AN: Hey, I am back after what some may describe as an extremely prolonged absence. What happened was that I planned out this story on my phone, and after it died I felt like I would never get the magic of the perfect (to me) plot back. Then I got a review that seriously made me question the direction and the quality of what I was doing and I wanted to self-reflect on my writing.

I also haven't watched much South Park in the last few years, so I ask that you please give me a little leeway if things seem OOC or contradictory to canon. This is a fucking gay story so I can't imagine it will have much to do with canon anyway, but I guess let me know if Stan's become a homo lately or something.

I will edit this entire thing when I am done, if I don't die first. 20 chapters. Let's go, motherfuckers.

Kyle was frustrated.

It had been the second time in a row Cartman had beat him. Cartman's Mom kept bringing them Cheetos, which Kyle didn't want to touch because the inevitable cheese dust seemed like a distraction. Not that Fatass seemed to care much – licking his fingers, leaving a trail of stick across his game remote, wiping his hands every couple of minutes across his couch cushion.

"What are you, asshole, some kind of wild animal?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Kahl," Cartman said between taking a swig out of a two liter cola, "I couldn't hear you over the sound of my army beating yours over and over again."

Kyle was a bit put-out over that insult, but he tried not to let it show. He did not entirely succeed. "Whatever, dick. Aren't we supposed to be talking about the paper we're supposed to be doing?"

"Oh, yeah, we are." Cartman was intently watching the screen, and when he talked he spewed gunks of half-chewed cheese puffs everywhere. "It's only due in a few days. I am sure we can figure out something by then."

"Only a few days?! Fatass if we don't turn it in, it will majorly affect our final grades."

"You're missing the big picture, Kahl," and Cartman actually paused the game and looked at him. "The paper is the only thing between us and wonderful Spring Break. Beaches. Sun. Who cares if we half-ass it? You and I half-assing is still better than the rest of our class."

Cartman, in all actuality, had a good point, although Kyle didn't particularly want to think of the impending Spring Break. Stan had insisted on a road trip. Kyle was sure it would be fun. But he never did very well around swimsuits. His infernal weakness, as it were.

A little voice in the back of his head wondered if Stan had done it on purpose. But that sort of cruelty seemed beneath his best friend. Jesus, he was really starting to get paranoid! Of course Stan would want to go somewhere sunny! South Park and the snow never seemed to suit his best friend. They were mismatched; Stan shown too brightly for their small town. Kyle wondered, not for the first time, what would happen when they graduated, and Stan had the freedom to leave.

"Not to mention the beach is the perfect place to pursue my cause," Cartman continued.

"Oh, for fuck's sake. The fat thing?"

"So typical. Using your thin privilege to dismiss my crusade. How many fatties do you think will be on the beach wearing t-shirts, hiding their flawless bodies? There's someone who needs to change things, Kahl. It will have to be me."

Kyle briefly thought about starting a crusade where everyone had to wear t-shirts on the beach. "Cartman, what the hell are you planning?"

Cartman's eyes grew wide, a flawlessly feigned innocense filling them. If Kyle hadn't know him for years, he would think it was legitimate. Fatass was a wonderful actor when he wanted to be. "I don't know what you're talking about, Kahl. Those words you said to me in the hall? Well, they really made me realize the fat stigma in our society has to stop."

"My words did no such thing, you lying little sack of shit. I don't know what your scheme is, but if it's just to sucker money out of dopes like my mom…"

"Kahl, Kahl, Kahl. That's not my plan at all. Of course your mother has donated, but I never asked her for anything. I simply knew she would respect my passion."

Kyle threw his hands up. "Your only passion is for yourself!"

"It hurts me, Kahl, that you think so little of me." Cartman went back to playing the game. Kyle couldn't stop staring at him out of the corner of his eye.

"Cartman, are you gonna try to fuck with me?"'

Cartman was silent for a long while. Maybe he hadn't heard him.

"I thought you said you weren't going to fuck with me, Kahl," Fatass finally said. Kyle threw his remote down.

"Goddamnit! I knew you had some sort of plan. What is it? How does fat pride correlate to ruining my life?"

"Woah, Kahl, you have a mighty big opinion of yourself if you think I want to ruin your life."

"You hate me," Kyle said flatly.

"I don't hate you," Cartman ammended rather quickly. "That's too strong of an emotion. Let's just say… I dislike you."

"You hate me," Kyle repeated, and then he stood up. "I am leaving now, Fatass. Have fun writing that paper on your own. Just do it on A Separate Peace or Catcher in the Rye like everyone else. I don't fucking care. Just don't fuck it up too badly."

He started to leave, but then he heard Cartman call after him. "I've already started the paper, Kahl. It's gonna be on Giovanni's Room."

Kyle's fingers lingered on the doorknob, but then he took a deep breath. "That sounds great," he said as calmly as he could. "It'll make us stand out and get us a better grade for sure. See you later, Cartman."

Then he left.