Nonsense About Romance
Chapter 13: Those Bastards
written by domolovesyou - illustrated by Noxicosis and SynnesaiButters didn’t know where Kenny was.
Well sure, he usually didn’t know where Kenny was when Kenny wasn’t around him. Kenny could be at school. Kenny could be at home. Kenny could be playing basketball with his other friends. Kenny could be somewhere smoking. (Butters had seen him do it once.)
Kenny could be doing anything, really. He was an enigma. That was the reason Butters liked him so much. Well, one of many reasons. It wasn’t like there was one sole thing that made you like someone. And it usually didn’t matter where Kenny was because Butters knew that Kenny had his own things to do—but today was Monday, the day of the plan, and Butters, Cartman and Wendy were in front of the school so they could discuss their schedule. But Kenny hadn’t shown up yet and Butters was worried. Where did Kenny go?
“Man, you will not believe the shit we’re going through,” laughed Kenny as he walked along the paths of Hell.
He hadn’t wanted to die again, especially now, and he was pretty sure he was missing a lot of things right now since Hell’s time didn’t quite work like Earth’s did. But then he had run into Chef again, and felt like Chef should know about everything that had been happening.
“Do I want to know?” said Chef, amused, as they passed Michael Jackson and Whitney Houston’s house.
“Actually, yeah, I think you do,” said Kenny. “I like Butters, it seems like Cartman likes Wendy, and all of us are trying to get Stan and Kyle together, who we know like each other.”
“I thought you dig chicks?”
“I dig chicks and dicks,” Kenny informed him. “Anyways, I’m pretty sure Wendy likes Cartman too, and they’re probably going to get together after Stan and Kyle do. Or before.” He shrugged. “And Butters and I are pretty much together, too.”
“And this is all thanks to me?”
“Thanks to you, your will, your porn, and your retarded lawyers who didn’t find your will until a few weeks ago.”
“Well,” said Chef, laughing. “I didn’t expect for this to happen, but I guess it did. What’re you gonna do with the porn now?”
“Probably give it to some random hobo on the street. I dunno. Or my sister, she’s seemed sexually frustrated for a while.”
“Your sister’s a lesbian?”
“Nah, pan,” said Kenny. “She’ll think anyone’s sexy, as long as they’re sexy.”
“Then she’s gonna like my collection a lot.” Chef chuckled. “Well, I suppose it’s time for you to go back up, isn’t it?”
“Why?” said Kenny, surprised.
“Well you said that you were helping your friends get Stan and Kyle back together, weren’t you? Anyway, you can tell me what happens next time you die.” Chef laughed at him. “It looks like you’re starting to disappear, so I think you have more important things than me right now.”
“Thanks, Chef,” said Kenny, feeling himself fade away as he looked to Chef’s smiling face.
“No problem, Kenny,” said Chef.
The first bell for school had rung signaling that they should get their asses to class, stat; and still Cartman, Wendy and Butters were waiting outside in front of the school. Cartman was cursing Kenny out and Wendy was shivering in the cold, but Butters was sure that Kenny was going to show up, he knew it.
When Kenny finally arrived, running down the street and out of breath, the first thing that Cartman did was march right up to him and wring his neck.
“WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN, YOU MOTHERFUCKER?”
“Sorry,” said Kenny, wrenching himself out of Cartman’s grasp and putting his hands on his knees, panting. “I... died... and... just... came... back...”
“You died?” said Butters, his eyes widening.
Kenny nodded and looked up at him, still a little bit breathless. ‘Yeah,” he said, and at Butters’s frightened expression, “It’s okay, don’t worry. No one usually remembers, anyways.”
“Really?” Butters hadn’t even been aware. “Then—Then I’ll remember from now on!”
“You don’t have to,” said Kenny, but he was touched at the sentiment.
Cartman made puking noises, but Wendy smiled and said, “At least you’re here. Now we can actually get through with this thing.”
“Now we can,” Kenny agreed, before the second bell rang and all of them cursed and ran off to class.
When third period rolled around, Kenny was nearly hopping in his seat with excitement. This was it. At precisely 10:03 he was going to hit Mr. Lu Kim with his rubber eraser and put the blame on Kyle.
The moment the clock struck 10:03, he did just that and Mr. Lu Kim whipped around. “Who was that?” he demanded.
No one said anything. Then a kid from the back said, “It was Kyle.”
“What!” said Kyle indignantly, but Mr. Lu Kim said, “Kyle, you have been a bad boy! Detention! Go to office right now!”
“But I didn’t throw that!” said Kyle indignantly.
“Yes you did!”
“No, I didn’t!”
“You didn’t even see me!” Kyle protested. He whipped around to his friend. “Kenny, did you see me throw that?”
Kenny shrugged. Then feeling that maybe he wasn’t acting the part enough, said, “Yeah, I did.”
“What? No, you didn’t—”
“Kyle! Go to office right now! I do not want to hear you excuse!”
Kyle grumbled to himself, but got up from his desk and walked out the door, and Kenny grinned. The clock read 10:05. Exactly when Wendy had predicted.
Several minutes later, he asked to go to the bathroom and Mr. Lu Kim let him. He doubted that anyone would care if he didn’t come back to class. Instead, he headed straight for the office where he knew Stan and Kyle were.
On his way, he met with Wendy and Butters; they had English this period. “They in there?” Wendy mouthed to him as they approached the glass window, Kenny in front.
He nodded and they watched as the office ladies, whom Wendy and Butters had managed to successfully persuade in the end, relayed the news to Stan that his mother had cancer. Kenny, and he was pretty sure the other two too, felt a little bit guilty for lying to him... but it was all for a greater cause.
They heard loud footsteps coming to them and turned to see Cartman trudging toward them.
“Shh!” said Wendy, putting a finger to her lips.
“Sorry!” whispered Cartman irritably. “My history teacher was being a cunt so I told her I had to take a brown and ran for it before she could yell at me.”
“Oh my fucking god Cartman,” said Kenny exasperatedly. “Stop trying to make ‘taking a brown’ happen! It’s not going to happen!”
“Yes it is!”
“No it’s not! It’s just as bad as saying ‘taking a shit’!”
“Why are you saying ‘taking a brown’ instead of ‘taking a shit’?” asked Wendy curiously.
“I thought you didn’t say ‘take a shit’,” snapped Cartman, but he didn’t see the smile on her face as she turned away.
They watched as Stan and Kyle glanced at each other, and then raced off around the corner just as Stan and Kyle came out of the office, Stan rambling out about something and Kyle continuously saying to him, “It’s okay, Stan, it’s okay...”
“I swear to god those are faggier than Ricky Martin dressed in jorts in the middle of July,” muttered Cartman, shaking his head.
They were about to follow them to Stan and Kyle’s car, when suddenly the end-of-third period bell rang, and they realized that they wouldn’t have a means of transportation to follow them, anyway. The four of them looked at each other.
“What do we do now?” asked Kenny.
Wendy’s mouth curved into a smile.
“I have an idea.”
It turned out that the majority of Wendy’s plan after that went exactly as she had planned. Okay, so after they stole Mr. Lu Kim’s airplane behind the school and arrived at the hospital, they found out that the hospital receptionist had accidentally given Stan and Kyle the wrong room number at first so they walked in on a man attempting to soothe a crying pregnant woman by pouring lemon juice on her head. And so when Stan and Kyle walked by the TV set several minutes later on their way to get Mrs. Marsh some water, they missed the majority of Obama’s speech on banning closets—but they still got the gist.
The best part, Cartman would argue, was when Mrs. Broflovski stormed into the hospital with all of her anti-anti-closet protesters right behind her, screaming, “THAT’S MY SON AND HE’S NOT GOING TO SUPPORT YOUR BELIEF SYSTEM!” while pointing at the fearful Kyle, and then literally picked him up—as the rest of the protesters got to Stan—shunted him into the nearby closet that they’d found earlier, with Stan, and then slammed the door, saying, “TAKE THAT, OBAMA!”
Then after that some of her protester-friends came over to her and reminded her it was all just an act, to which she said, “Yeah, yeah, I knew that.”
Then everyone waited.
Waited.
Waited.
And waited.
And stared, at the closet door where behind it was Kyle and Stan.
“What the fuck?” everyone heard Kyle say. “Dude, what are we doing in here?”
“I think it’s one of your mom’s ways of protesting,” said Stan dryly.
“So,” said Kyle. “Now that we’re in here...”
Everyone held their breath and stared. Obama, the doctors, Stan and Kyle’s families, the protesters, the news anchors, the reporters, the teachers who had come over from the school, some of the students who had stalked the teachers, Cartman, Wendy, Kenny and Butters. Even the passing hospital patients, who were curious as to what the fuck was going on and why the hell everyone was staring at a closet.
“Oh hey,” came Stan’s voice, and then the doorknob rattled. “I think it’s open.”
And he and Kyle stepped out.
Everyone stared at them. They were still holding their breaths.
Cartman was the first to react.
“You fucking fags!” he shouted. “You fucking fags weren’t supposed to do that! You were supposed to stay in the closet and confess your un-fucking-dying love for each other and make out and shit but no, you—” he rounded on Kyle “—you Jew had to ruin EVERYTHING, did you!”
“What?” said Kyle, completely bewildered. “What the hell are you going on about, Cartman?”
“This was a ploy to get you guys together,” said Kenny, stepping in.
Kyle went bug-eyed. “What?”
“Yeah!” joined in Butters,
“But we’re already together!” said Stan.
“What?” said the near two hundred people who had been involved.
Stan and Kyle blushed.
“Yeah,” said Kyle. “We... We got together a week ago, but we thought that we shouldn’t tell anyone in case nobody would accept us.”
“Oh bubblah!” Mrs. Broflovski ran over to hug her son. “We’ll accept us no matter if you’re gay or not!” she said to him. “As long as we can rely on Ike to give us grandchildren!”
“Glad to know I’m good for something,” Ike muttered to himself.
“You should have told us,” Kenny told Kyle. “Or else we wouldn’t have wasted our time doing all of this.”
Cartman was still pissed off.
“Seriously? Seriously you guys?” he exploded. “You mean we all did this work for nothing? You mean you fucking assholes didn’t think of telling us before? Now that stupid bitch’s plan is ruined, all of her work was wasted, you guys wasted her time and it’s all your fucking faults—”
He didn’t get a chance to say anymore, because at that moment, Wendy grabbed him by the collar and planted a firm kiss on his lips. Cartman was surprised, but kissed back as some people, including his friends, looked on, while others were laughing and crying and cheering that Stan and Kyle were together because apparently it was a very exciting event.
A few minutes passed of Cartman and Wendy still kissing and Kenny and Butters was talking to Stan and Kyle, and eventually all the adults dispersed like only adults in South Park do.
“Well,” said Stan, glancing at Cartman and Wendy. “I definitely didn’t see that one coming.”
“If you’d paid more attention to us, you would have,” said Kenny.
“Sorry,” said Kyle, embarrassed. “And sorry for not telling you guys earlier. I know why I didn’t want to tell anyone else, but I should have told you, Kenny.”
“Nah, it’s fine.” Kenny waved his hand. “You were too busy being happy with Stan, weren’t you?”
Kyle’s cheeks turned red. “Yeah,” he said.
Cartman broke out of his make out session with Wendy then to call over to them, “You guys are still a bunch of fags!” Wendy just pulled him down again so they could resume kissing.
Kyle rolled his eyes, but Butters laughed.
“Yeah!” he said to Stan and Kyle, pointing at them. “Yeah, you guys are a bunch of fags!”
“Dude,” said Stan, reaching over to put his arm around Kyle’s waist. “You and Kenny are fags, too.”
“What?” said Butters “No we aren’t!”
Kenny chuckled and put his arms around Butters’s shoulders.
“Yeah, I think we are,” he said into Butters’s ear lovingly. “We are fags.”
THE END