Nonsense About Romance
Chapter 6: Dyslexia Is Not Funny
written by domolovesyou - illustrated by Noxicosis and SynnesaiKyle Broflovski omg Stan did the Cinnamon Challenge funniest shit ever omg
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- Kenny McCormick, Wendy Testaburger, Eric Cartman and 25 others like this.
Kenny McCormick stan you idiot omg
Kenny McCormick omg i’m laughing so hard
Kenny McCormick i think i’m going to die laughing
Kenny McCormick kEnNy DiEd LaUgHiNg (ThIs Is KaReN)
Eric Cartman do it agn!!!!!!!111
Token Black stan you pussy
Clyde Donovan token you couldnt do it either rmbr?
Token Black shut up clyde
Tweek Tweak GAH AHAHAHAHA gah! HAHAAH
Stan Marsh kyle you bastard you said you werent going to post on facebook
Kyle Broflovski SORRY I COULDN’T HELP IT LOL
Randy Marsh I want 2 try stan can u help me do it 2
Stan Marsh no dad go away
Eric Cartman stan u r such a idiot evn i wouldnt do this
Wendy Testaburger Cartman, while I agree that Stan is an idiot for doing this, you are more idiotic than him.
- Kyle Broflovski likes this comment.
Eric Cartman kyle gtfo
Stan Marsh guys stop liking this
Kyle Broflovski You have to admit that this is pretty funny :P
Stan Marsh yeah it is
Craig Tucker lol n∩n(.__.)n∩n
Token Black craig do u have to include the middle finger every time you comment on something
Craig Tucker no n∩n(.__.)n∩n
Butters Stotch what’s the cinnamon challenge?
“Loser,” Stan said as he came into Kyle’s room. He, like Kyle with Stan’s house, didn’t need to ring the doorbell to enter, and sometimes took advantage to visit him whenever he liked. He hadn’t been doing so recently, of course, because of with his nervousness of now liking him at all, but resisting the temptation could only last for so long.
“Wha—! Oh, it’s you,” said Kyle from checking his Facebook. “And I am not a loser.”
“You are.”
Stan peered over his shoulder to read the comment thread, and chuckled. “Oh, Butters,” he said. “Do you know how Kenny’s doing with him?”
“Do I want to know?” said Kyle, crinkling his nose. “Either it’s a completely hopeless case, or Kenny’s screwed him eight ways to Sunday by now. Literally.”
“Okay, imagining Kenny and Butters having sex is not a mental image I need,” said Stan, pushing himself off from leaning on Kyle’s swivel chair. “And you should get off Facebook.”
“Facebook’s fun! I still don’t see why you boycott it,” said Kyle, now going to the Tetris Battle game application and starting to play it. Farmville had gotten boring after a while and Yahtzee! was stupid, but Tetris was nice and old fashioned and always challenging. Kyle was on rank 50 right now.
And Stan liked to distract him to make him mess up, like he was doing now. “Oops,” he said, “accidentally” kicking Kyle’s chair and making him drop a Tetris piece, when he’d been planning on holding it.
“Hey! You did that on purpose!”
“Ooo, stop the presses,” said Stan sarcastically. “C’mon, get your ass off the computer. We should go do something more fun.”
“This is fun!”
Stan kicked his chair again and Kyle accidentally moved a piece a little farther to the left than he had planned. “Hey!” he said again. “You keep screwing me up!”
“Sorry,” said Stan teasingly.
In the end, Kyle did end up winning the round though still seemed pissed off that Stan had screwed him up. Stan rolled his eyes and got off Kyle’s bed as Kyle debated ragequitting, or kicking more asses so he could get to rank 51.
“You know what?” Stan said. “I really am sorry for making you mess up. And for your forgiveness, I’ll take you out and treat you to something good.”
“You’re making me sound like your girlfriend,” Kyle grumbled.
“With all this time we spend around each other, you may as well be!” said Stan cheerfully. He was very aware of the implications of what he had just said, but as long as he kept the tone not serious, then Kyle wouldn’t take it seriously. “Anyways, I came over in the first place to drag you out to the mall. Now I actually have an excuse to.”
“But I want to play Tetris Battle!”
“No, you want to get a life. Now get your ass off Facebook,” Stan dragged Kyle’s swivel chair away from the computer, “and go find a life at the mall.”
“You can’t make me!” Kyle jumped off his chair and leapt to his computer again, starting a new round of Tetris Battle. Letting out a sound of frustration, Stan yanked on Kyle’s jacket which he successfully took off, then his shirt, then his ushanka, releasing Kyle’s mess of dark orange hair, and even tugged Kyle’s shoes and socks off too.
“Don’t make me take your pants off,” he warned (though obviously, would have taken those off first if it wouldn’t rouse suspicion.)
“I have ten seconds left! I’m beating this bitch by five lines!” Kyle hollered. They may have heard Mrs. Broflovski scream at Kyle to not swear then, but didn’t pay any attention to her.
“And it’ll take me two seconds to pants you!” said Stan.
“No!”
Kyle moved around as Stan dived at the waistband of his jeans, and kept worming around until Stan finally caught him by a belt loop. Stan had only unbuttoned the top button, though, when Kyle leapt up and said, “Yes! I won! RANK 51, BITCHES!”
“You seriously need to get a life,” said Stan, letting him go and, amused, watched Kyle post his win on Facebook, with the comment, “LEVEL 51 FUCK YEAH.” His best friend needed to stop making love to Facebook so much.
“Oh, shut up,” said Kyle, finally tearing his gaze away from his computer and looking around his room. All of his clothes that Stan had pulled off were strewn around. “And what exactly were you hoping to accomplish by stripping me?” he asked.
“I was obviously trying to get into your pants.”
Stan didn’t notice Kyle’s cheeks redden, and Kyle didn’t notice that Stan had pointedly looked away when he said this. “Because if you’re naked, then you’d stop playing Tetris Battle to get your clothes back on?” he said, more seriously.
“Please,” scoffed Kyle, buttoning up his pants and picking up his jacket. “I wouldn’t stop playing Tetris Battle for the world.”
“Even if you needed to save my life?”
Kyle sat back on his chair and kicked Stan on his back on his bed. “Especially if I needed to save your life,” he said.
“You are so mean.”
At that moment, Ike appeared in the doorway, and said, “Hey, Kyle, Mom was wondering if—whoa, what is going on here?”
Stan and Kyle glanced at each other, and then took note of the positions they were in. Kyle was shirtless and standing up, about to put on his white tee back on. Stan was currently lying on his bed and holding Kyle’s hat hostage.
“I thought I heard some noises,” said Ike, “but I did not expect this.”
“Ike, it’s not what it looks like—”
“Save it, bro.” Ike put a hand up. “It’s okay if you want to have gay sex every now and then, but just warn me next time, okay? And keep the door closed, you wouldn’t want Mom catching you.” He left, and Stan and Kyle gaped at where he had been standing.
“How does it look like we just had sex?” said Kyle incredulously.
“I think it’s the whole you’re half-naked thing,” said Stan, flopping back down on the bed. “That might have been what implied it.”
“But still! That doesn’t make any sense!”
Kyle grabbed his jacket but didn’t button it, then turned to Stan and stuck out his hand.
“What?” said Stan, playing with his ushanka.
“Give me my hat.”
“Oh, but I like it,” said Stan. “Do I have to give it to you?”
Kyle kept his hand out. “Give it.”
“But I want to keep it.” Stan pouted. Kyle didn’t relent. “Hey, how about we trade hats today? You can wear mine and I’ll wear yours, and we’ll be Kan and, uh, Style! Yeah, that’s good. You be Kan and I’ll be Style.”
Kyle still had his hand out and didn’t seem to think the idea was as amusing as Stan did, so Stan finally sighed and put the green ushanka back in Kyle’s hand.
“Thank you,” said Kyle, patting it on so it fit around his head nicely. “And I don’t think your hat’s big enough to keep my hair down. It’ll just grow frizzier and then your hat will pop off.” Kyle’s hair was usually flat when he took it off because his hat kept it pat down so much, but during the times Stan would sleep over, in the mornings it would return to resembling the red poofball on Stan’s hat.
“I think it looks nice that way,” said Stan, because he did. It looked cute. “Though I like your hat, too.” He flipped the flaps of Kyle’s ushanka, and Kyle batted him away.
“Since when did you start saying gay stuff to me?” he said, only joking.
-synnesai-
“Since forever,” said Stan, also joking.
They left Kyle’s house, as Stan had wished, and to the mall, which they only had to walk to. (Really, they could walk to nearly anywhere in their town, except for their high school which was closer to North Park.) There wasn’t anything special about the mall, other than that it was a regular hang out place for most of them. It had been built back when they were in freshman year, after a bunch of crab people had randomly fallen from the sky and destroyed half the town. They built the mall while they were rebuilding the South Park community center.
They were coming out of Spencer’s after giggling at all the sex toys there (and inappropriately stuffing dildos in the tamer parts of the store) when they saw Cartman at FYE across from them, apparently looking through the pop music section. Which was weird because the only pop music Cartman liked was Lady Gaga.
“What’s he doing there?” Stan wondered aloud.
“Don’t know,” said Kyle, also staring at him. “Do you think we should ask?”
“Couldn’t hurt, could it? I mean, it’s not like it’s Hollister, it’s only FYE...”
They walked up to Cartman. He didn’t seem to notice them until Kyle said, “Hey, fatass, what are you doing here?”
“Be quiet, Jew, I’m looking for a CD,” was his only response.
Stan and Kyle glanced at each other. “What CD?” asked Stan.
“Some CD by a band called One Direction or some shit like that.” Cartman kept looking through the O section, sighing, and then looking through the CDs again.
“What the hell’s One Direction?” asked Kyle.
“Isn’t that the British boy band with the kids who won the X Factor or something?” said Stan. “Simon Cowell’s their manager, I think.”
Kyle looked at him with an are you serious you actually know this shit sort of expression, and even Cartman turned around to stare at him. Stan felt embarrassed.
“I don’t listen to them! Shelley’s obsessed with them!”
“Right, Stan,” said Cartman, going back to his rifling through the CDs. “And I’m a giant orange llama wearing Fidel Castro’s boots.”
“It’s true!” Stan insisted, but apparently Kyle and Cartman were not convinced of his non-fagginess.
“So, Cartman,” said Kyle, “why exactly are you looking for a CD by some gay British boy band that ‘Stan’s sister is obsessed with’?”
“Because, Kyle, unlike you I actually have a heart and soul and I was going to get a CD for W—”
And then he stopped. Kyle and Stan looked confused.
“For what?” said Kyle.
“Nothing,” said Cartman quickly, rifling through the CDs a bit faster.
“No, Cartman, tell me! What are you getting the CD for?”
“It’s none of your business, Jew!” said Cartman. “Jesus Christ, you can’t ever let people have what they want, can you? First you kill Jesus, then you caused 9/11, and now you’re demanding to know every little second of my life!”
“That’s because you actually don’t have a heart and soul and you could be plotting something evil! And I was not the one who killed Jesus and I already said I was sorry in sixth grade, and—”
“Let it go, dude, it’s not like it matters,” said Stan, resting a hand on Kyle’s shoulder as Kyle seethed. “Like, what could Cartman possibly do with a boy band CD anyways?”
“Thank you, Stan,” said Cartman, and then paused and considered Stan for a moment. “Hold on, can I talk to you privately for a moment?”
“Why do you want to talk to him privately?” asked Kyle.
“Keep your Jew nose out of this,” Cartman sneered, then turned to Stan again. “Can we go talk?”
Stan folded his arms. “Apologize to Kyle first.”
Cartman looked as if Stan had just asked him to leap across Mount Everest five times while carrying William Howard Taft’s bathtub on his back. “What?” he exclaimed.
“Apologize to Kyle.”
“But—”
“You were being an asshole and you know it.”
“But—”
“And remember what I told you about our promise?” Stan hated bringing it up in front of Kyle when Kyle was there, but Stan had to remind Cartman that he’d insulted the guy that he liked. Though he would have wanted Cartman to apologize even if he only liked Kyle in a platonic way, Cartman knowing his feelings about Kyle seemed to work as a tool on him.
Cartman grudgingly turned to Kyle, glanced up, but didn’t seem to be able to meet his eye. “S—” he started, and then tried again. “S— Sor— S—”
“Good enough,” said Stan.
Kyle looked awestruck. “How did you get him to do that?”
“Long story,” Stan replied. “Okay, Cartman, we can go talk privately now.”
“Tell me whatever he tells you!” Kyle called after him, and Stan nodded, knowing that if it had anything to do with his and Cartman’s deal, he wouldn’t.
“What is it?” he asked Cartman once they were out of earshot from Kyle.
“It’s about the girl I wanted to blow up Israel for.” Cartman fidgeted.
Stan nodded. “Yeah?”
“It’s the ho.”
“What—oh.”
Stan stared.
“You’re serious?”
“Yeah.”
“You really like Wendy?’
“Yeah.”
“Wendy?”
“Yes, goddammit!” said Cartman. “And then yesterday when I went to the bathroom to take a brown, I heard her talking to her friends going on about how much she loves some faggy band called One Direction except she doesn’t have any money and her parents won’t let her borrow so she can buy an album and she said she really wanted their album so I was going to buy one for her, and—” he broke off and sighed.
Stan gave him a look. “And you don’t have any money either?”
“I spent it all on my iPhone apps! Look, they’re all kickass.” Cartman took out his phone and waved it in Stan’s face.
“So you’re trying to get Wendy something that you obviously can’t buy, and that’s why you’ve been needing money,” said Stan.
“And I was hoping that I could borrow some from you.”
“What?”
“Pleeeeeeease?” said Cartman, kneeling down to a begging stance. “Please please please please please? I swear to god I’ll pay you back, Stan, I swear it—”
“You won’t,” said Stan, taking out his wallet. “But I’ll lend you the money anyways.”
“Yes! Oh Stan, I love you!” Cartman nearly took to crying as he hugged Stan for his generosity. “I love you Stan! I take back any moment I said that I hated you! I love you!”
“No, you don’t,” said Stan, but Cartman didn’t bother to listen; he kissed the twenty dollar bill and ran back to the pop CD O section to get the album he was going to buy for Wendy.
“What did he want?” Kyle asked as Stan walked back.
Stan shrugged. “Money.” It was pretty close to the truth. And he felt that he shouldn’t tell Kyle about Cartman liking Wendy because it still pertained to the exchange of Cartman not telling Kyle that Stan liked him.
“Oh, yeah.” Kyle rolled his eyes. “That’s predictable.”
They went back out without Cartman, who had gone over to the sales desk gleefully to buy the One Direction CD for Wendy, ignoring the odd look that the cashier was giving him. Stan and Kyle were getting hungry, so they wandered over to the food court and saw Butters, sitting by himself.
“Hiya fellas!” he said when Kyle and Stan walked over to him.
“What are you doing here, Butters?” Kyle asked.
“Oh, I’m—I’m just hangin’ out with Kenny. He went off to get us some drinks.” Butters gave them a cheerful grin.
Stan and Kyle exchanged a look of raised eyebrows. “Is he now?” said Kyle.
“Yep!” said Butters. “I-I didn’t really think Kenny paid a whole lotta attention to me before, but he said that he always did! Kinda funny that I didn’t notice till now, huh?”
“Yeah,” said Stan. “Real funny. Say Butters, you don’t mind hanging out with Kenny, do you?”
“What? Of course not! Kenny’s a really nice guy, I just thought he hung out with you two an’ Eric more,” said Butters. “But he’s really nice to me and he’s really funny and likes tickling me a lot!” He giggled, as if Kenny had just tickled him at that moment.
“Riiiight,” said Kyle. “Well that’s good, as long as you’re okay with it.”
Butters looked confused. “What do you mean?” but before Stan or Kyle could answer to possibly warn him about Kenny’s coming-ons, Kenny himself had come with two sodas in his hand, and a pile of napkins.
“Oh, hi guys,” he said to Stan and Kyle as he sat down. “You come here with Cartman?”
“No, we’re on a bro-date,” Stan joked. “Though we did see him earlier.”
“In FYE,” added Kyle. “Apparently he was buying a CD buy some boy band named One Direction. Can you believe that?”
“Oh, I listen to One Direction!” said Butters brightly. “Liam’s my favorite!”
Stan snorted. Kyle muttered to him, “At least he’s not in denial like you are.”
“I don’t listen to gay British boy bands!” Stan said defensively, but Kyle just said, “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” and Kenny watched their banter, amused.
“You guys don’t mind if we sit here with you, do you?” said Stan. “Unless,” he added, and raised a suggestive eyebrow to Kenny.
But Butters, who didn’t notice, said, “Sure, fellas, go ahead and sit with us!” Stan and Kyle took their seats; Kenny rolled his eyes but didn’t seem annoyed.
“I’ll go get the food,” Stan said to Kyle. “Chick-Fil-A, right?”
“With mustard,” said Kyle, and Stan nodded, though he probably would get it with mustard for Kyle even if he didn’t say anything.
As Stan started to walk off, Kenny considered something and then said, “Butters, go help Stan order.”
“Aw, I’m sure Stan will be able to order food by himself,” said Butters, eating his teriyaki chicken.
“He’s dyslexic.”
“Really? Oh gee, I better help him then!”
Butters ran off, and Kyle chuckled. “Having fun with him, are you?”
“Yeah, yeah, I am. I wanted to get you alone, too,” said Kenny. “Dude, are you ever going to tell Stan? I mean, seriously. He’s already treating you like a girlfriend, wanting to order and pay for your food and shit—you just have to tell him that you actually want to be his girlfriend and then voila, instant happiness for everyone!”
“Not for him, since I’m not a girl and he probably wants a girlfriend, not a boyfriend,” said Kyle pointedly. “And just because he’s paying for me doesn’t mean I’m like his girlfriend. Butters probably paid for your meal.”
“Yeah, but that’s because I’m poor.” Kenny pulled out his empty parka pockets to prove it. “Seriously, dude, do you see the way you moon over him? And have you seen how he moons over you too? I wouldn’t be surprised if he has the hots for you, actually, all you gotta do is confess and he will too—”
“I am not going to—” Kyle started, but was interrupted when Stan came back with a Chick-Fil-A tray without Butters and said, “There weren’t any chicken strips, so I got you a sandwich instead.”
“With the buttermilk ranch sauce. Thanks.” Kyle started on his sandwich as Stan drank his Coke.
“Stan, what did you do with my future boyfriend?” asked Kenny.
“Left him by the ordering menu. He was trying to convince me that I was dyslexic and couldn’t read, so I managed to convince him that he was dyslexic and that ‘chicken tenders’ actually read as ‘salads.’”
“Nice one,” said Kyle, chuckling, but Kenny glared at him and got up from the table.
“You shouldn’t take advantage of Butters like that, dude,” he said, before leaving to go bring Butters back.
Stan looked bewildered, but Kyle assured him, “Don’t worry about it, he did the same thing and got Butters to leave by telling him that you were dyslexic.”
“Oh,” said Stan, like it all made sense. “Okay. Why was he trying to get Butters to leave?”
Kyle bent his head down to take another bite of his sandwich and so that Stan wouldn’t see his reddened cheeks. “No reason.”