No one just left their cell-phone at home anymore; that was practically negligence! There was a reason why Kyle wasn't picking up his phone or responding to his messages: the fucker was keeping something from him – something big. At first Cartman didn't think it was such a big deal, especially considering the fight they'd had the first day this mysterious behavior had started up.
Last Tuesday, Cartman had told a joke at the lunch table- something about Rush Limbaugh being at a Rosh Hashanah celebration and an overcooked roll of Challah bread. He couldn't remember the joke very clearly, but whatever the punch-line was, Kyle had been none too pleased. The asshole had given him a shiner over it, and afterwards Cartman had had to explain to the whole Debate team why he'd looked like a fucking Boxer reject at their first local competition.
Captain Gregory Fuckface Langsdale did not make things any smoother for him either. That know-it-all chav had almost kicked him off the fieldtrip because of Kyle's oh-so-smart decision to wallop him that day. Thankfully, however, no one else had been prepared enough to take his place. The look of disappointment on Wendy's face had almost made the whole thing worth it.
After purposely mixing Blondie O'SnobButt's and Smarty McPrissyPants' talking points and costing them the semifinals, he'd spent the rest of the bus ride home planning what he'd do to Kyle. He just needed to make sure the fucker was home. Yet after sending several taunting text messages and a phone call or two, the only bitching Cartman was met with were the grumbles coming from both of his seething teammates from the back of the Enterprise Van.
So Kyle was ignoring him. Big deal! He'd dealt with this before. One visit to the Jew's room - uninvited of course - would solve this dilemma. That was the only real way to approach such a devious plan of action. Kyle was going to wish he had never decided to over react the way he did, not after Cartman got a picture of him doing, well...
Yet by the time Cartman had made his way down the familiar rooftop and onto Kyle's weathered windowsill, one look inside the boy's dark and lifeless room had confirmed that his Jew was not home. Shit! And he'd brought all the tools required to pull this off too. He had been sure Kyle would have been home that night. Kyle had Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays off, and the latter two he'd always spend hanging out with his super butt buddy. Kyle always reserved Tuesdays for raids and homework in between his guild members whining over loot.
Cartman would know; he had Kyle's schedule memorized.
So then where there hell was Kyle? Eric had known that it was probably one of two places. He'd decided to first walk over to the movie theater to see if Kyle had gotten called in for anything. Sometimes Cartman would go watch a movie late at night solely to antagonize him, but Kyle's work ethic and diligence even in the AM hours would always catch him off guard. It was like the Jew never tired, which would certainly come in handy one night.
Those working the late shift at the cinema didn't get off until 2am. By 1:30, Cartman had assumed that Kyle would have been wrapping up. By the time Eric had gotten over there, however, it was ten minutes till closing and the only person there was that bitch Heidi Turner. She had given him a weird look when he asked if she was working alone that night. After staring at him for a moment, she had threatened to call the cops when she'd realized he was wearing all black.
Alright, well not every plan was a winner. Cartman was well aware of this, but after striking out, it had become clear that his Kyle Schedule needed updating. It would have been one thing if Kyle just ignored his texts because of their fight; that, Cartman could have predicted. What Cartman hadn't predicted was complete silence AND an unaccounted-for Jew.
What was Kyle trying to do, mock him?
Cartman wasn't about to let that happen. Luckily, Kyle had been at school the next day, so there hadn't been much cause for concern. Wednesday night, Cartman had walked by the theater and seen Kyle sweeping outside. He had made sure to snub him as he whisked past.
Typical night. Check.
Thursday and Friday night, Cartman had crept by Stan's house and had seen them both downstairs playing some gay-ass co-op game on the wide screen. They had both fallen asleep downstairs too. Cartman had stuck around long enough to make absolutely sure there had been no funny business going on.
Typical nights. Check.
Kyle had been working double shifts on Saturdays and Sundays since Avatar 2: The James Cameron Experience had opened, so he was accounted for on those days at least. Mondays were another work night. Cartman was still surprised about how many hours Kyle had been picking up. That fucker must really want that car he kept talking about, and of COURSE his Jewparents wouldn't cut him a break. Cartman always offered Kyle rides to and from school in the meantime, but he never took him up on it.
Saturday through Monday had been typical. Check.
This Tuesday night was the chance to solve the mystery, and Cartman made sure to camp outside the front of Kyle's house this time. He made an effort to be extra calm around the Jew today during school, ensuring no fights would break out, but even after a simple "Hey, what pages were we supposed to read for History tonight?" Cartman had gotten nothing back.
It was Midnight, and Cartman couldn't see a light flicker or hear a door opening in or outside the Broflovski residence. He assumed Kyle was still inside since he had clearly seen him eating some Jew dinner with his family earlier in the evening. Hoping he was just being paranoid over this whole disappearing-act thing, he pulled himself over the roof again and swayed over to Kyle's window.
Yet much to his surprise, the redhead couldn't be found.
Cartman swung over to the other windows to cover his bases, and even after a close call with the gutter spout, everyone was still fast asleep with no sign of Kyle anywhere upstairs. Cursing aloud, he began to think that maybe he was somewhere else in the house... and obviously doing something he didn't want his parents to see.
That's when Cartman began to think that something was going awry.
Cartman had his cell-phone in hand and ear on the cellar door in an attempt to hear if the familiar "Maniac" ringtone would ring from beneath. After straining his ears, he couldn't hear a thing, which told him that Kyle was probably not in the house.
How did the fucker manage to escape? Cartman cursed to himself before perusing his thoughts for ideas. Kyle couldn't have left from the front of the house, so he clearly had left from the back, but DAMN he must have been fucking quiet like the Jewrat he was! Or mouse, whatever. Fuck you.
Cartman shook his head, snapping his thoughts back in order. He didn't know why, but he assumed this had something to do with that loser douchebag Stan Marsh. Who else would be so god damn important to Kyle that he'd risk getting caught sneaking out at the dead of night for?
Then a chill went up his spine, followed by an entourage of disgusting and equally enraging images flooding his brain.
No. Get yourself together, Cartman. Stan's too much of a pussy to be a real fag, he thought, and stormed in the direction of his house to pick up a more supplies for the long night.
Cartman was thankful that Randy had taken it upon himself to plant a tree only five feet from the front of their fucking house back on some Earth Day a few years ago. He remembered him talking about something to do with green initiatives and the direct absorption of their farts by having vegetation so close to their home. Regardless, it made scaling Stan's house a little easier, but Cartman wasn't used to trusting a lone branch to hold all his weight, and so he brought along a couple things to ease the process.
Namely: his Rainbow Splish n' Splash Inflatable Pool Pal Doll.
His mother's Antonio Banderas blow up doll had died a valiant death saving his ass from a fall one night when the Coon had gotten a little sleepy after fleeing from a black homeless guy on meth. How was The Coon supposed to have known the guy was actually an undercover cop arresting a seemingly harmless white guy who happened to be a drug boss? He'd sure looked like a black homeless guy on meth.
At any rate, Antonio's service hadn't gone unnoticed, and his death would not be in vain. Cartman knew that it was time for his own inflatable friend to take a climb with him. Donned in his usual blank stalker clothes, he approached the tree on Stan's front lawn and threw his rope over one of the sturdier looking branches. Before hoisting himself up, he inspected his backpack to make sure his inflatable buddy was all tucked in (deflated for now to make their initial climb easier) and that his flashlight, window-picking tools, and most importantly, his donuts, were present and ready to go.
Getting up the tree was easy; it was situating himself on the damned thing that was going to take some work. But first and foremost, he needed to get his Rainbow Splish n' Splash Inflatable Pool Pal Doll ready in case the tree decided to piss him off. Straddling the limb, half his gut flopped over one side of the branch while the other rolled onto the other, almost keeping him in place as he pinched the nozzle of the pink, obnoxious, bulbous water toy and started blowing into it.
The thing had obviously not seen any attention for years and years, so the blowhole was faulty and Cartman was spluttering quite loudly the whole time he tried to get the stupid pink unicorn doll to blow up. By the time the think popped full and squeaked to a happy finish, he was worried that he had woken someone up from all the noise he made trying to get settled and trying to get his Rainbow Splish n' Splash Inflatable Pool Pal Doll ready to roll. Lucky and also unluckily for him, the only thing Cartman could hear was a silent hissing coming from the doll signaling that he didn't have much time to check out Stan's room if he wanted to do this safely.
Exhaling a long and determined breath, Cartman started rummaging through his bag to grab his flashlight and stuff his face with one of the strawberry icing donuts he purposefully bought to match the doll. Attention to detail was always important in operations such as these, even down to the color of the accessories he chose to take along with him. The problem was, he was still facing the tree. Somehow, he needed to turn himself around smoothly enough that the branch wouldn't knock upside the windowpane and wake anyone up.
Muttering a couple of choice words through the sugary sweetness of his donut, he tried to loop his right leg over the entirety of the branch in one frustrated swing, but he suddenly felt his whole body lurch to the side. Panicking, he instantly snapped back into position, but his leg whipped too far back and accidently collided into Stan's windowsill causing a loud BANG to echo against the house.
Recoiling back into the tree, Cartman knew that his lovely fuck up had to have woken someone up from inside the house. The sound of encroaching footsteps from behind Stan's window confirmed his fears, so he frantically searched for a clear spot to jump down onto as he clutched onto his Rainbow Splish n' Splash Inflatable Pool Pal Doll and braced himself for dear life.
To his horror, vertigo immediately settled and Cartman felt himself freeze up on the branch, just in time for Stan to swing open his window, catching him in the act.
Both in shock, they just stared at each other for a moment or two as Cartman's donut slowly started breaking away from his mouth, lingering on the side of his lip for a second before tearing away and falling to the ground.
Snapping out of it, Cartman realized that he just lost one of his pastry brethren and cursed under his breath. "FUCK! Look at what you made me do, jockstrap!"
"I've got a 300 pound psychopath hanging out by my window, and you're yelling at me?" Stan combated with a puzzled and slightly annoyed expression on his face, but nevertheless not too surprised.
"Fuck you, smart ass," Cartman shot back, finally managing to get his leg over the branch to turn himself around before practically tumbling through Stan's open window. "It's 220 and I'm not the one hiding away runaway Jews for my own clandestine purposes!"
"What the hell are you talking about?" Stan asked, exhausted.
"Don't play dumb with me!" Cartman stood back up and got in Stan's face, poking a finger at his chest as he interrogated him. "Where's he hiding? COME OUT KYLE, I KNOW YOU WERE IN THE MIDDLE OF SUCKING HIS DICK!"
"Dude, shut up!" Stan slapped a hand to Cartman's mouth, pushing him back towards the window to lecture him pointedly in a hushed but pungent voice. "My parents are asleep and you clearly have gone insane! Kyle's not over here and he certainly wouldn't be sucking my dick. What?" He let go of Cartman, giving him a disturbed look. "Is that why you're over here? Pretty shady, dude..."
"Can it, Marsh. This is a serious problem," Cartman replied, brushing himself off and looking back outside. "Do you have any idea what Kyle's been doing Tuesday nights?"
"I assume raiding."
"No," Cartman immediately shot back, turning back around to face the other boy with new resolve. "He's been sneaking out at night or something, and he refuses to answer texts or pick up his phone while he's out. I assumed the only person he'd risk his mother's wrath over is you, but evidently, I was wrong in that assumption."
Stan seemed genuinely perplexed at that point, lowering his jaw as his brow furrowed in a concerned scowl. "Sneaking out? How do you know all this?"
"Just trust me with this one, asshole!" Cartman argued, widening his stance defensively as he met Stan's concerned look. "It's not like I was STALKING him or anything. I happened to stumble upon this last week, and he's out and about tonight too."
Taken aback, Stan took a step towards the window as he lifted a hand to rake his fingers through his bed-head hair, appearing hurt at this discovery. "Weird, he never mentioned anything about this with me."
"Exactly!" Cartman responded, shifting his eyes nervously for a moment before addressing him yet again. "And you're usually open about everything, right? People you talk to, stuff you keep from your parents, sexual preferences..."
"Dude!" Stan reddened.
"I'm just saying!" Cartman threw up his hands, unraveling his rope again before throwing a leg back out the window. "If he's trying to be all super secret about something, it's weird YOU don't even know anything about it."
Stan faltered, rushing to his closet to get out a pair of pants and shoes. "Must be pretty bad..."
Cartman nodded, appreciative of the mutual understanding but a bit irked that Stan apparently wanted to tag along now. "Exactly. Which is why I need to get to the bottom of this."
Now dressed, Stan followed Cartman out of the window and into the night as he suggested. "Well, if anyone knows the hush-hush shit about South Park, it's Kenny.
Using the rope to climb down Stan's window, Cartman turned to look down the road towards Kenny's block before stating melodramatically, "Then we'll start with him."
Stan and Cartman made polite chit chat on their way to the 'bad side' of the neighborhood, clearly staying away from the topic of why Cartman was so obsessed with Kyle's schedule to the point of staking out Stan's tree. Instead, they focused on what Kyle could possibly be doing so late at night unbeknownst to anyone.
"I've got it." Cartman snapped his fingers, turning to Stan with a proud smirk. "He picked up a second job as an adult party clown for bachelorette parties."
"Ugh, NO! I'm pretty sure you legally have to be 18 for that shit and he just turned 16. Not that he'd ever do that in the first place." Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. "I seriously question you sometimes. Scratch that, all the time."
Cartman rushed past him, folding his arms into his chest and glaring at Kenny's rickety door. "Shut up and knock on the door! Ugh." He decided to just do it himself. This was his operation anyway. Stan wasn't about to take control like the heroic dipshit he wishes he could be.
After a few hurried knocks, a girl who only appeared a couple of years younger than them opened the door, immediately frowning in disappointment once she caught the sight of both off them - Cartman's dark clothes clearly indicating why they were here. "Kind of late for a panty raid."
"Real funny, Karen." Stan rolled his eyes, looking past her into the dank TV room. Where's your brother?"
"Which one?" She responded, smartly.
"The one who doesn't talk like a TOTAL retard." Cartman shot back, pushing the preteen out of the way as he invited himself in.
"Rude!" She scoffed, fixing her hair back into its headband before calling out. "Ken! Stan and Fatass are here to see you!"
A second or two later, the blonde hair boy emerged from the back of the shack, looking awfully disheveled and maybe even a bit distracted. "Hey guys, wha-"
Kenny's eyes immediately focused on Cartman's dark clothes, rope, and backpack. Putting two and two together, he gave Stan a sly look and nodded his head in immense approval. "Oh yeah, so Stan's in on the panty raid now?"
"No!" Cartman answered for him, stepping in front of the dark haired boy and responding to his best friend with flushed cheeks and a muted voice. "That was just that ONE time, okay?"
"Wait, that wasn't a joke?" Stan perked up, whipping his head around to Karen for clarification. She simply shrugged.
"Nevermind, Stan." Cartman waved his hand in dismissal, returning his attention to Kenny to ask in a no-nonsense manner, "Listen , Ken. Do you know anything about the shit Kyle does on Tuesday nights?"
Not missing a beat, Kenny just puffed an exasperated breath before snickering under his breath. "Arranges raids with a bunch of other WOWnerds? I don't know why he still plays that game, but you know Kyle. Once he starts something it's almost impossible to get him off of it."
Already knowing that wasn't true anymore, Stan moved forward to contribute in an equally concerned voice. "No no, apparently Cartman thinks he HAS stopped raiding and that he's moved onto something else. Something he hasn't even told me."
Now Kenny appeared shocked, narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms. "Really? Something that isn't even on Super Best Friend basis?"
"Apparently." Stan shoved his hands in his pockets defensively.
"Wow." Kenny huffed, scratching his head as he tried to gather everything he knew about Tuesday nights in South Park. "When it comes to people our age? I know the Goths have their cemetery poetry readings on Tuesday nights, but Henrietta would have mentioned something to me if Kyle started showing up. Bebe has girl's movie night over her house on Tuesdays too, but I doubt Kyle would be interested in tha-"
"Heya Fellas!" A familiar voice broke through the discussion. "What are you all up to?"
"Butters?" Cartman tilted his head to the side, genuinely confused about his friend's presence at Kenny's place tonight of all nights. "What the fuck are YOU doing here?"
"Oh!" Butters chirped up with an enthusiastic jump to his explanation. "I asked Kenny how I could get Esther to REALLY like me, and he told me I had to learn some 'tongue manuevers'. So we've been going over a couple exercises! I never knew th-"
"That's great, Butters - but if you haven't noticed? We're sort of in the middle of a crisis here," Cartman butted in, not caring at the slightest about the "tongue maneuvers" Kenny was showing him behind closed doors.
"Oh really? That sure sounds terrible. Anything I can do to help?" Butters offered, glancing at the other boy for an answer.
"Kyle's been sneaking out Tuesday nights and hasn't told me or apparently anyone why. We're trying to figure out what he's doing and the reason he hasn't told anyone yet," Stan explained.
"Hm. That's really something!" Butters exclaimed, tapping his chin as a memory came to mind. "You know, I talked to Esther last week and asked if she had Tuesdays open. She said she was free on Tuesdays as long as we didn't go over her house since Kevin apparently started having a bunch of friends come over on Tuesdays for some reason or another."
"Kevin?" Cartman questioned.
"Yeah! Esther sure seemed really embarrassed about it," the shifty boy responded, wheedling his hands together in a sudden bought of uncertainty. "She definitely didn't want me going over there. I can't imagine why! Kevin's such a nice guy and all, but I guess I don't want him knowin' I like his twin sister or nuffin'."
"You think this could have anything to do with Kyle sneaking out of the house?" Kenny lit up, turning to Cartman for his opinion.
"It's a lead, might as well check it out." Cartman fixed the rope over his shoulder, making sure he had all his belongings before going off on a rant on his way out the door. Kenny and Butters now both in tow. "I always knew Kevin had something shady going on. He's a great minion but once he starts getting ideas, that treacherous Chinese blood in him starts brewing and all of a sudden some spooky secret Asian shit like THIS goes down."
"What 'spooky secret Asian shit'," Stan asked incredulously, clearly not buying Cartman's bullshit and ready to get this over with.
"I don't know, but we're about to find out," Cartman responded rather confidently, leading the group back into the better part of town.
"Oh boy! I sure do love mysteries!" Butters cheered as he skipped down the road.
Kenny just shook his head in amusement.
Kevin's house was only a block down from Kyle's place, so if this ended up being where the Jew ran off to, it would explain how quickly he was able to pull something like this off. This part of town wasn't rich like Token's neighborhood, but they definitely had bigger yards and nicer cars in the driveway. Cartman's house was right on the cusp of this richer area, but only because his mom had "connections" with the realtors.
The boys had to cross a couple yards and hop one or two fences to get to the Stoley residence. Cartman was familiar with the schematic of Kevin's house, namely because his mother cooked REAL Chinese food so he made sure to hold the majority of his meetings here. Never again would he have to eat that City Wok bullcrap.
Crossing the street, Cartman could already see a couple of familiar vehicles parked outside the house.
"Is that a covered Scooter? Butters, go over there and throw off that tarp," Cartman instructed, feeling pretty confident who that scooter belonged to.
"Yeah and that's Craig's car. I didn't know he hung out with Kevin. I know Clyde and Kevin are pretty tight, but I don't see Craig ever hanging out with him." Stan walked over to the beaten up Nissan, inspecting the contents inside to confirm that it was indeed Craig's car. The PetSmart bag filled with Guinea Pig feed and the empty sandwich bags littering the floor was evidence enough.
Once Butters uncovered the scooter, its flawless orange sheen was all Cartman needed to see.
"Well well well, Fuckface is in on this little secret Asian party too. Probably researching some ancient Chinese secrets on Tea cultivation. Something Faggy and British for sure." Cartman intentionally bumped into it on his way up the driveway, scuffing one of the mirrors and bending it slightly.
"Then what is Craig doing here?" Stan asked, sticking close to Cartman and keeping his voice down.
"Herbs man. I bet Kevin's folks know a couple things about home grown plants." Kenny cracked up laughing, not taking this mission seriously at all but nevertheless hoping he could score some weed with Craig tonight.
Sucking in a hurried breath, Stan whipped his head around to ask Kenny with a horrified expression plastered across his face. "You don't think this is drug related, do you?"
"Or worse. Kevin's parents could be running a drug AND human trafficking ring!" Cartman exaggerated, putting all the pieces together in his head as he rushed past the end of the driveway and towards the back door, "Kyle could be in debt to them, so they're using him as their own personal whore!"
"Oh no!" Butters cried out, speeding up to follow the larger boy to the back of the house.
Finding the fake rock Kevin's parents kept a spare key in, Cartman fished it out of the little hole and unlocked the backdoor like he had done countless times before whenever he called a last minute emergency meeting. "We have to get to the bottom of this! Kyle's life could be in danger! And no one puts Kyle's life in danger but ME!"
"Cartman, I swear to god," Stan growled, growing a little worried himself as he quickened his pace and turned to Kenny. "You don't thi-"
"Dude." Kenny cut him off, his sardonic expression answering his question on its own.
"Yeah I know. Still." Stan sighed, hesitant to follow Cartman into Kevin's house uninvited. Yet a familiar smell eventually lured him inside. "Kenny, you smell that?"
"Smells like... Mint. Strong Mint." Kenny confirmed as he closed the door as he brought up the rear.
Rounding kitchen corner towards the basement door, Cartman overheard Kenny's comment and hissed below his breath. "Bradley's on this too? Man, I knew it was only a matter of time before he'd use his powers as a source of evil! He does all their drug runs, Kevin runs operations, Craig is their dealer, Kyle's their bitch, and that BRIT ASSHOLE is probably the one who organized this whole morally corrupt business!"
"Where are you Eric? It's all dark and spooky in here!" Butters asked out loud, trying to navigate through the darkness of Kevin's foyer, yelping slightly when he was met face to face with a dragon statue.
"Over here! I think I hear them downstairs!" Cartman called everyone over, still trying to keep his voice to a minimum.
Once everyone was gathered around him, he pressed his ear to the wooden door.
"Do you hear anything?" Stan asked, eagerly crouching down next to him.
Cartman lowered his eyes, trying to direct all his senses to the conversation below. "I think... but I'm pretty sure they're talking in code."
"You come across a hallway. The corners are dark, but the light from your torches glints off the cobwebs. A smell of decay is in the air. What's your marching order?" Kyle's voice could be heard clearly from downstairs.
Someone- it sounded like Kevin- responded enthusiastically. "Jedi Master Pan Li goes first! I charge ahead, leaving the rest of my party behind, paying no mind to the possibility of traps!"
"Don't be an idiot, Kevin, you died last session doing that," came a clipped British voice that could only belong to Fuckface.
"That's metagaming, Gregory, shut it." Kyle snapped.
"I think I hear Kyle, and he sounds ticked off as all hell!" Cartman hissed, face sunken in a look of displeasure as he realized who was talking.
"Really? You think he's down there?" Butters chimed in, bringing his hands up to his mouth in shock.
"That's definitely him." The brunet turned to the rest of his group, giving them all an affirmative nod before silently turning the door handle and instructing just below a whisper, "Alright! Lets go kick some Drug Lord Ass!"
They began to creep down the steps, hearing more voices as they descended into the void.
"Well fine then, my rogue is going to pause and check for traps along the walls even though its essentially pointless now and I have a plus four to search," came Gregory's voice again, accompanied by the sound of something clattering down onto a table.
"I FLY IN AFTER JEDI MASTER PAN LI AND SAVE HIM FROM ANY TRAPS BY LIFTING HIM UP IN THE AIR!" That was surely Bradley, whose obscene enthusiasm was matched only by Kevin.
"Okay, that's fine," Kyle exhaled in a defeated voice. Cartman could see him then as he addressed the group, seated at the head of a round table and dressed in robes. A stately wooden crown placed on top of his tangle of red curls, the only part of him visible to the rest of the group as he hid himself behind a folded instruction board shaped like a castle fortress. "What is Molie doing, Christophe?"
Christophe's grumbling Frenchy voice rumbled from where he was seated next to Fuckface, a ridiculous beard covering half his face. "'E is just following Leon Sabre'eart around I guess"
Gregory sighed, poking Christophe with his little plastic sword, dressed in some ridiculous shroud costume and looking like a complete faggot. "You can't just follow me everywhere, you know."
"I do what I want, bitch," Christophe combated by knocking Gregory's sword away with his muddied shovel.
Craig blinked twice, taking the dice now before announcing nonchalantly in his Peruvian hat and poncho. "I follow behind the rest of the party and cast sense magic on the surroundin- what are you guys doing here?"
Everyone looked up from the table to see what Craig was talking about, and there at the foot of the stairs was Cartman, Butters, Stan, and Kenny staring at them as if they were all performing some human sacrifice.
"What?!" Kyle called out in anger, standing up from the table to address his other group of friends. "Who told you about this? You guys don't pl-"
"GET DOWN, KAHL!" Cartman shouted, pouncing on top of the robed boy and shielding him away from the rest of the group. "I'm onto you all! Don't think for a second that I'm going to let you continue this sickening operation!"
"Cartman! For the love of God, get off of me! This is one of the FEW NIGHTS I have off, and of COURSE you'd have to come by and ruin it!" Kyle tried to break free from the larger boy's protective grip, but his long robes made mobility quite difficult.
"Man, Cartman. False alarm. They've just moved from World of Warcraft to D&D," Kenny explained, descending the rest of the stairs to help break up the fight.
"Yeah, Dude. You're just embarrassing yourself. Let Kyle go," Stan added, lending a hand to Kyle as he tried to pry him apart from their estranged friend.
"What's D&D?" Butters chimed in.
"Really. I thought we all decided to hold these private gatherings in order to separate ourselves from such dramatics," Gregory chided, folding his arms into his chest and leaning back into his chair.
"Oh ho ho, but it wasn't hard to track down these 'private gatherings' of yours, now was it Gregory?" Cartman boasted, allowing Stan to take Kyle for now as he brought out his cell phone to snap a picture of this underground operation of theirs. "Hah! Now I have evidence of your li'l scheme! Let's see what the Debate Coach thinks of THIS! Come on everyone! Now to post this to Facebook!"
"Make sure to tag me!" Kevin cheered as everyone else, including Stan, Kenny and Butters, gathered back around the table to resume the game.
Certain that everyone was sure to follow him, Cartman ascended back up the stairs to start work on his new project. A project that would undoubtedly start up the next argument at the lunch table tomorrow, effectively repeating the lovely cycle all over again.
If you enjoyed this story, remember to check out the original artwork that inspired it!