Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Poor cartman… he ran out of cheesy poofs…what was he to do? His mom was on holiday with a young intern she met at her yoga class. So, he couldn’t screech at his mom until she agreed to go buy her monstrous child more snacks to fill his never ending pit of a stomach. And NOT calling him fat, I would never say such a thing about Lord Cartman. All I was saying was that he enjoys snacks and always has room for more. He is a man that’s dedicated to his craft.

Lord Cartman? You may be asking. Yes, LORD CARTMAN.

“When did he gain this title?”

Shut the hell up and I'll tell you. Pay attention too, you might miss something Important.

Cartman got nicknamed Lord Cartman by the students after he took over all things snack related in the school. How so you may ask? It’s kind of a funny story! You see, the school was having elections for student president. Along with this, one could run for vice president, bathroom manager, foreman of the school’s further constructions, fart manager, and snack manager. Kyle tried running for vice student president and he lost by only one point so good job Kyle!!! You may not be vice president but it’s not your fault the other running candidate bribed Mr. Garrison into not voting for you. He gave him money, and threatened him with blackmail (Mr. Garrison is dating Mr. Hat!!!!). So yeah, the other candidate is a true politician and should have a pineapple shoved up his butt.
Butters ran against Cartman and LOST because I fucking hate that stupid bitch BUTTERS. His hair looks like a flattened mullet top.

Now, is it my fault Butters lost?

Hell yeah.

Do I really care?

Not really.

Butters…wasn't too upset about it. He knew what he was getting himself into this time.
When Cartman won, he brought in better snacks which made everyone respect his authority and even him. People began to call him Lord Cartman and would cheer when they saw him. Everyone was joyous and gay. Hip, hip, hooray for Lord Cartman.
But then he became a snack dictator. Like, he started placing taxes on snacks, a dollar tax for each snack. Cartman ate all the snacks he wanted, sometimes devouring all the snacks in each vending machine!!! And sometimes he wouldn’t refill the machines for days because he had eaten all the snacks in storage. If a kid questioned him on why there had not been any snacks in the machines for the last WEEK Cartman would give them the old WWE smackdown. His dictatorship made everyone HATE him and want to rebel against him. Well, it’s been some time since that all started. But now…back to Cartman’s dilemma…

Chapter Text

Cartman was out of cheesy poofs like I said but I’ll say it again for those who were attacked by the dementia demon. Cartman was PISSED. On top of all that, all his friends went on vacation with their families except Kenny’s family because they are poor, sadly. So Cartman wasn’t able to leech off of their pantries or even hang out with them, which totally sucked ballsacks to the 5th power.

Cartman was starving after eating everything in the fridge. How could he survive? His mother was coming back the next morning!
“URGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!” He yelled in total agony. “Meem’s out and I’m gonna starve to death!!! Oh how will I be able to survive?!”

It was at that moment he remembered…

His emergency Snickers bar he kept in a safe!

He crawled up the stairs to his room, hopefully he could beat the starvation before it could beat him to death. In his room, there was his bed. And under his bed, there was a small man made hole where his precious emergency Snickers bar was at.

Under the bed he crawled to retrieve his emergency Snickers……

Chapter Text

Now let’s go to a dark alleyway by the train tracks Kenny lives by..

The strange note in the locker told him to meet at these exact coordinates..but he didn’t see anyone here.

Did he get stood up?

Tweek was tweaking out. Not only did he have a whole cup of coffee with his usual dosage of 2 tablespoons of crack rock pieces but he had came into this dark, scary, alley way FOR NOTHING!!!

Well..Tweek stood by the dumpster tweaking out.

“ARGH! This alley is super dark! If mom finds out I snuck out I’ll have to go back to the mines!”

Just then an ominous figure emerged from behind the dumpster. Tweek noticed, screeched, and fell forward in agony. “PLEASE! AH!” He tweaked. “Don’t AH hurt me! I’m- I’m coming in peace!” He tweaked again.

A year older than him, the figure shrouded in darkness began to speak to him. “Hi.”

“AH!”

“Dude, stop tweaking out. I’m literally the dude that gave you the note, dude.”

“Oh- AHHH!!!”

The figure rolled his eyes at this pathetic tweaker that was at his feet. “Quit groveling and RISE!”

“What’s groveling?” He tweaked.

The figure shook his head and sat down.

“Tweek, I have a plan.”

“Who-AH!- are you?”

“My GOD you have a bad case of tourettes.”

“EXCUSE ME? MY NAME IS TWEEK NOT TOURETTES.”

The figure just rolled his eyes at that stupid joke.
“Okay my bad, little bro. Anyways, you see Tweek, I can help you. I know one thing you want sooooo baaaaaddddllllyyyyyy.”

“Oh…” Tweek tweaked sadly.

“I was there ya know. Lord Cartman was with his baton waving it menacingly at you, threatening you. Sure, maybe you did try to lace all the snacks with your parents coffee grounds but like, happens to the best of us. Plus, you were just trying to bring in some extra business for your dad.”

“Yeah…”

“And think ‘bout this! Cartman gets a certain percentage of snack money. That means you would also be helping Cartman make more money. He should’ve been totally grateful, dude.”

“Yeah! Y-you’re right uh-”

“Donovan! Or Donno for short.”

“Donovan, thanks a fuckton but why do you wanna AH help me? Aren’t you just a background character?”

“Oh I was bored. I’m not into sports but I like drawing ‘n stuff so I have some clubs for that but all the club leaders fell into a fractured butthole and evaporated into the stratosphere. So..I don’t have any club meetings for a while. I could spend my days until then telling incels on 4chan to kill themselves but it doesn’t seem to be fulfilling in the long run.”

“Oh nice! Well, thanks for helping-AH!”

“No problem my G!”

“Oh I just HATE ERIC CARTMAN he humiliated me in front of everyone!!! What if they know me now as that boy who got a massive dent in my head from fatass Eric Cartman! AHH!”

'Nah, Tweek. Ya gotta mellow out, take a chill pill, ya know? I mean, I’m sure people are talking about it but everyone’s tired of Cartman’s shit. Just cause something happened to you doesn’t always mean people are shit-talking ya.”

“Never thought about it like that.” Tweek tweaked at a lesser decimal. “Wanna come over and we can talk about the plan? I just got rid of my underwear gnomes for good but don’t mention it to my parents.”

“Yeah man………………Groovy.”

The two went back the same way Tweek came. Both sat on the bed eating Little Debbie snacks and chatting about the plan for Cartman. And NO, Donovan did not take off his cloak JUST YET. In time, you’ll see if I allow it to be seen.

Chapter Text

The plan was simple in theory, but hard mentality wise. Tweek tweaked. He always tweaked. Tweek tweek tweek. If he were a bird he wouldn’t say tweet, he would say tweek all day long. Donovan gave him some tweaker advice along with a pep talk. If Tweek should start to tweak out, he should sing the tweaker cure song (Adam Sandler’s at a medium pace) which was scientifically proven that it helped calm the mind of a tweaker. Tweek began to tweak before even getting to the house, he tweaked all the way there. Tweek is a tweaker I think.
Tweek stopped beside the mail box to take a deep breath…

“You can do this Tweek, Just- remember what Donovan told you.” As he began to walk to Cartman’s window..he sung in his head to himself:

“Put your arms around me baby…
Can’t you see I need you so?
Hold me close against your skin,
I’m about to begin, lovin’ you..”

There was a pipe that Tweek had to climb up to get to Cartman’s window. He started to relax as he kept singing inside his head.

“Spit on your hand and stroke my cock at a medium pace. Play with my balls and tell me how big they are. Honey rub your beaver up and down my face, sit on the corner of the bed and watch me whack off.”

While he was breaking the lock off of the window:

“You see that shampoo bottle? Now stick it up my ass.
Push it in and out at a medium pace
Talk about your old boyfriend’s dick and how big it was
Now shave off my pubes and punch me in the face
Oh darling, make me push my dick and balls back between my legs
Call me an ugly woman and take my picture to show all the people you work with.”

Tweek snuck into Cartman’s room and began to search very sneakily and quietly for the safe that Donovan told him about. He waited for a moment before finally realizing…the safe was under Cartman’s bed.
“Oh GOD!” Tweek began to tweak again…what if, and this in Tweek’s words not mine, that fatass Cartman broke the bed and killed Tweek? Can you believe that Tweek would ever say such a thing about Cartman? He had to continue singing the song to himself so he wouldn’t accidentally spontaneously combust from how much he was tweaking out. I will not be writing any more lyrics because I truly don’t feel like it. I am not in a very medium pace mood at the moment as of writing this chapter. If you know the song yourself, then you know what lyrics come next!
Tweek kept singing the song in his head. He found the safe in a hole. The safe was made out of cardboard and it was small and lightweight. Hooray! Huzzah!
Now that he had the safe, he did not need to sing the song anymore. He army crawled out from under the bed and scittered back out the window into the darkness. Tweek ran as fast as his little legs could take him back to his house and when he got back to his room, his heart was tweaking beyond average but his mind was more alive than it had ever been!

Thank God for Donovan! God bless Donovan! And Tweek didn’t even believe in God, his family was buddhist!

Donovan was snoozing on Tweek’s bed when Tweek got home. Tweek decided he would tell Donovan the great news in the morning and went to sleep after he made a bed on his desk like nothing had ever happened at all

…

“Donovan, guess what? It worked! The song worked and I didn’t tweak out as long as I sang that song!”

Tweek grabbed Donovan and hugged him.

“Totally tubular Tweek! I’m so proud of ya! Woah…I knew you could totally do it.”

He never knew he could be part of such a great duo. Hmmmmm………
“Donovan, I’m still curious about who you really are- what you look like I mean.” Tweek slightly tweaked. “Maybe once the plan is finally complete you could show me who you really are?”

“Well, I am Donovan but yeah of course we’re friends for like, life now my guy! I never knew how cool ya were. You’re like…orbeez. Totally amazeballs.”

The two smiled and gave each other a high five because they never knew how cool the other was. The two of them decided to take a break and Tweek showed Donovan around the house. While this happened, someone in the distance, a basement dwelling degenerate blabbered about some bullshit theory on how cheese is vegan but also cheese was made to see who was French so that the flattened mullet top people could infiltrate the French so they could later on join the USSR and become Russian soldiers and he just went on and on...
Basement Dwelling Degenerate (B.D.D for short) hated cheese, pineapples, the French, Russians, government, and mullet tops of any kind. What a stupid idiot.
He also likes eating food from the restaurant Koogers and dum. He says their food is amazing and has a lovely texture. Everyone including me HATES Basement Dwelling Degenerate.
I hope when he gets thrown into prison, Butters (YES BUTTERS) is there too so that he can suffer for the rest of his days

Chapter Text

“Where the hell is my emergency Snickers? How will I SURVIVE until Meem gets home tomorrow?”
Cartman angrily stormed around his room until he remembered…in his toy box!
He opened the toy box and found none other than a big bright pink bong w/ barbie, heart, and 3D jewel stickers all over it. It was very girly, and had a moon on top of it too. Kind of looked like something Sailor Moon would use to get high.
“Of course! My magical genie in a bong can help me out!” He stole this from his mom a couple years ago.

He rubbed the bong and out of the bong came a tall skinny white man. He wore a boysenberry colored saran around his waist with a boysenberry colored scarf around his head. Both pieces of clothing had gold trimming on them. Under his saran he wore a matching pair of underwear that was also gold. His wrists and ankles adorned big chunky bangles. His lips were painted a deep vibrant red, a golden orb was drawn on his forehead, his nails were painted purple.
And of course this BOZO wasn't wearing any shoes today. What a fucking FREAK.

One of his pupils was larger than the other, he placed his hand on his hip while the other zapped an ashtray in mid air so he could put out his cigarette. He didn’t believe in smoking inside a child’s room.

“Gayvid Bowie!” Cartman cheered for Gayvid Bowie could certainly help him out.

“Hi kid.” Gayvid smiled politely. “I was wondering when you were going to let me out, the air in there was beginning to get stale.” He leaned down and gave Cartman a hug.

“Okay save the emotions for later, Gavy. How are your nails? Are you wanting to go back to the nail salon?”

“Not yet, I have stilettos but I think I am going to repaint them tomorrow.”

“Good! Okay, what I really needed you for is that we have to talk business. Please take a seat.”
Gayvid sighed.
“Those plastic chairs are never big enough to hold my ass cheeks. And I barely HAVE any” Gayvid grumbled inside his head.

“Hey cartman, you should SERIOUSLY consider getting some new chairs.”

“Okay okay, let's talk about that some other time, Gavy. Listen, somebody stole my emergency Snickers bar somehow! You understand why that is totally weak.”

“Oh Child! Do you have any idea who stole it?”

“Fuck no I don’t! That’s why I need your help! You have to pull out your crystal ball and show me who it is, that’s the only way I will find out who has it!”

Gayvid reached into his mullet and pulled out a crystal orb. He put it on the table and showed Cartman who had his Snickers. They both gasped.

“GOD DAMMIT!!! THAT STUPID FUCKING ASSHOLE TWEEK!!!”

“I always knew he would get his revenge. You should’ve listened to me, Cartman, and added him to your cabinet or at least apologized. You better hurry Cartman, before Tweek becomes the next Fidel Castro and overthrows you. If people find out your legend of an emergency Snickers is nothing more than a regular Snickers you got your mom to pick up from the Dollar General…that might be the final reason for the students to start a riot.” Gayvid shook his head.

“I ALREADY KNOW THAT YOU BASTARD!”

“Eric!” Gayvid snatched Cartman up with one stiletto nail, the other hand grabbed a high heel out his hair and smacked him across the face with it.

“OUCH! GOD DAMN IT GAVY!”

“Cartman, I talked to you about the way you talk to me. You can forget about me helping you out. Last time I was here you called me a faggot and I am tired of it. I hope everyone sees you for what you really are! Now excuse me, I have some hobbies to tend to inside of my bong.” Gayvid jumped back into the bong before Cartman could say anything else.

“Wha- Gavy! I’m sorry! God damn it!” Cartman yelled in frustration. “Now my bong genie’s totally pissed at me, now what? Why do I always have to do everything myself? I can’t even ask those buttholes Kyle and Stan for help- and screw Kenny I HATE POOR PEOPLE! Nobody told you to be poor so oh my god- get over it, JEEZ-USSSS.”

“It’s kind of hard to hot box in here with you yapping up a storm to the people who aren’t really there.”

Cartman turned around and looked at the bong.
“Mr. Bowie, I am truly sorry that I offended you with my, foul mouth. I truly value you as a friend and comrade. Going forth, I surely will think before I speak. You must understand that being surrounded by idiots all day has got me in a habit of talking bad even to the people I value most. I regret offending you because of a silly mistake I have made. So, could you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

Gayvid sighed. “I forgive you, Eric. But helping you is out of the question. You are still grounded from me. Mkay?”

Cartman sighed while turning away from the bong. “Fine, be like that I don’t have to have your help anyways.” He muttered under his breath. “Screw you Gavy, I’m going downstairs.”

Chapter Text

Two days passed before anything else with the emergency Snickers happened. They stole it on Thursday night, and decided on Monday they would rally the other students in the school to start rioting against Cartman.

“Hey Donovan, can’t you show me who you are now?”
Tweek asked.
“Yeah sure, I’m getting tired of wearing this cheesy thing anyways.”

Tweek didn’t really know what to expect Donovan to look like. He half expected him to look totally emo as hell because of his cloak. But you know, on the other hand…Donovan could take his cloak off and look exactly like a reposted photo of a wojak in the most incelish message board you could imagine on 4chan. But also…Donovan talked like a complete surfer dude and even used some of the lingo from back in the day so at the end of the day, Tweek wasn’t really sure what to expect. How could he prepare himself for what his new friend looked like?

“There” Donovan pointed. “Let’s go to those dumpsters by Craig’s house. I’ll take off my cloak off over there so nobody sees me. I wouldn’t want any spies to tell on us.”
Tweek was beckoned over to the dumpsters. Both of them went behind the dumpsters and just before Donovan took his cloak off he found a piece of paper. He quickly picked it up and put it in his pocket since he figured any more anticipation would cause Tweek to have a total tweak out. The paper was already folded up so Donovan just put it into his pocket.
This was it, the moment everyone has been waiting for. Was Donovan really who he said he was? Or was Donovan like, maybe somebody in disguise?
What if Donovan was actually an alien sent from another planet for some reason?
The anticipation that Tweek felt in a single second before Donovan took his cloak off was KILLING HIM.

“What if it was actually Butters under that cloak? What if Butters is mad that Cartman won instead of him and he has been waiting for the perfect opportunity to get even with Cartman? But Donovan is a year older than me, and last time I checked, me and Butters are in the same grade.”

When Donovan finally took his cloak off after a million jillion years, he chucked it into the dumpster and looked at Tweek.

“Woah!”

“What?”

“You look nothing like I expected. But I mean I didn’t know what to expect but at least it’s not the worst it could have been!”

“Hey, thanks. Totally Tubular Tweek!”

Donovan was a young lad with short shaggy brown hair. He wore blue jeans, a pair of converse, a green scarf around his neck and a "Joe Forever" t-shirt. He had no jacket on because later on, he told Tweek that being born in the middle of the Texas desert gave him the gift of being hot-blooded.

“So what was that paper you found on the ground?” Tweek questioned.
Donovan took out the piece of paper and opened it up. The both of them gasped.

“Dude! What the fuck! Who is drawing yaoi of us?!”

Tweek tweaked at the top of his lungs. “WHAT IF THEY- THEY- KNOW WHAT OUR PLAN IS AND CARTMAN FINDS OUT AND THIS IS BLACKMAIL AND THEN WE HAVE TO FACE CARTMAN’S WRATH?!”

“Dude! Stop tweaking! Take a chill pill!”

But Tweek kept tweaking out. Donovan looked closely at the piece of paper.
“Hey Tweek, look here.” He pointed to the corner of the paper. “Look at the date. This means this was drawn last month, way before we even met each other. It’s okay. And that signature looks pretty familiar, isn’t that the signature of one of the girls in the “asian girls who draw yaoi” club? Or was it called the MHCHS anime club?”

“Just the asian girls clique!!” Tweek was tweaking to the point he was tugging at his hair.
“Dude chill, nobody knows about us or our plan yet.” Donovan tried to assure him.
“I’m not even worried about that, I’m worried it might ruin our friendship! Oh no, it's all happening again. Am I forever doomed to be a product of yaoi?! AHH!!!”

“Nah man, everyone knows about the asian girl clique. One time my best friend called his homie a fine shit and one of the asian girls overheard. The next day, there was yaoi of them in the yaoi art gallery.
In his history class there was this fuckass wannabe gangster edgar guy who annoyed everyone and started saying my friend dropped the soap on purpose. Well one of the asian girls was there and started drawing yaoi of them. Point is, every man in this school is vulnerable to falling victim to yaoi. You can’t use it as a tool to harass someone cause it can happen to anyone.”

“Even Mr. Garrison?”

“Oh for sure.” He sighed heavily.

“Well that makes me feel a lot better!”

“Nice, now let's go ask Craig’s dad about this yaoi. Maybe we could get some information off of him about it. I know he collects it. So either we get a cool lore drop or we get some information.”

So they both went up to the house. After Tweek introduced Donovan to Craig’s dad he said:
“I’m sorry, you two. Craig has food poisoning. I’m not sure how he got it exactly, but I think it was from the restaurant we went to. You know that one called Koogers and Dum?.”

“Oh i Know all about that place.” Donovan said casually. “My brother works there, and everyone that’s an asshole either gets boogers or cum in their food. Usually if people get food poisoning it's because they ate the bread rolls. But anyways, we came here because we wanted to ask you about some yaoi we found. But for the record we are NOT GAY. Here.” He handed the picture to him.

“Ah yes, how much are you selling this for?” He asked after examining it.

Tweek and Donovan stared at him.

“What?” Tweek asked.

“It looks like one of the first drawings of Tweek x Donovan yaoi. On the back it even says Tweek x Donovan meaning the artist, who is Jenny based on the signature, hasn’t even thought of a ship name yet which probably means nobody has thought of one yet either.”

“Uh, so?” Tweek asked.

“Jenny is a great artist, boys. And everyone knows she's going to make it beyond Deviantart and Newgrounds with this talent. So tell me boys, how much?”

Tweek looked at Donovan.
“Uh, you’re the expert. What's the lowest a piece like that would go for?” Donovan asked.

“400 dollars.” Craig's dad told him.

“Really?

“Yeah, let me go get some cash from my piggy bank and I’ll be right back. Would you like me to split the money between you boys?”

“Sure!”

And that’s how Donovan and Tweek made 200 dollars each off of yaoi that day.

Chapter Text

Cartman left at 8:00 AM the next morning because he had to go think of a plan. So he went to Casa Bonita.
Gayvid came out of his bong and busied himself with painting his nails wine red while the TV played the movie “Zachariah”.
Just as he finished the top coat the front door opened.

“Oh my!”

Gayvid turned to look who it was and it was none other than Liane. His eyes widened, and then he began to grin. He cocked his head to one side and narrowed his eyes.
“Hello stranger. Fancy seeing you around here.”
“I’m sorry I haven’t seen you in such a long time Gayvid but I couldn’t-”
“Find my bong.” He cut her off. “It’s okay, your son took it. But it’s been nice being his father. But enough about me, how was your vacation? I heard you picked up a young intern from yoga class?”

“Oh yes, but he really turned me off but other than him trying to kidnap me, I had a really great time. And you Gayvid…how have you been?”

“Fine.” He leaped over the couch and landed on his feet, striding over to Liane. “Let me take these from you-” he took her suitcases into his own hands “and tell me everything about your vacation.”

“Oh that would be just wonderful. Maybe we could take our own vacation afterwards together?”

“Or now, either way is fine by me.”

…

Cartman came home around 12 Pm.
“Ah what a good meal that was. But I still don’t know what to do about that butthole Tweek. Hmmm…” As he walked up the stairs to his room he remembered his mom just came home from her vacation so he ran to her room and flung the door open. “Meem!”
Liane and Gayvid jumped when they saw Cartman.
“What- what are you doing with my meem?!” Cartman yelled.
Gayvid sat up in the bed. “I was teaching your mother how to tango.”

“Bullshit you’re probably naked under that blanket you stupid slut!”

“Eric!” Liane scolded in her gentle parenting way. “That is no way to speak to a friend!”

“A friend that just shagged my meem!” He argued before turning back to Gayvid. “If I end up having a faggoty little brother in the next nine months I’m gonna be so pissed off!” He looked back at Liane. “Okay meem, I’m gonna go watch Terrance and Phillip.” And he left.

“Ah, he will be fine. It’s me he is mad at.” Gayvid reassured Liane.

“Oh I know, thank you Gayvid. You know, I always thought you were a homosexual.”

“Honey I can swing either way.”
He put his arm around Liane and went to give her a kiss when Cartman cartwheeled back into the room with Gayvid’s bong.

“Alright Gavy get over here. You’re going to see Satan and you’re gonna sit there with him for- how old are you again?”

“27” Gayvid rolled his eyes. How many times was he going to be put in timeout by a child?
“That’s how long you are staying for, 27 minutes.” Cartman told him.
“Liane, would you please pass me my underwear?” He looked at Cartman after putting them on. “Could I PLEASE get the rest of my clothes at least?”

“NO!”

Gayvid slipped his heels on and went over to the bong.

“How do you get to Hell?” Liane asked him.

“Inside the bong there's a door that leads to the rest of the genie world. In my house, there is a door in my wall that leads to hell through a tunnel. That’s how I get to hell. Anyways, I will see you around Ms Cartman.”

“Would you please tell Mr. Hugh Hefner I said hello?” Liane smiled.

“Of course Ms Cartman!”

…

“I can’t STAND this place” Gayvid thought to himself. He was in Hell’s waiting room, his least favorite part of Hell. There was some kind of muffled yelling from the other side of the door. Gayvid took out a switchblade from his hair and began carving into the wooden chair he was sitting in. “I bet it’s that imbecile Sid Vicious beyond that door.” Gayvid muttered to himself. “God, I hope I don’t ever end up being his roommate in Hell.”
Usually it was in the evening but everyday Sid would come down here to chat it up with Satan. Satan just lets that bastard talk about whatever NONSENSE comes to his mind. In just a few minutes Sid came stumbling through the door.

“Hello faggotron.” Gayvid greeted Sid. “That’s from my mate Jiggy.”
“Tell Jiggy to fuck himself and to stop fucking nonces.”
“Will do. Hope you have a nice day.”
“Have a nice day yerself.” He grumbled. But then he stopped and spun back around doing a 180 on his heels.

“Last time you were here I caught you fucking my girlfriend.” He narrowed his eyes at Gayvid. “What’s the reason yer here now?” His speech slurred together and spit flew out from his mouth and hit Gayvid in the eyelashes.

“Girlfriend? You mean you and Nancy are STILL going strong?”

“Yeah, what’s the matter with that?!” Sid’s eyes narrowed at Gayvid. “Why wouldn’t we be together, she’s my babygirl!”

“Hey Sid, if you’re ever worried about a rough spot in the relationship just remember she was able to forgive you for literally murdering her in some dingy hotel room.”

Sid leaped across the waiting room, hands outstretched like the claws of a falcon, snarling and spit flying in every direction.
“THAT WAS AN ACCIDENT YOU FUCKING BASTARD!”

Gayvid grabbed Sid by the hands and clasped his fingers in between Sid’s greasy skinny fingers. Gayvid examined his face, blemished ridden as ever and pale like the google doc I am typing this on. But Gayvid gazed into Sid’s eyes boldly without showing a trace of anger or contempt. He grinned.

“And I am sure Nancy believes you. Me on the other hand, I don’t know what to believe. But I suppose it doesn’t matter, you both are dead and still madly in love like you always said you were. So if it’s her choice to be with a greased out, decrepit rodent then so be it.” He leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and then hurled him through the door out of the waiting room. He ran and shut the door before sitting back down in his chair, smoothing out his hair and smiling to himself. Maybe he would stop in to see Nancy a little later on…it was so nice to visit old friends.

It was quiet for a SPLIT SECOND before another atrocious being popped up, this time from behind the receptionist desk.

“Well, look what we have here!”

“MY LORD SAVE ME” Gayvid groaned before saying, “Good day Saddam…”
This is why Gayvid hated canadians. Well, except for Ike. Was Saddam even iraqi? His head flapped around like an obnoxious canadian but he wasn't even from Canada. Either Way every time that horrible cartoon Terrence and Phillip came on their heads reminded him of a much less sexually charged Saddam Hussein.
“Hey why don’t we sneak off and get into something dirty?”

“No thank you Saddam, I just got into something dirty on Earth. That’s why I’m here.”

“So you’re saying you need a reliable adult to teach you a lesson?” He somersaulted into the chair beside Gayvid and started to caress him. Gayvid smacked his hand away.

“Look Saddam, I’m just not into dictators okay? Or men that already have boyfriends, that can get pretty messy you know? So stop touching me.”

“Seems you have left your clothes back on Earth, as if you wanted to seduce me.”

“This is why I fucking hate this place everytime I can come into this waiting room some crazy shit happens. No means no, Saddam. Last time I tried having a conversation with you, you told me to imagine Satan naked on a unicycle juggling bananas.” Gayvid was fed up with Saddam touching him. Saddam reached over and tried to grope him so he shoved him off the chair and stormed out the door into Hell.

“Satan? Are you here? I’m back.” He closed the door behind him and began to walk over to the throne. He climbed up the side and sat down on the arm.

“Oh hello, Gayvid. How are you? I’m just looking over my torture methods. Do you think you could help me?”

“Sure, I’m okay, thanks for asking.”
“Well, I’m trying to find a new torture method for the dictators besides Saddam and Joseph Stalin here in Hell but I almost went through every method in the book.”

“Shove a grape up their peeholes.”

Satan looked at him for a moment.
“Gayvid, I’ve done far worse things to these dictators, I think a grape up their pee hole is the least of their worries.”

“Satan, that’s the point. They are so used to brutal torture methods, so I think for a while you should give them more tame methods of torture until you have gathered a list of new or improved torturing methods for these people. You get them used to the tame stuff, and then BAM! You hit them full throttle with something beyond cruel and unusual and unethical. “

“Hm, I like your way of thinking , Gayvid!” Satan smiled at him and took out a piece of paper. “Would you like to help me come up with some ideas?”

“Why sure! But I have a question, how come Joseph Stalin isn’t getting tortured?”

Satan went quiet. “Well, Stalin is actually up in Heaven.”

“WHAT!”

“Gayvid, I know he killed Nazis and that's a good thing but- that man terrifies me!”

“How does Hitler not terrify you? And- you’re scared of a dictator? Your boyfriend IS a dictator!”

“Okay well- Hitler is an entirely different story, he deserves to be here! Stalin is just plain scary, it’s not like he killed a billion jillion minorities!”

Gayvid sighed deeply. “Sure, but his army post world war two wasn’t the best either… What does God have to say about this?”

“God said he would take care of him. For all I know, he could be here but not here to bother me.”

Gayvid was pretty good friends with Satan, but sometimes he did NOT understand him one bit…

Chapter Text

After that whole stupid situation, Cartman walked out of his house into the yard. He muttered to himself.
“Damn fucking Gayvid…Why does HE have to sleep with my meem? There’s a billion trillion women in the world he could sleep with and he wanted to sleep with MY MEEM.” He looked out at the road with a pissed off look and at that moment he saw TWEEK WALKING BY.

“Hey!”

Tweek turned around and gasped. He started to run and to tweak out as he did. Cartman barreled down the driveway towards him yelling at him to come back.
“I KNOW YOU HAVE MY SNICKERS YOU STUPID FUCKIN ASSHOLE!!” Cartman screamed after him. Tweek didn’t say anything at all. In just a couple minutes Cartman ran out of breath and had to stop before he puked. He looked after Tweek, longingly pissed off, and watched him get away…but that didn’t mean he had to give up. Cartman breathed for a few moments and caught his breath in no time. But by the time he did, Tweek was already way ahead of him.
“There has to be a way to catch up to him where I don’t run out of breath.” Cartman stood up and looked around. Something caught his eye.
A bright green Volkswagen beetle across the street that had a “For Sale” sign on it. There was an asian man standing beside it and so he trotted up to him.

“Hola, Amigo. I am thinking of buying this car. May I take it for a test drive?” 

The asian man stared at him. “Uh, aren’t you a little young to be driving?” He asked in a fully american accent.

“Amigo, I drank a lot of coffee-o as a child, it has stunt-o my growth-o”

“...you know I’m not Mexican but yeah here, just make sure you bring it back.” He handed him the car keys and watched Cartman fling the car door open and slam it close behind him.

…

Tweek saw that Cartman wasn’t anywhere to be seen around him. Good, that was close. He was on his way to Donovan’s house and could have ran the whole way on account of he had an extra helping of crack rock pieces today. While walking down the road his mind began to wonder about what would happen after it was all over, what would happen when Cartman was overthrown and peace was restored back to the school. After this, him and Donovan would have to hang out for sure, maybe he could even introduce him to Craig but he didn’t really know if they would get along. Donovan and Tweek could still be best friends of course. He was hoping after Monday, him and Donovan could plan a sleepover to celebrate the victory. Ever since he met Donovan he hasn’t been tweaking out as much, besides when him and Craig were hanging out. Otherwise, he is always tweaking out. Who would want to be friends with a tweaker? He began to wonder if he would ever outgrow the tweaking or if there would be a cure for it. 

It was nice to be able to hang out with someone that he knew was an actual friend friend, and he didn’t have many of those so the ones he had he made sure to appreciate as best as he could.

Just then out of nowhere he began to get sad about everything he was thinking about
Some music began to play somewhere in the distance as he did so. People liked him of course, but like… he felt like the only people he could really call friends were Craig and Donovan which made him sad. Maybe one day he would actually talk to someone and realize that it wasn’t him that was the issue, but that his parents had him on crack coffee. Crack coffee is why Tweek tweaked out so much, which is why he thought he had very few friends.
Out of nowhere, someone yelled at him to get out of the road. Tweek turned around and screamed. He began to run.

But the bright green Volkswagen beetle was just too fast…it hit Tweek and hurled him forward.

“There goes myyyy heroooo…”

The snickers bar flew out of Tweek’s pocket and hit the car windshield.

“Watch him as he goes…”

Cartman laughed inside the car. “That’s what you get for stealing my Snickers you stupid butthole!” 

“AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!”

Tweek lay injured on the side of the road as the beetle car got away, barreling down the road it was. Donovan opened his door and ran towards him calling out his name. But…it was too late…Tweek was going unconscious and everything he heard was turning into a blur…Maybe it was Donovan who ordered someone to call the hospital. Cartman got away, his laughter was still ringing inside Tweek’s ears gently yet vividly. Was this is? Was this the end of the road for Tweek? But he was so young, so full of life and so many opportunities and a bright future was laid out for him at his feet…he never even got to have a sleepover with Donovan- he never even got to thank Donovan and tell him what a groovy guy he was. Tweek never got cured, he never got to go on 4chan and see how incelish all the men were on there, he never figured out where that music was coming from, and as he laid dying…somewhere off in the distance every so quietly he could hear it playing, pouring out across the universe at a medium pace but he couldn’t quite place his finger on where it was coming from…
And the plan, what would happen now? What would happen now if Tweek died? Would Donovan carry out the rest of the plans? Will Cartman get overthrown? Would there be a riot, a revolt, a time where it was the world against Cartman?
He heard Donovan speaking, or maybe it was his mother, he didn’t know for sure.
In his dying breaths, a speck of optimism was staying alive. Yes, there would be a time where all of that would happen…even if he wouldn’t be there to see it. 

Chapter Text

Donovan was PISSED. Not only was he not allowed to see Tweek, but Cartman had hit him with a car! Tweek would be out of school, but that didn’t mean Cartman was safe at all.
On Monday, he went up to one of the asian girls in the asian girl clique. Jenny, the best artist. He talked to her for a while. What he did was he paid her 50 dollars to draw five different drawings that he could use but the thing was, she couldn’t sign them until he had brought them back to her the next day. The next day after he gave the drawings to Jenny to sign, he thanked her and went off to find Veronica. It didn’t take long for Veronica to agree with Donovan’s plan, and she did what she asked him to do.

On his way home the same day, he stopped by Craig’s house and sold each piece to Craig’s dad, for 15 dollars each.
That night, he laid in his bed and thought about everything. He told Tweek what was going to happen next, but since he couldn’t visit him he left him a letter for him to read. He told Tweek to call him if he had any objections at all. He never got that call. Tweek was a pretty good kid really, a nice friend to have. Even if he did Tweak out a lot, it was okay. He couldn’t stand what Cartman did, he had just gone too far this time. When he went to bed that night, he dreamed he was in Willy Wonka And The Chocolate Factory and dreamed that Cartman fell into the chocolate river and everyone cheered and clapped and then everyone got a hot air balloon ride into outer space and saw Starvin Marvin and his friends. It was a cool fucking dream, it reminded him of what it was like to be high on weed when he would hit the bong on the weekends.