Stripe to his chest and rocking him gently, focusing on the fuzzy little lump of warmth rather than the haunting that the name released on his mind. Things between him and Tweek, his former best friend, hadn't exactly been going well lately. Well… not well at all, one could say.

Don't think that, he thought at himself angrily, nestling the guinea pig in his lap and leaning forward to type again. You're doing nothing wrong. If he wanted to report you, he would. But he won't. He's too weak.

Or too scared….

Me: You're talking with that dildo? Why, might I ask?

Bebe: shrug Why not?

Craig's eyes widened. Why not? What a stupid question. Feeling a bit better, he smirked slightly while dashing out a response.

Me: Because

He's kind of annoying

Bebe: hm…

He exchanged a few brief bits of entirely useless banter about whatnot with her, typing with his elbow while replacing Stripe in his cage. The little guinea pig squeaked with indignation as the door of painted metal bars clicked shut with some slight shuddering.

"Sorry," he whispered, his lips brushing against the thin bits of white-coated wire. Stripe's only response was to shuffle around a few wood shavings and take a piss.

Grinning faintly, Craig turned back to the screen. Not bothering to read the last thing Bebe had written, he posted his excuse and tapped Enter.

Me: I am due to Tweek's house for this weird Family Birthday Party. Gotta run. See ya.

Bebe: enjoy…

As he thought of Tweek, of his skinny, shivering body, unwillingly spiked blonde hair, and constantly wide, innocent eyes, the grin widened until his whole face was a part of it, cheeks stretched, teeth gleaming, eyes narrowed with sick anticipation.

Me: Oh, don't worry, I will :)

Her response to his layered vow was a small, winking green emoticon. She still thought of it as some sort of joke. She didn't realize how much it really hurt Tweek, mentally and physically, nor was she aware of how much it helped him, Craig… deciding to test her naïveté, he dropped one last, painfully heavy hint.

Me: I already know what I'm having for dessert…

Okay

Bye

Bebe: heh… bye

Shaking his head with exasperation, Craig snapped shut the laptop lid and turned on his heel, practically dashing out of the room.