I'm a bad person for saying that I was gonna have some update all the time. xD; But uh, I joined this South Park roleplay and um...it's been a little bit of an obsession lately haha. Actually the roleplay spawned off the crack pairing KennyxGary(the Mormon haha) Its quite sad, actually. But I do promise to work on this. Even though work starts soon for me, I will make time for this fic. It's my baby, after all.

Chapter 18

Being sick fucking sucks, and the days of being sick feel longer than they should. The reality of missing school when you're sick isn't the same of your stupid fantasy. You think it's going to be awesome and cool, but then all you find is that when you're sick all the channels have the stupidest shows on, you can't leave the house, and time goes by so slow you cannot believe it.

And then you have to choke down your food, the same meal you've had previously.

And then after day two of being sick, the routine gets so old and you start to feel disgusting all over. Like, Kenny-poor disgusting.

And then when you get back to a social life all you can do is dream of being back to the world of being sick.

I've missed almost a week now. I've had a fever for almost three fucking days straight and it finally went down like three hours ago. Scott's super pissed because he has to stay home to take care of me. But at the same time he's kind of been a little nicer in his non-douche bag way.

At least he's not yelling at me all the fucking time.

Because I've been sick for like, a week or so, they send over some stupid kid to bring me all my missed work. Even though we're only in one class together they send over the stupid Jew Boy to bring me all my work.

I'm sick and gross looking when the Jew rings the door bell and the asshole answers the door.

"Hi Scott, is Cartman there? I'm supposed to bring him his homework," he says with a scowl on his face. It's clear he's only doing this because he has no option.

"He's in the living room Kyle, he's still sick so don't get to close." God I hate how Scott's acting all nice and sweet. While I admit that he's been nicer since I've been sick, he's still nowhere near awesome or nice. Scott leaves the two of us in the in the room alone, making it all awkward.

"Uh-hey, Fatass," the Jew greets, setting a bunch of papers on the table nearby. "How sick are you?"

"Fever for three days straight, puking up everything for two days, and some gay ass marathons on tv since I arrived home."

"That sucks," he replies awkwardly, looking around the house. He's taking in all the stupid things Scott has put on the wall."How is it living with him?" he asks, and he's just making small talk for who the hell knows why. He knows we don't do small talk; we bitch at each other, maybe fight a little, and then he leaves pissed off.

I have a feeling he might be nicer all because of that stupid Jew thing I went to, that, and everyone is a bit nicer to me because I'm a so-called orphan.

"Shitty. Don't be fooled, Kahl; he's not nice like he is at Temple. He's a dickwad, a ginger, and the world's biggest asshole. Not to mention he's a certified psycho."

"Oh. "

"Yeah."

"Well, um," he responds awkwardly, and I have no clue why. It's like he's trying to be nice to me. I bet his dumb mother said something like "Be nice to him Bubbie, he's an orphan." God, that bitch is annoying.

"You can go Kahl," I say, and he nods.

"Um Cartman? You know, you don't have to come to my bar mitzvah, you know. Even if Scott says you have to, or my mom does, you know you don't. We're not really friends, so you know, don't come if you don't want to. But uh, I wouldn't completely hate the idea if you did come, just so you know. Even if it is you of all people, it's nice to know another Jewish kid."

"I'm coming Kahl," I respond with a slight cough. "I've got no choice; Scott hears the words and he's making me go. And of course we're friends Kahl; if we weren't then why would I stick around with you losers for so long?"

"Because we're your only friends?" He snapped back.

"Kahl, please leave. Or I will puke on every last one of your goddamn daywalker clothes."

His eyes went wide and he left the room, not before being stopped by Scott.

"So, how's preparation going?"

"It's...it's fine," he says, a little bit relieved to be away from me. "Work. A lot of work. I've got lessons soon," he says and Scott nods his head like he's excited. "I'm hoping Eric will get excited about this."

"Don't," Kyle snorts, holding back laughter. "He hates the ideas of the Jewish culture. In fourth grade he tried to exterminate the Jews. When he was eight, he made a Hitler costume for Halloween. He owned like, ten tapes of stuff of the Holocaust when we were younger. He's a Nazi, and he's proud to admit it. No one can change Eric Cartman's viewpoint on the Jews, so don't even try."

"I can," Scott says, accepting this like it's some sort of Challenge. "And I will. You forget, he lives with me now, little boy. I own every piece of Eric Cartman. I spent years in the mental institution studying him, and all his fears and weaknesses. I dedicated a portion of my life to making my baby brother the best person he will be. By the time he graduates high school, he will not be like the spoiled brat you've known forever. And I'm doing the one thing his slut of a mother never did: I know how to discipline him. I can and do say no. I'm not falling into any of his little traps. Now, tell your mom I thank her for the cookies she sent, they were delicious."

Kyle left the house with a speechless look on his face. Before he left he turned to me and mouthed the words "Holy shit, Dude," as if to agree that I do live with a psychopath. Psht, I never needed anyone to tell me that. Scott's been a douche since the day I met him, and even before then, according to that video Mom made. Scott's a dick, and he won't ever change.

When the dumb Jew left, Scott came into the room. "Y'know, Eric, there's nothing wrong with being Jewish. I think you'll enjoy it after a while. Maybe once you see Kyle's party, you'll like what you see and want one of your own."

I snorted; like that'll ever happen.

He seemed determined to get me to convert to his stupid religion.

Psht, like that'll ever happen.

Reviews are magical. You guys get...Underpants Gnomes. Yep. That's your gift. All your underpants stolen. Oh, or you guys get Gary the Mormon. Your choice.