Nonsense About Romance
Chapter 7: Hello Kitty and Brown
written by domolovesyou - illustrated by Noxicosis and SynnesaiKenny’s house wasn’t exactly the ideal place to hang out, so after he and Butters had hung spent more time together over the week, he ended up going home with him. Fortunately, Mr. and Mrs. Stotch didn’t seem to suspect any ulterior motives of Kenny, even though he was sure that his reputation as being a slut had gone around to the adults too. Then again, it wasn’t like the adults in their town really cared about the teenagers’ lives.
He would have invited Butters over to his house if conditions were different, but they weren’t and his mom and dad could often be found brawling around this time of night. His parents loved each other, Kenny and his siblings knew, they just had emotional issues when they were drunk. When they were sober and/or hung-over (there were the rare times when they were sober and not hung-over), they were perfectly friendly to one another and pretty much everyone else in the whole world. But, you know, they were Kenny’s parents, and as Kenny’s parents, it was almost expected for them to drink all the time.
“Sorry for intruding,” said Kenny as he took off his shoes and stepped into Butters’s room.
Butters didn’t seem to mind at all. “It’s fine!” he said happily. “I’m happy you wanted to come to my house!” Kenny had been the one to suggest it today in school, after all, accompanied with the words, “If my house wasn’t a shithole, I’d invite you there instead.”
“Yeah, well, any house is better than my house. Just kidding,” Kenny added when he saw the worried look on Butters’s face.
“Y-You sure about that?” said Butters. “I don’t know much about your family or nothin’, Ken, but if you ever need a place to stay—”
“It’s cool,” said Kenny, though wishing he hadn’t said that the moment he did. It would actually be pretty fun staying over at Butters’s house. It was sort of like babysitting, except the baby was your age and you sort of lusted fo him. Then Kenny felt like a pedophile using the babysitter analogy, so he quickly waved it away.
“So whaddya wanna do?” asked Butters, looking around his room. “I have, um, Hello Kitty Adventure on my computer! A-And I Spy! Or we could play a board game, or cards or somethin’! Sorry I don’t have cool video games like Stan an’ Kyle do, my parents say they’re bad for me.” Butters looked apologetic at this.
“Oh, don’t worry about it, everyone’s special,” said Kenny. “And I don’t care, what do you want to do? I’ll do whatever you tell me.” He smiled.
Butters blushed, suddenly overwhelmed by being put into such a position of control. “Oh, I dunno, we can play—Hello Kitty Adventure?” His suggestion sort of drifted off, as if he were embarrassed by saying such a thing.
It was cute. Kenny’s smile grew wider. “Okay, let’s do it.”
Butters hollered down to his parents that he and Kenny were going to use the computer (which Kenny thought was ridiculous, because Butters was eighteen already, he didn’t need his parents’ permission to use the family computer! He should have a computer of his own, actually, Kenny thought to himself) and then led the two of them into the study room. Kenny watched with some sort of fascination as Butters told him how to play, though the game wasn’t very interesting, only cute, like Butters.
“And then you try an’ get My Melody across the bridge before Badtz Maru can get her!” said Butters, configuring the keyboard controls so that the little cartoon bunny whose name Kenny presumed was My Melody hopped across the bridge. “There!” said Butters happily. “Now you try!”
Kenny tapped the arrow key a few times and got the little bunny across. Butters beamed.
“You got it!” he said. “Now, the next level is the pond level, with Kerropi the frog...”
He showed Kenny how to hop on lily pads with some cartoon frog, and then how to dive under fences with some cartoon dog. It all seemed very entertaining to Butters, as he laughed and giggled at all the right parts you were supposed to during the game plotline, and Kenny had to wonder, Is he really in my grade?
Then Butters sat down next to him, because the office chair was big enough to hold the two of them (both were relatively scrawny) and Kenny remembered that yes, Butters was in his grade. Butters had grown quite a bit over the years, though he never lost that little boy aura that he always had. But his legs were longer and his body was warmer and he was, indeed, a teenage boy, even if he had the personality of a ten-year old.
As Butters controlled some little cartoon mole through a garden, Kenny’s eyes drifted down, and he put his hand on Butters’s thigh. Butters didn’t seem to notice, until Kenny was stroking his thigh, hoping to earn some reaction.
“Oh!” said Butters, and Kenny got the reaction that he wanted. “W-What are you doin’, Kenny?” His face was slowly turning pink.
Kenny grinned. “Nothing, don’t worry about it,” he said innocently. “What are we doing with that cat?” He nodded toward the computer screen.
“Oh, this cat is Mimi, Hello Kitty’s twin sister,” said Butters, moving the cartoon cat with the arrow keys. “We want to put her in the living room...”
Butters went on, and Kenny continued stroking his thigh. Kenny decided to tease him a little more by slipping his hand to the inner part, between his legs. As he slowly moved up, Butters stopped with his computer game explaining, and said,
“K-Kenny, what’re you doing?” He said ‘what’re’ so quickly that it sounded like ‘water.’
“Nothing,” Kenny said again. “Really, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Continue on.” His hand was sliding farther and farther up. “What are we doing with that mouse?”
“Mouse?” Butters lifted up the computer mouse.
Kenny used his free hand to point to the computer screen. “That mouse,” he said, pointing to the cartoon one.
“O-Oh right! Well he wants to play sports with Mimi, so—”
Kenny’s hand moved a bit too far and his fingertips lightly touched the vee of Butters’s pants, making Butters jump and leap out of the seat. He looked at Kenny, wide-eyed, and Kenny felt a little disappointed that he couldn’t go on.
“You know, Ken,” said Butters, “I-I don’t like falsely accusin’ or anything, b-but I’m startin’ to think that you don’t want to play Hello Kitty Adventure anymore.”
“Sorry,” said Kenny apologetically, conveniently leaving out saying, it’s because I want to do naughty things with you. “I guess I was just getting bored. Is there anything else we can do?”
“Well you shoulda told me that earlier!” said Butters. “Yeah, there’s something we can do. You wanna help me play Words with Friends?”
“Sure,” said Kenny, and Butters opened up the page to his Facebook.
Kenny had played Words with Friends before on his own Facebook account, but the words he usually made were like “sex” or “penis” or “pussy” or “boobies.” Usually his opponents got fed up with his immaturity and refused to continue their game with him, because somehow he always found some way to incorporate a dirty word every time it was his turn. Watching someone else play, though, was something he had never done before, and he really didn’t know what to expect out of Butters.
But apparently Butters was better than he led on, because Kenny watched him play against Clyde, using words like “quixotic” and “enigmatic” and “raconteur.” Kenny didn’t even know what the fuck those words meant, and he didn’t even know Butters knew them. Ten moves in, Butters had already reached a score that Clyde couldn’t even hope to get, and shortly after the game was over and he’d won.
“Yay!” said Butters happily, doing a little dance and spinning in his chair. “I win! I win!”
“You did win,” said Kenny, staring at the screen which read Butters: 527 Clyde: 48. Then he looked at Butters and grinned. “I guess this means you get a prize then.”
“A prize? I get a prize?” said Butters, eyes wide. “Oh geez, I’ve never gotten a prize for winning Words with Friends before!”
“It’s a special prize from me,” said Kenny, grinning. “It’s the Kenny McCormick prize.”
He didn’t think Butters was ready for kissing yet and didn’t want to scar the poor kid for life (especially if his breath stank), so he just settled with a simple hug as Butters’s prize, as much as it pained him to do something so tame. But Butters seemed happy by this, so Kenny decided that he could be happy with it too.
A few hours later found him walking home from Butters’s house, at around 9:30 in the evening. He’d been unceremoniously kicked out when 9:00 rolled around, which was apparently Butters’s bedtime, no exceptions (even though he was eighteen!) and Butters even said that he had to abide to his parents’ rules but that he was really sorry that Kenny couldn’t stay over for any longer. Kenny knew that it wasn’t anyone’s fault and that Butters’s bedtime was just protocol, but still.
He walked around the streets, kicking pebbles and not quite feeling up to going home yet. Spending so much time with Butters had made him horny, which was odd because there wasn’t anything sexy about Butters, really, and he had been the one teasing Butters, not the other way around. But Kenny was suddenly just itching to masturbate, so despite being out in public, he found a nearby alleyway and did what he had to do with class. He couldn’t even think about girls or titties or Chef’s porn because he had just come back from spending so much time with Butters.
Kenny walked back out and made his way down the street, passing Shakey’s Pizza. It occured to him suddenly that he hadn’t had dinner; Butters had offered him some earlier but at that time he hadn’t been hungry. But now he was, and he scoped out to the dumpster to see if there was any free food he could nick for a little bite.
As his eyes passed over the window of the restaurant, though, he caught sight of Cartman sitting at a booth by himself, looking angry about something. Kenny furrowed his eyebrows and frowned. What was Cartman doing here all alone? Usually he went with some unwilling friends, or a business client or something, or even his mom. It wasn’t often when you found Cartman alone. Though he was with food, and Kenny wouldn’t be surprised if Cartman considered food his friends.
He entered the restaurant and strolled over to Cartman’s table. “Hey,” he said, sitting across from him.
Cartman glanced up from what appeared to be a clipboard and said, “I’m not sharin’ anything with you.”
“Well, we can’t always get what we want,” said Kenny cheerfully, and then stole a piece of Cartman’s large pizza pie. Cartman looked like he was about to try to stop Kenny, but Kenny had devoured it all in two bites without any interruption.
He licked the tomato sauce off his fingers, surprised. A Cartman not trying to protect his food was not a normal Cartman. Something was up. “What’s with you?” he said.
“Nothing. Everything’s just so damn expensive,” Cartman grumbled. Kenny leaned in a little bit closer—it seemed like Cartman was looking through a women’s catalog and was calculating a bunch of prices.
“What’re you doing that for?” he asked.
“I’m trying to see how much all of this would cost if I used all of my money, all of my mom’s coupons and the most amount of money I can find from her,” Mrs. Cartman had started hiding her wallet after an incident in ninth grade when Cartman had stolen it and then it accidentally gotten lit on fire by some fire-breathing Arabians, “donated my kidney and pretended to be old for special benefits, and then got all of my limbs amputated so they’ll feel sorry for me and charge even less.” Cartman sighed. “And it’s still too goddamn expensive!”
“What is?”
“This gay necklace thing.”
Cartman held up the catalog. Kenny inched closer to see it clearly. The necklace was extravagant, and Kenny, though not a chick, would say that it was pretty.
“And why are you getting that gay necklace thing?” he asked.
“Because I am, okay? Now shut the hell up and let me do my work!”
Cartman resumed scribbling on his paper again and punched in numbers on his calculator, and Kenny watched him as he stole some more of Cartman’s pizza. He got away with the second one, but as he picked up the third one, Cartman said, “Don’t even think about putting that in your mouth unless you want to wake up with AIDS.”
“Okay, okay, calm your tits,” said Kenny, putting the slice down.
“My tits are fucking calm! I’m just trying to figure out how much money this fucking thing is so I can get it and make everyone fucking happy because apparently one fucking gift isn’t enough ‘cause only one gift means you didn’t put enough fucking thought into it and who the fuck cares ARGH!”
Cartman buried his head in his arms. Kenny stared at him.
“Man,” he said. “You are worse than when Kyle bitches about St—”
He froze and didn’t let himself say anymore. But Cartman had heard it all and looked up and said, “When Kyle bitches about what?”
“Nothing!” said Kenny, but what he had been about to say was not getting past Cartman.
“He bitches about something, doesn’t he? Tell me what he bitches about!” Cartman leaned across the table, and then his eyes widened suddenly in realization. “Wait, you weren’t about to say that he bitches about Stan, were you?”
“No!” Kenny denied again, but Cartman’s mind was set. He had figured it out.
“Those fags,” he whispered to himself. “Those fucking retarded fags.”
“What?” said Kenny, suddenly confused.
Cartman looked at him. “You just said that Kyle bitches about Stan. What exactly does the fag bitch about?”
Kenny sighed; it was too late to try to take anything back. “Yeah,” he said. “He always talks about how much he likes Stan and how hopeless he is and how he’s never gonna tell Stan and everything. It’s so gay.”
“But Stan likes him back,” said Cartman.
Kenny could feel his eyeballs popping out of his skull. “Really?” he said. “You’re not fucking with me here? Stan actually likes Kyle?”
“Yeah! He told me a few weeks ago!” said Cartman excitedly. “He was saying how he liked Kyle the same way I like that hippie-bitch!” Kenny was too amazed at the prospect of Stan liking Kyle back that he didn’t even blink an eyelash when Cartman admitted this. “Jesus Christ, those two fags are hopeless!”
“They are,” said Kenny thoughtfully. “What do you think we should do about it?”
An evil grin formed on Cartman’s face. “We should never let them know,” he said with the air of someone plotting murder. “We should never let those find out. But we should always tease them about it, saying things like, ‘Oh Stan, don’t you think Kyle looks gay today?’ or ‘Oh Kyle, don’t you just want to touch Stan’s luscious hair?’, waving it in their faces like they’re little puppies and what we know is a dog treat is a dog treat that we’re never gonna let them have so they can starve—”
“Oh shut up, Cartman, don’t be such a dick,” said Kenny, and Cartman stopped. Kenny mulled over the thought, taking another pizza slice since Cartman’s focus was more on the Stan and Kyle predicament. “I think we should tell them that they like each other,” he said. “And try to get them together.”
Cartman scowled as his dream of torturing Kyle and Stan forever fell flat. “But that’s no fun.”
“Dude, that’s because your idea of fun is inflicting pain on Kyle.”
“Inflicting pain on Kyle is fun!”
Kenny rolled his eyes, but didn’t bother to jump to Kyle’s defense as that was usually Stan’s job. He continued thinking about it, how he expected himself to be less surprised than he currently was, because he’d actually never really considered Stan liking Kyle back before. It really wasn’t his problem, but knowing that his two close friends of several years had faggy little crushes on each other was a hard thing to comprehend.
Cartman put his pencil down, yawned, and then said, “I gotta go take a brown now. Don’t steal any of my pizza while I’m gone.”
“I won’t,” Kenny lied, deciding to let his thoughts go. “And what the fuck’s ‘taking a brown’?”
“It’s what I’m saying instead of ‘take a shit’, or ‘shitting,’” explained Cartman. “I feel that it’s more mature.”
“And since when do you care that you’re mature?”
“Shut the fuck up, I didn’t ask for your opinion.” He hopped out of the booth.
“This doesn’t have anything to do with you liking Wendy, does it?”
“I don’t like that ho!”
“You just admitted it to me five minutes ago.”
“Well you heard me wrong!” Cartman stormed off to go to the bathroom.
“And ‘brown’ isn’t any more mature than saying ‘taking a shit’!” Kenny called after him.