Categories > Cartoons > South Park > Through the Cracks
At 7:00 A.M., Ms. Cartman climbed the stairs to her son's room to wake him for school. Most mornings, she was met with incomprehensible whining and needed to negotiate with him over additional minutes in bed, only to finally coax him up with the promise of sugary breakfast treats. This particular morning, she had barely made it to the top of the stairs when she saw the bathroom light on and heard a little voice humming away. She peeked through the open door, and there was Eric combing his hair, a sweet smile on his lips and a song in his throat. He wore a dress shirt that she had never seen him wear voluntarily, and was that the smell of cocoa butter? Her heart melted as she watched him preening.
"Good morning! What's my little sunshine doing up so early?" She clasped her hands with delight. Maybe César's training did the trick after all. I should give him a call and see if he wants some company tonight.
"Hello, Mahm. I just want to look my very best for school today."
Ms. Cartman sensed that there had to be some personal reason for the boy's behavior. Nothing dark and devious, but maybe… Of course! "Are you getting all dressed up for a special little girl?"
"No, no, silly Mahmmy." The pleasant demeanor remained. "I'm getting dressed up for a special little boy." He went back to adjusting his shirt collar, not noticing his mother raise a surprised hand to her mouth.
"Oh, I see. Well, pumpkin, I want you to know that I completely support what you're doing. And I'm sure your 'friend' won't be able to take his eyes off you." She stepped into the bathroom, placed her hands on Eric's shoulders and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
Her darling Eric still wore an innocent smile on his face, but he was laughing on the inside. No, he won't. Pretty soon everyone will know that Butters likes getting a crap tickle, and Kahl will be next. "Why thank you," was all he dared say.
"Well, come on downstairs when you're finished. You'll need a good breakfast for your big day." She returned to the kitchen. Without needing to go through the daily drama of getting her son out of bed, she had ample time to prepare him something extra delicious.
The mention of breakfast prompted Cartman to lick the last of the cocoa butter off his fingers. Not bad. It was way better than the baking chocolate he had helped himself to at Stan's house earlier in the week. Whoever sold that as chocolate needs to get their ass sued. He made a quick trip back to his room to collect his hat and coat. The hat was on his bedpost, but the coat was still on the floor where he had left it the night before. As he bent down to pick it up, Cartman's new favorite accessory became visible over the top of his pants. It was a glittery hot pink thong, emblazoned with rhinestone hearts.
Cartman looked over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He looked himself over, more pleased than ever, and turned his attention to the stuffed frog lying on the bed, propped up against a pillow. "What do you think, Clyde Frog?" Cartman answered himself through the side of his mouth. "'Why Eric, I am feeling so drawn to you right now. Your wish is my command!' Thank you, Clyde Frog, but I must be going. Perhaps later you can shower me with admiration." He wanted time to hurry up so he could get to school and take control of Butters, Kyle, and anyone else he saw fit. The smell of waffles met him on the stairs. He could wait a little longer. There was definitely time for waffles.
Kenny was up early, too. He was even the first to the bus stop. While his three friends needed time to adjust to the crisp mountain air before leaving home, Kenny spent his nights in a house with no heat and some holes in the walls. At least school had a guaranteed lunch and plenty of girls who might tantalize him with miniskirts, the humble beginnings of breasts, or a lacy strap slipping free from under clothing. This morning, girls weren't important. No, girls are always important. But I gotta find out if Butters is doing okay.
When Stan and Kyle joined him, they tossed a greeting in his direction and went back to jabbering about math problems or Kyle's upcoming basketball game or something. Is that all they have to say? A kid – our friend! – could be going through hell right now.
"Hey, what's the matter, Kenny?" Stan gave his friend's arm a little shake to get his attention.
(Huh?)
"You look really tired. Didn't you get any sleep last night?"
(Nah. I couldn't sleep. I had a lot on my mind.) That was as much as he wanted to say. They were his best friends, but they'd never understand the whole story. They'd never believe that he woke up in his bed, not after sleeping, but after taking a skull-shattering fall from a window. They certainly wouldn't understand that it was Butters' safety he had had on his mind. I'm not even letting Butters know I'm worried about him, so there's no way I'm telling these guys about that. It'd sound like the gayest thing ever. I'll just watch for anything that doesn't seem right.
It wasn't long before all three boys spotted something that didn't seem right. Along came Cartman, who seemed to be walking a little differently than usual. Slowly. More carefully. Stan and Kenny looked blank, but Kyle chortled as Cartman wordlessly joined the group. Kyle wanted to keep his comments to himself, but he couldn't hold back. "Wow, fatass. Looks like your uncle kept you on the edge of your seat last night." Stan and Kyle eagerly awaited an atomic temper tantrum, but uncle jokes had completely lost their appeal for Kenny.
Inside his yellow mittens, Cartman's fists began to tighten. He shoved his hands into his pockets and reminded himself to hold off his fury a little longer. Soon, he'd be yanking their strings, with a little help from his G-string. "Kahl, let's leave the lame comedy to Jimmy, if you don't mind."
Kyle did mind, but only because Cartman was so stoic, not getting upset or hurling an anti-Semitic tirade at him. I hate this calm act. He always gets like this right before he does something psychotic. Not this time, you asshole.
The bus pulled up, and the boys piled on. Kyle chatted with Stan while keeping a watchful eye on Cartman, who still suspiciously appeared to be on his best behavior. Kenny climbed onto the bus last. He scanned the seats for Butters and quickly spotted him sitting by himself, looking preoccupied. Pausing, Kenny almost asked how Butters was doing, but the bus was too quiet. He could check on Butters later.
"Good morning! What's my little sunshine doing up so early?" She clasped her hands with delight. Maybe César's training did the trick after all. I should give him a call and see if he wants some company tonight.
"Hello, Mahm. I just want to look my very best for school today."
Ms. Cartman sensed that there had to be some personal reason for the boy's behavior. Nothing dark and devious, but maybe… Of course! "Are you getting all dressed up for a special little girl?"
"No, no, silly Mahmmy." The pleasant demeanor remained. "I'm getting dressed up for a special little boy." He went back to adjusting his shirt collar, not noticing his mother raise a surprised hand to her mouth.
"Oh, I see. Well, pumpkin, I want you to know that I completely support what you're doing. And I'm sure your 'friend' won't be able to take his eyes off you." She stepped into the bathroom, placed her hands on Eric's shoulders and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
Her darling Eric still wore an innocent smile on his face, but he was laughing on the inside. No, he won't. Pretty soon everyone will know that Butters likes getting a crap tickle, and Kahl will be next. "Why thank you," was all he dared say.
"Well, come on downstairs when you're finished. You'll need a good breakfast for your big day." She returned to the kitchen. Without needing to go through the daily drama of getting her son out of bed, she had ample time to prepare him something extra delicious.
The mention of breakfast prompted Cartman to lick the last of the cocoa butter off his fingers. Not bad. It was way better than the baking chocolate he had helped himself to at Stan's house earlier in the week. Whoever sold that as chocolate needs to get their ass sued. He made a quick trip back to his room to collect his hat and coat. The hat was on his bedpost, but the coat was still on the floor where he had left it the night before. As he bent down to pick it up, Cartman's new favorite accessory became visible over the top of his pants. It was a glittery hot pink thong, emblazoned with rhinestone hearts.
Cartman looked over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He looked himself over, more pleased than ever, and turned his attention to the stuffed frog lying on the bed, propped up against a pillow. "What do you think, Clyde Frog?" Cartman answered himself through the side of his mouth. "'Why Eric, I am feeling so drawn to you right now. Your wish is my command!' Thank you, Clyde Frog, but I must be going. Perhaps later you can shower me with admiration." He wanted time to hurry up so he could get to school and take control of Butters, Kyle, and anyone else he saw fit. The smell of waffles met him on the stairs. He could wait a little longer. There was definitely time for waffles.
Kenny was up early, too. He was even the first to the bus stop. While his three friends needed time to adjust to the crisp mountain air before leaving home, Kenny spent his nights in a house with no heat and some holes in the walls. At least school had a guaranteed lunch and plenty of girls who might tantalize him with miniskirts, the humble beginnings of breasts, or a lacy strap slipping free from under clothing. This morning, girls weren't important. No, girls are always important. But I gotta find out if Butters is doing okay.
When Stan and Kyle joined him, they tossed a greeting in his direction and went back to jabbering about math problems or Kyle's upcoming basketball game or something. Is that all they have to say? A kid – our friend! – could be going through hell right now.
"Hey, what's the matter, Kenny?" Stan gave his friend's arm a little shake to get his attention.
(Huh?)
"You look really tired. Didn't you get any sleep last night?"
(Nah. I couldn't sleep. I had a lot on my mind.) That was as much as he wanted to say. They were his best friends, but they'd never understand the whole story. They'd never believe that he woke up in his bed, not after sleeping, but after taking a skull-shattering fall from a window. They certainly wouldn't understand that it was Butters' safety he had had on his mind. I'm not even letting Butters know I'm worried about him, so there's no way I'm telling these guys about that. It'd sound like the gayest thing ever. I'll just watch for anything that doesn't seem right.
It wasn't long before all three boys spotted something that didn't seem right. Along came Cartman, who seemed to be walking a little differently than usual. Slowly. More carefully. Stan and Kenny looked blank, but Kyle chortled as Cartman wordlessly joined the group. Kyle wanted to keep his comments to himself, but he couldn't hold back. "Wow, fatass. Looks like your uncle kept you on the edge of your seat last night." Stan and Kyle eagerly awaited an atomic temper tantrum, but uncle jokes had completely lost their appeal for Kenny.
Inside his yellow mittens, Cartman's fists began to tighten. He shoved his hands into his pockets and reminded himself to hold off his fury a little longer. Soon, he'd be yanking their strings, with a little help from his G-string. "Kahl, let's leave the lame comedy to Jimmy, if you don't mind."
Kyle did mind, but only because Cartman was so stoic, not getting upset or hurling an anti-Semitic tirade at him. I hate this calm act. He always gets like this right before he does something psychotic. Not this time, you asshole.
The bus pulled up, and the boys piled on. Kyle chatted with Stan while keeping a watchful eye on Cartman, who still suspiciously appeared to be on his best behavior. Kenny climbed onto the bus last. He scanned the seats for Butters and quickly spotted him sitting by himself, looking preoccupied. Pausing, Kenny almost asked how Butters was doing, but the bus was too quiet. He could check on Butters later.
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