To Love and Die In South Park

Okay. This is my first South Park fanfic, since I just got started on it (but I've watched a WHOLE lot of episodes so far!)

The title is based on the Family Guy episode 'To Love and Die In Dixi' which is what inspired me to write this, and should in no way be taken literally.

Also, every chapter's gonna be through a different point of view and thus have different tones reflecting their personality (i.e. Kyle is more verbose and wordy as he's academic, Stan's is a little more emotional, Kenny is a little, well, perverted and also observant, and Cartman's is...well, Cartman.)

Anyway. Enjoy!

Chapter 1: Hitler, Betrayal and Push-up Bras

The Marsh house was silent in the early morning as the sun began to creep out. There was barely a sound, except for the soft snoring from one sixteen-year-old Stan Marsh.

"Stan!" a woman's voice shouted from behind the closed door. "Stan, Kyle, get up! Time for school!"

The boy muttered an incoherent reply, opening his eyes for a second before closing them again.

"Stan," his mother persisted, roughly calling him out of his dream-state once again.

He groaned, opening his eyes. "Mom, it's like 6:30!"

"No, dumbass, your clock's broken," came a boy's voice from somewhere in the room.

He looked over to the spare bed across the room (a good idea, which they came up with in the fifth grade because Kyle spent the night there so often) but saw it was empty.

Reluctantly, Stan sat up, looking around.

"It's seven, and you and Kyle have got to finish that project that's due today!" his mother continued.

Stan yawned as sleep began to wear off, cursing the day that Shelley moved out of the house and thus made his parents give him all their attention. Since then, it seemed as if no matter what he did, and no matter how hard he tried to hide it from them, his parents would always find out, and their reactions were sometimes less than pleasant and almost always surprising.

"Stan?"

"All right, Mom, I'm up!" There was a pause, and it seemed at his first coherent sentence, his mother left.

"Kyle?" he called out to the seemingly empty room.

"Right here, dude," came the reply.

He sat up further, looking down at the floor. There was the red-head, his super-best friend since before he could remember, sitting crossed legged with a large board lying in front of him.

"Jesus Christ, Kyle! Did you sleep at all last night?"

Kyle rolled his eyes as he glided a gluestick over a small sheet of paper. "I only got up an hour ago. Thought I'd work on this, since we keep putting it off all week. You gonna sit there on your lazy ass or are you gonna work on this thing?"

"What's left to do?" he asked through a yawn.

"Just the glue," he replied, tossing Stan a gluestick as the raven-haired boy made his way over. Stan barely caught it.

"Holy shit, dude," Stan said in awe as he looked over the once-barren board. "You didn't do this in an hour."

"All right, so maybe I did some stuff last night, too." The redhead shrugged.

Stan looked at him incredulously. "Dude, you have issues."

"It's due today, Stan. In like an hour." He shrugged. "Besides, I always get up early."

True, as Kyle was usually reading or eating breakfast downstairs by the time Stan woke up, since Kyle's mother usually woke him up at 6:00 or even 5:30. Which, Stan supposed, was a big reason why he didn't spend the night at the Broflovskis' very often during school days.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" Stan asked quietly.

"Last time I tried that you gave me a black eye, remember?" Kyle half-joked. "Besides, I know how bitchy you can get in the mornings."

"For the last time, I hit you in my sleep! I didn't realize..." he trailed off when Kyle began to laugh. "Anyway. Thanks, dude. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You're such a girl," the redhead said, smiling. "Now work."

Both worked quickly and quietly, finishing the project in less than twenty minutes. After which, the boys got ready for school.

Stan changed into a pair of dark blue jeans and a green t-shirt, Kyle into a pair of green khakis and a brown Terrance-and-Phillip tee. Both raced down the stairs for a quick breakfast, Kyle holding the board in his hand.

After breakfast, the two grabbed their coats off of the coat-rack.

As Kyle shrugged on his new yet familiar orange coat and Stan donned his blue and red hat, Stan couldn't help but laugh.

"What?" asked Kyle as he began to put the green ushanka on his short but curly red hair.

"Just...it's like old times, you know?"

Over the weekend, two days before, their friend Kenny McKormick had found an orange parka much like the one he wore when they were younger. It fit him, and he had worn it for the day as a joke.

Of course, it had led to conversations about their childhood, reminiscing of good (and bad) times, and Kyle and Stan had both gone out to buy a coat similar to the one they wore, using their old hat and gloves from when they were younger. The last boy, however, Eric Cartman, decided to follow their lead, but because of the fat jokes and teasing, he decided instead on using the same coat from when he was eight, determined to show them that he had lost weight.

Which, of course, led to the whole school finding out about their idea, and officially the school dubbed today as 'Retro Day.' Everyone from elementary school would dress as they used to. Of course, the others from the other elementary schools would probably dress 'retro' but they wouldn't know.

There were a lot of differences from today to seven years ago, Stan noticed as he looked at his friend. Not only the obvious ones, like the fact that Kyle had grown taller and more toned. His eyes became a darker shade of green, his differently styled red curls poking through beneath the hat, his face more mature now with seven more years behind him.

It was kinda weird.

"You look a hell of a lot different, too," Kyle replied.

"How the hell do you do that? It's like you're psychic or something," Stan asked, shocked that his best friend seemed to hear his thoughts.

"I was one for a while, if you haven't forgotten," Kyle replied, stepping into his boots. He scowled, looking up at Stan. "Then again, you were, too, though I was never on TV."

"Dude, we were both fake," Stan rolled his eyes. "And besides, mine was only to prove the point that John Edward was the biggest douche in the universe."

"Naturally," the red-head smiled as he opened the door.

"I can't believe Cartman actually is going through with this," Stan began as they both walked out the door toward the bus stop. "I think that all this is worth seeing Fat-Ass in that old coat."

Kyle grinned. "Yeah, but you know he only did it so he wouldn't feel left out. Plus you know how much he likes being the center of attention for everything."

They approached the bus stop, where they took in an all but familiar sight: a somewhat short and slightly (though the others would never admit it, he had lost a lot of weight) chubby teen wearing jeans and a very small red coat with a blue and yellow hat talking with a taller boy hidden beneath a dark orange parka, strands of blond hair poking through.

Kyle turned to Stan, a mischievious smile behind his eyes as he approached the two unseen.

"Hey, guys." His voice was much higher, much like his childhood self had been like. So much so it made the two turn with wide eyes and even surprised Stan.

"Holy shit, dude, how the fuck'd you do that?" asked a very surprised Kenny.

"Kenny, you know no Jews hit puberty since their weiners are gone. That's Kyle's regular pussy voice. He only makes it sound deeper."

Kyle rolled his eyes, the first verbal attack rolling right off. "Shut up, Fat-Ass. You're just mad cause I scared the crap outta you."

"'Aye! I'm not fat you stupid Jew! Look at the coat!"

"Oh yeah, those jelly rolls hanging out prove your not a Fat-Ass. You're just a stupid Fat-Ass."

Stan rolled his eyes as the daily banter continued. He turned to Kenny. "So, how'd your project turn out?"

The blonde rolled his eyes. "Oh, great. We did a PowerPoint. Or I should say I did. This asshole made me do all the work while he watched re-runs of Fat Abbot and Terrance and Phillip and gained a whole twenty pounds."

"And I payed you to work, didn't I? So you can go pay your five-dollar rent for your crappy rat-infested shithole," replied Cartman.

"Fuck you, you blood belching vagina!"

"Go screw Jew-boy you pussy-eating lesbo!"

"At least I eat pussy!"

The silence fell over the two, replaced with laughter. Stan and Kyle quickly joined in.

Their laughter subsided with only a light 'goddamn you, Kenny' from Cartman.

"Well, at least we know that we can still understand Kenny," Stan observed.

"Yeah," Kyle agreed. "You know, when we get there everyone's gonna be looking. And Ms. Garrison..."

"I know!" Stan continued. "That he/she follows us everywhere! Somepne's bound to say something."

The bus pulled up, opening their doors.

Kyle stopped, looking thoughtful. "Hey, you know something, you guys? This is gonna be the last time we wait here. I mean, now that I've got my license..."

"Carpool!" Cartman grinned, the thought of not having to walk to the bus stop everyday winning over his dislike for Kyle. "You know, Kyle, you've always been such a great Jew friend--"

"You're walking to school still, Fat-Ass. You need to drop some weight," Kyle replied, rolling his eyes as he walked onto the bus while Cartman spit out an insult.

The four split into their usual seats: Stan and Kyle sharing what was common knowledge as 'their seat' in the far back, Cartman sitting either next to Wendy or Butters depending on how much he had pissed off the former, and Kenny next to the lucky Girl of the Day.

"Dude, do you seriously have to drive?" Stan asked. "I mean, it's probably more expensive than riding the bus. I mean, this is America, after all."

"You're coming with, you know," Kyle replied softly as he turned his head and looked out the window.

Stan's eyes widened. "See, you did it again! How do you know?"

"Stan, we've been super-best friends since preschool. You'd think I'd know a thing or two about you by now."

There was a pause. "H-hey, Kyle?"

"No, I don't know what you're thinking now."

"Goddamn you!" he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he saw his friend smiling.

There was a comfortable silence as both turned t their left and loked out the window. The South Park High was a good fifteen minutes from the bus stop, plus other stop the bus made to pick up others.

Stan heard Kyle sigh, causing his attention to shift from the scenery to his friend instead. His eyes were closed, a content smile on his face. He opened them, his green eyes meeting Stan's blue in the reflection in the window.

"H-hey, Kye?" Stan asked timidly. "Can I come with you to the DMV?"

Both knew whatthe DMV could be like, and the bus ride there. It would be a long ride into North Park and an even longer wait in the lines to get his license, and the ride back was most likely going to take place in the dark and driving through Middle Park at night was not the safest thing to do since cross-town rivalry started between the high schools.

Alone, Kyle would make it, but with Stan it would pass the time, make them both feel better and the trip would be much more pleasant and fun.

The red-head smiled. "Sure, dude. But only if you want."

"Yeah," Stan replied. "I got nothing better to do."

They both fell silent again, this time Stan facing forward. He had seen the same scenery for the past two years, and it wasn't unfamiliar to begin with. He sighed, and then stopped abruptly from surprise when he felt something collide with his shoulder.

He turned slightly, though he already knew what it was, seeing a mass of red curls. He smiled, causing Kyle to look up.

"Sorry," said the younger boy, beginning to raise his head.

Stan shook his head, seeing the full fatigue in his friend that he had been hiding. "No, it's fine. Kyle, tell me you didn't stay up all night working on this."

They met eyes again, Kyle looking away, a slight redness in his cheeks. "No, dude. Course not."

"You're a terrrible liar."

Kyle sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, a habit Stan swore Kyle had adapted from him. He reopened them, meeting Stan's eyes again.

"It's just...we kept putting it off, you know? Hanging out or playing Rockband and stuff. I mean, Manette rides our asses enough as it is."

"You're like his Teacher's Pet!"

"Well, that'd all change if I didn't do the project, right?" Kyle retorted. Then his gaze dropped, his eyes avoiding Stan's. The redness in his cheeks began to darken. "Besides, I know you need this grade."

Stan's jaw dropped. "Kyle, I am just about everything in my power not to hit you right now. I can't believe you just said that! You are under no circumstances going to pull an all-nighter for my sake! Now put your head back on my shoulder and go to sleep!"

Kyle smirked, closing his eyes and resing his head on Stan's shoulder once again. "You're welcome."

With a deep sigh, he succumbed to sleep in a matter of seconds. Stan decided to do the same, resting his own head on Kyle's. As he began to close his eyes, he saw the familiar drawing they made in the third grade that marked this seat as theirs: K.B + S.M. BFFS 4 EVER.

Stan sighed too, closing his eyes and smiling. "Thanks, Kyle."

--

Stan awoke to a very painful and blunt hit on on the head, which forced the other side of his head to collide with something else. By the time he groaned and winced, he had been hit twice more.

He opened his eyes in time to see nine-year-old Cartman swing a hardcover Tale of Two Cities book at him, striking him again.

"Wake up, faggots!" he called.

Stan opened his mouth to say something when he felt something stir beneath his head. He lifted his head, the day coming back. He realized Cartman was sixteen and not nine, that today was 'Retro Day' and that the unruly mess of red was in fact Kyle, who was waking up from a much-needed-but-not-enough nap after staying up all night for him.

They met eyes, smiling.

Cartman wrinkled his nose. "God, you guys really are queer. Come on, Kenny. Let's leave these two homo erections in their morning-after."

Kenny laughed as Cartman walked down the bus isle, but did not follow him. Instead, he turned toward Stan and Kyle. who were standing up, raising an eyebrow at them.

"So how long have you been sleeping together?"

"Kenny, we are not sleeping together!" Kyle huffed.

"You've stopped? Bored in the bedroom? Could help if maybe you added a third once in a while. And seeing as how close we are--"

"Gross, Kenny!" Stan inturrupted. "You'd really do anything, wouldn't you?"

Kenny laughed as they made their way down the bus. "I think you two going at it would be pretty hot. Besides, chicks seem to love my flexibility. In more than one way."

He winked and ran off, finding a cute Sophomore girl to hit on. Same old Kenny.

The two entered the school, Kyle insisting he hold the project. "So I'm gonna stick this in Manette's room."

"Not yet. I still gotta hit you for last night."

"Ooh, please tell me there's gonna be spanking involved."

Stan wrinkled his nose, playfully hitting Kyle in the arm. "Dude, you hang around Kenny way too much."

"Nah, I just like screwing with your head," Kyle shrugged.

"Don't think you're getting off that easy," Stan started seriously. "I don't want you falling asleep during your classes. I'll have Cartman use a cattle prod and Kenny stick things down your pants every time you start sleeping."

"I'm sure they'd both love that," Kyle realized, serious.

"That's how I'd know they'd do it."

He was most concerned for his friend's health, though. Second semester of Freshman year, Kyle had stayed up for three days straight and had lived off of coffee and sugar. He had ended up in a diabetic coma for two days and had had to postpone finals. Since then, Stan had been going easy on him, not even staying up later than two in the morning.

As the two walked down the hall, Stan recognized a few people by their clothing. Craig and Clyde were still close, talking in their group while Craig flipped off somebody, causing them all to burst into laughter.

As they were looking at all the other people, a very good-looking girl in purple and pink bumped into them as she was leaving her locker. She bit her lip nervously when she recognized them.

"Hey, Kyle," Stan's girlfriend since fourth grade, Wendy Testaburger said. Her blue eyes met Stan's briefly before she looked away. "H-hey, Stan."

She clutched her books more tightly, sighing. "Stan, can we talk later?"

Stan's eyebrows furroed in confusion. "Sure. Everything all right?"

Her eyes flickered to Kyle's for a second or two before looking back at Stan. "Later."

And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving a very confused Stan.

"What the hell was that about?" he asked.

"No idea. Listen, dude, I'm...gonna go stick this in the history room."

Kyle began walking away, but Stan caught his arm. "History's the other way."

"Oh. Guess I'll go the long way. Besides...I gotta talk to Tweak about a Math assignment."

"You mean you have to talk to Wendy about what just happened," Stan corrected.

"I...yeah." Kyle's eyes didn't meet Stan's.

Stan took the board from Kyle. "I'll take this to Manette's room. Talk to her. And try to tell me what's wrong."

Kyle looked down, his cheeks turning red. "Thanks, Stan. I-I'll see you fifth period."

And with that, he turned on his heel and half ran down the hall after Wendy.

Since Freshman year, Kyle and Wendy had many classes together. As the top two students they were almost always partners in class (unless Stan or Bebe were in the room) and often studied together. The two had developed a strong friendship.

And although there were times when Kyle had reluctantly betrayed her trust (for example, if Wendy thought Stan was getting too distant or if she needed space) Stan knew Kyle would never betray his trust and he trusted them together.

Now, however, there was a sinking feeling in his mind. When he looked around, he noticed people were staring at him.

It took a while to realize that people were staring at his clothes, seeing how different he looked.

Perhaps today wasn't the best day for 'Retro Day.'

He ignored all of this, especially the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach as he hurried to the History and to drop off the project, where he'd see Kyle in no less than three hours.

--

As it turned out, the encounter marked a series of interesting things that happened that day.

It was second period, English. Ms. Garrison, of course, was their teacher, as well as homeroom.

She walked into the room, followed by a strange boy.

"All right, class, we have a new student," Ms. Garrison started in her I'm-obviously-a-gay-male voice. "This is Sam, who just moved here. Try not to be little freaks and stare. Sam go sit down in an empty seat."

Stan got tapped on his shoulder as Ms. Garrison made her way to the desk. He turned around slightly, seeing a note on the top corner of Kenny's desk behind him. He picked it up, seeing the new kid sit in the seat next to him.

Trouble in paradise? Kenny's spiky yet legible handwriting read.

Stan frowned, taking out a pencil. What's that supposed to mean?

As he turned to quickly hand it to Kenny, he and the new kid met eyes. He had blue eyes, Stan noticed, and realized that the new kid was observing the exchange between him and Kenny.

He turned back, listening to Ms. Garrison give a lecture on Charles Dickens, though time and time again she would go completely off-topic. Suffice to say, both the student body and Ms. Garrison both liked her better as a high school teacher, since she could talk more on-level with students and therefore didn't stray into celebrities all the time, though she still did occasionally.

As she turned around to write something on the board, Kenny tapped Stan on the shoulder again.

All I'm saying is...Kyle's straight. And Wendy's straight, too.

What was he getting at? Stan sighed, rolling his eyes frustratedly.

If this is another goddamn gay joke, then I'll be the one to kill you today.

He practically threw the note just in time as Ms. Garrison turned around, continuing on how Charles Dickens wrote all his novels, and how there wasn't supposed to be the last chapter in Tale of Two Cities.

He was poked in the ribs with the eraser of a pencil, surprising Stan as he didn't expect Kenny to answer so quickly. As soon as Ms. Garrison turned around, he snatched the note.

Hasn't Wendy talked to you yet?

The sinking feeling returned. His mind was once more filled with the image of Kyle and Wendy in the library, talking and laughing together and having a good time. Why was he thinking like this? He trusted his girlfriend and his best friend together...right?

Stan frowned, a little upset that Kenny knew as much or more than he did.

None of your goddamn business.

He glanced at the new kid, who had been watching earlier. Now, he was looking down at his notebook, writing or drawing something.

Stan stole a glance at Kenny, who only looked looked at him, an odd expression on his face.

"Stan," he whispered. "Don't hate Kyle. It was a shock to everyone."

At this, Stan's suspicions were raised tenfold.

--

The next five periods were hell, seeming like hours. The new kid was in his fourth and sixth period classes, Trigonometry and Chemistry, and as Stan waited for the bell to ring for history class in his seat, he was surprised to see the new kid walk in again, walking outside the class to talk to Mr. Manette.

Seventh period history was the one class where all four boys were in besides the already-passed lunch and homeroom. Of course, the latter two didn't really count since everyone had the same lunch and homeroom, separated by year since the high school was so small.

Stan looked over at Kyle, who before entering had been talking to Wendy again, before she left to her own respective classroom.

He didn't have a chance to talk to Kyle during their study hall, which was the only class besides History that they shared, and the unanswered questions were making him feel uneasy.

His stomach began turning, this time accompanied with a little jealousy. It had to be something else. Maybe people had been talking because Wendy and Kyle were study buddies. Maybe Wendy just wanted to assure Stan that nothing was going on between them, and that's why she wanted to talk to him. Maybe Kenny's note was him thinking along the same lines as everyone else. Yeah, that had to be it.

Kyle was unusually quiet, even as Kenny began talking to him.

Kyle looked...blank.

Stan took out a piece of looseleaf, ripping off a chunk, mimicking Kenny's earlier actions.

What happened? he wrote, tapping Clyde on the shoulder and handing him the note. Clyde was used to being the middle-man of note-passing between the two and was happy to oblige.

It was at that moment that Mr. Manette wallked in, the new kid behind.

"Everybody, this is Sam, a new student to this school--"

As Mr. Manette began to have the class welcome the strange yet now-familiar boy, Cylde tapped Stan on the shoulder, giving him the note.

Later, Kyle's neat and jagged handwriting replied.

What did Kyle mean? He wondered. That he would tell Stan later or that he would have to wait for Wendy? He turned toward him, but Kyle was looking down at his notes.

It wasn't until he heard his name being called that Stan turned back toward the teacher. The new kid was coming toward him, he realized, but then remembered the empty seat behind him.

The new kid, Sam, was on the short side, maybe 5'4 at best, with a thin tone similar to Kyle's. He had blue eyes and dark brown hair that stuck out under a dark green baseball cap. He wore a baggy army green jacket zipped up most of the way, a maroon shirt underneath, showing a bit below the collarbone. On the breast of the jacket was a medal of some sort, like a star. His tan pants were baggy.

"All right, now before we start the projects, let's open our books to review a bit--yes, new kid?"

"I don't have a book yet," said the new kid.

"Well, what do you know, Kenny, we got another kid as poor as you!" the teacher mocked.

At this, Kenny gave a witty and crude retort, but was censored by the parka.

"Actually, Mr. Manette, the school gives us the books," Kyle pointed out, wanting to get his project over with like the rest of the class.

"Well, gee, let me just get off my ass and go to storage and get it. Look...Stanley, why don't you just share with him."Mr. Manette, unfortunately, had the same sense of humor and patientce as Ms. Garrison. Coincidentally, the two were dating, and shortly after Ms. Garrison began to work at the high school, much to the students' frustration.

Stan reluctantly turned around, placing the book on the new kid's desk between the two.

The new kid scoffed. "What the hell's up that guy's ass?"

Stan sighed, a bit relieved at the normal statement. He was relieved that this kid's first words to him weren't English and gay like Pip's had been, annoying and aggrivating like Gregory's, pathetic and embarrassing like Mark's, or evil and psychotic like Damien's. Just...normal.

Stan smirked at the statement. "Ms. Garrison."

Sam made a face. "Sick, dude."

"Tell me about it."

There was a pause as Cartman eagerly--and correctly--answered a question about the accomplishments of Hitler, mostly at the expense of Kyle. Out of character still, the Jewish boy didn't react.

Something had to be wrong.

"So, you're Stanley?"

"Stan."

"Oh. I'm Sam, if you haven't guessed from all the teachers who like to embarass the shit me." The kid grinned and Stan smiled.

"So, where are you from?" Stan asked, curiosity getting the best of him. South Park could get so boring, and Sam was the first new kid since Freshman year, and even then the 'new kids' were only from the outskirts of Middle Park, who they often played against.

"Last few years I lived in Denver. My dad wanted to get away from the city life. Adjusting to a class of fifty instead of three-hundred, though, might take some time."

"All right, class," Mr. Manette began boredly. "I guess it's time we get these crappy little projects over with. Anybody want to go first? All right, Craig and Clyde can go first. And the rest of you should be taking notes and suggestions for afterward."

As Craig and Clyde half-BSed through their report, Stan began going over his own report. During his wait before school as Kyle talked to Wendy and in between classes, Stan wrote and memorized his own speech for the report, figuring it was the least he could do since Kyle did the board.

"Can I see?" Sam asked shyly.

Stan shrugged, handing him the paper. He read through it quickly, giving it back to Stan. "Pretty good. I did a paper on him last year."

"All right, who wants to go next? How about--Eric, put your hand down!--Tweak and Butters."

"What!" shouted Cartman, angry. Cartman had been almost falling out of his seat with his hand raised to be called on.

"So which one is your partner?" asked Sam.

Stan turned and gestured toward Kyle, ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach once again.

"The kid with the green hat," Stan told him.

"Kyle, right?" Sam asked him. Stan nodded. "You two close?"

"Like brothers," Stan replied. "I've known him since birth, practically."

"Wow. That's awesome. I wish I had someone like that," Sam said, almost wistfully. "Sorry, that sounds kinda gay."

"Stan," Clyde whispered his name, tapping him on the shoulder. He indicated to Kyle, who was gesturing to the front, silently asking if he was ready to go next. Stan nodded.

"All right, now who wants to go? All right--Eric, goddamn it, if I have to tell you to stop one more time, I'll give you an automatic F!--Kyle and Stan? You wanna go?"

Cartman removed his hand from Kyle's head, as he was trying to push the boy out of his seat in an attempt to get called on first. Nobody but Cartman and Kenny knew the project topic, and it seemed to them (mostly Cartman) like a good surprise.

Stan rose out of his seat, Sam smirking.

He and Kyle walked parallel to each other down the row to the front of the room, Kyle placing the three-panel board on top of the provided desk, spreading it out in front of them. The two stood in front of it, to either side.

They weren't supposed to be long reports. Rather, it was supposed to be the board that was the project; the words were only to help support it and show that they knew what they were talking about.

"Benito Mussolini was an Italian politician who led the National Facist Party, and is credited with being the one who created the concept of Facism." Stan pointed to the picture of him. "His greatest accomplishments were the improvement of job opportunities and the economic system in Italy. He became one of the main figures on the Axis system in World War II. He was captured by the Allies, escaped and recaptured and executed by the Communist party."

He looked to Kyle, wqho began to do his part of the speech, talking about the concept of Facism. He remembered when they were working on it, he remarked that the school must be under Facist rule, since it seemed that everyone had to be the same.

He thought of how everyone followed the four's plans and dressed 'retro' and again found it to be ironically true.

He glanced at Sam, who was the only one (at least he assumed) who wasn't dressed as he did when he was younger. Still, there seemed to be something about this new kid that he couldn't place...

Sam was staring boredly at them, meeting Stan's eyes, startled. Kyle finished his speech, eliciting a small round of applause from the group before they put the board in the pile with everyone else's who had already gone.

"All right, who wants to go next? That's more like it, Eric. You and Kenny can go."

"Mr. Manette, if we may step out of the room for a second. It's all part of the project."

"All right, but if you ditch class one more time, I'm going to make you dress in drag at lunch and dance on the tables," Mr. Manette warned.

"I-I don't think Cartman'd have a problem with that," Butters stuttered, remembering the clip of Cartman dressed as Britney Spears. The kids snickered.

Ignoring Butters, Cartman smiled darkly. "Oh, don't worry, Mr. Manette. I wouldn't ditch an opportunity like this for the world. Come on, Kenny."

Stan looked toward Kenny, who was a seat in front of Kyle. The hooded blonde looked at Kyle sadly, mumbling something. Kyle looked straight ahead, still.

The two stepped out for a while as Bebe and her partner Rachel began talking out Winston Churchill and his accomplishments.

"You didn't do too bad," Sam admitted to Stan, and then smirked. "Considering this is all a crappy assignment."

"Thanks," Stan told him. "Actually, I got most of it from Wikipedia."

Sam smirked. "Nice."

The door opened a few seconds after Bebe and her partner finished, Kenny walking in first, the same as he had left. He wheeled in a overhead projector. "We're ready!" he shouted behind the hood as he pulled down the projector screen, opening his file.

"All right. Where's Eric?"

As if on cue, Cartman walked in, wearing a grayish-tan uniform, his dark brown hair parted to the side, a small dark square of a fake mustache on his upper lip.

"Oh, shit," Stan muttered.

The first PowerPoint slide popped up showing a picture of the man who Cartman emulated with a red background, a large title: ADOLF HITLER.

Stan sighed. Some things never changed. He looked two rows down at Kyle, who was beginning to turn red from either embarassment or anger. That must be why he had been so still.

"Genius. Visionary. Hero," Cartman began dramatically and enthusiastically, his eyes lit up. "That is how many people viewed Adolf Hilter. He was a young leader and a great speaker with solid views and beliefs. He started out poor, much like Kenny here, and started to hate Jews when he realized that they were only out to get his money like Jews usually do."

He pressed the spacebar, the next photo showing a young boy in a black and white picture, Hitler.

"Because all the Jews were hoarding the money because they're greedy bastards, Hitler told the country that they were responsible for the downfall of Austria. He wrote this all in his book Mein Kampf, a book, which I found very insightful."

"What's his problem?" Sam whispered to Stan.

"He's always had a Hitler-complex," Stan replied. "Ever since we were little. And Kyle's Jewish."

"Jews are cool. I used to date a Jew..." Sam murmured, half to himself.

Next showed a picture of the book and a crowd with Hitler standing at the front.

"It didn't take much to persuade the people, since everyone knew how Jews were the reason that the economy was so corrupt. After Hitler overthrew the pussy-ass goverment and made himself leader, it became clear to everyone that he was their only hope at ridding the world of the filthy Jews and perhaps getting the economy better. It was time to get rid of the Jews."

At this, he pressed the space bar again, showing a picture of Kyle. Stan clenched his fists, looking over at his friend.

"Goddamn it, Cartman!" Kyle shouted, holding in as much anger as he could. His first were clenched tightly, his face a deep shade of scarlet.

"All questions have to wait until the end of the presentation, Broflovski," Mr. Manette said boredly, turning the page of his magazine. It was obvious he wasn't paying any attention to the presentation.

"Yeah, Kyle. All questions have to wait until the end," Cartman smirked.

"But it's not even right what he's saying! Hitler didn't overthrow the goverment, he slowly rose into power and put his supporters in high powers until he usurped the leader! This is all an excuse to spread your anti-Semitism!"

"Anti-Semitism is a belief, Kyle, and it's not polite to belittle people's beliefs," Mr. Manette said absentmindedly.

"Yeah, Kahl," Cartman teased. "Stop belittling my people. Stop being so anti-anti-Semitic!"

"Fuck you, Fat-Ass!"

"Kyle!" Mr. Manette reprimanded. "Look, both of you stop bickering like a gay married couple and just get the report over with before I send you both to detention!"

"As I was saying, Hitler managed to not only exterminate millions of Jews, but the economy began to finally get strong. Must be a connection, eh, Kyle?"

The boy only let out a growl as Cartman continued.

"Well, it was all going fine until the Allied hippies started to get involved, claiming that killing Jews was 'wrong.' Since the U.S. was run by a liberal, they all invaded Germany and defeated Hitler's army. But, rather than surrender and be a fag, Hitler continued to fight until he committed suicide so that the stupid gay Allies couldn't kill him first. And that is Hitler, strong, noble, and great."

He stopped, expecting applause, but instead only got shocked looks, some at him and some at Kyle. Thank God it was last period.

The bell rang, but no one left, wondering what Kyle would do, and if there would be a fight.

But to everyone's surprise, Kyle left the room, clutching his books extrmely tight, his knuckles turning white and hit face a dark and angry red.

Cartman laughed, the second one to exit. Stan followed him, leaving the other kids too shocked.

As the students began filing out of their classes, Stan walked up behind Cartman.

"Cartman," he called.

Cartman turned around, and Stan hit him in the face.

--

After school, Stan walked down the steps, waiting for Kyle as usual. As he waited, Kenny passed him, clapping him on the shoulder.

"I'm afraid your man's not gonna show up for quite a while," the blonde said.

"He's beating up Cartman?" Stan asked, hoping he could see the Fat-Ass get beat up by the scrawny Jew. It was just so hilarious and always cheered Stan up.

"Sadly, no. He already did that. You missed it? It was great," Kenny smirked. "No. He's talking to Wendy."

"Wendy? What's he talking to her for?" Stan asked, the sinking feeling coming back again.

Kenny bit his lip, casting his eyes downward. "You haven't talked to her yet, have you." It wasn't a question.

"Kenny, what's going on?" Stan demanded.

"Why don't you ask her yourself?" Kenny asked, looking over Stan's shoulder. Stan turned to see Wendy and Kyle talking, Kyle's chin having a bluish bruise and a cut on his cheek. Stan turned to Kenny, who was starting to turn. "And, if it helps, you know I'm still here."

He walked away, leaving Stan's throat dry. Kyle and Wendy approached him.

"I'm just going to talk to Kenny," Kyle told Wendy, briefly meeting his eyes with Stan's before turning and going after Kenny.

Wendy tucked her hair behind her ear, a nervous habit. "Hey, Stan."

"You said you needed to talk to me?" Stan asked, hoping with everything that this was all just one big misunderstanding.

"Yeah, um..." She gestured to the steps, sitting down. "Here, sit down."

Stan gulped, sitting next her.

"Look, we've been together forever, it seems, and I still really like you. But over these past few weeks, well...my feelings have begun to change, and right now I see you as... just as a friend. And, I mean, I just...I don't think we should see each other anymore. I mean, just for a little while, and then we can hang out, you know, as friends."

"You're...breaking up with me." Stan stated, his suspicions confirmed and his mind numb. "I thought things were good, though."

"They were, but...there's something you should know." She sighed, and Stan wondered how this day could get any worse.

And it did. "I've been seeing someone for a couple weeks. I didn't want to say anything until I knew it was serious, but then I realized yesterday that he was. And I really like him. He didn't want to say anything until now because he didn't want to ruin your friendship--"

Stan's mind stopped being numb, and instead exploded in anger, jealousy and betrayal.

"It's Kyle, isn't it! I thought I could trust him, my best friend! You've been screwing around with Kyle the last couple weeks?"

"Stan--"

"I should've known. I should've known that that was what you were doing all those times in the library, in your house, in his house for Christsakes! I trusted you together I figured, 'no of course my best friend wouldn't be trying to hit on my girlfriend behind my back' but apparently I was wrong! But you know what? I should've listened to Cartman years ago. You're nothing but a slutty bitch."

He saw Wendy's eyes begin to well up with tears, and that brought him some satisfaction, as well as a small feeling of guilt that he ignored.

He stood up, leaving Wendy to cry and walked toward Kyle and Kenny, who were only a pair of orange dots.

He watched them, looking at Kyle, who caught his eye and ran up to him. Stan glared at his friend.

"You were supposed to be my best friend, Kyle! Why didn't you tell me?" Stan yelled.

"I'm sorry, Stan. I wanted to but Wendy--"

"Fuck you, Kyle! I hate you! You were supposed to be my friend and you betrayed me! I don't want you to come near me ever again!" Stan tore past him, leaving the red-head hurt and confused.

Stan walked away, head held high, trying desperately to put these feelings at the back of his mind before he did anything stupid out of grief. A part of his mind told him that he was still in shock.

He turned the corner, running into a strange-yet-familiar boy.

"Hey, Stan," Sam greeted, smiling.

"Hi," Stan greeted, trying to push thoughts of Kyle and Wendy out of his mind.

"Are you going anywhere?" Sam asked him.

Stan remembered his promise to go with Kyle to North Park to the DMV, but then his mind was once again filled with Wendy's words: I've been seeing someone.

"No," Stan replied.

"Well, I was wondering if...you know, I mean, you're the only person so far that I've really talked to all day, so I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to show me around town? You know, give me the tour?"

Stan paused, knowing that if he did abd if he and Sam got along (which he seemed to be okay) then Sam might very well become Kyle's new replacement.

But then he thought of Kyle, of him and Wendy, looking in the direction where he last left them. He turned back toward Sam, smiling.

"Sure," Stan told him, and they walked toward South Park as Stan was trying to forget about Kyle.

It was dark by the time Sam arrived home. The day with Stan had been great, and South Park seemed to be interesting, considering how restricting and closed-minded the people in the city could be.

Sam closed the door, removing the green jacket and taking off the baseball cap. Dark brown hair waiting to be released spilled down Sam's shoulders, the maroon shirt showing off unwanted curves.

"Is that you, Sammie?" called a light male voice, Sam's father.

"Yeah, Dad," Sam replied, walking into the kitchen. "And don't call me Sammie anymore. It sounds too girly."

"Sammy can be used for guys, too," Sam's dad said defensively. "So, how was school?"

"Great," Sam sighed. "I met a boy, Stan. He was really nice to me. We hung out after school."

"Sam," came the warning voice.

"Relax, Dad. Nothing's gonna happen. I promise."

Sam's dad relaxed. "Good, cause I'm starting to like this town already. Here, have some of these."

He pointed to a tray of cookies, and Sam took one and ate it. "They're good."

"They're a housewarming gift, brought over by a nice woman, Liane something. She's really nice. I've got some other stuff in the fridge made from the other neighbors. See, you don't have to worry about stuf like that in this town like you do in the city. I think we can make it here."

Sam sighed, taking more cookies with, deciding to go upstairs.

In the new bedroom, Sam turned toweard the mirror, taking in the repressed-feminie figure in the full-body mirror.

Sam looked over at the closet, gazing at the dressers which held the tight t-shirts and the low cut tops, the push-up bras and the lacy underwear, the tight pants that showed off the ass and the skirts and dresses.It was a long time since anybody wore those, and it would be an even longer time before anyone would again.

Such was the life of a girl posing as a guy for the rest of her life.

A/N: Ho-ly sh!t that wasn't supposed to be that long. I was actually shooting for about 3,000 words give or take, but this turned into almost 8,000 words!

Just a warning, I don't expect the next few chapters to be quite this long.

Also, I apologize to any Jewish people who are out there for Cartman's report. It does not reflect my beliefs and opinions in any way, since I am so in love with Kyle's character (after Kenny and tying with Stan, of course--hence the reason why this is going to be a Style, because that is my favorite pairing)

And I also apologize to everybody for this rant because I am typing this at two in the morning.

Tell me if you think Sam is a Mary-Sue. I want this fic to be as original as it can be. Please review, anyway and tell me what you think, as this is my first SP fanfic. Thanks!