Author's Note: So, believe it or not, I actually came up with the idea for this fic literally over two years ago. I just never wrote it until now, haha. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I had writing it! :)
Disclaimer: South Park © Matt 'n Trey
"Order in the court, assholes!" Cartman shouted at the top of his lungs as he obnoxiously banged a wooden gavel against the table sitting in front of him.
All the other kids that were sitting around in his basement for the trial immediately clamped their eyes shut and threw their hands over their ears.
"Dude, Cartman, stop!" Stan begged over Cartman's incessant banging. "That's so fucking loud!"
Cartman grinned evilly and abruptly ceased the hammering, and as everyone began to sigh in relief and remove their hands from their ears, he brought the gavel back down and struck it hard against the table one last time, just to be a dick, before he finally set it down on the table. He cleared his throat.
"Okay then," he said as he reached up to adjust the tiny—not to mention fake—glasses that were perched upon his face. "Court is now in session."
He looked up at the Defendant, who already looked bored out of his mind and somewhat annoyed, and then he looked over at the Plaintiff, who looked like a little gaywad, as usual, as he rubbed his two fists together and nervously glanced around the room.
Cartman folded his hands on top of the table.
"Mr. Leopold Stotch," he said in an overly dramatic voice. "Please tell the courtroom why the hell you're here."
Butters finally stopped rubbing his knuckles together as he began to speak.
"W-Well, uh, I'm here today, Eric, becau—"
"Ah, ah, ah," Cartman interrupted him, holding up a hand to shut him up. "In my courtroom, Mr. Stotch, you will refer to me only as Your Royal Highness."
"Oh," Butters said, his eyes bulging at the realization. He cleared his throat and began again. "Well, Your Royal High—"
"Objection!" Kyle, better known as the filthy Jewrat, suddenly interrupted, pounding his fist against the table as he rose from his seat. "Dude, it's Your Honor, not Your Royal Highness, you stupid fatass!"
"Ey!" Cartman shouted, pointing the gavel at him. "There will be no disrespect in my courtroom, you hear me, Kyle? Now shut you goddamn Jew mouth, you stupid kike!"
"Dude!" Stan exclaimed in horror. "Don't call my client a stupid kike!"
"Fuck off, hippie," Cartman spat. "I'm the judge, so what I say goes, all right? Do you all understand me? One more wrong move from any of you and my trusty bailiff will kindly throw your asses out!"
Everyone suddenly looked over at Token, who was standing in the corner, wearing a fake gold badge on his shirt that Kenny had so graciously loaned to him. It had the words FBI: Federal Boobie Inspector written on it. Token arched an eyebrow and looked up at Cartman.
"Why do I have to be the bailiff again?" he asked.
"'Cause, Token, I already explained this to you, the black guy is always the bailiff! I mean, duh, you stupid retard!" Cartman scoffed.
"But why couldn't someone else be the bailiff?" Token whined. "I'd rather be a lawyer!"
"Hey, hey, the lawyer positions are already filled!" Clyde snapped. He glanced over at Butters and slapped him on the back. "Don't worry, man, we got this."
"This game sucks," Token griped, stubbornly folding his arms over his chest. "I'd rather be at home playing with myself right now."
"I agree," Craig said from the opposite corner of the room, where he sat along with Kenny, Jimmy, Timmy, Tweek and Kevin Stoley, making up the jury members.
"Yeah, I told you guys we should've played Star Wars instead!" Kevin Stoley exclaimed like the faggy little nerd that he was.
"Everyone shut the fuck up!" Cartman shouted, banging his gavel against the table again, causing everyone to either jump or visibly cringe from the sound. "Now, then…as I was saying before I was so rudely fucking interrupted…please proceed, Mr. Stotch."
"Oh, uh, all right then, Your Royal Highness," Butters said. "As I was sayin' before, I'm here today because…well, because I'm suin' Kyle Broflovski over there."
"And why, may I ask, are you suing Mr. Broflovski?" Cartman asked.
Butters' eyes widened slightly, and he looked over at Clyde, who gave him a simple nod, encouraging him to go on. Butters let out a sigh and looked back up at Cartman.
"Well, I'm suin' him for…well, for sexual harassment, Your Royal Highness," Butters finally said, to which several of the boys' eyes widened. Stan looked over at Kyle, who simply closed his eyes and shook his head to himself, already disgusted.
"Hmm," Cartman said, his chair creaking as he leaned back in it and rubbed his fat chin in his hand. "Interesting. Why don't you tell the court what happened."
"Oh, all right then," Butters said. "Well, it happened last Tuesday, durin' recess time. See, I was just sittin' by myself on the playground, playing with some twigs…"
"Loo, loo, loo, I got some twigs. Loo, loo, loo, you got some too!"
I-I was just mindin' my own business, all happy playin' by my my lonesome with my twigs, when all of a sudden…
"Hey, Butters. Nice twigs you got there."
I look up and see my good pal, Kyle Broflovski.
"Oh, uh, hey there, Kyle!" I said, tryin' to be friendly and such. "You wanna play twigs with me? I'm gonna build a castle!"
But Kyle didn't say nothin'. He just looked at me all funny-like. It made me feel kinda uneasy, and I-I started gettin' kinda nervous.
"Say, uh, Kyle, why are you lookin' at me like that?" I asked him, tryin' not to sound too worried.
And Kyle, well, he just, he sorta just smiled all evil-lookin', and the next thing I knew, he was pullin' down his pants, and—
"OBJECTION!" Kyle shouted, making everyone jump from his whiny, Jew-ratty voice.
"Quiet, Kihl!" Cartman shouted back. "It's not your turn to speak!"
"No, dude, seriously, that's fucking disgusting," Kyle said, now directing his attention at Butters. "If you're gonna completely make shit up like that then at least make it something that sounds believable."
Cartman sighed heavily.
"Okay," he said. "Mr. Stotch, would you be so kind as to please re-tell your story to the court?" Then he added under his breath, "Even though some people should just learn to calm down and not get their vaginas all in a fucking twist."
"I heard that!" Kyle yelled.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever, you stupid Jew," Cartman said dismissively. "Butters?"
"Yeah?" the homo blonde asked.
Cartman grit his teeth.
"Tell us what happened already, asshole! We don't have all day here!"
"Uh, Your Honor, if I may?" Clyde suddenly intervened. He was actually wearing a fucking tie, the loser. Seriously, some people took these games way too seriously.
Cartman reached up and adjusted the powdered wig that he'd stolen from his mom's closet. He rested his chin(s) in his hands and sighed again.
"Fine, Clyde," he said in a deadpan voice. "Please tell the court what you witnessed last Tuesday at recess."
Clyde cleared his throat and turned to face the jury, who at that point were all pretty much doing their own things: Tweek kept twitching while drinking out of a coffee mug, Kenny ogled a Playboy, Craig just sat there, being an emotionless asshole…
"Well," Clyde began in his super annoying nasally voice, "it actually started around lunch time…"
I was waiting in line to get some steak and tater tots, when all of a sudden a swarm of bitches surrounded me.
"Ooh, Clyde. You're so hot," one of 'em said.
"I know," I said.
"Will you go out with me, Clyde?"
"Maybe. Now stand aside, whores, I gotta go get some food."
Then, just as I picked up a tray of shitty cafeteria food, I looked ahead of the line to see Kyle and Butters in some kind of squabble. I couldn't hear much, but what I saw was so…so, uh…horrific. Yeah. It was some horrific shit. I saw Kyle, getting ready to take off his pants—
"OBJECTION!" Kyle shouted.
"Overruled, you filthy Jew!" Cartman shouted back. "Go on, Clyde."
"Oh, uh, right," Clyde said, continuing…
Basically the end of it was that I saw Kyle flash Butters his wiener and then Butters ran off screaming like a girl. The end.
Everyone stared at Clyde incredulously, aside from Kyle, who had now slammed his head against the table.
"Very nice, Clyde, very nice," Cartman said, impressed. "Is there anything you'd like to add to that, Butters?"
"Uh, well, Your Royal Highness," Butters said, "I sure didn't appreciate Kyle showin' me his wiener, that's for sure."
"Of course, of course," Cartman said in total understanding. "Now, Mr. Stotch, how big…or should I say small would you say Kyle's wiener is?"
"Oh my GOD!" Kyle screamed, lifting his head from the table. "Dude, are you fucking kidding me?"
"Hey, hey, HEY! One more outburst outta you and my bailiff will throw you out!" Cartman warned. "I'm seriously, Kyle!"
"I don't fucking care! This is the gayest game we've ever played! It's not even how a real trial works!"
"Well of course you would know that, Jew!" Cartman said, rolling his eyes, because seriously, that was such a Jew thing to say.
"He's right you know, dude," Stan said out of nowhere, and Kyle's eyes widened as he gave his best friend an are-you-fucking-kidding-me look. "I'm just saying, you should've been the one pretending to be the lawyer, not me."
"No!" Kyle said firmly. "I wasn't gonna feed into Cartman's stupid fucking stereotypes like that!"
"All right, all right, order in the mother fucking court!" Cartman said, pounding the gavel. "Well, Jew, since you clearly have so much to say, why don't you tell the court your side of the story?"
"What story?" Kyle scoffed. "Everyone's just making shit up!"
"Can I tell a story then?" Stan asked.
"Dude!" Kyle shrieked like a little Jew bitch. "What the hell? Whose side are you on, anyway?"
"Well, dude, I mean…it's pretty obvious we're gonna lose this case either way," Stan said with a shrug. "Might as well make up a good story to argue it. Don't worry, I'll make you look good."
Kyle just stared at him blankly for a long ass time before he finally lowered his eyebrows and sighed.
"Fine," he groaned.
"All right, Marsh," Cartman said, leaning back in his seat so he could prop his feet up on the desk. "Let's hear what you got."
"Uh…okay…I guess…it actually started while we were all in class…"
Mr. Garrison was teaching us about some totally pointless bullshit that's completely irrelevant to everything in the world, but he was still trying to pass it off as something super important.
"So you see, children, once Snooki gives birth to her little spawn of Satan guido child, clothing stores will be forced to manufacture more and more expensive baby guido clothing, consisting of douche bag t-shirts and tight ripped jeans and fake gold jewelry, which will in turn cause a rapid incline in that particular market, thus throwing off the entire stock market in general, which will then bring our economy into a sharp decline, and eventually lead to an apocalypse by the end of the year, thus destroying the human race that we once knew and loved. Any questions?"
And like thirty hands shot up.
"Okay then, no questions. Now everyone just sit in your desks and shut up until the bell rings."
So everyone started talking, and Mr. Garrison just sat at his desk and pulled out some shitty erotic book called Fifty Shades of Grey that my mom was also reading but I had caught my dad reading it once and jerking off to it in the bathroom.
Anyway, I was gonna take a nap, because I had nothing fucking better to do, but then suddenly I saw Butters get out of his seat and walk over to Kyle. I watched all confused as Butters stared at Kyle for a long time without even saying a goddamn thing, until Kyle finally noticed him and immediately looked pissed.
"What?" he said, and then Butters gestured for him to come closer, so he did, and then the next thing I saw was Butters grabbing Kyle's face and pulling him down and kissing him on the lips, and everyone just sort of gasped as Kyle tried to pull away but Butters wouldn't fucking let go, and when he finally did Kyle was all panting and out of breath and staring shocked, and Butters just shyly walked away.
So…yeah. Point of the story is that it was totally Butters' fault, not Kyle's. The end.
"…What?" Stan said, looking at Kyle, who merely shook his head in disappointment.
"Well, geez, that ain't true!" Butters said, frowning.
"All right, I think we've all heard enough," Cartman said. "Let's finish this case so I can fucking eat. Now, jury members, have you reached a verdict?"
"Uhhh…sure," Craig said, shrugging.
"Well?" Cartman prompted, and Jimmy rose from his seat then.
"We find the Defendant, Kyle Broflovski…g-g-guil…guiiiil…g-guilty of…of…s-s-sexual harassment."
Clyde grinned while Kyle just rolled his eyes.
"Kewl," Cartman said, nodding. "I order the Defendant to pay the Plaintiff…sixty million dollars for emotionally scarring the shit out of him." He pounded the gavel to seal his decision. "Court dismissed. Now everyone get the hell out!"
As everyone started leaving Cartman's basement, Kyle promised himself that he would never play a stupid game like this ever again.
Author's Note: Wow, I hadn't written a South Park fic in so long. I'd forgotten how much fun it was. XD What'd you think? Obviously it was completely ridiculous, but sometimes you just need that, you know? Haha.